After they’d eaten - the pizza about as good as could be expected of the frozen variety - they took their coffee through to the living room. Jon picked up the guitar that lay by the couch, strumming gently.
“D’you want another lesson?” He asked.
“That depends.” Billie smirked. “Depends if it ends the same way as the first one.”
“If you want it to.” Jon grinned, shifting on the couch as he remembered just how that had ended, with Billie on her knees sucking him off. “C’mere.”
Billie came across to sit on the couch, and Jon laid the guitar on her lap, moving himself to sit on the edge of the coffee table.
“D’you remember any of what we did?” He saw her smirk, and slapped her knee lightly. “With the guitar, Billie!”
“Oh. Maybe.” She curled her fingers onto the strings, frowning in concentration. “Is that ‘C’?”
“Not quite.” He moved her index finger so it was on the second bottom string. “That’s it. This would be easier if we had another guitar.”
“I think maybe I have one.” Billie said suddenly. “Dad had an electric guitar, too. He never played it, but I remember him having one. Probably don’t have any of the cables or anything for it, though.”
“Wouldn’t matter.” Jon said. “I just need to be able to show you chord shapes. Where is it?”
Billie laughed. “Now, I said I thought I had one. It’s probably in the loft.”
“The hayloft?” Seemed sacrilegious to Jon, to leave a guitar somewhere like that.
“No, idiot. The loft!” She pointed upward, to the ceiling.
“Oh. The attic?”
“Loft. Attic. Whatever. I think it’s up there.”
“Let’s go see.”
Groaning, Billie laid the guitar down, leaning it on the couch. Jon winced, reaching out to turn it around so the strings weren’t pressed against the cushion. He followed Billie to the hallway where she paused, turning around.
“I need a chair.”
“Why? You tired out from walking all the way from the living room?”
“Smartass. No. I need to reach that.” She pointed to the ceiling hatch. “And since you’re barely taller than me, you’re of no use.”
“Sure I am. Of use, I mean. Not taller.” He turned around, bending his knees. “Jump up on my back.”
Billie giggled, bouncing up onto him, and Jon gave a pitiful groan as he straightened his legs, pretending to wobble.
“Jesus, you’re heavy.”
“Hey!” Billie smacked the top of his head. “Don’t be rude! Left a bit.”
“Bossy woman.” Jon grumbled, moving across so she could reach the catch on the access door.
Undoing the bolt, Billie held the door closed. “Move back.”
Jon obeyed, then Billie let go of the door, letting it fall open. It narrowly missed them both, Jon cursing as it swept past his nose way too close for his comfort, and Billie laughed at him.
“You can put me down now.”
“Kinda like you there.” He grinned, the heat of her pleasant on his back, the softness of the breasts pressed to him even more pleasant.
“But we can’t get up into the lo……..attic……..that way.”
He put her down, and Billie pulled down the ladder which was fixed to the door, leading the way up into the dark space. Jon was partway up, following her, when she reached the top and flicked on the light, bathing the dusty boxes and spiderwebs in a dull yellow glow.
“So you don’t like to throw stuff away, huh?” He said as his head cleared floor level.
“Nope. Anyway, I don’t come up here very often.”
Jon stepped up behind her, chuckling as he wrapped one arm around her waist, the other hand going straight down between her thighs.
“And when did you last cum up here?”
“Hey, now! We’re up here to find a guitar, remember?”
“Damn.” He dropped his mouth onto her neck, biting. “I can’t just flex my fingers some other way?”
As he asked, he did just that, pressing against her so Billie squirmed.
“Nope.”
She moved forward, Jon clinging onto her, then as they raised the carpet of dust from the floor he sneezed explosively, right by Billie’s ear.
“Oh, thanks for that!” She protested, and he let go, stepping back.
“Sorry, babe.” He sneezed again. “It’s the dust. Dammit, I thought I’d left my allergies out on the road somewhere.”
“You have allergies? To what?”
“Usually? Pretty much everything. Animals, dust, pollen………you name it.”
“Really? But you’ve been okay with Deke…….and Drummer and Copper…..” She smirked. “And you weren’t sneezing in the hayloft, either.”
“I know.” Yet another sneeze, and his eyes were starting to itch. “S’weird.”
“You look like you’re going to cry.” Billie teased. “Go back downstairs, splash some cold water in your eyes or something. I’ll find the guitar.”
“Okay.” He hated to come across as weak, but he also knew this would just get worse.
As Jon retreated out of the dusty environment, Billie called after him.
“Don’t worry - doesn’t affect your cowboy status!”
He laughed as he hit the ladder, climbing back into the house, finding Deke waiting at the bottom.
“Hey buddy.” His eyes were already sore, so he figured it couldn’t get worse, bending to pat the dog. “How you doin’?”
The dog cocked his head at Jon’s words, and he chuckled. “Your mom’s up there, bro. She’ll be back.”
Leaving Deke, Jon went to the bathroom, doing as he’d been told and bathing his eyes to get rid of the dust. It helped a bit, and he dried his face before heading to the kitchen for a cold drink to clear his throat. In the fridge he found a choice between coke and beer, so with a cold beer in each hand - one for him, one for Billie, he headed back to the hallway.
“Any luck?” He yelled, getting a sneeze as an answer. “You okay?”
“Yep.” Billie’s head appeared over the edge of the floor, dust streaked on her face. “I found it. The case is kinda dusty, so I’ll leave it up here. Guitar looks okay though.”
Jon laid the beers down. “Hand it down, save trying to carry it on the ladder.”
“Okay.”
Billie held the guitar over the edge, holding it by the neck, and Jon grabbed the slim body.
“Got it.”
When Billie released her grip, Jon let the guitar slide down until he held it by the neck. It was a pretty standard model, black with a white pick guard, and it didn’t look like it had ever been played. With the guitar gripped in one hand, he bent to pick up the beers and took everything to the living room. Moments later, Billie appeared, sneezing again.
“I’ll close up the hatch later.” She said. “I’m just going to…..” She gestured at her dusty appearance.
“Yeah. You’re kinda filthy there.” Jon laughed. “I’ll tune this up while you get clean.”
Returning to the living room, clean and in a fresh t shirt, Billie took her place on the couch again, Jon facing her on the coffee table.
“I brought you a beer.” He said, offering the bottle, and she took it with a grin.
“Thanks. I need it.”
“Yeah. Dusty up there.” Jon strummed the electric guitar, the sound muted because there was no amp attached. “Let’s get started, then.”
He led her through the chords they’d done the last time, Billie following him as best she could, and they played for a half hour or so, until Billie begged a break, pleading tender fingers. Jon grinned, laying down the electric guitar and holding out a hand.
“Gimme that one.”
While Billie let her fingers recover, Jon played softly for her, murmuring lyrics in a delightfully intimate way, remembering just what it was about music he loved. Billie managed another half hour after the break, then they quit, Jon knowing enough to let her finish before she’d had enough, to keep her interested. With the guitars laid aside - strings uppermost - Jon drank down the last of his beer.
“So, is there a bar or anything nearby?” He asked. “Wanna go out?”
“Sorry, Jon.” Billie realised he didn’t know. “There’s no bar here. This is a dry county.”
“It is? Shit.”
“Yep. Why do you think I keep so much booze in the house? I stock up when I go to Great Bend.”
“A dry county.” He mused, picking up the guitar again, strumming thoughtfully then looking at Billie, slight shyness in his gaze. “Do you have a notepad or anything? I have an idea.”
“An idea for what?” Nevertheless, she got up, crossing to the dark cabinet that housed her whisky stash, bringing back a notebook and pen and handing them to Jon.
“For a song.”
It was something Billie had never seen. The creative process behind the crafting of a song, and she sat quietly watching - listening - enjoying, really, as Jon scrawled lyrics, picking at chords then writing some more. By the time he’d finished - or as finished as he was going to be - it was almost midnight, and Billie realised she’d been sitting curled on the couch for hours, just enjoying this glimpse into a new experience.
Finally happy with what he’d done - for now at least - Jon played the whole thing through quietly, his closed eyes evidence that the lyrics were burned into his mind. As he reached the end, Billie applauded, and his eyes popped open in surprise. For a while, there, he’d forgotten she was even in the room.
“That’s beautiful, Jon.” She said, beckoning him closer, leaning to kiss him lightly. “You’re pretty good, aren’t you?”
“Thanks, Billie. I work better with Richie, but, well, I already told you…..”
“That you guys fought. Yeah.” Billie shrugged. “I don’t know why, but I think it’ll be okay. Which is weird, considering I don’t know him!”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Cowgirls are always right.” Billie assured him. “I think you’ve got a future in music, too.”
“I’ll trust you on that one!” Jon chuckled. If she only knew.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Chapter Twenty Nine
As Jon headed for the stairs, Billie stretched out a hand to grab a blanket off the rail as they passed. Jon looked at her in surprise.
“Cold, darlin’? I’m gonna fix that!”
“No, I’m not cold.” Billie smirked. “I just don’t want hay stuck in me - that stuff’s spiky.”
“Oh, really. And what do you want stuck in you, then?”
Smirking deliciously, Billie switched hands, holding onto Jon with the hand that had the blanket as her other hand snaked between their bodies, between her own thighs and down to his crotch. She grabbed a gentle handful of what she found there, squeezing lightly.
“This.”
“Anything for a lady.” Jon grinned.
They were halfway up the stairs, but he needed more, and he turned to pin her to the wall, driving his tongue into her mouth in a hungry kiss. Billie kept her hand on his dick, slowly massaging through his jeans until Jon broke away with a gasp.
“Enough. Jesus, you keep that up and it’s all over, Billie.”
“Awww.” She pouted, and Jon chuckled helplessly as her hand kept moving.
Groaning, trying to stop himself thrusting against her hand, Jon hitched her higher on his body, carrying her the rest of the way up into the hayloft.
“Stoppit, will ya?” He dropped her to her feet, and Billie giggled, turning to spread the blanket on a pile of soft hay.
When she turned again, Jon had stripped off his shirt, and he was standing watching her silently.
“Take off your jeans.” He purred, then chuckled. “You can keep the boots on, if you like.”
“Can’t get my jeans off past them, though.” Billie pointed out, but she quickly pulled off her boots and ditched the jeans, too.
Jon’s breathing rose to a growl as he looked at her. Yeah, she was wearing underwear this time, but it was hardly worth the bother - a tiny pink lace triangle was all he could see. He stepped up, framing her face tenderly with his hands, smiling at her. Billie smiled back, then yelped in surprise when Jon dropped his hands to her shoulders and pushed, toppling her on her back on the blanket. He stood over her, grinning, then dropped to his knees, straddling one of her legs.
Dropping forward, Jon put his hands either side of her head, and hovered over her, leaning to brush his crotch against her thigh before lowering to kiss her again. He raised his head again, his knee tight against her groin as he sat back, Billie trying not to squirm at the pressure. Jon slowly unbuttoned the loose denim shirt she wore, exposing yet more pink lace, then he pulled her gently to a sitting position, stripping her shirt all the way off and tossing it to lie on top of his on a nearby hay bale.
As Jon reached behind her, unhooking her bra, Billie took the opportunity to unfasten his jeans, slipping her hands into the waist, pushing the denim down to his thighs. Jon gasped as she bowed her head, taking just the tip of him between her lips, licking around his swollen head.
“Billie.” He breathed, but that wasn’t what he had in mind right now, so after enjoying her mouth for a moment, he pushed her down again, rising to his feet once more.
Billie lay back, watching him strip off his jeans and boots, standing naked over her. Jon reached to catch hold of her panties, pulling them down her thighs, then he grinned, one hand grabbing both her ankles, lifting her legs high so he could pull the panties all the way off.
After tossing the lace somewhere, he kept hold of her ankles, stroking his hands down her calves as he watched her bite her lip. Jon shifted his grip, one ankle in each hand as he sank to his knees, spreading Billie wide beneath him. She reached for him then, stretching both arms up to Jon.
“Please.” She whispered almost shyly, and he grinned, leaning down.
He took her slowly, easing himself in a fraction at a time, listening to her moan of pleasure as he sank so deeply inside. Raised over her on outstretched arms, Jon pulled back and thrust home again, feeling Billie bring one hand onto his ass. Her free hand reached to grab onto his hair, pulling him down, and Jon realised what she wanted, letting his body lie completely on hers, Billie moaning again as she kissed him.
Her hand was knotted into his hair, and as her fingernails dug into his butt Jon took the hint, driving into her harder and faster. Billie was whimpering, thrusting her hips against him, and Jon raised his head to look down on her.
“Scream for me.” He murmured, but she shook her head defiantly.
“No.”
It became almost a contest, Jon’s hand between her thighs, stroking her clit as his hips thrust against her, trying to force her to cry out. Billie fought it, biting hard on her lip as she came, not even sure why she was being so stubborn, because the scream was right there in the back of her throat. All she allowed herself, though, was a guttural groan of pleasure as Jon threw her into orgasm.
Gasping, panting, she realised he’d stopped moving, but he was still rock hard inside her. As she opened her eyes, tasting blood in her mouth from biting so hard on her lip, she saw him smirking at her.
“You didn’t scream.” He growled.
“No.”
“You will.” Jon promised, not quite angry, but certainly determined to get his own way.
He shocked Billie when he pulled out of her, his swollen dick glistening with her juices, then Jon grabbed her, lifting her, lifting himself to his feet and turning her around, throwing her toward the stacked bales. Before Billie could protest - or at least ask what he was doing - Jon had pushed her onto the bale where their shirts lay, pushing her forward until she was straddling the bale as though it were Drummer.
Her legs were spread wide, and Jon pushed on her shoulders until Billie leaned down, her elbows on the bale. He grabbed her hips then, Billie helpless, and he slowly drove his cock into her again from behind, her position tightening her around him and making every movement of Jon’s cock inside her slide across that especially sensitive spot that so many guys seemed clueless about.
“Oh Jesus.” Billie mumbled as Jon gave another slow, hard thrust. She’d fight it as long as she could, but she already knew he’d won.
“Scream for me.” Jon said again, and Billie could hear the tension in his low voice, the control he was exerting.
“No.” She gasped as he surprised her, slamming into her this time, tearing a groan from her throat.
“Scream for me, Billie. I want to hear you screaming my name.” Jon’s thrusts were accelerating, pounding her now, his grip on her hips all that kept her from falling forward onto the hay.
“No…….I………oh, God…….” Billie’s hands clawed into the hay as she bucked, already starting to climax again. She couldn’t stop herself, and she panted out his name. “Jon.”
“Louder, darlin’.” His voice was a strained grunt now as he reached the limit of his control, fighting himself now as every slamming thrust ripped through his senses.
