Chapter Fourteen

“I can’t believe someone did that to your car,” Erin said for the third time as she paced impatiently around the living room. Jon was on the phone with his insurance agent, on hold again while they “figured out” if they could cover his repair expenses.

“Bastards,” he looked over at her. “It’s not that I couldn’t have the repairs done myself, but Jesus Christ I pay enough for full coverage with this damn company…”

Erin crossed her arms, more disturbed than angry. While Jon continued with the agent, she looked out the window again anxiously, as if the culprit was going to return to the scene of the crime.

While any other time she would have essentially written off the vandalism as the doings of prankster teenagers, something told her this act had a more sinister undertone. Someone had to have done it intentionally – with a purpose and a reason for damaging something expensive. Had they known the car was Jon’s? And if so, how? And how had they known he would be at Erin’s last night, when she didn’t even know herself until later that night?

She shook her head as Jon flipped his cell closed. “They’ll cover it,” he rolled his eyes. “It needs to be towed though, because of the tires. I don’t believe this.” He ran a hand through his thick blonde hair and sighed. “Who in the world…?”

Erin shook her head. “I was just wondering the same thing. Is there anyone you can think of who has a grudge against you? I mean, strong enough to damage your personal property?”

Jon shrugged. “Beats me. I don’t know of anyone who hates me that much.”

Erin laughed, trying to ease her troubled mind. “Well, maybe the perpetrator got the wrong house…the wrong car…” she trailed off, hardly believing herself.

Jon frowned. “I doubt that. It’s a distinct car. Not exactly a personal sedan. Whoever did it had a reason for doing it, I just don’t know who or why.”

A sinking feeling started in Erin’s stomach as her thoughts skimmed over one person who’d be less than hospitable toward Jon…someone who’d possibly have a motive for attacking him like that.

But he didn’t know about Jon. If that fact had kept Erin awake the other night, it now confused her even more deeply. If it were true, the pieces of this mystery puzzle didn’t fit right.

If it weren’t true, Erin was in a shit load more trouble than she’d originally thought.


Jon sighed heavily as he sank down on the leather sofa in his massive living room.

He’d called Richie earlier that afternoon after the tow-truck had hauled away his car and told him to meet him at his place, and after reassuring a shaken Erin that he was all right, the car would be all right, and a cab ride was no big deal, he’d left her with a kiss.

Now he set a beer down in front of an open-mouthed Richie, who’d just learned the details of their tumultuous morning.

“Holy fuck, Jon,” the guitarist ran a hand through his hair. “That’s scary shit. Any idea who it could have been?”

Jon shrugged, “Nope.”

“But I mean, you don’t have any enemies…that we know of. Who would have a reason to attack you like that?”

Jon shrugged again. He was tired of answering questions he didn’t have the answer to. “No idea. But whoever it was knew that I was at Erin’s place. Which makes it even more ominous – nobody but you knows about Erin.” He looked up at his friend.

“Well it wasn’t me!” Richie feigned defense and held up his hands. “I’d be shit-faced and delusional before I lay a hand on a car like that.”

Jon cracked a smile. “I know. I’m just lost as hell. Erin suggested that someone just got the wrong car, but I highly doubt that.”

Richie snorted. “Bullshit. Whoever it was did it with you in mind.”

Jon nodded silently.

Richie suddenly looked thoughtful. “You said no one but me knows about Erin – but what if it wasn’t someone you know?”

Jon furrowed his brow, confused.

“I mean, what if it was someone on her side? Someone jealous of your new fling…?”

Jon winced at the choice of words. “It’s not a fling, and if that’s the case, she’s got some really screwy friends.”

Richie’s brow arched high, and he paused a moment before replying, nursing his beer. “It’s not a fling? What is it, Jon?”

Jon looked at his friend, surprised at the challenging tone in his voice. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what makes this girl different from the rest?”

Jon stared at him. “Well…everything,” he answered, as though the answer were obvious. “Haven’t we already been through this?”

“Yes,” Richie said cautiously. “But it’s only been what, two weeks? Give or take a couple of days?” he added, when Jon opened his mouth to correct him. “Jon, I know we talked about this before. But if you recall, you were the one who admitted you didn’t know what you were doing. What if you don’t know everything about this chick?”

Jon narrowed his eyes slightly before answering. “What do you mean?” he asked again.

