Chapter 75

Rachel sighed wearily and turned off the faucet, sinking into the tub full of bubbles.  The flight from Turks and Caicos back to New Jersey wasn’t any longer than the one that had carried them to Paradise, but her emotions seemed to act like an extra weight on the tail and slowing the plane down.  The trip had felt endless.  She had been angry, certainly.  But more than that, she had
been – and still was – deeply hurt.  

Jon claimed marriage held no higher esteem because of that piece of paper, but his words and actions on the flight home had completely contradicted that claim – and made her point.  When it came down to it, he had been the one to place “wife” on a higher pedestal than “girlfriend” when it came to taking “a knife to his balls”.  And it was obvious he hadn’t even recognized it. 

When Rachel had suggested to the driver than Jon needed to make a stop at the drug store on the way home, things had gone from bad to worse.  Apparently condoms – or sex with her – weren’t on his agenda.   Jon’s barked instructions to the driver to bypass the stop and go directly to his house, combined with his stink eye in her direction, had left little doubt that he was still as pissed as she was. 

He was even more irritable when she’d instructed Phil to stop at her place first. 

“What?  Now you’re not even coming home with me?”

 “I think we need a little space.”

Jon’s patience was long gone by this point and, while she knew he didn’t want to have a brawl in front of the driver, he wasn’t beyond hissing at her under his breath. 

 “No fuckin’ way.  Don’t start this shit Rachel.  We agreed…. no matter what, at the end of the day…”

“Then you come over at the end of the day.  I have work to catch up on, and laundry to do.”

A frustrated sigh accompanied the hand that was raked roughly through his hair.   “Sometimes I think you go out of your way to be difficult.”

No.  She didn’t.  He just seemed to take everything that way.  But, in the interest of keeping the peace, she refrained from being ‘difficult’ for the rest of the trip by staying silent and staring out the window.

When they arrived at her place, Rachel found out that the cold of her house was nothing compared to the coldness of her vacation partner when he stomped up the stairs to deliver her suitcase to the bedroom.  She was in the kitchen putting her laptop on the counter and turning up the heat when she heard him stomp back down and then slam the front door, leaving without speaking. 

Was she being difficult?  He had seemed so convinced she was being unreasonable that Rachel began to wonder if he was right.   She considered the entire conversation they’d had in the car, if you could call it a conversation, while unpacking. 

The truth was, in spite of what she’d told Jon, she didn’t have work to catch up on and she’d done laundry before they left the Caribbean.   The only thing to be done was put away her clothes and suitcase.  She just needed a little time to lick her wounds before she would be able to have a calm, civilized talk with him.  

The bubble bath, intended to soothe, only added salt to those wounds when she thought of the day Jon had gifted her with the assortment of bath products that she was steeping herself in.   That led to other memories of those early days which only managed to make her feel worse.  In retrospect, she could see their relationship had never really had one of those carefree ‘honeymoon’ periods that most people enjoyed.  There had always been something to overcome or resolve between them, and she simply wasn’t accustomed to that kind of friction.

Things just hadn’t been that way with Nick.  The truth was, the differences between her relationship with Jon and her relationship with Nick had been pronounced right from the start.  

Rachel’s relationship with her late husband had been almost effortless.   Theirs had been a calm, sedate kind of love.  They rarely fought and, if they did, it would never have been with the hatefulness she and Jon seemed drawn to.   She missed that – a relationship where she could communicate with her partner without it becoming an argument, because once the arguing started she immediately found herself on the defensive.  And being defensive made her jump immediately into being offensive – and bitchy. 

Maybe it was all a matter of attitude.  She’d had an easy, relaxed relationship once.  She knew what it should be like.  Maybe with a little more effort on her part, she could have the calm she’d known with Nick, while still having the passion she shared with Jon. 

Her pruned fingers clued her in that it was time to get out of the tub.  After drying herself, she found a snuggly pair of Henley pajamas and cozy slippers were the perfect attire for the still-chilly bedroom.   She dressed quickly and returned downstairs, still deep in thought. 

The added heat of the fireplace had the family room warmer than the rest of the house, it was a  perfect spot to relax with a glass of wine and contemplate a better way to do things.   When Jon returned two hours later, that was where he found her.

“Hey.”

Rachel knew him well enough to see the desire in those gorgeous blue eyes.  She could also see uncertainty – probably uncertainty about how she would receive him.  He needn’t have worried.  Rachel wanted harmony, not another fight.  Maybe then they could resolve their issue without any more hurt feelings.

“Hey, babe.  Want some wine?”  Rachel lifted her glass with a small smile.

His shoulders relaxed a little and he came fully into the room, bending at the waist to kiss the top of her head.  “S’okay… I’ll get it.”

The tension in the air immediately lessened to an acceptable level.  Rachel was glad he didn’t seem up to another brawl any more than she was.   Hopefully, once he saw her effort to play nice then he would, too.

“Everything okay with your kids?”

“Yeah, they’re fine.   I’ll only get to see Jake and Romeo a few minutes tomorrow when I’m there, but Steph and Jess seem excited about the trip.   All the inauguration stuff is just out of whack.”  Jon sat down on the opposite end of the couch, picking up her legs then dropping them on his lap as he settled in.  “Real life… it always slaps you in the face as soon as you check emails.”

“What’s wrong?  What’s out of whack?”

“The logistics of something like this Inauguration are a pain in my ass.  Between the security for the President and the sheer number of people in the crowd...  Then throw in the other performers, speakers, all that stuff…. I can’t control ANY of it and it drives me up a fucking wall!  It’s five days of organized disarray!”

“Five days?”  That was news to Rachel.  She had assumed it was only a day or two.  Not five.

“Yeah, rehearsals, the actual event, the Presidential Gala, and then a couple appearances the next day.  Five days altogether.  Dorothea and Steph love all the dress-up stuff.  Jesse isn’t as much into it but he likes seeing all the entertainers.  They’ll just ship ol’ dad off to the trenches and party while I’m singing for my supper.”  Jon’s previous frustration was now tempered with an amused grin.  He was clearly looking forward to the time with them.  “The hotel suite will be a disaster – Dot and Steph always pack way too many clothes.  Then they complain they have nothing to wear and end up on some last minute shopping expedition.” 

They’re sharing a suite?  All of them?

Rachel had given little to no thought about their rooming arrangements.   Once Jon had uninvited her and replaced her with Dorothea and two of their children, she’d intentionally chosen to not think about it.  His explanation that it was a historical event that Dorothea wanted their children to experience had robbed her of any retort without looking like a total bitch.  She’d been hurt at the time, but with their vacation ahead of them, she’d convinced herself she was being unreasonable and focused on the time they would share in the tropics.

Now?  They were home and the upcoming trip cut a new wound in her.  

It wasn’t that she was worried about anything sexual happening between Jon and his former wife.  It was the comfortable familiarity they would share and the reminder that she’d been discarded that emotionally leveled her like a concrete train at 200 miles per hour. 

It had taken her months to be able to accept him and the relationship that he’d been determined to cultivate,  but she had.  She had.  Now, though... any notion she had of them being perfectly in sync had just been ripped away like an ugly scab from her still tender heart.  The pain was a physical ache.

She would never be able to discuss this tonight and keep that hurt in check.  It might be one of her greatest faults, but when she was hurt, she lashed out in an effort to make the other person hurt in the same way.   She was already feeling ill at the thought of it all. 

She wasn’t up for anything more tonight - certainly not a discussion about Jon’s roommate at the Presidential Inauguration.  Nothing good could come from that.  Her hand instinctively went to her stomach to soothe the queasiness that was threatening to become more. 

“What’s wrong?”

“My stomach has just been a little off today.  I think I’ll go turn in.”

