Chapter Eight

Erin woke slowly the next morning, her body easing gently from sleep in the way only experienced after a deep, long rest. She felt deliciously free and comfortable snuggled beneath the thick covers, and as she woke more fully, she noticed an extra warmth seemed to radiate from them. Half-conscious of it, she turned her head lazily and saw the source: the beautiful, sexy, naked man lying next to her, spread out comfortably on his back, an arm flung over his face covering his eyes.

Erin’s eyes snapped open as she suddenly remembered the night before, images and scenes playing out in rapid fast-forward motion, drawing an instant flush to her cheeks.

Oh my God, she thought, closing her eyes and suddenly becoming aware of the slight hangover that resided in her head; her body was loose and sore from other activity.

Chocolate cake…oral fixations…an orgasm on the floor…strawberries and cream…and Erin vaguely recalled pretending she was a cowgirl sometime after midnight when they had come upstairs…

She groaned. She knew she had consumed several glasses of wine last night – and while they certainly weren’t enough to make her drunk, she definitely remembered a liberating buzz…and the tiny throbs in her head now reminded her of it. She had been coherent enough last night to follow through with their actions and to justify her part in them, but now, after she had slept off the wine and her mind had cleared a bit, she wondered where the hell it had all come from.

She glanced over again at the sleeping man beside her. Despite her conflicted thoughts, she couldn’t help but smile. Damn, was he ever sexy. And Lord, was he a good lover…

Erin blushed again as she remembered their rendezvous. Somehow, despite the slight guilt, she felt more satisfied this morning than she had in, quite literally, years. In fact, she had never remembered being brought to the brink of orgasm so quickly, and actually reaching that orgasm four times, in one night before. It had been raw, pure passion at its finest. Jon had indulged her desires, given life to her fantasies, and awakened the sleeping animal inside of her: she couldn’t ever remember being so open with her sexuality as she was with him last night.

And she had just met the guy a week before! That was what unsettled her above all else. Not the mind-blowing sex, but with whom it had been.

Jon Bon Jovi. Holy shit.

As if reading her mind yet again, Jon stirred slightly and turned his head, his eyes opening slowly to reveal their deep blue facets.

Erin smiled. “Good morning.”

Jon smiled back at her, making her heart jump again. “Good morning yourself,” he said groggily. “Sleep well?”

“I’ll say,” Erin rubbed her face. “What time is it?”

Jon turned to read the digital clock standing on the nightstand next to the side of the bed where Erin usually slept. “Noon,” he laughed. “Not surprising.”

Erin laughed softly. “No, not really. How’d you sleep?”

Jon stretched his arms above his head and yawned, nodding as he did so in such a casual, comfortable way that Erin had to remind herself they weren’t a couple. Or at least, not a conventional one.

“Pretty damn well,” he grinned, looking back at her. He looked so sexy in that moment – hair tousled, lips flushed, eyes slightly narrowed from sleep, a light pink mark on his forehead from his arm – that Erin couldn’t help but reach out and run her fingers through his hair. “Good,” she murmured. “Because you needed it after dealing with me.”

Jon tilted his head further back into the pillow and laughed. “After dealing with you? Baby, I do believe it was my name that echoed through these walls when you screamed it – several times, if I remember correctly.”

Erin flushed again. “Well you did your fair share of screaming too, you know,” she smirked.

“Yes,” Jon nodded. “Yes I did. I don’t deny it.”

He met her gaze with dancing eyes and Erin had to resist the urge to have another go at him right then and there. Instead, she heard her stomach take advantage of the silence to let her know it was empty.

“Hungry?” she asked, hiding a smile as she turned away from him and slid out from beneath the covers.

Jon laughed. “This time, yes I am. So I won’t scold you for bringing up food again.”

Erin padded through the plush carpet toward the bathroom, her back to him. “Thank you,” she called over her shoulder. “Because I’m going to eat whether you join me or not.”

“Are strawberries on the menu this morning?”

Erin turned and saw Jon stretched out further on the bed, his arms folded behind his head and the blankets receded along his body as far as his waist. Her eyes traveled downward and her mind wandered for a minute before she answered.

“No,” she said coyly. “But if you get out of bed right now I’ll throw some whipped cream on your pancakes.”

