Chapter Seventeen

With hands that trembled more than he’d like to admit, Jon sloshed a generous amount of his favourite scotch whisky into a heavy crystal glass. Without a moment’s hesitation he set the bottle down and knocked back the contents of the glass in one gulp. The fiery liquid burned a trail to his stomach, its warmth spreading through his troubled veins like a numbing anaesthesia. Suppressing a short cough from the kick of the drink, he poured himself a refill and sat down heavily in the chair behind his desk.  He was rattled, his gut still clenched when he replayed the conversation – if it could be called that – with Rachel just minutes earlier.

Had he really called her common? Jesus!

As usual he hadn’t thought things through and had barged headfirst into a goddamn train wreck. Taking another sip from his drink he leaned back in the comfortable chair and mulled things over. So as a result of being a jackass he now knew she was a widow, why the hell hadn’t he thought of that? 

Growling in frustration he lifted the glass to his lips once more. His heart rate was slowly returning to a normal pace but the scotch was helping to ease the flips of his stomach every time the image of her distraught face floated back into focus. She said she’d been married twenty years – his marriage to Dorothea had lasted just over seventeen years before they’d finally called it a day. The hand that wasn’t cradling the scotch idly scratched at the light grizzle forming on his jaw, no matter what had gone on in the past his world would shatter if anything ever happened to the woman who used to be his wife. He frowned when he thought back to Rachel’s description of her deceased husband, she’d said something about him being a father – so she has kids? Maybe they were his kids, from a previous marriage maybe – surely if they were Rachel’s they’d be here with her.

There you go again wise ass – jumping to conclusions just like she said – Fuck!

A short knock at the door jolted him from his musings, the whisky sloshing in the glass as he swivelled abruptly in the chair to face the doorway. Alice stood there, methodically drying her hands on a towel, a disapproving look on her face when she spotted the alcohol in his hand.

“I’m finishing up – you want me to fix you some dinner before I go?”

Jon shook his head tiredly, “No thanks, I’m good – you head home.”

Alice nodded and turned to go before pausing in the doorway to look back at him.

“You know that won’t solve anything right?” She looked pointedly at his drink before silently disappearing down the hallway.

Jon looked ruefully at the amber liquid that swirled comfortingly at the base of the heavy glass. She was right – as usual. However while it may not solve anything it sure as hell was gonna make his next job easier. Leaning back his head into the soft leather upholstery he threw the remainder of the measure down his throat, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips as the slow burn once again started its descent. He needed to go make things right.

Dark clouds gathered at the fringe of the sky’s horizon partly blocking the sun’s grand finale to what had been another scorcher of a day as Jon made his way up Rachel’s driveway. The grounds looked like a construction site, bags of cement and sand stacked at the far edge of the house and rows of potted plants and shrubs silently waiting in the shadows to be planted. Stopping at the porch, Jon momentarily weighed up his options – if he rang the doorbell it was highly unlikely she was going to answer and even if she did, the chances of her slamming the door in his face were running at an all-time high. Stealth was his best plan – he needed time to at least get a few words in before she went kamikaze on his ass. Which judging from their last encounter was quite likely, her eyes had flashed with all the ferocity of a tiger when he’d demanded to know where the husband was – you stupid fuck Jon!

Hands shoved deep in his pockets, he made his way to the rear of the house in the dusky light, relieved to see a small light spilling out onto the deck from the open kitchen doors. The air was heavy and humid, even the crickets seemed smothered by the low lying heat of the day. Sidling close to the door he caught sight of Rachel faced away from him at the fridge. The familiar clink of ice cubes and corresponding gurgle from the built in ice maker told him he wasn’t the only one that had been hitting the liquor tonight. He followed her movements across the kitchen with his eyes to where she slid onto a stool at the marbled island and poured an indiscrete amount of a pale liquid from a yellow labelled glass bottle. When she lifted the glass to her lips Jon’s eyes widened in surprise at the healthy swallow that consumed most of its contents. Rachel still facing away from him coughed sharply, the liquor obviously making an impact before she tilted the bottle back towards the glass once more.

Softly clearing his throat, Jon stepped lightly into the softly lit kitchen, its décor much improved since the last time he had visited. Bright green leaves of foliage sprouted from plants placed delicately amongst the kitchen shelves and cupboards, the vivid colour in stark contrast to the dark oak furnishings that themed the room. Ornate picture frames hung majestically from the stone roughened walls, a barometer and other ornaments adding to the rustic feel.

Rachel’s shoulders stiffened briefly at the sound he made to indicate his presence but she made no effort to turn around. Instead she concentrated on downing another half measure from what Jon could see to be a rapidly emptying bottle.

“Tequila huh?”

Walking over, Jon picked up the bottle of Cazadores and pretended to examine the label, the palms of his hands sweating slightly as he awaited her reaction. To his surprise there was no outburst from the woman who sat slumped before him, her hair pulled into a loose pony tail making the dark shadows tinging the underside of her eyes all the more noticeable. Instead she merely blew out a long breath, her eyes tiredly looking through the highball that was administering her poison.

“Go home Jon…..”

Her words were barely more than a whisper but the quiet desperation within them leaked into Jon’s heart. He had caused this. Silently he twisted the cap off the bottle and poured another albeit slightly smaller shot into her empty glass.

“This is pretty hard core stuff for a Tuesday night…..” He let his words hang lightly in the air, her quietness unnerving him.

“It’s been a pretty hard core day.”

Her words hit home as he regretfully dipped his head in silent acknowledgement. Sensing he needed to steer this conversation in another direction fast he chose not to reply, instead moving to the row of glass fronted cabinets that lined one wall of the large kitchen. The array of sparkling glasses stacked within clinked noisily in the silent room when he lifted one down and returned to the centre island. 

Rachel made no effort to stop him when he poured himself a shot and after a moment’s pause to grimace at the sharp odour of the tequila, threw it down his neck, his nostrils flaring as the alcohol seared its way to the pit of his stomach. The heat that raced through Jon’s body made his eyes water, the earlier scotch that he had drunk reacting strongly to the arrival of its alcoholic cousin. Nose twitching, he glanced at Rachel as he poured himself another shot of the evil drink. She remained still and silent, her eyes never faltering from their sombre gaze to the glass resting on the marble in front of her.

“Rachel…………” He hesitated and swallowed hard, his heart searching for the right words to fix this.

“I’m sorry…….”

After what seemed an eternity she finally lifted her eyes to meet his, the emerald depths devoid of emotion.

“I’m sure you are Jon but you know what? Right now I couldn’t care less what you or anyone else has to say.”

She seemed to look straight through him, her voice even and measured. When she reached for the bottle to refill her glass, Jon held it slightly out of reach, his eyes imploring her to listen.

“I was a royal jerk.”

She glared at him for a moment before shrugging and holding her glass up for him to pour another shot into.

“That’s something we both agree on then.”

Sighing Jon relented and tipped another small shot on top of the slushy ice mix that was lining the bottom of her glass. He had expected shouting and screaming and possibly a tear or two but not this. A woman's quiet rage was not something he knew how to handle. Silence settled around them like a suffocating blanket, the muffled chirps of the crickets outside the only noise that wafted in from the open doors of the kitchen.

“Those things I said………if I could take them back I would.” It was his turn to stare down at the swirling stonework of the marble island, his fingers nervously tracing the textures of the polished surface. “But I don’t think I can find the words to do that…..”

Rachel took a more measured sip of her drink and chuckled drily.

