35 - Midnight Rider

God, she was so sweet curled up against him, blankets pooled at their waists.  She’d never done this before.  Usually after they’d had sex, she was on the other side of the bed, if not out the door.  He knew he chanced spooking her away, but Jon couldn’t resist stroking the dark head nestled into his shoulder.

“That feels nice,” she mumbled.

Telling him he’d won some lottery couldn’t have pleased him any more than those three muzzy words.  Nice was a particularly good word.  That’s how her arm felt draped over his chest, fingers twined in the hair there.

“For reasons that I don’t want to go into, I was a virgin until I was twenty-eight,” she confessed quietly, out of the blue.

Jon froze, his hand becoming lifeless at the crown of her head. Was she really going to give away some of her private self without being browbeaten into it?  He remained very still for what seemed like an eternity, his breath held, waiting to see if she would continue.  

“But I’ve always been an avid reader.  In particular, around age thirty, I went through a phase where I was hooked on trashy romance novels.”

Petey?  Romance novels? Those dots didn't even come close to connecting in his mind.  She was all logic, order and attitude.  Star Trek wouldn't have fazed him in the least, but...  romance novels??

“Erotic romance novels were a particular favorite.  They got my… curiosity aroused.”

Stunned or not, he couldn’t resist a slight chuckle.  Jon resumed stroking her head with a softly teasing, “I bet that’s not the only thing that got aroused.”

Her cheek was hot against him, and he’d bet a thousand bucks it was a beautiful shade of pink.

“Yes.  Well.  The man – the one partner – my fiancée actually, for a time.  He was more than a little conservative.”

Fiancee?  Whoa.  Hold the bus.  Petey was engaged?  Not that it made a difference to him personally, since he was divorced with four kids, but still…  It was a shock to think of her engaged, especially to someone 'more than a little conservative'.  For the first time, he stopped to consider that she may not have always been this girl.

Stick with the conversation Bongiovi.  Don't zone out when she's finally talking.


“Stick up his ass conservative?”

It was her turn to chuckle.  “Yeah, that’s pretty apt.  But, since he was the only one I was having sex with at the time, there was no one else I felt that I could ask to…  satisfy those curiosities.  We'd never done anything but straight-laced missionary position sex, so I wasn't really sure how he would react, but I asked anyway.  Once."

The deep breath of her sigh pushed a warm breeze across his shoulder, and Jon willed himself not to tense.  He had a feeling he wasn't going to be happy with where this was headed.

"I started out with what I thought was very commonplace and tame.  Oral sex.  It was the biggest deal ever, but he finally agreed.”  Her fingertips swept absently over his stomach, combing through the coarse hair.  “I ended up wishing I’d never asked.”

“What happened?”

“He was bad at it for one thing.  I didn’t enjoy it like I thought I should.”  She peered up at him from under her eyelashes with a little smile.  “Like you've proven to me I should.”  Petey hummed softly and went back to her mindless patterns on his stomach.  “He got down there and made a few half-hearted swipes with his tongue, nearly gagging.  He had to stop to go brush his teeth and sanitize with mouthwash, and then he refused to have sex for weeks.  I also got a lovely lecture on how real women didn’t need that ‘vile form of sexual depravity’ to have an orgasm.”

Yeah.  He’d known he wasn’t going to like this.  If he ever met that son of a bitch…

Jon dipped his head, kissing her temple. 

Keep it light Jon.

“I like sexual depravity in all its vile forms.”

She snickered, her nails lightly scraping his skin.  “Are you going to share those with me?”

“All you had to do was ask, Baby,” he assured her with a wicked grin that rapidly faded into pensiveness.

He knew he shouldn’t make this serious.  He knew it.  That didn’t mean he could stop himself.  He couldn’t allow her to believe there was something wrong with her, when it was the putz she was sleeping with who had been the problem.

Leaning back, he chucked his thumb under her chin, tilting her face upward. “There’s nothing depraved about it, Petey.  It’s a show of trust to share your body, and that fucker-“ He bit off the string of expletives that served no purpose.  “Well, I’m here to tell you there’s not a thing vile about the way you taste, and if kissed me, you’d see for yourself.”

She stiffened, pulling away with alarm, her head already shaking.  “No.  That was the only thing I asked for tonight Jon.  The only thing.”

“Hey.”  He cupped her nape, gently urging her to relax into him.  “Don’t do that.  I was just saying.”

Jon resumed softly petting her hair and, after a minute, she was touching him again, open palm stroking back and forth across his chest.  They lay that way, content with the quiet for long minutes.  In fact,  he had almost dozed off when the sound of her voice roused him.

“Jon?”

“Yeah, Sugar?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Hmmm... Is it about my sexual depravity, I hope?” he asked with a lecherous drawl.

She giggled.

She giggled for him. 

Dammit, he was getting soft in his old age, but he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his mouth,and gave her a peck on the cheek.  “I think you’ve earned the right to ask whatever you want to ask.  Thank you, by the way.”

“You’re welcome, I guess?”  Petey fidgeted against him.  “And I haven’t forgotten there’s something else you wanted to know, but me first, okay?”

“Sure.”  He could wait.  Whatever Steph knew couldn't be nearly as revealing as what Petey had just shared with him.

Soft lips nibbled at his neck.  “Hey," he scolded gently.  "Do you wanna talk or do you wanna be depraved?”