Jon arched an eyebrow. “Mmm, I like when you talk dirty.”

Erin laughed and rolled her eyes. “All right, Slick, out of bed. You can shower in the guest room while I get ready in here, and then we’ll go downstairs for sustenance.” She grabbed her robe off the back of the bathroom door and slipped an arm into it. “There’s soap and shampoo in there, but you’ll need a towel.”

She padded into the hallway and opened the linen closet, retrieving a soft white towel from the top shelf. As she returned to the bedroom she saw Jon had gotten out of bed, and the sight of him standing there completely bare and exposed stirred something in her core.

She inhaled deeply and handed him the towel. “Wash,” she instructed. “Before I change my mind.”

Jon smirked. “Is that a threat?”

Erin forced herself to turn away from him and enter the bathroom. “Maybe,” she said slyly. “But it’s an empty one for now, because I am going to take a shower now – and this door will be closed. And locked,” she added, smiling.

Jon sighed good-naturedly. “All right, have fun,” he winked as he moved toward the doorway. “But not too much, or I’ll have to force my way in there.”

Erin smiled and closed the door. She stood there for a moment, knowing full well he’d try to sneak in. After a small pause, she clicked the snap lock into place…and heard a small laugh from just outside the door. She stifled a laugh of her own and heard soft footsteps as he left the room.

Shaking her head and smiling to herself, Erin turned on the hot water and shed her robe before stepping into the shower.



Twenty minutes later, freshly washed, dressed, and smelling faintly of roses, Erin descended the stairs to find Jon sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. He was dressed in yesterday’s slightly rumpled clothes and unshaven, the light stubble casting a shadowed look on his features that made him look relaxed and calm. His hair wasn’t fully dry yet, and though the top of it was fluffed, if not untamed, the wet ends clung to the nape of his neck. He smelled like soap and Herbal Essences, and Erin thought he was sexier than ever.

As she approached him, he looked up and pulled a face. “You could have warned me that all you had was shampoo that smells like oranges.”

Erin laughed. “Would it have made a difference?”

“No, but now I smell like a fruit basket.”

Erin walked up and buried her nose in his hair. “It suits you,” she proclaimed, breathing deeply.

Jon was ever so slightly taken aback as she hovered over him. It was such a simple thing to do – so casual and nonchalant – and yet he found it desirably sensual.

“Oh yeah?” he tilted his head up and looked into her captivating forest green eyes. They still intrigued him as if each time he looked into them was the first time, and he easily considered them her best feature. Her brilliant smile, easy laugh, smooth voice, and wild body were all close seconds, though.

She smiled and kissed his lips softly. “Yeah.”

She turned and retreated into the kitchen, bouncing away and leaving him grinning. “So how many pancakes, Slick?”

“Two or three,” he shrugged. “However many you’re having.”

Erin opened the cupboard and reached up to retrieve the pancake mix box, her angora sweater rising slightly to leave a strip of her bare stomach exposed. Jon eyed it, feeling the stirrings of desire begin again.

“Think you can handle four?”

Jon smiled. A woman with a man’s appetite. She was becoming more perfect in his eyes by the second.

“Bring it on.”

Jon watched her as she turned toward the stove, shaking his head inwardly at what had transpired in the last twenty-four hours. You’re a crazy bastard, he chided himself. He certainly wasn’t a stranger to the one-night stand scene, but this felt different somehow. Erin was no ordinary woman. Hell, she was anything but ordinary, he smiled to himself, remembering how wild she had become after she lowered her guard the night before. He felt connected to her – emotionally, spiritually – like he’d known her for years.

There was a certain vulnerability about her though, he couldn’t help but notice. At several times during the night, she had seemed hesitant, unsure, as if she were acting against her better judgment.

Well hell, he had been too, but once they had started feeling each other up, it was too late for second thoughts for him. They were at a point of no return as far as he was concerned.

She, however, continued to seem distant a few times – like her thoughts were on something else. Something that was making her feel guilty.

Or someone that was making her feel that way.

For such a strong, confident, and openly sexy woman, it just didn’t seem to fit. Jon mused over it for a bit longer while Erin moved about the kitchen, the enticing smells of pancakes cooking making his stomach rumble.

