129 - Almost Hear You Sigh

“Motherf…!”  Jon kept himself from throwing the phone across the waiting room.  He’d forgotten to charge it last night and the damn thing had died before he knew whether Petey had heard him. 

“Greg.  Gimme your phone man?  I just lost the juice on mine.” 

“Sure,” the deceptively slender personal guard agreed, readily pulling it from his coat pocket.  “Hang on,” he apologized seeing the screen light up.  “Looks like Rocco.”  He put the device up to his ear, brusquely answering, “Yeah?”

Now is not the time to socialize, boys.  I’m getting crankier by the second.

Greg’s eyes lit on Jon, who was seated directly across the narrow walkway from him.  “No.  Nothing to report.  Yes, I’m sure.  He’s sitting right in front of me.”

Jon lifted his eyes to the ceiling, holding out an open palm and wiggling his fingers.  “Gimme,” he ordered, demanding the phone.

Without another word, the bodyguard passed it over.  Jon’s mouth was in a flat line of annoyance when he tried his best to be polite.  This had been an annoying day.  “Rocco, where is she?.........  Give her the phone.”

“Jon, where the hell are you?” his imp demanded, her husky voice coming in at about three octaves higher than usual.  “All I heard was hospital, blood, Richie and Tony.  Oh, yeah, and die!  What’s wrong and what did the doctor say?”

Of course she only got the worst possible words out of that.

“Sugar,” he tried his best to stuff away his annoyance with the interminable wait so that he could properly reassure her.  “There’s nothing wrong.  At all.  I said I had to talk fast because my phone was about to die – and it did.”

“Well what about the blood, hospital, Richie and Tony?  Was there an accident?”

The fact that she only needed two minutes and six words to get wound tighter than an eight day clock went into his mental filing cabinet.  It was helpful to know she had a hair trigger.

Don’t be a prick.  Would you rather she didn’t give a shit about you or your family?

No.  He wouldn’t.  For somebody who initially seemed so cold and detached from the world, once Petey had opened up to him, she had opened her whole heart.

“Neil sent me to the hospital for blood work – routine blood work because the girl who does it in his office was out today.  I’ve been waiting here for over an hour.”

He didn’t need the damn blood work anyway, in his own personal opinion.  The cholesterol numbers Neil was worried about always came back fine. 

“Oh.”  She was starting to come down off of Manic Mountain.  “Well, what did he say about the chest pains?”

“Just like I told you…” He couldn’t help but lift one corner of his mouth in a smug smirk.  “It’s all fine.  He did an EKG and all that other crap, but didn’t find a thing wrong.  Last night was just a Taser hangover.”

“Stop being condescending,” she snapped half-heartedly.  “You scared the bejesus out of me.  Would it kill you to be nice for two seconds?”

He’d thought he was being nice.  Jon bent forward to prop his elbows on his knees, head falling forward before speaking in a low voice.  “Hey,” he intoned quietly.  “I’m sorry you were scared, but everything’s okay.  Take a deep breath and let it go.”

She was eerily quiet for about twenty seconds before grumbling, “Since when are you the Zen one?”

“I’m anything you need me to be,” was his simply stated answer.  “How was your appointment?”

“Mm.  Good.  You never did tell me how Richie and Tony came to play in this micro-fiasco.”

So the secretive appointment remained secretive…  He had to admit that he was curious as to where Gavin had spirited her away to this afternoon.  Come to think of it, he was curious to see how her hair turned out.  It would be the first time he’d seen her  with no pink strands playing peekaboo in her raven waves.

“I talked to Rich for a long time after  I got out of Neil’s office.  He spent the morning out with Tony, helping him pick out an engagement ring for Dottie.”

“And how are you handling that?”

Much better than he expected.  Of course, it helped that  Dottie had already brought the subject up the other day.  It must have been stewing in the back of his mind.

“Pretty good, believe it or not.  In light of the other shit going on, it’s small potatoes.”

“Jon,” she scolded.  “Can’t you be at least a little bit happy for them?  They’ve paid their dues.”

“Who said I wasn’t happy?  If I wasn’t happy, I wouldn’t have agreed to go over and stay a couple hours with the kids so he can propose.”

“What?”

He couldn’t blame her for the incredulity, but it wasn’t quite as insane as it sounded.