“Hard to imagine THAT coming from a guy who makes a living writing words to songs the whole damn world sings.”  

She lifted her glass to him in a sarcastic toast,“Maybe you can write a song about it someday, something else for me to remember you by.”

With a heavy sigh she threw back the final dregs of the tequila and pushed her glass away from her and slid off the stool, her feet unsteadily supporting her.

“I presume you can find your way out the same way you came in – good night Jon.”

With a final resentful glance in his direction, she turned away and tiredly began walking to the hall door. A lead stone sank to the bottom of Jon’s stomach as he watched her walk away, he couldn’t leave things like this – this wasn’t how he rolled. In desperation he frantically thought of the only thing that just might make her stop and talk to him.

“Tell me about him.”

He scarcely dared to hope when she stopped mid walk, her head turning in his direction. For the first time that evening she looked directly at him, her eyes looking questionably at him as he fought to keep her from shutting him out.

“Tell me about your husband – tell me about Nick.”

Chapter Sixteen

Rachel’s eyes dropped to gaze at the rings nestled safely in her hand, their familiarity soothing yet unnerving her at the same time. She didn’t want to explain their existence, they were a part of her history and history was meant to stay in the past – right?

Jon watched as she silently stared at the rings he’d just handed over, his pulse quickening when she made no attempt to answer his question. God damn – he knew he should leave it, it was none of his business yet there were mysteries surrounding this woman that he wanted to solve. Also if he was messing around with a married woman he needed to know about it – the media would have a field day with it.

“Listen Rachel, I’m gonna be pretty blunt here.” He fixed her with a grim look. “If I’m screwing around with some guy’s wife then I need to KNOW that. I get enough shit written about me already without being blindsided by some pissed off husband going to the press about me fucking his wife blind." 

The blood drained from Rachel’s face as she blanched at his direct words. So here was the impetuous rock star in all his glory. A red hot anger surged through her veins.

“Through twenty years of marriage I never ONCE even THOUGHT about being unfaithful to my husband!”

Venom dripped from her words as she gripped the side of the kitchen island defiantly.

“Can YOU say the same?”

Ice cold blue eyes clashed against hers as Jon felt his temper rise to meet the one that was simmering just in front of him. A flashback to the woman he had first met on that dusty side road materialised in his brain, he hadn’t imagined her after all.

“My marriage is obviously no longer a concern – you should know considering you ‘Googled’ me.”

Shrugging he returned the glare she was pinning him with.

“I don’t have the advantage of being able to look up YOUR private life on the goddamn internet!”

Rachel stared into his angry eyes for a moment longer, her brain slowly registering the validity of his words. How would she feel if at the touch of a button her life and all its trouble were instantly accessible? She dropped her eyes to the floor, her shoulders quivering no longer with anger but with regret.

“I’m sorry……… but you should learn not to jump to conclusions……….”

“I generally don’t have much time to do anything else. My life is pretty fast paced at the best of times, I roll with the punches.” 

Jon’s tone was still icy and unrelenting, he wanted an explanation and he wanted one now.

“You said in twenty years you weren’t unfaithful to your husband – where is he now Rachel? Why isn’t he living over there with you…..?”

He gestured angrily out the window to her house in the distance.

“.... Maybe you’re morally opposed to actually WEARING your wedding ring while you fuck me senseless...it's somehow more palatable if you strap it around your neck? Guess I should be grateful you were hot enough for ME that you gave up on your twenty year run with monogamy.”

He cocked his head sideways, a cruel glint shining from the frosty depths of his eyes. 

“I can't imagine your better half would've been too thrilled with your rings, or you, winding up in my bed which makes you a real piece of work judging ME about my marriage...you know what? Why don’t we give him a call - maybe he and I can compare notes while having a beer."

Rachel whipped her head back, her eyes burning with such intensity he nearly flinched. How had she been so blind to even think she could ever have another relationship with anybody, let alone a world famous rock star whose ego was apparently as big as the house they were currently standing in. Her voice was dangerously quiet, the smooth lines of her face clenched in temper.

“You know something? You go from Prince fucking Charming to the ghetto with remarkable swiftness! This is NONE of your business, I don’t care who the fuck you THINK you are but I know now WHAT you are – an egotistical, self-obsessed, self-serving bastard!”

She paused for breath, hot and angry tears falling freely from her eyes. 

“Have no fear Mr. Bon Jovi – the press won’t hear about this from me, you can keep your precious slate clean!”

Jon felt his heart skip a beat at her outburst, he knew he’d been crueller with his words than he’d meant but his blood was up. He couldn’t help himself and he’d be damned if he’d stand here in his own kitchen and take crap from a woman who up until about ten minutes ago he’d thought of nothing more than a sweet, uncomplicated seduction. He'd only asked a simple fucking question for Christ's sake.

“Touché baby……." His lips curved into a thin sneer, “YOU went from being irresistible to 'common' also with remarkable swiftness.” He shook his head wryly. “It never ceases to amaze me how fast a woman is willing to shed her precious wedding ring to jump in the sack with me and THEN I’ve got the goddamn husbands wanting to tear me apart all because their beautiful wives couldn’t keep their panties on!”

He couldn’t figure out whether the look in her eyes was conveying hurt or disgust but he carried on regardless, his temper in full Bongiovi swing.

“So I’m presuming the husband in question must be arriving shortly huh? Considering you slinked back here to reclaim your lost symbols of fidelity in such a hurry.”

Jon reached behind him to pop the muscles in his neck, grimacing when he felt the familiar tension pop down his spine. The inscriptions in the rings that he had puzzled over this morning flashed back through his brain provoking another mocking outburst.

“Always my Hero? Yours Until My Forever Ends? What a crock of shit! So what time can I expect the mysterious Mr Braden to come banging my door down to fight for your honour? I’ll be sure to have the beers in……”

Rachel’s face was stony and pale but her eyes were swirling in a tumultuous storm of rage. Quietly and calmly she cut across him, her words effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“My husband is dead Jon.”

Her words slammed into Jon like a tornado, his brain whirling inside his head. His mouth dropped open in shock as she continued on her quiet but volatile rant.

“And, just for the record, he didn’t sell a hundred million records or make People Magazine’s list of sexiest men alive.  He didn’t sell out football stadiums or fly with Presidents on Air Force One. Nobody interviewed him asking about his hair or his ‘mega-watt smile’…or refer to him as the ‘charismatic front man’ of a rock band.”

The extent of her research amazed him, clearly she’d thought about this before giving in to his advances. He stared dumbfounded at her as she continued.

“I always thought of Nick as a bad boy, only slightly domesticated….” Rachel gave a small laugh, the storm in her eyes abating momentarily at the apparent memory, “…. and he was a man who saw in me something MORE than just ‘common’ as YOU put it. He took to fatherhood like a duck to water in spite of the fact he had a terrible role model in his own father…he relished it.”

“I adored him and I saw stars every time he touched me. I respected him but most important to me, was that HE respected ME.   In my ’twenty year run with monogamy’, as you so eloquently put it, he would never have dreamt of treating me like you just did – like some common groupie whore!”

Her lips quivered with anger as she spat the words out at him, her face contorted with such fury that when Jon made to speak with his shoulders slumped in regret she stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Not ONE more word from you! I think you’ve made it QUITE clear what you think about me.”

Jon's face fell as he listened to the coolness of her words, the tears that had been trickling down her face no longer in sight.

“No doubt you’re relieved that the husband of your most recent married conquest won’t come looking for you and for that matter, neither will I.”

