Alice played with the bath bubbles for a while longer, although she could no longer take the contemplative solitude or the suspense.
Before getting out of the tub, she made sure she'd wiped off any 'traces' from the inside of her thighs, both the painful red and the passionate white.
The contrasting mix of both defined quite accurately her emotions as well. She was still under the spell, the passionate aftereffects, of Jack having made love to her. The other side of them was a less idealistic one, caused by Jack's apparent guilt. But she would wait to see what he was like after she got out of the bath. Maybe he'd finally relaxed, and accepted that he hadn't done anything wrong.
While pacing, Jack heard the drain, and soon after, Alice appeared with a towel wrapped around her.
"I forgot my bag in the other bathroom," she said, noticing quickly how the sheets had been changed. Her face flared up again, imagining what the help must've thought.
"I'll fetch it for you," Jack said, beginning to walk away.
"Or I could sleep like this."
He stopped before he could even get past the doorframe.
"Are you insane?" He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, where smoke from the cigar was still dancing up in a misty trail. He'd obviously kept on smoking it while she was in the bath. After determining how late it was, he glanced back in her direction, but not at her. "It's November. You'll freeze to death."
It was almost like he thought a few hours between one day and another, a change between months, made a difference as to the weather. She pulled a face.
"Not if you hold me."
"Just put some clothes on," he expressed tiredly. "You know I'm going to hold you either way."
Alice crossed her arms.
"Are you?"
"What are you on about?"
"You seem to be avoiding laying eyes upon me all of a sudden." She wanted to shrug, but that would've probably made the towel fall and scare his remorseful gaze away even further. "Am I spoiled goods now, or what?"
"Christ, Alice! Do not say things like that."
"So, be honest with me, then. What's wrong? Don't tell me you're torturing yourself over a little blood." Alice walked over to him.
"I'm not torturing myself. I'm... Wondering if I could've hurt you less."
"Jack Fecking Kennedy, I will have you by your balls! Then you will know what pain really is!" She managed to shock him out of his self-loathing with those words.
Jack covered his lower area with his hands.
"Please, not my balls."
Neither one could contain their need to laugh and unburden the tense atmosphere.
"Don't worry, I too have need of those," Alice continued joking as she settled on the bed, feeling as though her legs were still too wobbly to be able to keep her standing.
Jack also sat on the edge of the bed, Alice held him from behind.
"You do realize you were as gentle as the swaying of a rocking chair, right?" Kissing his cheek, she comforted him with the soft melody of her newfound confident, unfiltered voice. "Next time, don't hold back. You won't have to. I want the full extent of the Kennedy vigor, and I'll be able to take it."
To her surprise, he changed his mood completely, looking the same as he had done a little earlier that night. Alice knew she had awoken the side of him that had been dormant since they'd started dating. He was repressed no more. It was a thrilling and exciting prospect.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/235207181-288-k332305.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
a chuisle mo chroí ♡ JFK ✔️
Historical Fiction"A Chuisle mo Chroí," he whispered in Irish. ~just a guilty pleasure story for those who wish to be immersed in the early 60s and feel closer to JFK The future is uncertain. There are disparate outcomes. You decide. •••• #1 in jfk #1 in kennedy #1 i...