“I mean, you can’t have learned everything about here in these mere two weeks. Everyone has secrets, you and I know that better than anyone. What are hers? I’m willing to bet you don’t know,” Richie raised an eyebrow. “That’s not something a woman spills out on the first few dates, unless she’s a nutter of course. I’m sure there’s a hell lot more to her history and past than you know, and now, after a few dates with her, your car’s been vandalized – at her place – for no apparent reason.”

Jon set his jaw. He hadn’t thought about any of this, and he wasn’t sure what he thought about it now. “Okay, so what are you getting at? You think my car was jacked because of some deep dark secret in her past?”

“No,” Richie said impatiently. “But I think the person who did it has something to do with her. You’re sure she’s not seeing anyone else, right?”

Jon snorted. “Of course. I would have known that.”

“You sure?”

Jon faltered briefly before rolling his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure! Look, that was one of the first things we established back when we met on the plane. She said she was unattached.”

“Right, because women who suddenly find themselves sitting next to a famous rock star on a cross-country flight will openly admit they’re already seeing someone,” Richie retorted.

Jon stared, refusing to believe that Erin was like that. “She’s not seeing anyone else,” he said flatly.

Richie studied him, hard. “You’re falling for this chick,” he said bluntly.

“What?” Jon exclaimed, taken aback. "Where did that come from?"

Richie continued to look at him. “You never get this defensive about the women you date.”

Jon blinked a few times, unsure what to say. “Well, she just wouldn’t lie to me.” He struggled to appear nonchalant, though Richie’s words resounded in his brain.

“Aww shit, Jon, be careful man," Richie leaned back against the sofa and looked worried. "You know what women do with guys like us."

“Look, just because you’ve had a bad experience that jaded you doesn’t mean every woman in the world is a cheating whore with a hidden agenda,” Jon snapped, a defensive rise getting the better of him.

He immediately regretted his words, however, as he saw his friend’s brown eyes darken with pain and anger. “Rich, I’m sorry…”

“Just answer me one question,” Richie interrupted. “Does she feel the same way about you as you do her?”

“I-” Jon stammered. “Well, yeah, of course – I think –”

“I’d be sure if I were you,” Richie cut him off. “It’ll make things a hell of a lot easier in the future.”

Jon fell silent and said no more, lost among his own confused thoughts.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Chapter Thirteen

Jon pulled up outside Erin’s townhouse a short time later, parking and jumping out in two seconds flat. Erin didn’t give him time to open her door; instead, she hopped out and led him up the walk to the front door without saying a word.

They fell into her bed a few minutes later, hungrily taking as much from each other as they would give, tangled in pure physical desire and lust. Their movements were quick and smooth, their breathing in tandem. After a sweaty thirty minutes, their exhaustion got the best of them and they fell into a deep sleep, entwined in each other’s arms.

The next morning dawned cold and gray and Erin awoke early. Gently slipping from Jon’s strong arms, she rose and padded to the bathroom. She flicked on the mirror lights and winced at her disheveled appearance in the glass. Her hair was matted, her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly bruised, and she distinctly smelled the musky scent of sex all over her naked body.

She shook her head once again at the irony of the situation in which she found herself: despite her guilt, she continued to act against her better judgment. The words of a song written by the man in the next room, in her bed, came floating across her wary mind:

Knowing what we’re doing’s wrong
But better left unsaid

Erin sighed and stepped over to the shower, twisting the faucet on and allowing the water that poured out to heat up before she stepped inside.

Goosebumps rose on her skin as the hot water rained down on her body, seeming to add to the intensity of her thoughts. She flipped the top of a green bottle open and squirted some of the gel onto her pouf, filling the steamy air with the scent of apples.

As she lathered up and began to smooth the sudsy mesh over her body, she decided she had to stop being so irresponsible. Tawna had been right last night – she needed to stop leading Jon on and reign herself in, no matter how much the man teased her emotions and hormones. He was as sexy as anything and the fantasy of a million women, and Erin had to admit that she’d much prefer to keep him all to herself – and damn, the fact that he wanted her too made her pulse quicken at the very thought.

But it was wrong. She was a taken woman, dating another man, and she was disgusted with herself every time she realized that despite every way she thought of to sugarcoat it, the fact remained that she was cheating. There was only one way to remedy that: pick a side.

Erin knew which side she wanted. It came in the form of blonde, muscled, and tan, with a voice that sent shivers up her spine and eyes that made her knees buckle with one gaze upon her. Max just simply did not, and could not, compare. While it seemed shallow to pick sides based on which man gave her better sex, the truth was that Erin was done with Max. She’d never really seen a future with him, and his clingy possessive nature was becoming more and more annoying. He was a nice guy, and he really hadn’t done anything wrong, which led Erin back to the guilt trip. But sometimes relationships just didn’t work out. It was trial and error…and Max had ended in error.

