Chapter 67

As she flipped through the new goodies hanging in the master closet, Rachel felt as spoiled as any celebrity debutante.  You would think today was her Sweet Sixteen rather than what should be a non-eventful 42nd birthday for a grown woman.

The day had begun sweetly and simply when Jon woke her this morning with a softly crooned rendition of Happy Birthday.  From there, the dollar signs had begun to mount and, despite all her protests, he  shuffled her off to one of the city’s most posh salons where she was lavished with all the classic spa treatments. 

Once she had been pampered beyond all reason, she was treated to a private presentation of some of the most exquisite designer dresses ever created.  That presentation had become a shopping spree of epic proportions when he insisted she buy his favorites of the lot.  After all, it was only seven.  Who didn’t need seven luxury gowns?  But that wasn't enough.  He then threw out the casual command to add on three more of the exquisite creations that she had tagged as her favorites along with shoes, handbags and sexy underthings to match them all.

The most difficult thing about her day was deciding which of her birthday gifts to wear to Warren Buffett’s party that night.  

In the end, she had chosen a dress in a shade of hunter green so dark that it was almost black.  The reason she selected that particular one was because it not only had a matching bra and panties, but also a garter and stocking set Jon had insisted upon.  The dress itself was classically styled, elegantly simple and while exceedingly modest, managed to hug her body in all the right places without being overtly sexual.  

However, the garter belt and stockings that would be hiding underneath had Jon panting the minute he saw them laid out on the bed. 

“THAT’s gonna be fun to take off of you later on.”

“Well, you'll get to find out unless I go home with Warren Buffett.  You wouldn't mind, would you?  After all, every woman is entitled to a fantasy night with some famous person - you'd give me a pass, right, honey?”

He scoffed while sipping wine from a pretentiously expensive goblet.  “I'm used to being the guy the girl is given a pass FOR, so, no.  Sorry, baby.  No passes for you.”

Doing one final touch up on her hair before slipping her dress on, Rachel found herself temporarily mesmerized by Jon’s reflection in the mirror.  The charcoal gray suit was elegantly sophisticated, in keeping with the dress code of tonight’s gathering, but it didn’t matter if he was attending a White House event or working in the studio – he always retained that slightly unrefined Jersey edge.

“You make the most sinful thoughts race through my head when you're in a suit and tie.”

Jon’s eyes rolled to the ceiling and back again.  “Gawd.  You say that no matter what I'm wearing.”

“Well, yeah.  But… there’s something about a man dressed all conservative and stuff.”

“Don't let the suit fool ya, baby.  I’m not as well-behaved as I might appear.”

One last spritz of hairspray and she spun to face him, helping herself to a sip of his wine before indulging in a lingering kiss.  “Well-behaved you’re not.”

“If you kiss me like that again,” he warned with a soft growl.  “I’m gonna bend you over that counter and then you'll be late to Warren Buffett’s party.  Don't start something you can't finish, Rach.”

She tossed her hair with a smug grin.  “Fine.  Mr. Buffett is my idol, so I guess I'll have to wait and let you bend me over this counter after we get home tonight.”

“That’s a date.”  Jon reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve a small, wrapped box and held it out for Rachel.  “Happy birthday, baby.”

“Jon, you're ridiculous!  How many birthday presents are you going to give me today?  On top of the gifts you gave me yesterday!”

“There’s only one more after this.”  His grin was utterly lecherous.  “But that one requires you to wear your birthday suit, while this is something to wear with your new dress.  Oh, and yesterday’s gifts weren't birthday presents.  They were ‘I'm sorry I was a dick’ presents.  Different thing.”

She snaked her right arm around his neck while accepting the box with her left hand.  “You have to know you’ve been overly extravagant and that it isn't necessary.  It doesn’t matter what’s in the box.  I love it.”

“I dunno, baby,” he drawled uncertainly.  “You better open it up.  You may not like it.”

Grinning up at him, Rachel tore the wrapping off the little box and pressed the used paper into his open palm with a nod of thanks.  The velvet box opened with an easy flick of her thumb and she found herself looking at earrings in a familiar “X” shape  that symbolized their pinky swear to each other so many months ago. 

The day they’d made that pinky swear was the same day she removed the wedding rings from around her neck and replaced them with the necklace that matched these earrings.  

If their relationship had never grown any stronger after that memorable day, Rachel would still have considered them lucky to have each other.  But somehow, what they’d felt then had grown and deepened, forming strong roots that held firm even when things had been difficult between them.  

“They're beautiful,” she admired quietly, stroking her fingertip over the white gold and diamonds.

 “Thank you for a perfect birthday.”

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

At the party Rachel was introduced to any number of recognizable people.  Superstars in a dozen different realms milled socially around the room, yet she was completely nonplussed by the roomful of rich and famous.

Until she saw Warren Buffett approaching them.

She grabbed hold of Jon’s arm and, in a voice that was five octaves higher than normal, quietly screeched, “It’s him!!!!!  It’s Warren Buffett!!!!  Would it totally embarrass you if I asked to take a picture with him?”

Jon was still chuckling as he stepped forward and extended his hand to the famous business mogul and he thought Rachel’s hand might actually have been trembling when she followed suit.  She kept it together while introductions were made and pleasantries exchanged, but Jon had seen more than his share of his fans react in the same way.  Shock and awe were written all over her face while trying desperately to appear calm, cool and collected. 

