Chapter Fifty Two

Richie let the door to his room close quietly behind him, thankful that the Madison Square Garden DVD was nearing completion.  God knew he had been more than ready to leave the studio after another long day spent dealing with Jon and his perfectionist tendencies.   By the time they’d finished for the day, Richie was ready for an evening out with Rachel, whom Richie had affectionately referred to all day as “The Neighbor”.  Partly because it would certainly lessen his friend’s anal retentive mood, and partly because it turned out Jon’s latest flavour of the month was a gal Richie enjoyed hanging out with.

 

At the restaurant tonight, Rachel had proven she was capable of an actual conversation, an intelligent conversation no less, and while she’d been interested in getting to know him, never once was there a hint of flirtation.  She was obviously familiar with and fond of Jon, but she had scarcely paid him any attention, focusing most of it on Richie himself.  When the subject of the holidays had come up, he’d told her of his plans to spend Thanksgiving in California with his ex-wife AND her new boyfriend for the sake of their daughter. “The Neighbor” had been impressed with Richie’s efforts to maintain good relations with his former in-laws, and took the opportunity to reveal that her holiday plans mirrored his.

  

Relaxed by the vats of wine that had flowed freely throughout their dinner and the ensuing evening back at the house, Jon had been content to sit back and allow the other two to carry the conversation for the most part.  That is, until Rachel’s casual declaration that she was spending Thanksgiving with her late husband’s family. Richie saw the familiar blue eyes snap sharply to life from across the table, knowing that his friend was completely blind sided by the blonde’s holiday plans. Or didn't approve of them. Or both. 

Sometimes, Richie was grateful to crawl in bed alone at the end of the evening.  Nobody to hold him accountable. Nobody to chastise him for having had too much to drink. Nobody to hassle him about his holiday plans with the ex. Richie knew what was ahead of him tonight: a hot shower, a warm bed and a reasonably peaceful night’s sleep. He also knew that Rachel’s night might not be nearly so simple or pleasant. After thirty years, he could read Jon’s body language as easily as the articles in Playboy, and tonight’s article was short and sweet. Jon wasn't on board with “The Neighbor’s” Thanksgiving plans. Not even close. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I didn't know you planned to go back to California for the holidays. I assumed we’d spend them together.” 

Jon had just stepped out of shower, while Rachel had done the same from the bathtub. As soon as they’d gotten home from dinner with Richie, she’d filled the immense tub to enjoy a long soak while Jon called his kids and checked out with them for the night. Now they were finishing up their nightly routine, which had become…routine. She took a bath. He took a shower. He took the pillows off the bed while she hung up his towel, which he never managed to do, instead simply leaving it on the floor. Night after night they stood in the marble bathroom together sharing moments from their day. It was almost always a playful time as they maneuvered around each other, their nakedness sometimes getting in the way of their best intentions to make it to bed early.  

“This kinda goes back to our conversation last night….I can’t read your mind, sweetie. If you want me to know what’s going on in there you have to tell me,” Rachel teased as she squeezed the toothpaste onto her toothbrush, then handed the tube off to Jon.

Loading his own toothbrush with the paste, Jon considered the best way to approach the conversation.  A few minutes of brushing and the silence in the bathroom broken only by the sounds of water and the swooshing of teeth being brushed, he decided the direct approach would be the best. He spit into the sink and, without bothering to rinse or wipe his mouth, declared matter-of-factly, 

“Okay, I want you here, with me, for the holidays. How’s that?” 

Bending to rinse, he then wiped the residual water from his mouth with the back of his hand and looked into the mirror. It was time for his favourite show. 

Rachel pumped the body lotion into her palm, rubbing her hands together to make the creamy concoction easier to distribute evenly over her skin. He knew next she’d lift her leg onto the side of the bathtub and rub the lotion over it in a small movement that always did something to him. The way her body moved in that position made her almost irresistible to him.  

“Have you thought that through?” she asked absently, completely unaware of how this particular ritual captivated him.  “If I were in your shoes, having children, I'm not sure I’d want the new boyfriend involved in my family holidays until things were… further along.”

She didn't pause from her after bath routine, gracefully switching from one leg to the other, and Jon paused to prop his naked butt against the marble counter top not wanting to miss a minute of the erotically innocent show taking place in her bathroom.  