With those final damning words Rachel marched around the island across the floor back to the door she had come through. Lightning bolts of anger and hurt jolted her body as she stumbled onto the patio, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding her. She should have known this was never going to work out, who was she kidding?

Jon stood rooted to the spot, his heart banging in his chest at the knowledge he now possessed. Lifting his head he dumbly watched through the window as Rachel walked swiftly across his lawn once more, her shoulders straight and her golden hair floating behind her with every defiant step that took her further away. He felt like he’d been kicked in the gut, how could he have been such a cruel bastard? 

He couldn’t recall an argument that vicious between himself and Dorothea even when they had been on the verge of divorce. He swore silently to himself as he lifted a shaking hand to run his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Way to go Jon, you complete fucking asshole……….

Chapter Fifteen

“Ms. Braden? Can you come take a look at this?”

The burly sun tarnished guy hollered out from the echo filled depths of the empty swimming pool, his voice distracting Rachel from her conversation with the landscaping architect. Excusing herself from his company she hurried over to the edge of the pool, clipboard in hand and looked down expectantly to the man who had been shouting for her.

“You see this crack here Ma’am?” The man squinted up at her from beneath the peak of his hard hat, his dust streaked arm extending to point out a large crack that shimmied down through several of the enamelled tiles that lined the pool’s interior. When Rachel nodded he continued, “Well this is only one of several that are running right around the interior, you’re looking at major work to restore it completely.”

Rachel sighed in frustration. So far today nothing had gone right, she had come home from Jon’s house to find the power had shorted out, a result of a major leak that had sprung from a pipe in a wall upstairs flooding the electronics panel and frying the circuits to the whole house. Add that to the team of construction workers and landscapers that had arrived shortly after to start work on the grounds of the house and Rachel’s brain had been about to short out along with the house and all that had been before her worst nightmare had happened.

“Alright, do what you’ve gotta do I guess.”

Signing off on the pool guy’s plans, she moved back into the stifling warmth of the house, her blouse sticking to her skin with the absence of the air conditioning. Muffled heavy footsteps thumped on the ceiling above her head, the electronics guys moving from room to room in their work to get the power restored. The good weather had been setting records on the East Coast and ordinarily she would have been right at home in the California like temperatures exempting the damn humidity levels but her brain had been swivelling ever since she’d realised her neck had been devoid of any jewellery when she’d gotten home.

Standing at the open doors of the kitchen that lead out onto the decking her hand automatically went to the clammy skin of her chest. The bareness beneath her blouse unsettled her, no matter how many times her fingers searched for the chain it wasn’t there. She could feel a cold sweat break out between her shoulder blades, how could she have been so careless? The best she could hope for was that the chain and its precious cargo was somewhere in Jon’s house and not lying on the ground somewhere where any passer-by could find them. At the same time if Jon found the rings she was going to have to explain their existence and that was a conversation she hadn’t planned on having with anybody, least of all the guy who she’d just spent the night with. She blew out a deep breath as the figure of one of the architects loomed on the deck outside. She just needed to get through today first and then she could concentrate on retracing her steps.

The chain had to be somewhere, she’d find it – the alternative was unthinkable.

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

Jon swivelled in his leather chair to carefully place the two golden bands that Alice had just handed him on his desk once she had left the office. Pulling the damp work out towel from around his shoulders his heart beat a little faster when he picked up the first ring between his thumb and forefinger to examine it. Slightly more delicate than its partner; the edges were smooth and round from evident years of wear. His eyes narrowed to read the delicate inscription carved into the metal on the inside of the ring.

Yours Until My Forever Ends

There was no date or any other marking that gave Jon any clue about how old the ring was although he guessed it was a woman’s ring. Puzzled he picked up the other gold band, wider in width than the first its edges were clean and crisp. To his eye it looked in mint condition, hell his wedding band from his own marriage had more signs of wear and tear and it had spent well over half his married life stuck in a drawer or a safe somewhere.

The intricate script inside this ring was simple and clear;

Always My Hero

Jon stared at the two rings side by side before he sat back heavily in his chair and blew out a long breath, his brows furrowed with concern. One thing was for sure – the woman he had just spent the night with was either married or had been at some stage in her past. That didn’t concern him in the slightest, he had been far from a saint in his marriage with Dorothea but what was playing on his mind was why she was wearing the damn things around her neck? His ex-wife certainly wasn’t carrying their rings around with her much less dangling them from her neck; he couldn’t even be sure when the last time was that he’d seen either of them. He’d always thought there was far too much bullshit surrounding the whole wedding ring thing, after all they didn’t stand for much now, not to him anyway. With just a hint of bitterness he scooped the rings and the broken chain off the desk and into his hand. He’d see them returned to their rightful owner in due time, if Rachel chose to explain them all the better, if not he wasn’t going to push it - all he could do was ask. The last thing he needed in his life were more complications and from experience he knew wedding rings spelled trouble. 

Trouble with a capital fucking T.

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

Blades of the short grass flicked through Rachel’s toes as she hurried across Jon’s lawn in her flip flops. As soon as the electricians had gotten the power restored she’d called time on the guys working on the property saying an emergency had come up in the office and she needed to leave immediately. To say they had been pissed was an understatement but Rachel was past caring. Every hour that kept her from finding those rings had been torturous, anything could have happened them and it wasn’t as if she could just ring Jon up and ask about them.

Hi Jon! Just wondering did you happen to come across my WEDDING rings that I think I may have lost somewhere in your house……possibly up against the wall where you slammed your cock into me so hard I nearly stopped breathing or maybe in your bed where you made me scream for more, multiple times…..or then again perhaps in the shower where we……..

A renewed sense of panic cut through her imaginary phone conversation at the memory of the shower they had shared that morning. Had she been wearing the chain in the shower? She couldn’t remember. Guilt joined panic, the two emotions bouncing against one another in her tired brain each clamouring for attention as she recalled that she couldn’t even remember at what stage during her time with Jon that she HAD been wearing the chain. The grass underfoot gave way to crunchy gravel as the house loomed tall above her. She hesitated for a moment unsure of herself, the huge front door seeming so imposing and forbidden. Opting for the kitchen doors again she swung to her right, her heart pounding a little faster at the flashback to what had happened up against a wall in that particular room not twenty four hours ago.

Get a grip Rachel – FOCUS!

Dropping her head she marched determinedly around the side of the mansion, keeping her eyes firmly focused on the ground ahead of her lest any temptation to glance into any of the tall windows that were evenly spaced along the exterior walls. Just as she was thinking she more than likely resembled a stalker anyway considering she was scurrying around a rock star’s property uninvited, music filtered around the corner where the French doors of the kitchen stood wide open just as they had the previous evening. Relief that the man in question was home washed over her, in her haste she hadn’t even thought to wonder what she might do if Jon hadn’t been home.

Tapping lightly on the glass, she stepped through the doors and into the now somewhat familiar kitchen. Classical music of sorts was emanating from the corner sound system but there was nobody in sight as she took in the spotlessly clean counter tops and the freshly washed floor.

“Hello? ......... Jon?”

Calling out Rachel hesitantly walked further into the room, the rubber soles of her flip flops squeaking on the clean tiles. When there was no response she stole a quick glance to the floor on her right, her cheeks heating at the sight of the wall where she still couldn’t believe that she had writhed mercilessly against Jon just the previous evening. Mercifully there was no sign of anything untoward that may have hinted at their rendezvous but there was also no sign of her necklace.

What now?