Jon caught her wrist as she moved to stand.   “I just got here.  We need to talk about what happened on the plane, Rach.”

“I know, but it’s best for us to not talk right now.  Please, Jon.  Let’s try it my way this time, okay?  When you get home from D.C. we’ll both have had enough time to cool off and we’ll talk things out.   Until then, I’ll respect your feelings about us not having sex until the birth control issue is resolved.  Fair?”

She didn’t know if he was annoyed because she didn’t want to talk or if it was because he wasn’t going to get laid tonight, but Jon’s mood also darkened. 

“So you’re gonna give me the cold shoulder AND use my own words against me to avoid sex entirely.  That’s really great, Rachel.  Fucking great.”

You can communicate without fighting with this man.  You love him. 

“You’re the one who has the issue, Jon.  I’m only trying to go along with your proclamation that we wouldn’t have sex without birth control.”  Her voice was deliberately soft.  She wasn’t trying to start a fight and, to that end, leaned down to kiss his mouth as she walked by. 

He didn’t even bother to pucker his lips.

Couldn't.  Pucker.  His.  Lips.  He was really going to be that petty?  Show her that little respect?

She felt like her sluggish, disheartened blood had been replaced by rapidly flowing ice water.

“If it makes you more comfortable to sleep at your house, that’s fine,” she offered with every drop of coldness that ice water offered her.  “Whatever you need to do, Jon.  G’night.”

Chapter 74

Their vacation had flown by too fast, Rachel thought.  Sun, sand, sea and sex had taken up most of their time and they never did do all the things they talked about.  They had been able to take advantage of the perfect scuba diving trip off the reef.  It had taken the entire day, but was completely worth it.  The boat charter had even made arrangements for some time in the sun and a BBQ on an island near the reef. 

“Island” might not be the best, most accurate description as it was only one square acre.  A tiny speck of land surrounded with nothing but ocean as far as the eye could see, but it was one of the most exquisite places she’d ever seen.

Jet skis and kayaking had rounded out their trip and kept them from being lazy slugs that just laid on the sand for days on end – although there had been plenty of time for that, as well. 

With the aircraft now climbing to their cruising altitude, both were powering up laptops to check back in with reality.  While waiting for her email to feed, Rachel gazed out the window as the magnificent turquoise waters of Turks and Caicos began to fall further and further away. 

The trip had been perfect, there was no denying that, but Rachel was ready to get back to New Jersey and even back to work.   She could sit still only so long and she knew Jon was just as anxious to get back into the studio to put the finishing touches on the band’s new record. 

Still… there was a little stab at her heart to be leaving their idyllic paradise. 

“Hey.  Don’t be sad to leave.  First chance we get I’ll bring you back here.” The tanned man across from her was so in tune with her it seemed he could read her mind sometimes.  

“I’m not sad, Jon.  I told you when I left San Francisco to move to Jersey I had to close the shades on the plane?  THAT was sad.  I couldn’t bear to look back.  THIS???  This is joy.  To look out the window and see the beauty that we’ve spent this perfect week in… there’s nothing sad about that.”  Rachel reached across the table to twist her fingers into his before continuing.  “In fact, this time and this place is exactly what we needed, or at least what I needed.  I finally feel like we’re completely in sync with each other.”

“Yeah, me too.  It was a perfect week.  I hate to leave the warm weather, but I’m anxious to see the kids and get back in the studio… kinda get into a normal life with you.”

 “That’s a funny thought…” Rachel snorted in response. “You and ‘normal’ don’t quite go in the same sentence.”

“Our version of normal, then.  Maybe after I get you out of the Caribbean I won’t have to change clothes in the bathroom with the door locked.”   Jon’s toothy grin was matched by playful blue eyes and a cock of his head.   “I have a healthy sex drive.  But you?  Sunshine turns you into a ravenous wolf.  I’ve never seen anything like you.  It borders on intimidating.”

“I don’t know what it is about sun, sand and blue water, but it’s like I can’t get enough sex.”

“I noticed.” 

Her absent-minded response was the result of her attention being captured by the mountain of emails feeding through.   “I was like that when I was pregnant, too… horny all the time.  Nick said I was like a cat in heat.”

Jon, too, had been focused on the multiple messages coming through his laptop, but his focus instantly shifted as that one word pierced its way into his consciousness.  Holding completely still, as though any movement might blow life, as he knew it, all to hell,  only his eyes snapped up to look across the table at her. 

“You’re not…”  His nervous tendency to fiddle with his fingers was kicked up a notch into a full knuckle-crack before he asked the fatal question.  “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“Nope.  Just horny,” was her distracted reply. 

It would’ve been nice if she’d bothered to look up, he thought.  But when Rachel was in work mode, as she clearly now was, it was hard to take her focus away. 

Jon could feel the muscles of his face pulling downward into a frown, but he didn’t say anything and returned to his computer screen.  For what good it did.  He couldn’t make heads or tails out of the jumble of words he saw.  They were viciously blurred by the silent panic creeping up his spine. 

Did he know she was on birth control?  Because he knew he sure as hell wasn’t. 

Terrifying anxiety wormed its way through the base of his skull and settled into the big, throbbing vein in his forehead.  The nagging worry demanded to be addressed.  He’d never sleep again unless he knew.

“You are on the pill, right?”

She still didn’t look up from the screen but she did open her mouth and take a breath, Jon assumed for the purpose of answering him.  Then something on that damned computer caught her attention again and she said nothing, raising his anxiety level a full ten notches before he snapped out her name.

“RACHEL!”

Her head jerked up, startled, and annoyed eyes met his.  “Geez!  What?!?”

“You’re taking birth control pills…..right??”  He was doing his best to remain calm at the thought of possibly procreating without consent, but her indifference wasn’t helping. 

 “No.”

The fact that she looked at him like he had a third eye didn’t lessen the sense that acid rain was about to fall down on him.  The sense of dread was profound as he absently rubbed the pounding bulge in his temple. 

“What… uh… what ARE you using for birth control?”

She huffed as though he were an idiot.  “I’m not using ANYthing, Jon.  You know I had fertility problems.”

As he processed the exact ramifications of Rachel’s words, the throbbing headache seemed tame – nonexistent, even –  to the nuclear explosion that  just went off in his head. Was she fucking kidding? Or was she trying to have a Catholic house full of kids?

“Are you telling me that we’ve been having round the clock sex ALL THESE MONTHS without ANY birth control AT ALL?”

“Uh, yeah.”

The nuclear explosion in his head now rolled out of his mouth with the same level of intensity as the one that leveled Hiroshima.  Uncontrollable acid coated each and every pissed-off word.

“What the FUCK?  How can a grown woman NOT be on the pill?”

The warning look that women have given to men for generations was familiar to Jon.  He’d seen it from his mother and his former wife plenty of times.  They had taught him that a screaming woman was much safer than the deadly quiet one now before him. 

 “You’d be wise to back up, Jon,” she warned him softly.   “The odds of me getting pregnant without fertility drugs and major intervention are so slim you may as well call it ‘none’.  There’s no reason for me to BE on the pill – or anything else for that matter.”

Because she’d had trouble once-upon-a-fucking time they were supposed to just skip through the forest and fuck like the little happy little bunnies without a worry in the world?  Had she lost her mind?  Unplanned pregnancies happened every day for God’s sake! 

“Oh no, no, no, NO!  You need to get on the phone to your doctor and get on the Pill the minute we land this motherfucker in Jersey!”

“I don’t even HAVE a doctor back here.”

“Then I’ll get you in to see Dorothea’s doctor because make no mistake-"

And that was the end of deadly quiet. 

Rachel leaned across the table, audibly slapping her open palm down on it, and then her eyes spit such anger he thought her head might actually spin around.   He never finished his thought because she interrupted with similar venom spewing from her mouth.

