“You shouldn’t say things like that.” Sara said, his words too close to her own feelings, flustering her and making her - as usual - back away from the emotion.
Jon knew what she was thinking, what she was doing, but he also knew better than to push too hard. It was like holding a tiny bird in your hand - hold it too tightly and you’d crush it, hold it too loosely and it might fly away, but if you held it just right, it would stay with you forever. He gave a final tug to her collar then dropped his hands.
“So - what do you want to do tonight, then?” He asked.
“I don’t know. Do you fancy watching a movie or something? Or did you want to go out?”
“Movie sounds good. Do you have popcorn?”
“Y’know, I think I do. I’ve usually got some of that microwave stuff around.”
Sara moved toward the door, then a thought occurred as she looked at Jon, wearing only a towel.
“If you want it, I think I’ve got another terry bathrobe in the cupboard.” She offered, and he nodded.
“So long as it’s not pink!”
She went to the cupboard, finding a white robe folded beside the clean towels, and she threw it over to Jon as she headed out to the kitchen. Sara found the popcorn and was just putting the bag in the microwave when Jon came through.
“What d’you want to watch?” He asked. “I picked last time.”
“Not sure. How about………hmmm, maybe not. I was going to say A Time to Kill, but that feels a little weird, after meeting Matthew the other night. Or, do you mind watching it?”
“I don’t mind at all - Matt’s a great actor, and it’s a good movie. Go find it and I’ll watch the popcorn doesn’t burn - I assume you want diet coke, too?”
“Please, sweetie.”
Sara kissed him softly before she left, for no particular reason other than obeying a sudden impulse, leaving Jon smiling as he opened the fridge to get some drinks. She quickly slipped through to the bathroom, unwrapping the towel from her hair and dropping it into the bath, then going to the living room to search for the movie. With perfect timing, just as Sara located the DVD she was looking for and put it into the machine, Jon came through carrying a tray with the bowl of popcorn and two glasses of coke.
“A cook and a waiter?” Sara giggled at him, and Jon stuck out his tongue.
Just the gesture made Sara flush - she knew exactly what that pointed tongue could do to her - and Jon laughed now as he saw the blood rush to her cheeks. He laid the tray down on the table, taking the bowl onto his lap as he sat down. Sara switched the TV on and came to sit beside him, Jon putting his arm around her shoulders as she tucked her legs up on the couch, taking a piece of popcorn before hitting ‘play’ on the remote.
They both managed to stay awake this time, right through the movie, then during the courtroom scenes near to the end Jon became aware that Sara was sniffling. He looked down at her, seeing tears on her face as she watched Matt’s heartfelt performance of the final summation. Jon tightened his arm on her shoulders, pulling her into him comfortingly as they watched the last few minutes of the movie. As the credits started to roll, Sara brought up a hand and wiped away the tears, smiling up at Jon.
“Sorry - that scene always gets me - he seems so sincere and……..oh, I don’t know - it just makes me cry sometimes. Not usually in front of somebody else, though!”
“Well, knowing how you like to keep your emotions buttoned up tight.” As he said it, Jon ruffled his hand across the top of her head, hoping she wouldn’t be offended, and she didn’t interrupt as he continued. “I guess it gives me something to aspire to with my own acting - to be able to make it that effective and believable. Matt’s a great actor, though - I think he’s underrated a lot of the time.”
Sara turned to look up at him in disbelief.
“Good God.” She said softly. “I never expected to hear you talk like that. You know what? You sound like me - I’ve never heard you put yourself down before. You’re usually so confident.”
“I’ve been told that I’ll only ever make a good actor if I quit my day job, quit singing and touring, but I can’t do that.”
“Sounds like a load of crap to me.” Sara told him, snuggling against him again so he couldn’t see her face. “Trust me, baby, I watched The Leading Man after Dana more or less ordered me to, and you were certainly believable in that. Have to say - even though I wasn’t really a fan of yours - I did hate Thandie Newton!”
“And are you a fan of mine now?”
“Mm-hm…….but I still hate Thandie - she got you first!”
Jon chuckled, loving that Sara believed in him so much. Dot had always been a little cool about his desire to make movies.
“Baby, she never got me - she got the character, not me. But thanks for watching the movie - it kinda bombed, except for fans - I don’t really think anybody else was into it.”
“Their loss.” Sara sat up and stretched, looking at the clock. “Half past eleven, and I’m exhausted. You tire me out, baby.”
“Likewise. Want to go to bed?”
“I think so. Otherwise we’ll only fall asleep here again, and my neck’s still stiff from last night.”
They got off the couch and Sara took the empty bowl and glasses through to the kitchen, washing them out then cleaning the coffee pot, automatically getting it ready for the next morning. She was just pouring the water in when Jon came through to the kitchen.
“I thought you were coming to bed?”
“I am. I just like to leave the coffee ready to turn on in the morning - saves time and means I don’t have to wait so long for my first cup of coffee.”
“Forward planning. I like it. Now,” he took hold of her fingers, pulling her toward him, “come to bed.”
He led her along the hallway to the bedroom, Sara following meekly, but when they got to the bed they saw chocolate smears on the sheet.
“Whoops. God, I can’t be bothered to change sheets tonight. We could use the spare bedroom, but that bed isn’t made up either. Aw, dammit. Oh, I know!”
Sara smoothed the cover back over the bed, covering the chocolatey sheet, then went to the closet and found some blankets, laying them on the bed with Jon’s help. Their bathrobes got dumped on a chair, and Jon slid under the blankets as Sara went over to her dresser, picking up her brush.
“Babe - you’re going to bed - why are you brushing your hair?”
“Because it’s wet, and it’s a mess.”
“Why don’t you dry it. You’ll catch cold, going to bed with wet hair.”
She giggled. “God, you sound like my mom. She always used to tell me that. I’ve been going to bed with wet hair for years, and it hasn’t killed me yet.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Jon told her, wagging a finger at her comically.
Sara finished brushing her hair and came across to the bed, Jon holding the blankets up for her to slide in beside him.
“This is getting to be a habit.” Sara murmured as Jon gathered her into his arms.
“A bad habit?”
“No, but I think it could be addictive.” She nuzzled her nose against his throat, knowing he was smiling even though she couldn’t see.
“Good. Hey - nearly forgot! Where’s my goodnight kiss?”
Pulling back far enough to see him, Sara gently kissed his cheek.
“How’s that?”
“Not quite what I had in mind, baby girl.”
Jon softly kissed her lower lip, his tongue sliding out to lick against her, then pushing her mouth open, her tongue snaking into his mouth. Sara sighed contentedly as they drew apart again, a soft smile on her lips.
“Good night, baby.” She whispered, tucking her head against Jon’s neck again.
“Good night, Sara.”
A few minutes later, Jon remembered he hadn’t mentioned the trip to Florida.
“Sara?”
No response, and he realised that she was already asleep. Well, he could tell her in the morning. He moved slightly, letting Sara’s head rest more comfortably against him, and he was running through set lists for Florida in his mind when he fell asleep.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Chapter 62
Slowly, Jon released his grasp on the bed, and on Sara’s hands, and she winced as she let go, her hands aching from the pressure of Jon’s grip.
Sara looked up at him, her eyes soft in the afterglow of loving as she spoke.
“I don’t know how, but every time we…..make love…..seems better than the last.”
Jon withdrew himself from Sara, resting on his elbows above her as he replied.
“Well, they do say practice makes perfect!”
“So they do.”
Dropping onto his side on the mattress, Jon laid one arm across Sara’s body, his head on her shoulder, and she brought one hand into his hair, stroking soothingly as she relaxed. She decided to go take a shower, to wash away the stickiness left by the chocolate, and also the wetness she could feel between her thighs.
“Baby?” She nudged her shoulder against Jon’s head.
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to take a shower. I’m all sticky.”
Jon’s hand slid down her body, coming to rest between her legs.
“So you are.” She could feel him grinning against her skin.
“I meant from the chocolate.” She giggled, sighing as his fingers slipped across her clit, still almost painfully sensitive, then she felt him run his middle finger deep inside her, teasing.
Already, Jon wanted her again, but - well, hell, he was forty four, and he wasn’t up to another round just yet. On the other hand, he thought with a grin, maybe he could wreck Sara as totally as she wrecked him. With that in mind, Jon raised up to kiss her, still tasting chocolate in her mouth, as his hand moved, another finger slipping inside as he brought his thumb across her clit. He felt her beginning to tense against him already, and moved his thumb away, just stroking his fingers against the walls deep inside her. Her tongue in his mouth, Sara licked against the roof of his mouth, feeling abandoned when Jon lifted his lips from hers.
With a smile, Jon kissed her forehead, then slid down the bed, taking his hand away from her pussy and replacing fingers with tongue, pushing the tip of his tongue as deep as he could. He could taste her juices and, mixed with her familiar taste, there was a muskiness that he knew was his own cum inside her. She was so close to orgasm already, still not fully recovered from the last time, and he locked his lips around her clit, sucking strongly and feeling her hand reflexively clutch at his hair, directing his mouth to a slightly different position, then her body arched as she came again with a shuddering moan. Jon let the first waves pass, then his mouth drove her higher again, feeling the trembling of her body as he kept her cumming as long as he could, until she couldn’t take any more, collapsing weakly back onto the mattress.
Finally satisfied, Jon kissed her heaving tummy as he moved back up the bed to lie beside her, and Sara turned unfocused eyes on his face, seeing him grinning at her, wetness sparkling on his lips.
“Holy Hanna……” she breathed, blinking until she could see him clearly, then lifting a shaky hand to wipe his mouth. “You’re a bad boy, Jon……..but you’re very, very good at being bad!”
Jon smirked at her. “I just thought, if you’re going to shower anyway, I may as well make sure you really needed to.”
“Well, you succeeded. I just don’t know if I can walk now.” She was only half joking, and Jon smiled as he slid off the bed.
He bent and picked her up bodily, lifting her from the bed.
“Jon! What are you doing?”
“Taking you to the shower. I don’t want to risk you falling over - you manage to get enough bruises, walking into tables - I don’t want people thinking I’m beating you! Last thing you need is your picture in the paper again, this time with a black eye.”
Sara smiled at him. “Yeah, and so much for hoping nobody would recognise me. Paul nailed me the minute he walked in the door this morning.”
Good as his word, Jon carried her through to the bathroom, and he kept her in his arms as he opened the shower door, carrying her into the stall. Sara took one hand down from where she’d hooked them around his neck and turned on the water, both of them under the spray, then Jon carefully lowered her to her feet in front of him. Her legs still felt a little weak, but almost back to normal as Sara turned around, picking up a sponge and squeezing on shower gel. When she turned back to Jon, he caught her wrist before she touched him with the foamy sponge.
“No sparkles.” She promised, showing him that the gel was a different one, a blue one, so he released her.
Sara rubbed the sponge across his broad chest and shoulders, and Jon caught a faintly minty smell from the foam, feeling his skin tingling pleasantly. He stood quiescent as Sara washed him, just watching her move, then she pulled him further under the shower to rinse him off.
Jon shook the water out of his eyes and took the sponge from Sara, adding more shower gel and massaging the sponge across her skin. Gently, he turned her around, holding her sodden hair out of the way to wash her shoulders and back, and Sara heard him swear softly.
“Sara? What happened to your back, babe?”
“What d’you mean?”
“Baby, you’ve got bruises the whole way down your spine. Looks really sore.” He gently touched one of the round bruises.
“Oh, that? I’d forgotten.” She swivelled her head, looking at him with an impish smile. “That new apartment of yours has some kinda hard floors - you need a rug or something.”
“Dammit - you mean I did that, too. Jesus - first the bite, now this. I keep hurting you, Sara. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, Jon.”
He shook his head remorsefully as he continued running the sponge gently down over her buttocks, crouching as he brought the sponge down her legs.
“Turn around.” He murmured, still crouching at her feet, and Sara swivelled to face him again.
Gently, Jon sponged her legs, pushing her feet apart with one knee so he could run the sponge between her thighs, tenderly cleaning her most intimate skin, then he rose to his feet again to wash her body, squeezing the sponge so that lacy trails of foam slid down her skin. Sara looked at him silently, her hair cloaking her body like wet silk as she let the water run down over her head, and Jon was struck - not for the first time - by her almost childlike innocence, even though it was so at odds with the wildcat she could be at times.
He bent his head to kiss her lips, watching her spiky-wet eyelashes close slowly as he approached, her pink tongue darting out to lick away the water just before his mouth touched hers. Jon dropped the sponge, laying his hands on her hips, above the prominent hip bones, and Sara put her own palms on his sides, resting them comfortably against the sides of the ‘v’ of muscle as they kissed. Their tongues stroked softly against each other, deep and tender as they stood together under the shower, both oblivious to the water cascading over their heads and down their bodies.
Drawing away after a long, satisfying kiss, Jon tenderly kissed the tip of Sara’s nose then wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close to him under the rushing water. She made a soft and somehow contented sound in her throat as she brought her hands together behind his back, lacing her fingers and letting her hands hang low onto his butt.
The water - and the embrace - soothed their bodies and minds, and the stall filled with thick steam as they clung together. With the way her head lay on Jon’s chest, Sara could see the steam beading on the soft hair, frosting his chest with silver. She blew gently on the hair, trying to dislodge the droplets, and her breath fanned across his nipple, the skin immediately tightening and puckering as his nipple hardened. The phenomenon enchanted her, and she blew on him again, then moved her head a little to take the hard tip gently between her lips.
Jon sighed deeply as her lips touched him, rousing him from the semi-trance induced by the heat and steam. Sara moved, too, tilting her head back to look up at him.
“I need to wash my hair.” She said, bringing her hands around from his back, and Jon released her.
“Guess I may as well wash mine, too. Got any shampoo that isn’t pink?”
Sara giggled. “You could use the shower gel - it’s for hair, too.”
She handed him the bottle, and Jon looked at it, shrugged, then opened the bottle.
“It’s all the same stuff anyway.” He muttered, squeezing some onto his palm, then offering the bottle to Sara.
“No, thanks, I’ll use my usual shampoo.” She wrinkled her nose prettily. “It smells of chocolate.”
Jon shook his head with a grin as he lathered the blue gel into his hair, and Sara washed her own hair, using her chocolate-scented shampoo then the matching conditioner. When they were finally finished - that had to be the longest shower on record - Jon turned off the water as Sara opened the stall door, releasing a cloud of steam, with a cool breeze entering the stall in it’s place, making Sara shiver slightly as she reached out and grabbed two towels.
She handed a towel to Jon, who gave his hair a cursory rub, then wrapped the towel around his waist. Sara used her towel to wipe the worst of the water off her body, then flipped her hair forward, bending to wrap the towel around her head. With the towel on her hair, turban-style, she crossed to the door and unhooked her fluffy bathrobe, sliding her arms through the sleeves and wrapping herself snugly. As she turned around, belting the robe tight, she saw Jon leaning against the shower stall, watching her.
“What?”
He smiled lazily, pushing himself off the glass and walking over, taking hold of the robe’s collar and fluffing it up around her neck.
“Nothing.” He said softly. “Nothing at all. I just love watching the way you move, the way you walk.”
“You mean when I manage to put one foot in front of the other, without walking into something? The way I walk.” She snorted quietly. “You’re crazy, Jon.”
“Crazy about you.” He murmured, his blue eyes tender as he looked at her, still fussing with the collar of her robe.
Sara looked up at him, her eyes soft in the afterglow of loving as she spoke.
“I don’t know how, but every time we…..make love…..seems better than the last.”
Jon withdrew himself from Sara, resting on his elbows above her as he replied.
“Well, they do say practice makes perfect!”
“So they do.”
Dropping onto his side on the mattress, Jon laid one arm across Sara’s body, his head on her shoulder, and she brought one hand into his hair, stroking soothingly as she relaxed. She decided to go take a shower, to wash away the stickiness left by the chocolate, and also the wetness she could feel between her thighs.
“Baby?” She nudged her shoulder against Jon’s head.
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to take a shower. I’m all sticky.”
Jon’s hand slid down her body, coming to rest between her legs.
“So you are.” She could feel him grinning against her skin.
“I meant from the chocolate.” She giggled, sighing as his fingers slipped across her clit, still almost painfully sensitive, then she felt him run his middle finger deep inside her, teasing.
Already, Jon wanted her again, but - well, hell, he was forty four, and he wasn’t up to another round just yet. On the other hand, he thought with a grin, maybe he could wreck Sara as totally as she wrecked him. With that in mind, Jon raised up to kiss her, still tasting chocolate in her mouth, as his hand moved, another finger slipping inside as he brought his thumb across her clit. He felt her beginning to tense against him already, and moved his thumb away, just stroking his fingers against the walls deep inside her. Her tongue in his mouth, Sara licked against the roof of his mouth, feeling abandoned when Jon lifted his lips from hers.
With a smile, Jon kissed her forehead, then slid down the bed, taking his hand away from her pussy and replacing fingers with tongue, pushing the tip of his tongue as deep as he could. He could taste her juices and, mixed with her familiar taste, there was a muskiness that he knew was his own cum inside her. She was so close to orgasm already, still not fully recovered from the last time, and he locked his lips around her clit, sucking strongly and feeling her hand reflexively clutch at his hair, directing his mouth to a slightly different position, then her body arched as she came again with a shuddering moan. Jon let the first waves pass, then his mouth drove her higher again, feeling the trembling of her body as he kept her cumming as long as he could, until she couldn’t take any more, collapsing weakly back onto the mattress.
Finally satisfied, Jon kissed her heaving tummy as he moved back up the bed to lie beside her, and Sara turned unfocused eyes on his face, seeing him grinning at her, wetness sparkling on his lips.
“Holy Hanna……” she breathed, blinking until she could see him clearly, then lifting a shaky hand to wipe his mouth. “You’re a bad boy, Jon……..but you’re very, very good at being bad!”
Jon smirked at her. “I just thought, if you’re going to shower anyway, I may as well make sure you really needed to.”
“Well, you succeeded. I just don’t know if I can walk now.” She was only half joking, and Jon smiled as he slid off the bed.
He bent and picked her up bodily, lifting her from the bed.
“Jon! What are you doing?”
“Taking you to the shower. I don’t want to risk you falling over - you manage to get enough bruises, walking into tables - I don’t want people thinking I’m beating you! Last thing you need is your picture in the paper again, this time with a black eye.”
Sara smiled at him. “Yeah, and so much for hoping nobody would recognise me. Paul nailed me the minute he walked in the door this morning.”
Good as his word, Jon carried her through to the bathroom, and he kept her in his arms as he opened the shower door, carrying her into the stall. Sara took one hand down from where she’d hooked them around his neck and turned on the water, both of them under the spray, then Jon carefully lowered her to her feet in front of him. Her legs still felt a little weak, but almost back to normal as Sara turned around, picking up a sponge and squeezing on shower gel. When she turned back to Jon, he caught her wrist before she touched him with the foamy sponge.
“No sparkles.” She promised, showing him that the gel was a different one, a blue one, so he released her.
Sara rubbed the sponge across his broad chest and shoulders, and Jon caught a faintly minty smell from the foam, feeling his skin tingling pleasantly. He stood quiescent as Sara washed him, just watching her move, then she pulled him further under the shower to rinse him off.
Jon shook the water out of his eyes and took the sponge from Sara, adding more shower gel and massaging the sponge across her skin. Gently, he turned her around, holding her sodden hair out of the way to wash her shoulders and back, and Sara heard him swear softly.
“Sara? What happened to your back, babe?”
“What d’you mean?”
“Baby, you’ve got bruises the whole way down your spine. Looks really sore.” He gently touched one of the round bruises.
“Oh, that? I’d forgotten.” She swivelled her head, looking at him with an impish smile. “That new apartment of yours has some kinda hard floors - you need a rug or something.”
“Dammit - you mean I did that, too. Jesus - first the bite, now this. I keep hurting you, Sara. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, Jon.”
He shook his head remorsefully as he continued running the sponge gently down over her buttocks, crouching as he brought the sponge down her legs.
“Turn around.” He murmured, still crouching at her feet, and Sara swivelled to face him again.
Gently, Jon sponged her legs, pushing her feet apart with one knee so he could run the sponge between her thighs, tenderly cleaning her most intimate skin, then he rose to his feet again to wash her body, squeezing the sponge so that lacy trails of foam slid down her skin. Sara looked at him silently, her hair cloaking her body like wet silk as she let the water run down over her head, and Jon was struck - not for the first time - by her almost childlike innocence, even though it was so at odds with the wildcat she could be at times.