Turning to her left she scanned the counter tops and various cubby holes for her rings lest Jon might have already found them and worked her way around the island counter towards the oven where Jon had served up that delicious lasagne. Frustration rippled through her mind at the meticulously cleaned areas, she was going to have to search further afield……..

“Can I help you?”

A voice from the door leading off to the hallway spun Rachel on her heels in fright to stare at an elderly woman looking disapprovingly at her with her arms folded. Flustered she struggled to get the words out to explain her presence.

“Um…..Hi! I’m ………Rachel…… from across the road?”

Realising the woman was about two seconds away from calling the cops, Rachel tried to hastily explain the situation a little better.

“I’m a friend of Jon’s…………I called out but got no answer?”

She raised her hands in desperation not knowing what else to say, “Is he here?”

Just as the woman was about to speak, Jon materialised from behind her, his hands settling reassuringly on the older woman's shoulders.

“It’s okay Alice, thanks.”

Rachel breathed out a huge sigh of relief, her panic stricken face relaxing into a smile as Jon advanced towards her.

“Hey……..”

“Hey baby.” Blue eyes twinkled at her before he turned back to his housekeeper. “Alice meet Rachel Braden, she’s moved into that foreclosed place across the road.”

Alice eyed Rachel warily before raising a hand to acknowledge her. Without so much as a word she nodded at Jon and turned back the way she had come, muttering something under her breath. When she was gone Jon chuckled as he faced back to Rachel.

“Alice is my over-protective housekeeper; she’s actually a great lady when you get to know her!”

Blushing Rachel smiled guiltily at him, her heart still beating a steady crescendo in her head.

“My fault, I think I scared her a little. I shouldn’t have been sneaking around…….”

“Sneaking huh?”

“Well not exactly, I was looking for you……”

Chortling Jon rounded in on her, his breath warm against her face as his lips brushed hers.

“Came back for more huh?”

“No!” A little more abrupt than she intended Rachel took a step back from him, the pit of her stomach lurching when she caught sight of the brief look of hurt on his face. “I mean………..I left something behind last night……..”

Jon was silent for a moment while he studied her. His eyes no longer sparkled at her as he spoke in a gruff voice. “Oh yeah? What was that?”

Rachel swallowed hard, no matter how many times she had rehearsed this in her head she just knew it was going to come out all wrong no matter what. Her reply was barely more than a whisper.

“My necklace……..have you seen it?”

Jon dug his hand in a pocket and extracted the gold chain dangling from his fingers, the two broken ends clearly visible. Rachel gasped when she saw it, the rings nowhere to be seen until he opened his fist to produce the pair of gold bands that she had been so worried about.

“Oh thank goodness!”

She leaned toward him to take the jewellery from his extended hand, tears of relief pricking at her eyes when they rolled safely into the palm of her hand. She would never have forgiven herself if something had happened to them.

Arms now folded, Jon leaned back against the kitchen island, his face expectant with arched brows.

“Rachel, is there anything you need to tell me?”

Chapter Fourteen

Jon yawned and scratched lazily at his bare chest while he lay amongst the tossed sheets of his bed listening to the steady gush of water from the shower of his ensuite that had roused him from sleep. Shadowy beams of sunlight were just beginning to filter through the gaps of the heavy brocade curtains that lined the large balcony windows of the bedroom. Groaning he rolled over only to grimace at the early hour blinking back at him from the alarm clock.

Six am – Fuck!

This was a ridiculous time of day to be awake, much less actually moving about taking into consideration the late night activities he had undertaken with his new neighbour last night. Smirking he let his head fall back on the pillow for a moment, recalling the pleasures of getting to know Rachel better - much better. She had made love to him last night with all the enthusiasm of a college chick, if he could remember back that far – and thankfully his body had responded to her urgings, several times in fact.

The muscles in his lower back protested angrily as he eased himself upright and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was no spring chicken anymore – that was a fact he was going to have to remember the next time he decided to have impromptu sex up against a wall. Glancing at the closed door of the ensuite where Rachel had slipped into the shower while he was still sound asleep he considered going in to join her. If he had to be up at this hour it may as well have some benefits!

Tapping lightly on the door he paused for a moment waiting for a response above the crashing din of the shower water before gently pushing down the handle to swing the door inwards. A faint cloud of steam hovered in the warm air, the soft overhead lighting casting a golden glow that draped over the large ceramic washbasins and smooth marble counters.

“Rachel?”

Not wanting to frighten her, Jon cautiously called out before he advanced anymore into the heavy steam cloud that was billowing out from the top of the shower cubicle. His bare toes slipped silently along the slick floor tiles splaying slightly for grip, his hand deftly shutting the door behind him stopping the cool draught of the air conditioning from intruding further.

“Good morning!” Rachel’s shower sodden head peeked out from around the shower door smiling guiltily as drips of water ran down her flushed cheeks and off the end of her nose. “Sorry if I woke you?”

“There are ways you can make it up for having a man awake at this hour you know?” Jon lifted his eyebrows mischievously, his hands resting unashamedly on either side of his naked hips.

Rachel’s cheeks glowered not from the heat of the shower this time but from embarrassment. It had been a long time since she’d had a conversation in a bathroom with a naked man, let alone one who’s sheer magnificent physique made her knees tremble and her insides quiver.

“Oh really?”

“Yes…….really.” Smirking Jon sauntered over to her, his fingers rising to her face to push back the sodden strands of hair that clung to her ears as he brushed his lips against her cheek. “Good morning sunshine!”

Laughing Rachel stepped back under the flood of water cascading from the shower head to grant him admittance only to gasp in surprise as Jon hit another button once he had the pulled the door shut that unleashed a torrent of massaging jets from the walls around them. The powerful jets pummelled their bodies, Rachel’s eyes closing in a low groan of appreciation at the invisible watery hands working their magic until she felt Jon’s arms encircle her, his moist body moulding to her own under the fountain of warm water falling from above their heads.

“Some dinner date huh?”

Smiling Jon let his hands glide down the smooth contours of her back until they came to rest at the base of her spine. Shower soaked hair flopped forward onto his forehead as he leaned in to kiss her gently, her face slippery from the torrent of water that flowed between them. Her small hands threaded their way through the feathery hair that sprung from his chest, his nipples puckering as she grazed them with the tips of her fingers.

“You never did tell me what was in that sauce?”

Her eyes, soft and watering from the steam of the shower blinked innocently at him, her fingers curling around his neck conveying she was interested in far more than a pasta recipe.

“How’s about we swap recipes later? Right now I’m kinda interested in cooking something up in here….” Jon growled softly as he nibbled at the soft flesh of her earlobe. 

Rachel giggled as his hand crept between her legs, cupping her sex intimately while his middle finger burrowed further to flick across her clitoris. A flash of pain from their passionate exchanges last night mingled with tingles of pleasure making her wince and gasp all in the one breath. Jon’s face clouded with concern, his hand withdrawing from her instantly.

“Hey, you okay baby?”

Blushing she smiled back at him, her voice reassuring him. 

“I’m fine! It’s just that………well it had been a while for me before last night…….” 

Taking his hand she guided him back to where he had been administering his affections seconds earlier. “I’m just a bit rusty…….that’s all.”

Grinning Jon winked down at her, he had vague recollections of pinning her to the bed several times just hours ago. He allowed her to lead him back between her soft legs, his fingers gently caressing her slick folds this time, his eagerness reluctantly harnessed as he felt the familiar surge of blood to his groin.