“Tony wants us and Richie to come out to Dottie’s house for dinner tonight.  He’s gonna cook and then we’ll all hang out with the kids while he convinces Dottie to run an errand with him.  That’s when he’s gonna ask her.”

She was still highly skeptical.  “And you’re okay with this?  Really okay with this?”

“Yeah.”  Reclining back into the plastic hospital chair, he shrugged even though she couldn’t see him.  “Life marches on and all that.  If she makes him feel the way you make me feel, then who am I to be a jackass about it?  Besides, it will be good for us to spend time with my posse.”

“I’m proud of you,” Petey praised quietly.  “You’ve come a long way in a short time.”

That was because of her. 

“John Bongiovi?” a small, Latino woman called from the lab’s doorway. 

Jon’s head snapped up and he lifted a casual hand of acknowledgement in the air.  The nurse had rung the bell to save him from being a sap.  “They finally called my name.  I’ve gotta go, Baby.  See you at home.”

“Okay.  Be careful.”

“Hey, Petey?  I almost forgot to say...”  He smiled into the borrowed phone as he pushed to his feet.  “I love you.” 

☠ ☢ ☠

Petey waited impatiently for Rocco to check the apartment.  She loved Gavin, but he had wanted to rehash the whole photo shoot, and she was only interested in getting back to Jon.  It was still a tossup as to whether she wanted to hug or pummel him.

Or I could always go with option number three.

“All clear Petey.” He offered her one of his rare smiles as he waved her into the apartment.  “I’m going back to lobby duty.  Jon’s upstairs.”

“Thanks.”  She offered her own smile and patted his arm as she breezed into the foyer, dropping her bag on the floor.  After closing and locking the door behind him, she strode across the foyer in a determined line for the stairs.  Nimbly flying up them, she stalked into his office, pulling up short when she saw him behind the desk, charging cord dangling from the phone at his ear.

He gave her a silent wave, but didn’t pause his conversation.  “Yeah, so?  Really?  I forgot all about that, man.”

Sidling up next to him, she bent to whisper in his ear, “Who are you talking to?”

“It’s Lemma,” he  murmured.

“Good.”  With minimal fanfare, Petey plucked the phone from his hand, speaking into it.  “He’ll have to call you back David.  Bye.”  Her thumb disconnected the call and Petey dropped the phone on the desk.  Hiking up her skirt, she straddled his lap.  Jon’s hands came up to cradle her hips and he graced her with an affectionate grin.

“Are you trying to work me up and leave me hanging again?”

Petey’s palms roamed his chest, the front of his long-sleeved tee soft under them.  “No.  What time do we have to be in Jersey?”

One curious eyebrow slid upward.  “Six.”

“And Neil said you were really okay?” Delicate fingers danced up to twine the hair at his nape.  “Nothing’s wrong at all?”

His fingers found their way under the hem of her blouse, and lightly stroked her tattoo.  The burgeoning twinkle in his eyes melted her heart.  Call her a ‘ho.  She didn’t care. “I’ve been slacking on the exercise regimen lately, but other than that, no.”

She bent forward, brushing her lips against his jaw, rolling her pelvis forward.  “We’ve got an hour before we have to leave.  I’d be happy to help you work out.”

“Oh yeah?  What happened to our wedding night being different than the night before and the night before thaaaat…” His words degraded into a throaty growl when her lips came in contact with his Adam’s apple, the sharp edge of her teeth scraping against his flesh.

“This is day, not night,” she spoke quietly against the abraded area, swabbing it with her tongue in an effort to soothe.  “You’ve scared the hell out of me three days in a row.  I need to be close to you.”  Petey tugged harshly on the hair wound in her fingers, lazily lifting her head to scowl at him.  “Or punish you.”

The crystal blue of his eyes ebbed, devoured by rapidly dilating black irises, and a corner of that beautiful mouth tipped with utter conceit.  Even as his quiet snort of unadulterated arrogance pissed her off, it acted as a heady aphrodisiac.   “Punish me?  Ain’t gonna happen, Baby.   I’ll have your cute little imp ass across my lap before you can make a move.  And…”  It was his turn to knot his fingers into her hair, tugging sharply.  “…if I don’t at first, I will at last.  Then I won’t just make it pink, I’ll make it red.  Cherry red.”