He bent his head to kiss her lips, watching her spiky-wet eyelashes close slowly as he approached, her pink tongue darting out to lick away the water just before his mouth touched hers. Jon dropped the sponge, laying his hands on her hips, above the prominent hip bones, and Sara put her own palms on his sides, resting them comfortably against the sides of the ‘v’ of muscle as they kissed. Their tongues stroked softly against each other, deep and tender as they stood together under the shower, both oblivious to the water cascading over their heads and down their bodies.
Drawing away after a long, satisfying kiss, Jon tenderly kissed the tip of Sara’s nose then wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close to him under the rushing water. She made a soft and somehow contented sound in her throat as she brought her hands together behind his back, lacing her fingers and letting her hands hang low onto his butt.
The water - and the embrace - soothed their bodies and minds, and the stall filled with thick steam as they clung together. With the way her head lay on Jon’s chest, Sara could see the steam beading on the soft hair, frosting his chest with silver. She blew gently on the hair, trying to dislodge the droplets, and her breath fanned across his nipple, the skin immediately tightening and puckering as his nipple hardened. The phenomenon enchanted her, and she blew on him again, then moved her head a little to take the hard tip gently between her lips.
Jon sighed deeply as her lips touched him, rousing him from the semi-trance induced by the heat and steam. Sara moved, too, tilting her head back to look up at him.
“I need to wash my hair.” She said, bringing her hands around from his back, and Jon released her.
“Guess I may as well wash mine, too. Got any shampoo that isn’t pink?”
Sara giggled. “You could use the shower gel - it’s for hair, too.”
She handed him the bottle, and Jon looked at it, shrugged, then opened the bottle.
“It’s all the same stuff anyway.” He muttered, squeezing some onto his palm, then offering the bottle to Sara.
“No, thanks, I’ll use my usual shampoo.” She wrinkled her nose prettily. “It smells of chocolate.”
Jon shook his head with a grin as he lathered the blue gel into his hair, and Sara washed her own hair, using her chocolate-scented shampoo then the matching conditioner. When they were finally finished - that had to be the longest shower on record - Jon turned off the water as Sara opened the stall door, releasing a cloud of steam, with a cool breeze entering the stall in it’s place, making Sara shiver slightly as she reached out and grabbed two towels.
She handed a towel to Jon, who gave his hair a cursory rub, then wrapped the towel around his waist. Sara used her towel to wipe the worst of the water off her body, then flipped her hair forward, bending to wrap the towel around her head. With the towel on her hair, turban-style, she crossed to the door and unhooked her fluffy bathrobe, sliding her arms through the sleeves and wrapping herself snugly. As she turned around, belting the robe tight, she saw Jon leaning against the shower stall, watching her.
“What?”
He smiled lazily, pushing himself off the glass and walking over, taking hold of the robe’s collar and fluffing it up around her neck.
“Nothing.” He said softly. “Nothing at all. I just love watching the way you move, the way you walk.”
“You mean when I manage to put one foot in front of the other, without walking into something? The way I walk.” She snorted quietly. “You’re crazy, Jon.”
“Crazy about you.” He murmured, his blue eyes tender as he looked at her, still fussing with the collar of her robe.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Chapter 61
“Oh, no.” Sara told him sternly. “You need to clean up this mess before anything else!”
Jon looked around at the work surfaces and all the scattered debris.
“It’s not that bad.” He protested.
“I think you’ve used just about every dish I own!” Sara disagreed, standing up with her plate and stacking it on Jon’s to carry them to the sink.
Standing up, Jon hung his head. “You may be right. I do seem to have used an awful lot of stuff.”
Sara giggled, handing him a towel. “I’ll wash - you dry.”
They washed up the dishes, until finally the kitchen looked tidy again. Sara opened the cake box and slid the remaining piece onto a plate, cutting it in half, then wiping the chocolate off the knife with a finger, and licking it away.
Thoughtfully, Jon looked at the cake, then at Sara, a smile quirking his lips as he picked up the plate.
“Let’s take this through to the couch.” He suggested, and Sara grabbed a couple of forks and followed him.
Sitting close together on the couch, Jon cut a forkful and held it up for Sara, who ate it as she cut a piece for Jon. While she held the fork up for him, Jon ran his fork across the top of the torte, scooping up some of the chocolate filling. He ate his piece, then nonchalantly wiped the fork across her thigh, smearing her with chocolate.
“Oops.” He said softly and unrepentantly as Sara looked down, then he grinned at her. “Let me get that for you, Sara.”
He slipped off the couch, onto his knees beside her, and slowly licked the chocolate from her skin, eyes watching her face the whole time. Sara drew her lower lip into her mouth for a second, and Jon spoke gently.
“Maybe we should take this into the bedroom?”
Sara just nodded, smiling, and Jon rose to his feet, pulling her up with him. She carried the plate through the hallway as Jon walked close behind her, nuzzling against her neck as they made the short trip from the living room. As they entered the bedroom, Jon reached around to take the plate from her hands, whispering in her ear as he did so.
“Take off your clothes.”
“Jo-on…..”
“Please?”
She turned to face him, standing in the middle of the bedroom, and slowly pulled her t shirt over her head, shaking out her hair so it covered her. Unbuttoning her khaki shorts, she let them fall around her feet, standing in just her underwear as she peeked at Jon through the curtain of hair. He could see the mischief in her eyes as she looked at him, and he grinned crookedly, waving the fork.
“Come on, baby…….don’t be shy…….”
Smiling, Sara twisted her arms behind her, in that motion that was impossible for any man to replicate, and she unhooked her bra, pulling it over her shoulders, but holding it across her breasts while she shook her hair forward again. When the bra fell to the floor, her hair kept her completely covered, and she stepped out of her shorts, walking toward Jon.
“What about the rest?” Jon asked, and Sara pouted.
“Chocolate.” She demanded, stopping in front of him, her lower lip sticking out so all he wanted to do was suck on it.
He cut a piece of torte and held it for her, and she took it in her mouth, sliding it slowly off the fork.
“Yum.” She whispered, then stepped back and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, tugging them down just a little so a curl of hair appeared over the top.
She stopped, considering.
“You’re still wearing an awful lot of clothes.” She told Jon, and he grinned at her.
“You finish first.” He told her, and she decided just to do as she was told - for once - pushing the thong down toward her knees, where gravity took over and the fabric fell softly to the floor.
She took the single step required to bring her right up to Jon again, everything above her waist still concealed behind her hair as she tucked her fingers into his waistband. Jon smiled again as Sara unbuttoned his jeans, while he dug the fork into the chocolate, cutting away another bite-sized piece which he offered to her. As Sara ate the piece of torte, Jon turned, manoeuvring her toward the bed until her legs bumped against the mattress.
Wordlessly, Sara got onto the bed, kneeling there and taking the plate and fork from Jon’s hands. While she settled herself back on the bed, holding the plate, Jon slid his jeans to the floor and hooked each boot off with the toe of the other, then stripped away his t shirt until he was as naked as she. He knelt on the bottom of the bed, looking up at her, then grabbed her knees and dragged her down so she lay flat in front of him, her legs between his, and his knees gripping her hips.
“I’ll take that.” He told her, removing the plate from her fingers and tossing the fork to the floor.
Jon held the plate to one side as he leaned forward to kiss her, tasting the chocolate in her mouth, and Sara felt his hardness brush against the base of her belly. Straightening up, he dug his fingers into the chocolate filling, scooping some out and holding it in his fingers. Her hair was still in the way, so he laid the plate down on her belly, laughing when she jumped at the chill of the porcelain, and he flicked her hair back, one side then the other, so it lay spread on the pillows above her head.
“That’s better.” Jon muttered, picking up the plate and moving it onto the mattress so he could lean forward over her.
Keeping his eyes on Sara’s body, not meeting her gaze, Jon slowly brought his hand across her breast, smearing chocolate onto her skin, coating her nipple. Now he looked up, smirking at her, then looking down again as he took more chocolate and spread it on her other breast. His fingers were coated in chocolate, too, and Sara reached to catch his wrist, bringing his hand to her mouth and licking his fingers clean.
Jon leaned down over her, licking at the chocolate coating her skin, his tongue rasping over her like a cat’s, rough yet almost unbearably tender, and Sara writhed on the bed even though she tried to lie still. As Jon finished cleaning the chocolate from her breasts, he scraped more chocolate from the plate, wiping it down the centre of her body, down to her navel, then offering her his hand again, letting her tongue cleanse his skin. He started at her navel this time, pressing his tongue hard against her and dragging gradually up her body.
Sara could feel her skin tingling under his tongue, the licking sensation driving her slowly crazy as Jon reached out and gathered up another handful of chocolate, rubbing it across her breasts again, licking it off as she sucked chocolate from his fingers. When the chocolate was gone from her skin, she saw Jon reach out to the plate again.
“Enough…..” she moaned pitifully, but he shook his head, scooping the last of the chocolate onto his fingertips.
“Not yet.” His voice rasped in his throat as he sat back on his heels, keeping his weight just off her legs as he looked at the chocolate on his hand.
“Now, where could I put this?” He asked rhetorically, as Sara squirmed under him, pinned by his knees on either side of her hips as he studied her body.
He grinned as he made his decision, reaching down to wipe his hand across her stomach, filling her navel with the rich, sweet chocolate, then carefully writing his initials just above the line of curls. Putting his hand to her mouth, Jon spread a thin layer of chocolate across her lips, then kissed it off before holding his hand so she could lick away the rest. Sara sucked his fingers into her mouth, then Jon pulled his hand back again as he dropped down her body, his mouth following the faint lingering chocolate scent down to her navel.
His tongue cleaned the chocolate away from around her belly, then he looked up at Sara, mouth poised above her.
“Do you want more chocolate?” He asked, and she smiled.
“Always.”
Jon kissed her belly again, then his tongue thrust into her navel, the unexpected move making Sara gasp in surprise, and he scooped out chocolate on his tongue, rising above her again to plunge his tongue into her mouth, sharing the sweetness in a chocolate-flavoured kiss. When he finally pulled away, Jon returned his tongue to her navel, licking out the remaining chocolate until Sara was begging him to stop, the teasing of his mouth maddening.
Finally, barely able to control himself, Jon slid his mouth up to Sara’s ear.
“What do you want, baby?” He asked softly, then lifted his head to look down at her.
“You.” Her eyes flashed at him, testing his control, but he held on.
“What do you want me to do, Sara?” He dropped his mouth to her ear again. “Do you want me to make love to you?” Jon moved to her other ear, his voice growling. “Or do you want me to fuck you?”
He felt the sharp intake of breath at the second choice, and knew which one she wanted, but he wanted - needed - to hear her say it, and he gazed down into her eyes.
“Which is it, Sara?”
“Fuck me.” She whispered, and he shook his head.
“I can’t hear you, baby.”
Sara reached up both hands and grabbed his hair, pulling his ear to her mouth, knowing why he was teasing her, that he wanted to hear her saying the word.
“I said ‘fuck me’, Jon.”
Jon chuckled and shifted his weight, moving down the bed and positioning himself between Sara’s legs. As he pushed her thighs apart, he could see the coating of slick juices, the result of the teasing, and he carefully pressed forward until just the head of his cock slid inside her, then he stopped, grinning at her, prolonging her agony.
“Which did you say again?”
“Fuck me!” She almost yelled at him, and he gave another short laugh.
“Oh, yeah, that’s right.”
As he finished the sentence, Jon rammed forward, pushing all the way inside her, and Sara gave a guttural moan as he filled her so completely. She reached both hands above her head, grabbing onto the bedframe as Jon drove hard into her again, then his hands came up to cover hers, pinning them to the bar, and they both hung onto the metal bar for dear life as Jon kept up the furious rhythm. Sara’s hips rose against him with every thrust, Jon cumming first with Sara following hard on his heels as he continued to plunge against her until they were both exhausted.
Jon looked around at the work surfaces and all the scattered debris.
“It’s not that bad.” He protested.
“I think you’ve used just about every dish I own!” Sara disagreed, standing up with her plate and stacking it on Jon’s to carry them to the sink.
Standing up, Jon hung his head. “You may be right. I do seem to have used an awful lot of stuff.”
Sara giggled, handing him a towel. “I’ll wash - you dry.”
They washed up the dishes, until finally the kitchen looked tidy again. Sara opened the cake box and slid the remaining piece onto a plate, cutting it in half, then wiping the chocolate off the knife with a finger, and licking it away.
Thoughtfully, Jon looked at the cake, then at Sara, a smile quirking his lips as he picked up the plate.
“Let’s take this through to the couch.” He suggested, and Sara grabbed a couple of forks and followed him.
Sitting close together on the couch, Jon cut a forkful and held it up for Sara, who ate it as she cut a piece for Jon. While she held the fork up for him, Jon ran his fork across the top of the torte, scooping up some of the chocolate filling. He ate his piece, then nonchalantly wiped the fork across her thigh, smearing her with chocolate.
“Oops.” He said softly and unrepentantly as Sara looked down, then he grinned at her. “Let me get that for you, Sara.”
He slipped off the couch, onto his knees beside her, and slowly licked the chocolate from her skin, eyes watching her face the whole time. Sara drew her lower lip into her mouth for a second, and Jon spoke gently.
“Maybe we should take this into the bedroom?”
Sara just nodded, smiling, and Jon rose to his feet, pulling her up with him. She carried the plate through the hallway as Jon walked close behind her, nuzzling against her neck as they made the short trip from the living room. As they entered the bedroom, Jon reached around to take the plate from her hands, whispering in her ear as he did so.
“Take off your clothes.”
“Jo-on…..”
“Please?”
She turned to face him, standing in the middle of the bedroom, and slowly pulled her t shirt over her head, shaking out her hair so it covered her. Unbuttoning her khaki shorts, she let them fall around her feet, standing in just her underwear as she peeked at Jon through the curtain of hair. He could see the mischief in her eyes as she looked at him, and he grinned crookedly, waving the fork.
“Come on, baby…….don’t be shy…….”
Smiling, Sara twisted her arms behind her, in that motion that was impossible for any man to replicate, and she unhooked her bra, pulling it over her shoulders, but holding it across her breasts while she shook her hair forward again. When the bra fell to the floor, her hair kept her completely covered, and she stepped out of her shorts, walking toward Jon.
“What about the rest?” Jon asked, and Sara pouted.
“Chocolate.” She demanded, stopping in front of him, her lower lip sticking out so all he wanted to do was suck on it.
He cut a piece of torte and held it for her, and she took it in her mouth, sliding it slowly off the fork.
“Yum.” She whispered, then stepped back and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, tugging them down just a little so a curl of hair appeared over the top.
She stopped, considering.
“You’re still wearing an awful lot of clothes.” She told Jon, and he grinned at her.
“You finish first.” He told her, and she decided just to do as she was told - for once - pushing the thong down toward her knees, where gravity took over and the fabric fell softly to the floor.
She took the single step required to bring her right up to Jon again, everything above her waist still concealed behind her hair as she tucked her fingers into his waistband. Jon smiled again as Sara unbuttoned his jeans, while he dug the fork into the chocolate, cutting away another bite-sized piece which he offered to her. As Sara ate the piece of torte, Jon turned, manoeuvring her toward the bed until her legs bumped against the mattress.
Wordlessly, Sara got onto the bed, kneeling there and taking the plate and fork from Jon’s hands. While she settled herself back on the bed, holding the plate, Jon slid his jeans to the floor and hooked each boot off with the toe of the other, then stripped away his t shirt until he was as naked as she. He knelt on the bottom of the bed, looking up at her, then grabbed her knees and dragged her down so she lay flat in front of him, her legs between his, and his knees gripping her hips.
“I’ll take that.” He told her, removing the plate from her fingers and tossing the fork to the floor.
Jon held the plate to one side as he leaned forward to kiss her, tasting the chocolate in her mouth, and Sara felt his hardness brush against the base of her belly. Straightening up, he dug his fingers into the chocolate filling, scooping some out and holding it in his fingers. Her hair was still in the way, so he laid the plate down on her belly, laughing when she jumped at the chill of the porcelain, and he flicked her hair back, one side then the other, so it lay spread on the pillows above her head.
“That’s better.” Jon muttered, picking up the plate and moving it onto the mattress so he could lean forward over her.
Keeping his eyes on Sara’s body, not meeting her gaze, Jon slowly brought his hand across her breast, smearing chocolate onto her skin, coating her nipple. Now he looked up, smirking at her, then looking down again as he took more chocolate and spread it on her other breast. His fingers were coated in chocolate, too, and Sara reached to catch his wrist, bringing his hand to her mouth and licking his fingers clean.
Jon leaned down over her, licking at the chocolate coating her skin, his tongue rasping over her like a cat’s, rough yet almost unbearably tender, and Sara writhed on the bed even though she tried to lie still. As Jon finished cleaning the chocolate from her breasts, he scraped more chocolate from the plate, wiping it down the centre of her body, down to her navel, then offering her his hand again, letting her tongue cleanse his skin. He started at her navel this time, pressing his tongue hard against her and dragging gradually up her body.
Sara could feel her skin tingling under his tongue, the licking sensation driving her slowly crazy as Jon reached out and gathered up another handful of chocolate, rubbing it across her breasts again, licking it off as she sucked chocolate from his fingers. When the chocolate was gone from her skin, she saw Jon reach out to the plate again.
“Enough…..” she moaned pitifully, but he shook his head, scooping the last of the chocolate onto his fingertips.
“Not yet.” His voice rasped in his throat as he sat back on his heels, keeping his weight just off her legs as he looked at the chocolate on his hand.
“Now, where could I put this?” He asked rhetorically, as Sara squirmed under him, pinned by his knees on either side of her hips as he studied her body.
He grinned as he made his decision, reaching down to wipe his hand across her stomach, filling her navel with the rich, sweet chocolate, then carefully writing his initials just above the line of curls. Putting his hand to her mouth, Jon spread a thin layer of chocolate across her lips, then kissed it off before holding his hand so she could lick away the rest. Sara sucked his fingers into her mouth, then Jon pulled his hand back again as he dropped down her body, his mouth following the faint lingering chocolate scent down to her navel.
His tongue cleaned the chocolate away from around her belly, then he looked up at Sara, mouth poised above her.
“Do you want more chocolate?” He asked, and she smiled.
“Always.”
Jon kissed her belly again, then his tongue thrust into her navel, the unexpected move making Sara gasp in surprise, and he scooped out chocolate on his tongue, rising above her again to plunge his tongue into her mouth, sharing the sweetness in a chocolate-flavoured kiss. When he finally pulled away, Jon returned his tongue to her navel, licking out the remaining chocolate until Sara was begging him to stop, the teasing of his mouth maddening.
Finally, barely able to control himself, Jon slid his mouth up to Sara’s ear.
“What do you want, baby?” He asked softly, then lifted his head to look down at her.
“You.” Her eyes flashed at him, testing his control, but he held on.
“What do you want me to do, Sara?” He dropped his mouth to her ear again. “Do you want me to make love to you?” Jon moved to her other ear, his voice growling. “Or do you want me to fuck you?”
He felt the sharp intake of breath at the second choice, and knew which one she wanted, but he wanted - needed - to hear her say it, and he gazed down into her eyes.
“Which is it, Sara?”
“Fuck me.” She whispered, and he shook his head.
“I can’t hear you, baby.”
Sara reached up both hands and grabbed his hair, pulling his ear to her mouth, knowing why he was teasing her, that he wanted to hear her saying the word.
“I said ‘fuck me’, Jon.”
Jon chuckled and shifted his weight, moving down the bed and positioning himself between Sara’s legs. As he pushed her thighs apart, he could see the coating of slick juices, the result of the teasing, and he carefully pressed forward until just the head of his cock slid inside her, then he stopped, grinning at her, prolonging her agony.
“Which did you say again?”
“Fuck me!” She almost yelled at him, and he gave another short laugh.
“Oh, yeah, that’s right.”