“You fooled me baby, I’d have said you were anything but rusty……”

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

An hour later and Rachel had reluctantly left to rush back to her own house, a full day of coordinating painters and repair guys ahead of her. Jon dressed only in the pair of shorts and tee shirt that he had pulled on after their steamy shower session leaned against the French doors of the kitchen smiling as he watched her scurry across the lawn. Her dress crumpled from its night spent lying in a corner of his room was reminiscent of their night of fun. His mind felt clearer than it had in an age, not just because of the mind blowing sex he’d enjoyed for most of the night but from the ease of which he felt with her. It wasn’t everyday he let people into his life so fast, sure he’d had plenty of ten minute quick fucks to keep him entertained over the past few months but he’d never looked beyond them. He hadn’t wanted to – until now.

“My, my so you didn’t burn the place down then?”

A familiar voice startled Jon from his musings and he slowly turned away from the door to chuckle at his faithful housekeeper.

“Alice even I am capable of heating up a damn lasagne!”

The middle aged woman shook her kind face in amusement, the grey tint of her hair reflecting in the morning sunshine.

“Uhuh…….so why am I seeing a floor covered in burnt crumbs then? Goodness me Jon!” She lifted her hands to exclaim at him as she surveyed the black smudges on the kitchen tiles. “I said warm the bread not incinerate it!”

Tutting her disapproval Alice swept her eyes over the dishes piled haphazardly on the counter and the half eaten lasagne still sitting in its dish by the open oven door.

“Okay so I got distracted and the bread didn’t make it!” Rolling his eyes Jon crossed the floor to fondly embrace the woman who had taken care of his house for more years than he could remember. 

“But your lasagne was a hit! So thank you.”

Alice bit back a smile and swatted him away. Approaching her seventieth birthday in any other job she would have been long since retired but taking care of Jon and his family had been her life ever since they had moved to Middletown. Now that the kids were grown up for the most part and living with Dorothea in the city keeping the house in order was considerably easier but nonetheless she still considered taking care of Jon a full time job. She had seen him go through tough times in the past and thought of him more as a son than her employer. She certainly worried about him enough, that was for sure.

“Your company is gone?”

Bustling about the kitchen methodically tidying the aftermath of Jon’s entertainment, she casually made her enquiries regardless of the fact that she had already witnessed the departure of the pretty blonde across the lawn as she had driven in.

“Yep, I’m all yours!” Fumbling with the coffee machine Jon winked over at her, his broad smile warming her heart. 

Normally she didn't involve herself in his private affairs; then again she had never before seen a strange woman escape across his lawn so early in the morning. She had worried ceaselessly about him ever since the divorce, her own heart had broken for him when she’d had to stand by and watch his marriage break up.

“Well aren’t I the lucky one?” Chuckling Alice stopped her clean-up operation to look across at him.

“I suppose you’ll want breakfast to go with that coffee you’re attempting to make over there?”

Jon beamed back at her over his shoulder, his fingers deftly twisting the steam nozzle on the barista machine to adjust the milky froth, “Well seeing as you’re offering………”

Alice shook her head wryly, “I have you spoilt!”

Throwing back his head, Jon laughed loudly in agreement. Little did Alice know exactly how spoilt he’d been in the last twelve hours or so.

