Jack Beale 00 - Killer Run

He slowly brought his arms from around her back, and ever so slowly untied the sash holding her robe closed. Then, he slid his hands between the folds of the fabric and it fell open.
    Her eyes closed and he could hear her breathing becoming shallow as his hands gently cupped her breasts. Slowly, his hands traced a path to her face, his finger tips brushing against her slightly open lips. As he placed one hand on either side of her face, he lifted her face toward his and their lips met.
    At the same time that Jack’s hands moved up from her breasts to her face, Max’s hands moved in the opposite direction. Her hands gently released him from his flannel pajama pants and she felt him suck in his breath at her first touch.
    That first tender, gentle kiss lasted but a second before raw physical desire overwhelmed them. They devoured each other. Their kisses were at once both rough and gentle, and their hands touched and explored each other in that exquisite ballet of love as two became one. That choreography flowed from where they first stood to the couch and then back to their bed, and it lasted until they were completely spent. As they lay, unmoving, in each other’s arms, Jack exhaled, “Oh my God.”
    Max blushed and as she looked at him, her expression said the words she was too embarrassed to speak.

CHAPTER 57
    “HUNH.” MAX SAT UP SUDDENLY.
    Jack sat up also, pulled out of sleep by Max’s sudden start. He asked, “Max, you okay?”
    After their passionate start to the day, they had fallen back asleep in each other’s arms. The sun was now high enough in the sky that it streamed in through the skylight above their bed, and he welcomed its warmth.
    “Jack, I just remembered something,” she continued. She twisted and leaned toward him on one elbow.
    “What?” He lay back down and looked at her. After that adrenaline-charged awakening, his sleep-fogged brain was beginning to shut down again and his eyes wanted to close.
    “Jack, listen to me.”
    He could tell that she was not about to fall back asleep and was not about to let him do so either. It took conscious effort on his part to force his mind back awake and to focus on her. “What?”
    “Malcom never came by for the quilt.”
    Not understanding what she was talking about, he asked, “What? Who? What are you talking about?”
    “Yesterday, Malcom was supposed to come by and pick up the quilt.”
    “What quilt? Who’s Malcom?” Jack was still not comprehending.
    Max sat up straight and turned to face him. He rolled his head to the side, looking at her, but he was distracted by her nakedness. Her breasts had this slight jiggle as she talked and they captured his full attention. He knew she was still talking to him, but he was deaf to her words and he was beginning to feel that wonderful pressure in his groin.
    “Jack!” Max gave him a playful slap. “Eyes up here,” she said lifting his chin. “Jack, you’re not listening to me.”
    He tried not to grin, but he couldn’t help himself.
    Max caught that slight grin and her eyes wandered south for the tiniest fraction of a second. Then she understood. Flattered and tempted, but not to be deterred from what she had to say, she playfully slapped him again. “Jack, pay attention.”
    “Okay. I’m at attention … uh … listening,” he said with a grin. He forced his eyes to meet hers, just as she pulled the sheet up to cover herself.
    “Remember, as we left the B & B a few weeks ago, it had just started to rain and Polly had us wait while she ran back in for something. Then she came running out with a plastic bag. She said it was a gift. There wasn’t time to talk because that’s when the storm hit. She ran back while we drove off. In the bag was a quilt, but I didn’t look at it closely until we got home.”
    As she talked, her level of excitement increased along with the speed of what she was saying, and the sheet began to slip. Jack knew that she was beginning to get wound up, and when she paused for a breath he interrupted her. “Max, slow down. You’re losing me.”
    She pulled the sheet up again and continued. “So Polly had given me this old quilt to use as the filling for the one I’m going to make.”
    Jack nodded. It was coming back to him.
    “Remember, after we were home, Patti and I looked at it and I was sure that she had given me the wrong quilt.” He nodded again as he tried to remember the details of what she was telling him. “When she wrote her book, there