16 - Strangers in the Night

Jon had slipped away to the bathroom, leaving Petey’s skin cooling atop the down comforter and a lazy smile on her face.

Who knew sex could be so good?

“I’ll assume that smirk means you’ve been satisfied?”  The mattress bounced as he dropped himself onto the bed.  Lying on his side, comfortably naked and head propped up on one hand, his eyes asked the question again.

She rolled her head on the pillow and allowed the dimples to appear for a split second.  “Yeah.  Can you say the same?”

“Oh, yes ma’am, I certainly can.”  His right hand drifted through her hair, the strands slipping easily between his fingers.  “I like it this way, but it’s too… regimented.  The waves suit you better. ”

She rolled her head back to its original position and stared at the ceiling, not knowing what to say.

“Are you and your sister a lot alike?”

“Uh.  No.  Not even close.  And it’s actually step-sister.”

He tickled her chin with the blunt ends.  “You said you were at the airport earlier.  Where is your family at?”

“Pennsylvania.  Do you have a shirt I can borrow?  My bag’s downstairs and I think those…”  She gestured to the small pile of velvet in front of the window. “… have served their purpose.”

“Yeah, they did,” he agreed cheekily, accepting her change of topic easily enough.  Releasing his grip on her hair, Jon brought one blunt-tipped finger to waggle in front of her nose.  “And while we’re on the subject... you wear clothes like that, yet you haven’t had sex in… a while?  Are you hanging out with drag queens in gay biker bars?”

“No.”  She snickered at the irony of his words, considering her recent thoughts about the neighbor across the hall.   “I’ve only worn it once before, with leggings.”

“Still…” He lifted his eyebrows in a leer as his eyes molested her naked form from head to toe.

“Exactly why I want a shirt,” was her dry response.  “Please.”

Grumbling good-naturedly about being eco-friendly and needlessly dirtying clothes, Jon nonetheless went to grab a t-shirt from the closet.  Tossing the soft, black cotton at her, he then bent to slip the discarded track pants over his hips.  “I trust the color meets with your approval.”

“Yes, smartass, it does.  Thank you.”

Collapsing back against the headboard, he folded both hands on his chest and loftily looked down his nose at her.  “Clothing causes half of our problems.  I hope you realize that.”

Pulling her hair free of the collar, she shook her head and the shirt settled down over her hips.  Petey felt less exposed now.   “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You hide behind clothes,” he said matter-of-factly.  “It keeps people on a superficial level, so you don’t have to let anybody in.”

“I happen to like the way I dress, Dr. Freud, and dissing it isn’t the best way to get laid again.”

“Oh, I’ll get laid again,” was his cocky reply as he reached for her bare thighs and wormed his fingers between them.  The pads of his fingers scraped provocatively against the tender skin as they crept stealthily toward her center.  “I’m going to make you scream with my tongue next time, remember?”

She shoved his hand away without ceremony.  “No.  You’re not.” 

He wasn’t deterred.  Jon merely chose a different tactic.  “I’m bigger than you.”

“I’m meaner than you.”

“Doubtful.  You haven’t worked with me yet.”

She sighed with resignation, thinking that he argued like a politician – in one big circle.  It was time to bisect the circle.  “Those were my two rules going into this.  No kissing and no oral sex.”

“Both of which are asinine.  Have you seen my tongue?”  He poked it out for her perusal. 

It was wide, and even though he was purposefully sticking it out, it wasn’t pointed on the end, but rounded.  It looked soft, thick and perfectly suited to what he wanted to use it for. 

Damn man.

“It’s just a tongue,” she tossed off with casual disinterest.

“That’s what you say now, but when I start licking you like a lollipop…  You’ll be singing a different tune, baby.”

Amid mounted frustration, she snuck her hand over to his side of the bed and roughly tweaked his left nipple.  “Arrogant much?”

“Ow!” Jerking back out of her reach, Jon rubbed at the wounded area with a fierce scowl.  “That hurt.”

“You were speaking in God-like tones.  I was only reinforcing your mere mortal status. ”

Half expecting the insult to set off a heated argument, Petey was dumbfounded by the unrestrained laughter that flowed from him.   It was the first time she’d heard Jon’s no-holds-barred-head-thrown-back belly laugh and it made her grin.  He laughed like a nerd.

“Why do you think I keep inviting you over?  You keep me humble.  But…”  He dragged a thumb indolently along the fine skin of her inner arm, from elbow to wrist.  “Eventually I’m going to wear you down…”  A bemused smirk pulled at his lips.  “…on my going down on you.”

“Let it gooo, Jon,” she pleaded with a groan.  

Was there any winning with this man?  Probably not, but no matter how heavily he leaned on her, she wasn’t budging.  The sex between them was too good to ruin for… that.  Embarrassing images blazed to life of the single time she’d been curious enough to ask her partner for oral sex.  No way in hell was she going through that again.  It was too intimate.

“There’s no deep-seated secret and I’m not playing hard to get.  I just don’t like it.  You don’t seem like the kind of guy to force something your partner doesn’t like.”

“Sugar,” he asserted confidently.  “If you don’t like it, somebody’s been doing it wrong.  Trust me.”

Her high heels clattered when she released the velvet bows and allowed them to tumble to the floor.  Annoyance making her jawline hard, Petey swung her feet over the side of the bed.  “I’m going down to get my bag.”

“Hey.”  Jon shot past her to block to the doorway.  “Do you always get all pissy when someone offers to rock your world?”

An angry hand reached to tweak the opposite nipple from before, but he was expecting it this time.  A harsh grip held her hand in the air, mid-way between them.