“You’re quiet,” she announced, setting a cup of coffee in front of him. “Everything all right?”

Jon nodded and smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired…and hungry,” he winked.

“Hey, I’m cookin’ these babies as fast as I can. Gimme a few more minutes.”

Jon waved his hand. “No rush, no rush. Mind if I have a look around the place? I kind of missed the tour last night.”

Erin smiled. “Sure, go ahead. I’ll call you when these are ready.”

Jon got up and meandered out of the dining area, entering the living room. A stirring between his legs triggered at the memory of what had transpired on the floor there, and he crossed through the room to the large brick fireplace that sat along the adjacent wall.

A long shelf acted as a mantle above the hearth, and several picture frames lined it. The people in the pictures looked like family – there was an older couple with graying blonde hair and a younger woman who looked a lot like Erin in all three of them, and Jon smiled as his eyes fell on a photo of the Coronado Bay Bridge in San Diego.

Aside from those photos, there was nothing on the mantle but a small vase at the end filled with tiny white daises, which, upon closer look, were fake and made of velvet. A couple of black and white professional nature photographs gave some character to the otherwise bare walls in the room, and the cream-colored sofa was accompanied by a matching armchair and a narrow glass coffee table, on top of which still sat their half-empty wine glasses. The rest of the room was bare and virtually void of personality, with nothing but the furniture and a wide screen television to fill it.

Jon wandered into an adjoining room which appeared to be Erin’s office; a wraparound desk filled the room and was adorned with stacks of papers, file trays, a large Apple computer, a printer, scanner, telephone, and other various office supplies which all looked top-of-the-line and expensive.

At that moment, Jon heard Erin calling for breakfast and he left the office, grabbing the wineglasses from the living room as he made his way back to the kitchen.

Erin was setting two plates on the table as he entered the dining room, stacked with large buttermilk pancakes that smelled delicious.

“Mmm, looks wonderful,” Jon said as he held up the wineglasses.

“Oh thanks, I forgot about those,” Erin took them and set them in the sink before returning to the table. “Okay, I have margarine and syrup, so use whatever you want. And is coffee still okay or do you want orange juice?”

“Coffee is fine, baby. Sit and eat.” Jon smiled as he saw that she had kept her promise and spooned a generous topping of whipped cream onto his breakfast.

They started in on their food quickly, both ravenous. Within ten minutes the last crumbs from the cakes had disappeared from their plates and both Jon and Erin leaned back in their chairs, happily and contentedly full.

“I am stuffed,” Erin announced with a laugh.

Jon nodded. “You’re a good cook.”

He helped her bring the dishes into the kitchen and rinse them, and as they finished they both stood awkwardly, unsure what to say.

“Well, I should probably get going,” Jon finally said, looking at her with apologetic eyes.

As much as Erin wanted to protest, she knew he was right. Her body told her to haul him back upstairs to bed, but her mind knew they had to get on with their lives for the time being. She nodded.

Jon turned and started gathering his belongings – his shoes were sitting by the front door and he pulled them on slowly, taking his time. He retrieved his keys and wallet from the counter and reached for his coat, which was still draped over the back of one of the dining chairs, and slipped it on, in no hurry to button it up.

“So when will I see you again?” Erin asked, slightly afraid of the answer.

Jon shrugged. “Whenever you want, baby. I know where you live, so if you need me, just call.” He winked.

Erin smirked. “My own sex slave service?”

Jon raised an eyebrow, laughing. “Call it whatever you want, I’ll be here.”

Erin smiled. “Sounds good.”

“Thanks for…everything,” Jon cocked his head to one side. “You know, for giving me a place to sleep and feeding me, that is.” His eyes danced.

Erin smirked. “My pleasure,” she winked.

Jon turned toward the door and pulled it open, shivering as the November chill hit him. “Friday night?” he suddenly asked.

“Huh?”

“Second date. I think it’s appropriate, don’t you?” The question was playful and sly, but Jon’s eyes gave him away. And suddenly Erin knew she couldn’t refuse.

“Absolutely,” she smiled.