She wanted him.  Whatever it made her, she wanted him with a fierceness that time only amplified.

“Then I vote for being close to you.”  A deliberate tongue snaked out to wet her lips.  “This time.”

Gripping hands slipped from her hair so that he could ratchet his arms tightly around her waist.  In one easy motion, he stood and deposited her backside on the rich, glossy surface of his desk.  “I like close,” he agreed, seeking his way under the long velvet skirt.  “I also like fast and hard.  Not in the mood for finesse.  Okay by you?” 

The whole rutting pig act shouldn’t be such a turn on, but God if his raw desire doesn’t set me on fire.

“I can live with it.”

Grinning wickedly, he found the pink satin of her panties and his groan worked its way through her nervous system like a siren’s call.  “Look at you,” he commanded roughly.  “Bad ass combat boots and dainty scraps of silky underwear.  You’re enough to drive a man crazy.”

“Do I drive you crazy?” she breathed, combing itchy fingers through his hair while his eyes swallowed her whole. 

She dropped her gaze so that she could see what Jon did.  She’d left off the tights when re-dressing at the photography studio, so it was literally combat boots, pale white skin and hot pink panties.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.  Now lift your butt.” 

Biting at the tendon in his neck, she shifted first one hip, then the other so he could free the skirt and shove it up around her waist.  He wasted no time pushing her thighs apart and burrowing a finger into her already damp slit.  Eyes still covered with glitter and eyeliner fell shut in ecstasy and she crooned with appreciation. 

“Don’t make me wait.”  Anxious fingers fumbled with his belt while she lost her tongue in his mouth.  His delicious chuckle vibrated through her and made her all the more ravenous.  Eating at his mouth, she allowed him to put an end to her fumbling and moved aside so that he could divest himself of the belt and pants. 

“You sure?  I love you, but this ain’t gonna be making love, Baby.”  From beneath her lashes, she could make out the motion of him stroking himself to readiness.  “It’s gonna be a hard, hot fuck.”

“Oh, God, yes.”

Roughly dragging her bottom to the edge of the desk, he leered his approval.  “That’s my girl.  Now wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist.”

How was she supposed to command her limbs when he was evilly flicking at her nipple with one hand and masterfully building his erection with the other?  A single black boot finally found its way around his body, nearly tangling with the jeans riding him at mid-thigh.  The other boot hooked around it as her arms lithely gripped around his muscular shoulders.

He dredged the tip of his arousal through the saturated cleft of her sex, slicking himself up.  “Hold on, Sugar,” was all the warning she received before he released his cock and impaled her with it.

“Mmmpfh!  Ohhh Jon…” 

He wasted no time finding a rhythm to drum up the excitement.  “Squeeze,” he grunted against her mouth.  “Work my cock with your muscles while I fuck you.”

Clamping down around him, she was rewarded with a low, keening moan.  “Awwhh fuck, that’s it… Nngh….  Yeah.....”  He locked his hands together in the small of her back so she couldn’t slide away on the desk’s smooth surface. 

The pace was such that she could do nothing but bury her face in his neck and hold on for the ride.  “Ahh!  Jon, that feels so gooood….”

“Don’t make me wait,” he panted, echoing her earlier plea.  “I can’t come… if you don’t.  Give it up for me.”

Squeezing her eyes closed, she felt the tremors start.  “Almost…  Don’t stop….  One more…  Jon….  Jon…. Ohmygod.....  Uh-unnhhh!”

He slammed home one last time, holding deep in her womb, his indecipherable words of satisfaction mingled with hers.  Hot seed spattered her insides and he slowly retreated only to give one final, hard push before slumping, spent, against her.

Soft lips clung to hers, and he muttered ruefully, “I can’t keep this up ya know.  I’m too old to act like a horny teenager every time you get that look in your eyes.”

She didn’t believe it for a minute.  He was the one who usually instigated this, and Petey had yet to see it take more than thirty seconds for him to be hard and ready.  Jon was purposefully being a pain, and she felt inclined to do the same.

“It’s your new exercise regimen.  Deal with it.”

He dove down to bite the underside of her jaw, chuckling.  “I love you, you damn little imp.”

“Mmm….”  She trailed a soft hand down his throat.  “Such a sweet talker. These are the moments that make me wonder how in the hell you ever came up with Bed of Roses.”