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