Ch 31 ~ In The Loop

Liquor and food both flowed freely at the post-orgasmic party convening high above the Las Vegas strip, and all of the Jovi brotherhood seemed to enjoy themselves.  For an already mello Rachel, it was a truly relaxing evening in which she found herself comfortably slipping further into Jon’s world. 

While she’d met the band back in New Jersey when they were working on the record, she was glad for more of a chance to interact with the men who made up such a huge part of Jon’s past and present.  So far, each of them had been kind and congenial, readily accepting Rachel into their inner circle with a minimum of crude jokes and banter.  Truthfully, the crude jokes and banter were pretty entertaining with a little tequila under her belt.

Their significant others had also been in attendance tonight and she was introduced to them for the first time.  The meeting went pretty well from her perspective.  Like their counterparts, the women were friendly – or at least as friendly as they needed to be. 

Women came and went in the private lives of these men and they didn’t know that she’d be any different.  Rachel took no offense that they didn’t immediately draw her in like a long, lost friend and start sharing their deepest secrets.  She would have been suspicious if they had. 

Jon and Rachel were feeling the effects of the merriment, but no pain, when they left the party in Matt’s able care.  He may have been the youngest of the three Bongiovi brothers, and maybe that made him try that much harder, but he was diligent in his role of bodyguard, accompanying them all the way to the suite door before bidding them a good night.  Matt’s ornery smile reminded Rachel of Jon when he bent from his gargantuan height to kiss her cheek, telling her slyly to, “Take it easy on the old man.”

Once inside, Jon headed to the bathroom while Rachel kicked her sexy sandals off, shrinking a good four inches in the process.  Padding noiselessly over to the suite’s refrigerator, she lifted a bottle of water from inside and plopped on the couch. 

“So… a party like tonight?” she asked when Jon joined her, throwing an arm across her legs. “You end up picking up the tab for all that?”

“Oh sure.”  He helped himself to a deep swallow of her water before returning the bottle to her.  “Honey, anything you see on this tour I’ve ultimately picked up the tab for.  Every bottle of water, cup of coffee…  Every roll of toilet papers comes right off the top.”

“Do you ever get tired of it?  I mean, always being the one responsible for paying every penny of every bill?”

“I don’t end up paying for everything with you.  If I remember correctly, you picked up the tab for a might pricey vacation in Turks and Caicos.” Jon leaned across to kiss her, lingering a little longer than really necessary.  “You’ve always made a point of trying to do things for me that nobody else does.  I’m aware of it and appreciate the effort, even though it isn’t necessary.  As for the other?  It’s part of the beast of this organization.  Somebody has to be the guy that cuts the checks and that falls on me.  I’m used to it.”

She couldn’t fathom his having sole financial responsibility for all of those people and their comings and goings.  It was almost beyond her comprehension.   

“Oh.  Since you brought up work,” he continued. “I just want you in the loop on something Paul brought to my attention after the show.”

“Mmm.”  His thumb was stroking lazily up her leg as he spoke, making her not really care.  Her head fell back against the couch as she mumbled, “What’s that?”

“There’s a girl I spent a couple hours with, and she’s gone to the press.  It’s nothing, really, but I didn’t want you to to be caught off guard by reporters or the story in the papers.”

Her head slowly lifted back to its former upright position as snakes of dread coiled in her belly.  If it was nothing, he wouldn’t be telling her about it.  “Care to translate exactly what that means?”

“It means she’s sold a story of her night with me and it will be in the tabloids for a couple weeks until the next celebrity scandal.”

Jon’s air quotes around the word ‘scandal’ combined with the rolling of his eyes and matter of fact approach were probably meant to reassure her, but they didn’t exactly settle the serpent writhing its way through her gut.  Its warning hiss and rattle coaxed Rachel to strike out at the danger.

“Her night with YOU?  What… the fuck… are you telling me, Jon?”

Unlike him and his Jersey entourage, the “F” word wasn’t her favorite term of endearment, so her use of it should’ve offered Jon a clue as to how… unhappy she was about the loop she’d just been dragged into.  Yet, he still looked stunned when she threw his arm off of her and sat up ramrod-straight, fixing him with an accusatory glare.

“Calm down, Rach.”  He was unnervingly blasé about the whole thing.  “It happened weeks ago.  Before you and I were back together.”

Weeks ago, he says. Well, that made it all better now, didn’t it? This week he wasn’t being a man-whore.  

The snake tried to slither its way from her stomach, through her esophagus in the form of an acidic bile that scorched Rachel’s throat.  “Is she… pregnant?”

“Oh God, no!  Jesus, Rach!” he exclaimed as though she were being ludicrous.  “I used rubbers the whole time.  You know I’m careful like that.”

“Uh, you weren’t with me the first time.”

He flipped his hand carelessly in the air. “That was different.”

“Why?  Why was it different, Jon?”  She rose from the sofa, parking the bottle of water on the coffee table and went in search of something with a little more bite.  She wanted her happy little buzz back from earlier.  The one that made her giggly and horny and let her pretend she was the only woman ever in Jon’s life. 

A bottle of premium tequila on the bar commanded her attention as effortlessly as if it had been bearing a neon sign flashing DRINK ME, and Rachel made a beeline for it. 

“Oh, come on, Rach...”

“What?” she demanded, pulling the top out of the bottle and quickly scouring the area for a glass.  “I was just the hot neighbor whose panties you wanted to get into.  You said so yourself.  You sure as hell didn’t slow down long enough to put a condom on before you slammed me up against the kitchen wall.  Why would I have any reason to believe you were any more careful with some groupie whore you picked up out of a crowd?”

He remained seated, pointing a single finger at her.  “Just so we’re both remembering the same night, you weren’t exactly fighting me off that kitchen wall.  Or the bed later that night.  Or the shower that next morning.  So, let’s not paint me the big bad wolf and you the lily-white virgin, okay?  You were as hot for me as I was for you.  As for the difference between you and said groupie whore, I knew you weren’t gonna give me the clap, so I wasn’t as concerned about a rubber as I normally would have been. ”

She poured the tequila into one of the crystal highballs she found on the bar and turned to salute him with her drink. 

“Well that’s wonderful.  In fact, that’s so beautiful I could cry.  I didn’t set off your clap radar, but this girl you weren’t so sure about, huh?  Maybe she’d give you something you couldn’t get rid of?   Well thank God for your gift of VD discernment...” 

She shuddered and threw back a slug of her tequila.  Where the hell was her happy place? Surely it was in this glass someplace? 

As the liquid gold seeped into her veins, she narrowed her eyes at him.   “Are you sure she’s not pregnant?  I mean, if she sold her story, there’s got to be a point to it.  What’s the headline here, Jon?”

He blew out a breath and picked up Rachel’s discarded water bottle, glugging down two-thirds of it in one gulp.  “I don’t have all the details yet.   Paul only knew she was saying she and her friend spent the night with me and claimed I had to take Viagra, which is bullshit.  I’ve never taken one of those pills in my life.  Well... once, but that was just for fun.”

The tequila-drenched snake had friends.  At least five or six of them had just hatched in Rachel’s stomach.  She was going to be sick with shock, anger, disgust and awe at the lowlife behavior of the man she loved

“Wait a minute.  Back up.  She AND HER FRIEND spent the night with you?” 

Please tell me I misunderstood.  Tell me you weren’t sleazy enough to do a threesome.

“Yes.”  He shattered her hope with firmly set jaw. “She and her friend.”

“That is...  disgusting,” she hissed, clunking her empty glass down on the bar.

