Chapter 77 ~ Textual Relations

The month of August passed in such a flurry of sand, sun and social obligations that Rachel had been astounded when she found it Labor Day and she was on a plane bound for California, and away from Jon.  Meetings in that week had demanded her presenc on the West Coast, while Jon’s non-music obligations, along with the last minute details Bon Jovi’s Greatest Hits album release, had kept him on the East Coast.

Which meant now, three weeks later, Rachel was suffering a carpal tunnel flare-up from servicing herself during phone sex, when she should’ve been on tour with him in…  Well, she wasn’t quite sure where he was at the moment, but she definitely knew that it hadn’t been her bed.  If it had, she would’ve been sleeping better – in post-orgasmic bliss.

Despite her lack of quality sleep, bat-shit-crazy clients who were never satisfied, and her aching wrist, Rachel found herself spending this Sunday afternoon poolside, feeling unusually relaxed.  The peace and quiet of her yard, where the California sun was still as blazing in late September as it had been in July, allowed her knotted muscles to ease into a rubbery state as she spent some time putting a little extra glow in her fading tan.  Of course, the twenty laps she done in the pool hadn’t hurt, either. 

That feeling of physical exhaustion was a good one, but it wasn’t doing much to ease her mental and emotional restlessness.   

Used to being on her own, and even being independent when she wasn’t, Rachel was more surprised than anyone could be that her thoughts continually turned to Jon.  She wanted to read him a blurb from the morning paper.  She wanted him to make her the coffee that she couldn’t ever quite get right.  She wanted to fall asleep next to him after mind blowing sex and wake up to the same thing. 

In plain, simple English, Rachel missed him.  Big time. 

Her physical state of relaxation gave way to her mind’s restlessness and she swung her legs over the edge of the chaise until her feet touched warm concrete, thinking that maybe the mundane act of rinsing the chlorine from her swimsuit would ease the ache her heart and body felt.  Or at least provide a distraction.

But she was wrong.  Even standing over the laundry room sink, she couldn’t escape the ‘ghost’ of Jon. 

If he was here, he’d probably be screwing my brains out on the washing machine.  And then he’d turn on the spin cycle. 

The thought brought a smile to her face at the same time it pierced her heart. 

My job is becoming a pain in the ass.

For the first time, Rachel wondered if she truly needed the sense of independence and fulfillment that she’d always vehemently sworn that her career provided.  If it wasn’t for her job, she would be straddling her man in some random hotel and being fulfilled in a whole other way – a way that she missed like she’d never missed her work. 

You are not quitting your job, she ordered herself as she pulled a Lean Cuisine dinner from the microwave and took it to the family room, sitting in Jon’s favorite chair.  Damn if his very distinctive and sexy scent didn’t puff up around her when she sank into the cushions, making her tingle with anticipation.

 You’re just horny.

It was funny how your body got used to another body.  Where she once, not so long ago, had gone to sleep by herself without a second thought, now Rachel would lie in the darkness, looking at the ceiling while she ached. 

Yes, ached.

Like a damned Harlequin romance novel heroine, Rachel actually ached to feel Jon’s skin against hers, to the point where the softness of the sheets became uncomfortable.   She physically craved those callused fingertips skimming over her ribcage, and his breath warming her cheek as he snored.

Ugh!  I’m pathetic!

Her shower and lotion didn’t help matters, because she would never again be able to put moisturizer on her body without thinking of Jon – and sex. 

I have got to get my mind on something else!

Hoping to ease the restlessness she was feeling, Rachel locked up the house and plopped into her big (lonely) king-sized bed to read.   People Magazine was always a good distraction – or it had been once upon a time.  Until she’d caught herself reading about celebrities she’d actually met.   Now it was sometimes felt a little creepy and intrusive.  Better than the tabloids, but still…

Demi Moore’s crumbling marriage was the cover story in this issue.  She’d never met Demi Moore, and Jon didn’t know her well as far as Rachel was aware, but her crumbling marriage just didn’t interest Rachel in the least.  She tossed it to the nightstand in frustration. 

There was nothing that was going to come close to easing that restlessness, other than Jon himself.  Granted, a text message wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do until she could find out whether he was awake somewhere in the world and up for a little visit. 

And with any luck, he’ll talk dirty to me.

[7:32 PM]RACHEL:  Whatcha doin?

She impatiently tapped the side of the phone with her fingernail, willing him to hurry up and answer.  When no response came after ten minutes, the only logical assumption to be made was that the man was sound asleep. 

Rachel screwed up her face in deliberation. 

She could call always call him, she reasoned.  Agreeing that, if one of them really needed to talk at any time of day or night, they both had their phones set to always ring through for one another.  It didn’t matter if he had the rest of the world silenced, his phone would ring if she called, but her sexual agitation wasn’t exactly earth shattering – for him, anyway.  If he’d actually managed to get to sleep, Rachel wouldn’t wake him. 

With a sigh that was deeper than the others she’d been emitting, she resigned herself to channel surfing the bedroom TV until she could find sleep for herself.  She was just contemplating buying a new set of luggage from QVC when a text message chime interrupted her. 

“Oooh!”  She snatched up the phone and swiped across the screen with a sense of excitement and anticipation. 

[8:09 PM]JOHN BONGIOVI:  workin

Working?  At this hour? 

Of course she really had no idea what ‘this hour’ was where he currently stood.

[8:10 PM]RACHEL: Are you in the middle of a show?

[8:10 PM]JOHN BONGIOVI:  ya  u ok?

Dammit!  So much for dirty talking.

He couldn’t very well get her off in the middle of a show.  Could he? 

It wouldn’t hurt to throw that out there, just in case.