“Don’t I know it! Coffee?”

~~~~~~~~~~

A little while later, Alice was in the midst of her laundry rounds. Stopping in the master bedroom she was in the process of whipping the sheets off the bed and bundling them into her basket when a glimmer of something bright against the white linen caught her eye. Spreading out the corner of the sheet, she blinked in surprise at the necklace which lay semi concealed in a fold of the sheet. Closer inspection revealed two rings dangling on the end of a delicate gold chain which appeared to have snapped just before the tiny catch. Cradling the rings in the palm of her knarled hand, try as she might her tired old eyes couldn’t make out the intricate details of the rings but she could see enough to know they were wedding bands. Curiosity piqued at her mind as she turned them over in her hands, presumably they belonged to the woman Jon had been entertaining last night.

Puzzled she sat down wearily on the edge of the soft mattress, the rings chinking against one another as she turned them over in her hands.

Dear oh dear Jon. Who have you gotten yourself involved with now?

Silently musing to herself as she stared at her find for a moment longer, she thought back to the woman she’d caught a glimpse of earlier. Alice’s eyes may not have been sharp enough to closely examine the rings nestled in her hand but her sight had no problem picking out the woman’s – yes woman, not a girl’s, pretty features and slim figure as she had bounded across the lawn presumably heading for home, wherever that may be.

She sure looked normal enough, well as normal as a woman escaping a man’s house across his lawn in the early hours of the morning could.

Quit it Alice you old fool, this is none of your damn business!

She chided herself for her speculations, slipping the rings along with the broken chain into a pocket of her apron. Whatever they signified or whoever they belonged to, it wasn’t her place to question their existence or how they had come to find their way cast off amongst the sheets of Jon’s bed. He was a grown man and as always there were aspects of his life that as much as she loved him dearly, she was just better off not knowing. Bundling the rest of the sheets into her basket, she set off resolutely to find her employer who was no doubt working up a sweat in the gym. She would simply pass her finding along to him – his bed equals HIS problem. 

Chapter Thirteen

He lifted his tousled head to meet her smouldering eyes, a renewed jolt of excitement coursing through his veins when her breathless reply to his request to move upstairs reached his ears.

“I think we’re good right here…..”

Another insistent tug at his belt buckle issued her silent demand for action and without a moment’s pause he complied, his thumbs roughly dragging the satin sides of her panties down past her thighs before releasing them to drop seamlessly around her ankles. In the same movement his right hand slid smoothly into the warm nest of curls between her legs, his fingers slipping into her moisture slickened folds.

A gasp of pleasure escaped from Rachel’s throat as she shuddered from his touch, her knees threatening to buckle as she finally yanked his belt open and threw open the button on his pants, her fingers deftly releasing his rigid cock from its confines. His girth filled her small hand, drops of pre-cum glistening from the engorged head that Rachel swiped away with her thumb, the brief friction causing Jon to growl as he let his own fingers probe further into her heat.

“Shit……….Rachel……..”

With a low grunt, his left hand reached up to pull the strap of her dress off her shoulder, his teeth nipping at the slender bra strap that he uncovered. Swiftly withdrawing his right hand from between her legs he braced her shoulders back against the wall, both hands working to quickly unbutton the small strip of buttons that ran down the front of her dress. Rachel’s fingers never paused in the sweet pumping of the sensitive skin encasing his erection, his blood flow seeming to emanate from her touch.

 

With no time to lose, her dress gaped open to reveal the firm pair of breasts bobbing gently in cups of white cotton, Jon’s eyes feasting hungrily on them before his attention was drawn once more to the fine gold chain lying between them. The links were so discrete the gold seemed to melt against her skin until the two sides joined just below the line of her bra, a pair of rings nestled comfortably against one another.

His eyes muddled with confusion briefly flicked back up to Rachel’s flushed face, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Her fingers tightening against his cock flashed his brain back to the present situation, any more thought of the mysterious rings chased away by a surge of testosterone fuelled blood to his brain. Quickly he used both hands to push the bra above her nipples, the creamy flesh of her breasts springing free into his waiting mouth. Her nipples rose to form stiff peaks as his tongue snaked around each in turn, nibbling and pulling until he could no longer take the sweet torment her fingers were teasing his aching shaft with.

Pulling back for a moment, he gazed into her eyes for reassurance, searching for any last minute doubts she may have been having but saw only slits of passion dancing in her dilated pupils.

“You sure about this baby?”

A quick nod was all the confirmation he needed and grabbing her hands from where they were stroking his cock he slammed them up against the wall above the tangled mess of her hair trapping them by the wrists with his right hand. With the other he neatly guided himself between her thighs, his knees bumping her legs apart until the tip of his cock was sliding against her slippery entrance.

“Now…….now……….”

Her plea came in short gasps of breathlessness, her body writhing from where his hand held her captive down to where his cock jabbed teasingly at her most intimate parts.

Releasing his grip on her wrists, Jon grasped her hips with both hands as he eased himself inside, slowly allowing his cock to slide deeper within the warm walls where she readily accepted him, her now free arms wrapping themselves around his neck to support her shuddering body. Grunting with the effort, Jon thrust deeper with short strokes, the friction of their union setting nerve endings alight. Beads of sweat gathered at the sides of his temple under his dishevelled hair, slowly trickling a sticky trail along his hairline with every pump of his hips.

Rachel’s mind was flooded with the delicious sensation of that complete feeling she had been absently craving. With one leg hitched around Jon’s hip and the other threating to buckle with every delicious thrust that drove him deeper inside her clenching walls the first waves of her impending orgasm began to roll through her body, mercilessly wracking her tiny frame with implosions of internal fireworks that raced through her bloodstream and into her pulsing veins.

“Harder…….harder…..”

Every breath was forced from her lungs with the rhythmic slamming of his body against hers, the cool hardness of the wall behind her acting as a compressor with the weight of their actions. Jon exhaling heavily picked up the pace, only too happy to comply with her demands. He hooked his left hand under the thigh that she had wrapped around his waist and hitched it higher, his cock greased with the juices flowing from her swollen lips easily ramming home, the tilt of her pelvis allowing him to bury his shaft to the hilt. Her flushed face hovered inches from his own, strands of flaxen hair stuck against her coloured cheeks, all of her earlier business like composure gone in the throes of passion. The back of his neck ached with the sharp imprints of her fingers, clawing and kneading like a lioness and with an almighty thrust he groaned loudly, his actions paying off when the base of his cock convulsed sending liquid fire along its length. His butt cheeks clenched with the effort, every muscle and ligament in his legs straining as he felt her tight walls clamp around him, the aftershocks of her orgasm squeezing every drop from him.

“Christ Rachel……..”

Gently he rested his sweat soaked forehead against hers, his lips trembling as he dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. Still entwined in their upright position, he smirked into her green eyes still dancing with what was now a somewhat sated fire.

“Is it safe to say that you know me better now?”

Still gasping for breath Rachel clung to him like a clam, her fingers still grasping the back of his neck for support. She nodded slowly, a small smile twitching at the corners of her parted lips as she replied with a wink.

“Maybe I do……but if you want me to sell this house you’re still looking at five per cent ……”

 Jon grinned broadly at her quirky response as he slowly released her from their position against the wall, gently sliding the straps of her dress back over her shoulders before deftly pulling his pants back over his hips covering his now finally satisfied cock.

“I dunno baby……….I’m pretty sure I heard you purring something about four per cent a few seconds ago……”

Rachel fluttered her lashes at him coyly, a wry grin creasing the lines of her flushed face before she dropped her eyes to concentrate on doing up the buttons of her dress.

“Is this how you negotiate all your business deals? Because I gotta admit…..” She winked at him again before scooting down to her heels to retrieve her fallen panties. “It’s pretty damn effective!”

“Christ I wish!” 

Laughing loudly, Jon held out a hand to help her stand as she wriggled her panties back into place under her dress and then leaned back against her, his fingers smoothly hooking some stray tendrils of hair back behind her ears.

“That’d be altogether a more enjoyable way of conducting matters but I think my lawyers might have something to say about it!”

Rachel laughed softly and shrugged her shoulders, her fingers idly playing with the belt loops of his pants slung around his lean hips. Her heart beat was slowly returning to normal, the blood pounding between her ears steadily dimming as she smiled back at the man who she felt like had just awoken her from a deep coma.

“Lawyers……they always complicate matters between two willing parties………I say we just don’t tell them!”

Jon brushed his lips over hers, a deep chuckle rising from his throat.

“I like your way of thinking…… what do you say we continue this discussion somewhere more comfortable?”