“I dunno, Rachel. Do you see this thing between us as temporary? Because I don’t. If I did, I’d never have involved my kids in the first place.”  

As unconcerned with his nudity as she was, he crossed his legs at the ankles and arms across his chest, getting comfortable. It wouldn't be long before she would move on to slathering her arms. After that – thank you Jesus – she would run her hands over her breasts, carefully applying that lotion over each fleshy swell, paying extra attention to the aureoles and nipples. It was his favourite part of the ritual.

She never glanced up, and offered him only the slightest of shrugs.

"I'm not much of a future planner these days. I live more in the moment than I used to."

Jon was puzzled by her response, enough to distract him from the show she unconsciously performed.    He frowned at the contradiction in how she’d described her past life and what she was telling him now.

 

“You said you had your future planned out and that you and Nick always had a ‘life plan’….”

“But I also told you that when he and the kids died the future was a black hole. I don’t want to plan my future around you, not knowing what you have in mind. It’s not something we've ever talked about.”

Blending the last of the body lotion into her hands and arms, she cut him only the briefest of glances as she moved onto the next phase of her routine. The porn factor of her post-bath ritual was gone once she started with all the lotions and potions she used on her face and neck. But it wasn't the lack of porn factor that had Jon wondering if she intentionally avoided touching him as she returned to the sink to start on the boring stuff. 

“What do you have in mind for us, Rach?”

His question hung in the air while she silently went through the army of little jars and bottles one after the other. The last of the cream was carefully dabbed around her eyes, and Jon knew she’d cap the tube and drop it into the drawer. She would complete her beauty regimen with a final wipe down of the counter top. Impatient for her answer, he nonetheless was aware of the difference when something in her body language changed as she crossed the room and came to a stop in front of him.

Rachel’s shoulders were noticeably more relaxed and when she tipped her face to his, Jon could see her eyes held their familiar affection for him.  She was free of make up and took on a look of fragility that reflected the events of her life and loss in recent years. But in that was an innocence that Jon couldn't get enough of. Her hands ran down his stomach and traced the “V” along the region, a body part she’d shown particular favoritism to.

“Right now, the only thing I have in mind for us is seeing how many times you can make me come tonight.”

Jon cuffed her wrists and offered a token whisper of a kiss before bringing her hands down his sides and wound his fingers with hers.

“I’ll make you come until you don’t think you have anything left. And then I want one more.”

Jon wasn't sure if it was relief that she’d gotten away with changing the subject, or just plain desire that flashed through her eyes. Rachel never uttered a word when she leaned closer to press his leg between hers. Whatever it was he saw in her eyes a second ago, the meaning was crystal clear now.

Their good friend lust had just stepped into the room, intent upon taking over body, mind and soul.

That happened a lot. 

It had happened the previous night too, when Jon had tried to talk with her about all the red flags Richie had waved at him. But then Rachel had slipped her leg between his and it all went downhill from there. The sex was as physical and intense as it always was; Jon had no problem with that. He just wanted to be able to finish his thought before tonight turned into another sweat-drenched, bed-thrashed fuckfest.

The nip he gave her bottom lip was meant to soften his temporary rebuff at her advances. 

“All that can wait. It hasn't escaped my attention you’re adept at changing the subject or distracting me with this lovely body of yours when a subject comes up you’re not comfortable with. It’s been like that from the beginning with us, Rach. I let you get by with it most of the time. Sometimes because I don’t want to fight with you…sometimes because the temptations of your body are more than I care to resist.”

He watched her chest and neck turn red, knowing it only happened when she was completely turned on or completely nervous. Jon had seen her nervous only a time or two, but he was pretty sure the flush wasn't the passionate kind he’d witnessed plenty of times.

“It’s a simple question, Rachel. What do you see happening with us?”

The voice she spoke with was louder; the limbs he still held were stiffer than his when she answered his question.

“I… I ….. don’t even know how you feel about me. How am I supposed to respond to that?”

“I just told you how I feel about you, Rach.”

He could see she was agitated as she stepped back from him and reached for her robe, the movement passively forcing him to release one of her wrists. 

 

“No. You didn't tell me how you feel about ME, Jon. You told me you wanted me to disregard my family traditions for the holidays so you can have everything your way.”

He sensed that she was scrambling to cover herself with the robe, uncomfortable with the conversation and seeking the protection of clothing. 