“Oh C’mon, Rachel!” He was finally starting to show a little emotion.  She could see the quick flash of anger in his eyes as she reached once again for the tequila bottle.  “I had a fuckfest with a couple of women who don’t mean a damn thing to me.  It happens.  It was hardly one for the record books.  I mean, Christ... I didn’t even go down on ‘em.   I’m sorry you’re having to deal with it, but it happened while we were apart and it doesn’t have a goddamn thing to do with US!”

Really.  He could be a total pig, a total clichéd rock star, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with them.  Because it happened while they were apart.  Two whole weeks ago. 

“I can’t believe the sleazy things you do sometimes.”

That was Jon’s tipping point.  He was no longer anything close to blasé and a little emotion spewed into a lot as he jumped to his feet, throwing his arms out to the sides.  “You really wanna do this, Rach?  You wanna start back up with the fighting like rabid dogs?  I don’t.  This happened while we were apart.  Do you get that?”

“I get that perfectly, but for crying out loud, Jon!  You’re nearly 50 years old and still find a threesome worthy of your time.  That doesn’t have anything to do with us being apart, that’s just who you are and it’s pretty gross.”

“Oh yeah?”  He stalked two steps toward her, his quieter voice brimming with antagonism.  “Have you noticed that I’ve never once – not once, Rachel – asked what happened on your end while we were apart?  Your ex-boyfriend slash new boss who saved you from my evil clutches and whisked you away to secret corners of the world so you could have your pseudo nervous breakdown claims he wants to make you his next wife and the mother of his children.  Tells me this shit to my face, but I still never asked what happened between you and James while you were gone.  You know why?  Because it has nothing to do with m – us.  It has nothing to do with US!”

She laughed mirthlessly and screwed her face into a disbelieving sneer.  “No, Jon.  You haven’t asked because you don’t want to know!  And you don’t want to know because it’s painful to think of me naked against James, fucking his brains out.   Just like it’s painful for me to think of you with another woman that way.  And the whole threesome thing  just takes it to another level of vile painfulness.”

Fuck, Jon thought.  I’m not doing this again.  It isn’t getting us anywhere we need to be.

Rachel facing the other direction, topped off her glass, and he exhaled sharply, coaxing the anger to leave his body along with the bad air.  Jon took the few steps that would put him directly behind her and slid his arms around her waist. 

When he pulled her against him, she went stiff, but made no move to break away.  Jon took courage in that, hoping it meant she didn’t want to tear each other apart either.   Despite all outward appearances, they might actually be making progress in this relationship.

“I don’t wanna do this, Rach,” he murmured into her hair as she drank.  “Let’s dial it back before we say things we regret.”

“Too bad you didn’t take that approach before you DID something we regret,” she spat, clearly not ready to revert to hearts and roses yet, so Jon slowly released her.  “But now I’m the bad guy who needs to dial it back because I don’t happen to like that the man I’m in love is still whoring around like a twenty year old.”

She threw back the small amount of clear liquid remaining in the bottom of her glass before reaching for the bottle again and continuing on her rant.  “I can’t WAIT to face my entire family at the wedding this weekend.  How fun that will be!  I mean, I get to explain all this shit to my parents while you’re off playing rock star again.  What a crock!”

“I think you’ve had enough booze for one night, babe,” he suggested, easing the bottle from her hands.  At this rate, she’d end up with alcohol poisoning by morning.

She whirled around to face him, gripping the tequila with determined fingers.  It was the first time Jon had gotten a good, clear look at her face since telling her and he was surprised at what he found there. 

Despite the tirade that she’d been spouting off, it wasn’t hard to see that she wasn’t really angry.  Her eyes weren’t spitting fire, her nostrils weren’t flared.  All of the classic ‘tells’ were missing.  That meant Rachel wasn’t pissed – she was hurt.

Dammit all to hell...

He stepped into her, opening his mouth to apologize, but she tore into him again before he could form the words. 

“I’ve not had nearly enough, babe,” she mocked. “I’m probably just getting started, as a matter of fact.” 

The tequila bottle went from his custody to hers when he willingly let it go.  In a hot second, she had sloshed another serving of her favorite poison and was turning back to address him with it in hand. 

“Let me tell you something, Jon:  all these months we’ve been apart I have ached for you every single second of the day.  That’s not an exaggeration, it’s just a plainly stated fact.  I ached for you.   I’d wake up in the morning and run until my legs were rubber just to be able to face the day.  And then, at night, I’d do it again hoping it would exhaust me enough so that I'd have a prayer of sleeping.”

She defiantly took another swig.  “You don’t need to wonder what I’ve been up to with James, you dumbass.  Wanna know why?  Because as hard as I tried to fall in love with him again, I couldn’t let him in my heart again because you still had the whole damn thing.  So you sure as hell didn’t need to worry about him being in my bed!”

Another swallow had the glass empty and she nearly slammed it down on the bar before delivering her closing speech. 

“But you?  You didn’t have any trouble getting it up for a couple two-bit skanks, did you, Jon?  No… While I pined for you, you fucked anything in sight.  But hey, you didn’t go down on them, right?  And it was no big deal to you.  Isn’t that what you said?  Well guess what?!  It’s a big fuckin’ deal to me.”

Ch 30 ~ Bi-Pole-er

With Rachel and their “FunFest” keeping him both happy and invigorated, it had been little or no effort for Jon to make the Vegas show live up to its usual high-energy standards.  He was pleasantly exhausted and satisfied as he walked to his dressing room.  Knowing he’d given his all and a damn good performance, he mentally moved on to the rest of his night – Rachel and the after party.  If he hustled, he could be showered before she joined him backstage.

Hopping in the shower, he found himself singing an old Bob Seger tune as he lathered away the stage sweat.  Despite the physically demanding evening, he was in a good mood and he didn’t have to wonder at the source – it was all Rachel.

There was simply a greater sense of contentment when she was around.  Period.  Like he’d told her before, home was wherever she was.  As long as he could wake up beside her and know she’d be there when he dragged his weary ass into bed at the end of the night, he was happy.  Hell, her presence even made the “phony” and “tacky” Las Vegas feel like home.

Jon chuckled as he lifted his face to the showerhead to rinse the soap away.  He, personally, was grateful to Las Vegas and it now held a very special place in his heart.   It was the place that had finally given them a chance to spend more than a couple hours together.  It was where they’d effortlessly reverted right back into the comfortable rapport they’d had from the early days in Jersey – both in and out of the bedroom. 

He found her just as intoxicating today as he had back in those early days.  Maybe moreso, now that he’d taken the time to really look and listen without his over-inflated ego obstructing the view.  Emotionally, spiritually, mentally – and certainly physically – he felt a connection to her that superseded anything else he’d ever known.  It gave him a deep-seated appreciation for her and for their ability to work beyond the hurts they’d carelessly inflicted upon one another. 

It was a blessing and he knew it.  Couples so often destroyed themselves beyond repair and the fact that he and Rachel were back together again, fighting for the love that they had instead of throwing their hands up and walking away was nothing but God smiling down on Jon Bon Jovi. 

There was no way in hell was he taking that for granted.  He was determined to be a better man and not make the same mistakes he’d made with her before.  The months without her had made for a wretched, miserable and lonely Jonny.  Even the vaguest thought of returning to that kind of existence…  Well, he had enough balls to admit it scared the living shit out of him.

No way, no how, not fuckin’ happenin' if I have a fighting breath left in my body.

He had just stepped out of the shower, his thoughts drifting to the after party, when he heard a knock on his dressing room door.  Jon grinned as he wrapped the towel around his waist.