As he finished the sentence, Jon rammed forward, pushing all the way inside her, and Sara gave a guttural moan as he filled her so completely. She reached both hands above her head, grabbing onto the bedframe as Jon drove hard into her again, then his hands came up to cover hers, pinning them to the bar, and they both hung onto the metal bar for dear life as Jon kept up the furious rhythm. Sara’s hips rose against him with every thrust, Jon cumming first with Sara following hard on his heels as he continued to plunge against her until they were both exhausted.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Chapter 60
Richie was sitting in the suite, drinking coffee and playing around with his guitar when Jon walked in.
“Hey buddy - what’s happening?” Jon asked, heading straight for the fridge and a bottle of mineral water.
“Nothin’ much. How ya doin?”
“I’m good. So - how was your date? She still here?”
“No. She didn’t stay. It was a great evening, though.”
“She didn’t stay, but it was a great evening. What happened - she blow you off? Is the legendary Sambora charm failing?”
Sadly, Richie shook his head at Jon.
“Y’know, Jon, not everything is about sex.”
At that moment, Jon was taking a drink from his water, and he choked, spraying water onto the table. Once he’d stopped coughing, he wiped his mouth as he stared at Richie.
“I didn’t just hear that, did I? Since when isn’t everything about sex with you?”
Now Richie looked uncomfortable, as close to embarrassment as Jon had ever seen him in nearly twenty five years.
“I don’t know, bro. It was just, well, we had a great night, and it didn’t feel right to rush into anything. There’s plenty of time, and I think she’s going to come out to LA in a couple of weeks, so we’ll see where it goes.” He looked at Jon seriously. “I hate to say it - after the whole Denise thing, where I got it so wrong - but I think this could be special.”
Jon laughed, but not unkindly, grinning at his brother-who-wasn’t.
“Christ - I think Richie Sambora may be in love already. I can’t believe it!”
Richie wagged a warning finger at him.
“One word for you, Jon. Sara.”
Jon grinned. “Okay - fair point. Well, I wish you luck, bro. After the she-devil, you deserve it.”
Swiftly moving off all the sappy stuff, Jon pointed at the sheaf of paper in front of Richie.
“What you working on?”
“That song we did the other day. I’ve changed the chords, and……”
They quickly got into an involved discussion on the song, Richie playing it through for Jon, showing him the changes he’d made, and Jon made a few amendments to the lyric as they worked. As they worked, Jon suddenly heard a song in his head - he hadn’t even written the words, or the chords, but he could hear it clearly in his mind, totally finished, something which rarely happened. In fact, he thought as he reached for a pen and paper, the last time it had happened was with ‘Always’, which had to be a good omen.
Richie watched, bemused, as Jon scribbled down words and chords without even pausing for thought. He waited until Jon laid the pen down before he spoke, not wanting to break his concentration.
“Had a flash of inspiration, have we?”
Jon laughed self-deprecatingly. “Something like that. Can I borrow your guitar?”
Handing it over, Richie sat back in the chair as Jon played and sang, nodding his head silently as he listened to the song. He also noticed that Jon didn’t even refer to the page he’d written, but sang with his eyes closed, putting his heart into the lyrics. When he finished, Richie applauded softly, and Jon opened his eyes again, pulling himself back out of the song.
“I don’t know where the fuck that came from, Jon, but that’s a hit if I ever heard one. Where did you drag that from?”
Jon gave back the guitar with a shrug. “I’ve no idea. I just heard it in my head, just like that. That hasn’t happened in years.”
“Being in love must be good for you, Jon - remind me to thank Sara. Oh, hey - can you give me her cell number?”
“Why?” Even as he asked, Jon was pulling out his phone to get the number for Richie.
“I promised to tell her about Linda. May as well call her, let her know.”
As Jon read out the number, Richie wrote it on one of the pages in front of him, then Jon looked at his watch.
“Hey - I gotta go. I promised Sara I’d make dinner for her.”
“You? Cook? I’d better warn her to bring take-out.” Richie joked as Jon stood up.
“Prick. I’ll see you later, Rich. Probably tomorrow.”
“Yeah, fine. I’ll just sit around this hotel room, alone. Don’t worry about me.”
“I don’t.” Jon told him as he left the suite, heading for the Chevelle.
In the studio, Sara was sitting with Paul, going over the information for her upcoming UK trip. They’d eaten half the chocolate torte, and Sara was sipping coffee when her cellphone rang. The number on the display was unfamiliar, but she picked up the call anyway.
“Hello?”
“Hey beautiful.”
Definitely not Jon’s voice, so it must be…
“Richie?”
“Yeah. How you doin’, Sara?”
“I’m good. Actually, I’m great. How are you? Ooh - how was your date?”
Paul was looking at her in some surprise. The only Richie he could imagine it being was Sambora, but surely Sara couldn’t be talking that comfortably to him? Sounded as though she was talking to a close friend, but at that moment Sara caught his quizzical look.
“Sorry, Richie, hang on a sec? Paul - sorry - you may as well go on home - I’ll be leaving soon anyway. We can go through the rest of that tomorrow.”
“Sure, boss. See you in the morning.” Paul was still curious, but the offer of an early finish was too tempting to pass up, and he quickly cleared away their plates and headed out the door, hearing Sara talking on her phone as he left.
“Richie - sorry - I was just letting my assistant go early. So, what happened? Was Linda as nice as you hoped?”
“We had a great time, thanks. I think Jon was a little disappointed when I said she didn’t stay the night, but it didn’t feel right, not yet. Besides, she had to work today, so she left just after midnight.”
“Yet?” Sara picked up on the word instantly. “So you’re going to see her again, then?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. I’m trying to get her to come out to LA in a couple of weeks.”
“What, get her on your home ground so she can’t escape so easily? That the idea?”
Richie’s laugh purred through the phone. “You got it, girl. That’s the plan.”
“Well, I’m sure it’ll work - she won’t be able to resist you.”
“From your lips to God’s ear, Sara. Anyway, speaking of being irresistible, I hear you’ve actually got Mr Bon Jovi cooking dinner for you. What have you done to the man?” Before she could answer, though, Richie chuckled again. “Actually, do I want to know what you’ve done to him?”
“RICHIE!” Sara shrieked, but she was laughing. “I don’t know what came over him.” A silent smile spread across her face as she thought ‘but I know he came over me the other day!’, and she had to control her voice as she replied, feeling the heat in her loins as she remembered that episode.
“He just said he’d go do some things then go back to my house and that he’d make dinner. Isn’t he normally this domesticated, then?”
“Hell, no. He just ran on out of here when he realised the time. At least he waited until we’d finished working, so I guess that’s something.”
“What were you working on?”
“Some new songs for the next album. I think Jon came up with a winner, too. Right off the top of his head - wrote it straight down, chords and all. The last time I saw him do that was with ‘Always’. I think you’ve inspired him, Sara.”
“I doubt that. Well, if he’s gone off to cook, I guess I’d better get going. Don’t want to get in trouble if his masterpiece gets ruined because I’m late!”
“Personally, I’d suggest you get some take-out on your way, Sara. Might be safer!”
“Oh, that’s cruel, Richie! I’ll call you, let you know what he made…..if I don’t have food poisoning! Bye.”
“Okay, bye, Sara.”
Hanging up the call, Sara took her mug through to the kitchen, then closed up the box of torte and took it with her when she left. Well, it wouldn’t keep so well until tomorrow, so they may as well eat it for dessert. When she got into the car, she took her cellphone out of her bag.
On his way back from the hotel, Jon had stopped in at a little delicatessen, buying some bits and pieces for dinner, then he headed back to Sara’s house. He had just walked into the house carrying the bag of groceries when his cellphone rang, and it was Sara.
“Hey baby. What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just wanted to let you know I’m on my way home - and I’m really hungry - what are you going to make me?”
Jon grinned as he answered. “Well, I’m going to make you hot and wet and….”
“I meant for dinner!” Sara could feel the burn of her cheeks - and lower - as he spoke.
“Oh, that. Wait and see.”
“It’s just that Richie told me to get take-out…..”
“Don’t listen to him! Just get your ass home - dinner will be ready in,” he looked at his watch, “one hour. Give or take.”
“Okay. D’you need me to bring anything?”
“Just bring your sweet self, baby. Everything’s under control here.”
They said goodbye and hung up, Sara starting the car and beginning the drive home while Jon unpacked his shopping, laying everything out on the counter. He searched through the cupboards, finding the pans and utensils he needed, then made a start on the cooking. Sara had mentioned before that she wasn’t keen on heavy cream pasta sauces, so he was going to make a very light cream sauce, and just hoped she would like it. Before he got started, he went through to the living room and turned on the stereo, leaving the Dylan CD playing while he worked.
Dinner was virtually ready when he heard footsteps behind him, the noise of the front door having been covered by the music.
“Something smells good.” Sara said softly, and he turned to face her.
“Hey, baby.” He stepped forward and kissed her. “Be another five minutes or so. D’you want a drink?”
“Coke would be nice. I’ll just run and get cleaned up - I’ve got time, right?”
“So long as you’re quick.”
She went along to the bedroom, thinking how lovely it was not to come home to an empty house. Finding her comfy old shorts and a clean t shirt, Sara went along to the bathroom and cleaned up, then threw her work clothes in the laundry hamper and went back to the kitchen. Jon was stirring something gently in a pan, and he had laid a glass of coke on the table for her. He lifted the pan as he heard her.
“Perfect timing. Take a seat.”
Sara smiled as she sat down, watching Jon carefully serve some kind of pasta onto two plates. She looked around the kitchen, taking in the used bowls and dishes spread around the surfaces, and she shook her head at the mess.
Jon laid a plate in front of her, then put the other in his place, watching Sara closely as she picked up a fork. He’d already sampled it, so he knew that he liked it, but he waited for Sara’s reaction as she took a forkful of the meal. Sara chewed slowly, enjoying the flavours of the penne, black pepper and smoked salmon, all enrobed in a light, fresh creamy sauce. Jon knew she liked it as she closed her eyes with a smile.
“Oh, my………that’s probably the best pasta I’ve had in years, Jon.” She opened her eyes again. “You really can cook, can’t you!”
“I really can cook this one thing!” He admitted with a smile, starting on his own plateful.
“I could live on this.” Sara told him. “How did you know I love smoked salmon?”
“I didn’t - I just kinda hoped you would.”
They concentrated on the food, until their plates were empty, then Sara remembered her earlier visitor.
“Oh, Kay came by the studio today.”
“Did she now? What did she want?”
“To apologise. She was really sincerely sorry for what she’d said, and we talked it out. I think she’s happy for me, now. She even brought me a chocolate torte.”
“I told you - if she valued your friendship, she’d get back in touch.” Jon reached across to lay his hand over Sara’s. “I’m glad, baby. It’s hard when you’re not getting along with a friend. I know - for a while there, Richie and I were on very shaky ground, so I can sympathise.”
“What? Because of Denise Richards?”
“Yeah - he just wouldn’t listen to anybody. He’s so damned stubborn……..hey - stop laughing - I’m not stubborn!”
“No, of course you’re not, sweetie!”
Sara tried to stop laughing, but she couldn’t, and Jon stopped her when he leaned across the table and kissed her. When he drew back again, her laughter was gone, but she was breathless, eyes sparkling as she looked at him.
“Well, anyway, I think Kay and I are okay again. We talked for ages, and I think I’ve convinced her that you’re not a bad guy after all.”
“Good. It’s good that you’ve sorted things out, baby. I just hope she doesn’t hurt you again - she’ll have to answer to me if she does!”
“Oh, shush. I brought the chocolate torte home, for dessert, if you want some.”
“I definitely want some.” Jon leered at her. “But I’m not talking about chocolate torte.”
“Hey buddy - what’s happening?” Jon asked, heading straight for the fridge and a bottle of mineral water.
“Nothin’ much. How ya doin?”
“I’m good. So - how was your date? She still here?”
“No. She didn’t stay. It was a great evening, though.”
“She didn’t stay, but it was a great evening. What happened - she blow you off? Is the legendary Sambora charm failing?”
Sadly, Richie shook his head at Jon.
“Y’know, Jon, not everything is about sex.”
At that moment, Jon was taking a drink from his water, and he choked, spraying water onto the table. Once he’d stopped coughing, he wiped his mouth as he stared at Richie.
“I didn’t just hear that, did I? Since when isn’t everything about sex with you?”
Now Richie looked uncomfortable, as close to embarrassment as Jon had ever seen him in nearly twenty five years.
“I don’t know, bro. It was just, well, we had a great night, and it didn’t feel right to rush into anything. There’s plenty of time, and I think she’s going to come out to LA in a couple of weeks, so we’ll see where it goes.” He looked at Jon seriously. “I hate to say it - after the whole Denise thing, where I got it so wrong - but I think this could be special.”
Jon laughed, but not unkindly, grinning at his brother-who-wasn’t.
“Christ - I think Richie Sambora may be in love already. I can’t believe it!”
Richie wagged a warning finger at him.
“One word for you, Jon. Sara.”
Jon grinned. “Okay - fair point. Well, I wish you luck, bro. After the she-devil, you deserve it.”
Swiftly moving off all the sappy stuff, Jon pointed at the sheaf of paper in front of Richie.
“What you working on?”
“That song we did the other day. I’ve changed the chords, and……”
They quickly got into an involved discussion on the song, Richie playing it through for Jon, showing him the changes he’d made, and Jon made a few amendments to the lyric as they worked. As they worked, Jon suddenly heard a song in his head - he hadn’t even written the words, or the chords, but he could hear it clearly in his mind, totally finished, something which rarely happened. In fact, he thought as he reached for a pen and paper, the last time it had happened was with ‘Always’, which had to be a good omen.
Richie watched, bemused, as Jon scribbled down words and chords without even pausing for thought. He waited until Jon laid the pen down before he spoke, not wanting to break his concentration.
“Had a flash of inspiration, have we?”
Jon laughed self-deprecatingly. “Something like that. Can I borrow your guitar?”
Handing it over, Richie sat back in the chair as Jon played and sang, nodding his head silently as he listened to the song. He also noticed that Jon didn’t even refer to the page he’d written, but sang with his eyes closed, putting his heart into the lyrics. When he finished, Richie applauded softly, and Jon opened his eyes again, pulling himself back out of the song.
“I don’t know where the fuck that came from, Jon, but that’s a hit if I ever heard one. Where did you drag that from?”
Jon gave back the guitar with a shrug. “I’ve no idea. I just heard it in my head, just like that. That hasn’t happened in years.”
“Being in love must be good for you, Jon - remind me to thank Sara. Oh, hey - can you give me her cell number?”
“Why?” Even as he asked, Jon was pulling out his phone to get the number for Richie.
“I promised to tell her about Linda. May as well call her, let her know.”
As Jon read out the number, Richie wrote it on one of the pages in front of him, then Jon looked at his watch.
“Hey - I gotta go. I promised Sara I’d make dinner for her.”
“You? Cook? I’d better warn her to bring take-out.” Richie joked as Jon stood up.
“Prick. I’ll see you later, Rich. Probably tomorrow.”
“Yeah, fine. I’ll just sit around this hotel room, alone. Don’t worry about me.”
“I don’t.” Jon told him as he left the suite, heading for the Chevelle.
In the studio, Sara was sitting with Paul, going over the information for her upcoming UK trip. They’d eaten half the chocolate torte, and Sara was sipping coffee when her cellphone rang. The number on the display was unfamiliar, but she picked up the call anyway.
“Hello?”
“Hey beautiful.”
Definitely not Jon’s voice, so it must be…
“Richie?”
“Yeah. How you doin’, Sara?”
“I’m good. Actually, I’m great. How are you? Ooh - how was your date?”
Paul was looking at her in some surprise. The only Richie he could imagine it being was Sambora, but surely Sara couldn’t be talking that comfortably to him? Sounded as though she was talking to a close friend, but at that moment Sara caught his quizzical look.
“Sorry, Richie, hang on a sec? Paul - sorry - you may as well go on home - I’ll be leaving soon anyway. We can go through the rest of that tomorrow.”
“Sure, boss. See you in the morning.” Paul was still curious, but the offer of an early finish was too tempting to pass up, and he quickly cleared away their plates and headed out the door, hearing Sara talking on her phone as he left.
“Richie - sorry - I was just letting my assistant go early. So, what happened? Was Linda as nice as you hoped?”
“We had a great time, thanks. I think Jon was a little disappointed when I said she didn’t stay the night, but it didn’t feel right, not yet. Besides, she had to work today, so she left just after midnight.”
“Yet?” Sara picked up on the word instantly. “So you’re going to see her again, then?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. I’m trying to get her to come out to LA in a couple of weeks.”
“What, get her on your home ground so she can’t escape so easily? That the idea?”
Richie’s laugh purred through the phone. “You got it, girl. That’s the plan.”
“Well, I’m sure it’ll work - she won’t be able to resist you.”
“From your lips to God’s ear, Sara. Anyway, speaking of being irresistible, I hear you’ve actually got Mr Bon Jovi cooking dinner for you. What have you done to the man?” Before she could answer, though, Richie chuckled again. “Actually, do I want to know what you’ve done to him?”
“RICHIE!” Sara shrieked, but she was laughing. “I don’t know what came over him.” A silent smile spread across her face as she thought ‘but I know he came over me the other day!’, and she had to control her voice as she replied, feeling the heat in her loins as she remembered that episode.
“He just said he’d go do some things then go back to my house and that he’d make dinner. Isn’t he normally this domesticated, then?”
“Hell, no. He just ran on out of here when he realised the time. At least he waited until we’d finished working, so I guess that’s something.”
“What were you working on?”
“Some new songs for the next album. I think Jon came up with a winner, too. Right off the top of his head - wrote it straight down, chords and all. The last time I saw him do that was with ‘Always’. I think you’ve inspired him, Sara.”
“I doubt that. Well, if he’s gone off to cook, I guess I’d better get going. Don’t want to get in trouble if his masterpiece gets ruined because I’m late!”
“Personally, I’d suggest you get some take-out on your way, Sara. Might be safer!”
“Oh, that’s cruel, Richie! I’ll call you, let you know what he made…..if I don’t have food poisoning! Bye.”
“Okay, bye, Sara.”
Hanging up the call, Sara took her mug through to the kitchen, then closed up the box of torte and took it with her when she left. Well, it wouldn’t keep so well until tomorrow, so they may as well eat it for dessert. When she got into the car, she took her cellphone out of her bag.
On his way back from the hotel, Jon had stopped in at a little delicatessen, buying some bits and pieces for dinner, then he headed back to Sara’s house. He had just walked into the house carrying the bag of groceries when his cellphone rang, and it was Sara.
“Hey baby. What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just wanted to let you know I’m on my way home - and I’m really hungry - what are you going to make me?”
Jon grinned as he answered. “Well, I’m going to make you hot and wet and….”
“I meant for dinner!” Sara could feel the burn of her cheeks - and lower - as he spoke.
“Oh, that. Wait and see.”
“It’s just that Richie told me to get take-out…..”
“Don’t listen to him! Just get your ass home - dinner will be ready in,” he looked at his watch, “one hour. Give or take.”
“Okay. D’you need me to bring anything?”
“Just bring your sweet self, baby. Everything’s under control here.”
They said goodbye and hung up, Sara starting the car and beginning the drive home while Jon unpacked his shopping, laying everything out on the counter. He searched through the cupboards, finding the pans and utensils he needed, then made a start on the cooking. Sara had mentioned before that she wasn’t keen on heavy cream pasta sauces, so he was going to make a very light cream sauce, and just hoped she would like it. Before he got started, he went through to the living room and turned on the stereo, leaving the Dylan CD playing while he worked.
Dinner was virtually ready when he heard footsteps behind him, the noise of the front door having been covered by the music.
“Something smells good.” Sara said softly, and he turned to face her.
“Hey, baby.” He stepped forward and kissed her. “Be another five minutes or so. D’you want a drink?”
“Coke would be nice. I’ll just run and get cleaned up - I’ve got time, right?”
“So long as you’re quick.”
She went along to the bedroom, thinking how lovely it was not to come home to an empty house. Finding her comfy old shorts and a clean t shirt, Sara went along to the bathroom and cleaned up, then threw her work clothes in the laundry hamper and went back to the kitchen. Jon was stirring something gently in a pan, and he had laid a glass of coke on the table for her. He lifted the pan as he heard her.
“Perfect timing. Take a seat.”
Sara smiled as she sat down, watching Jon carefully serve some kind of pasta onto two plates. She looked around the kitchen, taking in the used bowls and dishes spread around the surfaces, and she shook her head at the mess.