“I have to tell you, Sir,” Jon confided with a covert wink to Rachel.  “With all the famous people in this room, you're the only one to impress my lady.  I believe she described you as her ‘idol’.  Today is her birthday, and I happen to know she'd love nothing more than to have a picture taken with you.”

“Well, I’d be the lucky one to have such a beautiful young woman on my arm.”  Mr. Buffett’s response was warm and kind.  They posed for a few pictures and chatted several minutes before their host moved on to the next circle of guests. 

Rachel practically floated through the rest of the evening while Jon made lots of politically correct small talk and she wore her own business smile.  It was a memorable birthday on many levels but she would be happiest when the party was over and she and Jon were returning home to finish the night alone.

And naked.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the quiet shaking of the car seat and she turned to Jon, who was seated next to her.  “What are you laughing about?”

“Just thinking how you squealed at meeting Warren.  It’s cute, that’s all.  You sure as hell didn’t get that excited when you met ME!”

Her hand found its way to Jon’s suit-clad thigh and squeezed.  “I got pretty excited on your dock….”

“Yeah, but you got a lot MORE excited up against my kitchen wall!”

Rachel’s hand left Jon’s thigh and flew to her face.  “I'll never know what came over me that night.  That was completely out of character for me.”

“Hmph!  If that’s the case, it was completely out of your character several times that night and again the next morning, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.  I was a complete trollop.”

“S’okay, baby.  I kinda like my women a little on the trashy side.”

“So I’ve seen.”

“Ouch!  You're hitting below the belt, sweetheart.  That’s probably gonna get you spanked later.”

“A girl can dream….”

Jon dropped his head back in laughter as he slid his arm behind her, along the back of the seat.  He crooked his elbow around her neck and pulled her in close for a loud, smacking kiss.  “I love you, you little hellion.”

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

Rachel always thought of Jon’s staff as somewhat ghost-like.  She knew they existed because things were always in order and nobody else could have arranged for the bottle of wine to be chilling in the penthouse bedroom, yet she seldom saw them. 

“Nice touch, rock star.”

“Thank you.”  The zipper on the back of her dress was slowly pulled down as Jon nuzzled her neck.  “I figured if my charm hadn’t gotten to you, I'd get you drunk enough to let me have my way with you.”

There was something hyper sexy about him tonight.  Maybe it was the way he spoke to her, almost whispering.  Or maybe it was the way his other hand pushed the hair off her neck, fingertips causing her to shiver.  It could've been the way he pushed up against her, or even the feel of his breath against her ear. 

Rachel wasn't sure what it was exactly, but her heart was beating harder than during any workout.  She could barely breathe the desire was so strong, and could only whisper,  “You've never needed to rely on liquor to have me.  The first time you kissed me, I swear I heard thunder and saw lightning.  But once you put your hands on me… it was primal the way I needed you.”

The low moan from Jon’s throat as he slipped her dress off served as confirmation that he was every bit as turned on as she was.  “The combination of love and lust with you is a high I can't quite describe.  It’s an animalistic instinct to ravage you, but tempered with an affection that keeps me from just throwing you down and fucking you.”

She turned to face him, sliding her fingers along the neck of his suit jacket and pushed it off his shoulders.  It fell to the floor with a soft plop, joining Rachel’s own dress.  “They say what you give is always what you need, don't they?”

As she unbuttoned his shirt, she was rewarded with his raunchy grin, “Do they, now?”

“So I've been told.” 

Undressing each other was nothing new, but tonight his touch seemed to sting with erotic energy which was only intensified when Jon slipped the straps of her bra off her shoulders. 

“Somebody’s been doing their homework”, was his breathy reply as his thumb scraped across her nipple. 

“You've written some pretty sexy lyrics… And I imagine had some pretty wild nights.”

“Very wild.  But sex with a woman you're in love with is an entirely different level of wild.”  He'd removed her clothes from the top but now was moving his hands lower and inside the elastic band that held her stocking to the garter belt.  “A woman you love, fight with… care enough about to make up with - THAT is the wildest sex a guy will ever have.”

“Is it ‘wild’ that you crave?”

Rachel was in the process of unbuttoning and unzipping his suit pants, pushing them to the floor, when Jon hissed, “Lately, all I crave is you.”

“Mm.  What about when you’ve grown bored with me?”

“I’ll never be bored with you.  You’ll always be enough for me… more than enough.  That’s never been the issue.  The real question is will I be enough for you?  Or do you need more?” 

Her skin was on fire from just his touch.  She couldn’t have formed a coherent thought if her life depended on it.  All she knew for sure was that she wanted him, desperately.  By the time he slipped her panties down her legs Rachel was so totally into the sexual zone she didn’t really understand his question. 

“More?  I can barely keep up with this.”

“Look at me, Rach.  They had managed to find the bed, grabbing and clawing at each other all the way, when Jon withdrew his hand from between her legs.  “In a few years – when it’s too late for more kids – are you gonna feel like you settled?  Is a life with just you and me - just us - enough?  Am I gonna be enough?”

At that moment, all she wanted was his hand back in the place he'd taken it from.  She wanted…  No, she needed him to finish taking her over the edge and into that place she thought of as Eden.  “Yes.  This… us… it’s enough, Jon.”

His attack on her senses completely on pause, he traced a thumb across her cheek and stared intently into her heavy lidded eyes, “You're sure?”

“You're all I need, Jon…. you're enough.”