Rachel.

“It’s open!”

His grin faded a bit when the door swung inward.  It wasn’t Rachel’s blonde head that came bobbing through the door, it was his tour manager, Paul.  And, by all appearances, he appeared to be flying solo.

“Hey Pauly.  Is Rachel with you?”

The big, burly man shook his head, looking unhappy.  “No.  I asked Mike to give us a minute before bringing her back.” 

Jon didn’t like the idea of Rachel being left on the arena floor and trying to get backstage on her own, but he liked the somber face of his tour manager even less.  “Why?  What’s up?”

“Ken just let me know TMZ’s running a story from some woman who claims she spent the night with you in Seattle – and that she wasn’t alone.  She contends you fucked her AND her girlfriend, then sent them packing.   Seems she didn’t like the way you dismissed her and claims you used Viagra.  Is there anything to it?”

Jon’s good mood was flushed down the toilet in a giant ‘whoosh’, leaving a royally pissed-off Jersey boy in its wake.  The press had been kind to him in his career but, then again, there hadn’t been much to be unkind about.  He was rock music’s poster-boy for philanthropy, good deeds and all that crap.  All of that ultimately outweighed who a single man chose to get his rocks off with, so there was no doubt the story would die a quiet death in a few days. 

He was mostly annoyed that it required any kind of “dealing with” at all, let alone tonight when he was looking forward to the after party with his friends and his girl.

“That’s bullshit.  I’ve never needed Viagra a day in my life.” 

“So the rest is true true?” Paul pressed.

Jon’s brow was still sharply creased with aggravation as his shoulder lifted carelessly.  “Yeah, I spent some time with a couple girls.”

“Jonny,” his manager explained patiently, even though he now looked as annoyed as Jon felt.  “If you don’t tell me about this shit I can’t protect you.  You know that.”  He sighed the put-upon sigh of one who has to deal with idiots.  “No confidentiality clauses were signed, I assume.”

Jon was the one used to being in the power seat and he didn’t like being put on the spot like this.   The other man’s accusatory tone didn’t sit well and had him instantaneously bristling.  “That’s not my fuckin’ job, Paul.  That’s yours.  Anybody that gets near me is supposed to sign all that shit.  One of the girls was the rep from one of the radio stations!  How did she get that close to me without it???”

“I don’t know.  I’m gonna have to find out, obviously.  Who’s the other girl?”

That night in Seattle wasn’t one of Jon’s more lucid memories.  He had a vague recollection of the women, but hadn’t given them another thought since the hotel door had closed. 

“I can’t remember – if I ever knew.  I think she was a vendor… or a cheerleader or some shit.  I dunno… whatever.   Get ahold of Ken and make it go away.”  This is why he paid his publicist a sum that put him in the same tax bracket as Jesus.  “I don’t wanna deal with this shit right now.  I’ve just gotten things back on track with Rachel, and I wanna have a good time tonight.”

The knock on the door effectively ended the conversation between artist and tour manager.  A beautifully familiar blonde head popped around the door, filling Jon with a calming peace, but the pleasant smile Rachel was wearing went stiff when she sensed the palpable tension in the room. 

“I’m sorry.  Am I interrupting?” she inquired, stopping just inside the doorway.

“Nah, just work bullshit.” Jon tossed the towel he was drying his hair with to the floor and reached his arm out for her.  She immediately stepped into him for the kiss he’d been silently requesting.  “Paul’ll handle it.”

“I’ll need to go over this with you later tonight, JonBoy…”

“Yeah.  Whatever.  I’m gonna change and go to the party.  Let me know what you find out.”

“Rachel,” Paul politely nodded in her direction as he stepped by.  “Nice to see you again.”

Rachel wasn’t sure what had happened between the two men, but the tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with the proverbial knife.   There was a sense of foreboding in the air that made her arm hair stand on end, but whatever the issue, it apparently had nothing to do with her.  She was happy to accept Paul’s kiss to her cheek as he left the room and was even happier to be alone with Jon.

Then again, happy was her middle name tonight.  If your boyfriend couldn’t sit with you at a concert, Jose Cuervo was a pretty damn good substitute.

Slipping an arm around his bare, damp waist, Rachel curled into him and possessively kissed the equally damp curls of hair on his chest.  Those women drooling over his chest could just eat their hearts out.  He belonged to Rachel.

“Yanno….” she breathed with admiration.  “You really are amazing at this rock star thing.  I hope it doesn’t sound condescending, but I was very proud of you tonight.  Even prouder to call you mine.”

He hooked a finger around her chin, lifting it for a kiss and not bothering to remove his lips before asking, “Why’s that, baby?”

“You’re a different man on the stage,” she purred, hands beginning to meander over his chest as though they had a mind of their own.  “Different, but somehow still the same, only grander.  I know you’ve worked hard to get where you are, and you were magnificent tonight.”

“Magnificent, huh?  That’s gonna be tough to top.”

Rachel pressed herself against his towel draped body, noting with pleasure that the towel was becoming a tent in certain spots.  “But think of all the fun we’re gonna have trying to top it,” she giggled.  

Jon’s eyebrow kicked up and he regarded her in that certain “knowing” way.  How could he not know?  She wasn’t making any secret of the fact that she was horny. In fact, she was about a tequila shot away from humping his leg.  The thought of that hairy thigh scraping between her oh-so-aware inner thighs… 

“I could probably do magnificent, if that’s what you’re up for tonight,” he moaned as she wrapped herself around him like a stripper pole.

“I want you to top magnificent tonight.  Do you still have any energy left for me, or did you waste it all on those hot, horny women in the pit?” she purred, wondering if she could hang upside down on him like those exotic dancers did their poles.

Jon pulled back and looked straight into her eyes.  “What have you been drinking, young lady???”

“Straight tequila.”

“I’m singing my guts out and you’re doing shots at the side of my stage, huh?”

“Only two shots,” she clarified, even though she knew he didn’t give a shit how many it had been as long as he was going to reap the benefits.  “And I sipped them.  Kinda.  But I have a healthy buzz and it’s focused on working your pole.”

“Thank you, Jesus.”  Jon looked to the ceiling and crossed himself, his erection now full and hard enough to pull the towel loose.  It slithered silently to the floor, revealing his intention to immediately take her up on the offer. 

“Now?” she questioned with wide eyes as her panties became sodden with excitement.  She’d never had sex in a dressing room before.

“Don’t be a cocktease, Rach.  I’m hard as a rock and it ain’t goin’ away on its own.  You started this… now you gotta put your money where your mouth is.  Or put your mouth where my dick is.  Whatever.”

As his hands slipped under her sweater, she wrapped hers around the length of him and stroked.   She was throbbing almost as intently as he was.  “Aren’t you gonna lock the door?”

“No,” he grunted, flicking the clasp of her bra. “Isn’t gonna take long enough to bother with it.” 

He ripped the sweater over the top of her head, sending her left earring flying across the room, before releasing the button on her jeans.  The zipper slid open with a naughty hiss and Rachel squirmed as he slid the denim and her sopping panties down and over her feet.  She was buck-naked except for the sexiest shoes she’d ever owned, and that turned her on with the force of two more tequila shots.

He pushed her up against the door, removing any lingering reservations she might have had about privacy, and literally pawed at her body.  Jon wasn’t even pretending to do the foreplay thing and that suited Rachel just fine.  All she really wanted was to feel that hard cock split her wide open and pound her into a quivering mass of jelly. 