“Stop.” He didn't vary the soft tone he’d been using for the entire conversation when he took the robe from her and tossed it to the floor. He pulled her still-naked body into his and gingerly locked her within the confines of his arms. “This is just us.  There’s not an inch of your body I've not touched. Talking about what you’re feeling isn't something to make you squirm away or hide from me.”

Instead of comforting or relaxing her, his gentle hold only added to her nervous edge, evidenced by her rolled eyes and huffed breath. 

“ I'm SO not in the mood to fight with you tonight.”

Jon could see his current approach wasn't going to take him where he wanted to go. Rachel wasn't a passive woman and he knew that. He liked her that way. They were a lot alike in many ways. Both were used to being large and in charge but, in their relationship, she had always been the softer of them. Unless you backed her in a corner and trapped her like an animal which, by the look in her eyes, was exactly how she was feeling now. 

“Then don’t……..”

Jon wound his arms around her hips, his fingers lazily roaming the hills and valleys of her curves on a journey of distraction. Each tease of an erogenous zone was meant to tell her she wasn't a hunted animal that had to fight for her life, and that he wasn't interested in stealing her soul – the essence of who she was. Tossing in his puppy-dog eyes with matching boyish grin, he hoped to offset her tension.

“Rach, don’t make me get you drunk enough or turned on enough to tell me what I want to know. I’d rather you make a conscious decision to talk than to have to torture you for information.”

The minute she put her hands on his chest and sighed, he knew it was the right way to steer the conversation.

“That might be preferable….and definitely more comfortable.” Rachel slid her hands up to Jon’s shoulders and let her fingers absently play with the hair behind his ear before kissing up and down his neck. “ I'm not exactly a touchy/feely kind of girl…. I'm not going to spend hours on end talking about my feelings. I like you, you like me, we have hot sex….it works for me.”

The hunter becomes the prey. 

Jon saw her attempts to sway their talk back to the bedroom from a mile away, and he knew at that point Rachel wasn't going to go down the ‘relationship talk’ road willingly. She was good, he’d give her that.  She could negotiate and maneuver better than his own attorneys. It was now up to him to find a way to out-manuever her. He had two choices: He could push her or he could pull her. Pushing was going to end badly, because she would only push back harder and probably louder.  Pulling her, on the other hand…that might get him what he wanted.

It was time to play the “turn you on” card. 

I warned you, sweetheart.

“BULLSHIT,” was hissed into Rachel’s ear when he grasped her ass with one hand and the nape of her neck with the other. He pulled her close enough to feel her nipples pebble from the friction of his chest hair. A nibble here and there along her neck, jaw and chin would short circuit any attempts she had at rational thinking. Jon had learned that little morsel early on in their relationship. The only sound he heard her make was to suck the air through her teeth.

“You reveal yourself when you don’t think about it,” he murmured against her neck. “You just said you didn't know how I felt about you – and then you tried to steer this conversation in another direction. Sometimes I think you pick a fight with me to avoid me.” 

Jon felt Rachel pull her neck away from his tongue and lean her head back. He had wound his body so completely around hers that her head was the only thing she could move. Knowing she needed space, he loosened his hold on her hips just enough to catch her breath and gather herself enough to finally speak.

“You make me feel like I'm on the ledge and you just expect me to step off and have blind faith you’ll catch me before I hit the ground. That’s a lot of trust with nothing guaranteed back to me.”

Progress, baby……. keep talking to me.

Jon let one hand wander softly up her side and across the outside of her breast. The pad of his thumb barely brushed across the nipple, stiffening it even further. Rachel’s fluttered eyelashes and sharply inhaled breath spurred him to delicately bring her earlobe into his mouth before whispering,

“You know exactly how I feel about you.  You've known for a long time, haven’t you, baby?”

Jon felt her body more fully relax and tense…… all at the same time. It was classic Rachel in full-blown sexual mode. Her lower body would become more pliable to his hands while her upper body would become more rigid. Her hands would almost always find their way to the bounty of hair at the back of his head and when she greedily grabbed hold, Jon knew she was beyond controlling her actions. He hoped the same would apply to her thoughts. 

“If I say the words, will it freak you out and make you run?”

His head was pulled down to Rachel’s mouth for a breathy, hungry kiss, "....Never…run from you.”