Jon grinned and closed the door behind him, and Erin moved toward the window to watch him get into his car. Several minutes later, he pulled away and Erin was left wondering what the hell she had gotten herself into.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Chapter Seven

Jon inhaled sharply as she sucked gently, then began to swirl her tongue around and up and down, closing her mouth around him snugly and then releasing, simulating. She felt him grow even harder as she took him deep into her throat and back out, and she looked up to see him leaning back against the sofa, his chest heaving.

She smiled. She had always been good at this. It made her feel even sexier now to have the power over him, and to give him the same pleasure he had just given her.

Jon shuddered as Erin released her hold on him, leaving him pulsing and aching for more. “Fuck,” he muttered. “You sure know what you’re doing.”

Erin raised an eyebrow. “As do you.”

Jon sat up and tilted her chin upward. “But I’m still not done with you.”

He reached down and grabbed the hem of her sweater, pulling it up and off her body, exposing her flat stomach and lace-covered breasts. He took hold of one of them as he leaned forward and sucked gently at her neck, then marked a slick trail down her chest. He slid off the couch to meet her at her level, and proceeded to slip her bra strap off her shoulder, working his way downward until his mouth met her breast. Deliberately, he ran his tongue around her nipple, kissing her here and there before his mouth enveloped her soft tip and coaxed it hard. Erin’s breathing turned ragged as she relished in the sensation.

Jon’s hunger for her could not be satiated. He had been fighting the urges all night – hell, he’d been fighting them since they met on that damn plane in San Diego. She was wildly sexy – confident, intelligent, sure of herself in a way that didn’t quite meet arrogance, and she knew just how to play him so that he broke down, defeated, whimpering for more. He hadn’t met anyone with that strong of a hold on him in years – it intrigued every one of his senses.

It never occurred to him that they were embarking on a one-night stand. Jumping straight to sex, to the physical, didn’t seem wrong at this point. At least not to him. He knew Richie, his best friend and mentor, would call him an idiot and berate him for acting so impulsively: it wasn’t the eighties after all, he wasn’t a frizzy-topped puppy anymore. He was a grown man and should “know better”.

But Erin was a grown woman. And she was delivering just as much as receiving tonight. Hell, she was delivering more than receiving.

And Jon planned to change that.

He stroked her skin as he continued to suckle her breast, reaching around behind her and unsnapping the bra clasp. It fell into her lap and he tossed it away, then he took her in – naked body and all.

She was simply beautiful – her long blonde hair fell around her bare shoulders, her eyes were heavy and lustful, her lips swollen with the activity a few minutes ago. He breasts were full and round, sloping dramatically below into a flat, slender stomach, which in turn flared out into her hips and toned thighs. She definitely worked out – it showed.

Jon winced as the throbbing between his legs became painful, and he allowed Erin to rip off his shirt and explore his chest and torso with her hands, taking advantage of his momentary cease in action.

They fell together in a heap on the floor, groping and stroking each other fervently, breathing heavily. Jon pinned her beneath him, enjoying the power and control he had over her, and at the same time going crazy with the desire to feel himself within her.

Knowing he shouldn’t get too forceful for fear of hurting and angering her, Jon moved with painstaking calmness. He grit his teeth against the desire to pound into her, and instead positioned himself between her legs slowly and deliberately. By the time he lowered himself over her he was shaking.

He had every intention of entering slowly, but when Erin thrust her hips up impatiently to meet his, Jon lost the last shred of self-control he had. Plunging himself into her, he steadied his arms on the floor next to her shoulders as she grabbed them. She gasped in surprise and tried to catch her breath as he began to drive into her as hard as he could. She whimpered with pleasure as her body instantly responded, and she arched her back, shutting her eyes tight and losing herself.

They moved together as if made for each other – dancing a feral dance that exhausted their energy. When Erin felt the telltale tremors zing through her body and vibrate in her center, she clung more desperately to him, digging her nails into his back. Jon stifled a small cry, and thrust faster, desperate to experience her orgasm.

After a few seconds she found her release, her body tensing violently and relaxing as she screamed his name. Jon groaned loudly as he spilled into her, intensely turned on by the sound of his name on her lips. He stay upright, supported on arms that quickly began to shake as he felt her squeeze him from within, her walls milking him until there was nothing left.

He collapsed into her then, breathing in her musky, sweet scent as her chest heaved. They lay spent for a moment before Jon tenderly pulled out of her and rolled off onto the soft carpet beside her.