Erin reached for the bottle of shampoo on the caddy rack and frowned when it produced barely enough shampoo to work up a lather. Sighing rather huffily, she pulled back the curtain to retrieve a new bottle from under the sink. She was met by the sight of Jon, standing fully bare, in the doorway, and she started.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Hi, I had no idea you were there.” She shrank slightly behind the curtain and looked at him expectantly. “Did you just wake up?”

Jon nodded, looking ridiculously cute to Erin with his tousled hair and sleepy eyes. “Yeah. I didn’t mean to scare you, but I heard the water running and the thought of you in here naked by yourself was too good to pass up.” He grinned and closed the door behind him. “Mind if I join you?”

Erin hesitated, her train of thought entirely thrown off by the sight of him standing there. Her blood began to race again and she mentally smacked herself around a bit, lecturing herself fiercely before the devil in her took over and decided that she’d have a bit more fun before it was time to be responsible. “I, uh, sure…I mean, of course…” she smiled, and recomposed quickly. “But first you need to get me some more shampoo – it’s under the sink.”

Jon retrieved the bottle and Erin stepped aside to let him in. Setting the bottle down on the tiled floor, he shivered delightfully at the hot water raining down on his back, and immediately reached out for her. Wrapping his arms around her, he snaked a hand up her back and behind her head to pull her face closer to his.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he smiled against her lips before he kissed them fully. Erin melted against their softness; after the intensity of their passion, the simplest of kisses was luxuriously decadent.

“So have you already washed up, or do I get the pleasure of doing it for you?” Jon’s eyes sparkled, and Erin nearly lied outright just for the sake of feeling his hands over her wet body. Instead, she nodded slyly.

“Sorry, Slick, but I’ve already had the pleasure. I was about to wash my hair when you so rudely interrupted my private time.” She tried not to smile, but failed. Forever the tease, she kneeled down to pick up the shampoo bottle and took her time rising up again, enjoying the view of the full length of his body as she did so.

Jon watched her with amusement: such a playful, beautiful and naughty thing she was. When she was face level with him again, he wordlessly reached for the shampoo and squirted some into his hand. “Turn around,” he instructed.

Erin did as told and closed her eyes when she felt his fingers gently massaging her scalp. He worked the lather through her hair to the roots and trailed down to the ends where they clung to her back, his fingertips on her skin sending shivers up her spine. The scent of oranges filled the steamy room, reminding Erin of the first time Jon had stayed until morning.

She allowed him to take his time as he finished the job, lovingly sifting through her thick blonde tresses as he rinsed them with the cascading stream of water. Finally she turned around and grabbed the shampoo, “My turn.”

She returned the simple favor, gently lathering and rinsing his beautiful hair as he sighed contentedly. She found an odd and deep satisfaction in the ability to give him such comforting pleasure: it was one thing to blow his mind in bed, but to be able to touch upon this sensitive, sensual side was almost more rewarding.

They continued in this vein for some time, allowing the room to grow heavy with steam before their play turned serious. As desire overtook them both again, Jon pressed Erin against the shower wall and crushed his mouth down on hers, his tongue begging entry. She accepted him willingly, and they kissed forcefully for a minute or so before Jon lifted her into his arms. In mimicry of their tryst in the clubroom, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he entered her, immediately setting off her labored breathing.

He drove into her until she cried out his name, shuddering between his body and the hard wall behind her. He held her more tightly, trembling as his own climax overtook him and he joined her in ecstasy, moaning her name in her ear. “God, Erin,” he breathed. “You’re incredible…”

Erin ignored the gnawing feeling at the back of her mind and wrapped her arms around his shoulders more tightly, kissing the soft skin.

They stood for a bit before detangling themselves from each other and relaxing their tensed bodies. Erin shut off the water and they took turns drying each other off with the soft towel she retrieved from the linen closet, continuing their play from before.

When they were dry, Jon dressed in his clothes from the night prior, and Erin wrapped herself in a plush robe hanging off the back of the door before disappearing into her closet to find something to wear.

Realizing that she hadn’t eaten since the previous afternoon, she called from the depths of her clothes, “Hungry?”

“Hell yeah," Jon replied. "You worked up an appetite in me, woman."