“Yes,” she whispered, the word creating a puff of warmth against his flesh.

“Petey...” he drew out her name in a soft warning.

One wet swipe of her tongue under his jawline and she reluctantly withdrew.  “When you’re on stage, how do you feel?”

“Feel?”  Was this one of those trick questions?  “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Feel,” she persisted, inching away to lie on her back beside him.  “Angry, focused, energized?”

“That’s a strange thing to ask.”

She flopped her head over to regard him with a smirk.  “Strange is normal for me.  Don’t you know that by now?”

He smirked right back at her.  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”  Jon picked up her hand, studying the glittery pink polish on her short nails.  Such a girl sometimes, such an imp others.  “I don’t know.  Exhilarated?  There’s just so much adrenaline pumping through me, and I feel like everything in the world is perfectly aligned in the time I’m up there.  For that chunk of my life, I’m exactly where I want to be, doing what I love.  There’s nothing like it.  It’s the biggest part of why I keep touring.”

“So, then… happy?”

“As long as the sound board doesn’t blow, yes, happy.  Why?”

Exhilarated was good.  He made her feel that way, even after they squabbled.  Happy was good, too.

Petey wondered if she dared tell him this was a roundabout way of asking how he felt when they were together.  Because his time on stage tonight was only time he’d seemed like ‘her’ Jon, she hypothesized that his internal emotions must be similar to those he experienced when he was with her.

No.  She didn’t dare.

Lifting a careless shoulder, she blithely said, “Because it was the only time you did seem happy tonight.  I wondered if you really were, or if it was part of the stage show.”

“Mm.”

He seemed mercifully content to let it go at that.  His mind was clearly elsewhere.

The mattress rocked and, in a flash, the covers were swept back.  Jon was there, looming over her, eyes blazing a dark blue.  “So tell me more about these erotic romance novels.  What else do you want to try?”

It took a moment to acclimate herself to the abrupt change in topic, but then a super-sized shot of adrenaline made the rounds through her nervous system.

Oh God.  Is this my dying wish being granted?  Why else would the gates to the sexual world have just swung wide open?


She stumbled over her own feet before she could get through the gates.


What do I tell him?  Do I put myself out there to be sexually ridiculed again?

He wouldn't do that, she knew immediately after the thought had gelled.  Tonight had been his chance to take total advantage of her, and he hadn't.

You never know unless you ask.

“There was a term in one of those books,” she murmured, intently focused on the wide mouth hovering so closely above her face.  “It kind of mocks me, sticking in my head on a continuous loop.  Partly because I just like the way it sounds, but also partly with the promise of what it could mean."

“What is it?”  His hips ground into hers and the erection pressing itself into her tummy made this seem all the more sinful.  Deliciously sinful.

She threaded her fingers through the sandy locks of disheveled hair, lightly kneading the scalp above his ears.  How could he want her again so soon?   Better yet, how could he make her want him? 

For once in her life, Petey wasn’t going to analyze something to death.  He was offering, she was taking.

“’Kinky fuckery’.  Whatever that makes you think of, I want to do.”

Jon's grin was positively feral.  “There’s only one problem with that, Sugar,” he drawled, leisurely rotating his hips into her softness.

“Oh?”  She raked her nails down his perfectly formed neck and across his muscular shoulders.  “What might that be?”

Leaning forward, the tip of his tongue swiped against the delicate rim of her ear.  “It’s gonna take at least a week to work my way through that list.  Are you willing to commit that kind of time?”  Jon nipped her earlobe, tearing a gasp from her.  “Every night for the next week?”

“I don’t…”  Jon eased away and then lifted his hips, separating their lower bodies before filling her with one sudden thrust.  “…knowwwww.  Jesus, Jon, you don’t play fair.”

“All’s fair in kinky fuckery and war, Baby,” he breathed in her ear, withdrawing from the body that was fighting so desperately to keep him in its clutches.  “I can make you orgasm in ways you never dreamed of, if you’ll let me.”

Petey’s arms twined around his back, nails digging deep into his shoulders when he forcefully filled her again.  “Oh, that feels so gooood!”

“You feel good around me,” he countered.   "Your tiny body stretched so tight around my cock, squeezing it so perfectly.  Clench your muscles, Baby.”

She did, leaving him to do the gasping this time. 

“Yessssss...  That’s right, just like that.”

Feeling the surge of feminine power, she did it again when he started to retreat, clamping her inner muscles emphatically in an effort to hold her body's welcome intruder captive.

“You asked for this,” he rumbled.  “Hold on, because it’s going to be a fast ride.”

She gripped his shoulders as he began to pummel her with the force of his strokes, bouncing her against the mattress with the short, concentrated jabs to her core.  Petey was so intent on reveling in the moist friction, that when Jon leaned swiftly forward and fastened his teeth onto her left nipple, the unexpectedness of it was her demise.

“Jon!” she cried, splintering like broken glass and granting permission for him to seek his own completion.  It was only seconds later, after several more quick, bone-jarring strokes, that he grunted and flooded her with his liquid heat.

His chest was still heaving up and down against hers when he rolled them both to the side and panted, “So…  A week of kinky fuckery.  Are you in?”

Regular sex with him was off the charts.  If it got any more intense, she may not live through an entire week.

But she was willing to die trying.

“I’m in.”