“Jon.” She panted again. “Oh, sweet Jesus, Jon………Jon………Jon!”
As Billie screamed, clenching around him, bucking against his grip, Jon roared, letting go finally, his back arching as he orgasmed, hips pumping as pleasure surged through him. The strength of it buckled his knees, and he gripped harder onto Billie’s hips to stay upright, pulling out of her as the last drops escaped him, collapsing back onto the blanket and pulling Billie with him.
Billie was still moaning, her flesh still pulsing as Jon gathered her into his arms, both of them sweat-soaked and panting as they curled together on the blanket.
Slowly recovering enough of their senses to think, Billie raised her head to look at Jon, seeing the relaxed grin on his face.
“Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?” She murmured, knowing the answer.
“I knew I could make you scream.” He chuckled, planting a kiss on her forehead.
“Smartass.” Billie muttered, smiling as she curled closer into his arms.
Lying back on the blanket, naked and exhausted, Jon held her close and shut his eyes, enjoying the lingering euphoria of orgasm.
Slowly raising her head again from where it was pillowed on a hard, furry chest, Billie looked around in surprise.
“Oops.” She whispered, nudging Jon without response. “Hey! Wake up!” She flicked his nipple with a fingernail until one blue eye popped open to look at her suspiciously.
“What?”
“In case you haven’t noticed - it’s dark.” Billie sat up, suddenly realising she felt cold. “We fell asleep.”
“We did?” Jon opened both eyes reluctantly, seeing it was, indeed, dark. “Shit. Are there lights in here?”
“Yeah. Downstairs. I do, however, have a flashlight up here somewhere.” She got to her feet. “Don’t move.”
Shuffling cautiously, naked and barefoot, Billie peered in the darkness, orienting herself in the loft. As her eyes picked up the dim starlight from outside, she could see the outline of the stair, and she moved with a little more confidence across to the top of the stair, groping for the flashlight she knew was hanging there. Finding it eventually, she flicked it on, thankful that she was conscientious about keeping the batteries fully charged.
“Hey!” She said, flashing the beam around until it landed on Jon. “There’s a naked cowboy in my hayloft!”
Jon grinned. “I’m a cowboy again?”
“Uh-huh.” Billie smirked as she walked over, picking up her denim shirt and tossing Jon his t shirt. “Only cowboys fuck in haylofts.”
Jon laughed, pulling on his shirt, and they both found their jeans and boots before heading carefully down the stairs. Once they hit ground level, Billie realised none of the animals had been fed, so with Jon’s help she got Drummer and Copper dealt with before they jumped in the pickup and took it down to the garage. Inside the house, Deke was waiting, so Billie fed him while Jon took charge of coffee-making, then she found some frozen pizza and threw it in the oven to cook while they both got cleaned up.
“Cold, darlin’? I’m gonna fix that!”
“No, I’m not cold.” Billie smirked. “I just don’t want hay stuck in me - that stuff’s spiky.”
“Oh, really. And what do you want stuck in you, then?”
Smirking deliciously, Billie switched hands, holding onto Jon with the hand that had the blanket as her other hand snaked between their bodies, between her own thighs and down to his crotch. She grabbed a gentle handful of what she found there, squeezing lightly.
“This.”
“Anything for a lady.” Jon grinned.
They were halfway up the stairs, but he needed more, and he turned to pin her to the wall, driving his tongue into her mouth in a hungry kiss. Billie kept her hand on his dick, slowly massaging through his jeans until Jon broke away with a gasp.
“Enough. Jesus, you keep that up and it’s all over, Billie.”
“Awww.” She pouted, and Jon chuckled helplessly as her hand kept moving.
Groaning, trying to stop himself thrusting against her hand, Jon hitched her higher on his body, carrying her the rest of the way up into the hayloft.
“Stoppit, will ya?” He dropped her to her feet, and Billie giggled, turning to spread the blanket on a pile of soft hay.
When she turned again, Jon had stripped off his shirt, and he was standing watching her silently.
“Take off your jeans.” He purred, then chuckled. “You can keep the boots on, if you like.”
“Can’t get my jeans off past them, though.” Billie pointed out, but she quickly pulled off her boots and ditched the jeans, too.
Jon’s breathing rose to a growl as he looked at her. Yeah, she was wearing underwear this time, but it was hardly worth the bother - a tiny pink lace triangle was all he could see. He stepped up, framing her face tenderly with his hands, smiling at her. Billie smiled back, then yelped in surprise when Jon dropped his hands to her shoulders and pushed, toppling her on her back on the blanket. He stood over her, grinning, then dropped to his knees, straddling one of her legs.
Dropping forward, Jon put his hands either side of her head, and hovered over her, leaning to brush his crotch against her thigh before lowering to kiss her again. He raised his head again, his knee tight against her groin as he sat back, Billie trying not to squirm at the pressure. Jon slowly unbuttoned the loose denim shirt she wore, exposing yet more pink lace, then he pulled her gently to a sitting position, stripping her shirt all the way off and tossing it to lie on top of his on a nearby hay bale.
As Jon reached behind her, unhooking her bra, Billie took the opportunity to unfasten his jeans, slipping her hands into the waist, pushing the denim down to his thighs. Jon gasped as she bowed her head, taking just the tip of him between her lips, licking around his swollen head.
“Billie.” He breathed, but that wasn’t what he had in mind right now, so after enjoying her mouth for a moment, he pushed her down again, rising to his feet once more.
Billie lay back, watching him strip off his jeans and boots, standing naked over her. Jon reached to catch hold of her panties, pulling them down her thighs, then he grinned, one hand grabbing both her ankles, lifting her legs high so he could pull the panties all the way off.
After tossing the lace somewhere, he kept hold of her ankles, stroking his hands down her calves as he watched her bite her lip. Jon shifted his grip, one ankle in each hand as he sank to his knees, spreading Billie wide beneath him. She reached for him then, stretching both arms up to Jon.
“Please.” She whispered almost shyly, and he grinned, leaning down.
He took her slowly, easing himself in a fraction at a time, listening to her moan of pleasure as he sank so deeply inside. Raised over her on outstretched arms, Jon pulled back and thrust home again, feeling Billie bring one hand onto his ass. Her free hand reached to grab onto his hair, pulling him down, and Jon realised what she wanted, letting his body lie completely on hers, Billie moaning again as she kissed him.
Her hand was knotted into his hair, and as her fingernails dug into his butt Jon took the hint, driving into her harder and faster. Billie was whimpering, thrusting her hips against him, and Jon raised his head to look down on her.
“Scream for me.” He murmured, but she shook her head defiantly.
“No.”
It became almost a contest, Jon’s hand between her thighs, stroking her clit as his hips thrust against her, trying to force her to cry out. Billie fought it, biting hard on her lip as she came, not even sure why she was being so stubborn, because the scream was right there in the back of her throat. All she allowed herself, though, was a guttural groan of pleasure as Jon threw her into orgasm.
Gasping, panting, she realised he’d stopped moving, but he was still rock hard inside her. As she opened her eyes, tasting blood in her mouth from biting so hard on her lip, she saw him smirking at her.
“You didn’t scream.” He growled.
“No.”
“You will.” Jon promised, not quite angry, but certainly determined to get his own way.
He shocked Billie when he pulled out of her, his swollen dick glistening with her juices, then Jon grabbed her, lifting her, lifting himself to his feet and turning her around, throwing her toward the stacked bales. Before Billie could protest - or at least ask what he was doing - Jon had pushed her onto the bale where their shirts lay, pushing her forward until she was straddling the bale as though it were Drummer.
Her legs were spread wide, and Jon pushed on her shoulders until Billie leaned down, her elbows on the bale. He grabbed her hips then, Billie helpless, and he slowly drove his cock into her again from behind, her position tightening her around him and making every movement of Jon’s cock inside her slide across that especially sensitive spot that so many guys seemed clueless about.
“Oh Jesus.” Billie mumbled as Jon gave another slow, hard thrust. She’d fight it as long as she could, but she already knew he’d won.
“Scream for me.” Jon said again, and Billie could hear the tension in his low voice, the control he was exerting.
“No.” She gasped as he surprised her, slamming into her this time, tearing a groan from her throat.
“Scream for me, Billie. I want to hear you screaming my name.” Jon’s thrusts were accelerating, pounding her now, his grip on her hips all that kept her from falling forward onto the hay.
“No…….I………oh, God…….” Billie’s hands clawed into the hay as she bucked, already starting to climax again. She couldn’t stop herself, and she panted out his name. “Jon.”
“Louder, darlin’.” His voice was a strained grunt now as he reached the limit of his control, fighting himself now as every slamming thrust ripped through his senses.
“Jon.” She panted again. “Oh, sweet Jesus, Jon………Jon………Jon!”
As Billie screamed, clenching around him, bucking against his grip, Jon roared, letting go finally, his back arching as he orgasmed, hips pumping as pleasure surged through him. The strength of it buckled his knees, and he gripped harder onto Billie’s hips to stay upright, pulling out of her as the last drops escaped him, collapsing back onto the blanket and pulling Billie with him.
Billie was still moaning, her flesh still pulsing as Jon gathered her into his arms, both of them sweat-soaked and panting as they curled together on the blanket.
Slowly recovering enough of their senses to think, Billie raised her head to look at Jon, seeing the relaxed grin on his face.
“Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?” She murmured, knowing the answer.
“I knew I could make you scream.” He chuckled, planting a kiss on her forehead.
“Smartass.” Billie muttered, smiling as she curled closer into his arms.
Lying back on the blanket, naked and exhausted, Jon held her close and shut his eyes, enjoying the lingering euphoria of orgasm.
Slowly raising her head again from where it was pillowed on a hard, furry chest, Billie looked around in surprise.
“Oops.” She whispered, nudging Jon without response. “Hey! Wake up!” She flicked his nipple with a fingernail until one blue eye popped open to look at her suspiciously.
“What?”
“In case you haven’t noticed - it’s dark.” Billie sat up, suddenly realising she felt cold. “We fell asleep.”
“We did?” Jon opened both eyes reluctantly, seeing it was, indeed, dark. “Shit. Are there lights in here?”
“Yeah. Downstairs. I do, however, have a flashlight up here somewhere.” She got to her feet. “Don’t move.”
Shuffling cautiously, naked and barefoot, Billie peered in the darkness, orienting herself in the loft. As her eyes picked up the dim starlight from outside, she could see the outline of the stair, and she moved with a little more confidence across to the top of the stair, groping for the flashlight she knew was hanging there. Finding it eventually, she flicked it on, thankful that she was conscientious about keeping the batteries fully charged.
“Hey!” She said, flashing the beam around until it landed on Jon. “There’s a naked cowboy in my hayloft!”
Jon grinned. “I’m a cowboy again?”
“Uh-huh.” Billie smirked as she walked over, picking up her denim shirt and tossing Jon his t shirt. “Only cowboys fuck in haylofts.”
Jon laughed, pulling on his shirt, and they both found their jeans and boots before heading carefully down the stairs. Once they hit ground level, Billie realised none of the animals had been fed, so with Jon’s help she got Drummer and Copper dealt with before they jumped in the pickup and took it down to the garage. Inside the house, Deke was waiting, so Billie fed him while Jon took charge of coffee-making, then she found some frozen pizza and threw it in the oven to cook while they both got cleaned up.
Chapter Twenty Eight
Pushing the door open, Jon glanced up as the old-fashioned bell above his head rang softly, like something out of a cowboy movie. Grinning, he let the door close behind him, looking around the store.
“Afternoon.” Came a voice from off to his left somewhere. “Help you?”
“Oh, hi.” He turned, seeing a middle-aged man behind a counter. “No, I’m good, thanks. Just need a few things.”
The man just nodded, his eyes non-committal, and as Jon walked across the store toward a rack of jeans he could feel the guy watching him. Wondering if they just didn’t like strangers, Jon caught sight of himself in a mirror and realised that perhaps he didn’t look like the type of customer they wanted. His hair was at least clean, but it did hang well down past his shoulders, wavy and unruly as ever. Maybe he should also consider increasing the regularity with which he forced himself to drag a razor over his face, as the four-day growth of stubble on his face made him look even more like some wandering Hell’s Angel.
He reached the rack of jeans, now slightly self-conscious, sure that the guy was still watching him closely. Flipping through hangers, Jon found jeans in his size and pulled a pair from their hanger, holding them up. Okay, so they weren’t designer labels, but he never really bothered about that anyway.
“Finding what you need?”
Jon started - he hadn’t heard the man approach, and he turned around.
“Thanks. Yeah. I just need some fresh jeans. Okay to try these?”
“Hey, Cal.” Yet another male voice. “Do you have any………oh, hi. Jon, isn’t it?”
Turning again, Jon saw Mike, the vet he and Billie had rousted out of bed in the middle of the night.
“Hi Mike. Good to see you.”
“Mike?” The guy that Jon now assumed was Cal gestured toward Jon. “You know him?”
“Huh? Yeah, sure. He’s staying out at the Kelsall place. He and Billie had to bring Deke in late last night. Or was it this morning?”
“Morning, I think.” Jon grinned. “Thanks for looking after him - I really thought he’d had it, but he seems fine now.”
“That’s what I do.” Mike nodded, though, accepting the gratitude. “Keeping pressure on the wounds is probably what saved him, so Billie has you to thank for that.”
“Not those damned coyotes again?” Cal asked, and Mike nodded.
“Yeah. Seems that way.”
“It was.” Jon interjected. “But it won’t be biting anything else. Deke killed it before he came to me.”
“Good.” Cal said with finality, then smiled at Jon for the first time. “Sorry, son. Go right ahead and try those on if you want. Changing room over in the corner.”
“Thanks.”
Carrying the jeans, and picking up a couple of shirts that appealed to him as he passed, Jon headed for the changing room, grinning wryly as he thought how Mike’s arrival had been very timely. If nothing else, the fact that the vet vouched for him had elevated him from an outsider to be treated with suspicion to an almost-local, deserving of friendly treatment and trust.
He closed himself into the changing room and quickly changed his own jeans for the new pair. They fit fine, so he pulled his own back on and then tried one of the shirts for size. Another success, and Jon left the changing room, heading to the cash register. He got a little sidetracked on the way when a flash of mottled blue caught his eye, so when he finally got to the counter he had another shirt in his hands, piling it all in front of Cal.
“Damn.” Jon said suddenly. “You take Amex, right?”
“Sure.” Cal said agreeably. “You got ID?”
“Uh - driver’s license?”
“That’ll do it.”
Cal added the total and Jon handed over his card and license. He’d scrawled his signature on the slip - Cal didn’t even check it - and was stuffing his wallet back into his pocket when there was a female voice behind him.
“Excuse me. Are you Jon?”