Giggling Rachel allowed him to guide her away from the wall and across the tiled floor to grab their wine glasses from the abandoned dinner table.

“I say lead the way.”

Chapter Twelve

The musky scent of Jon’s cologne swirled in her nostrils as his strong arms held her close, a heady cocktail of emotions swirling in her head. Desire and passion were sweeping through her body making her legs tremble every time his hypnotising blue eyes pulled her in to ignite the sparks that fuelled the fire burning deep within her. His hands dropped slowly down her sides to rest softly either side of her swaying hips, her own arms draped loosely around the firm muscles of his shoulders. The seductive rhythm of Clapton’s live number that was now emanating from the sound system was dangerous, Rachel could feel her pulse beating wildly, her insides clenching in the need for something more, to be closer to the raw form of masculinity in front of her.

Jon let the music roll over him, the raspy lyrics travelling down his spine to where his hips softly rolled in unison with Rachel’s. She was like a kitten in his arms, fragile but with the capacity to strike at any moment. The eyes that fluttered up to meet him smouldered with an intensity that should have scared him. The opposite was true; he couldn’t get enough of her.

“So, what do I gotta do to get you to cut me a good deal here?” He smiled down at her face, framed in gentle blonde waves.

“I don’t know that you can afford me!” Eyes twinkling she leaned her weight back in his arms, very much aware that his fingers were mere inches away from cupping her ass. “I wasn’t in the top three per cent of real estate agents in North America for nothing you know?”

Jon blew out a low whistle, his fingers tightening to give the rise of her buttocks a cheeky squeeze.

“Top three huh? Well you know…….” Smirking he jerked his head back up at the house with its palatial decor, “I’m usually a top one per cent kinda guy………….dunno if top three would make the grade?”

Rachel’s sweet smile never left her face as she deftly lifted her right hand to flick his earlobe – hard.

“Owww, I’m kidding!” Chuckling Jon ducked his head onto his shoulder to rub his stinging ear; good to know the woman had violent tendencies.

“Oh I know YOU are!” Reaching to tenderly rub his ear with her fingers she grinned up at him.

“Just letting you know that I’m NOT!”

“Oh I don’t doubt that for a second! C’mere.” Letting his hands drop daringly low on her ass to pull her tight against him, he dropped a sneaky kiss on her surprised lips, chuckling softly when he felt her melt against him.

“Soooo you say this place is valued around twenty two million, yeah?”

“Give or take….” Rachel mumbled against his chin as her fingers gently ruffled the roots of his hair tufting out from behind his ears, her neck craned back to meet his continued string of teasing kisses.

“So if it sells for that figure, how much of that are YOU gonna take?”

“Six per cent.” Without a moment’s thought, she delivered her answer directly and to the point, her eyes staring unblinkingly up at him.

“Ouch!” Jon winced as he ran the figures through his head, “That’s cut throat right there!”

Rachel shrugged in his arms, a playful glint bouncing off her eyes.

“Hey, that’s a pretty good deal right there, I usually charge seven per cent! But seeing as I know you….”

Chortling Jon dipped his head to nibble cheekily at the smooth skin of her neck, his breath warm against her throbbing pulse.

“Then what about if you get to know me better?” He purred against her throat, grinding his groin temptingly against her hips. “What would you say then?”

Gasping, Rachel fought to stop the small whimper that threatened to escape when she felt his hard manhood rubbing unapologetically through the thin fabric of her dress. This was insane!

“I’d say five per cent, bottom line!” She struggled vainly to keep a grasp on reality, she was a business woman dammit!

“Bottom line huh?” A snicker rumbled through his voice, his fingers once again squeezing the cheeks of her butt that moulded perfectly against hands. “Speaking of which…….”

Giggling she squirmed against his unyielding grasp, her fingers slipping from around his neck to splay against the firmness of his chest. Decked out in an expensive looking dark navy polo shirt, his tanned neck disappeared under the v of the shirt, wispy curled chest hairs with a hint of grey luring her fingers closer. God damn, how does one man pull off casual so good?

“Bottom line! Or you go get yourself another agent!”

“Sheesh, you play hard ball woman!” The words were no sooner out of his mouth when with a devilish grin Rachel subtly nudged her hips sideways across his already throbbing cock, held captive by the thankfully not so tight cargo pants he had on.

With all the airs and graces of an angel sent from God himself, she innocently arched her brows, her groin moulded snugly against his pants.

“Are you sure that’s not your own…..ahem……hard issue you’re talking about?”

She couldn’t believe the brazenness of her own words. It was as if Jon had waved a wand of sorts and whisked the old Rachel out the window to be replaced by the wanton hussy that was currently seductively slithering all over him like an electric eel.

Jon swallowed hard at her words, loaded with innuendo. He wasn’t sure how much more his poor testosterone ravaged body could take. Damn this woman was a tease.

“Baby don’t you go there unless you’re willing to provide a solution!” He huskily swung her around in his arms, the sensualising guitar riff only adding to the magnetism between them.

“Got me on my knees Layla……….

Beggin darlin please Layla…….”

Murmuring the lyrics under his breath he stared her deep in the eyes, his hands roaming from the curve of her ass to slide up and down her back, silently heightening the need for something more.

Before she realised what she was doing, Rachel’s fingers found themselves slipping down to scrape across the bare skin of his rippled abdomen, the hem of his shirt falling loosely about her wrists as she travelled upwards to spread her hands in the soft cloak of hair that spread from his chest down to a narrow feathery strip disappearing below his belt.

“I think I’ve got a solution for that…….” Her whisper was barely audible as she nervously ran her tongue over her lips, the moist pinkness that followed instantly drawing Jon’s attention.  Wordlessly they moved as one from the patio into the kitchen, swaying with the fading final lyrics of Clapton until the rapturous applause that followed the live recording spurred Jon into action. Safely concealed from prying outside eyes, he bumped her hard against the wall, his strong forearms planted to the wall on either side of her arms effectively blocking off any escape.

Jon dropped his head to nuzzle at her neck, his lips roughly sucking and nipping at the taut skin he found as Rachel threw her head back against the wall, her fingers mercilessly kneading the unyielding muscles of his broad chest. Confident he had her exactly where she wanted to be, he let his arms drop to glide down the contours of her thighs, the flimsy cotton fabric of her dress sliding against his hands. Slowly he let his fingers curl upwards hooking the hem of the dress to drag it up past her quivering thighs until his thumbs just reached the line of her silk panties.

Rachel drew in a sharp breath at the feel of each of his calloused thumbs scraping along her skin just inside the elasticated seam. The rough skin of his fingertips created electric jolts of pleasure that shot to her core, a fiery nub burning deeply between her legs. Instinctively she recalled her roaming hands that had been gently fisting tufts of chest hair to sink further south, to where the feathery trail descended down his lean stomach. 

Jon groaned when her fingers dipped briefly below his waistband to gain a better grip on his belt buckle which she gave a gentle tug.

“Rachel baby…….why don’t we take this upstairs?” 

Chapter Eleven

Sam Cooke crooned softly from the discreet entertainment centre set in the corner of the dining area, the sultry boom of his voice floating serenely through to the kitchen where Jon was anxiously peering in the through the glass fronted oven door. Small bubbles of rich red sauce were happily erupting in the corners of the square ceramic dish splashing the liquid in a bloody trail down the sides to pool in a flat baking sheet. Smirking he silently congratulated himself on having the foresight to remember the tray this time. Alice his long time housekeeper had nearly walked out on him when she’d had to clean up after his last culinary adventure. Some of her infuriated remarks must have sunk home; he’d remembered her top tip for keeping the oven clean!


Satisfied everything was as it should be in the oven department after he had slipped some crusty bread on the bottom shelf to warm, he turned his attention to the bags of salad lying on the counter top, swaying his hips to the chirpy little chorus resounding merrily through the room.

Cupid, draw back your bowooooh
And let your arrow gooo 
Straight to my lovers heart 
For me 

Softly joining in with his old buddy Sam, Jon contentedly sang his way through the classic hit as he pulled apart various pre-packed cellophane bags of mixed salad and emptied them all into a large wooden serving bowl. Investigations into a brown paper grocery bag produced a vine of sun sweetened tomatoes which he cheerily plucked apart and tossed onto the green bed of leaves already nestled in the bowl.

Now Cupid if your arrow make a love storm for me 
I promise I will love her until eternity
I know between the two of us, her heart we can steal 
Heeelp me if you will 


Soooooo! 

Grabbing a pair of wooden tongs to toss the rustic salad together he couldn’t resist raising one of them to his lips as an impromptu microphone. Spinning on his heels, he swayed across the smooth tiles to yank open the refrigerator, his voice perfectly matching the old time crooners as he dramatically pulled out a bottle of vinaigrette and bumped the door shut with his ass.

Cupid!


Pleeeeeeease hear my cry
And let your arrow fly 
Straight to my lover’s heart 
For meeee 


Noooow Cupid!
Don't you hear me?
Calling you
I need ya
Cupiiiiiiiid......Help me
I need ya...........


As the words faded, Jon tucked the bottle under his arm and gripping the tongs in his teeth picked up the bowl to carry it out onto the patio where he’d carefully set up a small dining table. Glancing up at the open French doors, he noisily let the tongs slips from his teeth only barely catching them with the bowl when he saw Rachel standing daintily on the step amusedly twirling a single rose between her fingers.