Jon laid a plate in front of her, then put the other in his place, watching Sara closely as she picked up a fork. He’d already sampled it, so he knew that he liked it, but he waited for Sara’s reaction as she took a forkful of the meal. Sara chewed slowly, enjoying the flavours of the penne, black pepper and smoked salmon, all enrobed in a light, fresh creamy sauce. Jon knew she liked it as she closed her eyes with a smile.
“Oh, my………that’s probably the best pasta I’ve had in years, Jon.” She opened her eyes again. “You really can cook, can’t you!”
“I really can cook this one thing!” He admitted with a smile, starting on his own plateful.
“I could live on this.” Sara told him. “How did you know I love smoked salmon?”
“I didn’t - I just kinda hoped you would.”
They concentrated on the food, until their plates were empty, then Sara remembered her earlier visitor.
“Oh, Kay came by the studio today.”
“Did she now? What did she want?”
“To apologise. She was really sincerely sorry for what she’d said, and we talked it out. I think she’s happy for me, now. She even brought me a chocolate torte.”
“I told you - if she valued your friendship, she’d get back in touch.” Jon reached across to lay his hand over Sara’s. “I’m glad, baby. It’s hard when you’re not getting along with a friend. I know - for a while there, Richie and I were on very shaky ground, so I can sympathise.”
“What? Because of Denise Richards?”
“Yeah - he just wouldn’t listen to anybody. He’s so damned stubborn……..hey - stop laughing - I’m not stubborn!”
“No, of course you’re not, sweetie!”
Sara tried to stop laughing, but she couldn’t, and Jon stopped her when he leaned across the table and kissed her. When he drew back again, her laughter was gone, but she was breathless, eyes sparkling as she looked at him.
“Well, anyway, I think Kay and I are okay again. We talked for ages, and I think I’ve convinced her that you’re not a bad guy after all.”
“Good. It’s good that you’ve sorted things out, baby. I just hope she doesn’t hurt you again - she’ll have to answer to me if she does!”
“Oh, shush. I brought the chocolate torte home, for dessert, if you want some.”
“I definitely want some.” Jon leered at her. “But I’m not talking about chocolate torte.”
Chapter 59
Sara threw her bag into the car and drove to the studio in record time, managing to beat Paul in by the skin of her teeth. She ran upstairs and opened up, getting the coffee going before sorting the mail. There was an envelope from a national equestrian magazine, and she tore it open as she went to pour coffee. Before she could read the letter, though, she heard the door open then slam, and Paul’s voice rang out.
“Sara? Where are you?”
“Here.” She poked her head out of the kitchen. “You want coffee?”
“Yeah. And an explanation!”
“Excuse me? An explanation for what?” She walked out of the kitchen toward him.
“For this.” Paul waved a copy of the newspaper she’d seen at the apartment building. “That is you, isn’t it?”
She sighed. She’d hoped to get away with this, but it looked like she’d have to come clean.
“Yes. I didn’t think anybody would recognise me, though. Actually, I didn’t expect it to make the papers - it was only a birthday party!”
“Well, first of all, DAMN you look hot in that photo, boss! Second, it’s not ‘only a birthday party’ when it’s for a movie star, and you turn up sandwiched between two rock stars and, third - you’re seeing who? Jon or Richie? Despite what the paper says, I know you wouldn’t be dating them both.” He paused, frowning. “Would you?”
“Jon. I’m seeing Jon.” Okay, she thought, that was scary, saying it out loud. Then something else filtered into her brain. “The paper says WHAT?!”
“Read it for yourself. Not the kind of thing I’m going to say to my boss.” Paul handed over the paper and made for the kitchen. “I’ll get the coffee.”
Sara took the paper and walked over to the couch, her mouth falling open as she read the sub-heading that she hadn’t seen before. Now that she thought about it, she realised Jon had deliberately blocked her view, stopping her from reading it, and the thoughtfulness made her smile. The text, though, was anything but amusing, and the only thing that really pleased her about the short article was that they didn’t know her name. There was speculation about whether she was with Jon, or Richie, or both of them, or that she was a hired companion, but it really wasn’t all that bad, since it was so impersonal, because there was no name.
Paul brought the coffee, and she realised that the time he’d been gone was far longer than necessary to pour coffee, and she guessed he’d been giving her space while she read.
“I really didn’t think anybody would know it was me.” She said, dropping the paper on the table and taking a coffee from him.
“Well, you do look pretty different. I think it’s just my professional eye that sees the resemblance. Can’t hide much from us photographers, you know.” He joked, and Sara smiled.
“Hopefully nobody else will recognise me.”
“So - come on then! What’s going on with you and Mr Rock Star?”
“I’ve only been seeing him a couple of weeks.” As she replied, Sara finally unfolded the letter she’d opened, scanning the text then beginning to smile.
“What?” Paul asked, seeing the grin.
“It’s from Practical Horseman. Do you remember I submitted a proposal to them when they asked if I’d go to the UK for them? They wanted somebody to go over and photograph fox hunting, before it’s banned. This is great - they want me to do it. Ooh - not so good - they need me to go at the end of next week.”
“How long for?” Paul stood up and went to the workdesk for Sara’s diary.
“Looks like a couple of weeks. There’s a list of hunts they want me to photograph, and dates of the meets they’d like covered. Yeah, almost three weeks.”
“Well, according to your diary, boss, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I guess I’ll give them a call, then, tell them I definitely want the job.”
“You do that - I’ll hold the fort here.” Paul raised his coffee mug to his lips, then paused. “Oh, nice try - changing the subject, huh? So, you and Mr Bon Jovi?”
“Paul - it’s not a big deal, really. And, before you ask, no - this has nothing to do with him and his wife divorcing.”
“Not a big deal.” Paul repeated. “Well, all I’ll say is this, Sara. It looks as though he’s making you happy, and I think you deserve it - it’s been a long time coming.”
“Thanks, Paul. It’s nice to know you care.” She stood up. “I’d better call this guy at Practical Horseman.”
As she walked toward the workdesk, though, someone knocked on the door, so she changed direction, heading over to open it. She got a shock, though, when she pulled the door wide, finding Kay standing outside holding a gift box, a penitent look on her face.
“Sara. I’m sorry, okay. I was out of line, and I apologise. Can we at least talk?”
Sara stared for a moment, but her forgiving nature had already glossed over the earlier disagreement, and she nodded slightly. She’d never been able to stay angry at Kay for very long.
“Okay - come on in. D’you want coffee?”
Kay looked relieved as she stepped over the threshold, holding out the box to Sara.
“I brought you something, to help make amends.”
Opening the box, Sara found a chocolate torte, and she shook her head as she started to smile.
“Am I that predictable?”
Over at the couch, Paul grimaced when he saw who the visitor was. Even though he didn’t know about the argument, he just didn’t like Kay, and he stood up with his coffee in hand, going over to the workdesk to return Sara’s diary.
Sara got another mug of coffee for herself, and poured one for Kay, then led her friend over to the couch. As she passed Paul, Sara saw the frown on his face, but ignored it.
“Paul, would you mind doing me a favour and calling that editor? Tell him I’ll take the assignment, and ask him to fax or email me more details. Thanks.”
“Not a problem, Sara.” Paul replied, sitting down at the desk and ignoring Kay.
The two girls sat down - Sara on the armchair, Kay on the couch - and Kay took a sip of coffee before she spoke.
“God, I was hoping you’d cooled off enough to hear me out, Sara. All I can say is I was worried about you, and I guess it all came out wrong. Can we put it behind us? I’m really, truly sorry for what I said - and for whatever message I left on your machine.”
Sara stared down into her coffee, but she wasn’t one to hold a grudge, and Kay was a very old friend. Added to that, for the last couple of weeks, Sara had been on a real emotional high, and she’d had nobody to share it with. Well, Jon, obviously, but sometimes you just needed a girlfriend to talk to! She’d missed Kay, especially since the night she’d sprung the whole Jon thing on her, and she thought maybe that was at least partly to blame for Kay’s outburst.
“Let’s try, at least. See if we can just forget what happened and move forward.”
Kay smiled, settling back more comfortably into the couch with her coffee, looking at Sara expectantly.
“So……..tell me, then. What’s going on with you and the rock star?”
“I don’t really know.” Sara began hesitantly. “We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of weeks, that’s all, and………well, I really like him, Kay. Being with him makes me happy.”
“I can see that. I’ve never seen you this, well, joyful I guess. He’s obviously doing something right.”
“He’s doing everything right, Kay. Everything I could’ve dreamed, and then some. Yesterday, when we got back to my house, he’d had a ton of roses delivered for me - all different colours. First time in thirty two years anybody has bought me flowers. God, I lo………ummmmm……..I really, really like him.”
Kay raised her eyebrows silently at Sara’s slip, almost saying she loved Jon. They chatted a while, all the usual girly chat about a new man in one of their lives, until Paul wandered over to interrupt.
“Sara - sorry - do you want any lunch? I’m just to run out for a sandwich.” He paused, then decided to be nice. “Kay - can I get you anything?”
Sara shook her head. “I’m fine, Paul. Kay brought a chocolate torte, so help yourself to that, too.”
“Thanks, Paul.” Kay replied, a little surprised he’d even asked her. “I guess I need to get going. I was only supposed to be slipping out of the office for a few minutes.”
Kay and Sara both stood up, and Sara walked Kay and Paul to the door.
“Actually, Paul - if you can, would you mind getting me some fries or something? I am a little hungry.”
“Sure thing.”
Sara let the two of them out, then closed the door and headed over to the desk, finding that Paul had already switched on her PC, and she clicked through into the email. The editor at Practical Horseman had replied already, and she printed out the full list of hunts, contact names and the list of hotels they’d booked for her. Fantastic - at least she wouldn’t need to try to figure out where to stay!
Paul and Kay went downstairs together or, at least, at the same time. They didn’t speak, and went their separate ways as soon as they got outside, Paul walking along the road toward the sandwich shop while Kay got into her car, pulling out a cellphone as she sat down.
After Sara left, Jon lay in bed for a few minutes, absently rubbing the house key between his fingers, then he laid it aside and headed for the shower. When he’d dried off and dressed - if he was going to keep staying over at Sara’s, he thought, maybe he should think about leaving a couple of clean shirts here - putting on yesterday’s clothes was getting old fast. He poured the last of the coffee into his mug and switched off the machine, then he finished the coffee and left, locking the door behind him.
He drove out to the big house he’d shared with his family, finding that the kids had already gone off to school, and Dot wasn’t back yet. Quickly changing into clean jeans and shirt, he threw some more clothes into a bag and dumped it in the trunk of the Chevelle, then left again. Already, the house didn’t seem like home, and he almost felt like an intruder, like he was sneaking about where he didn’t belong. He drove into the city, to his office, where his assistant, Sue, pounced on him the second he walked through the door.
After he’d fielded most of the questions about what was going on, who this girl was, and why he was moving into an apartment, he finally managed to get her to concentrate on work. A couple of hours later, his head was throbbing from going through so much paperwork, some of it for the band and fan club stuff, some of it for the Soul, the remainder made up of the usual assortment of invitations to various events. He marked the ones he’d attend, leaving a pile for Sue to go through, to make the relevant ‘yes or no’ replies, then he checked the band calendar.
There was a date marked, the following weekend, where the band were performing a ‘one night only’ show at the Hard Rock Café, down in Florida, and Jon thought it would be an ideal opportunity to tell Dave, Tico and Hugh about Sara. The more he thought about it, he decided to take Sara along - she already knew Richie, so it wouldn’t be too awkward. His mom was back down in Florida now, too, so maybe they could go see her. He’d like Sara to meet his mom, but maybe it would be too soon for her - he’d leave that decision to Sara.
Finally free of the paperwork, Jon said goodbye to Sue and headed back down to the Chevelle, making the short drive to the Four Seasons and heading up to the suite once he’d left his baby in Billy’s tender care.
“Sara? Where are you?”
“Here.” She poked her head out of the kitchen. “You want coffee?”
“Yeah. And an explanation!”
“Excuse me? An explanation for what?” She walked out of the kitchen toward him.
“For this.” Paul waved a copy of the newspaper she’d seen at the apartment building. “That is you, isn’t it?”
She sighed. She’d hoped to get away with this, but it looked like she’d have to come clean.
“Yes. I didn’t think anybody would recognise me, though. Actually, I didn’t expect it to make the papers - it was only a birthday party!”
“Well, first of all, DAMN you look hot in that photo, boss! Second, it’s not ‘only a birthday party’ when it’s for a movie star, and you turn up sandwiched between two rock stars and, third - you’re seeing who? Jon or Richie? Despite what the paper says, I know you wouldn’t be dating them both.” He paused, frowning. “Would you?”
“Jon. I’m seeing Jon.” Okay, she thought, that was scary, saying it out loud. Then something else filtered into her brain. “The paper says WHAT?!”
“Read it for yourself. Not the kind of thing I’m going to say to my boss.” Paul handed over the paper and made for the kitchen. “I’ll get the coffee.”
Sara took the paper and walked over to the couch, her mouth falling open as she read the sub-heading that she hadn’t seen before. Now that she thought about it, she realised Jon had deliberately blocked her view, stopping her from reading it, and the thoughtfulness made her smile. The text, though, was anything but amusing, and the only thing that really pleased her about the short article was that they didn’t know her name. There was speculation about whether she was with Jon, or Richie, or both of them, or that she was a hired companion, but it really wasn’t all that bad, since it was so impersonal, because there was no name.
Paul brought the coffee, and she realised that the time he’d been gone was far longer than necessary to pour coffee, and she guessed he’d been giving her space while she read.
“I really didn’t think anybody would know it was me.” She said, dropping the paper on the table and taking a coffee from him.
“Well, you do look pretty different. I think it’s just my professional eye that sees the resemblance. Can’t hide much from us photographers, you know.” He joked, and Sara smiled.
“Hopefully nobody else will recognise me.”
“So - come on then! What’s going on with you and Mr Rock Star?”
“I’ve only been seeing him a couple of weeks.” As she replied, Sara finally unfolded the letter she’d opened, scanning the text then beginning to smile.
“What?” Paul asked, seeing the grin.
“It’s from Practical Horseman. Do you remember I submitted a proposal to them when they asked if I’d go to the UK for them? They wanted somebody to go over and photograph fox hunting, before it’s banned. This is great - they want me to do it. Ooh - not so good - they need me to go at the end of next week.”
“How long for?” Paul stood up and went to the workdesk for Sara’s diary.
“Looks like a couple of weeks. There’s a list of hunts they want me to photograph, and dates of the meets they’d like covered. Yeah, almost three weeks.”
“Well, according to your diary, boss, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I guess I’ll give them a call, then, tell them I definitely want the job.”
“You do that - I’ll hold the fort here.” Paul raised his coffee mug to his lips, then paused. “Oh, nice try - changing the subject, huh? So, you and Mr Bon Jovi?”
“Paul - it’s not a big deal, really. And, before you ask, no - this has nothing to do with him and his wife divorcing.”
“Not a big deal.” Paul repeated. “Well, all I’ll say is this, Sara. It looks as though he’s making you happy, and I think you deserve it - it’s been a long time coming.”
“Thanks, Paul. It’s nice to know you care.” She stood up. “I’d better call this guy at Practical Horseman.”
As she walked toward the workdesk, though, someone knocked on the door, so she changed direction, heading over to open it. She got a shock, though, when she pulled the door wide, finding Kay standing outside holding a gift box, a penitent look on her face.
“Sara. I’m sorry, okay. I was out of line, and I apologise. Can we at least talk?”
Sara stared for a moment, but her forgiving nature had already glossed over the earlier disagreement, and she nodded slightly. She’d never been able to stay angry at Kay for very long.
“Okay - come on in. D’you want coffee?”
Kay looked relieved as she stepped over the threshold, holding out the box to Sara.
“I brought you something, to help make amends.”
Opening the box, Sara found a chocolate torte, and she shook her head as she started to smile.
“Am I that predictable?”
Over at the couch, Paul grimaced when he saw who the visitor was. Even though he didn’t know about the argument, he just didn’t like Kay, and he stood up with his coffee in hand, going over to the workdesk to return Sara’s diary.
Sara got another mug of coffee for herself, and poured one for Kay, then led her friend over to the couch. As she passed Paul, Sara saw the frown on his face, but ignored it.
“Paul, would you mind doing me a favour and calling that editor? Tell him I’ll take the assignment, and ask him to fax or email me more details. Thanks.”
“Not a problem, Sara.” Paul replied, sitting down at the desk and ignoring Kay.
The two girls sat down - Sara on the armchair, Kay on the couch - and Kay took a sip of coffee before she spoke.
“God, I was hoping you’d cooled off enough to hear me out, Sara. All I can say is I was worried about you, and I guess it all came out wrong. Can we put it behind us? I’m really, truly sorry for what I said - and for whatever message I left on your machine.”
Sara stared down into her coffee, but she wasn’t one to hold a grudge, and Kay was a very old friend. Added to that, for the last couple of weeks, Sara had been on a real emotional high, and she’d had nobody to share it with. Well, Jon, obviously, but sometimes you just needed a girlfriend to talk to! She’d missed Kay, especially since the night she’d sprung the whole Jon thing on her, and she thought maybe that was at least partly to blame for Kay’s outburst.
“Let’s try, at least. See if we can just forget what happened and move forward.”
Kay smiled, settling back more comfortably into the couch with her coffee, looking at Sara expectantly.
“So……..tell me, then. What’s going on with you and the rock star?”
“I don’t really know.” Sara began hesitantly. “We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of weeks, that’s all, and………well, I really like him, Kay. Being with him makes me happy.”
“I can see that. I’ve never seen you this, well, joyful I guess. He’s obviously doing something right.”
“He’s doing everything right, Kay. Everything I could’ve dreamed, and then some. Yesterday, when we got back to my house, he’d had a ton of roses delivered for me - all different colours. First time in thirty two years anybody has bought me flowers. God, I lo………ummmmm……..I really, really like him.”
Kay raised her eyebrows silently at Sara’s slip, almost saying she loved Jon. They chatted a while, all the usual girly chat about a new man in one of their lives, until Paul wandered over to interrupt.
“Sara - sorry - do you want any lunch? I’m just to run out for a sandwich.” He paused, then decided to be nice. “Kay - can I get you anything?”
Sara shook her head. “I’m fine, Paul. Kay brought a chocolate torte, so help yourself to that, too.”
“Thanks, Paul.” Kay replied, a little surprised he’d even asked her. “I guess I need to get going. I was only supposed to be slipping out of the office for a few minutes.”
Kay and Sara both stood up, and Sara walked Kay and Paul to the door.
“Actually, Paul - if you can, would you mind getting me some fries or something? I am a little hungry.”
“Sure thing.”
Sara let the two of them out, then closed the door and headed over to the desk, finding that Paul had already switched on her PC, and she clicked through into the email. The editor at Practical Horseman had replied already, and she printed out the full list of hunts, contact names and the list of hotels they’d booked for her. Fantastic - at least she wouldn’t need to try to figure out where to stay!
Paul and Kay went downstairs together or, at least, at the same time. They didn’t speak, and went their separate ways as soon as they got outside, Paul walking along the road toward the sandwich shop while Kay got into her car, pulling out a cellphone as she sat down.
After Sara left, Jon lay in bed for a few minutes, absently rubbing the house key between his fingers, then he laid it aside and headed for the shower. When he’d dried off and dressed - if he was going to keep staying over at Sara’s, he thought, maybe he should think about leaving a couple of clean shirts here - putting on yesterday’s clothes was getting old fast. He poured the last of the coffee into his mug and switched off the machine, then he finished the coffee and left, locking the door behind him.
He drove out to the big house he’d shared with his family, finding that the kids had already gone off to school, and Dot wasn’t back yet. Quickly changing into clean jeans and shirt, he threw some more clothes into a bag and dumped it in the trunk of the Chevelle, then left again. Already, the house didn’t seem like home, and he almost felt like an intruder, like he was sneaking about where he didn’t belong. He drove into the city, to his office, where his assistant, Sue, pounced on him the second he walked through the door.