“Good,” she replied, emerging from the closet with her outfit of choice and throwing it on the bed. “Because I’m starved.”

“If you tell me where the breakfast fixin’s are, I’ll whip something delicious up,” Jon tempted.

“God, sexy and knows how to cook? Where have you been hiding all my life?”

Jon grinned. “Too far from where you were hiding from mine,” he replied, kissing her lightly and leaving the room. “I’ll find something and surprise you.”

“Thanks!” Erin called after him. She stood for a moment, watching his retreating figure. A mixed emotion of guilt and pleasure burned in her gut, and she sighed heavily before reaching for her clothes.

Twenty minutes later, the smell of eggs and bacon frying wafted up to Erin’s bedroom and her stomach gurgled again. Following the delicious smell downstairs, she found Jon at her stove, flipping bacon strips and eggs in a pan.

He looked up as she walked in and his eyes widened slightly. She had chosen a black turtleneck that hugged her curves and clung to her flat abdomen, setting off the long blonde hair that cascaded down her back freely. Her jeans showed off her hips and butt, and ended in socked feet that made her look comfortably casual and sexy at the same time. Jon whistled.

“You look beautiful.”

Erin smiled, “Thanks. This smells incredible!”

Jon flipped off the gas stove. “You’re just in time, too,” he said as he plated the food and brought it over to the table. “Breakfast is served.”

“Thank God, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last.” Erin teased as she hungrily started on the steaming bacon.

They ate until they had their fill, talking and laughing with each other like the first time. The time passed easily, neither of them paying attention until Jon reluctantly voiced that he had to get going. “I’ve got a meeting with Richie this afternoon, and he’ll kill me if I’m late. I should really get home and catch up on some work beforehand.”

Erin nodded. “It’s okay, I understand. Duty calls,” she winked.

Jon bent and kissed her deeply before reaching for his coat and keys. “Thanks again, baby. I’ll call you, okay?”

Erin smiled. “You better.”

She walked him to the door and closed it behind him, smiling to herself, before returning to the dining room to clear the breakfast dishes.

She jerked her head toward the window a minute later, however, when she heard his strangled yell. Hurrying outside, she saw him staring at something on the driver’s side of the car, cursing in disbelief. “What the fuck?!”

“What’s the matter?” Erin rounded the hood of the Aston Martin and stopped dead, her eyes widening in horror. She clapped her hand to her mouth and sucked in a breath at the awful sight that met her: both tires on the beautiful car had been slashed flat, and from hood to bumper, long, jagged scratches were etched into the sleek black paint.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Chapter Twelve

Max stared, unblinking, at the mass of liquor bottles lined up on the shelves behind the bar. His mind was clicking and whirring, a thousand thoughts swirling at the same time, and he barely registered the movement to his right as the man slid into the seat next to him. He glanced sideways and set down his glass on the bar table. When he spoke, his voice was clipped. “Well?”

The man didn’t look at him. “You’re not going to believe this.”

Max raised an eyebrow.

“She’s with a celebrity. That blonde rock star– Bon Jovi.”

The color in Max’s face drained rapidly. “What?!”

“Yeah. I was pretty surprised myself.”

Max stared. “Bon Jovi. Bon Jovi? Are you sure?”

“Pretty positive. I got a good look at him face-on.” The man signaled the bartender and ordered a scotch.

Max blanched. “What the hell is she doing with him? And what the hell is he doing with her?” he asked, talking more to himself than anyone.

The man shrugged. “How should I know? But he interrupted us within ten seconds. Seems a bit territorial.”

“He’s a rock star, you idiot,” Max snarled. “Of course he’d be territorial. There’s only one thing rock stars want from women like her,” he stared at the dance floor, rage welling up inside him. “Where are they now?”

“No idea,” the man shrugged again.

“What do you mean, ‘no idea’? I’m not paying you to have no idea – where the fuck are they?” the color in Max’s face was returning, a deep crimson that made him frightening.

“Look man, that wasn’t part of the job,” the man retorted. “I danced with her, I saw who her date was, I reported back to you. Give me my twenty bucks and finish your own dirty work.”

Max’s eyes narrowed. He considered slugging the guy in the face, but knew better than to make a scene. Instead, he shoved a twenty at him and left without a word.

As he slunk around the back of the club, he adjusted his baseball cap and sunglasses, his mind reeling with what he’d learned. Jon Bon Jovi? Seriously?

The guy must have been drunker than he thought when Max had found him at the bar. He’d had to find someone halfway decent looking to approach Erin if he wanted her date to feel the least bit threatened. The guy hadn’t been the movie star type, but he’d been willing to do the job and Max couldn’t be too picky.