“Hey!” he exclaimed in surprise, “You’re early!”

Rachel dipped her head in an effort that did little to disguise the shudders of laughter that were shaking her shoulders. Biting her lips she cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Apparently I’m not the only one who likes to sing at home! Although I will admit your dance moves are infinitely worse than my singing talents!” Ignoring Jon’s pathetic attempt at a wounded look, she continued teasing him in between giggles. “Good thing your singing career worked out huh? The Chippendales can breathe easy!”

Jon pouted as he tried valiantly to make a comeback and failed miserably – guess that was karma for sneaking up on her yesterday. Padding past her to place the salad and vinaigrette out on the table he turned to eye up the velvety rose she was slowly waving under her nose.

“Hmph, you got my flowers then I see!”

A demure smile crept across her lips as she gently brushed the petals of the flower softly against her cheek, her eyes dancing with evil merriment.

“Oh, they were from you?” Her brows arched upwards innocently. “I had no idea…….”

Jon stepped forward to gently lay a hand either side of her hips, his lips twitching in a futile attempt to hide the beginnings of a sneaky grin. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear just as Sam started into a soft rendition of ‘You Send Me’ in the background.






“Oh really? Is it every day you get a gate code sent with flowers to your door little girl?”

Rachel pretended to consider his question for a moment, breathing in his musky scent as he hovered dangerously close to her neck.

“Well maybe not with a gate code……….”

Chuckling Jon placed a soft kiss on her cheek, giving her hips a gentle squeeze.

“Wanna dance with me and my buddy Sam here?”

Rachel smiled delightedly at him before her nose crinkled in puzzlement. “I’d love to but……..is there something burning?”

Lifting his head to sniff the air suspiciously, Jon’s charming smile turned into one of shock as he swore and made a dive into the kitchen.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Skidding to a halt in front of the oven, he yanked open the oven door only to splutter and cough at the thick black smoke that came billowing out.

“Noooooo!”

Howling in annoyance, he jabbed a hand in to send the loaf of cremated bread skittering to the floor in a shower of black crumbs. He stared at it in disgust as he mournfully sucked the tips of his fingers to rid them of the slight burn from the incinerated bread. Rachel stepped through from the patio, blinking away the stinging tears from the acrid smoke that was rapidly filling the kitchen. Picking up a nearby towel, she flapped it through the air giggling in between splutters.

“Oh dear! Guess bread is no longer on the menu then huh?”

Stopping by his side she continued to bat the air with the towel, placing her other hand sympathetically on Jon’s shoulder.

“Never mind, it’s bad for you anyway!”

Laughing, Jon shook his head ruefully and kicked the still smoking bread in the direction of the trash can. Turning to peer back into the now slightly clearer oven he grinned triumphantly.

 “It’s not all bad! Voilá!”

After taking the towel from Rachel, he slid the perfectly cooked lasagne out from the shelf on its sauce darkened tray. Carefully he slid it onto the counter top, sniffing the golden cheesy crust appreciatively.

Rachel viewed the dish with curiosity, smiling with approval. So the man could cook after all.

“You know what? Aside from nearly burning the house down this is pretty impressive for a man who claims to eat nothing but pizza!”

Narrowing her eyes she looked at him suspiciously as she referred back to the gigantic stack of empty pizza boxes she’d seen on the grand tour which funnily enough were nowhere to be seen now. Swiftly Jon dismissed her observations with a quick grin and motioned to the enormous stainless steel fridge behind her.

 “There’s a nice bottle of Pinot in there or water if you prefer? I gotta serve this baby up!”

Shaking her head at his intense concentration, Rachel collected the wine and some glasses from the counter and headed back out to the patio table that Jon had already prepared for dinner. A small citronella candle flickered softly in a glass lantern providing an attractive centrepiece amidst the cream linen place mats and polished cutlery. He really had gone all out she nervously noted as she poured them both a generous glass of the wine and sat down in the last of the evening sunshine to await her dinner with a contented sigh, the soft lyrics of the bluesy music adding to the idyllic atmosphere.

A few minutes later, with Jon sitting across the small table watching her hopefully, Rachel slowly chewed thoughtfully on her first forkful. The rich tomato sauce combined with gentle hints of thyme and garlic exploded in a burst of flavour on her tongue, this wasn’t a sauce that came in a jar that was for sure.

“Jon, this is delicious!”

Swallowing the mouthful, Rachel took a small sip from her glass letting the wine cleanse her palate.

“Can you give me the recipe?”

“Um, sure I guess…..” Jon shrugged as he busied himself with forking some salad onto his plate. “It’s nothing special.”

“Are you kidding me? Jon – It’s divine!!” Exclaiming Rachel cut herself another forkful.

“What did you put in the sauce?”

Busy eating Jon avoided looking her in the eye as he mumbled. “Oh you know, just the usual.”

What was it with women needing to know every little detail? If a woman cooked for him, the last thing on his mind would be what was in the damn sauce. Truth was he hadn’t the first clue what the ingredients were, that was very much Alice’s department and she’d probably call for a doctor if he ever showed even the slightest interest in how she made some of the delicious dishes she spoiled him with. She'd been more than suspicious when he'd asked her that morning to leave something in the fridge that he could finish off in the oven but as usual she'd outdone herself. Her lasagne was truly spectacular.

“More wine?” Lifting the wine bottle with a flourish he swiftly changed the subject.

“So how was your day? Did your furniture arrive?”

He knew full well her furniture had arrived having spent most of the day over in the studio keeping a watchful eye on the queue of big trucks that had rolled up her driveway. But he wasn’t about to let her in on that particular secret.

“Yeah, it’s all there now thankfully.” Wiping her mouth on a napkin, Rachel smiled tiredly at him. “It doesn’t feel like I’m living in a cave now at least.”

Over the course of dinner they chatted companionably while Sam sang softly in the background, the soothing lilt of his creamy voice carrying across the patio and floating away on the still night air. Rachel filled Jon in on her day of organising the craziness of the staging company and more on what her actual job entailed. He found himself strangely fascinated as she enthusiastically covered most aspects of modern real estate, reeling off facts and figures of the market as easily as she breathed.

With every sip of wine she became more animated, laughter tinkling from her as she reminisced on some of the more interesting characters she’d dealt with over the years. Reclining back in his chair, Jon nodded with interest; he had to hand it to her. This girl really knew her business inside and out.

“So say I was to put this place on the market? What’s it worth – realistically?”

He motioned with his eyes to the shadows of his house that towered behind them as he refilled both their glasses.

Rachel blew out a low whistle. “Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Putting it on the market?”

Half twisting in her chair to gaze up at the impressive building Rachel did some quick mental calculations, her memory flashing back to the tour he’d given her.

“Maybe….” Jon answered her cryptically, a sneaky grin on his face as he watched her eyes dart over the outside of the house. “Depends on the figure you come up with……”

Rachel gave a small snort as she turned back in her chair to face him, incredulity filling her eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re in need of a few bucks?!”

Grinning Jon leisurely stretched his arms out wide before returning his hands to gently rub his full stomach.

“Times are tough baby!”

“Well if times are tough for YOU then the rest of us are completely screwed!”

She laughed openly across the table at him before tuning her business head back in.

“Well bouncing your house as a price comparison against the one I’m currently in, you’re somewhere in the region of twenty million, or thereabouts……BUT………..”

She held up a finger indicating she wasn’t done, “…..with you being the celebrity you are that’s gonna bump the price tag up considerably.”

Jon’s grin widened and he chuckled. “Alright then, hit me – what’s my celebrity worth?”

Rachel pursed her lips in thought, “Roughly, taking everything into consideration with the current market, probably another couple of million on top of that.”

“Not bad I suppose.” Jon stuck out his lower lip. “Then again, it might not be worth it after what I’d have to pay someone to sell it!”

She laughed back at him, the combination of the wine and easy conversation filling her body with warmth and relaxation. Licking her lips, she arched a golden eyebrow at him.

“Oh I dunno about that, I’m sure you could find someone who’d cut you a good deal.”

Smirking Jon leaned forward in his chair, letting his foot gently bump her leg under the table.

“Got any recommendations for me?”

His touch sent shivers of delight up her bare leg, goose bumps rising on her smooth skin as she giggled straight into his twinkling eyes.

“I know a girl………”

Rachel could barely recognise her own voice that simpered back seductively at him, her foot instinctively rising to meet his denim covered leg, her toes curling around his taut calf muscle.

“I hear she’s real good………..”

The soft drawl of her voice made Jon’s gut clench and the little dance her toes were seductively tapping out on his leg were sending clear signals to his groin making him shudder with anticipation. Reaching for his glass he threw back the last of his wine, draining it in a single swallow before he stretched a hand over to her.

 “What do you say we dance out a deal of sorts?”