“Ah, ah, ah…” he chastised with an admonishing frown.  “Don’t make me spank you.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Blue eyes lit with the challenge.  “Oh yes, baby.  I would.”

Petey bottled up the impulse to scream at him.  If every sexual encounter with him was going to end in a fight, she wasn’t sure it was worth it.

Who was she kidding?  Yes, it was.  And in a bizarre and illogical way, it made it that much more exciting.  He wasn’t intimidated by her, but he didn’t treat her like an impaired child either.  They butted heads, each giving as good as they got.  It was… exhilarating.

But it didn’t change her stance.

“I think your booty call is over,” she stated softly.  “I’d like to go home now.”

His hand gentled around her wrist.  A flip of her pliable hand had the palm under his lips and he placed a gentle kiss in the center of it, all the while locked on her eyes.

“Are you sure?” he murmured against the tender flesh.  “Because there are lots of other things I know how to do besides muff dive.”

She hardly recognized the abrupt giggle that spilled out of her mouth.  “Muff dive?”

“Yeah.”  Jon gave her a slow grin, captivated by the girlish sound.  “You never heard that?”

“I can’t say that I have.  I would’ve remembered it.”

“Mm.”  His lips moved from the palm to the inside of her wrist, licking the delicately pulsing veins there.  “Come back to bed Petey,” he mumbled between swipes of his tongue.  “Let me get my booty on.”

God, he could be so funny.  Who would have thought?

“My rules?”

“My lips will not touch any of your lips,” he promised, curling an arm around her waist to guide her back to his bed.  “But I will change your mind sooner or later.”

“No.  You won’t.”  Shiny black locks of hair swished across her shoulders when she shook her head with denial. 

“Yes.”  Jon stripped his shirt from her, latching his hot mouth onto one nipple.  The highly touted tongue got busy suckling and rolling and nibbling and licking until her breast wasn’t the only part of her reacting to him.  Petey rubbed her thighs together, feeling the mounting slickness between them.

Yet “Maybe,” was all she would concede as he toppled her to the mattress, managing to ‘rock her world’ and still follow the rules.

☠ ☢ ☠

It was two in the morning, according to Jon’s bedside clock, when Petey slipped from between the sheets, careful not to wake him.  He’d fallen asleep shortly after their last round of world rocking, but she purposefully stayed awake and on her side of the bed.  She kept her mind busy with recitation of the Monroe Doctrine and compiling her Christmas shopping list until it was time to trudge out into the night.

Not bothering to cover herself with Jon’s shirt, she scooped up her velvet pieces, quietly removing the choker from her neck to add to the pile.  Padding naked across the floor, Petey was about to step through the doorway when his voice reached her.

“Where you going?”

Sucking in a startled breath, she softly exclaimed, “Jesus, Jon!  You scared me.”

“You’re sneaking out in the middle of the night.”  The soft snick of the lamp had them both squinting in its light.  “But you’re still naked.  Got another date?” he asked, pushing himself up in the bed.

She rolled her eyes.  “We finished having sex, you fell asleep and I waited until it was time to go shopping before getting dressed.  There’s no sneaking out.  You knew I was going.”

“I didn’t know you were going without saying goodbye.”

“You were asleep,” she, ever rational, pointed out to the sexily rumpled pouter.  “But since you’re awake now…  Goodbye, Jon.”

“What the hell is worth going out at two o’clock in the morning for, anyway?” he groused, scratching at his chest.

She grinned at the predictable male confusion over the biggest retail shopping day of the year.  “The adventure.  Thousands of crazy New Yorkers scrambling for the best bargains of the Christmas season is a sight to behold.”  Hesitating, she considered the wisdom of what she was about to do, but ultimately threw caution to the wind.  “You should come with me.”

“No fucking thank you,” he snorted without a second thought.  “I’ll do my shopping online.”

Petey let the tiny sting of rejection roll off her back.  “Suit yourself.”  One foot was through the door when he called after her again.

“Hey.  Did you ever decide about your prize from the Ravens/Bengals game?”

Petey growled under her breath.  He had a thing about letting her out of his bedroom.  “No.”

“I could put an expiration date on it you know,” he warned, dousing the lamplight before burrowing back down in the bed and pulling the covers over his bare shoulder.  “Don’t wait too long.” 

“Yeah, okay, whatever.  Bye, Jon.”

“Bye, Sugar.”

Bobblehead dolls had nothing on Petey when she was within fifty feet of Jon.  Something he said or did always had her head shaking in either disagreement or disbelief. 

Trotting down the stairs, Petey hurried across the cool floor to the foyer, where she gathered up her backpack.  Ducking her head through open doorways and flipping light switches, she found a guest bath on the third try.

It only took her a few minutes to touch up her eyeliner, slip on black skinny jeans and a tee, and cram her feet into yet another pair of Chucks.  Tucking the velvet outfit and shoes in the bag next to her laptop, Petey zippered the large compartment closed.  Almost as an afterthought, she rummaged around in the smaller, front pocket of the bag for her phone. 

A flick of her thumb brought the screen to life, and she found two notifications waiting for her:  one missed call and one text message, both from the same unfamiliar number in the 412 area code.  Petey’s brow wrinkled with confusion as a hint of dread shimmied up her spine. 

Tapping into her unread texts, she located the newest one and felt the hackles rise on her neck.   

[10:57 PM] Darling, so glad I finally found you. See you soon. 

She punched the delete button furiously, no longer having to wonder about the mysterious number.

Like hell you will.