“Yeah.” Cursing silently, Jon turned around, braced for an autograph request. He wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or insulted when the young girl just smiled.
“Billie asked me to let you know she’s taking the truck around back, to pick up some feed. I can take you through that way.”
“Oh. Okay, thanks.” He said.
He’d have been a liar if he’d said that it didn’t bother him that, thus far, not a single person in town had recognised him. For God’s sake - his band had exploded onto the global stage over the last few years, playing more shows than anybody could’ve imagined, yet here he was just ‘the guy with Billie’. Maybe nobody in this town listened to anything but country music he thought a little sourly, then swallowed a laugh at his own hypocrisy. Wasn’t this just why he’d taken off into the blue yonder? To get away from the adulation and the ass-kissing?
Taking the old-fashioned paper sack from Cal with a polite ‘thank you’, Jon followed the girl through the store, passing through a section filled with saddles and bridles and God-only-knew-what-else that Jon didn’t recognise. They emerged into the evening sunlight at the back of the building, where Jon saw Billie’s truck backed up to a loading ramp. One of the staff, a husky young guy in just a pair of jeans, was loading sacks of feed into the pickup, and Jon couldn’t help noticing that every time the guy turned to go back for another sack, his eyes lingered on Billie where she sat perched on the hood of the truck.
“Get everything you needed?” Billie called, and Jon nodded, holding up the sack.
“Yep.” He grinned, then turned to the young girl who was heading back inside. “Thanks, miss.”
“Not a problem.” She smiled and went back inside.
Jon went down the couple of steps to ground level, walking over to the pickup and tossing his new clothes through the open passenger window. Going to the front of the truck, he looked up at Billie, laying his hands lightly on her knees, devilment in his heart, spurred by a hint of jealousy.
“I wanna kiss you.” He purred.
“Do you now? After earlier? When you got…..” She gently rubbed a foot between his legs.
“Oh, yeah. At least this time I just gotta get in the truck. Maybe we can, y’know, pull off the road on the way back to the ranch and……”
“Hey now!” She giggled, her foot still rubbing, then she put her hands on his shoulders. “Help me down?”
Grinning, Jon caught her by the waist and pulled her toward him.
“I bet you didn’t need help to get up there, did you?”
“Nope.” Billie agreed as she landed on her feet in front of him, Jon’s body against her front and the pickup against her back.
“Didn’t think so.” Jon smirked, leaning in, taking it slow to give her the chance to push him back if she didn’t want him to kiss her here in public.
It didn’t seem like she had a problem with it, though, as Billie just tilted her face to him, letting Jon slide his tongue into her mouth, and just as his eyes closed Jon caught a glimpse of the young guy, his face twisting into a scowl when he saw them. Jon drew the kiss out, thoroughly probing Billie’s mouth with his tongue, feeling her pressing toward him, then they parted as they heard an exaggerated cough.
“Uh, sorry, Billie. That’s you all loaded.” Said the young guy, and Billie smiled up at him, no embarrassment in her.
“Thanks, Petey.” She smiled up at Jon. “We can go now.”
“Okay, darlin’.” He stepped back, grinning as Billie’s glance ran down his body. “Not this time.” Jon smirked.
Billie went to the back of the pickup, double-checking that the tailgate was latched securely, then she came back to the driver’s door, climbing in. She drove off with a wave to Petey, bumping over the rough gravel until they reached the road, then accelerating away.
“Are we in a hurry?” Jon asked as the truck picked up speed.
“Kinda.” Billie glanced over at him. “I need to get this feed into the barn, and it’s easier if it’s still light.”
“Oh. I thought you were just tryin’ to scare me.”
“What? You don’t like women drivers?” She teased, quickly checking the road ahead was completely clear before lifting both hands from the wheel, pretending to cover her eyes. “Just cover your eyes like this.”
“Jesus, Billie!” Jon laughed, reaching to grab the wheel, but she had a hand on it again already. “You’re nuts, lady!”
“I know.”
Back at the ranch, she drove right up to the barn, pointing out as they crossed the yard that the coyote carcass was gone. She swung the pickup in a loop then backed right up to the barn door, minimising the carrying distance.
“Feeling energetic?” She asked.
“I guess so.” Jon smiled, getting out of the truck.
The sacks were marked as fifty pounds, and there were thankfully only three of them. Jon boosted Billie up into the truck and she slid the first sack to him, Jon carrying it inside. He came back, pretending his legs were about to give out, and she laughed, giving him a second sack.
“This is slave labor!” He yelled as he headed back into the barn.
Shaking her head, Billie edged the final sack to the edge of the truck bed, balancing it precariously on it’s end before jumping to the ground. With a practised move, she tipped the sack onto her shoulder, holding it in place with one hand on top, one supporting the front end, and she started the walk into the barn.
“Dammit, Billie!” Jon said when he saw her. “That’s too heavy for you!”
“I’m not a delicate little flower, Jon.” Billie said as she walked past him. “In fact, I seem to remember matching you bale for bale when we moved the hay.”
There was a crackle in her voice that said she didn’t like being thought less of, just because she happened to be female, and Jon winced, following her into the barn. She dumped the sack onto the pile, and Jon caught her rubbing her back gently.
“Not a delicate flower, but you’re a stubborn little smartass, aren’t you?” He grinned, leaning on the wall.
“I’m not……..” Billie broke off, the boyish grin on Jon’s face challenging her determination. “I’m not little.”
“Sure you are.” He smirked, walking toward her, wrapping his hands onto her waist. “In fact, you’re so little that I can just pick you up - like this.”
He did, lifting her off her feet, then the grin was back.
“And you’re so hot that I think I wanna just carry you upstairs and lay you down on that pile of hay and fuck you.”
“And if I scream?” Billie asked, lifting her legs to wrap around him.
“I’ll know I’ve done enough.” Jon smirked. “I’ll know I’ve made you cum.”
With Billie’s mouth on his neck, kissing and nibbling, Jon headed to the wooden stairs, his dick growing harder with every step he took.
“Afternoon.” Came a voice from off to his left somewhere. “Help you?”
“Oh, hi.” He turned, seeing a middle-aged man behind a counter. “No, I’m good, thanks. Just need a few things.”
The man just nodded, his eyes non-committal, and as Jon walked across the store toward a rack of jeans he could feel the guy watching him. Wondering if they just didn’t like strangers, Jon caught sight of himself in a mirror and realised that perhaps he didn’t look like the type of customer they wanted. His hair was at least clean, but it did hang well down past his shoulders, wavy and unruly as ever. Maybe he should also consider increasing the regularity with which he forced himself to drag a razor over his face, as the four-day growth of stubble on his face made him look even more like some wandering Hell’s Angel.
He reached the rack of jeans, now slightly self-conscious, sure that the guy was still watching him closely. Flipping through hangers, Jon found jeans in his size and pulled a pair from their hanger, holding them up. Okay, so they weren’t designer labels, but he never really bothered about that anyway.
“Finding what you need?”
Jon started - he hadn’t heard the man approach, and he turned around.
“Thanks. Yeah. I just need some fresh jeans. Okay to try these?”
“Hey, Cal.” Yet another male voice. “Do you have any………oh, hi. Jon, isn’t it?”
Turning again, Jon saw Mike, the vet he and Billie had rousted out of bed in the middle of the night.
“Hi Mike. Good to see you.”
“Mike?” The guy that Jon now assumed was Cal gestured toward Jon. “You know him?”
“Huh? Yeah, sure. He’s staying out at the Kelsall place. He and Billie had to bring Deke in late last night. Or was it this morning?”
“Morning, I think.” Jon grinned. “Thanks for looking after him - I really thought he’d had it, but he seems fine now.”
“That’s what I do.” Mike nodded, though, accepting the gratitude. “Keeping pressure on the wounds is probably what saved him, so Billie has you to thank for that.”
“Not those damned coyotes again?” Cal asked, and Mike nodded.
“Yeah. Seems that way.”
“It was.” Jon interjected. “But it won’t be biting anything else. Deke killed it before he came to me.”
“Good.” Cal said with finality, then smiled at Jon for the first time. “Sorry, son. Go right ahead and try those on if you want. Changing room over in the corner.”
“Thanks.”
Carrying the jeans, and picking up a couple of shirts that appealed to him as he passed, Jon headed for the changing room, grinning wryly as he thought how Mike’s arrival had been very timely. If nothing else, the fact that the vet vouched for him had elevated him from an outsider to be treated with suspicion to an almost-local, deserving of friendly treatment and trust.
He closed himself into the changing room and quickly changed his own jeans for the new pair. They fit fine, so he pulled his own back on and then tried one of the shirts for size. Another success, and Jon left the changing room, heading to the cash register. He got a little sidetracked on the way when a flash of mottled blue caught his eye, so when he finally got to the counter he had another shirt in his hands, piling it all in front of Cal.
“Damn.” Jon said suddenly. “You take Amex, right?”
“Sure.” Cal said agreeably. “You got ID?”
“Uh - driver’s license?”
“That’ll do it.”
Cal added the total and Jon handed over his card and license. He’d scrawled his signature on the slip - Cal didn’t even check it - and was stuffing his wallet back into his pocket when there was a female voice behind him.
“Excuse me. Are you Jon?”
“Yeah.” Cursing silently, Jon turned around, braced for an autograph request. He wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or insulted when the young girl just smiled.
“Billie asked me to let you know she’s taking the truck around back, to pick up some feed. I can take you through that way.”
“Oh. Okay, thanks.” He said.
He’d have been a liar if he’d said that it didn’t bother him that, thus far, not a single person in town had recognised him. For God’s sake - his band had exploded onto the global stage over the last few years, playing more shows than anybody could’ve imagined, yet here he was just ‘the guy with Billie’. Maybe nobody in this town listened to anything but country music he thought a little sourly, then swallowed a laugh at his own hypocrisy. Wasn’t this just why he’d taken off into the blue yonder? To get away from the adulation and the ass-kissing?
Taking the old-fashioned paper sack from Cal with a polite ‘thank you’, Jon followed the girl through the store, passing through a section filled with saddles and bridles and God-only-knew-what-else that Jon didn’t recognise. They emerged into the evening sunlight at the back of the building, where Jon saw Billie’s truck backed up to a loading ramp. One of the staff, a husky young guy in just a pair of jeans, was loading sacks of feed into the pickup, and Jon couldn’t help noticing that every time the guy turned to go back for another sack, his eyes lingered on Billie where she sat perched on the hood of the truck.
“Get everything you needed?” Billie called, and Jon nodded, holding up the sack.
“Yep.” He grinned, then turned to the young girl who was heading back inside. “Thanks, miss.”
“Not a problem.” She smiled and went back inside.
Jon went down the couple of steps to ground level, walking over to the pickup and tossing his new clothes through the open passenger window. Going to the front of the truck, he looked up at Billie, laying his hands lightly on her knees, devilment in his heart, spurred by a hint of jealousy.
“I wanna kiss you.” He purred.
“Do you now? After earlier? When you got…..” She gently rubbed a foot between his legs.
“Oh, yeah. At least this time I just gotta get in the truck. Maybe we can, y’know, pull off the road on the way back to the ranch and……”
“Hey now!” She giggled, her foot still rubbing, then she put her hands on his shoulders. “Help me down?”
Grinning, Jon caught her by the waist and pulled her toward him.
“I bet you didn’t need help to get up there, did you?”
“Nope.” Billie agreed as she landed on her feet in front of him, Jon’s body against her front and the pickup against her back.
“Didn’t think so.” Jon smirked, leaning in, taking it slow to give her the chance to push him back if she didn’t want him to kiss her here in public.
It didn’t seem like she had a problem with it, though, as Billie just tilted her face to him, letting Jon slide his tongue into her mouth, and just as his eyes closed Jon caught a glimpse of the young guy, his face twisting into a scowl when he saw them. Jon drew the kiss out, thoroughly probing Billie’s mouth with his tongue, feeling her pressing toward him, then they parted as they heard an exaggerated cough.
“Uh, sorry, Billie. That’s you all loaded.” Said the young guy, and Billie smiled up at him, no embarrassment in her.
“Thanks, Petey.” She smiled up at Jon. “We can go now.”
“Okay, darlin’.” He stepped back, grinning as Billie’s glance ran down his body. “Not this time.” Jon smirked.
Billie went to the back of the pickup, double-checking that the tailgate was latched securely, then she came back to the driver’s door, climbing in. She drove off with a wave to Petey, bumping over the rough gravel until they reached the road, then accelerating away.
“Are we in a hurry?” Jon asked as the truck picked up speed.
“Kinda.” Billie glanced over at him. “I need to get this feed into the barn, and it’s easier if it’s still light.”
“Oh. I thought you were just tryin’ to scare me.”
“What? You don’t like women drivers?” She teased, quickly checking the road ahead was completely clear before lifting both hands from the wheel, pretending to cover her eyes. “Just cover your eyes like this.”
“Jesus, Billie!” Jon laughed, reaching to grab the wheel, but she had a hand on it again already. “You’re nuts, lady!”
“I know.”
Back at the ranch, she drove right up to the barn, pointing out as they crossed the yard that the coyote carcass was gone. She swung the pickup in a loop then backed right up to the barn door, minimising the carrying distance.
“Feeling energetic?” She asked.
“I guess so.” Jon smiled, getting out of the truck.
The sacks were marked as fifty pounds, and there were thankfully only three of them. Jon boosted Billie up into the truck and she slid the first sack to him, Jon carrying it inside. He came back, pretending his legs were about to give out, and she laughed, giving him a second sack.
“This is slave labor!” He yelled as he headed back into the barn.
Shaking her head, Billie edged the final sack to the edge of the truck bed, balancing it precariously on it’s end before jumping to the ground. With a practised move, she tipped the sack onto her shoulder, holding it in place with one hand on top, one supporting the front end, and she started the walk into the barn.
“Dammit, Billie!” Jon said when he saw her. “That’s too heavy for you!”
“I’m not a delicate little flower, Jon.” Billie said as she walked past him. “In fact, I seem to remember matching you bale for bale when we moved the hay.”
There was a crackle in her voice that said she didn’t like being thought less of, just because she happened to be female, and Jon winced, following her into the barn. She dumped the sack onto the pile, and Jon caught her rubbing her back gently.
“Not a delicate flower, but you’re a stubborn little smartass, aren’t you?” He grinned, leaning on the wall.
“I’m not……..” Billie broke off, the boyish grin on Jon’s face challenging her determination. “I’m not little.”
“Sure you are.” He smirked, walking toward her, wrapping his hands onto her waist. “In fact, you’re so little that I can just pick you up - like this.”
He did, lifting her off her feet, then the grin was back.
“And you’re so hot that I think I wanna just carry you upstairs and lay you down on that pile of hay and fuck you.”