She nearly screamed with delight when he hoisted her by fiercely gripped buttocks, spread her wide and rammed into her with a guttural grunt. 

“That’s it, baby,” she heard him say.  “Like a fuckin’ vice…..”

Rachel bit down on her lip and closed her eyes as he ravaged her like a primal, Neanderthal male.  Nothing existed outside of him, her and the happy haze of lust and tequila.

Ch 29 ~ Fun In Sin City

“Alright, Princess… Up and at ‘em!  It’s fun, fun, fun day in Las Vegas.”

Jon’s enthusiastic voice, his weight on the bed beside her, his hand patting her hip and the scent of coffee were Rachel’s first bits of morning consciousness.  Why was he being so cruel as to wake her?  It was early, the bed was sooooo comfy….

“Go ‘way.  It’s too early to have fun,” she grumbled, pulling the covers up over her shoulder and burrowing down into the mattress.

“Bullshit.  It’s nearly one o’clock.  I’ve already worked out, had a shower and a gallon of coffee.  If you don’t get that beautiful little ass out of bed soon, my plans for ‘fun day’ will be shot.”

One o’clock?  What?? 

Rachel’s forehead furrowed in denial, unable to believe it was early afternoon.  In her entire life she’d never slept until one in the afternoon!  The days and nights with Jon were clearly playing havoc with her internal body clock. 

“Why can’t we just sleep the day away?” she groaned, turning her face into the pillow to block the light.

The words had no more left her mouth than covers were whipped back, casting a slight chill over her naked body.  “Unacceptable.  When you were in Miami you went out on the town with that dipshit James because you ‘needed some fun in your life’.  Well, I’m gonna show you so much extreme fun, you’ll be begging for mercy by the end of the day.  Now get up.”

The sharp smack of his hand on her backside startled Rachel’s eyes wide open with a yelp.  She flipped to her back and eyed him crossly.  “You’re an asshole sometimes, yanno?  I’m so tired that my hair hurts and the room feels like it’s spinning.  How can you possibly be awake and alert?”

“Thirty years of having my days and nights run together.  Don’t worry, the body acclimates pretty quickly,” he assured her, holding out the cup of coffee in his hand, fully dressed and ready to face the day.  “You’ll get used to the vampire hours.”

Rachel dragged into a sitting position, propped herself up and accepted the liquid life Jon offered.  She groaned with appreciation as that first blessed sip hit her tastebuds and slid down her throat.  With enough of this, she might actually be able to function. 

Cradling the cup in both hands, she let her head thunk back against the leather padded headboard and allowed her eyelids to close for a moment more.  “I don’t need to get used to this crazy life of yours.  I’ll be going home in a couple days.”

“Yeah.  I’ve been thinking about that.”  Jon took the coffee mug from her, sipped and returned it to her before continuing his thought.  “You’ve always said you loved your job because it let you work from anywhere most of the time.   So… how feasible is it for you to travel with me after Vegas?”

Despite the lack of alert brain cells, she knew the answer to that without hesitating.

“I can’t.  My niece is getting married next weekend, and I have to get back to help Robin with the last minute stuff.   Leanne is the only girl in the family now, so this wedding is a huge deal.  They’ll disown me if I miss it.”  She took another drink of coffee and squinted one eye up at him.  “Any chance you can come with me?”

Jon reached for his phone and swiped the screen, bringing it to life and tapping on the calendar app.  “When is it?”

“Saturday the 13^th.  At noon.”

Studying the information in front of him, Jon’s frown told Rachel the answer before he spoke it.  “Shit.  I’ve got a show in Fargo that night.   I’m sorry, babe.  I wish I could be there with you… for you.   It’s hard to prove to you that you’re the number one priority in my life when the first big thing comes up and I’m somewhere else.”

Was that what she’d done?  Made him feel like he constantly had to prove himself?  That wasn’t what she’d meant to do.  He’d told her she wouldn’t be second-best anymore and she’d accepted it at face-value.  He needed to know that. 

“Stop it.”  Rachel carefully parked the coffee mug on the bedside table and stroked the side of Jon’s unshaven face.  “I don’t expect you to stop the world because I have a wedding to go to.  I completely understand you have commitments – that’s never been my issue.  I just wanted to be sure that I won’t get tossed aside because somebody else wants your attention somewhere else.  And you know what I’m talking about, right?”

“I do.”  Jon grinned. “And I promise you that will never be a problem again.  It may take a smack in the head with a two-by-four sometimes, but I learn from my mistakes.”

“Good.”  She nodded with satisfaction and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth.  “I’m glad we’re on the same track.  As for travel, I’ll have to get your schedule and see where and when I can meet up with you.   Fair enough?”

“Mm,” he murmured noncommittally, patting her on the thigh and standing.  “We’ll talk about it tonight.  Right now, you need to get up and get ready.  I’m taking you on a hike and then we’re zip-lining Red Rock.”

Rachel groaned silently. 

Bongiovi-style fun might just kill me…

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

Rachel had endured as much fun as any one human could be expected to in a single afternoon.  She was hot, sweaty and drained by the time they returned from Jon’s adventure-slash-fun day and a cool, refreshing shower was the only thing that would make it better. 

Once that was accomplished, she leisurely enjoyed preparing herself for an evening out.  Rachel touched up her nail polish, lotioned her skin within an inch of its life, pulled her hair up into a casual twist and artfully applied a light coating of makeup.   Pushing a pair of diamond studs into her ears, she appreciated that Jon had remained scarce for the last little bit.  Just as he seemed to instinctively know so much, he knew that she would appreciate the time to herself after such a grueling day.

And she had.  By the time she found him sipping some pre-dinner wine in the living room, she was all smiles.  Rachel cocked her head curiously, wondering why he was wearing a lopsided grin along with his dark jeans and button-down shirt.

“What are you smiling about?”

“I was just remembering the way you screamed on that second zip line today.  Damn, that was priceless.”  Over the rim of his glass, Jon looked her up and down and gave her a wolfish leer that properly conveyed his appreciation.  The leer intensified as his eyes settled on her feet.  “Are those the shoes you bought in Miami?”

Rachel’s own eyes flicked down to the snakeskin sandals and back to Jon.   She knew she looked good.  The solid black dress exposed only one shoulder, but the hem was cut just below her thigh.  It exposed enough skin to be alluring without looking trashy, and the fit across her breasts was perfect.   

“Mm-hmm… You like?” she purred.

“Ohhhhhh yeah.  They’re worth every dime of whatever you paid for ‘em.”  It was his turn to cock his head curiously to the side.  “Yanno, I used to have a suit like that in the 90’s and I gotta say, baby, snakeskin looks better on you than me.”

She giggled and eased closer to the sofa, kicking out one hip and propping her hand on it.  “I shouldn’t have worn them for you after the day you made me put in.  Tonight’s continuation of the fun better be closer to the ground.”

A quick tug had her pulled onto his lap and Jon nuzzled into her neck.  Wet, biting kisses were peppered along the length of the shoulder she’d left bare.  “If you’re gonna run with me, you’re gonna have to learn to fly, Rach.”

She slapped at him and wiggled away, laughing, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Bongiovi.  I’m all dressed up in my sexiest shoes for you.  I intend to be seen in them – OUT of this hotel room!”

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

When Rachel said she wanted to show off her sexy shoes, she assumed it would be in a nice restaurant.  They were headed straight out to dinner, right?

Wrong.  Sooooo, so wrong.

Dinner was being pushed aside for the next phase of Jon’s FunFest.