[8:11 PM]RACHEL:  I’m horny! 

When his response time hit forty-eleven seconds, Rachel flipped from the messaging app to her email.  She may as find out where he was at, so she could figure out how much longer he wasn’t going to be any help to her sexual appetite. 

Her heart jumped when she saw “San Jose”, but quickly plummeted back to its usual spot when realizing it was followed up by “Costa Rica” instead of “California”. 

“That would’ve been entirely too convenient,” she muttered to herself. 

A quick Google search had his venue pegged in a time zone that was only an hour ahead of her.  That meant he’d be on stage quite a while yet, and likely not interested in indulging her newfound fetish for phone sex. 

Crap.

Nonetheless, he did continue to text her between songs, which was a miracle in and of itself.  He normally stayed very focused and didn’t like distractions during his shows, so it made her feel just a little bit smug that he was voluntarily allowing her to be a distraction. 

[8:24PM]JOHN BONGIOVI:  u & every woman here

She grinned at the phone.  They may be horny, too, but he kept coming back to her.

{8:25PM}RACHEL:  Oh yeah?  Any favorites in the front row?

This time, as she waited, she decided to search for a live stream of the show.  Surely some techno-geek would be working illegal magic with their cell phone, right?  She’d yet to be at a show where there weren’t thousands of phones up in the air for the majority of the night.  Who knew what they were doing?

She sighed.  Again. 

If a stream of the show was out there in cyberspace, Rachel wasn’t geek-savvy enough to find it.  She was just about to go take another shower and make use of the hand-held showerhead when her phone finally chimed.

[8:40PM]JOHN BONGIOVI: brunette in a see thru mini

See-through mini?  That actually might be useful.  Maybe if she could get his mind on sex, he’d be more likely to help her ease the pain of Jon-induced nymphomania. 

[8:40PM]RACHEL: Nice boobs?

[8:41PM]JOHN BONGIOVI: maybe better than urs

For the first time today, Rachel found herself actually laughing.  Out loud. 

[8:41PM]RACHEL: Oh come ON!  Nobody that’s going to PAY to see your show has better boobs than me.

Her heart sang a happy little diddy.

Because for a millisecond it didn’t feel as if they were a gazillion miles apart.  He wasn’t on a stage in another country earning his keep by soaking women’s panties with a single glance while she was alone with her own wet panties.  However briefly, in this comfortably bantering moment, they were connected.

Funny.  It only makes me miss him more. 

[9:24PM] JOHN BONGIOVI: ha!  cocky much?

[9:25PM]RACHEL: It’s why you like me.

[9:25PM]JOHN BONGIOVI: like u better on ur knees

Rachel smirked. And why wouldn’t he?  She was good at that, but it wasn’t the only thing she was good at.

[9:25 PM]RACHEL: I’d fuck you senseless tonight, that’s for sure! 

And…. silence. 

This damn show is interfering with my powers of seduction!

[10:11 PM]JOHN BONGIOVI:  could a guy finish his show without all this sexual harassment?

Rachel giggled.  Sometimes the responses were worth the wait.

[10:11 PM]RACHEL:  You love it and you know it!

[10:11 PM]JOHN BONGIOVI: more than my next bottle of wine.  Encore.  Call u later.

Well, dammit.  Just when it was starting to get fun.

Nonetheless, Rachel couldn’t resist sending one last text – and accompanying it with a provocative selfie. 

Okay, maybe provocative was too tame a word.  Pornographic.  That might be more appropriate.  But not hard core porn. 

[10:13PM]RACHEL:  Looking forward to it, baby.

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

“You sadistic little minx,” Jon scolded the instant Rachel answered her phone.  “You can’t send me naked pictures of yourself when I haven’t had sex in weeks!  Jesus, c’mon!”

“I’ve gone without sex for the same amount of time,” she volleyed right back at him, with a laugh that made him smile.  He actually loved to hear her laugh, even when she was being a cock tease. “So you’re not the only one deprived around here, mister!” 

That sure as hell wasn’t his fault, but he didn’t think that pointing out would get him anywhere he wanted to be, so he went with something a little less acidic.  “Yeah, well…neither one of us would be in this mess if you didn’t have to be in meetings all day Tuesday.  You’d be here with me and I’d let you follow through on that promise to fuck me senseless.”

“Oh! Get this…”  She let out an unladylike snort that belied her usual behavior.  “James cancelled Tuesday’s meeting.  So, as it turns out, I actually could have gone with you this week.”

No good, cock suckin’, pink sweater wearin’, troublemakin’, gonorrhea-ridden sonofabitch.

“Just for one fuckin’ day, I’d like to go without hearing that cocksucker’s name,” Jon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Knowing what he thinks of me, the sumbitch probably never had meetings scheduled in the first place.”

“Have you always had such a suspicious nature, or is this new since you met me?”

“Since I met James, actually, and I don’t wanna talk about that piece of fuck anymore.”  He pushed a tired hand through his hair and leaned back against the headboard of his hotel bed, scratching his bare chest.  “So if you don’t have meetings that require your presence, why isn’t your sexy little ass on a plane headed for Costa Rica?”

“I… Well…” Jon smiled at her hesitation.  Evidently, she hadn’t thought to ask herself that question.  “Well, I honestly don’t know why I’m not.”

His smile turned to a wide grin.  He loved it when he was right and she didn’t even want to argue with him about it. 

Fucking loved it!

“Good answer,” he approved.  “Now pack your goddamn bag, because I’m sending a plane.”

Her giggle made him want to do dirty things to her.  Very dirty things.

“And don’t wear panties,” he ordered gruffly.  “I’m gonna want breakfast as soon as you get here.”