“And if I scream?” Billie asked, lifting her legs to wrap around him.
“I’ll know I’ve done enough.” Jon smirked. “I’ll know I’ve made you cum.”
With Billie’s mouth on his neck, kissing and nibbling, Jon headed to the wooden stairs, his dick growing harder with every step he took.
Chapter Twenty Seven
When they were ready to leave again, Billie whistled Deke out from his hiding place under the porch, taking him around to the kitchen door - to avoid the stairs - and shooing him into the house. With the kitchen door open, she flipped the catch on the doggy door, securing it, then she shut him inside as Jon waited out on the porch.
“Just shutting him in, in case there’s any more coyotes about.” Billie explained as she returned. “He may have won the last fight, but he’s in no state for another.”
“D’you want me to move that dead coyote?” Jon asked, realising as he said it that he didn’t really want to touch it. Dead, no doubt flea-infested coyote was bad enough, but now that Deke had peed on it…..
“S’okay. If it’s still here when we come back we can worry about it.”
Jon looked at her in confusion. “Uh, Billie - it’s dead. I don’t think it’s going anywhere!”
“City boy.” She muttered, shaking her head. “There’s other coyotes about, Jon. They might come take it. And before you say it, no, not because they want to bury it, or because it’s family or anything. Because it’s meat.”
“City boy? You mean I haven’t earned back my cowboy credentials?” He pouted sadly.
“Nope.”
“Damn.”
Laughing, comfortable together, they got into the pickup and Billie drove them to the feed store. As she parked, Jon saw a payphone outside of the store and looked at it thoughtfully, Billie seeing the direction of his gaze.
“Why don’t you call her?” She suggested.
“What? Who?” Jon looked at her, then got it. “You mean Dot? Dorothea?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh, that’s not what I was thinking. It’s just - well, even though I’m a big growed up boy, my mom worries, and Dot made me promise to call her every few days. Before I took off alone, Dot was reminding me, but I haven’t called home since the night before I met you.”
“Okay. So call your mom.” Billie smiled. “Let her know you’re safe and well.”
“Safe?” Jon snorted. “With you around?”
“Oh, smartass, huh?” She faked an angry scowl as she slid out of the truck. “You’ll enjoy the walk back from here, right?”
“Aw, shit. I’m sorry! Honest!” Jon smirked at her, though, scooting around the front of the pickup, pushing her against the door and pinning her there with his hips. “How can I make it up to you?”
“I’ll think of something.” Billie murmured, knowing they were fairly concealed where they stood and so letting Jon kiss her deeply.
When he lifted his mouth from hers, Jon groaned.
“That may have been a bad idea.”
“Why? Felt like a good one to me.”
“Yeah. But now I gotta try on jeans with a fuckin’ hard on.”
Sliding her hand up his thigh, Billie caressed his crotch, Jon groaning again as she squeezed lightly.
“Well, sadly I can’t do anything much about that here, babe.”
“Shit.” He brightened. “They have changing rooms, though, right?”
Billie giggled, her hand still absently rubbing at his crotch.
“Yeah, they do. With saloon-style half height doors. So if you had ideas of me getting on my knees……not happening!”
“Shit.” Jon repeated, leaning forward and resting his forehead on the side window of the truck. “Maybe we should come back later.”
“They close in an hour.” Billie murmured into his ear, relenting and lifting her hand off his dick. “Come with me.”
“That’s what I wanna fuckin’ do.” Jon grumbled as she pushed him off her, but after taking a second to make his state as unobtrusive as possible, he followed her toward the store.
“Phone?” Billie asked, spinning around to ask him, smirking as her eyes flicked over his groin.
“I’ll do that after.” Jon said, then realised what she was thinking and grinned. “No. I’ll do it now, and I’ll join you inside once I’m - uh - finished.”
“Okay.” She winked. “I’ll be there somewhere. Just you find whatever you’re looking for - jeans and stuff - and I’ll find you.”
“Cool.” Relieved that he could take a few minutes to hopefully cool off - hell, if anything was going to rid him of a hard on fast it was talking to his mother - Jon changed direction, going across to the payphone.
Picking up the handset, Jon dialled the necessary number to get through to an operator who’d take his credit card details. Once he’d done that, he punched the long series of numbers to get through to his mom’s house, drumming his fingertips on the side of the phone as it rang.
“Hello?” It was a young male voice, and Jon couldn’t help grinning.
“Hey dickhead. Is mom there?”
“Aw, fuck you Johnny!” Came the reply from his youngest brother, Matt, closely followed by a sharp reprimand from the redoubtable Carol Bongiovi, chiding the fifteen year old for his language.
“Bad boy, Matthew.” Jon teased, then dropped the smartass big brother routine. “How you doin’, anyway? How’s school?”
“I’m okay.” His voice was cagey as he continued. “School’s…..fine. I’ve started takin’ one of the art classes.”
Art? Jon thought. That just wasn’t Matt’s style. So far, the only member of the family who showed even a hint of an artistic nature was Jon - neither of his brothers could carry a tune, let alone sing worth a damn. Then he chuckled.
“Blonde or brunette?”
“Huh? Whaddya mean?”
Even from Kansas, Jon could tell Matt was blushing.
“I said: blonde or brunette? You suck at art, Matty, so there’s gotta be a girl involved.” He chuckled, needling his brother to get the answer. “At least, I hope it’s a girl!”
“Fuck you.” Matt muttered, his voice pitched low so their mom wouldn’t hear him cursing again. “Of course it’s a girl!”
“God, you’re easy.” Jon laughed. “So, back to my original question. Blonde or brunette?”
“I assume that’s your brother?”
Jon heard his mom’s voice, then Matt’s immediate reply.
“Yes, mom. Sorry. I’ll talk to you later, Jon.”
“Yeah, bye Matt.”
There was the soft sound of the phone being handed over, then Matt’s voice came back unexpectedly.
“Oh, and what you asked? Neither. Redhead. Here’s mom.”
“Hello, Johnny.” His mother’s voice, and a second after he’d done it Jon realised he’d suddenly straightened from his comfortably slouched position as soon as she spoke.
“Hi mom. How you doin’?”
“I’m doing….” There was a definite emphasis of the ‘g’ at the end of the word. “…fine, thank you. How are you? More to the point, where are you?”
“I’m great, mom. I’m in…….actually, I’m not sure of the name of the town, but I’m in Kansas.”
“Kansas?”
“Yeah. I kinda lucked out, actually. Got talking to a rancher one afternoon and I’ve been staying at the ranch house, helping out with a few chores and things to pay my way.”
“You’re hardly broke, John.” It was weird, but when his mother said it, Jon could hear the ‘h’ in his name. She’d never really taken to the new spelling he’d been using the last few years. “I’m quite sure you could pay your way properly. Or, better still, stay in a hotel and not some……some ranch house!”
And that pretty much summed up his mother’s opinion of anything non-city. Strange, really, considering she’d been a Marine and had doubtless stayed in far worse places than Jon had even seen - though there was that one hotel they’d stayed in when they played Monster Rock in England which didn’t have roaches simply because even the roaches had higher standards. Jon felt his anger starting to bristle at the implied insult to Billie, even though he’d carefully not mentioned that the ‘rancher’ was female. Female and young. And hot.
“It’s a very nice ranch house.” He said evenly. “You’d be surprised, mom. Hot and cold running water and everything. Anyway, I offered to help out - I was never asked for a thing. The invitation to stay was just a friendly gesture, as there aren’t any hotels around here, and it’s been nice, so I’ve stayed a few nights.”
“And when do you think you’ll be ‘staying a few nights’ in your own home?”
Jesus, Jon thought. She never quit. Never just happy to hear he was still alive and kicking, just always ‘when will you be home?’. He loved his mom, of course he did, but sometimes he could cheerfully throttle her for the overbearing way she was, and the way she treated him like he was still a kid. Flashing back to Dot saying that it’d never change, he silently prayed it would, because sooner or later he’d end up losing his temper with her and, since they shared a fiery temperament, it could get ugly.
“I dunno, mom.” Was all he said, though. “I’ll let you know when I’m moving on. I just wanted to call, let you know I’m okay.”
“Have you talked with Dorothea?”
“Nope. I just called you, mom.” He knew she’d like that. She wasn’t always keen on Dot - probably the thought of her son loving a woman who wasn’t her irked her - and knowing that he’d called her first would please her. “Have you?”
“I bumped into her the other day. She’s fine.”
“That’s good. Tell her I called, will you? Let her know I’m doing good.”
“Of course. If I see her, I’ll let her know.”
“Oh, mom!” He couldn’t help it. “I know you two don’t always see eye to eye, but……” Jon sighed. “Would you please call her, let her know I called and I’m fine?”
“Okay, Johnny.” Carol was slightly mollified by the knowledge that he wouldn’t be calling Dot, so she’d take vindictive pleasure in letting the younger woman know that he’d called her, his mother, but didn’t take the time to make a second call.
“Thanks, mom.” Duty done, Jon was now itching to get back to Billie. “I’ll call you in a few days, okay? Give my love to dad and Tony.”
“I will. You be careful, John. And…..” She hesitated, but said it anyway. “….don’t stay away too long. We all miss you.”
“I miss you guys, too, mom. Bye.”
“Bye, Johnny.”
Hanging up the phone, Jon sighed, resting his head against the wall for a moment then chuckling softly to himself. Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about that hard on any more. Still chuckling, he headed into the store.
“Just shutting him in, in case there’s any more coyotes about.” Billie explained as she returned. “He may have won the last fight, but he’s in no state for another.”
“D’you want me to move that dead coyote?” Jon asked, realising as he said it that he didn’t really want to touch it. Dead, no doubt flea-infested coyote was bad enough, but now that Deke had peed on it…..
“S’okay. If it’s still here when we come back we can worry about it.”
Jon looked at her in confusion. “Uh, Billie - it’s dead. I don’t think it’s going anywhere!”
“City boy.” She muttered, shaking her head. “There’s other coyotes about, Jon. They might come take it. And before you say it, no, not because they want to bury it, or because it’s family or anything. Because it’s meat.”
“City boy? You mean I haven’t earned back my cowboy credentials?” He pouted sadly.
“Nope.”
“Damn.”
Laughing, comfortable together, they got into the pickup and Billie drove them to the feed store. As she parked, Jon saw a payphone outside of the store and looked at it thoughtfully, Billie seeing the direction of his gaze.
“Why don’t you call her?” She suggested.
“What? Who?” Jon looked at her, then got it. “You mean Dot? Dorothea?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh, that’s not what I was thinking. It’s just - well, even though I’m a big growed up boy, my mom worries, and Dot made me promise to call her every few days. Before I took off alone, Dot was reminding me, but I haven’t called home since the night before I met you.”
“Okay. So call your mom.” Billie smiled. “Let her know you’re safe and well.”
“Safe?” Jon snorted. “With you around?”
“Oh, smartass, huh?” She faked an angry scowl as she slid out of the truck. “You’ll enjoy the walk back from here, right?”
“Aw, shit. I’m sorry! Honest!” Jon smirked at her, though, scooting around the front of the pickup, pushing her against the door and pinning her there with his hips. “How can I make it up to you?”
“I’ll think of something.” Billie murmured, knowing they were fairly concealed where they stood and so letting Jon kiss her deeply.
When he lifted his mouth from hers, Jon groaned.
“That may have been a bad idea.”
“Why? Felt like a good one to me.”
“Yeah. But now I gotta try on jeans with a fuckin’ hard on.”
Sliding her hand up his thigh, Billie caressed his crotch, Jon groaning again as she squeezed lightly.
“Well, sadly I can’t do anything much about that here, babe.”
“Shit.” He brightened. “They have changing rooms, though, right?”
Billie giggled, her hand still absently rubbing at his crotch.
“Yeah, they do. With saloon-style half height doors. So if you had ideas of me getting on my knees……not happening!”
“Shit.” Jon repeated, leaning forward and resting his forehead on the side window of the truck. “Maybe we should come back later.”
“They close in an hour.” Billie murmured into his ear, relenting and lifting her hand off his dick. “Come with me.”
“That’s what I wanna fuckin’ do.” Jon grumbled as she pushed him off her, but after taking a second to make his state as unobtrusive as possible, he followed her toward the store.
“Phone?” Billie asked, spinning around to ask him, smirking as her eyes flicked over his groin.
“I’ll do that after.” Jon said, then realised what she was thinking and grinned. “No. I’ll do it now, and I’ll join you inside once I’m - uh - finished.”
“Okay.” She winked. “I’ll be there somewhere. Just you find whatever you’re looking for - jeans and stuff - and I’ll find you.”
“Cool.” Relieved that he could take a few minutes to hopefully cool off - hell, if anything was going to rid him of a hard on fast it was talking to his mother - Jon changed direction, going across to the payphone.
Picking up the handset, Jon dialled the necessary number to get through to an operator who’d take his credit card details. Once he’d done that, he punched the long series of numbers to get through to his mom’s house, drumming his fingertips on the side of the phone as it rang.
“Hello?” It was a young male voice, and Jon couldn’t help grinning.
“Hey dickhead. Is mom there?”
“Aw, fuck you Johnny!” Came the reply from his youngest brother, Matt, closely followed by a sharp reprimand from the redoubtable Carol Bongiovi, chiding the fifteen year old for his language.
“Bad boy, Matthew.” Jon teased, then dropped the smartass big brother routine. “How you doin’, anyway? How’s school?”
“I’m okay.” His voice was cagey as he continued. “School’s…..fine. I’ve started takin’ one of the art classes.”
Art? Jon thought. That just wasn’t Matt’s style. So far, the only member of the family who showed even a hint of an artistic nature was Jon - neither of his brothers could carry a tune, let alone sing worth a damn. Then he chuckled.
“Blonde or brunette?”
“Huh? Whaddya mean?”
Even from Kansas, Jon could tell Matt was blushing.
“I said: blonde or brunette? You suck at art, Matty, so there’s gotta be a girl involved.” He chuckled, needling his brother to get the answer. “At least, I hope it’s a girl!”
“Fuck you.” Matt muttered, his voice pitched low so their mom wouldn’t hear him cursing again. “Of course it’s a girl!”
“God, you’re easy.” Jon laughed. “So, back to my original question. Blonde or brunette?”
“I assume that’s your brother?”
Jon heard his mom’s voice, then Matt’s immediate reply.
“Yes, mom. Sorry. I’ll talk to you later, Jon.”
“Yeah, bye Matt.”
There was the soft sound of the phone being handed over, then Matt’s voice came back unexpectedly.
“Oh, and what you asked? Neither. Redhead. Here’s mom.”