He knew for a fact now that Erin was hanging around with another guy: it didn’t take a genius to figure that out when the black Aston Martin had pulled up outside her house again tonight at seven o’clock sharp. It had been too dark for Max, from his vantage point, to discern the silhouette that emerged from the car and waltzed up the walk to Erin’s door, but he knew instantly he didn’t like the stranger’s cocky swagger. A minute later, he watched as the stranger opened the car door for Erin and hopped into the driver’s seat, and when they pulled away from the curb, Max waited a few seconds before flipping on his low beams and following them at a distance around the corner.

A block away from Club Rocket, once he saw that they were indeed headed for the dance lounge, Max pulled into a neighborhood and parked along the street. He pulled out a baseball cap he’d recently bought – Erin hadn’t seen it yet – and donned it, then adjusted a pair of black sunglasses over his eyes before he casually displayed his VIP card to the giant bouncer outside the club.

He wasn’t about to wait in the line for the main entrance, especially since he could gain access to both parts of the club by entering the VIP lounge first. That, and the VIP lounge was frequented by celebrities and other club goers who wanted to remain anonymous; his disguise wouldn’t be questioned.

He’d lurked in the shadows at the back of the lounge while his eyes scanned the enormous room. When he finally found Erin, she was alone on the dance floor. Max furrowed his brow; he had been hoping to discover her mystery date’s identity. But he amused himself for a moment as he watched Erin move to the music, surrounded by throngs of people all bumping and grinding against her.

He moved cautiously over to the bar, keeping an eye on Erin in case she decided to refresh herself from her exercise. He could tell her date wasn’t out on the dance floor with her: she either ignored or casually interacted with the few men that were dancing. A tic of annoyance pulsed in Max’s jaw, and he decided to take matters into his own hands.

It was then that he found the man sitting at the bar, and casually approached him, asking if he wouldn’t mind doing a brother a favor…for twenty green ones.

He had been given one simple instruction: “See that blonde in the brown top, dancing over on the floor? Long blonde hair, tight jeans? She’s here with someone. I need you to go ask her to dance, and if and when her date comes up, back off and leave immediately. But tell me who the guy is. I need to know what he looks like.”

The guy had grinned like the weasel he was, and Max watched out of the corner of his eye as he sidled over to the dance floor and found his way up to Erin. They were on the edge of the dance floor by then, however, and Max had to look away, keeping his back to them under cover of his shades and cap, in case Erin looked over his way. Unfortunately that way he hadn’t been able to see who interrupted them, and he now had to take the weasel’s word that it was Jon Bon Jovi.

Max snorted as he shoved open the door and stepped outside. Only then did it occur to him that the guy was probably lying through his teeth, feeding a stranger some bullshit story to get his offered money.

Max stormed down the street and got into his car, slamming the door behind him. He threw the cap and shades into the passenger seat and stared hard at the club exit. The black Aston Martin wasn’t hard to miss; there weren’t too many of them in the area, and he planned on waiting until he saw it leave.

Max’s thoughts began reeling again as he humored the idea that perhaps Erin was with Bon Jovi. What in the world was the guy doing with her? Sure, she was sexy as hell, but she wasn’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box…

Max’s heart skipped a beat as he answered his own question. There’s only one thing rock stars want from women like her…

Max clenched his fists and fought the urge to march back inside and beat the hell out of whoever the guy was, rock star or not. The weasel didn’t know where they were, and he couldn’t go blindly searching for them and risk them finding him first.

Lord only knew where they were – and what they were doing – right now…


Back in the privacy of the clubroom, Jon walked over to Erin and stood in front of her.

“These need to go,” he muttered, reaching down and sliding her jeans the rest of the way off her body. Erin reached up and returned the favor, tugging his snug jeans down and admiring his muscled legs. She noticed Jon was in a compromising position, standing in front of her while she sat on the bed, but he didn’t make any move to change that. And he was already excited again, she noticed. Erin looked up at him through heavy eyes and placed her hands on his hips, pulling her toward her. Perfect height, she thought.

She took him into her mouth slowly, tasting the salty mixture of his earlier release and swirling her tongue around languidly. Jon sucked in a breath and leaned his head back, his strong chest rising up and down in time as he inhaled and exhaled. Erin worked him expertly, her tongue pushing him to the edge and then bringing him back down slowly as she alternated pressure and suction. She loved the taste of him, a primal privilege that she alone could enjoy for this moment in time – no one else in the world was able to experience what she was right then. It was unique and special, and she took advantage of it until he was breathing hard and writhing.