“Jesus,” he said aloud. “Erin…holy shit.”

Erin rolled over to face him and laughed. “I guess that answers my question,” she smiled. “Dinner definitely wasn’t enough.”

~

They lay together for a few more minutes before Erin spoke.

“Mmm, I’m hungry,” she mused, gingerly rising from the floor.

Jon laughed. “Are you kidding? We have mind-blowing sex and you think about food?”

Erin looked down at him, her heart jumping at the sight of his rock hard, rigidly toned body lying beneath her on the floor.

“Yeah, well, some things make you work up an appetite,” she smiled and turned toward the kitchen. Now that she had satisfied her craving for him – for now – her seductive skills were back in play, and she touted them mercilessly. It was too much fun to tease him.

Jon sighed amusedly and hoisted himself up off the floor, following her into the kitchen.

“How about some chocolate cake?”

Erin smirked. “I don’t think so, buddy. I need something less rich. Dare I say it…something healthy.”

Jon scrunched up his nose. “Ew. Now why would you want to ruin a perfectly sinful evening with something good?”

Erin opened the fridge and found the package of strawberries she had bought the day before.

“Because,” she answered, handing him the package and retrieving a bowl of whipped cream from the freezer. “Sometimes something so good can be bad.”

Jon growled in the back of his throat as he followed her back into the living room. He was growing hard again already just watching her body sway as she moved, and the thought of what she planned to do with that whipped cream – and what he’d love to do with it – had him nearly seeing double.

She sat back down on the floor, pushing their discarded clothes to the side.

“I take it you like strawberries and cream?” She raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.

“I like cream,” Jon said boldly, throwing her own sarcasm back in her face with a side of seduction.

Erin held his gaze for a second longer before tearing her eyes away. “Well, good, then this should be fun.”

She popped the lid off the whipped cream bowl and opened the package of strawberries, retrieving a fat, juicy berry from the very middle. Dipping it into the thick white whip, she brought it to her lips, parting them slightly before letting her tongue lick away all the cream.

“Mmm,” she said pointedly. “Almost as good as layers of chocolate cake.”

Jon realized he was smirking like an idiot, and decided not to say anything. He wouldn’t let her win. She was trying to pay him back for his torture earlier, but he wouldn’t let her come out on top. He still had a few surprises left in his play strategy.

Erin took the berry into her mouth and softened it with her tongue, relishing in the luscious blend of juice and cream that slowly oozed out. She held Jon’s gaze steadily, and when she swallowed he reached out, gently wiping away a bit of cream from the corner of her mouth. She smiled, then gestured to the food.

“Don’t you want any?”

Again, Jon smirked stupidly.

“I certainly do,” he replied, not leaving her gaze. “Oh, you meant the strawberries?”

Erin rolled her eyes and tsked. “That was lame. You’re fired.”

Jon chuckled. “Am I? All right, I’m done. But you’re not. Lay back.”

Erin raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Jon grabbed the bowl of whipped cream and moved toward her. “I said, lay back.”

Uncertainly, Erin did as she was told. Jon slowly hovered over her, holding the whipped cream in one hand. He dipped his fingers into the white sweetness and scooped some out, gathering it on her breast.

Erin giggled. “Is that all you got?” she asked teasingly. “Just a cliché act of foreplay?”

“Hey,” Jon stopped and pretended to look hurt. “You brought the strawberries and cream out, remember?”

Erin stopped giggling and tried not to smile. Oh yeah.

Jon continued to gently cover her breasts with the whipped cream until there were two small mounds of white on her chest. Then he reached for the strawberries and delicately placed one in the center of each mound, creating a sexy and picture-perfect scene right out of a Frederick’s catalogue.

Erin watched as he finished his preparation, then inhaled deeply as he looked into her eyes and lowered himself over her, his mouth dipping into the delicious mixture of berry and cream. His tongue scooped up the strawberry and he crushed it in his mouth slowly, savoring the luscious explosion of juice.

Once he finished the strawberry, he slowly continued to lick away the whipped cream, mouthing it with his soft lips. When he reached the bottom, Erin groaned softly as his mouth and tongue softly slid along her breast, licking off the remnants of the cream and teasing her hard again. His lips were so soft, his movements so gentle, she could hardly stand to lay still. Once he finished one breast, he moved on to the other.