“Hello, Johnny.” His mother’s voice, and a second after he’d done it Jon realised he’d suddenly straightened from his comfortably slouched position as soon as she spoke.
“Hi mom. How you doin’?”
“I’m doing….” There was a definite emphasis of the ‘g’ at the end of the word. “…fine, thank you. How are you? More to the point, where are you?”
“I’m great, mom. I’m in…….actually, I’m not sure of the name of the town, but I’m in Kansas.”
“Kansas?”
“Yeah. I kinda lucked out, actually. Got talking to a rancher one afternoon and I’ve been staying at the ranch house, helping out with a few chores and things to pay my way.”
“You’re hardly broke, John.” It was weird, but when his mother said it, Jon could hear the ‘h’ in his name. She’d never really taken to the new spelling he’d been using the last few years. “I’m quite sure you could pay your way properly. Or, better still, stay in a hotel and not some……some ranch house!”
And that pretty much summed up his mother’s opinion of anything non-city. Strange, really, considering she’d been a Marine and had doubtless stayed in far worse places than Jon had even seen - though there was that one hotel they’d stayed in when they played Monster Rock in England which didn’t have roaches simply because even the roaches had higher standards. Jon felt his anger starting to bristle at the implied insult to Billie, even though he’d carefully not mentioned that the ‘rancher’ was female. Female and young. And hot.
“It’s a very nice ranch house.” He said evenly. “You’d be surprised, mom. Hot and cold running water and everything. Anyway, I offered to help out - I was never asked for a thing. The invitation to stay was just a friendly gesture, as there aren’t any hotels around here, and it’s been nice, so I’ve stayed a few nights.”
“And when do you think you’ll be ‘staying a few nights’ in your own home?”
Jesus, Jon thought. She never quit. Never just happy to hear he was still alive and kicking, just always ‘when will you be home?’. He loved his mom, of course he did, but sometimes he could cheerfully throttle her for the overbearing way she was, and the way she treated him like he was still a kid. Flashing back to Dot saying that it’d never change, he silently prayed it would, because sooner or later he’d end up losing his temper with her and, since they shared a fiery temperament, it could get ugly.
“I dunno, mom.” Was all he said, though. “I’ll let you know when I’m moving on. I just wanted to call, let you know I’m okay.”
“Have you talked with Dorothea?”
“Nope. I just called you, mom.” He knew she’d like that. She wasn’t always keen on Dot - probably the thought of her son loving a woman who wasn’t her irked her - and knowing that he’d called her first would please her. “Have you?”
“I bumped into her the other day. She’s fine.”
“That’s good. Tell her I called, will you? Let her know I’m doing good.”
“Of course. If I see her, I’ll let her know.”
“Oh, mom!” He couldn’t help it. “I know you two don’t always see eye to eye, but……” Jon sighed. “Would you please call her, let her know I called and I’m fine?”
“Okay, Johnny.” Carol was slightly mollified by the knowledge that he wouldn’t be calling Dot, so she’d take vindictive pleasure in letting the younger woman know that he’d called her, his mother, but didn’t take the time to make a second call.
“Thanks, mom.” Duty done, Jon was now itching to get back to Billie. “I’ll call you in a few days, okay? Give my love to dad and Tony.”
“I will. You be careful, John. And…..” She hesitated, but said it anyway. “….don’t stay away too long. We all miss you.”
“I miss you guys, too, mom. Bye.”
“Bye, Johnny.”
Hanging up the phone, Jon sighed, resting his head against the wall for a moment then chuckling softly to himself. Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about that hard on any more. Still chuckling, he headed into the store.
Chapter Twenty Six
Through in the back part of the hospital, Carrie gingerly cracked open a door and peered inside. Almost immediately there came a loud, deep woof, followed by a pathetic whimpering. When she pushed the door fully open and Deke saw Billie he went crazy, yelping and whining, pawing at the bars of the cage.
“Deke!” Billie exclaimed, pushing past her friend and going to the cage, pushing a hand through the bars so Deke could lick her fingers ecstatically.
Rolling her eyes, Carrie turned to her friend’s companion, trying to check him out without being too obvious about it. Unfortunately for her, Jon had ample experience of women’s reactions to him, and he gave her a broad grin, his eyes dancing with mischief. Seemed like the crooked little boy grin dynamited them even if they didn’t know who he was. Rescuing her from potential embarrassment, he took a step forward into the room, gesturing at the dog.
“I can’t believe he’s back to normal.” He said. “I didn’t think he was gonna make it.”
“He’s a tough li’l guy.” Carrie smiled. “And Mike’s a great vet. Not sure I’d ever call Deke ‘normal’ though…..”
“They do say dogs take after their owners.” Jon smirked, and Carrie faked an angry look.
“Hey! That’s my friend you’re talking about!” She grinned. “So I can vouch for the fact she’s anything but normal.”
“If you two are quite finished talking about me like I’m not here.” Billie interrupted without looking away from Deke. “Can I get him out of this cage?”
“Sure.” Carrie grinned at Jon again. There was something about him that was bugging her. Something in the wide smile and those insanely blue eyes. Something that told her she knew him, or should know who he was.
Her attention was distracted from the thoughts of who this guy was when Billie opened the cage, immediately landing on her ass when Deke shot out like a greyhound from it’s trap, bowling her over. He stood beside her, tail wagging madly as he licked her face.
“Okay, okay baby.” She gasped, sitting up. “S’okay, Deke. Calm down.”
He gave her another sloppy dog-style kiss, then looked suddenly past her to Jon, twisting his body ingratiatingly as he crossed the room.
“Hey buddy.” Jon grinned, dropping into a crouch.
Deke wagged his tail again, sniffing carefully at Jon’s hands then his face, licking Jon’s cheek gently as the two girls watched.
“Oh my God.” Billie breathed. “Jon - that’s the first time I’ve ever seen him ‘kiss’ someone other than me. Even Craig, he never…..”
Carrie looked at her in surprise. Sure, she knew that Deke’s affections were solely reserved for Billie, but her surprise was at hearing her mention the love of her life. The lost love of her life, and she was talking about him casually - to another man. Whatever was going on with Billie and this Jon, it could only be a good thing.
“Really?” Jon couldn’t help feeling pleased, somehow, that the dog obviously remembered he’d helped when he was hurt. “Guess he remembers last night, huh?” He lightly ruffled the thick black hair at the back of Deke’s neck.
“Yeah.” Billie let Carrie pull her to her feet. “Can we get him out of here, then?”
“Yep. Mike left some pills for him - just antibiotics. Just in case the coyote had anything nasty. Damned animals - one killed Mrs Benson’s little cat last week.”
“Well, this one won’t be doing any more damage.” Billie grinned. “Deke may have got beat up - but he killed the coyote.”
“Really?” Carrie leaned down to pat him. “Good for you Dekey.”
The four of them walked out to the front office, where Carrie produced a bundle of paperwork for Billie to sign off to get Deke released from Mike’s care. While she quickly read over the details before scrawling her signature onto the relevant lines.
“Don’t let me see you here again, Mister Kelsall.” She said sternly, and the dog wagged his tail as Bilie and Jon laughed.
“Goin’ home, Deke?” Billie asked, and he woofed once before heading for the door. “That’ll be yes, then. I’ll see you later, Carrie.”
“Yeah. We need to catch up. Real soon.” She replied, a definite emphasis on the last two words. “Nice to meet you….Jon.”
“You too, Carrie.” He winked. “Would’ve been nice if Billie here had introduced us properly, but, y’know…..”
“Yeah, I know.” Carrie giggled. “No manners. These damned cowgirls, whatchya gonna do with ‘em?”
Jon opened his mouth, then thought better of answering that one and just shrugged. “Takin’ the Fifth on that one, Carrie. Bye.”
“Yeah, bye.” She echoed, watching them leave before she murmured softly. “If you’re not doin’ it with her, you could do it with me, any day of the week.”
Deke was still too stiff from his wounds to jump up into the pickup, so Jon lifted him up into the front seat before climbing in beside him. They drove back to the ranch with Deke’s head on Billie’s thigh, then Jon lifted the dog out again. As they watched, he made a bee-line for the bloody carcass of the coyote, sniffing it thoroughly before cocking his leg over it disdainfully. That done, he trotted slowly to the house, easing under the porch and lying down contentedly.
Jon and Billie went indoors, Billie opening the fridge then looking at Jon.
“Coffee or beer?”
“Uh - coffee, actually.” He said, so she nodded, closing the fridge and starting a pot of coffee instead.
When it was ready, they took it out onto the porch, slouching down onto a pair of chairs. Billie sipped coffee, then something occurred to her.
“Aw hell!” She exclaimed, startling Jon.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was so pleased to get Deke back - we never went to the feed store!”
Jon laughed. “I’m just as bad - I forgot, too.”
“Shit.” Billie shook her head ruefully, then twisted her wrist, looking at her watch. “We can head back down after we finish our coffee.”
“Don’t put yourself out for me.” Jon protested, getting a dirty chuckle from Billie.
“I thought I’d already ‘put out’ for you?!”
“Yeah - you have - repeatedly.” Jon grinned. “But that’s not what I meant!”
“I know. I need to get some feed anyway, so it’s no biggie.” She grinned. “Anyway, I don’t need much of an excuse to shop. I’m sure I must need…….something.”
“Typical woman. Under the cowgirl there’s a shopping addict.”
“And what would you rather was under the cowgirl?”
Soon as she said it, Billie cursed inwardly. That wasn’t how she’d meant it, but she knew the kind of answer she could expect. Jon didn’t disappoint.
“Me.” He said simply.
“Deke!” Billie exclaimed, pushing past her friend and going to the cage, pushing a hand through the bars so Deke could lick her fingers ecstatically.
Rolling her eyes, Carrie turned to her friend’s companion, trying to check him out without being too obvious about it. Unfortunately for her, Jon had ample experience of women’s reactions to him, and he gave her a broad grin, his eyes dancing with mischief. Seemed like the crooked little boy grin dynamited them even if they didn’t know who he was. Rescuing her from potential embarrassment, he took a step forward into the room, gesturing at the dog.
“I can’t believe he’s back to normal.” He said. “I didn’t think he was gonna make it.”
“He’s a tough li’l guy.” Carrie smiled. “And Mike’s a great vet. Not sure I’d ever call Deke ‘normal’ though…..”
“They do say dogs take after their owners.” Jon smirked, and Carrie faked an angry look.
“Hey! That’s my friend you’re talking about!” She grinned. “So I can vouch for the fact she’s anything but normal.”
“If you two are quite finished talking about me like I’m not here.” Billie interrupted without looking away from Deke. “Can I get him out of this cage?”
“Sure.” Carrie grinned at Jon again. There was something about him that was bugging her. Something in the wide smile and those insanely blue eyes. Something that told her she knew him, or should know who he was.
Her attention was distracted from the thoughts of who this guy was when Billie opened the cage, immediately landing on her ass when Deke shot out like a greyhound from it’s trap, bowling her over. He stood beside her, tail wagging madly as he licked her face.
“Okay, okay baby.” She gasped, sitting up. “S’okay, Deke. Calm down.”
He gave her another sloppy dog-style kiss, then looked suddenly past her to Jon, twisting his body ingratiatingly as he crossed the room.
“Hey buddy.” Jon grinned, dropping into a crouch.
Deke wagged his tail again, sniffing carefully at Jon’s hands then his face, licking Jon’s cheek gently as the two girls watched.
“Oh my God.” Billie breathed. “Jon - that’s the first time I’ve ever seen him ‘kiss’ someone other than me. Even Craig, he never…..”
Carrie looked at her in surprise. Sure, she knew that Deke’s affections were solely reserved for Billie, but her surprise was at hearing her mention the love of her life. The lost love of her life, and she was talking about him casually - to another man. Whatever was going on with Billie and this Jon, it could only be a good thing.
“Really?” Jon couldn’t help feeling pleased, somehow, that the dog obviously remembered he’d helped when he was hurt. “Guess he remembers last night, huh?” He lightly ruffled the thick black hair at the back of Deke’s neck.
“Yeah.” Billie let Carrie pull her to her feet. “Can we get him out of here, then?”
“Yep. Mike left some pills for him - just antibiotics. Just in case the coyote had anything nasty. Damned animals - one killed Mrs Benson’s little cat last week.”
“Well, this one won’t be doing any more damage.” Billie grinned. “Deke may have got beat up - but he killed the coyote.”
“Really?” Carrie leaned down to pat him. “Good for you Dekey.”
The four of them walked out to the front office, where Carrie produced a bundle of paperwork for Billie to sign off to get Deke released from Mike’s care. While she quickly read over the details before scrawling her signature onto the relevant lines.
“Don’t let me see you here again, Mister Kelsall.” She said sternly, and the dog wagged his tail as Bilie and Jon laughed.
“Goin’ home, Deke?” Billie asked, and he woofed once before heading for the door. “That’ll be yes, then. I’ll see you later, Carrie.”
“Yeah. We need to catch up. Real soon.” She replied, a definite emphasis on the last two words. “Nice to meet you….Jon.”
“You too, Carrie.” He winked. “Would’ve been nice if Billie here had introduced us properly, but, y’know…..”
“Yeah, I know.” Carrie giggled. “No manners. These damned cowgirls, whatchya gonna do with ‘em?”
Jon opened his mouth, then thought better of answering that one and just shrugged. “Takin’ the Fifth on that one, Carrie. Bye.”
“Yeah, bye.” She echoed, watching them leave before she murmured softly. “If you’re not doin’ it with her, you could do it with me, any day of the week.”
Deke was still too stiff from his wounds to jump up into the pickup, so Jon lifted him up into the front seat before climbing in beside him. They drove back to the ranch with Deke’s head on Billie’s thigh, then Jon lifted the dog out again. As they watched, he made a bee-line for the bloody carcass of the coyote, sniffing it thoroughly before cocking his leg over it disdainfully. That done, he trotted slowly to the house, easing under the porch and lying down contentedly.
Jon and Billie went indoors, Billie opening the fridge then looking at Jon.
“Coffee or beer?”
“Uh - coffee, actually.” He said, so she nodded, closing the fridge and starting a pot of coffee instead.
When it was ready, they took it out onto the porch, slouching down onto a pair of chairs. Billie sipped coffee, then something occurred to her.
“Aw hell!” She exclaimed, startling Jon.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was so pleased to get Deke back - we never went to the feed store!”
Jon laughed. “I’m just as bad - I forgot, too.”
“Shit.” Billie shook her head ruefully, then twisted her wrist, looking at her watch. “We can head back down after we finish our coffee.”
“Don’t put yourself out for me.” Jon protested, getting a dirty chuckle from Billie.
“I thought I’d already ‘put out’ for you?!”