Jon snaked his fingers through Erin’s soft blonde hair and gripped, pushing her head gently toward him in the desire for her to take him deeper. She obliged, and relaxing her throat enough to allow him access, she took him to his base. He nearly yelled out then, trembling and blind with lust as he fought the urge to come again in her mouth.

Erin released him instantly, bringing him abruptly down from his edge and smiling evilly. Jon looked down at her with wild eyes, panting out of breath. “Are you serious?!” he moaned. “Fuck, Erin…you’re one hell of an evil woman, you know that?”

Erin stood and pressed her body into his, feeling his quivering arousal hard against her hip. “So I’ve been told,” she purred, wrapping her arms around him and biting his chin lightly. Jon dipped his head and met her mouth with his, tasting himself on her lips and tongue.

Erin moaned as their bodies pressed together again, Jon’s skin searing on hers, overwhelmingly tempting. She leaned backward over the bed and lowered herself down, bringing him with her. The feel of his weight and body on top of hers was deliciously sensual, and she wrapped her legs once more tightly around his waist, pressing his hardness right into her center. Jon placed both his hands on the bed next to her and lifted himself up slightly as he continued to kiss her deeply.

Erin was ready to burst when he finally burrowed his way inside her, their hips meeting and pressing together tightly as he worked his way as deeply as physically possible. Erin’s breath caught in her throat and she gasped, unable to make a sound for a moment as Jon reached the end of her, paused for a second, then began to slide in and out, hard. They moved in unison, their bodies as one, blood racing through their veins and skin wet with perspiration as Jon clenched his teeth once again against his quick release.

They screamed out together this time, Jon collapsing over Erin as she trembled beneath him, both out of breath. Erin laughed lightly as a second wave overtook her body, and she shivered with delight. Jon kissed her ear and rolled off of her.

They lay next to each other for a moment, willing their hearts to slow down and their breathing to return to normal, before Jon sat up and began pulling on his jeans. “Come on baby,” he smiled. “What do you say we go back to your place?”

Erin leisurely got off the bed and stretched before him, allowing him the pleasure of seeing her entire naked body. She smiled coyly. “I say that’s a fantastic idea.”

She pulled on her clothes slowly as he watched, his eyes smoldering once again. When she was finished, she made her way over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Kissing him gently, she met his eyes.

“I need more of you,” she said bluntly. “That wasn’t enough.”

Her hunger was insatiable.

Jon stared at her in disbelief as he felt himself becoming aroused again. He had never met a woman who could do that to him. Ever. It was almost dizzying, the relentless cycle of passion he was experiencing tonight, and he planned on taking full advantage of it.

He nodded and grabbed his coat and wallet from the bench while she scurried to the mirror and did a once-over. “Oh my God,” she giggled. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what I’ve been doing.” She finger-combed her hair and touched up her makeup quickly before slinging her purse over her shoulder.

Jon grinned and held open the door for her. “Don’t worry, everyone looks a little fucked around when they leave this place – at least you look sober.” He winked as she passed him, laughing. He returned the key to the hook by the door and ushered her back to the main club, both trying to look inconspicuous as they made their way outside.

Jon handed the ticket to the valet and they waited as he brought the car around, neither speaking as they attempted to appear normal. It was cold outside, and Erin adjusted her coat around her self-consciously. Jon caught a glimpse of Bear as he stopped a couple attempting access to the club: a busty brunette clad in the tightest leather dress she could probably squeeze into and four-inch high heels, flanked by her date, who had his coat slung over his shoulder in an obvious attempt to be “cool” and a white shirt that lay unbuttoned halfway down his chest. He was a good six inches shorter than the brunette, and he looked pompously smug as he flashed an ID card at Bear. Jon suppressed a snort as the burly bouncer let them in, rolling his eyes behind them.

Erin looked over at Jon and saw an odd half-smile playing on his lips. “What?” she asked quietly. Jon shook his head, still smiling. “Nothing. I’m just wondering who’ll take over our room now that it’s vacant.”

Erin blushed and swatted his arm playfully as the valet pulled up with the car. Jon handed him a ten and thanked him, and they pulled out into the street a moment later. As Jon drove a bit too fast down the street in his hurry, Erin was too busy fumbling with her purse to notice a familiar car pull out of a nearby neighborhood behind them.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

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