 “First of all Jon-I don’t WANT to see Dorothea’s doctor.  I’ll find my OWN doctor IF I decide that I need one.  And I’ve already told you I spent years and tens of thousands of dollars getting fertility treatments so I COULD get pregnant.”  Jon opened his mouth to speak but she wasn’t having any of it.  “And just for the record…. Nick and I went without birth control and without any unwanted pregnancies for most of our 20 years of marriage in spite of ALSO having ‘round the clock’ sex.”

He hated her visuals.  Rachel had a way of wording things allowing him to see a very clear picture of whatever she was talking about.  The image of her being as sexual with Nick as she was with him stung.  And it pissed him off.

“That may have been fine for him – but it’s NOT okay with me.   Maybe the problem was on HIS end, Rachel.  Didja ever think of that?  Obviously I don’t have problems getting a woman pregnant – I’ve got four kids to show as proof, and  I don’t want any more running around.  Which means YOU need to see a doctor.  PRONTO.”

 “I’m not putting all that crap in my body when I know I don’t need it.”

“I’ve been perfectly clear about not wanting any more kids, Rachel.  Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’ll be any more receptive to one you surprise me with.”

He knew his venomously hissed response was more than he’d have spit out were it not for the panic he was feeling.  As he watched the tanned face of the woman he loved turn more and more red with indignant anger, he briefly wished he’d had better control of his temper. 

“Take it back.  Don’t you dare – ever – make an insinuation like that.  I would never deceive you that way, and you damn well know it.”

“I’m sorry.  That was uncalled for.  I know that’s not you… I’m sorry.”  He reached across the table to take her hand before scaling things back and finishing his thought.  “I just want us using SOME form of birth control.”

“Fine.”  Rachel extracted her hand and threw him an icy glare.  “You can go get a vasectomy.”

In a move that was beyond his control, the Jersey Boy with attitude sat down next to Jon and spoke for him.  “Hmpf.  Ain’t happenin’ honey.  Dorothea tried to get that done and it didn’t work out too well for her.”

As it turned out, his California girl had somehow gotten a healthy dose of Jersey in her, as well. 

“COULD WE POSSIBLY HAVE ONE PERSONAL CONVERSATION THAT YOU DON’T BRING YOUR FUCKING EX-WIFE INTO THE MIX?  JUST ONE?  BECAUSE I DON’T GIVE A SHIT HOW YOU AND DOROTHEA HANDLED YOUR ‘BIRTH CONTROL’ DECISIONS.  THIS IS ABOUT YOU AND ME!”

Rachel wasn’t ordinarily a screamer outside of the bedroom.  But her raised voice left him a little defensive and his natural instinct to match his opponent, blow for blow, came through loud and clear. 

“My POINT, Rachel, was that my WIFE wanted me to have a vasectomy and I wasn’t willing to do it for HER.  I’m sure as HELL not letting some guy take a knife to my balls for my girlfriend.”

Jon only thought her glare was icy before.   He wasn’t quite sure what he’d done, but he knew it was bad when Rachel picked up her laptop and moved to the back of the plane with only a disgruntled snarl as she passed by.

“Thanks for putting me in my place, dear.”

He was left sitting alone at the table, shaking his head, wondering why she was always so difficult.  Defiant, almost.  The blue waters of the Caribbean were still clearly visible beneath the plane, and yet their perfect vacation seemed a long time ago.  How could they go from bliss to bust in mere minutes?  This was nuts.  He had to try and get some control over the situation.

Jon released his seatbelt and walked toward the back of the plane where Rachel was now reclined on the sofa, working on her laptop.  She didn’t acknowledge him, even though he stood in the aisle for a good ten seconds before speaking. 

“Maybe we should dial back the venom, huh?  I wanna talk to you about this, Rachel, not fight with you about it.”

Whether she was actually reading anything on the laptop screen or not, her eyes were glued to it.  She refused to even peek up at him as she coolly intoned, “Then let me cool down awhile.  We’ll talk later.”

“Rach, you can’t drop a bombshell like this on me and expect me to just sit with it until you feel like talking about it!”

“I can’t be nice right now.  Leave me alone until I can be.”

Now he was really pissed.   Not only did she have the nerve to walk away from a major conversation, she wouldn’t even glance up from her computer to look at him!

“NO!  There’s no reason we can’t talk about this, right now, like adults.  And maybe you could bring yourself to look me in the eye while we do.”

She slammed the laptop closed and exhaled an exaggerated huff before barking at him, “Do you think, just this once, you could trust ME?  Drop it for now.”

She’s primed to scream and fight.  You’re not going to accomplish anything by forcing her to talk.  She’s just gonna get more pissed.  Walk away for now.

“Fine.  We’ll do it your way.”  He couldn’t let it go without regaining the upper hand though.  “But we’re NOT having sex without birth control.”

“Suits me.  We can stop on the way home for condoms or we can do without altogether.  Your call.”

Damned stubborn woman!

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I hate those things!  Isn’t that the point of being in a committed relationship???  You don’t HAVE to use rubbers?”

Her eyes rolled as she opened the laptop again with obvious annoyance.  “No, I wouldn’t say that’s the point of being in a committed relationship.” 

Her views on marriage again.  That was a conversation best avoided altogether, so Jon sullenly returned to his seat to simmer and stew in his own anger until she ‘cooled off’.

He missed just how cool she was when she flipped a Jersey salute at him behind the computer screen.

Chapter 73

Dinner was about as casual as one could ever imagine.   As they walked through the small beach town, more than one local had insisted Lulu’s was the best place around for fresh seafood and a laid back Caribbean vibe.  

Lulu’s was little more than a beach bar, really, but the oceanfront setting was beautiful and the barkeep was friendly, recommending a fresh fish and mango dish that he prepared tableside.  Well… tableside would be a bit of an exaggeration.  The whole place was really nothing more than an enclosed bar with a few elements for cooking in the center. 

In addition to the fish, he insisted they sample the just-caught conch, explaining that the ‘pistol’ of the conch was considered an aphrodisiac.  As his final selling point, he assured them that “Island Viagra” was equally effective on men and women.

Jon realized that his shudder may have been overly exaggerated, but the thought of Rachel being more sexually charged than she’d been since they’d arrived on the island was daunting.  “GAWD, don’t let her have any of that – she’s gonna be the death of me as it is!”

“When in Rome, Hon….  Let’s try it!” Rachel declared adventurously.

She seemed to be feeling particularly free this evening.  He could have blamed it on the rum, but more than likely, her mood was the result of their earlier romp in the shower and breaking down another of her walls.   There was a depth of emotional trauma to his girl that Jon knew he’d never fully understand or be able to relate to.  How could he?  She had endured torment of Biblical proportions.  But tonight, Rachel was having fun and he couldn’t deter her mission - if she was in the Caribbean and the sex organ of a sea creature had Viagra-like powers, she wanted in on that action. 

Jon could do little more than shrug his shoulders as the organ was pulled from inside the conch shell and handed to Rachel.  The bartender told her to swallow the long rubbery thing whole, but Rachel made the mistake of wanting to chew it.   “It’s salty,” she announced and then declared she needed rum to wash it down, raising her nearly empty glass to the bartender. 

Amused at his girl’s scrunched up face, Jon couldn’t resist weighing in.  “You should be used to salty things by now.” 

“Let’s see how you like it, Rock Star,” she challenged when the bottom of her glass hit the bar.  “I’m sure you’ve sampled far worse creatures on your many travels.  Most of them probably invited themselves into your dressing room.  ”

He took the next pistol the barkeep offered.  Remarking that it looked like something he’d wiped off his kid’s noses, he then dropped it down his throat and swallowed with a grin.   