That’s how Rachel ended up smack dab in the middle of the Las Vegas strip at the New York, New York Hotel and Casino – being escorted to the front of the line for a roller coaster. 

In a short skirt and heels. 

Yet, determined to be a good sport, she smiled her way through the awkwardness of hiking her mostly-bare leg over the side of a taxi cab yellow roller coaster car.  What choice did she have?   Photographers – both professional and amateur – were capturing virtually their every moment from the time they stepped on property. 

He was, after all, a celebrity.  Jon had been in the spotlight for most of his adult life, so the whole thing was old hat to him.  He waved, he smiled a bit, he flashed the peace sign a couple of times. 

Rachel, on the other hand, found the entire scene a little overwhelming.  They’d been photographed together at various functions and fundraisers, but she hadn’t been prepared for this.  Once they left the privacy of their hotel room, the sheer numbers of paparazzi became… daunting. 

For the most part, he’d been able to keep them in motion, but once strapped into the ride, they were captive targets for the cameras.  The only upside to all the shutters flashing was that Rachel was distracted from the height of the ride itself.  She found herself more worried about what her hair was going to look like afterward.

Eventually, Jon pried himself away from a crowd at the ride’s exit after signing a few autographs and answering a couple random questions.  Rachel was relieved when they were then whisked away to the rooftop terrace of a nearby high-rise building for a private dining experience.  They were presented a stellar view of the twinkling and bustling Las Vegas strip, but it was blessedly free of the crowds and noise. 

They were completely alone, except for the wait staff and the night breeze. 

Jon had made sure that the exclusive catered affair included all the typical romantic elements – white tablecloth, fine china and crystal stemware, exquisite floral arrangements, gourmet food and wine.  He’d thought of absolutely everything, and Rachel was impressed. 

She was even more impressed with how relaxed and easy things between them were.  They talked about everything and nothing while enjoying one another’s company more than the meal. 

They had finished their meal, followed by an assortment of desserts that Paula Deen would have been envious of, and were now sipping Rachel’s favorite after dinner liqueur.  It surprised her that he’d thought of it at all, really.  Jon hadn’t been a fan of Frangelico but, over their time together, he’d seemingly acquired a taste for the sweet drink. 

She swirled the warmed hazelnut liquid and sipped, eyeing Jon over the rim of the glass.  “You suddenly got quiet.  What’s up?”

He smiled widely.  “Trying to figure out how to pitch an idea to you.  It has to be presented in the perfect setting with the perfect timing so that I can effectively further lure you into my clutches.”

“How about you just spit it out, honey,” was her bemused suggestion.

Jon set his snifter down on the side of the table and fingered the stem before pointing at the Vegas strip.  “See that ‘phony’ Eiffel Tower, as you call it?”

“Yeah.  What about it?”

“How about I take you to the real one?”

Well that was a no brainer.  Hell-ooo Paris!

“Name the time and the place, handsome.  I’ll be there with bells on!”

Crossing his legs, he didn’t miss a beat.  “San Jose International Airport, June first.” 

“Excuse me?”  Rachel coughed as her surprise caused the Frangelico to go down the wrong way.  “Are you kidding me?”

“Not even a little bit.  The band is playing London the whole month of June.  Well, almost the whole month.  There’s another show here or there, including Paris, but we’ll be based in London the whole time. I want you there with me.”

Rachel’s head spun.  The excitement of spending that much time in Europe put the gears of her mind in fast forward, trying to find a way to work out the logistics of such a trip.  Leanne’s wedding would be over with.  With technology being what it was, she could just as easily work from London or Paris as she could the office in California. 

“Rach?  Whaddaya think?”

She thought she’d likely sell bone marrow to make this happen, but there were details to contend with.  Those had to be worked and it was going to take her a moment to think through the adrenaline rush his invitation had caused. 

“Gimme a minute.”

He cleared his throat and casually reminded her, “You told me once that you’d never been.  And that it’s on your bucket list….”

“It is!  I mean, I’d do backflips for that trip with you.  I’m trying to mentally juggle everything and figure out how to make it work.  I’ll have to see what James thinks of me being gone so long but- “

“Fuck James,” Jon snorted crudely and flipped his middle finger in the air.  “I don’t give a shit what he thinks.”

Rachel pushed her chair back and moved to Jon’s lap, pushing the windblown hair off his forehead and fingering it back into place.  “I love it when you go all Jersey on me, but James IS my boss and I’ll need to talk to him about it.”

“I’d just as soon tie bricks to his pathetic excuse for a body and throw him in the Navesink as ask his permission for anything,” Jon grunted, tossing back the remainder of his drink.  “Why don’t you just tell him to take his job and shove it?  He only uses it as a way to stay close to you anyway.  Pfft!  ‘Future mother of his children’, my ass.”

“Be nice,” she chortled, unreasonably amused by his attitude.  James was a nice guy, but Jon just had no use for him.  “I feel a little sorry for James.  He’s wasted a lot of years and went through a lot of great women.  Now that he’s grown up and ready to really settle down, he can’t find Ms. Right.  I think that’s sad.”

“I don’t know what you ever saw in the fucker.”

“Oh stop, already!” she ordered, stifling her laughter.  “Tell me all about all the things we’re going to do in Paris.”

“So you’ll come?”

“I’ll come – if you’ll take me to a place with a view like this.”  She put a sharp finger into his shoulder and tapped.  “Only next time I want a view of the real thing.  No more phony Eiffel Towers, okay?” 

He readily agreed and Rachel bent to kiss his mouth.  That one movement made just enough room for his hand to creep between her legs and up the inside of her inner thigh. 

“Wait until you see it at night, baby.  I know just the place I want to take you – private, secluded and a view of Paris that will take your breath away.  And don’t forget London.  You’ll love it there, too.”  His hand slithered all the way up her thigh, fingertips slipping just inside the elastic of her panties.  “Much as I want us to do Europe, I do kinda like being in Sin City with you…”

It was embarrassing, really, how heady the man made her.  With just the tiniest flick of his fingernail, she was wet beyond reason and couldn’t wait to get him alone in the privacy of their hotel room. 

Rachel’s teeth scraped Jon’s bottom lip as she flicked her tongue against his and wiggled against the pressure of his hand, anxious for the Vegas FunFest to end with a more adult kind of entertainment.  Right now, the “funnest” thing Rachel could imagine was their naked bodies wound around each other so that she could ride him like that roller coaster.

“It has nothing to do with the city, sweetheart.  You just like that I’m a willing participant to the sin.” 

Ch 28 ~ Bi-Polarity

He has GOT to stop dropping these bombs on me!

Rachel’s mind was the only thing in motion after Jon’s little announcement.  The rest of her was frozen in his grasp and she couldn’t move past the echo of his voice.  “And… if that includes more kids… I’ll give you that, too.”

Each word had attached to it a different emotion and those emotions multiplied like a field of rabbits, kicking her in the chest with their thumping feet.  Some of those feet were a pleasant tickling of emotion, bringing with them an amazing sense of being offered everything she’d ever wanted – on a silver platter, in fact.  Other rabbit feet were viciously negative and kicked the hell out of her euphoria.

Aren’t rabbit feet supposed to be lucky? Shouldn’t I feel lucky?

She should be over-the-moon thrilled, because in the span of 30 seconds, Jon had offered her the whole ball of wax.  The whole enchilada.  Not just a piece of the pie, but the whole blessed bakery.  Marriage, children, happily ever after…  It was a girl’s – her – dream come true. 