After he’d fielded most of the questions about what was going on, who this girl was, and why he was moving into an apartment, he finally managed to get her to concentrate on work. A couple of hours later, his head was throbbing from going through so much paperwork, some of it for the band and fan club stuff, some of it for the Soul, the remainder made up of the usual assortment of invitations to various events. He marked the ones he’d attend, leaving a pile for Sue to go through, to make the relevant ‘yes or no’ replies, then he checked the band calendar.
There was a date marked, the following weekend, where the band were performing a ‘one night only’ show at the Hard Rock Café, down in Florida, and Jon thought it would be an ideal opportunity to tell Dave, Tico and Hugh about Sara. The more he thought about it, he decided to take Sara along - she already knew Richie, so it wouldn’t be too awkward. His mom was back down in Florida now, too, so maybe they could go see her. He’d like Sara to meet his mom, but maybe it would be too soon for her - he’d leave that decision to Sara.
Finally free of the paperwork, Jon said goodbye to Sue and headed back down to the Chevelle, making the short drive to the Four Seasons and heading up to the suite once he’d left his baby in Billy’s tender care.
Chapter 58
Ignoring the group of girls for a moment, Richie watched Linda walk off down the street, waiting until he saw her get safely into her car and drive away. Slightly saddened, he turned back to the girls, signing the last few autographs and posing for photos. Once all of the girls had what they wanted - or at least as much as they were getting - Richie said goodbye and returned to the hotel, going straight up to the suite.
It had been, he thought as he prised his boots off, a very grown-up evening. Not that he hadn’t wanted to take Linda into his bed and make love to her until she begged for mercy, but neither of them had felt the urge to cheapen what was a very promising beginning. Anyway, he thought, there was always next time, when she’d be on his home turf and couldn’t get away so easily!
Richie felt extremely virtuous as he threw back the cover and climbed into bed, and he slept the sleep of an innocent baby.
Sara jolted awake, momentarily disorientated until she realised she was stretched out on her own couch, in her own living room, with her own rock star asleep at the other end of the couch, still holding onto her bare feet. She looked over at the clock, although the deep gloom had already told her it was late. Somewhere after three in the morning, so it didn’t look like Jon would be going back to the hotel tonight, then. Her neck ached from the awkward position she’d been sleeping in, and she rolled her head from side to side, trying to loosen off the protesting muscles.
“Jon?”
No reaction, so Sara moved one foot, scrunching her toes into his tummy as she said his name again. This time, the combination of her voice and the irritating pressure of her foot woke him, and Sara heard his groan as he tried to straighten his neck.
“We fell asleep?” He asked, realising as he said it what a dumb question it was.
“Mmhm. It’s gone three am, so I’m guessing you don’t want to drive back to the hotel?”
“No way. Lead me to your bed, baby.”
“You know where the spare room is, right?” She teased him, and he looked shocked for a moment, until his sleep-fogged mind worked out that she was kidding.
“Only one place I’m sleeping.” He told her with a grin. “And that’s right beside you. The way it should be.”
“Oh, okay then.” She smiled back at him, swinging her feet to the floor.
Sara stood, then took Jon’s offered hand and hauled him to his feet, and they hobbled together to the bedroom, cramped muscles making them move slowly.
Standing by the bed, they stripped off their clothes into a messy pile and fell onto the sheets, Jon pulling the cover up over their bodies as Sara tucked herself naturally against him, shivering slightly until their bodies warmed the bed. They quickly fell asleep again, and didn’t wake until Sara’s annoying - and very loud - alarm clock began to shriek.
“Already?” Sara muttered, feeling really grouchy from lack of sleep as she slapped the alarm and killed it.
Unbelievably, Jon had slept through the alarm, and Sara was almost glad - she’d be able to shower and have some coffee to come to life before he woke and encountered - for the first time - grumpy Sara! As she sat up, the roses caught her attention, and her morning mood faded away instantly as she looked at them. Of course, the roses made her think of Jon, and she turned to look down at him, his face relaxed in slumber, one muscled arm sprawled onto her side of the bed. She leaned across to gently press a kiss to those soft lips, trying not to wake him, then she tore herself away, tiptoeing out of the room.
First stop was the kitchen, and she got the coffee brewing before she headed to the bathroom. The shower certainly helped, and she went back to the kitchen wearing her dragon robe, pouring her first mug of coffee, and savouring that first delicious mouthful. Feeling a whole lot better, she fixed coffee for Jon and padded along to the bedroom.
Jon had kicked the cover down, and he was lying on his front, and Sara licked her lips involuntarily as she gazed at his perfect ass. Giving in to impulse, Sara laid the two mugs of coffee on the bedside table and sat down on the bed. She stroked the tangled blond hair back from his face, revealing a sculptured cheekbone, then ran her hand slowly down his back. Sara hesitated a second at the pit of his back, letting her fingers rest on his skin, then she tenderly brushed her hand across his ass, the muscles - even in sleep - taut and hard under her touch. Her fingers continued their journey, down onto his thigh, until she couldn’t reach any further without changing her position on the bed. She reversed direction, trailing her fingers back up the slope of his buttock, dragging her nails against him and seeing the muscles bunching at the sensation. Jon gave a deep sigh, but Sara didn’t realise he’d actually woken until he spoke suddenly.
“You know - that could constitute sexual harassment - taking advantage of me while I’m asleep.”
Sara jumped when he spoke, but her hand remained firmly on his ass.
“Only if you said no.” She told him, getting caught unawares as Jon quickly rolled onto his back, so her hand now rested on his crotch as he grinned at her.
“I could never say no to you, Sara. Good morning.”
He puckered his lips in an exaggerated fashion, and Sara giggled as she leaned in to kiss him.
“Morning, Jon. I brought you some coffee.”
“Thanks, babe.”
He pushed himself up to sit against the headboard, pulling the cover to his waist and patting the piece of mattress next to him, inviting Sara to sit beside him. She picked up the coffees then planted herself next to Jon, handing over his mug. He took a sip.
“Jesus! That’s not coffee - it’s rocket fuel!” But his smile robbed the words of any offence, and he took another drink. “What time is it anyway?”
“After eight.” Sara said. “You slept through the alarm. I don’t know how - the damned thing scares the pants off me every morning!”
“Good job you weren’t wearing any, then.” He looked speculatively at her robe and wet hair. “Are you wearing any now? Panties, I mean?”
“I just got out of the shower. What do you think?”
Jon grinned, transferring his coffee mug to the other hand and touching her robe where it covered her belly.
“Let’s see.”
He slid his hand down over the black satin, pressing firmly enough to be able to feel if there was another layer of clothing underneath. Didn’t feel like it. The exploring hand moved down onto her thigh, sneaking back up under the hem of the robe to check more fully. Nothing. Not even one of those wisps of lace Sara seemed to favour, just the sweet nest of curls that he toyed with as he drank down the last of his coffee.
“So - what’s the verdict?” Sara asked, squirming only a little as his fingers teased a little lower.
“Oh, I think you’re guilty all right. Guilty of being sexy as hell, guilty of driving me crazy when I look at you.”
“And what’s the punishment for that?” Sara asked with a smile.
“I’ll think of something appropriate.” Jon muttered as he reached across her to lay down his mug, taking Sara’s out of her unprotesting grasp and setting is aside too.
On the return trip, Jon’s hand caught her shoulder, twisting her around to face him and licking his lips before touching his mouth to hers. The kiss deepened as Sara drew his tongue into her mouth, and Jon was just taking hold of the belt on her robe when another alarm sounded, this time on Sara’s cellphone.
“Shit!” She pulled away from Jon, reaching out to grab her phone and silence the alarm. “Shit!” She said again, slamming her head back against the wall with an impact that made Jon wince.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have to go to work.” She said, looking at him in a plea for understanding. “I mean, I need to leave right now.”
“You may want to get dressed first.” Jon said with a smile, but he could see in her eyes that she was serious - maybe not happy about it - but serious that she had to leave.
“Baby, it’s fine. I know your work’s important to you.” He reassured her.
“But so are you.”
Jon grinned at that. “And I’ll be here when you’re finished work.”
“What? Today?”
Thinking quickly, confirming he didn’t have much to do today, Jon nodded.
“How about this? You get ready and go to work. I’ll clean up and go do what I need to, then I’ll come back here. Hell, I’ll even cook dinner for you! How does that sound?”
“Sounds like heaven. Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Sara tilted her head as she looked at him. “You can cook?”
“Of course I can cook! I’m Italian, remember?!”
Laughing, Sara kissed him softly, then dragged herself off the bed. She ran to the closet, untying her robe on the way, which nearly undid her good intentions as Jon watched the satin flap open, giving final confirmation that it was all she wore. In minutes, she came back out of the closet, dressed in jeans and t shirt, and went straight to the dresser, tying her hair back in a knot. She opened a jewellery box and took out a key, then came back to the bed, kneeling on the side.
“I guess if you’re going to come back, you’ll need a key, huh?” She offered him the key, and Jon took it with a smile.
“Thanks, Sara. Now get going!”
“I know, I know!”
She pressed her lips to his briefly, then jumped off the bed again, grabbing her bag on the way out of the bedroom.
“See you later, baby.” She said, pausing in the doorway.
“Yeah, you will, love.”
Then she was gone.
It had been, he thought as he prised his boots off, a very grown-up evening. Not that he hadn’t wanted to take Linda into his bed and make love to her until she begged for mercy, but neither of them had felt the urge to cheapen what was a very promising beginning. Anyway, he thought, there was always next time, when she’d be on his home turf and couldn’t get away so easily!
Richie felt extremely virtuous as he threw back the cover and climbed into bed, and he slept the sleep of an innocent baby.
Sara jolted awake, momentarily disorientated until she realised she was stretched out on her own couch, in her own living room, with her own rock star asleep at the other end of the couch, still holding onto her bare feet. She looked over at the clock, although the deep gloom had already told her it was late. Somewhere after three in the morning, so it didn’t look like Jon would be going back to the hotel tonight, then. Her neck ached from the awkward position she’d been sleeping in, and she rolled her head from side to side, trying to loosen off the protesting muscles.
“Jon?”
No reaction, so Sara moved one foot, scrunching her toes into his tummy as she said his name again. This time, the combination of her voice and the irritating pressure of her foot woke him, and Sara heard his groan as he tried to straighten his neck.
“We fell asleep?” He asked, realising as he said it what a dumb question it was.
“Mmhm. It’s gone three am, so I’m guessing you don’t want to drive back to the hotel?”
“No way. Lead me to your bed, baby.”
“You know where the spare room is, right?” She teased him, and he looked shocked for a moment, until his sleep-fogged mind worked out that she was kidding.
“Only one place I’m sleeping.” He told her with a grin. “And that’s right beside you. The way it should be.”
“Oh, okay then.” She smiled back at him, swinging her feet to the floor.
Sara stood, then took Jon’s offered hand and hauled him to his feet, and they hobbled together to the bedroom, cramped muscles making them move slowly.
Standing by the bed, they stripped off their clothes into a messy pile and fell onto the sheets, Jon pulling the cover up over their bodies as Sara tucked herself naturally against him, shivering slightly until their bodies warmed the bed. They quickly fell asleep again, and didn’t wake until Sara’s annoying - and very loud - alarm clock began to shriek.
“Already?” Sara muttered, feeling really grouchy from lack of sleep as she slapped the alarm and killed it.
Unbelievably, Jon had slept through the alarm, and Sara was almost glad - she’d be able to shower and have some coffee to come to life before he woke and encountered - for the first time - grumpy Sara! As she sat up, the roses caught her attention, and her morning mood faded away instantly as she looked at them. Of course, the roses made her think of Jon, and she turned to look down at him, his face relaxed in slumber, one muscled arm sprawled onto her side of the bed. She leaned across to gently press a kiss to those soft lips, trying not to wake him, then she tore herself away, tiptoeing out of the room.
First stop was the kitchen, and she got the coffee brewing before she headed to the bathroom. The shower certainly helped, and she went back to the kitchen wearing her dragon robe, pouring her first mug of coffee, and savouring that first delicious mouthful. Feeling a whole lot better, she fixed coffee for Jon and padded along to the bedroom.
Jon had kicked the cover down, and he was lying on his front, and Sara licked her lips involuntarily as she gazed at his perfect ass. Giving in to impulse, Sara laid the two mugs of coffee on the bedside table and sat down on the bed. She stroked the tangled blond hair back from his face, revealing a sculptured cheekbone, then ran her hand slowly down his back. Sara hesitated a second at the pit of his back, letting her fingers rest on his skin, then she tenderly brushed her hand across his ass, the muscles - even in sleep - taut and hard under her touch. Her fingers continued their journey, down onto his thigh, until she couldn’t reach any further without changing her position on the bed. She reversed direction, trailing her fingers back up the slope of his buttock, dragging her nails against him and seeing the muscles bunching at the sensation. Jon gave a deep sigh, but Sara didn’t realise he’d actually woken until he spoke suddenly.
“You know - that could constitute sexual harassment - taking advantage of me while I’m asleep.”
Sara jumped when he spoke, but her hand remained firmly on his ass.
“Only if you said no.” She told him, getting caught unawares as Jon quickly rolled onto his back, so her hand now rested on his crotch as he grinned at her.
“I could never say no to you, Sara. Good morning.”
He puckered his lips in an exaggerated fashion, and Sara giggled as she leaned in to kiss him.
“Morning, Jon. I brought you some coffee.”
“Thanks, babe.”
He pushed himself up to sit against the headboard, pulling the cover to his waist and patting the piece of mattress next to him, inviting Sara to sit beside him. She picked up the coffees then planted herself next to Jon, handing over his mug. He took a sip.
“Jesus! That’s not coffee - it’s rocket fuel!” But his smile robbed the words of any offence, and he took another drink. “What time is it anyway?”
“After eight.” Sara said. “You slept through the alarm. I don’t know how - the damned thing scares the pants off me every morning!”
“Good job you weren’t wearing any, then.” He looked speculatively at her robe and wet hair. “Are you wearing any now? Panties, I mean?”
“I just got out of the shower. What do you think?”
Jon grinned, transferring his coffee mug to the other hand and touching her robe where it covered her belly.
“Let’s see.”
He slid his hand down over the black satin, pressing firmly enough to be able to feel if there was another layer of clothing underneath. Didn’t feel like it. The exploring hand moved down onto her thigh, sneaking back up under the hem of the robe to check more fully. Nothing. Not even one of those wisps of lace Sara seemed to favour, just the sweet nest of curls that he toyed with as he drank down the last of his coffee.
“So - what’s the verdict?” Sara asked, squirming only a little as his fingers teased a little lower.
“Oh, I think you’re guilty all right. Guilty of being sexy as hell, guilty of driving me crazy when I look at you.”
“And what’s the punishment for that?” Sara asked with a smile.
“I’ll think of something appropriate.” Jon muttered as he reached across her to lay down his mug, taking Sara’s out of her unprotesting grasp and setting is aside too.
On the return trip, Jon’s hand caught her shoulder, twisting her around to face him and licking his lips before touching his mouth to hers. The kiss deepened as Sara drew his tongue into her mouth, and Jon was just taking hold of the belt on her robe when another alarm sounded, this time on Sara’s cellphone.
“Shit!” She pulled away from Jon, reaching out to grab her phone and silence the alarm. “Shit!” She said again, slamming her head back against the wall with an impact that made Jon wince.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have to go to work.” She said, looking at him in a plea for understanding. “I mean, I need to leave right now.”
“You may want to get dressed first.” Jon said with a smile, but he could see in her eyes that she was serious - maybe not happy about it - but serious that she had to leave.
“Baby, it’s fine. I know your work’s important to you.” He reassured her.
“But so are you.”
Jon grinned at that. “And I’ll be here when you’re finished work.”
“What? Today?”
Thinking quickly, confirming he didn’t have much to do today, Jon nodded.
“How about this? You get ready and go to work. I’ll clean up and go do what I need to, then I’ll come back here. Hell, I’ll even cook dinner for you! How does that sound?”
“Sounds like heaven. Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Sara tilted her head as she looked at him. “You can cook?”
“Of course I can cook! I’m Italian, remember?!”
Laughing, Sara kissed him softly, then dragged herself off the bed. She ran to the closet, untying her robe on the way, which nearly undid her good intentions as Jon watched the satin flap open, giving final confirmation that it was all she wore. In minutes, she came back out of the closet, dressed in jeans and t shirt, and went straight to the dresser, tying her hair back in a knot. She opened a jewellery box and took out a key, then came back to the bed, kneeling on the side.
“I guess if you’re going to come back, you’ll need a key, huh?” She offered him the key, and Jon took it with a smile.
“Thanks, Sara. Now get going!”
“I know, I know!”
She pressed her lips to his briefly, then jumped off the bed again, grabbing her bag on the way out of the bedroom.
“See you later, baby.” She said, pausing in the doorway.
“Yeah, you will, love.”
Then she was gone.
Chapter 57
As they entered the restaurant, Linda felt suddenly nervous. She’d fantasised about Richie for so many years, she worried now that the man wouldn’t live up to the imaginary Richie she held in her mind. The other problem in her mind was that - despite what she’d always thought - she really wasn’t sure if she could let herself be a rock star’s one night stand. ‘For God’s sake’ she told herself sternly ‘let’s have dinner first, before you start worrying about whether you’re going to sleep with him!’. She relaxed a little more as she resolved to just let the night go naturally, and to wait and see what would happen.
They were led to a quiet table off to one side of the restaurant, and the waiter took their drinks order. Now Linda was regretting driving into the city, since it meant she couldn’t drink, but she wasn’t willing to pay for a cab each way, when she was perfectly capable of driving. On the other hand, if she was sober, she was less likely to do something she may regret, though the expanse of bare, smooth chest across the table from her made her wonder if she would regret it.
Once their order had been taken, Richie and Linda chatted about inconsequential things, sizing each other up a little more, then turning the conversation to more personal matters. Richie asked Linda about her job, and she explained a little about the duties and responsibilities involved. As she finished, she asked jokingly.
“And what do you do for a living?”
Richie grinned - he knew she was a fan, but she was a completely different proposition from someone like Kay - at least Linda was able to talk to him normally, about normal things, and she had a quirky sense of humour that he liked.
“I’m a florist.” He told her, making her laugh, and she was still chuckling when their food arrived.
While they ate, still talking about everything and anything that came to mind, Linda came to a gradual realisation. Now that she was getting to know a bit more about Richie, she was seeing him as a real person, and she felt sure that her worry over whether or not to sleep with him was unfounded. She still found him extremely attractive, absolutely no question about that, but she didn’t want to rush into anything - she’d discovered that she liked him an awful lot, and she was happy - if he wanted to - to wait for another night. The pleasure of just spending time with him was enough right now.
Linda would have been amazed if she could read Richie’s mind, because his thoughts mirrored hers almost exactly. He didn’t want this woman to think he was just after a quick fling, or a one night stand, because he liked and respected her too much already.
Neither of them was quite ready to broach the subject just yet, though, and the conversation remained light throughout dinner. They both declined dessert, and when the waiter suggested coffee, Richie raised an enquiring eyebrow at Linda.
“We could get some coffee sent upstairs.” He said, and she nodded, not ready for the night to end just yet.
They left the restaurant, crossing the foyer to the elevator and riding up to the suite. Both feeling a little uncomfortable, because of their earlier thoughts, they stood on opposite sides of the lift car, then Richie reached across to take Linda’s hand in a comforting grip, giving her that wide, genuine smile. When the lift reached their floor, he gently tugged her out into the corridor with him.
When he stopped at the suite door, fumbling in his pocket for the key, Richie glanced down at her standing beside him, watching him, and he couldn’t stop himself. Slowly, half expecting her to back away, he bent his head to kiss her, not touching her with anything but his lips. Linda accepted the kiss, then Richie felt her tongue press lightly against his lips, and he opened his mouth, letting his own tongue slide over hers.
The kiss was slow and deliberate, and Linda got confirmation of what she’d always suspected - any man who could use a talkbox so skilfully just had to be a great kisser. She raised one hand into his hair, feeling the tightly braided strands where those crazy hair ornaments hung, and she felt Richie’s hand sliding around onto her back just as they became aware of another presence.
Breaking apart like teenagers caught by their parents, they turned to see the room service waiter with their coffee, standing with his eyes politely averted. A laugh exploded out of Richie’s throat as he opened the door and ushered Linda inside, leaving the waiter to follow them down to the sitting room.
After the waiter set out the coffee and left the suite, Richie looked at Linda with a grin.