“S’true.  I’ve snuggled up with worse things, indeed.” 

  

The breeze, the sand, and the Island music were the perfect complement to their relaxed state and Rachel was on a never-before-seen high.  She took him by the hand, tugging him off his barstool, with the mellow insistence that they dance in the moonlight.

Everybody knew Jon wasn’t known for his dance moves, but he wouldn’t have told her no for anything in the world. 

Flips flops were kicked off as they stepped away from the light of the bar into the shadows of the moon.    Rachel’s body swayed against his, her hands slithering up his chest and around his neck.  He rolled his head into the fingers that found themselves stroking the soft hair at his collar.  Jon’s arms wound around her waist and fell lower, finally landing with his hands somewhere between the small of her back and her butt. 

“I’m soooo glad I didn’t just buy you a sweater for Christmas.   Being able to relax, just the two of us… it made me realize I’m completely, totally in love with you, Jon.”

“You had to come to the Caribbean for that, huh?”

“I think it’s the rum,” she declared without hesitation.  “And the conch pecker I just swallowed.  Whatever… It makes me want to maul you right here on the sand.”

His girl was getting frisky in her tipsy state and it was entertaining as hell to watch.    She wasn’t drunk, per se, so there was no risk of her stumbling around or embarrassing either of them.   Rachel just wasn’t feeling any pain and she was living totally in the moment. 

“If you maul me again today, MY pecker is gonna fall off.”

Her face puckered into a petulant frown.  “I was about to tell you any doubts I had about us were long gone.  But now I’m wondering if you’re gonna be able to keep me sexually satisfied in the long run.”

Jon stepped closer into her, growling in her ear, “You’re talkin’ to the guy that got you off fourteen times last night – without the aid of any battery operated toys.  I don’t think you have anything to worry about in that department, Rach.”

“Old news.   I wanna know what you have in store for me tonight.”

The quick slap to her bottom was intended to be all in fun, but Jon had underestimated how thin the cotton of her sundress was.  The sound of the slap carried through the air and Rachel’s “ouch” had to be offset by a soothing rub to her butt and a heated kiss to her mouth. 

“By the time I’m finished with you tonight, I’ll remove all doubt about your sexual satisfaction, young lady.” 

She actually shivered.

“Oh!!!   Great…  I guess I really can trust you with the rest of my life, then.”

“Is that what you want, Rach?  The rest of your life with me?”  He thought he could actually feel the heat between her legs blow between his when he asked the question.

“It is.”  Her head bobbed solemnly up and down.  “No more fears – I’m moving on.”

The intimate way she was rubbing up against him would be illegal in some parts of the world.  Fortunately, the only light was from the moon and they really couldn’t be seen from the bar.  That worked in Jon’s favor considering the healthy bulge forming beneath his well-worn shorts. 

“No looking back, huh?”

“No.    I lived and loved well in my past life but all that’s left of that life are memories.  Sweet memories, but I want my future to be spent building a life for us.  Being afraid of getting my heart broken only keeps me with one foot in the past and one foot out the door.”  The pale moonbeams bounced off of her wide smile.  “You have all of me, if you want me.”

“Halle-fucking-lujah!”

Rachel pulled him flush to her and her cackled laughter filled his ears before her leg filled the gap between his  thighs.  “I cannot believe I just bared my horny little soul to you and that’s all I get in return??”

“I love your horny little soul, and all your other horny little parts.”

She nipped at the underside of his jaw with her teeth and grabbed a handful of hair, hissing in the process.  “What about your horny little parts?”

“Yeah!  What about my horny little parts?  It seems to me this was supposed to be my Christmas gift and all I’ve done is service your demanding sexual needs.”

“Fine.  Tonight it’s all about you.  No part of your incredibly fine, sexy body will be left untouched, unkissed, unlicked.”

“You forgot unsucked.  I want sucking, too.”

“Oh.  I always consider the sucking part of my pleasure, so I didn’t think to include it.”  Rachel teasingly tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth and Jon felt his groin tighten further.  “Of course, baby…. Anything you want sucked – I’m on it.” 

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

The door to their rented vacation oasis had barely closed before Jon spun her up against it with his hand bunching the hem of her sundress up around her thighs.   “I believe you had something to suck, didn’t you?”

Rachel grinned up into his determined eyes.  “Aren’t you the same guy who was bitching about me wanting to ravage you every hour on the clock?”

His hands released her dress as though it was hot lava and Jon stepped back to put his hand over his mouth, covering a wide yawn.  Ambling toward the bedroom, arms extended above his head in a stretch and he didn’t even look over his shoulder when he answered. 

“Yeah, you’re right.  A good night’s sleep will do this old man good.”

Rachel stood with her back still against the door, stunned amusement rendering her mute.    

What... a... dick! 

She couldn’t help but chuckle and shake her head at the classic display of Jon arrogance.  He knew she’d follow – and she would – just as soon as she came up with a plan to torment his fine little ass.

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

It wasn’t more than a few minutes before she entered the bedroom to find him sprawled out in the bed, arms behind his head, pretending to be asleep.  He was so still Rachel might have thought he actually was asleep were it not for the twitchy grin he was struggling to contain. 

Feigned disinterest?  That’s fine.  He can enjoy his own company for a little while. 

While she left him hanging, it wasn’t for too awfully long.  It took less her than ten minutes to get a quick shower, brush her teeth and finish in the bathroom.  Grabbing the bottle of her favorite lotion, she grinned wickedly to herself. 

She knew Jon always watched when she went through her nightly ritual of moisturizing, so tonight she would make a real show of it. 

The ocean breeze blew through the room, making the gauzy draperies sway in an almost ghost-like way as she sauntered in from the bathroom, lotion in hand.  The cool air on her damp, naked body had her nipples instantly pebbling as she propped one foot on the edge of the bed to begin applying her lotion. 

After several long, gliding strokes up and down her thigh, Jon couldn’t stand the silence another moment and finally opened his eyes.  The grin that had been threatening to break through was wiped right off his smug little face at the sight of her. 

Locking those gorgeous blue eyes of his up in an intense stare, Rachel continued to slahter the creamy concoction seductively over her skin, until her leg was as smooth and soft as a baby’s bottom.  Then she filled her hand with more lotion and moved on to the other leg, never saying a word and never wavering her gaze from his.  

Straightening, Rachel stood tall, jutting her breasts out and sweeping her hands and fingers firmly over them.  One final swipe used up the residual lotion and she was finished. 

Neither of them said a word, but they never broke eye contact.  The only movement from Jon was when Rachel crawled across the bed and straddled him.  She could see his Adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow.  If he weren’t beneath the sheet she was sure he’d have entered her the minute she got close but, for the moment, the barrier remained between them. 

Jon removed his arms from behind his head and reached for her waist, but she took his hands in hers and pinned them to the mattress at his sides.  Rocking against him, Rachel leaned down to kiss his neck, her breasts tickling his chest as she did. 

She moved lower, but only slightly, her tongue tracing a long, wet, torturous path to his nipple, which she greeted with a kiss when her lips arrived there.   He lifted his hips into hers, silently urging her to focus her attention elsewhere. 

  

Ignoring his none-too-subtle suggestion, Rachel’s kisses continued to be spread randomly across his chest and shoulders.  His impatience had him squirming the entire time, finally managing to wiggle out from under the sheet.  It left them flesh to flesh and removed any doubt about exactly how effective the sex organ of a conch really was on the male libido.  

“Ungh.   C’mon, baby… lemme inside you.”

Rachel slid her hands down his chest as she scooted lower on his body, assured by his flag-pole stiff cock that the forced anticipation of what was to come next obviously delighted him. 

“I thought you wanted to sleep.”