Jon wasn't sure which was the actual cause of his body responding to her. Was it her writhing and pawing? Or the ego-driven sense of power at being able to manipulate her INTO the writhing and the pawing?

“You’d never run because you love the sex that much, or you love me that much?”

“Mmm hmm…” was her muttered response in between sucking, licking and kissing every part of him that she could get close to.

Christ! She’s tougher to break than I thought.

His barely-there finger between her legs took things up a notch. She wanted more, and Jon refused to give it until he got some answers from her.

“Do you want marriage and the white picket fence…is that what you want?”

Rachel tugged at his hair and moaned, “….Just…this…forever…”

His torture continuing, Jon scraped her clit with the side of this thumb, “This? Or us? What do you want, baby?” 

“Us…...you ..…. just you.”

He rewarded her immediate answer with a greedy finger, slipping easily inside her. “Could you wake up every day with me?”

Jon couldn't see her eyes, they were closed tightly when she threw her head back and hissed, “Mmm…oh God, yes….”

That’s it, sweetheart….keep it up.

“Your perfect life with me…what is it? Paint it for me.”

Jon slipped the second finger into her and pulled forward, rubbing the rough patch inside her that he could count on to send her into another dimension.

“You...me…a family…always,” was her uninhibited reply just after she bit down on his shoulder.

Jon couldn't have been more turned on than he was by the primal response. It was the first time she’d sunk her teeth into him and damn if he didn't like it. Restraining himself enough to finish his interrogation left him short of breath right along with her. 

“Always, baby? You want us for always?”

“…Always.” 

The intense redness of her chest combined with the momentary limpness of her neck was a sure sign she was about to come. Jon had seen that move countless times. It would be quickly followed by a stiffening and a mind-clearing orgasm if he didn't scale things back. He left his fingers inside her, but lessened their movement and put just enough distance between them so that her nipples no longer dug into his chest. 

Jon was turned on. Not like she was…not to the point of blind rambling, but seeing her like this was a first. The only reason he could maintain any control over himself was his determination to bring Rachel to a full awareness and admission of her own feelings.

 

“What else, Rach? Tell me your wildest thoughts. Babies….do you want babies with me?” He heard the words leaping out of his mouth, not knowing where they came from, nearly as lost in the moment as she was.

“Mm, yes…babies….lots of babies….and you….all of it.” 

Jon wasn't sure if he had backed her to the bed, or if she had drug him to the bed – the details were lost on him. 

 

Not that it mattered to either of them when he ran the tip of his dick through her slickness and then across her clit. Rachel had told him once that this particular technique would be more effective with her than water-boarding. It proved to be near-fatal for him. 

He had always loved sex with her, always enjoyed watching her get lost in the act. But he was usually a more equal participant. The restraint he was exercising during this encounter allowed him to see a different part of Rachel that was more captivating than anything he’d seen in her before.  He couldn't take his eyes off her, mentally comparing her to some natural wonder….a falling star, a meteor shower….the Northern Lights. Something exquisite and rare. 

“Lots of babies, huh?”

Rachel was virtually clawing at him when she purred, “Mm…lots of beautiful babies. This…need you ….. inside me”. 

With one thrust, Jon buried himself inside her, causing her to buck up and throw her head back all in one swift movement. Her bare neck thrust itself to his lips and his teeth grazed the side of her throat.

“Like that? Is that what you need, baby?”

“Just….just…like that….right there…”

He wanted to put them both out of their misery; Jon knew she was one thrust away from the full-blown orgasm that would seal the passageway between her thoughts and her voice. He still hadn't heard what he wanted to hear, and with that uppermost in his mind, he slowed. The change in tempo was enough to bring a panting Rachel’s eyes open, their depths pained with longing as they met his.

  

“Can you love me forever…will I be enough?”

Her mouth met his and between kisses she uttered, “You’re always enough…always.”

The desire he felt for her at that moment swept through him with the heat and intensity of a California wildfire.

“Say it baby….I wanna hear you say it.”

His slower pace only seemed to wind Rachel up another notch.  The thrashing of her head side to side was definitive proof that she was fighting to retain control of her mind and her body. 

“Mm….I want on top.”

No way, baby.  You’re right where I want you.  If I don’t break you now, I never will.