“You’re so sexy, you know that?” Erin muttered as she watched him lick away the rest of the cream from her other breast.

Jon looked up at her grinned wickedly. “So I’ve been told.”

An hour later, the strawberries were gone, the whipped cream bowl was nearly empty, and both Jon and Erin were sticky with sugar.

“Holy shit, look at the time,” Erin said in surprise as she glanced at the clock.

Jon grinned. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

“Now where have I heard that before?” Erin winked, rising up off the floor.

“Where are you going?”

“Relax, mister, I’m not giving in. I just want to bring these into the kitchen before we stain my clean carpet.”

Jon smirked. “I think it’s already been stained, baby.”

He followed her into the kitchen and watched as she bent over to put the last of the whipped cream into the freezer.

“Nice ass,” he teased as he came up behind her and swatted her.

“Hey!” she yelped, laughing.

“You really kicked my ass tonight, woman.” Jon pulled her into him, his stomach jumping at the feel of her entire bare body against his.

“I kicked yours?” Erin asked incredulously. “You’re a machine!”

Jon laughed. “Yes, yes I am. But you might just be the end of me.”

“What, don’t tell me you’ve never met your match,” Erin said nonchalantly. “How could you not have?”

Jon cocked his head to one side. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sure you’ve been with many women,” she explained.

Jon shook his head. “That’s a common misconception,” he said softly.

He brought his lips gently to hers and kissed her softly. Erin’s heart skipped several beats – ironically, after the crazy, wild evening of passion they had just shared, that simple kiss was more intense and electrifying than anything else they had done.

They gazed out the kitchen window silently, watching the silent neighborhood. Only one car passed, driving slowly and calmly on the dark street.

Erin leaned into Jon from behind, and he immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. She smelled like sex and strawberries, and he rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in the invigorating scent.

They stood in silence for a moment longer before Jon spoke. “Didn’t that car just drive by?”

Erin looked out the window and saw a car coming from the other direction, driving slowly like the first.

“Probably lost,” she muttered, as she took his hand and led him out of the kitchen. “Who cares anyway?”

Jon smiled and surrendered to her, allowing himself to be led up the stairs and into the bedroom.

It had been a night of passion, a night of discovery, a night of new frontiers and intense pleasure. Both Jon and Erin’s minds were wandering, wondering what the hell they were doing, and at the same time, accepting it without question. Neither could deny they hadn’t been brought to such ecstasy in a long, long time. And neither was willing to forego it for the sake of “taking things slow”.

Erin shut the door behind them and closed the curtains before they climbed into bed together. Her body still smelled sweet and enticing, and Jon was only too happy to taste her as they tangled themselves beneath the covers.

Neither of them saw the car pass by a third time.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Chapter Six

Erin sauntered up the walk and let herself into the house, smirking to herself and turning around only once to wave goodbye. The poor guy looks so disappointed, she thought, chuckling. Seduction had always been a stronger point for her.

As she set down her purse and shed her coat, her thoughts jolted back to the dinner. There was no doubt that something was playing beneath the surface for both of them; Jon had made that much clear in his one-man-show of chocolate consumption. The performance had been unsettling for Erin – in a fiery, dangerous way that left her with an unsatisfied craving, and not just for chocolate.

The truth was – she wanted to be that fork.

Erin flipped on the lights and entered the kitchen, reaching for a glass in the cupboard. The blinds in front of the windows above the kitchen sink were open, and she caught a glimpse of Jon’s car still sitting outside, headlights ablaze. She stopped, wondering if something was wrong.

It didn’t look as if he was outside the car, and she figured he was probably on his phone or adjusting something before he drove off. But when the headlights went off a second later, Erin’s stomach jumped.

She set the glass down on the counter and hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to go open the front door or pretend she hadn’t noticed that he hadn’t gone. She decided on the former, but before she could move the doorbell rang.

She couldn’t help but smile as she moved to the oak-paneled door: she had tortured the poor guy after all; it was just funny to see how desperate he was for more.

Erin opened the door and raised an eyebrow at him, asking silently what she could help him with.