Theoretically, perhaps, but Rachel couldn’t get past the fact that, a few months ago these things, this particular ball of wax held as much appeal to Jon as ear wax.   Marriage and children, in fact, had been a pretty big part of the reason they’d split up.  Back then, he’d been completely adamant – nasty – in his desire not to have more children.  Every time the subject had come up…  Well, the things he said had been beyond ugly.   

“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.”

“Well maybe I don’t wanna have kids with a woman who can’t face up to real life so she runs away from me every chance she gets.  Just maybe I want the mother of my children to stay and fight instead of running away all the time!  Didja ever think of that??!!”

Rachel’s chest went tight.  She drew her shoulders up defensively at the recollection, the memory of those conversations was just as painful tonight as it had been then.  He had apologized, but the words couldn’t be unspoken once they’d been hurled. 

Children had always been a taboo topic with Jon.  It had sent him into outer space when he found out she hadn’t been taking birth control, because he didn’t want any more kids.  Period.  They’d never discussed it, so Rachel had felt there was no decision to be made.  She loved Jon, Jon didn’t want kids, and that was that.  He had dictated their course and, until that moment, she didn’t realize how resentful she’d been of those dictatorial tendencies.

And now…  Now he was ready to get married at the drop of a hat?  And have kids on top of it all?  Rachel just couldn’t trust it. 

Not that she didn’t trust him.  She did.  And she’d made her peace with those arguments long ago. 

All that was in the past, and that’s where it would stay, but whatever was going on with this new Jon…  It was absolutely too terrifying to put all her faith in.  It was just too much to hope for that she could really have it all back.  A husband, children… A real home and family again. 

Damn him.  Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn him!

He hadn’t wanted more kids.  Fine.  She’d accepted that.  They couldn’t seem to work out their problem?  Fine.  She’d hated it with every fiber of her being, but she had re-set her sails to a life without him.  She was balanced.  She was steady on her feet. 

Then he comes back into my life like a hurricane – an unstoppable force of nature – giving me everything I’d reconciled myself to not having.   He’s knocked me flat on my ass and the ceiling is spinning above me.  SONOFABITCH!

“Rach?”  Jon waved his hand in front of her eyes, as if to snap her out of her trance.  “Where’d you go, baby?”

She blinked quickly, bringing his face into focus, but she didn’t immediately speak.  In the past, Rachel would have skirted the issue, or given in to the simmering, festering pot of resentment.  It would be easy to slide right back into that groove, but she was all too aware it had been part of their problem.  She wasn’t always able to apply the communication skills she had in the boardroom to real life.  Facts and figures were much easier to relay than intangible thoughts and emotions.

Figure it out, Rachel.  He’s trying to do his part to make this work.  If things are going to be different this time around, you’ve got to do yours, too.

“I… I went to the past, I guess.  And I’m trying to figure out how to talk to you about all the things I’m feeling without fighting.”  Frustration had tears welling as she struggled with the right words and – on the opposite end of the spectrum – she was overwhelmed with a whole new appreciation for the efforts he’d made and was making.  This changing thing wasn’t easy.  “Jon, you just offered me what I would’ve considered the world on a silver platter and I’m being… bipolar!”

“Tears AND bipolar, huh?  That’s a new one for you.”    Looking amused, he cupped his hands on her shoulders and squeezed.  “All ya gotta do is tell me what you want, baby, and I’ll make it happen.”

Gee, doesn’t that sound simple? 

Frustration built anew and was accompanied by confusion that momentarily drained Rachel.  “I don’t know what I want,” she whispered.    

“Meaning… you don’t know if you want all this?  Or you don’t know if you want it all with me?” he asked cautiously, while shifting beneath her.    

“I know I want you,” she murmured.  Her eyes dropped to his forearm and she lightly scraped her fingernails through the light hair.  “But… I’m not sure I want marriage – or kids – anymore.  I know that makes me look like an indecisive nutcase, but things feel so different now.”

“Different between us?”

“I don’t know.  I guess.  I feel like I’m in whirlwind of emotions going at warp speed since you came back.  Before, you didn’t want anything to do with wedding rings or babies, and now I’m the one who can’t pull the trigger.  I think…. I think I’m afraid of the reasons for your sudden willingness to do all this.” 

Rachel fought the urge to sob like a child in the face of all she was feeling.  The emotions were so overpowering that she had to fight the ingrained instinct that she’d been trying so hard to quell these last few months.  It took everything she had not to just shut herself down and run away.  Emotionally, mentally and physical she wanted nothing more than to flee this difficult situation – this difficult conversation.

But you’re not going to.  Cry all the way through if you have to, but you’re going to tell him what you’re feeling. 

During their entire relationship, Jon had encouraged her to jump off the proverbial ledge.  He’d sworn he’d be there to catch her if she’d just trust him, but she’d never taken the leap.

Now she would find out what they were both made of.  The time had come to jump.    

Her eyes finally lifted to meet his as she took flight and prayed he was as good as his word.  “I’m afraid that you’re just doing this for me.  That, if you had only yourself to please, just having me in your life would be enough.  If you don’t need me to be your wife – deep down need like you need your next breath – then I don’t want you to be my husband.”

There.  She did it.  She told him exactly what she was feeling without the world around them exploding into World War 3.

“Rach…”  Jon touched her face and she found herself drowning in the affection that shone from his eyes.  He was going to catch her.  He wasn’t going to let her guts splatter all over the pavement.  “Thank you for trusting me enough to say that.  There was a time when you would’ve just picked a fight or fucked my brains out until I forgot what we were talking about.” 

“I’m trying to make this work.”

“And so am I.  You left because I wasn’t willing to offer you the kind of love and security that you’d been missing.  Well, I’m willing now.  I tried living without you and I hated it.  I was the most miserable motherfucker you’ll ever meet and – bottom line – I won’t lose you again.”  He bent to touch his lips to hers.  “I’m offering, Rachel.  All you have to do is accept.”

It was tempting.  Oh so tempting, but his answer still didn’t give her the warm fuzzy feelings that would make it alright. 

She smiled sadly and shook her head.  “I can’t explain it.  It feels… rushed.  I don’t know… maybe it’s being here – I hate it here.  Everything feels phony.  Even the damned Eiffel Tower is phony.  I keep expecting it to deflate like a cheap blow-up doll.”

He snorted at her comment and the echo of that dorky snort made Rachel laugh.  And just like that, the heaviness was carried away on their laughter. 

“Cheap porn shop Eiffel Tower?” he inquired with a wide grin.

“You’d know better than I would!  I don’t hang out in tacky porn shops.”

“Neither do I!   I hang out in the classy porn shops.”

“Oh?”  She quirked an eyebrow, grateful beyond grateful to banter with him instead of argue.  “I had no idea such an animal existed.  You’ll have to take me sometime.”

“As long as you’re with me, I don’t need nothin’ they got.  And you sure as fuck don’t need any gadgetry when I’m around.” 

“Mm.  If you’re operating it, I might be convinced….”

Jon’s laugh was husky, deep back in his throat, inviting Rachel to join him.  Her chuckle breathed across his mouth and she could smell the intoxicating wine on his breath.  The laughter left his eyes to be replaced by pure unadulterated lust and, before she could do more than part her lips, they were kissing like two love-sick teenagers.   His hands wound into her hair, his tongue twisted around hers and, together, they set the couch afire with the incendiary flames that had always accompanied the connection of their bodies.    

Rachel’s bare leg draped across his and she crawled onto his lap, straddling his legs and shivering at the way the denim rasped against the flesh of her inner thighs. Her hands crept inside the two open top-buttons of his shirt, sighing with appreciation when she found the downy mat of fur that coated his chest.  With a sultry wink, she worked the remainder of the buttons free and pushed the dark fabric to the sides, exposing what she considered her own personal fuzzy playground.  