Her eyes focused on the tiny freckle that had always fascinated her – it was one of the few areas on him that was never visible even in pictures.  That little freckle always reminded her she had access to a part of him nobody else had, making the tiny pigmentation oddly erotic.  She licked it with the flat of her tongue, then used the tip to circle it invisibly marking it as hers and hers alone. 

Just below that little freckle, her tongue sought out the crease of his leg.  She flickered the tip of her tongue up and down it, like butterfly wings, pausing for only one tiny nip in her meanderings.

His hips lifted again as his fingers found her scalp and squeezed, which only amused Rachel all the more.  He wanted kissing, licking and sucking – but not there. 

“Changed my mind,” he breathed on a low groan.

When she moved her mouth lower on his thigh, bypassing the area most in need of attention – at least from his perspective – Jon finally caught on to the game.

“Now you’re just being a little cock tease,” he snorted.

A sharp nip to the inside of his calf had him jerking it away from her mouth, and had her grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Without warning, she slithered back up his legs and took his entire rock-hard length in her mouth with a swirl of her tongue.   Jon’s groan, coupled with the flavor him in her mouth, was enough to rid her of her grin.  It was replaced with an unrelenting, rabid desire for this man again.   

The hiss he spit out with each bob of her head and caress of her fist affirmed that he was on the same page.  If desire was a language, the two of them together had learned it with an impeccable fluency.

“C’mon, Rach… I need you.” 

A final swirl of her tongue around his tip and she released his swollen rigidness with a wet ‘pop’, snickering at his torment.  “Nah…  You don’t need me.  You just want me to finish you off.”

In one smooth movement, Jon shimmied down the mattress until his chest was directly beneath hers and wrapped his arms around her torso, flipping her on her back.  He now hovered above her like a hulking predatory beast, intent upon having the meal set before him.    

She wasn’t sure which stole the air from her lungs – the abruptness of the flip or the sizzling intensity in his gaze as he slipped slowly inside her.

“No,” he contradicted in a quiet, somber voice as he settled inside her.  “I need you, Rachel.  The exact same way you need me.”

Jesus.

The impact of those words decimated her.  Yes, she’d told him that she would be nothing without him and he had gone along with her, nodding his head without really saying anything, but this...  It was the first time he’d ever initiated that kind of emotion.

He watched her as he filled her again and again.  She watched him as he filled not only her body again and again, but her heart.

It was like looking into a crystal ball, seeing their forever.  She knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that nothing would ever change the way they felt about each other.  

Nothing.

Chapter 72

This New Year’s Day had a late start.  Neither of them could find the initiative to get out of bed, choosing instead to curl around each other and go back to sleep.  Twice.  When they finally did manage to get out of bed, traditional ‘morning’ exercise was been replaced by kayaking on the open ocean.  Since open ocean also meant open sun – hot sun – they followed up with a cooling dunk in the sea.  Feeling as though they’d sufficiently worked out, they were now napping in the sun.

There was just something about the beach that Rachel couldn't get enough of.  The feeling of the sand between her toes and the sun warming her skin was addictive – as was the man dozing on the lounge chair next to her. 

She rolled lazily to her side, garnering a better view of the handsome man who had rocked her world.  The light dusting of sand on his tanned body, combined with the shaggy hair and unshaven jaw, actually made her mouth water.  He had so little body fat, she thought, that his belly button was almost an ‘outie’. 

The trail of fur slipping beneath his low-slung swimsuit drew Rachel’s eyes and took her imagination on a twisting, turning adventure reminiscent of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride at Disneyland.  She didn’t know how many times she'd made love with him, but it would never be enough.  With Jon, she was never too tired, never too busy, never in a rush.  

And somehow, she never got enough.  She craved him.  His touch was intoxicating and from their first night, he had the ability to make her do, think and feel things she’d never known she was capable of.

“I’m blushing just reading your mind, young lady.” 

Mirrored aviator sunglasses had hidden the fact that not only was he awake, he was able to clearly see her ogling him.  Rachel was completely unashamed at being caught lusting and didn’t shy away from voicing her awe at his fine form. 

“I swear you wear sand better than most men wear Armani.” 

“GAWD!” he cackled. “You really do turn into a sexual predator when you get near the beach.”

“I know.  It’s something about the sun…it’s like an erotic massage alllll…”

“Yeah.  I remember from the Hamptons – it’s like an erotic massage alllll over your body.  I get it.”  As he stood, one arm extended to reach for her arm and pull Rachel off her lounge.  “C’mon.  Let’s get outta the sun.  It’s bound to be five o'clock somewhere and I could use a cocktail and something to eat.”

Allowing herself to be removed from her comfortable beach chair, her hand slid up the firm plane of Jon’s oh-so-fit abdomen and slithered around his neck while she tip-toed for a kiss.  “I’m ready to eat you alive and YOU want a cocktail and some food?  Did I hear you right?”

“I'm an old man, honey.  I've had more sex in the last 24 hours than any twenty year old will have in a week.  So to answer your question, yes.  I need food and liquor.  And shade.”

“Party pooper.”

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

Cool, ocean breezes blew through the outdoor living area where Rachel had endured “The Godfather” playing on the enormous screen adjacent to the pool for most of the afternoon.  Jon had just taken a break to check in with his kids and follow up with business associates.  She immediately took advantage of his absence to get control of the remote and therefore their next movie selection. 

“Where’s the corkscrew?” 

His bare feet had scuffed across the patio, alerting Rachel to his return.  Beer and her homemade attempt at the infamous rum punch concoction had been his beverages of choice during lunch and the movie, but as evening approached, Jon was getting serious about his drink.  That meant wine.   Drawers were being opened and closed in the outdoor kitchen as his impatience grew. 

If she hadn’t been so comfortably spread out on the cushy sectional sofa, Rachel might have gotten up to help.  But she had a bad case of tropical laziness and she reasoned that, eventually, he’d find the damn thing.  

“Keep looking, babe.  You’ll find it.”

By the time he showed up several minutes later with the opened bottle and glasses for the two of them, she had narrowed down her choice for movies.  She accepted the glass Jon offered before he plopped down next to her and threw an arm across her lap.  Rachel took a sip and readied her pitch.

“Okay, here are your two choices:  I’m thinking ‘Under the Tuscan Sun with the beautiful setting or  ‘Unfaithful’ with all those hot sex scenes which will no doubt leave you with a raging hard on.  Pick your poison.”

Rubbing his temple, Jon muttered, “Trust me, Rach - it most definitely will not leave me with a raging hard on.  In fact it’s likely to leave me with a limp dick for the rest of the day.  You’d be better off to just pick another movie.”

“I thought you were friendly with Richard Gere when you lived out there?”

“Yeah, I was - still am friendly with him, in fact.  But… I dated Diane Lane for several months when Dorothea and I were broken up.”

Rachel mock cringed. “Ewww!  So you’re not interested in seeing your ex having sex in a stairwell, huh?”

“I’ve seen it – I watched it one night in a hotel room.”  He shook his finger at her declaring, “That’s another one of those confessions if you tell anybody I’ll cut you off in the bedroom.  Dorothea hated her with a deep and abiding passion and I’m none too fond of her myself.”

“Bad breakup?”

Jon grinned in her direction and patted her thigh. “EVERY breakup is bad, otherwise you wouldn’t be breaking up.”

“So…. what happened?”

“She liked to party.  Richie liked to party.  I found the two of them ‘partying’ together.”  He shrugged his shoulders as though it didn’t really bother him. “Got rid of her and kept him.  Then I went running back to Dorothea as fast as I could.”

“Odd choice.”

“Nah, not really.  I love him like a brother but I only liked her.  It was a good lesson for me.  I saw that a girl in Hollywood was not gonna be my thing.  Dorothea knew what loyalty was and to her credit, she still does.  That was really what drew me to her as much or more than anything else.”