Jon wore an expression that clearly said he was acting against his best judgment, but that he could care less. “At the risk of sounding intrusive,” he began, an unmistakable smile playing on his lips. “Can I come in?”

Erin hesitated for a nanosecond before opening the door wider without a word, hiding her own smirk.

“Would you like something to drink?” she offered, heading back to the kitchen. “I was just about to get a glass of water, but wine suddenly sounds more appealing.” Not that you need more alcohol, you idiot, she thought to herself. Nevertheless, she opened another cabinet above the stove and pulled out a bottle of Chardonnay and two wineglasses, then returned the other glass on the counter to its own cabinet.

Jon took off his coat and casually draped it over the back of a chair in the dining room. “Sounds great. Nice place you’ve got here,” he added, looking around him at the spotless furniture and neat, orderly setting.

Erin nodded as she poured two glasses of the pale yellow liquid. “Thank you. It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“It looks like my place,” Jon said thoughtfully. “Unlived in.”

Erin entered the dining room and set down his drink in front of him. “I told you I’m a workaholic.”

“A woman after my own heart,” Jon picked up the glass and nodded. “Here’s to us.”

They each drank deeply without a word, sizing each other up as inconspicuously as they could, but neither openly acknowledging the heavy sexual tension that thickened the air between them.

Finally, Erin spoke. “So, dinner wasn’t enough?” she winked.

Jon met her eyes and held them, his gaze intense and sensual. Erin felt her blood begin to race, and an uncontrollable tremor made its way up her spine. Jon didn’t answer at first, but held her gaze so long she finally had to look away, preoccupying herself with the wine.

“Shall we move into the living room, or do you have a no drink policy in there?” he finally asked, sensuality now mixing with amusement as he watched her squirm.

Erin smiled, trying to still her thumping heart. “No, the living room sounds good. It’s more comfortable.” She got up and left the room quickly.

“Precisely,” Jon whispered, following her a moment later.

Erin chided herself as she sat down on the soft cream-colored sofa in the dimly light living room. You’re playing with fire here, she thought angrily to herself. And you’re losing.

They settled onto the sofa and Erin slung one leg across the other, but Jon sat casually, his legs spread comfortably wide. Erin tried not to let her gaze wander.

A pregnant and very awkward silence ensued as they continued to sip their wine, both trying, and failing, to ignore the blatant beckoning of human nature.

Finally Jon spoke, his voice soft and thick with seduction. “You’re a beautiful woman, Erin,” he said pointedly, swirling the contents of his wineglass around casually, not looking at her.

Erin inhaled deeply. Her desire had become dizzying, her longing primal.

“Thank you,” she said, stupidly. Three points Jon, one point Erin.

Without another word, Jon gently placed his hand on her thigh and slowly slid it upward, sending delightful tingles through her skin. She enjoyed it intensely, but when she tried again to muster up the playful seduction she had so coyly played earlier, she found nothing but blinding indulgence and a timid, uncharacteristic reaction.

Fuck, she thought. The effect this man has on a woman…

Jon’s hand slid further, up her thigh and hip, up the side of her body to her breast, where he stopped and gently covered it, squeezing gently. “Mmm, that’s nice.”

Finally, Erin could control her emotions no longer, and as heavy waves of lust and fuzzy freeness from the wine overtook her body, she succumbed to them gratefully. She grabbed Jon’s hand and shoved it away, then commenced her own torture as she slid her hand forcefully down between his legs. Jon jumped and sucked in a breath, watching her hand as she began to massage him through his jeans.

She worked him expertly, her hand skillfully clenching and releasing, rubbing and stroking at all the right times and places. An instant and powerful rush of emotion flooded Jon’s body: her hesitations had been sexy, but this was a downright turn-on.

He groaned softly, but quickly grew annoyed with the rough denim separating him from her silky skin, and was ecstatically surprised when she reached for his zipper and began to slide it down, her other hand reaching over to undo the button.

Jon leaned over and took her wineglass, then set both of them on the coffee table as Erin slid her hand down his pants and commenced torture, massaging him until he was hard as a rock.

As she worked him, Erin grew dizzy with the lust that had taken her judgment hostage. She tried to contrast the thoughts of what she wanted to do to the man sitting next to her with what she shouldn’t be doing…and why.