His chest hair makes me just a little bit crazy…

While she fumbled with the button of her own satin pajama top, eager to press her bare chest into his, Jon wasn’t wasting any time himself.  He slipped his hands under her butt cheeks, the wide palms and fingers cupping her flesh and setting her a tingle.  When she leaned into his chest and he gave an easy squeeze, she whimpered with pleasure.    

“Okay…”  he breathed into her hair.  “So you don’t like the setting here and you feel a little rushed.”  His fingers were now kneading the rounded globes of her bottom.  “I’ll dial back until I come up with something that knocks your socks off.  How’s that?”

This again?  Wasn’t this water under the bridge, yet?  He seriously expected Rachel to think while she was draped over him like a boneless cat?  His breath, his touch, and his heat were removing any chance of clear thought. 

“If it means we can have sex, sure.  Knock yourself out.”

The rumble of his chuckling chest beneath her caused shivers.  “Rachel…”

“Mmm…”  She rolled her hips so that the fly on his pants hit just the right spot.  “This isn’t me avoiding a conversation, honey.  This is me being distracted by your yummy factor.  A girl can only stand so much Jon Bon Jovi-ness.”

“Yeah, but you’re not a girl.  You’re alllll woman.”

She swiped her tongue across his neck, sorely tempted to suck the musky spot where she loved to bury her nose. “Can you go on stage with a hickey?  Or is that considered passé?”

Jon’s thumb crept across the top of her leg and into the valley between her legs.  He drove her crazy, alternating between scraping her clit with his thumb nail and dipping into the moist pool there. 

“What?  You can’t think of anything else to suck hard enough to leave a mark?”

Rachel scooted down his lap, kissing his chest and stomach all the way down until her bare feet touched the carpet.  She slowly sank to her knees in front of him with a wicked grin as she tugged to free his belt.   “So we’re finished talking?” 

Jon dropped his head to the back of the sofa with a quiet grunt and raked his hands into her hair.  “I proposed for the second time and you shot me down again.  What’s left to say?  Your mouth can be put to better use.”

His pants were stripped away and tossed, leaving him wide open to Rachel’s every oral whim.  She could taunt, please or satisfy him with the lightest kiss, a delicate nibble or a full-on swipe of her tongue.     

“Are you sure?” she teased as his fingers tightened against her scalp in the move of a man about to lose his manners. “Because, if not, just remember it was YOU who wanted to be seduced instead of talking.”

“Whatthefuckever.  Just get to work – and don’t forget that twisty thing you do with your tongue while you’re down there.”

She didn’t forget that little twisty thing, or any of the other little tricks Jon liked with the soft, underside of her tongue.   He was treated to the blowjob of all blowjobs.  Rachel’s tongue, hands and lips all worked their best choreography over him in a way that drove him stark, raving mad.  He was getting antsy for more and shifted, rolling his hips and fisting her hair tight enough to pull.  Rachel couldn’t resist scraping her teeth over the plump, throbbing head as she sucked with all her might.

“Ah! Fuck, Rach!  Easy does it!  Watch the teeth!” 

Releasing him with a loud ‘pop’, she soothed the scrape with a final swipe of her tongue before climbing back onto his lap.  She locked into his eyes with a satisfied smirk as she positioned herself appropriately and enjoyed the hard, slow slide of him pressing inside her. 

“Stop being a baby.  You said you wanted me to suck something besides your neck, so I did.  Now you’ll have a wicked hickey right on the head of your dick.”

“Christ almighty,” he grunted, rocking against her.  “When did you learn the fine art of sex talk?  You…  Unnh…  never did that before.”

Rachel lifted herself off of him briefly before dropping herself back down with a satisfying slap of flesh.  Digging her nipples into the forest of chest hair, she clenched her inner muscles until he growled and then ground herself into him. 

“Don’t need to talk. It’s the one time we’re always in sync.” 

Jon roughly grabbed both sides of her head again, burying his fingers into her hair and forcing his tongue inside her mouth for a soul-sucking kiss.  “I love a woman who lets her body do the talkin’.”

And that was all the talking they needed.  She might not be sure about all of ‘new Jon’s’ motives, but the way his face and body relaxed and tensed at the same time, the way he called out her name when he climaxed, the way he held her in the aftermath….

Rachel was certain no other woman had ever made Jon feel the way she did.

Ch 27 ~ Whatever It Takes

Rolling his neck from side to side, Jon crammed his keycard into the slot with a weary sigh.   Ever since he kissed Rachel goodbye earlier that day, he’d done nothing but look forward to arriving in Las Vegas. 

Not technically true, of course, he silently amended as he shouldered himself and his leather duffel through the door.  He’d done other stuff.  There was that whole work thing and the show in Los Angeles.  He’d left his guts on the stage just like he always did, but when he wasn’t working the crowd or digging down to his liver for those high notes in Prayer...  His mind had always drifted back to Rachel. 

It had been a damn good feeling to know that when he dragged his weary ass into another luxury hotel suite, that she’d be there.  So good, in fact, that he’d declined the band’s offer for a drink at the hotel bar without a second thought. 

Rachel was waiting for him.

The duffel hit the floor of the marble foyer with a nearly soundless ‘plop’ and he looked from left to right, trying to decide which master suite she would have chosen for them.  Jon’s gut guided him to the left and, when he discovered the soft glow of lamplight behind the bedroom door, he discovered that his instincts were still good.

With the duvet thrown back, she was a splash of color lying on the pristine white sheets.  She wore the same red, satin pajama top she’d been wearing the night he’d practically broken down her door, insisting they had unfinished business. 

On that night, she’d come down the stairs, too stunned to speak, but the image of her perky little nipples protruding through the fabric had made a lasting impression.  They’d taunted him and beckoned to him so that he’d barely been able to keep his hands off her from the minute he’d walked in the door.  It had been months since he’d seen her and there had been something about the sight of those smooth, bare legs as she stood on the staircase…  Combined with the open-invitation that her nipples were issuing, it had been like instant helium to his dick.  It had inflated faster than the Macy’s balloon on Thanksgiving Day.   

He was a guy, after all. 

On that night, though, he hadn’t had the right to touch her at will.  Tonight was different.

She was his. 

Again. 

And she was sound asleep.

Ah well.  At least I can cop a feel before I pass out. 

But Jon wasn’t in any hurry to crawl in bed and disturb her.  He merely leaned against the doorframe and just watched her sleep, grateful to know that if he chose to wake her, she would respond to his touch and whisper all those little words he loved to hear.  

That knowledge and her mere presence was enough to fill Jon with a serenity that had been all too scarce in recent years on the road.   Because of that – because of her – on this night, his post-show bottle of wine didn’t seem so pathetically lonely.  No, tonight the wine was his pleasant company while he stretched out on the sofa and unwound enough to crawl into bed with Rachel.  Then he would pull her delightful little body close against his and fall into the same blissful slumber she was now enjoying. 

Life was good again.

“Hey.”  Rachel’s hushed, sultry voice came from the hallway, and when Jon looked up, he saw the same bare legs he’d been daydreaming about.   “It’s not very rock star-ish to be drinking by yourself.” 

She tucked her legs under her knees when she sat down next to him, fingers rubbing the top of his head.  Jon threw his arm across her legs and puckered his lips for the kiss he knew she’d give him, talking against her lips.  “I dunno.  I’m kicked back in a swanky Las Vegas hotel suite with a lot of expensive wine and a hot, half-dressed blonde.  Sounds pretty rock star to me.”