“Hmm.  So what drew you to me?”

“Lust.” 

“Lust, huh?”  Rachel couldn't resist leaning into him and swiping her tongue across the bottom of his earlobe, teasing, “And now, all these months later, you prefer food, liquor and shade to making love with me.”

Jon’s lopsided grin was one of the most appealing facial expressions he wore.  When he gave it to her, she felt that familiar sizzle begin to stir between her legs.  She wanted him.  Again.  More than that, by the look in his eye, she knew he knew she wanted him.  Again.

“Jesus, honey.  Quit lookin’ at me like you’re a starving lion and I’m a piece of steak.  You’re givin’ me a complex.  I think I’m gonna have to lock myself in the bathroom just so I can change my clothes without you pawing me.”

There was no doubt in Rachel’s mind that he loved the way she looked at him – the way she craved him.  He was merely playing up to her for the simple pleasure of it.  That was fine.  She could play along, too.

“Well, since you’re hungry again, I guess we could go into town at one of the local dives.  That might be tame enough for you.”  She sat up on the edge of the outdoor sofa, untying her bikini top.  As she stood, she released the top and let it flutter with the breeze to his lap.  “I’ll go take a quick shower and slip into something appropriate for dinner.”

Ever so slowly, she leaned over to kiss him, making certain that her bare breasts swayed tantalizingly close to his face.  As her lips met his, she casually released each of the side ties that held her bikini bottom in place, leaving her completely naked.  That half of the bathing suit was tossed to his lap too,  as she saucily walked past him toward the house.  The expansive glass windows allowed her to see his reflection as he sat motionless and simply watched her walk away.

She knew he was every bit as hot for her as she was for him.  He was just too stunned to respond for the moment.  But, if she knew her man, he’d follow and it wouldn’t be long. 

The cool rain forest shower head felt positively decadent as it gently washed the salt and chlorine of the day off of her sun-kissed body.  Rachel was just reaching for the shampoo when her vacation partner entered the shower, as expected. 

Spinning her to face him, he used his knee to spread her legs apart and urge her body up against the shower wall.  While she was finding her footing in this new position, his hands took her wrists and raised her arms above her head. 

Rachel grinned as he ate her alive with ravenous blue eyes.  He'd always loved the way her breasts looked in the position and this time was no exception.  Seeing his excitement made her nipples stand up, their pebble-hardness practically begging for attention.  Rather than obliging, Jon took the opportunity to tease, just barely letting his chest touch her hers.

“Is there more to that little show you put on for me out there on the patio?”

“If you play your cards right, there might be.”

He pressed further into her, widening her legs even more and with a grin that was pure evil, challenged her, “Show me what you got.”

There was something about the way he looked that made her most intimate muscles tighten and flip.  He was unshaven and had the beginning of a sunburn on his nose.  His mouth was slightly parted with  a hint of the lopsided grin she loved so much, giving her a glimpse of his tongue through all those pearly white teeth. 

Rachel felt his hand cup her thigh, lifting it and gently hugging it around his hip while he slid slowly into her, but she never took her eyes off his mouth.  Whether it be the rum punch or the effects of too much sun, or her hormones, his mouth had her besotted and mesmerized.  Rachel’s utter fascination with each dip and graceful line in and around that sinful mouth was making the intensity of her arousal more pronounced than it had the first time he laid a finger on her. 

It called to her.  It beckoned.  It longed for her as much as she longed for it.

She touched her mouth to his bottom lip, noting the slight chapping before that magical tongue of his found hers.  They had shared the most intimate acts two people ever could and yet, this time, the simple act of kissing him felt more intimate than anything that had come before. 

Jon broke the kiss and dropped his head to her nipple.  Ordinarily Rachel wouldn't have objected, but this time...   This time, she needed his mouth on hers as much as she needed her next breath.  She tapped his jaw, silently signaling him to bring his lips back where they were wanted. 

As his tongue slicked against hers, igniting a burst of adrenaline, Rachel realized that she had become dependent on him.  Food, water, oxygen and Jon were the only things she truly had to have every day.  It was a terrifying realization.  She'd only been dependent on one other person in her life.

For the first time ever, Nick came to her mind while making love with Jon.  

Rachel had allowed her life to become so intertwined with Nick’s that his death left her almost crippled beyond the loss of their children.  She hadn’t thought she would be able to get up day after day after day.  In fact, she hadn’t wanted to.  With the other half of her missing, what was the point?

And...  She shuddered as Jon sucked on her tongue, his fingers digging into her backside.  The way she felt about him was stronger than anything she'd ever felt for Nick. If the unthinkable happened again… she didn’t think she could survive.  Absolutely could not survive.

The slow, rocking rhythm he used to coax her body into responding had her wrapping her other leg around him.  His power was controlled and steady, but the sharp inhalation through his nose interrupted her revelation and took her attention from his mouth.  It was a sure sign he was close to exploding .

“You won’t leave me?” 

She hadn’t planned to say the words, didn’t even realize she had at first, but she was sure it was her own voice’s raspy echo that surrounded them in the glass shower stall.  Lifting her eyes, at last, to Jon’s, she saw the subtle change in their sex-darkened irises. 

There was a depth to him now.  He understood what she was asking and why.  He recognized her out of character question and knew that it was borne of facing her deepest fear - of giving herself so completely that she couldn't live without him. 

His hips continued to roll steadily filling her and retreating, his pace relaxed and slow.  There was no hesitation and he never stilled inside her, pushing both of them steadily toward that place where it was just them. 

The only physical change he made was to brush her cheekbone with his thumb and whisper, “I won't leave you.”

Those four words made her complete.  She became whole even as she burst into the familiar million pieces that only he could put back together over and over again.   The release was as much emotional as it was physical and it carried a sort of reverence with it.   They were quiet..., gentle with both their bodies and their voices, even though they barely spoke a word. 

They didn’t have to speak.  She didn’t need anything more than this to know he would always be there. 

Chapter 71

A feast of local delicacies had been pre-arranged for Jon and Rachel’s dinner on the boat dock.   Brightly colored fish swam all around and under them as cocktails and appetizers of mini ceviche cups were served beneath an enormous umbrella.  In the shade of that umbrella was a rustic teak table and chairs staged to serve as their dinette. 

There wasn’t an ounce of formality to be found in the relaxed setting.  The turquoise blue waters of the island were the centerpiece, and the simplicity of the furnishings allowed the sea to remain the star of the show.

“You did good, Rach.”  Jon’s raised glass was met by hers and the fine crystal tinkled in a New Year’s Eve toast.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.  I could get used to being a kept man.  Sun, sand, sex… what’s not to like?”

“Provided I can ever get you off the beach –  or out of bed for that matter – there’s so much we can do while we’re here.  The snorkeling and scuba diving is second to none, or so they say.”  Swallowing the fruity rum concoction the chef had assured her was an island specialty, Rachel considered that too many more sips might leave her flat on her back – in a way Jon wouldn’t be happy about.  “We can take the jet skis out, go kayaking.  The property manager even suggested we charter a boat and do a scuba trip that takes us right to the reef.”

“Sounds great – especially the scuba trip.  Would you enjoy that?”

“Yeah, I’d love to do the scuba thing.  Tomorrow though, I’d really like to do NOTHING.  Sleep late, read a book, maybe even watch a movie.  They have this huge screen on the patio.  Wouldn't it be delightfully slovenly to just lie around drinking more of this rum punch and watching old movies?”

“You really are the perfect woman.  You’re not even going to make me shave on this trip are you?”