“Yeah - you have - repeatedly.” Jon grinned. “But that’s not what I meant!”
“I know. I need to get some feed anyway, so it’s no biggie.” She grinned. “Anyway, I don’t need much of an excuse to shop. I’m sure I must need…….something.”
“Typical woman. Under the cowgirl there’s a shopping addict.”
“And what would you rather was under the cowgirl?”
Soon as she said it, Billie cursed inwardly. That wasn’t how she’d meant it, but she knew the kind of answer she could expect. Jon didn’t disappoint.
“Me.” He said simply.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Chapter Twenty Five
For just a minute or two, Billie let herself sag into Jon’s embrace, allowing herself the luxury of tears, then she caught back control and snuffled the sobbing into silence. Jon gave her another comforting squeeze before pulling his head back so he could look at her.
“Okay?” He asked softly, and she nodded.
“Uh-huh. Thanks, Jon. For everything. For helping Deke - and me - and for the hug.”
“You’re welcome. I’m just glad I heard him whimpering, or he could’ve been there all night.”
They eased themselves apart, then Jon looked at his hands. From the amount of blood, you’d have thought he’d been slaughtering cattle, and he winced as his jeans tried to unstick themselves from the blood on his thighs, tugging at hairs.
“I think I need to go clean up.” He said. “I’m a bit…..”
As Jon held up his hands, Billie nodded understandingly.
“You know where the shower is.” She looked down, seeing the dark patches on his jeans where the blood had soaked into the denim. “If you want to leave your jeans, I’ll soak them in cold water to get that blood out.”
“Cold water?”
“Uh - yeah. Cold water gets blood out better than hot.”
“Never knew that.” Jon was surprised, then he smiled slightly. “Well, my jeans were badly in need of cleaning anyway.”
“Just leave them here.” Billie pretended to cover her eyes modestly, the worry over Deke fading. She knew Mike well enough to know if he said the dog would be okay, then it was a near certainty. “I won’t look.”
“Looking is fine.” Jon smirked. “Just no touching. Actually, no, touching is just fine, too.”
“Will you just go shower?!” She smiled, glancing at the clock and wincing at the ungodly early hour. “I’m going to make some coffee. No way I’ll get back to sleep now.”
“You may want to shower, too, Billie. You’re almost as bloody as I am.”
“You go first. I can wait.”
So Jon stripped off jeans and t shirt, heading naked to the bathroom, trying - and failing - not to wince in pain as the jeans unstuck from his legs. Billie scooped up his clothes and took them into the kitchen, filling the deep sink with cold water and dropping the jeans in, making sure they were well soaked before turning her attention to coffee. While it perked, she took water and a cloth through to the living room, cleaning up the drying blood, then following it backward, cleaning away the trail Deke had left after he’d pushed in through the doggy door in the kitchen.
The pot was half-full by the time Jon returned, a towel around his waist since his jeans were currently residing in Billie’s sink. She poured them each a mug of coffee, then blushed when her stomach rumbled loudly.
“Hungry?” Jon smirked.
“Mmmmm. We never did eat dinner last night, did we? Popcorn was all we had.”
“All we wanted though, at the time.”
“Mm-hm.” Billie sipped coffee. “I’ll hit the shower then make us something to eat. Unless you’re going back to sleep?”
“Nah. I’m wide awake now. Don’t s’pose you have a spare robe or anything?”
“Sure.” Billie smirked. “Black satin or pink and fluffy?”
“Shit.” Jon muttered. “S’fine. I’ll make do with the towel.”
“I’m kidding. There should be a white one in the bathroom cupboard.”
She fetched it for him, and Jon unwound the towel from his waist, pulling the robe on instead. Billie showered quickly, carefully rinsing the bath to get rid of all the blood, then she went back to the kitchen wearing the pink fluffy robe she’d offered Jon. A quick search of cupboards and fridge, then she settled for making French toast, and they sat at the kitchen table to share it.
“Hey.” Jon said suddenly as a memory - an image - hit him. “Can I ask something?”
“Sure. If I don’t like the question I won’t answer!”
“Fair enough. I just……you have a scar on your back. Is that from the car wreck?”
“Uh-huh.” Reflexively, Billie reached back to touch where she knew it was. “I got a piece of car in my back - they had to cut it out.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. I don’t think I ever mentioned it before, but Deke was in the car, too. He was only a few months old, and he wasn’t even hurt.” She blushed slightly. “Guess that’s why I took it so hard, seeing him hurt.”
“Don’t apologise for loving your dog!” Jon said, almost angrily. “Things you’ve been through, Billie, I’d be more worried if you didn’t take it badly.”
That little head-tilt again, then she smiled. “Thanks.” She said faintly.
The food was finished, and they refilled the coffee mugs and went to the living room. There was a fractional moment of awkwardness as they stopped at the couch, which was still made up into Jon’s bed, then he dropped onto the mattress and sat with his back against the couch-back, beckoning to Billie.
“Siddown.”
She smiled, sitting on the bed, half facing him, and they talked while they finished their coffee. Reaching to lay her empty mug on the low table, Billie laid her head back against the couch, closing her eyes, just for a moment. Jon chuckled, a few minutes later, when he spoke and got no response from a sleeping Billie.
“Oh, sure, babe.” He murmured. “You’re wide awake!”
He was just as bad, though, laying his head back and falling just as quickly asleep, and when the sunlight woke them Billie found she was lying on her side, flat on the bed, with Jon snugly behind her, his arm across her waist. When she tried to move away, his arm tightened, and she felt his breath on the back of her neck when he spoke.
“S’okay, Billie. It’s just me.” He chuckled. “So much for us being wide awake, huh?”
“Yeah.” Billie rubbed her palm over his hand. “Good morning.”
“G’mornin’.”
Separating themselves, they got themselves showered and dressed with little conversation, then Billie headed outside to feed Drummer and Copper while Jon announced he’d make breakfast. After asking him to, please, not burn down her house, and having her ass soundly slapped, Billie headed out to the barn. When she came back in, ten minutes later, she was pale but grinning.
“What’s wrong?” Jon asked, turning from buttering toast.
“Nothing.” She grinned again. “There’s a dead coyote in the yard.”
“Really?!”
“Yep. Guess Deke did win the fight after all.”
“Told you he was a tough guy.” Jon grinned, bringing toast to the table. “Food.”
He poured more coffee and sat at the table, watching Billie as she nibbled toast before smirking at him.
“Glad to see you didn’t stretch your culinary skills here.” Seeing him pout theatrically, she continued. “But it’s very, very good toast!”
“Aw, shut up and eat.” Jon grinned. “I’m a ro……uh, a singer, not a chef!”
After they’d eaten, Jon put away the bed while Billie checked his jeans, pulling them from the sink and letting the pink-tinged water drain away. The denim wasn’t stained any more, so she wrung them as best she could before dumping them into a basin and carrying it out to a utility room that Jon had never noticed. She threw them into the washer then went to her bedroom and got a few things from the laundry basket. Passing through the living room, she paused.
“D’you have any other clothes that need to be washed?”
“Yeah.” Jon grinned. “More jeans and some shirts. You offering to do my laundry?”
“I’m offering to throw them in the washer with some other stuff, yeah.” Billie grinned at his typically male, thank-God-there’s-a-woman-to-do-this expression. “But if you’re going to be a smartass about it you can do your own.”
“No! No smartass. Promise.” He almost begged, opening the black saddlebag and pulling out dusty clothes. “Pretty please?”
Billie rolled her eyes, taking the clothes. “Fine.”
Looking at what he’d handed her - a pair of jeans and three shirts that ranged from a full t shirt to a barely-there ripped tank - Billie looked at Jon speculatively.
“Is this all you have with you?”
“Yeah.” He frowned. “Why?”
“Well, if these are your only other jeans, unless you were planning on wandering around in public wearing that robe…..”
Jon laughed. He hadn’t even thought of that. Good thing one of them had a brain.
“Naw.” He shook his head, grinning. “I was more thinking of going with that black satin you offered!”
Billie snorted uncontrollably, tugging the jeans from the bottom of the bundle and throwing them at his head.
“I don’t think so! This is a small town, darlin’ - folks aren’t ready for that! I can get you another shirt, and I’ll throw those jeans in the washer once the first pair are wearable.”
“Okay. Thanks Billie.” Jon paused. “If there’s a store in town, I may just buy another pair. Couldn’t hurt.”
“Well, we don’t have a department store - anything major, we go to Great Bend - but we have a feedstore-cum-tack store that sells jeans and stuff.”
Jon just nodded, and Billie left him, heading back through to the utility room. She set the washer going, then they got themselves out of the house and into the pickup. Their unscheduled nap hadn’t broken until well after ten o’clock, so it was now late enough that they could go get Deke, and Billie drove at a more sedate pace this time, stopping the truck in the parking lot and switching off.
They went into the hospital building, finding just Carrie, Mike’s animal nurse, at the desk. She did a swift double-take on Jon, but he was pretty sure it was just because Billie had brought a guy with her, since there was no flash of recognition. Whatever it was, the girl grinned at Billie.
“Thank God you’re here!” She said. “That damned dog of yours keeps trying to make me play with him!”
“He does?” Billie’s face lit up. “He’s okay?”
“Oh, he’s fine. Battered and sore. Maybe a bit dopey, but fine.” Carrie opened the door to the treatment area. “Come get him.”
Jon lagged slightly behind, and Carrie took the opportunity to grab Billie’s arm.
“Who the hell is he?” She whispered in Billie’s ear. The two were friends, so it wasn’t as strange a question as it seemed.
“Just a guy.” Billie shrugged. “He’s been staying with me for a few days. He’s travelling around on his bike and I offered a bed for a few nights.”
“I bet you did.” Carrie muttered, flicking a glance back at Jon. “Yours, I assume?”
“What?” Billie blushed. “No! The fold-out in the living room, Carrie! What d’you think I am?”
“Crazy if you’re not screwing him.” The other girl mumbled, but then Jon caught up to them and she stopped grilling Billie.
“Okay?” He asked softly, and she nodded.
“Uh-huh. Thanks, Jon. For everything. For helping Deke - and me - and for the hug.”
“You’re welcome. I’m just glad I heard him whimpering, or he could’ve been there all night.”
They eased themselves apart, then Jon looked at his hands. From the amount of blood, you’d have thought he’d been slaughtering cattle, and he winced as his jeans tried to unstick themselves from the blood on his thighs, tugging at hairs.
“I think I need to go clean up.” He said. “I’m a bit…..”
As Jon held up his hands, Billie nodded understandingly.
“You know where the shower is.” She looked down, seeing the dark patches on his jeans where the blood had soaked into the denim. “If you want to leave your jeans, I’ll soak them in cold water to get that blood out.”
“Cold water?”
“Uh - yeah. Cold water gets blood out better than hot.”
“Never knew that.” Jon was surprised, then he smiled slightly. “Well, my jeans were badly in need of cleaning anyway.”
“Just leave them here.” Billie pretended to cover her eyes modestly, the worry over Deke fading. She knew Mike well enough to know if he said the dog would be okay, then it was a near certainty. “I won’t look.”
“Looking is fine.” Jon smirked. “Just no touching. Actually, no, touching is just fine, too.”
“Will you just go shower?!” She smiled, glancing at the clock and wincing at the ungodly early hour. “I’m going to make some coffee. No way I’ll get back to sleep now.”
“You may want to shower, too, Billie. You’re almost as bloody as I am.”
“You go first. I can wait.”
So Jon stripped off jeans and t shirt, heading naked to the bathroom, trying - and failing - not to wince in pain as the jeans unstuck from his legs. Billie scooped up his clothes and took them into the kitchen, filling the deep sink with cold water and dropping the jeans in, making sure they were well soaked before turning her attention to coffee. While it perked, she took water and a cloth through to the living room, cleaning up the drying blood, then following it backward, cleaning away the trail Deke had left after he’d pushed in through the doggy door in the kitchen.
The pot was half-full by the time Jon returned, a towel around his waist since his jeans were currently residing in Billie’s sink. She poured them each a mug of coffee, then blushed when her stomach rumbled loudly.
“Hungry?” Jon smirked.
“Mmmmm. We never did eat dinner last night, did we? Popcorn was all we had.”
“All we wanted though, at the time.”
“Mm-hm.” Billie sipped coffee. “I’ll hit the shower then make us something to eat. Unless you’re going back to sleep?”
“Nah. I’m wide awake now. Don’t s’pose you have a spare robe or anything?”
“Sure.” Billie smirked. “Black satin or pink and fluffy?”
“Shit.” Jon muttered. “S’fine. I’ll make do with the towel.”
“I’m kidding. There should be a white one in the bathroom cupboard.”
She fetched it for him, and Jon unwound the towel from his waist, pulling the robe on instead. Billie showered quickly, carefully rinsing the bath to get rid of all the blood, then she went back to the kitchen wearing the pink fluffy robe she’d offered Jon. A quick search of cupboards and fridge, then she settled for making French toast, and they sat at the kitchen table to share it.
“Hey.” Jon said suddenly as a memory - an image - hit him. “Can I ask something?”
“Sure. If I don’t like the question I won’t answer!”
“Fair enough. I just……you have a scar on your back. Is that from the car wreck?”
“Uh-huh.” Reflexively, Billie reached back to touch where she knew it was. “I got a piece of car in my back - they had to cut it out.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. I don’t think I ever mentioned it before, but Deke was in the car, too. He was only a few months old, and he wasn’t even hurt.” She blushed slightly. “Guess that’s why I took it so hard, seeing him hurt.”
“Don’t apologise for loving your dog!” Jon said, almost angrily. “Things you’ve been through, Billie, I’d be more worried if you didn’t take it badly.”
That little head-tilt again, then she smiled. “Thanks.” She said faintly.
The food was finished, and they refilled the coffee mugs and went to the living room. There was a fractional moment of awkwardness as they stopped at the couch, which was still made up into Jon’s bed, then he dropped onto the mattress and sat with his back against the couch-back, beckoning to Billie.
“Siddown.”
She smiled, sitting on the bed, half facing him, and they talked while they finished their coffee. Reaching to lay her empty mug on the low table, Billie laid her head back against the couch, closing her eyes, just for a moment. Jon chuckled, a few minutes later, when he spoke and got no response from a sleeping Billie.
“Oh, sure, babe.” He murmured. “You’re wide awake!”
He was just as bad, though, laying his head back and falling just as quickly asleep, and when the sunlight woke them Billie found she was lying on her side, flat on the bed, with Jon snugly behind her, his arm across her waist. When she tried to move away, his arm tightened, and she felt his breath on the back of her neck when he spoke.
“S’okay, Billie. It’s just me.” He chuckled. “So much for us being wide awake, huh?”