“I’m sorry, girl. I didn’t mean to do that - just couldn’t help myself.”
“Me neither. And I could’ve said no, so I guess we’re both to blame.”
They sat together on the couch, Linda leaning forward to pour coffee and hand a cup to Richie.
“The thing is,” he said, spooning sugar into his cup, “and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I really didn’t mean for that to happen. I mean, I wanted to, but I don’t want to rush this. I’ll be going back out to California at the end of the week, and I don’t want you to think…….well, I don’t want - or need - a one night stand.”
“I actually thought something like that earlier.” Linda said with a smile. “Except, obviously, I’m not flying to California any time soon.”
Richie tilted his head. “Why not? I mean, why don’t you - fly out in a couple of weeks?”
“Well, first, I’ve got to work, and second, I can’t afford it, Richie. I work in a hospital, remember?”
“Okay, then, first, we could make it a weekend, so you won’t miss any work, and second, I’ll pay for your flights. What d’you think?”
Linda stared into her coffee, thinking hard but coming up with no answers.
“Can I think about it?” She finally asked, and Richie smiled - at least it wasn’t a ‘no’.
“Sure. I could call you tomorrow, see if you’ve made up your mind?”
“Would you mind leaving it later in the week? I need to try to offload some of my work if I’m going to take a weekend off. Unfortunately, lately, I don’t take many weekends off, so it takes a little forward planning.”
“I’d rather not leave it, but I will, if that’s what you want.”
“Thank you.”
Once the coffee was gone, Linda looked at her watch, startled to see how late it was.
“I have to go. I need to be at work in, let me see, six hours? And it’ll take me an hour to get home. Thanks for a wonderful night, Richie.”
“No, thank you Linda. I’ve had more fun tonight than I have in a long time. Come give me another kiss.”
She scooted across the couch willingly, and they fell into another long, passionate kiss, and it was Linda who pulled away first.
“Wow. On that note, I really do need to go, Richie, otherwise I won’t be able to make myself leave.”
With a smile, he released her from his embrace, standing and pulling her to her feet.
“If you insist.” But there was a teasing note in his voice, and they both recognised that this wasn’t something they’d be able to get out of their systems with a quick roll in the hay. “Come on - I’ll walk you to your car.”
They took the elevator back down to the foyer and headed outside. Linda led the way toward her car, both of them stopping in their tracks as Richie’s name was called loudly. Turning around, Linda heard Richie give the faintest of groans as they saw a group of girls approaching, all dressed up to the nines and brandishing pens, CDs and cameras.
The girls were all slightly drunk, just at the stage where their confidence was brimming, making them bold, and Linda caught a resigned look in Richie’s eyes before he turned on the grin and stepped toward them. He started signing autographs, and Linda looked at her watch again, then took a pace forward to gently touch Richie’s shoulder.
“Richie - I gotta go or I’ll never make it to work.”
“Damn, I’m sorry. I’ll walk you down….”
“No. Stay. My car’s just down there. Call me?”
“You know I will.”
He gave her the smile again - not the flashing one he’d used approaching the girls, but a slightly softer, more intimate grin for her alone. Linda returned the smile then walked away, leaving him to his fans. His other fans. The ones who hadn’t just shared a beautiful evening with him.
They were led to a quiet table off to one side of the restaurant, and the waiter took their drinks order. Now Linda was regretting driving into the city, since it meant she couldn’t drink, but she wasn’t willing to pay for a cab each way, when she was perfectly capable of driving. On the other hand, if she was sober, she was less likely to do something she may regret, though the expanse of bare, smooth chest across the table from her made her wonder if she would regret it.
Once their order had been taken, Richie and Linda chatted about inconsequential things, sizing each other up a little more, then turning the conversation to more personal matters. Richie asked Linda about her job, and she explained a little about the duties and responsibilities involved. As she finished, she asked jokingly.
“And what do you do for a living?”
Richie grinned - he knew she was a fan, but she was a completely different proposition from someone like Kay - at least Linda was able to talk to him normally, about normal things, and she had a quirky sense of humour that he liked.
“I’m a florist.” He told her, making her laugh, and she was still chuckling when their food arrived.
While they ate, still talking about everything and anything that came to mind, Linda came to a gradual realisation. Now that she was getting to know a bit more about Richie, she was seeing him as a real person, and she felt sure that her worry over whether or not to sleep with him was unfounded. She still found him extremely attractive, absolutely no question about that, but she didn’t want to rush into anything - she’d discovered that she liked him an awful lot, and she was happy - if he wanted to - to wait for another night. The pleasure of just spending time with him was enough right now.
Linda would have been amazed if she could read Richie’s mind, because his thoughts mirrored hers almost exactly. He didn’t want this woman to think he was just after a quick fling, or a one night stand, because he liked and respected her too much already.
Neither of them was quite ready to broach the subject just yet, though, and the conversation remained light throughout dinner. They both declined dessert, and when the waiter suggested coffee, Richie raised an enquiring eyebrow at Linda.
“We could get some coffee sent upstairs.” He said, and she nodded, not ready for the night to end just yet.
They left the restaurant, crossing the foyer to the elevator and riding up to the suite. Both feeling a little uncomfortable, because of their earlier thoughts, they stood on opposite sides of the lift car, then Richie reached across to take Linda’s hand in a comforting grip, giving her that wide, genuine smile. When the lift reached their floor, he gently tugged her out into the corridor with him.
When he stopped at the suite door, fumbling in his pocket for the key, Richie glanced down at her standing beside him, watching him, and he couldn’t stop himself. Slowly, half expecting her to back away, he bent his head to kiss her, not touching her with anything but his lips. Linda accepted the kiss, then Richie felt her tongue press lightly against his lips, and he opened his mouth, letting his own tongue slide over hers.
The kiss was slow and deliberate, and Linda got confirmation of what she’d always suspected - any man who could use a talkbox so skilfully just had to be a great kisser. She raised one hand into his hair, feeling the tightly braided strands where those crazy hair ornaments hung, and she felt Richie’s hand sliding around onto her back just as they became aware of another presence.
Breaking apart like teenagers caught by their parents, they turned to see the room service waiter with their coffee, standing with his eyes politely averted. A laugh exploded out of Richie’s throat as he opened the door and ushered Linda inside, leaving the waiter to follow them down to the sitting room.
After the waiter set out the coffee and left the suite, Richie looked at Linda with a grin.
“I’m sorry, girl. I didn’t mean to do that - just couldn’t help myself.”
“Me neither. And I could’ve said no, so I guess we’re both to blame.”
They sat together on the couch, Linda leaning forward to pour coffee and hand a cup to Richie.
“The thing is,” he said, spooning sugar into his cup, “and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I really didn’t mean for that to happen. I mean, I wanted to, but I don’t want to rush this. I’ll be going back out to California at the end of the week, and I don’t want you to think…….well, I don’t want - or need - a one night stand.”
“I actually thought something like that earlier.” Linda said with a smile. “Except, obviously, I’m not flying to California any time soon.”
Richie tilted his head. “Why not? I mean, why don’t you - fly out in a couple of weeks?”
“Well, first, I’ve got to work, and second, I can’t afford it, Richie. I work in a hospital, remember?”
“Okay, then, first, we could make it a weekend, so you won’t miss any work, and second, I’ll pay for your flights. What d’you think?”
Linda stared into her coffee, thinking hard but coming up with no answers.
“Can I think about it?” She finally asked, and Richie smiled - at least it wasn’t a ‘no’.
“Sure. I could call you tomorrow, see if you’ve made up your mind?”
“Would you mind leaving it later in the week? I need to try to offload some of my work if I’m going to take a weekend off. Unfortunately, lately, I don’t take many weekends off, so it takes a little forward planning.”
“I’d rather not leave it, but I will, if that’s what you want.”
“Thank you.”
Once the coffee was gone, Linda looked at her watch, startled to see how late it was.
“I have to go. I need to be at work in, let me see, six hours? And it’ll take me an hour to get home. Thanks for a wonderful night, Richie.”
“No, thank you Linda. I’ve had more fun tonight than I have in a long time. Come give me another kiss.”
She scooted across the couch willingly, and they fell into another long, passionate kiss, and it was Linda who pulled away first.
“Wow. On that note, I really do need to go, Richie, otherwise I won’t be able to make myself leave.”
With a smile, he released her from his embrace, standing and pulling her to her feet.
“If you insist.” But there was a teasing note in his voice, and they both recognised that this wasn’t something they’d be able to get out of their systems with a quick roll in the hay. “Come on - I’ll walk you to your car.”
They took the elevator back down to the foyer and headed outside. Linda led the way toward her car, both of them stopping in their tracks as Richie’s name was called loudly. Turning around, Linda heard Richie give the faintest of groans as they saw a group of girls approaching, all dressed up to the nines and brandishing pens, CDs and cameras.
The girls were all slightly drunk, just at the stage where their confidence was brimming, making them bold, and Linda caught a resigned look in Richie’s eyes before he turned on the grin and stepped toward them. He started signing autographs, and Linda looked at her watch again, then took a pace forward to gently touch Richie’s shoulder.
“Richie - I gotta go or I’ll never make it to work.”
“Damn, I’m sorry. I’ll walk you down….”
“No. Stay. My car’s just down there. Call me?”
“You know I will.”
He gave her the smile again - not the flashing one he’d used approaching the girls, but a slightly softer, more intimate grin for her alone. Linda returned the smile then walked away, leaving him to his fans. His other fans. The ones who hadn’t just shared a beautiful evening with him.
Chapter 56
The doorman obviously wasn’t into the Wall Street Journal, but preferred less highbrow publications, and the gossip rag he was reading was turned to the ‘seen and heard’ section, showing a full colour picture of Jon, Sara and Richie, taken the previous night, with a blazing headline which read ‘Is this Bon Jovi’s Dirty Little Secret?’. The photo had been taken from a low angle, making Sara’s dress look damn near indecent, although Jon actually thought it was a pretty hot photo. There was a sub-heading, which they couldn’t quite read at this angle, and Jon gripped Sara’s hand tightly as they walked toward the doorman.
Now Jon could see the other words on the page, and he angled his shoulders, keeping Sara on the far side from the desk to prevent her reading any more. What he managed to read as they passed angered him enough - ‘Looks like the two leading men of rock band Bon Jovi share more than a passion for music. Seen here, Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora, arriving at Matthew McConaughey’s party with their joint date for the night.’ - there was more, but he wasn’t interested. He’d been the subject of enough of these stories that he was hardened to it, but Sara was a different matter.
“Goodbye.” The doorman called, and Jon didn’t even turn as he replied, his sarcasm lost on the guy.
“Yeah. Have a nice day!”
They stepped out into the sunlight, climbing into the Chevelle and driving away quickly. Sara was quiet, and Jon looked over.
“You okay, baby?”
“I guess so. Just a bit surprised to see myself in print, that’s all. Anyway,” she turned in the seat to poke Jon’s leg, “You said they’d be looking at you two, not me.”
“Actually, babe, I think you said that. Hell, in that dress, I’m surprised Richie and I made it into the picture at all. Ignoring the headline, you looked amazing, sweetheart.”
“Well, thank you, kind sir.”
Traffic had thinned as they edged out of the city, and the wind was whipping through the Chevelle, tearing strands of Sara’s hair loose until she gave up and pulled the velvet scrunchie out, letting her hair whip in the breeze.
“Did I mention that I love this car?” She asked dreamily, her head resting back in the seat.
“I think you did. I’m glad, because I love her, too. So - studio or home?”
Sara felt lethargic, and really couldn’t face the studio today. Since she was the boss, she decided to declare today a work-free day.
“Home. I’ll work tomorrow.”
“Home it is.” Jon said, pleased that he’d guessed right when he made his phone call earlier.
Jon made a turn, heading for Sara’s home, and impressing the hell out of her - no way Sara could’ve so easily worked out which way to go home from the city. They drove on, and Sara finally started to see places she recognised as they got closer to her home. She was surprised when Jon pulled in at the kerb on a quiet street, putting the car in park and unclipping his seat belt.
“Where are you going?” She asked as he got out of the car and walked around to her door.
“I’m getting in here.” He told her, opening the door with a broad smile. “Slide over. You can drive the rest of the way.”
“Really? I can drive her?”
“Yeah. Budge over and let me in.”
Sara quickly took off her seat belt and manoeuvred herself over into the driver’s seat, adjusting the position slightly as Jon got in beside her. Checking there was no other traffic, Sara shifted into drive and pulled cautiously out, trying to get a feel for the old muscle car. Jon kept quiet, letting her get accustomed to the different style of driving - no power steering, a monstrously powerful engine and a car which was at least half as long again as what she normally drove. She quickly got the knack of the best way to drive the big car, using the engine’s power to bring the Chevelle around corners smoothly, and feeling the torque through the steering wheel, letting it dictate the pressure she applied to the gas pedal. Jon saw her relax more, enjoying the experience, and she was confident enough now to take her eyes momentarily off the road to flash him a smile.
Too soon for Sara, they reached her street, and she parked the Chevelle neatly outside, braking to a halt and switching off the engine.
“Jon, thank you so much! She’s an amazing car. Thank you for letting me drive her.”
“You’re very welcome, baby. Let’s go inside, and you can thank me some more.”
They got out of the car, Sara running her fingers lingeringly along the blue paint as she walked to the back to get her bag from the trunk. She lifted the bag out, but Jon took it out of her hand, carrying it up to the house for her as Sara went ahead of him so she could unlock the door. Pushing the door open, Sara kicked a small pile of mail out of the way, letting Jon into the house, then she scooped up the mail as she closed the door, dropping the pile carelessly on the hall table.
Jon laid her bag on the couch and went through into the kitchen, sneaking a look out the window and grinning to himself in satisfaction. He heard Sara behind him, and turned to open the fridge.
“Still no beer, I see.” He said, looking inside.
“You’re driving anyway. No drinking and…..” she glanced out of the window, “….what the…..?”
Sara unlocked the back door and stepped outside, Jon close behind her. Just outside the window stood an array of enormous vases, each one crammed with roses, no two vases holding the same colour. Jon slid his arms around her waist from behind as she stared.
“You said nobody’d given you a rose before.”
“Nobody’s given me flowers before. Oh my God, Jon, they’re gorgeous. Thank you.” There was a quaver in her voice, and Jon felt the hot splash of a tear on his arm.
“Hey, hey, come on - it was supposed to make you happy.”
She twisted her head to look at him. “It does. You do. Thank you, Jon.”
Sara tilted her face to him, and Jon willingly took the invitation of her parted lips, dropping a soft kiss onto her lower lip, then brushing his lips across her upper lip, before settling his mouth onto hers. Their tongues caressed tenderly, without the urgency of some of their kisses, not goading each other into arousal, but each leisurely enjoying the other. When they finally drew apart, they were both smiling, and Jon laid his cheek against Sara’s as she looked out at the roses again, hugging her tightly. She brought one hand up to the side of his face, the other stroking against the soft hair on his forearm where it wrapped across her, both of them content to stand there, gazing at the display of vibrant colours.
After a while - neither of them was sure how long - Sara moved in Jon’s arms, breaking the spell.
“Jon, where am I going to put all those roses?” She asked, but it was a rhetorical question, and Jon just kissed her cheek as he released her.
“Will we bring them inside?” He suggested.
“Yeah - at least they’re in vases, so I don’t need to try to find any.”
Between them, they carried the vases inside, making various trips until the flowers were distributed around the house. The bedroom got two vases - one of blood red roses, one of yellow, and the sitting room got the pale pink and the white along with an interesting apricot colour. The deep pink went into the hall, with the final vase, filled with strange pale blue roses, went into the kitchen, taking pride of place on the table.
“D’you want coffee or something?” She asked, toying with a rose petal as they stood in the kitchen.
“I’ll take a coke if you’ve got it.”
“Oh, you can pretty much guarantee there’s always diet coke in my fridge. Coke, coffee and chocolate - three staples here.”
She opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of cans, handing one to Jon. He popped the top open as they walked through to the sitting room, getting comfy on the couch - once Sara had tossed her bag onto the floor. They sat at opposite ends, Sara kicking off her shoes to put her feet on Jon’s lap, and he gently rubbed her feet as they sat, caressing her skin absently as though he was stroking a favourite pet. Sara picked up a remote and switched on the stereo, starting a CD playing low, and Jon grinned as he heard Bob Dylan’s nasal twang.
Back at the hotel, Richie had spent a lazy day, playing around with the song he and Jon had written, and working up one or two more as inspiration hit. Around seven pm, he became aware of the time, and laid the guitar aside to go shower for his date. By seven thirty, he was dressed in faded jeans and his favourite black shirt - only half buttoned as usual - and ready to go. To kill some time, he poured himself a juice and sat back down to drink.
Linda had ended up leaving work on time but, considering the amount of overtime she did, that still meant she felt like she’d left early. The whole drive home, she tried to figure out what to wear, but she couldn’t make up her mind, and arrived home still undecided. After she’d showered and dried her hair, she had a look in the closet, finally settling on black trousers with high-heeled boots and a shimmering red top that went nicely with her blonde hair. Smart, sexy in an understated way, and not screaming “I’m a fan! I’m a fan!”. Perfect. A light touch of makeup and she was ready, heading out to the car just after seven for the drive into the city.
Traffic was a bitch, even at that time, and she pulled into a parking space just before eight, relieved that she’d managed to find a spot near the hotel. Locking the car, she quickly checked her hair in the reflection in the car window then walked along to the hotel door.
Richie had come down from the suite at quarter to eight, getting himself a drink from the bar and taking it out into the foyer to wait for Linda. As his watch ticked around toward eight, he started to worry that she wasn’t coming, then the door swung open and he saw her. He got to his feet with a wide grin and walked toward her, taking her hand and kissing her on the cheek.
“Hi Linda. I was starting to think you’d stood me up!”
Linda bit down hard on the answer that rose to her lips, just smiling sweetly.
“Of course not. You been waiting long?”
“Naw. I’m starving though - let’s go through to the restaurant.”
He had kept hold of her hand, and he now tucked it into the crook of his elbow to lead her to the restaurant.
Now Jon could see the other words on the page, and he angled his shoulders, keeping Sara on the far side from the desk to prevent her reading any more. What he managed to read as they passed angered him enough - ‘Looks like the two leading men of rock band Bon Jovi share more than a passion for music. Seen here, Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora, arriving at Matthew McConaughey’s party with their joint date for the night.’ - there was more, but he wasn’t interested. He’d been the subject of enough of these stories that he was hardened to it, but Sara was a different matter.
“Goodbye.” The doorman called, and Jon didn’t even turn as he replied, his sarcasm lost on the guy.
“Yeah. Have a nice day!”
They stepped out into the sunlight, climbing into the Chevelle and driving away quickly. Sara was quiet, and Jon looked over.
“You okay, baby?”
“I guess so. Just a bit surprised to see myself in print, that’s all. Anyway,” she turned in the seat to poke Jon’s leg, “You said they’d be looking at you two, not me.”
“Actually, babe, I think you said that. Hell, in that dress, I’m surprised Richie and I made it into the picture at all. Ignoring the headline, you looked amazing, sweetheart.”
“Well, thank you, kind sir.”
Traffic had thinned as they edged out of the city, and the wind was whipping through the Chevelle, tearing strands of Sara’s hair loose until she gave up and pulled the velvet scrunchie out, letting her hair whip in the breeze.
“Did I mention that I love this car?” She asked dreamily, her head resting back in the seat.
“I think you did. I’m glad, because I love her, too. So - studio or home?”
Sara felt lethargic, and really couldn’t face the studio today. Since she was the boss, she decided to declare today a work-free day.
“Home. I’ll work tomorrow.”
“Home it is.” Jon said, pleased that he’d guessed right when he made his phone call earlier.
Jon made a turn, heading for Sara’s home, and impressing the hell out of her - no way Sara could’ve so easily worked out which way to go home from the city. They drove on, and Sara finally started to see places she recognised as they got closer to her home. She was surprised when Jon pulled in at the kerb on a quiet street, putting the car in park and unclipping his seat belt.
“Where are you going?” She asked as he got out of the car and walked around to her door.
“I’m getting in here.” He told her, opening the door with a broad smile. “Slide over. You can drive the rest of the way.”
“Really? I can drive her?”
“Yeah. Budge over and let me in.”