“Geez,” she moaned, rolling her eyes.  “No wonder you’re known for writing nothing but hopeful, optimistic songs.  You can put a positive spin on anything.”

Jon took the liberty of sliding his hand higher up her thigh, fingertips creeping under the pajama top.  Before he ever came in contact with the one little bit of fuzz that was left after her bikini waxes, he had known she wouldn’t have anything on under that silk top. 

And I fuckin’ love knowing it.

He wasn’t even particularly horny.  He just liked knowing that anything she had, he was entitled to touch.  No matter how intimate it was. 

In fact, for good measure, he let his middle finger slip past the patch of fuzz until it found the bump of her clit.  He didn’t play, he didn’t tease or entice.  Jon just casually stroked it and retreated to the patch of fuzz and then the crease of her leg.

All mine.

“I got news for ya, baby.  It ain’t hard to be optimistic when I’ve got you sprawled out in my bed, waiting for me.”

She giggled softly and pressed a kiss to his ear.  “I can see how you get all those groupies out of their panties, you smooth talker.” 

“No smooth talk, baby.  Just truth.”  He palmed her thigh and squeezed before letting his fingers loose to roam in Fuzz Land again.  “I never had a hotel bed look so good.”

“Is that bed okay?  I wasn’t really sure which one to crawl into.  There’s two bedrooms, plus a private massage room, a conference room and gym.   Why do you need this much space?”

“I wanted you to have a view of The Strip from the bathtub.” Jon shrugged. “I thought you’d enjoy that.”

“I did!  It’s gorgeous and amazing to watch the fountains while covered in bubbles, but there must be 5,000 square feet in this place.”

“Think it’s closer to six, but you’re the real estate expert,” he deferred.

“Six thousand square feet for one guy? Maybe there’s a little more rock star in you than I thought,” she teased, pushing her hand under his t-shirt and rubbing her palm across his stomach.  He loved it when she touched him with the same privilege he felt with her.

“Actually, I almost forgot about the fountains.  The motivating factor was that I thought you’d like the view of the Eiffel Tower from here.  You said you hadn’t been to Paris, and I figure this suite cost me a helluva lot less than a trip to the real Paris.  I killed two birds with one hotel booking.”

“I should have known,” she sighed, the hand on his stomach stilling while she rubbed his scalp with the other.  “Always the practical businessman.”

“It’s what you love best about me.  Greed turns you on.”

“Mm.  Maybe – but just a little,” she snickered and smoothed over the deep grooves that he knew lived in his forehead at this time of night.  “You look tired, baby.  Rough night?”

“No more than any other.  LA is Richie’s hometown and he gets a little deep into the bottle sometimes when he gets wound up.   If that happens before a show – and it did tonight – it makes me a little tense performance-wise.  I have to be a hundred and ten percent on instead of just a hundred and nine.”

“Ah,” she acknowledged with a nod as he skated through the crease of her thigh.  “But I thought you didn’t drink until after a show.”

“I don’t.  None of us do, as a general rule.  Sometimes Richie indulges a little if people are around beforehand and they’re havin’ a good time.  Keeping him corralled has been a full time job lately,” he confessed on a sigh. 

“Well you’re off work now, so shouldn’t you do something kinda rock star-ish?  It is Vegas, after all.”

Jon leaned up for a kiss and rolled her bottom lip between his, never fully letting go.  His fingers still danced between her legs, now gliding along the edges of her lips.  “I guess I could slip off and marry you while I’m here.  I still don’t have a ring, but I could probably fashion one from the wire around the champagne cork in the ice bucket over there.”

“Oh, that’s so much better than the ring-less proposal from last night!” she teased, squirming under his touch.  “Let’s do the tacky Vegas wedding in front of the fake Eiffel Tower with a phony ring.  Right now!”

“I’m serious, Rach.  What difference does it make where we do it?  We could be married within the hour.  ”

Rachel leaned back just out of range of his lips and frowned.  The teasing glint that had been dancing in her eyes disappeared entirely under a confused brow and she swatted at the hand that had just re-located her clit.  There was only the slightest hitch in her breath before she responded.

“Did I miss something?  What makes you think we’re doing it at all, let alone in this wretched city where you’ve already gotten married once before?” 

Mellowed by the wine and warmed by the simple presence of this woman, Jon was relaxed.  She might still be like a skittish cat on the whole idea of marriage, but he wasn’t worried.  It didn’t threaten his masculinity or stir up the least bit of insecurity. 

It didn’t bother him at all.  At the moment, he was rather enjoying the mounting slickness of her flesh under his fingertips. 

On the subject of marriage, she’d come around.

And come around me before that.

“You don’t like Vegas, I take it?  Fine.  Pick somewhere else.” 

“Jon…”  Her fingers enclosed his wrist in an effort to stop his fingers from doing the walking.  “You can talk to me or you can sexually taunt me, but I can’t concentrate on both.  So YOU pick which you’d rather spend your energy on – talk or turning me on.”

Smirking, Jon immediately pulled his hand from under her pajama top and leaned across the sofa table to grab a glass for her.  He filled both hers and his with the entire contents of a second bottle of wine. 

“I may have made the mistake in the past of taking advantage of you while you were turned on.  I won’t do that this time.  So I pick straight talk for now.  I’m reserving turned on for later.”

Rachel accepted the wineglass with a little frown, pressing her body closer to his.  Jon called up his entire arsenal of self-restraint to suppress the jolt of arousal that rocketed through him when she scraped her teeth across the edge of his earlobe. 

“But we will do turned on, right?” she inquired on a seductive purr.

Jon twisted his head away from the tickle with a shit-eating grin.  “I don’t know about doing turned on, but I sure as hell plan on doing you.  Repeatedly.”  He puckered his lips, inviting a kiss that she willingly granted, along with a soft laugh. 

“You seem to be a lot more talkative than I remember.  Not that I’m complaining, but sex used to be our thing.  All the time.”

He touched her cheek with just the barest edge of his thumb and hoped that she could see the sincerity in his expression.  “This is beyond sex, Rach.  Sex between us is – always will be – off the charts, but you were right about marriage.  You said it’s a contract to keep people from throwing their hands up and walking away when things got tough, and I think it’s a good thing for us.”

“Why?  Because you think I’m going to throw my hands up and walk away when things get tough?”  She reached up to grab his hand, lacing his fingers with hers and shaking her head.   “I don’t run anymore, Jon.” 

Jon had to watch his step or she was going to go all defensive on him, so he chose his next words carefully.  “I didn’t mean to imply you would.  I was just saying that I think your view on marriage is a good one.”

“You didn’t always.  You said it was just a piece of paper.”  She tipped her head to the side and crinkled her forehead.  “I still don’t understand what’s made you go pro-marriage all of a sudden.”

Clearly, he hadn’t convinced Rachel of his sincerity.  She still didn’t believe that he was willing to do whatever it took – no matter what it was – to make her happy.  Anything that would keep her by his side was fair game. 

“Changed my mind,” he said simply, snugging her hand more tightly into his.  She had to get this.  How much he meant this.  He’d repeat it over and over a thousand times until she did.  “I told you, Rach, whatever it is you need – that’s what I’m willing to give you.  Gladly.  Without hesitation or reservation.”

She was already shaking her head.  Jon brought his other hand up so that he could touch his fingers to her lips and prevent her from speaking. 

“And… if that includes more kids… I’ll give you that, too.”