"Don’t fight it, Rachel. I swear to God you won’t hit the ground….jump off that ledge.”

Her thrashing was like watching an exorcism. It was almost painful to watch her fight against herself as the last of her barriers wanted to crumble, exposing her heart and soul. Her cries bordered on pitiful.

“Jesus, Rach…let go!”

Jon pulled out of her and immediately slid his body down the bed. Shouldering her thighs wide, he pushed in to wind his tongue around the pearl-sized nub that was his best shot at detonating those barriers. Her thrashing was now taking over her entire body and Jon grabbed her hips with both hands to still her. Gazing intently up the length of her torso, he watched the graceful point of her chin wave through the air with each forceful toss of her head. She was so close - why wouldn't she let go?

“Jump, Goddammit!” 

She had the strength of ten men when she broke through his grip and forced her hips back to his mouth, moaning “Oh god… Mmn…I love you.  I love you like I've never loved anyone else…ever…not ever, Jon.”

When he could feel her return to a more relaxed state, Jon moved slowly up her body, kissing the top of each thigh. He ran his finger across her C-section scar before he moved further up to give each pink nipple a gentle swipe with his tongue. Entering her without fanfare, he noted she was more physically spent than after the most rigorous of workouts. When her eyes fluttered open, she offered a silent smile and gentle kiss as he adjusted his forearms to hover above her.

“Was it really that hard to say the words?  You've shown me for months that you love me. I've felt it, just like I know you've felt it from me.”

She still said nothing; breathing was her only audible sound as Jon kissed her neck and chest.

“You’re one of a kind, Rachel. I’d chase you to the ends of the earth.” Jon smirked against her sternum. “So there’s no point in running….” 

While Rachel widened her eyes and showed an alertness that had been absent, she still didn't utter a word.

A tenderness crept between them as Jon’s fingers eased into the hair at her temples, “I don’t know that I can give you all the things you want or deserve….but I know I’ll love you the rest of my life.  There will never be another woman who fills me the way you do. There never has been.”

Rachel’s fingernails absently tickled through the hair above his ears before she pulled him toward her for a slow, soft kiss. “You love me?” she murmured when the kiss broke.

“I love you. I swear to God I’ll always love you. When I'm a hundred years old, I’ll love you then, too.”

Now comfortable that his soul had been laid bare and she wasn't going to run, it was time to lighten the tone.  Jon knew she’d ’done’ all the seriousness she was capable of in one night. He needed to let her get back into her comfort zone and acclimate to the turn their relationship had just taken.

 

It was time to just fuck.

Rachel’s gasp when he pinned her arms above her head brought forth a carnal grin from him. It was clearly a grin she was familiar with, as her eyes flashed with renewed lust. When he thrust upward inside her, he stilled to let her body find its place around him and asked, “And when you’re a hundred years old, you’ll still want to have wild sex all night long with me, right?”

The lessened intensity of the moment manifested itself in Rachel’s closed eyes, relaxed body, lascivious wiggle and her whispered, “Mmm…I love that you love it as much as I do.” 

Jon felt her smooth leg wind around his, and then she twisted her body, rolling them over so that she was on top. Her fingers linked with his and she stretched up like a sleepy kitten and began to slowly grind against him in a sensual rocking motion. The subtle aging caused by grief that he had noticed earlier in her face seemed to have been replaced with peaceful tranquility. A contented sigh escaped her lips when she bent to kiss the hollow of his neck and he felt her bring her knees along his sides. She ran her tongue across his nipple and abruptly sat up, her face scrunched in worry.

“Jon…now that we've said the “L” word…we don’t actually have to ‘make love’…do we?”

His laughing outburst at her disdain for ‘making love’ was quickly overshadowed by his separation of their hands. He placed them roughly on her hips, forcing her body further down as he bucked upward.

“Gawd no! We’ll fuck as hard when we’re a hundred as we did the first night.”

And that night ended as most others did: sweaty bodies mingled with thrashed sheets and blankets, exhaustion forcing them to sleep wherever they fell. The only difference on this cold November night was the closing hole of Rachel’s heart as Jon whispered, “Aw, Rach…love you so much, baby.” 

Wrapped around the man she’d finally given all of herself to, Rachel drifted into a peaceful sleep.  For the first time since she’d landed in New Jersey, she felt whole.