But it didn’t work. Her movements grew quicker, and Jon finally took her hand and stilled it, looking up at her with intensely desirous eyes that begged the moment. He took her waist in both hands, sliding them up underneath her sweater and across her breasts, eliciting a small groan from her. Her skin was soft, invitingly supple, and Jon had to readjust himself to soothe the throbbing ache between his legs. He withdrew his hands and slid off the sofa, kneeling in front of her and gently prying apart her legs.

Erin watched him wide-eyed, wondering if he was going to do what she thought he was going to do…and unsure if she wanted him to.

“I’ve wanted you since the day we met, Erin,” Jon murmured as he undid her jeans. “You’ve been parading that ass of yours around in these tight things and expecting me to be a good boy…and I don’t like being a good boy.”

He ripped the pants off her body, exposing her hot, bare skin, and immediately smoothed his hands over her legs and thighs. Erin threw back her head and relished in the feel of his unbelievably soft hands, his fingers lightly trailing along the inside of her thighs toward where they met.

“And don’t pretend you’re a good girl,” he smirked, pressing gently against her center with two warm fingers. She jumped slightly and managed a smile.

“Well you’re no saint, Jon Bon Jovi.”

Jon raised an eyebrow and lifted a corner of his mouth as he slid a finger beneath the thin lace of her thong and tugged downward, keeping his eyes on hers. Erin felt her heart crashing against her ribcage, and a thousand thoughts swirled around in her head, frenzied and anxious, as if she was responsible for stopping their charade…but knew it was too late.

She didn’t want to, anyway.

Jon eyed her wickedly, his eyes gleaming with mischief before he gripped her tightly and lowered his head. Erin gasped, taken by surprise as his tongue dove between her flesh, causing her entire body to jolt as he stroked her tenderly, rhythmically. His tongue was soft and warm, causing her breaths to come in tiny fits while she moaned appreciatively. His pace quickened and she grabbed a fistful of his thick blonde hair, fighting between wanting to force him deeper and pull him away.

Finally, she relaxed her unsettled mind and soaked it in, getting lost in the moment and forgetting everything else as he indulged her fantasies. He flicked his tongue in and out of her, hitting all the sensitive parts and lapping her up with such delicate diligence that she cried out softly, her muscles contracting for a few seconds.

Jon looked up at her from between her legs and cocked his head to one side. “That’s it?” he asked. “That’s all I gotta do for you to go over?”

Erin tried to catch her breath. “No, that wasn’t really it,” she ran a hand through her hair. “I think that was just a small reaction to being surprised.”

Jon smiled wickedly again. “Good, because I’m not nearly finished with you yet.” He dove downward again, thrusting within her walls more forcefully this time, fucking her with his tongue.

Erin threw back her head and shut her eyes, surprised not only at what was happening, but the fact that what was happening was so…incredible. She couldn’t remember feeling this much pleasure from oral sex in a long time…lately, with Max, it had become so…routine.

Max.

Fuck, she thought, a rock sinking to the pit of her stomach. She had succeeded in forgetting about him, but now the thought of him hovered over her like a cloud. She shook her head, trying to forget him again as she concentrated on the sensations between her legs, but he simply moved to a corner of her mind and stayed put.

She didn’t want to think about him. Not tonight. Even though he was her boyfriend. Even though he’d probably haul out a rifle and hunt Jon down if he knew what they were doing right now. Even though she was technically cheating on him.

And Jon knew nothing about him.

She wondered again why she had lied to him on the plane that night. Perhaps, she now realized, it had been because deep down, she really didn’t love Max. And in all honesty, she wasn’t sure why she was with him in the first place.

Suddenly Erin sat up and tugged on Jon’s hair, making him pull away. “What’s the matter?” he asked, his expression asking if she felt guilty.

Erin just shook her head and gestured to the sofa. Curiously, Jon moved to the spot next to her and Erin immediately reversed their positions, kneeling in front of him and tugging down on his jeans. She peeled them off his legs, taking in his bareness and the vulnerability that he was displaying inadvertently. She fought to keep her face passive as she took in his size, and suddenly she was overcome by another animalistic impulse. She settled herself on her knees and leaned forward, taking him fully into her mouth in one swift movement.

Forget Max. She had a debt to pay.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008