Her response was delayed until the servers had replenished their dwindling cocktails.  The meal – an assortment of freshly caught spiny lobster, the traditional side dish of peas and rice, some sort of sweet potato salad and a bowl of root vegetables in a spicy-sweet sauce – was scrumptious.  The food wasn’t enough to offset the impact of the liquor and Rachel considered sipping this new drink – the  third that had been presented to her – a  little more carefully. 

She forked the last remaining carmelized carrot and popped it into her mouth.  “I don't want you to do anything that you don’t want to do - ever -  but especially this week.”

“Meaning?”

Rather than looking at him, she toyed with the umbrella in her drink when she replied, “Meaning I don’t want you to do anything that YOU don’t want to do just because you want to make ME happy.”

“I’m sensing we’re not talking scuba diving. What’s up?”

Their surroundings and the mood were so perfect tonight.  Rachel wasn’t about to let anything tarnish their few days in paradise or disrupt her rum buzz. 

In an attempt to derail Jon’s train of thought, she pushed from her chair to cover the few steps separating them and dropped sideways into his lap.  She hooked one arm loosely around his neck and pushed the wind-blown hair off his forehead with a playful smile.  Using two curled fingers under his chin, she lifted his mouth to hers and teased, “If it doesn’t make you happy to let me be on top, then I guess it won’t hurt for YOU be on top.”

Rachel giggled and, releasing his neck, began to stand.  Jon’s arm quickly stole around her waist, holding her firmly in place. 

“Don’t.”

“Don’t get up or don’t let you be on top?”

He frowned, unhappy she was playing games that threatened to ruin his rum-mellowed state.  Was she ever going to just be open and honest with him?  WITHOUT the aid of a lust-hazed fog?

“Don’t shut down.  We have less than four hours left of this year.  Finish your thought without using seduction or jokes to change the subject so that we don’t begin the next year still carrying this year’s baggage.”

The silence would have been deafening if it weren't for the sound of the azure waves rhythmically washing up on the beach.  Rachel’s defiantly tilted chin combined with the firm set of her jaw left Jon wondering how the conversation would progress at this point.  Fight or flight?

He was pleasantly surprised when it was neither.  There was no longer a reason to restrict the booze’s reign over brain cells when her shoulders relaxed, her eyes softened and she nodded in acquiescence. 

“Okay then.  Today on the beach you said you could do marriage if it were important to me.  I wouldn't want you to agree to marriage just because you thought it would make me happy.”

Jon knew the overzealous applause was overkill all on its own, but he couldn’t stop himself from dispatching a rum-induced drawl to accompany it. “Well done, baby.  You barely flinched.”

She rolled her eyes and returned the sarcasm with a dry, “Glad you approve.”

The nip he gave to her shoulder as faux-punishment was both affectionate and tender.  “As for the marriage part?  I already told you marriage, per se, isn't important to me.  But I know it means something to you and I just wanted you to know if it became a major issue between us I could… ya know… I think I could do that for you.”

Rachel wasn’t exactly doing cartwheels over his reluctant offer, but she was willing to let it go.  It was New Year’s Eve, after all. 

Her man was never a sloppy drunk, but he was clearly feeling no more pain than she was.  His relaxed slump somehow made him appear irresistible.  Again. 

“Is that all you could do for me?”

Rachel’s body language couldn’t have left much to the imagination.  But when Jon leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, she wondered if she’d been too subtle.

Until his hand crept under her short skirt, unerringly finding its way between her legs.  Proof that, even ‘blindfolded’, he knew his way around her body.

“Oh, I dunno,” he drawled.  “I could probably think of some other things to do for you while we're down here in the tropics.”  The sun hadn’t quite gone down and the sky still had its dusky light but nonetheless,  Jon removed his sunglasses and tossed them onto the table.  “Whaddaya say we ring in the New Year with a real bang?  I’ll make you come more times than you ever have in your life – all before midnight.”

Rachel rolled her lips between her teeth in an attempt to refrain from giggling or spilling her guts about what a feat Jon’s suggestion would be.  Her expression must have betrayed her, and Jon didn’t overlook it.

“You think I can’t get that done or what?  What’s the look for?”

She tried to fight off the giggles, really she did.  But the combination of Jon’s hackles being raised and the obscene volume of rum she’d consumed just didn’t allow it.  “No, honey, I’m sure you can get the job done…. no doubt about it.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted his eyes.  “I know I’m gonna regret this, but how many times HAVE you come in one night?”

The effects of the rum washed over her with a new wave of giddiness and Rachel shook her head with an embarrassed grin beginning to form on her face.  “I am SO NOT having this conversation.”  She leaned into his smirking mouth and briefly slipped her tongue between his lips before trying to pull him into a standing position.  “C’mon… let’s go inside where you can get the New Year’s celebration started.”

Jon straightened up in his chair and pulled her back to his lap.  “Oh no you don’t.  No way I’m letting you off that easy.  How many orgasms have you had in one night?”

“Fine.  I’ll answer that question.  But only if you’re willing to tell me how many women you’ve slept with in one day.”  She couldn’t resist grinding into his lap while she teased, “Still wanna play that game, baby?”

“It’d stunt your growth.”

“I’ll bet my number is higher than yours.”

The back of his chair provided an excellent resting spot when he allowed his head to drop back.  “Hmph.  No way.  That’s a bet I’ll gladly take.  What’s the wager there, sweet stuff?”

“Trust me, lover – you do NOT wanna take this bet.”

“You don’t have a poker face, Rachel. I’ll take that bet.”  He tugged on the elastic top of her strapless sundress, pulling it down enough to release her breasts for a quick nipple pinch. 

Jon came as near to giggling as she'd ever seen him when she slapped his hand and pulled the top of her dress back over her breasts.  

“What’s the wager, rock star?”

 “Gosh, honey, I sure hate to take advantage of you here… what do you think is fair?”

“Let’s see….”  She tapped her chin thoughtfully with one hand and kept control over the top of her sundress with the other.  “If you win and you’ve slept with more women in one night than I’ve had orgasms…. I’ll make your most secret sexual fantasy come true.”

If the growing erection she was currently sitting on was any indication, Rachel had managed to get his full attention.  “Don’t you want to know what that fantasy might be before you commit to it, little girl?”

Rum.  It was doing all the talking for Rachel now. 

“Doesn’t matter.  If you want a threesome – I’ll make it happen.”  She traced his lips with her fingertip and growled, “Anything you want.  NOTHING will be taboo.”

This was a side of Rachel Jon had never seen.  She was full-on sexually charged – down and dirty. 

And he liked it. 

“Nothing is off limits, huh?”

She looked at him like she could eat him alive.  “Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  I’ll make it a night to top all others.”

Jon recognized the lethal combination of being buzzed and turned on.  The anticipatory throbbing between his legs told him it was going to be a good night – a very good night if Rachel’s sexy grin was any indication.  But on the off chance….

“And if you happen to win, Rach?  Is that what you want?  Your secret sexual fantasy come true?”

“Mm…. it might be that MY fantasy is the same as yours.”  The gleam is her eye was just a flash, but the change was perceptible.  Lust had been transformed into teasing.  “So, I’ll pick a different reward.  Let’s see… How about if I’ve had more orgasms than you’ve had partners in one night, you cook dinner for me while we’re here?”

“I can’t cook.”  Jon didn’t have time to process a response before that one came out.  He knew Rachel was up to something but he didn’t much care, her sexy talk was the hottest thing he’d been part of in years.  

 “I’ve just offered to have a threesome with you – or anything else you want.  Surely cooking me dinner can’t be too much to ask, can it?”

Boobs. 

She had amazing boobs.  They were full on the top without sagging, with ample cleavage and those sweet, pink nipples…. Jon couldn’t even think beyond getting to them.  While his hands worked to tug her dress back down, he was otherwise distracted by the raging hard on she was now wiggling into.