“Yeah.” Billie rubbed her palm over his hand. “Good morning.”
“G’mornin’.”
Separating themselves, they got themselves showered and dressed with little conversation, then Billie headed outside to feed Drummer and Copper while Jon announced he’d make breakfast. After asking him to, please, not burn down her house, and having her ass soundly slapped, Billie headed out to the barn. When she came back in, ten minutes later, she was pale but grinning.
“What’s wrong?” Jon asked, turning from buttering toast.
“Nothing.” She grinned again. “There’s a dead coyote in the yard.”
“Really?!”
“Yep. Guess Deke did win the fight after all.”
“Told you he was a tough guy.” Jon grinned, bringing toast to the table. “Food.”
He poured more coffee and sat at the table, watching Billie as she nibbled toast before smirking at him.
“Glad to see you didn’t stretch your culinary skills here.” Seeing him pout theatrically, she continued. “But it’s very, very good toast!”
“Aw, shut up and eat.” Jon grinned. “I’m a ro……uh, a singer, not a chef!”
After they’d eaten, Jon put away the bed while Billie checked his jeans, pulling them from the sink and letting the pink-tinged water drain away. The denim wasn’t stained any more, so she wrung them as best she could before dumping them into a basin and carrying it out to a utility room that Jon had never noticed. She threw them into the washer then went to her bedroom and got a few things from the laundry basket. Passing through the living room, she paused.
“D’you have any other clothes that need to be washed?”
“Yeah.” Jon grinned. “More jeans and some shirts. You offering to do my laundry?”
“I’m offering to throw them in the washer with some other stuff, yeah.” Billie grinned at his typically male, thank-God-there’s-a-woman-to-do-this expression. “But if you’re going to be a smartass about it you can do your own.”
“No! No smartass. Promise.” He almost begged, opening the black saddlebag and pulling out dusty clothes. “Pretty please?”
Billie rolled her eyes, taking the clothes. “Fine.”
Looking at what he’d handed her - a pair of jeans and three shirts that ranged from a full t shirt to a barely-there ripped tank - Billie looked at Jon speculatively.
“Is this all you have with you?”
“Yeah.” He frowned. “Why?”
“Well, if these are your only other jeans, unless you were planning on wandering around in public wearing that robe…..”
Jon laughed. He hadn’t even thought of that. Good thing one of them had a brain.
“Naw.” He shook his head, grinning. “I was more thinking of going with that black satin you offered!”
Billie snorted uncontrollably, tugging the jeans from the bottom of the bundle and throwing them at his head.
“I don’t think so! This is a small town, darlin’ - folks aren’t ready for that! I can get you another shirt, and I’ll throw those jeans in the washer once the first pair are wearable.”
“Okay. Thanks Billie.” Jon paused. “If there’s a store in town, I may just buy another pair. Couldn’t hurt.”
“Well, we don’t have a department store - anything major, we go to Great Bend - but we have a feedstore-cum-tack store that sells jeans and stuff.”
Jon just nodded, and Billie left him, heading back through to the utility room. She set the washer going, then they got themselves out of the house and into the pickup. Their unscheduled nap hadn’t broken until well after ten o’clock, so it was now late enough that they could go get Deke, and Billie drove at a more sedate pace this time, stopping the truck in the parking lot and switching off.
They went into the hospital building, finding just Carrie, Mike’s animal nurse, at the desk. She did a swift double-take on Jon, but he was pretty sure it was just because Billie had brought a guy with her, since there was no flash of recognition. Whatever it was, the girl grinned at Billie.
“Thank God you’re here!” She said. “That damned dog of yours keeps trying to make me play with him!”
“He does?” Billie’s face lit up. “He’s okay?”
“Oh, he’s fine. Battered and sore. Maybe a bit dopey, but fine.” Carrie opened the door to the treatment area. “Come get him.”
Jon lagged slightly behind, and Carrie took the opportunity to grab Billie’s arm.
“Who the hell is he?” She whispered in Billie’s ear. The two were friends, so it wasn’t as strange a question as it seemed.
“Just a guy.” Billie shrugged. “He’s been staying with me for a few days. He’s travelling around on his bike and I offered a bed for a few nights.”
“I bet you did.” Carrie muttered, flicking a glance back at Jon. “Yours, I assume?”
“What?” Billie blushed. “No! The fold-out in the living room, Carrie! What d’you think I am?”
“Crazy if you’re not screwing him.” The other girl mumbled, but then Jon caught up to them and she stopped grilling Billie.
Chapter Twenty Four
Pressing a handful of blanket against the worst wound, Jon didn’t know what to do.
“Jesus.” He muttered again, then raised his voice to a slightly panicked yell. “Billie!”
There was no response, and Jon laid a hand on Deke’s head, the dog looking at him helplessly.
“Billie!” Jon yelled at the top of his lungs this time. “Billie, I need you out here, darlin’!”
This time he heard a muffled voice, then the thud of feet hitting the floor before her door opened.
“Jon?” Billie called as she came along the hallway. “What’s……oh, God! Deke!”
Even the state he was in, Deke tilted his head to Billie, thumping his tail just once in greeting.
“I think he’s been in a fight.” Jon said, slightly stating the obvious, still holding pressure on the worst part.
“No dogs around here would take him on.” Billie said, lifting the edge of the blanket to peer underneath. “Fucking coyote. Must’ve been.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Jon looked at her helplessly. “I’m just keeping pressure on this to try to stop the bleeding.”
Billie looked at him - kneeling naked on the floor, blood on his hands and daubing his bare thighs.
“Keep the pressure on.” She asked, getting to her feet. “I’m going to throw some clothes on and take him down to the vet.”
“It’s the middle of the night, Billie.” He protested. “They won’t be open.”
“They will when I get there.” Billie said firmly. “Mike’s a friend of mine - he lives at the animal hospital. He’ll open up for me.”
Billie ran down the hallway, yanking on jeans and a sweatshirt then going back to where Jon still knelt with Deke. He had one hand on the dog’s head, stroking gently, whispering to him, but he looked up when Billie appeared.
“Hold the blanket on him.” Jon said. “I’ll get dressed.”
“You don’t need to come.”
“Yes, I do. You can’t drive and keep pressure on him.” He looked at her sadly. “Anyway, I want to come.”
So they switched positions, Billie kneeling by her dog as Jon pulled on jeans, boots and shirt, then between them they got Deke wrapped in the bloodied blanket and Jon carried him carefully from the house.
The Harley was tucked into the garage beside the pickup, so it took a little bit of shimmying on Jon’s part to get into the front seat with Deke in his arms, but he managed, and Billie ran around the hood to the driver’s side.
“C’mon baby.” She muttered, turning the key that was already in the ignition, breathing a sigh of relief when the starter fired at the first touch.
Every bump in the gravel road drew a whimper from Deke, and Jon saw Billie wince in sympathy with his pain. He gentled the dog as best he could, stroking the dirty head as he kept as much pressure on the wounds as he could. Even so, he wasn’t sure it was enough - the dog’s eyes were dimming with the pain and blood loss, and Jon wasn’t convinced he’d make it to the vet’s office.
Luckily, it wasn’t far, and once she hit the main road and the smooth asphalt, Billie put her foot to the boards, the pickup surprisingly fast, given it’s battered exterior. Minutes after turning onto the blacktop, she turned into a parking lot and stopped at the door of a one-storey building.
“Can you wait here with him?” She asked Jon, already opening her door. “I need to go wake Mike.”
“Hurry.” Jon said softly. “He’s bad, Billie.”
“I know.” She bit off the sob and slid from the pickup, running over to the house.
Jon watched her thumping a fist on the door, then after a few minutes a sleep-tousled man in a dressing gown appeared. Billie gave a fast explanation, and the guy nodded once, pointing to the darkened building next door and handing something to Billie. As he vanished back into the house, Billie ran to the pickup and opened the passenger door.
“Mike said to just bring him in - he’ll be over in a second.” She raised the key in her hand. “Can you bring him? I’ll open up.”
“Sure, Billie.” Jon slipped from the seat, trying not to jar Deke too badly, then he followed Billie into the animal hospital.
She led him to an operating room, then as she flicked on lights there was a voice behind them.
“You said a coyote got him?”
Jon turned, still holding Deke, and the guy gave him a swift glance as Billie answered.
“I think so. Not many dogs around who’d take Deke on, so I think it was a coyote. He’s lost a lot of blood, and…..”
Tears were welling in her eyes. Mike knew what Jon didn’t, that Deke had been the one other survivor of the car wreck that took Billie’s parents, barely more than a puppy and somehow completely uninjured.
“Put him on the table.” The guy said, and Jon carefully laid down his burden. “I’m Mike, by the way.” He said, looking at Jon again.
“God. Sorry.” Billie blurted. “Mike - this is Jon - he’s been staying with me for a few days. Jon - Mike - Michael - Hatfield.”
“Good to meet you.” Jon said softly.
“Likewise.” Mike nodded, then turned his attention back to Deke. “How we doin’, buddy?”
Quickly, efficiently, he shot Deke up with anesthetic, and with both Jon and Billie assisting he cleaned the deep wounds, keeping one eye always on Deke’s breathing and pulse. The wound that Jon had tried to hard to keep from bleeding restarted, but Mike quickly repaired the torn vein that was bleeding so badly, and then he looked at Billie reassuringly.
“He’ll be fine, Billie.” He told her. “He’s a bit of a mess, but I think your….friend……here may have saved his life by slowing the bleeding.”
“He’ll be okay?” Billie said softly. “You promise?”
“C’mon Billie.” It was Jon who spoke, laying his bloody hand over hers, squeezing lightly. “He’s a tough guy…..he’ll be fine.”
“He’ll be good as new.” Mike promised. “Just with a few interesting scars to show for it - and maybe a new respect for coyotes.”
“I doubt that.” Billie muttered, stroking Deke’s head.
Mike swiftly stitched the torn skin together, leaving Deke looking like a strange patchwork toy, with shaved patches and rows of stitches, then he injected painkillers and antibiotics before easing the oxygen mask away.
“He just needs to sleep it off now.” He said. “You’ll need to leave him here overnight, Billie. Come get him in the morning.”
“I can’t stay with him?”
“Billie………..you know there’s no place for you to stay here. Go home. Trust me - he’ll be fine - when you come back, he’ll be on his feet, wagging his tail at you. You can’t do anything for him.”
“Okay.” She whispered, stroking his head again.
She followed Mike to the back room where he laid Deke gently into a cage, then she let him take her away from the dog. Jon had waited in the treatment room, and Mike gave him a look from behind Billie.
“Maybe you should let Jon drive back.” Mike suggested, and Billie looked from one guy to the other and shrugged.
“Okay. What time can I come get Deke?”
“Leave it until lunchtime, Billie. I have surgery in the morning.” He looked at the clock. “Besides, it’s almost three in the morning - Carrie will be here in four hours to see to them all.”
Billie and Jon left, climbing into the pickup and Jon following Billie’s directions back to the ranch. When they got there, she looked at the drying blood on the floor, then made the mistake of looking at Jon, and at the compassion on his face her tears started to fall.
“Aw, Billie.” He reached to pull her into his arms, holding her tightly. “He’ll be okay, darlin’.”
“Jesus.” He muttered again, then raised his voice to a slightly panicked yell. “Billie!”
There was no response, and Jon laid a hand on Deke’s head, the dog looking at him helplessly.
“Billie!” Jon yelled at the top of his lungs this time. “Billie, I need you out here, darlin’!”
This time he heard a muffled voice, then the thud of feet hitting the floor before her door opened.
“Jon?” Billie called as she came along the hallway. “What’s……oh, God! Deke!”
Even the state he was in, Deke tilted his head to Billie, thumping his tail just once in greeting.
“I think he’s been in a fight.” Jon said, slightly stating the obvious, still holding pressure on the worst part.
“No dogs around here would take him on.” Billie said, lifting the edge of the blanket to peer underneath. “Fucking coyote. Must’ve been.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Jon looked at her helplessly. “I’m just keeping pressure on this to try to stop the bleeding.”
Billie looked at him - kneeling naked on the floor, blood on his hands and daubing his bare thighs.
“Keep the pressure on.” She asked, getting to her feet. “I’m going to throw some clothes on and take him down to the vet.”
“It’s the middle of the night, Billie.” He protested. “They won’t be open.”
“They will when I get there.” Billie said firmly. “Mike’s a friend of mine - he lives at the animal hospital. He’ll open up for me.”
Billie ran down the hallway, yanking on jeans and a sweatshirt then going back to where Jon still knelt with Deke. He had one hand on the dog’s head, stroking gently, whispering to him, but he looked up when Billie appeared.
“Hold the blanket on him.” Jon said. “I’ll get dressed.”
“You don’t need to come.”
“Yes, I do. You can’t drive and keep pressure on him.” He looked at her sadly. “Anyway, I want to come.”
So they switched positions, Billie kneeling by her dog as Jon pulled on jeans, boots and shirt, then between them they got Deke wrapped in the bloodied blanket and Jon carried him carefully from the house.
The Harley was tucked into the garage beside the pickup, so it took a little bit of shimmying on Jon’s part to get into the front seat with Deke in his arms, but he managed, and Billie ran around the hood to the driver’s side.
“C’mon baby.” She muttered, turning the key that was already in the ignition, breathing a sigh of relief when the starter fired at the first touch.
Every bump in the gravel road drew a whimper from Deke, and Jon saw Billie wince in sympathy with his pain. He gentled the dog as best he could, stroking the dirty head as he kept as much pressure on the wounds as he could. Even so, he wasn’t sure it was enough - the dog’s eyes were dimming with the pain and blood loss, and Jon wasn’t convinced he’d make it to the vet’s office.
Luckily, it wasn’t far, and once she hit the main road and the smooth asphalt, Billie put her foot to the boards, the pickup surprisingly fast, given it’s battered exterior. Minutes after turning onto the blacktop, she turned into a parking lot and stopped at the door of a one-storey building.
“Can you wait here with him?” She asked Jon, already opening her door. “I need to go wake Mike.”
“Hurry.” Jon said softly. “He’s bad, Billie.”
“I know.” She bit off the sob and slid from the pickup, running over to the house.
Jon watched her thumping a fist on the door, then after a few minutes a sleep-tousled man in a dressing gown appeared. Billie gave a fast explanation, and the guy nodded once, pointing to the darkened building next door and handing something to Billie. As he vanished back into the house, Billie ran to the pickup and opened the passenger door.
“Mike said to just bring him in - he’ll be over in a second.” She raised the key in her hand. “Can you bring him? I’ll open up.”
“Sure, Billie.” Jon slipped from the seat, trying not to jar Deke too badly, then he followed Billie into the animal hospital.