Sara quickly took off her seat belt and manoeuvred herself over into the driver’s seat, adjusting the position slightly as Jon got in beside her. Checking there was no other traffic, Sara shifted into drive and pulled cautiously out, trying to get a feel for the old muscle car. Jon kept quiet, letting her get accustomed to the different style of driving - no power steering, a monstrously powerful engine and a car which was at least half as long again as what she normally drove. She quickly got the knack of the best way to drive the big car, using the engine’s power to bring the Chevelle around corners smoothly, and feeling the torque through the steering wheel, letting it dictate the pressure she applied to the gas pedal. Jon saw her relax more, enjoying the experience, and she was confident enough now to take her eyes momentarily off the road to flash him a smile.
Too soon for Sara, they reached her street, and she parked the Chevelle neatly outside, braking to a halt and switching off the engine.
“Jon, thank you so much! She’s an amazing car. Thank you for letting me drive her.”
“You’re very welcome, baby. Let’s go inside, and you can thank me some more.”
They got out of the car, Sara running her fingers lingeringly along the blue paint as she walked to the back to get her bag from the trunk. She lifted the bag out, but Jon took it out of her hand, carrying it up to the house for her as Sara went ahead of him so she could unlock the door. Pushing the door open, Sara kicked a small pile of mail out of the way, letting Jon into the house, then she scooped up the mail as she closed the door, dropping the pile carelessly on the hall table.
Jon laid her bag on the couch and went through into the kitchen, sneaking a look out the window and grinning to himself in satisfaction. He heard Sara behind him, and turned to open the fridge.
“Still no beer, I see.” He said, looking inside.
“You’re driving anyway. No drinking and…..” she glanced out of the window, “….what the…..?”
Sara unlocked the back door and stepped outside, Jon close behind her. Just outside the window stood an array of enormous vases, each one crammed with roses, no two vases holding the same colour. Jon slid his arms around her waist from behind as she stared.
“You said nobody’d given you a rose before.”
“Nobody’s given me flowers before. Oh my God, Jon, they’re gorgeous. Thank you.” There was a quaver in her voice, and Jon felt the hot splash of a tear on his arm.
“Hey, hey, come on - it was supposed to make you happy.”
She twisted her head to look at him. “It does. You do. Thank you, Jon.”
Sara tilted her face to him, and Jon willingly took the invitation of her parted lips, dropping a soft kiss onto her lower lip, then brushing his lips across her upper lip, before settling his mouth onto hers. Their tongues caressed tenderly, without the urgency of some of their kisses, not goading each other into arousal, but each leisurely enjoying the other. When they finally drew apart, they were both smiling, and Jon laid his cheek against Sara’s as she looked out at the roses again, hugging her tightly. She brought one hand up to the side of his face, the other stroking against the soft hair on his forearm where it wrapped across her, both of them content to stand there, gazing at the display of vibrant colours.
After a while - neither of them was sure how long - Sara moved in Jon’s arms, breaking the spell.
“Jon, where am I going to put all those roses?” She asked, but it was a rhetorical question, and Jon just kissed her cheek as he released her.
“Will we bring them inside?” He suggested.
“Yeah - at least they’re in vases, so I don’t need to try to find any.”
Between them, they carried the vases inside, making various trips until the flowers were distributed around the house. The bedroom got two vases - one of blood red roses, one of yellow, and the sitting room got the pale pink and the white along with an interesting apricot colour. The deep pink went into the hall, with the final vase, filled with strange pale blue roses, went into the kitchen, taking pride of place on the table.
“D’you want coffee or something?” She asked, toying with a rose petal as they stood in the kitchen.
“I’ll take a coke if you’ve got it.”
“Oh, you can pretty much guarantee there’s always diet coke in my fridge. Coke, coffee and chocolate - three staples here.”
She opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of cans, handing one to Jon. He popped the top open as they walked through to the sitting room, getting comfy on the couch - once Sara had tossed her bag onto the floor. They sat at opposite ends, Sara kicking off her shoes to put her feet on Jon’s lap, and he gently rubbed her feet as they sat, caressing her skin absently as though he was stroking a favourite pet. Sara picked up a remote and switched on the stereo, starting a CD playing low, and Jon grinned as he heard Bob Dylan’s nasal twang.
Back at the hotel, Richie had spent a lazy day, playing around with the song he and Jon had written, and working up one or two more as inspiration hit. Around seven pm, he became aware of the time, and laid the guitar aside to go shower for his date. By seven thirty, he was dressed in faded jeans and his favourite black shirt - only half buttoned as usual - and ready to go. To kill some time, he poured himself a juice and sat back down to drink.
Linda had ended up leaving work on time but, considering the amount of overtime she did, that still meant she felt like she’d left early. The whole drive home, she tried to figure out what to wear, but she couldn’t make up her mind, and arrived home still undecided. After she’d showered and dried her hair, she had a look in the closet, finally settling on black trousers with high-heeled boots and a shimmering red top that went nicely with her blonde hair. Smart, sexy in an understated way, and not screaming “I’m a fan! I’m a fan!”. Perfect. A light touch of makeup and she was ready, heading out to the car just after seven for the drive into the city.
Traffic was a bitch, even at that time, and she pulled into a parking space just before eight, relieved that she’d managed to find a spot near the hotel. Locking the car, she quickly checked her hair in the reflection in the car window then walked along to the hotel door.
Richie had come down from the suite at quarter to eight, getting himself a drink from the bar and taking it out into the foyer to wait for Linda. As his watch ticked around toward eight, he started to worry that she wasn’t coming, then the door swung open and he saw her. He got to his feet with a wide grin and walked toward her, taking her hand and kissing her on the cheek.
“Hi Linda. I was starting to think you’d stood me up!”
Linda bit down hard on the answer that rose to her lips, just smiling sweetly.
“Of course not. You been waiting long?”
“Naw. I’m starving though - let’s go through to the restaurant.”
He had kept hold of her hand, and he now tucked it into the crook of his elbow to lead her to the restaurant.
Chapter 55
Laughing, Sara went with him, back out of the living room and into the hallway, trying the first door they came to. Bathroom. Next door on the same side was a good-sized bedroom with it’s own bathroom and walk-in closet. Nice but not spectacular. Last door, then, opened to reveal what was obviously the master bedroom, and this time it was spectacular.
Floor to ceiling windows opened onto a pretty balcony, and the massive room was big enough for half a dozen beds, let alone the one piece of furniture in the place - an ornate four poster bed, currently without mattress. There was a classic marble fireplace, flanked by a pair of wide doors. They each headed for a different door, Jon opening one to find a walk-in closet, while Sara found the biggest bathroom she’d ever seen in a house. There was another door from the bathroom and, opening it, Sara found herself in a dressing room, another door at the far end. That door opened, and Jon came in, walking through from the closet.
“Jesus, Jon - you could put half my house into that bedroom.” Sara said. “Actually, you could put half my house into that bed!”
“I’d rather just put you in that bed.” He stepped closer, but Sara backed away with a smile.
“You’ve got a one-track mind, Jon.”
“I know, and it’s all about you. So, do you think I should take it?”
“Jon, you can’t ask me that! It’s up to you - if you like it, then take it.”
“But what I mean is, would you be comfortable here? Spending time here with me? I don’t want to take it if you don’t like it.”
He looked almost vulnerable, and Sara’s heart went out to him as she reached out and took his hand.
“Jon, I’d be happy spending time with you anywhere. I don’t care where. My place, your place, a hotel, a trailer, I don’t mind, so long as you’re there with me.”
Jon grinned at her, pulling on her hand and bringing her into his arms. “That settles it, then. I’ll take it, although I don’t know how long I’ll be happy not living in Jersey. This is temporary, anyway.”
Sara smiled up at him, and Jon pushed his hips forward, grinding gently against her.
“Soooo……I think we should christen the apartment, don’t you?”
“Jon! It’s not yours yet!”
Still holding her close, he reached back and took his cellphone out of his pocket, dialling his office.
“Sue? Yeah, it’s me. What? Oh, I’ll go through all that stuff later. Listen - I’m at the apartment now, and I’ll take it. Can you sort out the paperwork for me?”
Sara heard faint squawking from the phone, then Jon continued.
“Tell them I’ll just keep this key - start the lease from yesterday. Great. Thanks, Sue. Bye.”
He clicked the phone off and looked down at Sara with that twisted grin.
“Now it’s mine.”
“And so am I.” She replied honestly, and his eyes glowed at the implication of that sentence.
“But there still isn’t a bed, well there’s a bed, but no mattress.” Sara pointed out as Jon bent his head to kiss her ear.
He ran his teeth around the edge of her ear until he reached the lobe, sucking it into his mouth for a moment before moving on down her neck. Sara moaned, the sound torn from her throat as he licked at the base of her throat, knowing what it did to her, his hand under the back of her t shirt. She took a handful of his hair to pull him away, fastening her lips hungrily onto his and revelling in the feeling of his tongue in her mouth.
Sara shifted her feet, moving one thigh forward between Jon’s, rubbing gently against his hardening crotch as they kissed. Jon backed her slowly out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, Sara’s fingers busy on his belt. He lifted his head, her taste still in his mouth as he spoke.
“Still want a bed?”
Sara gave a breathless laugh, crinkling her nose. “Only if you do.”
The hands unbuttoning her jeans answered that question, and Sara shuffled out of her shoes, her jeans falling around her ankles just as she unzipped Jon, wriggling his jeans down over his hips. Jon grabbed her waist, lifting her out of her jeans as Sara hooked her legs around him, easing herself onto the rigid shaft he was offering her. He dropped onto his knees, the jolt driving him deeper and making Sara gasp, then he put one hand on the floor to control the movement as he leaned forward, laying Sara on her back on the wooden floor.
Sara kissed him again before laying her head down, but found that the hair knotted behind her head made it uncomfortable. She lifted her head again, reaching back to pull off the band, but Jon got there first, tugging her hair loose so it spread out on the floor. As Jon thrust down into her, taking it slow, Sara felt the hard floor bruising her back, but she ignored the minor pain, putting her hands under Jon’s shirt and shoving it up and over his head, throwing his hair into disarray. She dropped the shirt on the floor as Jon grinned down at her, pushing her t shirt up past her breasts and lowering his face between them. He couldn’t get to the fastening of her bra, so Jon pulled at the soft cups until he had her breasts bared, holding the fabric out of the way as he kissed the smooth skin.
His mouth burned across Sara’s skin, leaving behind a cool trail of saliva where he’d licked against her, then Jon came back to her mouth, not kissing her yet, but running the very tip of his tongue around the edge of her lips, outlining her mouth. Sara smiled at him, sucking her lower lip into her mouth to taste him.
“Kiss me, rock star.” She breathed, and Jon complied instantly, with a passion that took her breath away.
His right hand was on her breast, squeezing her nipple with a deft touch that kept the contact just on the right side of pain, making Sara groan, then she groaned again as he drove into her, the hard floor more painful now her shirt was rucked up. Jon heard the different sound in her voice, and he pulled back from her mouth.
“Baby?”
“It’s fine.” She muttered, beyond caring about the pain for the moment, and she dragged his mouth back onto hers.
Jon’s movements quickened now, and he dropped his hips slightly lower, changing the angle to make sure Sara kept pace with him as they both drove toward orgasm. Sara could feel him moving inside her, gliding back and forth, and she deliberately tightened every muscle she could, increasing the resistance until she heard Jon groaning at the sensation, knowing he could hardly restrain himself. The knowledge of what she’d done to him, and how much he wanted her, coupled with the feeling of him deep inside her tipped Sara over the edge a split second before Jon, and they writhed together on the floor as they came.
As the final tremors shook through them, Jon collapsed on top of Sara as though he’d been shot, breathing heavily as he tried to gather the strength to roll off her. Sara was panting, too, and Jon could feel the residual contractions of her orgasm pulsating around his cock, still buried to the hilt in her hot flesh.
Finally, he found the energy to move, and he pulled himself out of Sara before stretching out beside her, lying on his back on the floor. Sara just turned onto her side - anything to get her abused back off the floor - and laid her head on his shoulder, just above the faded Superman tattoo.
“I guess we’ve christened the apartment then, huh?” She said with a smile, and Jon rolled his head to look at her.
“We’ve christened one room, anyway. How many more are there?”
Sara giggled weakly as she answered. “Too many for today.”
“You’re probably right. We should make a list……..so we don’t miss any rooms……” He suggested.
“Does that mean only once in each room, though?”
“Hell, no.” Jon levered himself into a sitting position, pulling Sara with him.
She laughed as she caught sight of them in a wall mirror. Jon sitting shirtless, his jeans around his thighs, and she had a t shirt pulled up almost to her neck, and that was all she wore.
“Maybe we should make ourselves presentable, just in case the realtor decides to come visit.” She nodded at the reflected image, and Jon grinned.
“They’d just think you couldn’t control yourself, babe……yow!”
As he spoke, Sara smacked his arm, one of those slaps with the back of the fingers that didn’t leave a mark, but stung like a hornet. Laughing, he rose to his feet and pulled his jeans back up then stooped to pick up his shirt. Sara got her bra back into place and pulled her shirt down before standing to get her own jeans, and as she bent, Jon could see the slick sheen of moisture on her inner thighs, making him want her all over again.
Dressed again, Sara twisted her hair back again and tied it in place, then turned to Jon, who was studying the huge bed with interest.
“It’s beautiful.” She said, running one hand over the finely carved footboard, then sliding her fingers up one of the posts.
Jon watched her, a smile on his lips as she caressed the smooth timber.
“Baby, if you don’t stop that, those jeans are coming off again.”
Sara giggled as she dropped her hand. “And here I was, thinking you’d like a bit of pole dancing.”
That was an image Jon really didn’t need put into his head right now, with what was already buzzing around in there, and he gave a crooked grin.
“Honestly? Sounds like a great idea. I was more thinking of tying you to that bed, though.”
He watched her closely as he said it, gauging her response, and was astounded to see her pupils dilate at the suggestion and, though her cheeks flushed, she didn’t reject the idea. Who’d have thought it?
“Not right now.” Was all she said, smiling back at him, and Jon filed away the idea - and the mental image - for later as he took her hand.
“Let’s get out of here. You said you’ve got work to do, right?”
“Mm-hm. And the doorman will be wondering what’s taking so long!”
They left the apartment - Jon’s apartment - and took the lift back down to the foyer, stepping out hand in hand. The doorman was reading his newspaper again, and when he laid it down to stand up politely, although with a less-than-polite smirk on his face, Sara’s fingernails dug painfully into Jon’s palm. He looked at her, then saw the direction of her eyes and looked at the newspaper.
Floor to ceiling windows opened onto a pretty balcony, and the massive room was big enough for half a dozen beds, let alone the one piece of furniture in the place - an ornate four poster bed, currently without mattress. There was a classic marble fireplace, flanked by a pair of wide doors. They each headed for a different door, Jon opening one to find a walk-in closet, while Sara found the biggest bathroom she’d ever seen in a house. There was another door from the bathroom and, opening it, Sara found herself in a dressing room, another door at the far end. That door opened, and Jon came in, walking through from the closet.
“Jesus, Jon - you could put half my house into that bedroom.” Sara said. “Actually, you could put half my house into that bed!”
“I’d rather just put you in that bed.” He stepped closer, but Sara backed away with a smile.
“You’ve got a one-track mind, Jon.”
“I know, and it’s all about you. So, do you think I should take it?”
“Jon, you can’t ask me that! It’s up to you - if you like it, then take it.”
“But what I mean is, would you be comfortable here? Spending time here with me? I don’t want to take it if you don’t like it.”
He looked almost vulnerable, and Sara’s heart went out to him as she reached out and took his hand.
“Jon, I’d be happy spending time with you anywhere. I don’t care where. My place, your place, a hotel, a trailer, I don’t mind, so long as you’re there with me.”
Jon grinned at her, pulling on her hand and bringing her into his arms. “That settles it, then. I’ll take it, although I don’t know how long I’ll be happy not living in Jersey. This is temporary, anyway.”
Sara smiled up at him, and Jon pushed his hips forward, grinding gently against her.
“Soooo……I think we should christen the apartment, don’t you?”
“Jon! It’s not yours yet!”
Still holding her close, he reached back and took his cellphone out of his pocket, dialling his office.
“Sue? Yeah, it’s me. What? Oh, I’ll go through all that stuff later. Listen - I’m at the apartment now, and I’ll take it. Can you sort out the paperwork for me?”
Sara heard faint squawking from the phone, then Jon continued.
“Tell them I’ll just keep this key - start the lease from yesterday. Great. Thanks, Sue. Bye.”
He clicked the phone off and looked down at Sara with that twisted grin.
“Now it’s mine.”
“And so am I.” She replied honestly, and his eyes glowed at the implication of that sentence.
“But there still isn’t a bed, well there’s a bed, but no mattress.” Sara pointed out as Jon bent his head to kiss her ear.
He ran his teeth around the edge of her ear until he reached the lobe, sucking it into his mouth for a moment before moving on down her neck. Sara moaned, the sound torn from her throat as he licked at the base of her throat, knowing what it did to her, his hand under the back of her t shirt. She took a handful of his hair to pull him away, fastening her lips hungrily onto his and revelling in the feeling of his tongue in her mouth.
Sara shifted her feet, moving one thigh forward between Jon’s, rubbing gently against his hardening crotch as they kissed. Jon backed her slowly out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, Sara’s fingers busy on his belt. He lifted his head, her taste still in his mouth as he spoke.
“Still want a bed?”
Sara gave a breathless laugh, crinkling her nose. “Only if you do.”
The hands unbuttoning her jeans answered that question, and Sara shuffled out of her shoes, her jeans falling around her ankles just as she unzipped Jon, wriggling his jeans down over his hips. Jon grabbed her waist, lifting her out of her jeans as Sara hooked her legs around him, easing herself onto the rigid shaft he was offering her. He dropped onto his knees, the jolt driving him deeper and making Sara gasp, then he put one hand on the floor to control the movement as he leaned forward, laying Sara on her back on the wooden floor.
Sara kissed him again before laying her head down, but found that the hair knotted behind her head made it uncomfortable. She lifted her head again, reaching back to pull off the band, but Jon got there first, tugging her hair loose so it spread out on the floor. As Jon thrust down into her, taking it slow, Sara felt the hard floor bruising her back, but she ignored the minor pain, putting her hands under Jon’s shirt and shoving it up and over his head, throwing his hair into disarray. She dropped the shirt on the floor as Jon grinned down at her, pushing her t shirt up past her breasts and lowering his face between them. He couldn’t get to the fastening of her bra, so Jon pulled at the soft cups until he had her breasts bared, holding the fabric out of the way as he kissed the smooth skin.
His mouth burned across Sara’s skin, leaving behind a cool trail of saliva where he’d licked against her, then Jon came back to her mouth, not kissing her yet, but running the very tip of his tongue around the edge of her lips, outlining her mouth. Sara smiled at him, sucking her lower lip into her mouth to taste him.
“Kiss me, rock star.” She breathed, and Jon complied instantly, with a passion that took her breath away.
His right hand was on her breast, squeezing her nipple with a deft touch that kept the contact just on the right side of pain, making Sara groan, then she groaned again as he drove into her, the hard floor more painful now her shirt was rucked up. Jon heard the different sound in her voice, and he pulled back from her mouth.
“Baby?”
“It’s fine.” She muttered, beyond caring about the pain for the moment, and she dragged his mouth back onto hers.
Jon’s movements quickened now, and he dropped his hips slightly lower, changing the angle to make sure Sara kept pace with him as they both drove toward orgasm. Sara could feel him moving inside her, gliding back and forth, and she deliberately tightened every muscle she could, increasing the resistance until she heard Jon groaning at the sensation, knowing he could hardly restrain himself. The knowledge of what she’d done to him, and how much he wanted her, coupled with the feeling of him deep inside her tipped Sara over the edge a split second before Jon, and they writhed together on the floor as they came.
As the final tremors shook through them, Jon collapsed on top of Sara as though he’d been shot, breathing heavily as he tried to gather the strength to roll off her. Sara was panting, too, and Jon could feel the residual contractions of her orgasm pulsating around his cock, still buried to the hilt in her hot flesh.
Finally, he found the energy to move, and he pulled himself out of Sara before stretching out beside her, lying on his back on the floor. Sara just turned onto her side - anything to get her abused back off the floor - and laid her head on his shoulder, just above the faded Superman tattoo.