“Sure, honey.   If you manage to win this bet I’ll cook.  So, let’s get this party started.  What’s your number, baby?  How many orgasms have you had in one night?”

“Thirteen.”

Boobs and nipples became the furthest thing from his mind.  He felt suddenly clear-headed and almost sober.  Startled eyes flew up to meet her amused smirk.  “You’re making that shit up!”

Rachel’s giggle was followed by the raising of her right hand.  “On a stack of Bibles, baby.  Thirteen orgasms, and not just in one night, but in one SESSION.”

Jon’s face crumpled into a frown.  “That’s not even possible.”

Rum giggles came spilling from her mouth,  “Oh, honey… it’s possible.  Trust me.   So…. what’s the most number of different women you’ve slept with in one day?”

“Wait a minute – how can you get off thirteen times in ONE sexual interlude?  And who was THAT with?” Jon’s rum buzz was being threatened by the sudden aching in his temple “Oh GAWD!  Please tell me it wasn’t St. Nick?  Please?”

While they had never discussed specific details about their sexual pasts, she had never been threatened by Jon’s crazed nights.  It would only follow that he should feel the same about her more tame nights, right? 

Rachel’s relaxed laugh assured him he had nothing to feel threatened about.  She was finally comfortable and able to be completely open with him. 

“No.  It wasn’t Nick.  But it did happen – I swear on all that I hold dear – thirteen times.”

His sexual need hadn’t been obliterated but it was lessened, allowing him to enjoy this silly, sexy moment.  The little vixen had actually manipulated him into a sexual frenzy, dangling all things ‘threesome’ in front of him. 

“You had me going, Rach, I’ll give you that.  C’mere...”  His hand crept behind her neck and pulled her down to meet his puckered lips.  “You’ve got a wicked sense of humor, ya know that?  Wow.  Thirteen times.  I’d like to meet the man with that kind of stamina.  Who was it?”

“It was with James.  BUT it really wasn’t anything to be too impressed over.  He was into cocaine and, well…. the truth is he couldn’t come.”  She shook her head at the memory. “It worked out okay for me, but he was a mess.”

Rachel had never been quite so carefree with him, never quite so open.  Jon laughed along with her, “Yeah, that’s why I was never into coke – it made me grind my teeth and I couldn’t get it up.  Not for me.  Were you into it?”

“Nah.  Only tried it that one time, that night.  It didn’t do a thing for me.  Drugs really weren’t my scene, except with James.”  She poked him playfully in the shoulder.  “So… spill your guts, Jon.  What’s the most number of women you’ve slept with in one night?”

His pearly whites were visible even in the now-darkness.  “Four.  And blowjobs from three others.”

She couldn’t suppress the grin or the slap to his chest.  “You’re disgusting.” 

She was amazing.  There was nothing he couldn't tell her.  Nothing that made her change the way she felt about him.  There were no secrets, no games.  His laugh was as much from that freedom as it was the look on her face. 

“It was the 80’s!  You were around in the 80’s, you know what it was like.  It was before AIDS and herpes.  We were kids in a rock band and the girls were all over us EVERYWHERE we went.  You think I was bad?  Dave had ten!  And if you ever tell him I told you that I’ll cut you off in the bedroom.”

Rachel brushed that concern off with the wave of a hand. “You’ve slept with more women in ONE DAY than I’ve slept with men in my whole life.”

“You’ve only slept with four men in your whole life?”

“No.  Including you, three.”

If he was her third, that only left her husband, and… “James was your first?”

“Mmm hmm.  I thought I had saved it for the man who would be my husband.  Every girl thinks that the first one is the one she’ll be with forever.” 

Her eye roll was as light-hearted as his snort that followed. 

“Yeah, and every guy is just trying to nail as many as he can.  You weren’t all that young, then, right?”

“I was seventeen.  How old were you?”

“The first time?  Fourteen.  I was in 8th grade.  Christ that seems young now that I have kids.”  Her bottom lip just begged for attention and he felt readily obliged to give it.  The kiss was long, deep and lingering, keeping the mood between them  light, but somehow making it more intimate than ever before.  “I don’t know how you got so good at it, but you sure know how to keep me happy.”

Rachel’s hand slid into the open neck of his shirt, fingering the dust of fur there.  “I just hope you can find something edible to cook me for dinner now that I've won our little bet.”   Her face was dangerously close to his, enticing him.  “Of course, I'd probably be willing to call it a draw if you wanna go for fourteen.”

Her suggestion stirred a new arousal in him.  "I am used to being number one.  And it does seem like an appropriate way to usher out the old year…. ring in the new.  Are you throwing that down as a challenge, baby?”

Her angelic smile would’ve wooed the devil himself.  “You once told me you could cook in the bedroom OR the kitchen, but you couldn’t do both.  I’m only trying to be fair and give you an opportunity to pay off your debt in an arena you’re more… skilled in.  I’m only looking out for you, baby.”

“Yeah, that’s why I love you so much – you’re always looking out for me and my interests, Rach.”

“I am exceptionally giving where you're concerned.”

Jon scooted her off of him and stood, taking her with him into the house.  “C’mon little girl, I have some wicked things in store for you.”

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

Jon Bon Jovi was in excellent physical shape.  He could run for miles and not even become winded.   But right now he was sweating, breathing hard and dying for something to hydrate his throat.  He threw an arm over Rachel’s hip as he searched with his other arm for the bottle of water she’d tossed on the floor during their tumble.   The lip balm she always kept on the nightstand wouldn't hurt either, but it, too, had been a casualty of the evening’s lust. 

Finding the bottled water wedged between the headboard and the mattress, he took a long swallow.  “THAT was fun.  I’m not sure who got more out of it – you  or me!”  He passed the water to his deathly-still love.  She  managed to tilt the bottle to her lips, drain the liquid and toss the empty bottle off the other side of the bed.  Beyond that, there was no movement or sound from her.

Jon didn’t pay much attention to her lack of response.  He was too mightily impressed with himself and his sexual prowess.  “I love to watch you come undone like that – I always have.”  He kissed her shoulder, still unaware she hadn’t moved beyond stretching out a twisted leg.  “You don't make those weird faces I make – you always look gorgeous.”

Any man of his age who had pulled off a sexcapade like he just had was certainly justified in feeling a little cocky, hyper and maybe even a little self-absorbed.  But eventually, Jon did take notice that Rachel’s body was lifeless next to him and lifted his head to peek over her shoulder, brushing the hair off her face in the process.  “Rach… I can feel your pulse so I know you're still alive………. Honey?”

“You’re talking too much.”

His chuckle was decidedly more energetic than his girl.  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?  Can't keep up?”

“Oh GAWD!  You’re gonna gloat for days aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah.  That’s a given.  I’ve never seen a woman come fourteen times and since I’m now the record holder of your orgasmic marathon I’m entitled to gloat!”

“I’m so glad I was able to show you something you’ve never seen…”

The sudden, loud noise jolted Rachel into a more conscious state and she flipped to her back.  The corner of glass in the master suite allowed a perfect view of the fireworks lighting up the sky as they lay wrapped around each other in the four-poster bed. 

Jon propped up on one elbow and slid his opposite arm across her stomach.  “Hey.  Look at that… it must be midnight.”

“Happy New Year, Jonny.”

She had never before called him by the name his family and closest friends so often used, but it sounded good and natural rolling off of her lips.  Her fingers joined those of his resting on her sweat-slick abdomen. There was something about this moment that reminded Jon of the sacred hour his children had been born.  It was life changing – almost...  spiritual.

As the old year went out and the new was ushered in, he was as connected to Rachel as he’d ever been another living person.  

“Happy New Year, Rach.  I love you….”