“I guess we’ve christened the apartment then, huh?” She said with a smile, and Jon rolled his head to look at her.
“We’ve christened one room, anyway. How many more are there?”
Sara giggled weakly as she answered. “Too many for today.”
“You’re probably right. We should make a list……..so we don’t miss any rooms……” He suggested.
“Does that mean only once in each room, though?”
“Hell, no.” Jon levered himself into a sitting position, pulling Sara with him.
She laughed as she caught sight of them in a wall mirror. Jon sitting shirtless, his jeans around his thighs, and she had a t shirt pulled up almost to her neck, and that was all she wore.
“Maybe we should make ourselves presentable, just in case the realtor decides to come visit.” She nodded at the reflected image, and Jon grinned.
“They’d just think you couldn’t control yourself, babe……yow!”
As he spoke, Sara smacked his arm, one of those slaps with the back of the fingers that didn’t leave a mark, but stung like a hornet. Laughing, he rose to his feet and pulled his jeans back up then stooped to pick up his shirt. Sara got her bra back into place and pulled her shirt down before standing to get her own jeans, and as she bent, Jon could see the slick sheen of moisture on her inner thighs, making him want her all over again.
Dressed again, Sara twisted her hair back again and tied it in place, then turned to Jon, who was studying the huge bed with interest.
“It’s beautiful.” She said, running one hand over the finely carved footboard, then sliding her fingers up one of the posts.
Jon watched her, a smile on his lips as she caressed the smooth timber.
“Baby, if you don’t stop that, those jeans are coming off again.”
Sara giggled as she dropped her hand. “And here I was, thinking you’d like a bit of pole dancing.”
That was an image Jon really didn’t need put into his head right now, with what was already buzzing around in there, and he gave a crooked grin.
“Honestly? Sounds like a great idea. I was more thinking of tying you to that bed, though.”
He watched her closely as he said it, gauging her response, and was astounded to see her pupils dilate at the suggestion and, though her cheeks flushed, she didn’t reject the idea. Who’d have thought it?
“Not right now.” Was all she said, smiling back at him, and Jon filed away the idea - and the mental image - for later as he took her hand.
“Let’s get out of here. You said you’ve got work to do, right?”
“Mm-hm. And the doorman will be wondering what’s taking so long!”
They left the apartment - Jon’s apartment - and took the lift back down to the foyer, stepping out hand in hand. The doorman was reading his newspaper again, and when he laid it down to stand up politely, although with a less-than-polite smirk on his face, Sara’s fingernails dug painfully into Jon’s palm. He looked at her, then saw the direction of her eyes and looked at the newspaper.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Chapter 54
Richie was pouring coffee as they walked in, and he looked up with a smile.
“Good morning! How you doin’ Sara - sleep well?”
“I did, thanks. I must’ve been tired - Jon went out to the gym and I didn’t even hear him leave.”
Richie turned a stunned look on Jon.
“There’s something really wrong with you, Jon. You wake up next to a beautiful woman, and what do you do? You go to the gym!”
“Yeah, but at least I’m still alive.” Jon said with a grin at Sara. “This lady does not like to be woken up!”
“That’s true.” Sara admitted. “I’m so not a morning person! I usually need my coffee in the morning before I can be civil.”
“You seem okay to me.” Richie said. “Okay - there’s a ton of food here - I didn’t know what you liked, Sara. Except chocolate, obviously, but you can’t eat chocolate for breakfast!”
“Why not?”
“Jesus - it’s like talking to Ava! Help yourself - there’s plenty of proper food here.”
The three of them took plates and served themselves from a selection of bacon, eggs, sausage and potatoes. They were all hungry and ate in dedicated silence for a few minutes, then Richie cleared his throat.
“What are you two doing today, then?”
“Well, sadly enough, I need to go to work for a while.” Sara said. “I’ve been neglecting things a bit recently.”
“I said I’d drop you off, didn’t I?” Jon thought for a moment. “Tell you what - since I’m in the city anyway, I could go take a look at this apartment Sue found for me. Why don’t you come with me, babe, then I’ll take you to the studio.”
“I guess I could. Not like anybody’s waiting in the studio today - if I go in late, I leave late.” She gave a twisted grin. “The joys of being your own boss.”
“Good. That’s settled, then. What you doing, Richie? D’you want to come with us?”
“Naw - I think I’ll just hang here. I’ve got a date tonight, so I won’t see you until tomorrow.”
“A date with who?” Jon asked, his eyes narrowing as he wondered whether Denise had managed to sneak back into Richie’s affections.
“Just a pretty lady I met this morning, after Matt’s party. Her name’s Linda, but that’s really all I know about her.”
“Oh. Well, have fun, Rich. When do you fly back out?”
“Probably tomorrow, but I don’t really know. So long as I’m back on the weekend, for Ava, it doesn’t really matter.”
They finished eating, and Jon called his assistant to arrange the visit to the apartment, while Sara poured more coffee for everybody. While Jon was talking on the phone, Sara moved closer to Richie.
“So, what’s this Linda like, then? Or is it none of my business?” She suddenly worried she’d overstepped the bounds of their burgeoning friendship.
“Of course it’s your business, girl. You’re with Jon, which makes you practically family.” Richie grinned at her. “She’s beautiful. Blonde hair, I think she has brown eyes, but it was kinda dark - or maybe it was just my eyes this morning. Her hair’s quite short, kinda bobbed, you know? And she’s got a lovely voice, too, great smile. She works in a hospital.”
“I thought you didn’t know anything about her?”
“I don’t - that’s just what I’ve seen so far - but she gave me her card, that’s why I know about the hospital.”
“Well, I hope she’s as nice as you think, Richie. I think you deserve it, after what’s gone on recently.”
Richie gave her that wide, warm smile. “Thanks, Sara.”
“Okay.” Jon hung up the phone. “All set, babe. We can go over anytime - they’ll leave a key with the doorman, so we can have a look around on our own.”
Sara stood up, coffee cup in hand.
“I don’t mean to run off and leave you, Richie, but I really do have some work I need to do today, so I’d better go throw my stuff back in the bag, get ready to go.”
“Sure, Sara - I know you have your own stuff to do. But I want to see you again before I leave town, you hear me?”
“You’re not getting out of town until you tell me about your Linda.” She told him with a grin as she left the room.
“You two seem to be getting along well.” Jon observed with a smile.
“Hell, I love the girl already.” Richie told him. “She’s good for you, Jon. Long time since I’ve seen you so happy, and I didn’t even realise you weren’t happy before. Don’t fuck it up.”
“You know,” Jon sipped coffee. “I think we’re going to be okay. We talked last night, and this morning, and I think we’re good.”
“Yeah, right - you left Matt’s party to talk. Now I know there’s something wrong with you!”
In the bedroom, Sara quickly threw her things back into the bag. No point hanging her dress up, since it had spent the night crumpled on the floor, but she carefully put the red shoes back into their box before packing them away, too. She picked the sadly flattened rose off the bed, seeing the stain on the sheet, but there was nothing she could do about that. After a moment, she tucked the flower into a pocket of her bag - hell, it was already pressed flat, she may as well see if she could dry it!
She dumped her bag on the bed and went into the bathroom, drying her hair then knotting it back again before heading back to the sitting room, where the guys were chatting.
“All done?” Jon asked, and she nodded affirmatively. “I’ll go get my stuff together, too, I guess.”
Took Jon all of about a minute to open his bag, gather his clothes and drop the whole lot in, zipping the bag closed again. He wasn’t much for packing. While he was alone in the bedroom, he pulled out his cellphone and made a quick call, then returned to the sitting room.
“I’m ready when you are, babe.” He told Sara.
“I know you are.” She replied without thinking, then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Whoops. That was only meant to be a thought! I’m ready to leave, is what I meant to say.”
Richie and Jon laughed at her, both at the innuendo and her reaction, and Richie stood up when she did, hugging her goodbye. Jon waved a hand at him, then led Sara out to the bedroom, collected their bags, then out of the suite and into the elevator. They rode it all the way down to the garage. While Sara had been packing, Jon had called down to say he needed his car, and when they exited the lift the Chevelle was sitting in front of them, driver’s door open and waiting.
The valet did a quick double-take when he saw Jon had a companion, but stepped forward to take their bags, putting them in the trunk then opening the passenger door for Sara.
“Ma’am.”
“Thank you.”
Sara slid onto the deep blue leather seat and the valet closed the door. Jon climbed into the driver’s seat, handing the valet a bill as he closed the door.
“Thanks for looking after her.” He said with a grin as the valet pocketed the money.
Jon turned the ignition, the engine roaring before settling to a steady, burbling beat, and he drove slowly toward the exit, slipping his sunglasses on as they reached daylight. Sara reached into her handbag and put on her own glasses, then Jon eased out onto the road, joining the flowing river of boring, bland modern cars.
“What d’you think?” Jon asked after a few minutes, seeing the smile on Sara’s face every time he revved the engine. “Like her?”
“She’s gorgeous. I love her.” Sara said, turning to face him, strands of her hair escaping the knot as the wind blew through the car. “Must be a lot harder to drive than a modern car, though.” She’d noticed the muscles flexing in Jon’s arms as he turned the car through some corners, since the classic car didn’t have the luxury of power steering. Okay, so she’d been fascinated by the movement of those muscles, remembering the strength in them, but she wasn’t about to tell him that!
“Actually, she isn’t. You just need to love her a bit more.” Jon suddenly peered up at a building, braking. “I think this is us, here. Yeah, this is it.”
He pulled in at the kerb in front of an old building, parking the car and jumping out. He hustled around the front of the car to open Sara’s door for her, taking her hand to help her out then shutting the door behind her. They went into the building, and the uniformed doorman obviously recognised him, laying down his newspaper and stepping out from behind his desk with a key in his hand.
“Mr Bon Jovi, good morning. Ma’am.” He nodded pleasantly to Sara, who smiled back.
“Hi. We’re here to take a look at an apartment.” Jon said, and the doorman held up the key.
“Yes, sir. You’re going to the top floor, the penthouse, so there are no neighbours. The elevator will only operate if you use this key, which also opens the apartment.”
“Thanks.” Jon took the key, taking Sara’s hand and leading her toward the elevator.
Inside the elevator, he slid the key into the panel before selecting the top floor. As the door slid closed, he pulled the key out again. The elevator was classically styled, with timber finishes and brass rails, but obviously more modern than it appeared, since it covered the distance to the top floor in less than a minute, the door opening to reveal a plush marble foyer, with smooth white walls and a single door facing them. Jon unlocked and opened the door and they entered the apartment, closing the door.
The door opened onto a short hallway, with sunlight emanating from the far end, drawing them down the corridor, passing by doors without looking inside. There was a sharp bend at the bottom of the hallway, and when they turned the corner, they went down a couple of stairs into a huge sitting room, floor to ceiling windows the source of the light streaming in.
“Wow.” Sara said softly, instinctively crossing the room to the windows, looking out onto a small park.
She turned around, taking in the rest of the room, Jon still standing at the top of the stairs, watching her. The apartment was unfurnished, wooden floors glowing in the sunlight. Off to the right as Sara looked was a large, beautifully fitted kitchen, granite surfaces and cherry cabinets. A door led off to the other side of the stair, and Sara walked over to push it open, finding a dining room with more full-length windows.
Jon followed her into the dining room. “What d’you think, babe?”
Sara spun from the window. “It’s not what I think. It’s meant to be your apartment, Jon. Do you like it?”
“Seems okay so far. Haven’t found the bedroom yet, though.” He grabbed her hand.
“Good morning! How you doin’ Sara - sleep well?”
“I did, thanks. I must’ve been tired - Jon went out to the gym and I didn’t even hear him leave.”
Richie turned a stunned look on Jon.
“There’s something really wrong with you, Jon. You wake up next to a beautiful woman, and what do you do? You go to the gym!”
“Yeah, but at least I’m still alive.” Jon said with a grin at Sara. “This lady does not like to be woken up!”
“That’s true.” Sara admitted. “I’m so not a morning person! I usually need my coffee in the morning before I can be civil.”
“You seem okay to me.” Richie said. “Okay - there’s a ton of food here - I didn’t know what you liked, Sara. Except chocolate, obviously, but you can’t eat chocolate for breakfast!”
“Why not?”
“Jesus - it’s like talking to Ava! Help yourself - there’s plenty of proper food here.”
The three of them took plates and served themselves from a selection of bacon, eggs, sausage and potatoes. They were all hungry and ate in dedicated silence for a few minutes, then Richie cleared his throat.
“What are you two doing today, then?”
“Well, sadly enough, I need to go to work for a while.” Sara said. “I’ve been neglecting things a bit recently.”
“I said I’d drop you off, didn’t I?” Jon thought for a moment. “Tell you what - since I’m in the city anyway, I could go take a look at this apartment Sue found for me. Why don’t you come with me, babe, then I’ll take you to the studio.”
“I guess I could. Not like anybody’s waiting in the studio today - if I go in late, I leave late.” She gave a twisted grin. “The joys of being your own boss.”
“Good. That’s settled, then. What you doing, Richie? D’you want to come with us?”
“Naw - I think I’ll just hang here. I’ve got a date tonight, so I won’t see you until tomorrow.”
“A date with who?” Jon asked, his eyes narrowing as he wondered whether Denise had managed to sneak back into Richie’s affections.
“Just a pretty lady I met this morning, after Matt’s party. Her name’s Linda, but that’s really all I know about her.”
“Oh. Well, have fun, Rich. When do you fly back out?”
“Probably tomorrow, but I don’t really know. So long as I’m back on the weekend, for Ava, it doesn’t really matter.”
They finished eating, and Jon called his assistant to arrange the visit to the apartment, while Sara poured more coffee for everybody. While Jon was talking on the phone, Sara moved closer to Richie.
“So, what’s this Linda like, then? Or is it none of my business?” She suddenly worried she’d overstepped the bounds of their burgeoning friendship.
“Of course it’s your business, girl. You’re with Jon, which makes you practically family.” Richie grinned at her. “She’s beautiful. Blonde hair, I think she has brown eyes, but it was kinda dark - or maybe it was just my eyes this morning. Her hair’s quite short, kinda bobbed, you know? And she’s got a lovely voice, too, great smile. She works in a hospital.”
“I thought you didn’t know anything about her?”
“I don’t - that’s just what I’ve seen so far - but she gave me her card, that’s why I know about the hospital.”
“Well, I hope she’s as nice as you think, Richie. I think you deserve it, after what’s gone on recently.”
Richie gave her that wide, warm smile. “Thanks, Sara.”
“Okay.” Jon hung up the phone. “All set, babe. We can go over anytime - they’ll leave a key with the doorman, so we can have a look around on our own.”
Sara stood up, coffee cup in hand.
“I don’t mean to run off and leave you, Richie, but I really do have some work I need to do today, so I’d better go throw my stuff back in the bag, get ready to go.”
“Sure, Sara - I know you have your own stuff to do. But I want to see you again before I leave town, you hear me?”
“You’re not getting out of town until you tell me about your Linda.” She told him with a grin as she left the room.
“You two seem to be getting along well.” Jon observed with a smile.
“Hell, I love the girl already.” Richie told him. “She’s good for you, Jon. Long time since I’ve seen you so happy, and I didn’t even realise you weren’t happy before. Don’t fuck it up.”
“You know,” Jon sipped coffee. “I think we’re going to be okay. We talked last night, and this morning, and I think we’re good.”
“Yeah, right - you left Matt’s party to talk. Now I know there’s something wrong with you!”
In the bedroom, Sara quickly threw her things back into the bag. No point hanging her dress up, since it had spent the night crumpled on the floor, but she carefully put the red shoes back into their box before packing them away, too. She picked the sadly flattened rose off the bed, seeing the stain on the sheet, but there was nothing she could do about that. After a moment, she tucked the flower into a pocket of her bag - hell, it was already pressed flat, she may as well see if she could dry it!
She dumped her bag on the bed and went into the bathroom, drying her hair then knotting it back again before heading back to the sitting room, where the guys were chatting.
“All done?” Jon asked, and she nodded affirmatively. “I’ll go get my stuff together, too, I guess.”
Took Jon all of about a minute to open his bag, gather his clothes and drop the whole lot in, zipping the bag closed again. He wasn’t much for packing. While he was alone in the bedroom, he pulled out his cellphone and made a quick call, then returned to the sitting room.
“I’m ready when you are, babe.” He told Sara.
“I know you are.” She replied without thinking, then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Whoops. That was only meant to be a thought! I’m ready to leave, is what I meant to say.”
Richie and Jon laughed at her, both at the innuendo and her reaction, and Richie stood up when she did, hugging her goodbye. Jon waved a hand at him, then led Sara out to the bedroom, collected their bags, then out of the suite and into the elevator. They rode it all the way down to the garage. While Sara had been packing, Jon had called down to say he needed his car, and when they exited the lift the Chevelle was sitting in front of them, driver’s door open and waiting.
The valet did a quick double-take when he saw Jon had a companion, but stepped forward to take their bags, putting them in the trunk then opening the passenger door for Sara.
“Ma’am.”
“Thank you.”
Sara slid onto the deep blue leather seat and the valet closed the door. Jon climbed into the driver’s seat, handing the valet a bill as he closed the door.
“Thanks for looking after her.” He said with a grin as the valet pocketed the money.
Jon turned the ignition, the engine roaring before settling to a steady, burbling beat, and he drove slowly toward the exit, slipping his sunglasses on as they reached daylight. Sara reached into her handbag and put on her own glasses, then Jon eased out onto the road, joining the flowing river of boring, bland modern cars.
“What d’you think?” Jon asked after a few minutes, seeing the smile on Sara’s face every time he revved the engine. “Like her?”
“She’s gorgeous. I love her.” Sara said, turning to face him, strands of her hair escaping the knot as the wind blew through the car. “Must be a lot harder to drive than a modern car, though.” She’d noticed the muscles flexing in Jon’s arms as he turned the car through some corners, since the classic car didn’t have the luxury of power steering. Okay, so she’d been fascinated by the movement of those muscles, remembering the strength in them, but she wasn’t about to tell him that!
“Actually, she isn’t. You just need to love her a bit more.” Jon suddenly peered up at a building, braking. “I think this is us, here. Yeah, this is it.”
He pulled in at the kerb in front of an old building, parking the car and jumping out. He hustled around the front of the car to open Sara’s door for her, taking her hand to help her out then shutting the door behind her. They went into the building, and the uniformed doorman obviously recognised him, laying down his newspaper and stepping out from behind his desk with a key in his hand.
“Mr Bon Jovi, good morning. Ma’am.” He nodded pleasantly to Sara, who smiled back.
“Hi. We’re here to take a look at an apartment.” Jon said, and the doorman held up the key.
“Yes, sir. You’re going to the top floor, the penthouse, so there are no neighbours. The elevator will only operate if you use this key, which also opens the apartment.”
“Thanks.” Jon took the key, taking Sara’s hand and leading her toward the elevator.
Inside the elevator, he slid the key into the panel before selecting the top floor. As the door slid closed, he pulled the key out again. The elevator was classically styled, with timber finishes and brass rails, but obviously more modern than it appeared, since it covered the distance to the top floor in less than a minute, the door opening to reveal a plush marble foyer, with smooth white walls and a single door facing them. Jon unlocked and opened the door and they entered the apartment, closing the door.
The door opened onto a short hallway, with sunlight emanating from the far end, drawing them down the corridor, passing by doors without looking inside. There was a sharp bend at the bottom of the hallway, and when they turned the corner, they went down a couple of stairs into a huge sitting room, floor to ceiling windows the source of the light streaming in.
“Wow.” Sara said softly, instinctively crossing the room to the windows, looking out onto a small park.
She turned around, taking in the rest of the room, Jon still standing at the top of the stairs, watching her. The apartment was unfurnished, wooden floors glowing in the sunlight. Off to the right as Sara looked was a large, beautifully fitted kitchen, granite surfaces and cherry cabinets. A door led off to the other side of the stair, and Sara walked over to push it open, finding a dining room with more full-length windows.
Jon followed her into the dining room. “What d’you think, babe?”
Sara spun from the window. “It’s not what I think. It’s meant to be your apartment, Jon. Do you like it?”
“Seems okay so far. Haven’t found the bedroom yet, though.” He grabbed her hand.
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