She led him to an operating room, then as she flicked on lights there was a voice behind them.
“You said a coyote got him?”
Jon turned, still holding Deke, and the guy gave him a swift glance as Billie answered.
“I think so. Not many dogs around who’d take Deke on, so I think it was a coyote. He’s lost a lot of blood, and…..”
Tears were welling in her eyes. Mike knew what Jon didn’t, that Deke had been the one other survivor of the car wreck that took Billie’s parents, barely more than a puppy and somehow completely uninjured.
“Put him on the table.” The guy said, and Jon carefully laid down his burden. “I’m Mike, by the way.” He said, looking at Jon again.
“God. Sorry.” Billie blurted. “Mike - this is Jon - he’s been staying with me for a few days. Jon - Mike - Michael - Hatfield.”
“Good to meet you.” Jon said softly.
“Likewise.” Mike nodded, then turned his attention back to Deke. “How we doin’, buddy?”
Quickly, efficiently, he shot Deke up with anesthetic, and with both Jon and Billie assisting he cleaned the deep wounds, keeping one eye always on Deke’s breathing and pulse. The wound that Jon had tried to hard to keep from bleeding restarted, but Mike quickly repaired the torn vein that was bleeding so badly, and then he looked at Billie reassuringly.
“He’ll be fine, Billie.” He told her. “He’s a bit of a mess, but I think your….friend……here may have saved his life by slowing the bleeding.”
“He’ll be okay?” Billie said softly. “You promise?”
“C’mon Billie.” It was Jon who spoke, laying his bloody hand over hers, squeezing lightly. “He’s a tough guy…..he’ll be fine.”
“He’ll be good as new.” Mike promised. “Just with a few interesting scars to show for it - and maybe a new respect for coyotes.”
“I doubt that.” Billie muttered, stroking Deke’s head.
Mike swiftly stitched the torn skin together, leaving Deke looking like a strange patchwork toy, with shaved patches and rows of stitches, then he injected painkillers and antibiotics before easing the oxygen mask away.
“He just needs to sleep it off now.” He said. “You’ll need to leave him here overnight, Billie. Come get him in the morning.”
“I can’t stay with him?”
“Billie………..you know there’s no place for you to stay here. Go home. Trust me - he’ll be fine - when you come back, he’ll be on his feet, wagging his tail at you. You can’t do anything for him.”
“Okay.” She whispered, stroking his head again.
She followed Mike to the back room where he laid Deke gently into a cage, then she let him take her away from the dog. Jon had waited in the treatment room, and Mike gave him a look from behind Billie.
“Maybe you should let Jon drive back.” Mike suggested, and Billie looked from one guy to the other and shrugged.
“Okay. What time can I come get Deke?”
“Leave it until lunchtime, Billie. I have surgery in the morning.” He looked at the clock. “Besides, it’s almost three in the morning - Carrie will be here in four hours to see to them all.”
Billie and Jon left, climbing into the pickup and Jon following Billie’s directions back to the ranch. When they got there, she looked at the drying blood on the floor, then made the mistake of looking at Jon, and at the compassion on his face her tears started to fall.
“Aw, Billie.” He reached to pull her into his arms, holding her tightly. “He’ll be okay, darlin’.”
Chapter Twenty Three
“What’s wrong?” Billie looked at him blankly, his voice not exactly angry but just….well, weird.
“That shirt.” Jon pouted. “I can’t believe you’re wearing that fucking thing.”
“Huh?” She was lost, gripping the hem of the shirt and pulling it out to look down at the design. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Darlin’ - I guess I never mentioned it, but I’m from New Jersey, and, well, that name on your shirt……”
“Yeeeah?”
Jon sighed. “Let’s just say it’s a dirty word around me.”
“Cowboys?” Billie frowned, tilting her head curiously, a smile starting to play around her lips as she understood. “What? You don’t like Dallas?”
“Hell no. Dallas sucks. Plus they play a dirty game. If you tell me you’re a Cowboys fan I may have to leave right now.”
“I’m not an anybody fan.” She replied, still tugging at the shirt. “I picked it up when I was in Dallas years ago - I like to buy shirts from places I’ve been.”
“But the Cowboys?” He pouted again, but the smile was starting.
“I’m sorry. D’you want me to take it off?”
Jon was beginning to grin again, walking slowly toward her.
“That depends. Do you like that shirt?”
“It’s a shirt. I wear it to bed.” Billie shrugged, and now Jon was in front of her, sliding his fingers into the neck of the shirt.
“So it doesn’t hold any special memories for you?” His grip tightened on the collar. “You wouldn’t miss it if it got ripped?”
“Nah. Just a shirt. I have tons of them.” She cocked her head again. “Why?”
“Because I hate Dallas.” Jon whispered, smirking as he tugged hard, easily ripping the collar apart.
Still grinning, he looked at Billie’s face, seeing no irritation, and he kept his grasp on the fabric tight, slowly ripping the shirt all the way to the hem. As he dropped his hands, Billie looked down, touching the torn edge before flicking her eyes back up to Jon’s sparkling blues.
“So now I need to change this.” She murmured, turning to pass him, but Jon grabbed the shirt again.
“Take it off and I’ll toss it in the trash.” He instructed, pulling the destroyed shirt back off her shoulders.
Shaking her head at his oh-so-male attitude over something as trivial - to her - as a football team, Billie let him pull the shirt off, walking naked from the kitchen. Jon watched her go, his eyes following the jagged line of the scar on her back, then when she was out of sight he grinned for no reason, balling the shirt in his hands. He found the trash and stuffed it in, then Billie returned, wearing yet another t shirt, and this time Jon applauded with a laugh.
“Now that’s more like it!” He approved, looking at the Giants logo emblazoned across her chest.
“I’m glad you approve.” Billie smiled back. “Now can I make the popcorn?”
“Yep. Can I help?”
“Nope. I just have to heat this pan then throw in some corn.”
The pan she had was a strange, old-fashioned type, with a stirring blade connected to the lid, so that once it had heated enough and she added corn Billie was able to keep the kernels moving to ensure they all popped. Jon assisted by opening beers, and Billie also got him to melt butter in a pan, pouring it over the finished popcorn. She filled a huge bowl with the hot, buttery corn, and they took it through to the living room, sitting comfortably side-by-side on the couch to eat.
When the corn was finished, Billie took away the bowl and brought back a damp cloth so they could wipe the butter from their fingers and faces, then she smiled suddenly at Jon, nodding to the guitar.
“You said you’re in a band?”
“Yeah.”
“Sing me a song.” She requested, and Jon grinned, reaching for the guitar.
“Whaddya want to hear?” He wasn’t really keen to play any of his own, band, stuff, on the offchance that she recognised it. He was enjoying being, well, being enjoyed just for who he was.
“Something old.” Billie said, not very helpfully, and Jon strummed distractedly as he thought, then grinned.
“How ‘bout this?”
He started in on the old Doctor Hook song, Sylvia’s Mother, and Billie listened with pure enjoyment, his voice husky and low, building to heartbreaking emotion with rare skill. Finishing that, grinning at Billie’s applause and smiles, Jon started singing a song she didn’t recognise, and Billie did that little head-tilting thing as she listened.
“Here I am, baby, right where you found me, tryin’ to break these chains that surround me….”
When Jon finished the song, Billie applauded again.
“I’ve never heard that before.” She said, then, remembering he was in a band. “Is that one of your own songs?”
“That? Naw. That’s a Southside Johnny song - Trapped Again.”
“Southside Johnny?” Billie frowned. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“You haven’t?!” Jon looked shocked, but it was partly put on. “He’s the guy I started out emulatin’ in all the bars we played…..you’ve never heard of Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes?”
“Nuh-uh. I’m guessing they’re from New Jersey?”
“Yeah. That was written by Stevie Van Zandt, who plays with Bruce in the E-Street Band.”
“Bruce……..” Billie thought hard. “Springsteen?”
“Oh, so you have heard of some bands from Jersey, then?”
She blushed. “I guess. Craig liked Springsteen.”
“Oh.” Jon let it drop instantly, reaching for his beer and, finding it empty, he looked at Billie suspiciously. “Did you finish my beer?”
“Maybe.” Billie smirked. “I got so distracted, listening to you sing so pretty, I maybe drank your beer.”
“Aw, shit. And I’m supposed to be mad when you put it that way?” Jon shook his head, laying down the guitar. “You want another?”
“No - I’m fine.” She pushed herself from the couch anyway. “I should clean out that popcorn pan though.”
She washed out the pan, and the buttery one, while Jon got himself another beer and perched up on the counter to watch her work. Billie was feeling a prickle of uncertainty again. It was weird. She’d made love with - or fucked - Jon in a variety of places in her home, yet it didn’t feel right to actually sleep in the same bed with him. She just had to hope he felt the same thing she did as she dried her hands and turned to face him.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.” She said softly.
Jon was playing with the label on his beer bottle, picking the edge loose then smoothing it down again, over and over. He kind of hoped Billie wasn’t going to invite him to sleep in her bed, because, well, sex was all well and good. Okay, that was an understatement. Sex with Billie was fantastic. But sleeping together implied something more permanent, in Jon’s mind, and it made him uncomfortable, not knowing what Billie was thinking.
“I’m pretty tired, too.” Jon said, still looking down at the bottle. “Guess I better go wrestle with that crazy couch thing.”
“You’re just not mechanical enough.” Billie teased, relieved. “I can fix it for you if you like - not that hard.”
“Nah, s’cool - I can do it.” Jon grinned at her now, their mutual awkwardness gone. “G’night Billie.”
“G’night Jon.” She smiled, just lightly touching his knee as she walked past on her way to her bedroom.
So Jon pulled out the bed and found the pillows, stripping and getting into bed. Just before he fell asleep he realised he really really needed to ask Billie if he could get his jeans and stuff washed, but the thought faded as he fell asleep.
In the darkness, Jon woke suddenly, hearing a strange sound. It was a painful whimper, and he pushed himself upright in the bed.
“Billie?”
No answer, and he reached to the lamp by the couch, flicking it on. Next minute, he was out of the bed and on his knees on the floor by the bloody body.
“Aw, Jesus.” He muttered, looking around for something - anything - to stem the bleeding.
“That shirt.” Jon pouted. “I can’t believe you’re wearing that fucking thing.”
“Huh?” She was lost, gripping the hem of the shirt and pulling it out to look down at the design. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Darlin’ - I guess I never mentioned it, but I’m from New Jersey, and, well, that name on your shirt……”
“Yeeeah?”
Jon sighed. “Let’s just say it’s a dirty word around me.”
“Cowboys?” Billie frowned, tilting her head curiously, a smile starting to play around her lips as she understood. “What? You don’t like Dallas?”
“Hell no. Dallas sucks. Plus they play a dirty game. If you tell me you’re a Cowboys fan I may have to leave right now.”
“I’m not an anybody fan.” She replied, still tugging at the shirt. “I picked it up when I was in Dallas years ago - I like to buy shirts from places I’ve been.”
“But the Cowboys?” He pouted again, but the smile was starting.
“I’m sorry. D’you want me to take it off?”
Jon was beginning to grin again, walking slowly toward her.
“That depends. Do you like that shirt?”
“It’s a shirt. I wear it to bed.” Billie shrugged, and now Jon was in front of her, sliding his fingers into the neck of the shirt.
“So it doesn’t hold any special memories for you?” His grip tightened on the collar. “You wouldn’t miss it if it got ripped?”
“Nah. Just a shirt. I have tons of them.” She cocked her head again. “Why?”
“Because I hate Dallas.” Jon whispered, smirking as he tugged hard, easily ripping the collar apart.
Still grinning, he looked at Billie’s face, seeing no irritation, and he kept his grasp on the fabric tight, slowly ripping the shirt all the way to the hem. As he dropped his hands, Billie looked down, touching the torn edge before flicking her eyes back up to Jon’s sparkling blues.
“So now I need to change this.” She murmured, turning to pass him, but Jon grabbed the shirt again.
“Take it off and I’ll toss it in the trash.” He instructed, pulling the destroyed shirt back off her shoulders.
Shaking her head at his oh-so-male attitude over something as trivial - to her - as a football team, Billie let him pull the shirt off, walking naked from the kitchen. Jon watched her go, his eyes following the jagged line of the scar on her back, then when she was out of sight he grinned for no reason, balling the shirt in his hands. He found the trash and stuffed it in, then Billie returned, wearing yet another t shirt, and this time Jon applauded with a laugh.
“Now that’s more like it!” He approved, looking at the Giants logo emblazoned across her chest.
“I’m glad you approve.” Billie smiled back. “Now can I make the popcorn?”
“Yep. Can I help?”
“Nope. I just have to heat this pan then throw in some corn.”
The pan she had was a strange, old-fashioned type, with a stirring blade connected to the lid, so that once it had heated enough and she added corn Billie was able to keep the kernels moving to ensure they all popped. Jon assisted by opening beers, and Billie also got him to melt butter in a pan, pouring it over the finished popcorn. She filled a huge bowl with the hot, buttery corn, and they took it through to the living room, sitting comfortably side-by-side on the couch to eat.
When the corn was finished, Billie took away the bowl and brought back a damp cloth so they could wipe the butter from their fingers and faces, then she smiled suddenly at Jon, nodding to the guitar.
“You said you’re in a band?”
“Yeah.”
“Sing me a song.” She requested, and Jon grinned, reaching for the guitar.
“Whaddya want to hear?” He wasn’t really keen to play any of his own, band, stuff, on the offchance that she recognised it. He was enjoying being, well, being enjoyed just for who he was.
“Something old.” Billie said, not very helpfully, and Jon strummed distractedly as he thought, then grinned.
“How ‘bout this?”
He started in on the old Doctor Hook song, Sylvia’s Mother, and Billie listened with pure enjoyment, his voice husky and low, building to heartbreaking emotion with rare skill. Finishing that, grinning at Billie’s applause and smiles, Jon started singing a song she didn’t recognise, and Billie did that little head-tilting thing as she listened.
“Here I am, baby, right where you found me, tryin’ to break these chains that surround me….”
When Jon finished the song, Billie applauded again.
“I’ve never heard that before.” She said, then, remembering he was in a band. “Is that one of your own songs?”
“That? Naw. That’s a Southside Johnny song - Trapped Again.”
“Southside Johnny?” Billie frowned. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“You haven’t?!” Jon looked shocked, but it was partly put on. “He’s the guy I started out emulatin’ in all the bars we played…..you’ve never heard of Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes?”
“Nuh-uh. I’m guessing they’re from New Jersey?”
“Yeah. That was written by Stevie Van Zandt, who plays with Bruce in the E-Street Band.”
“Bruce……..” Billie thought hard. “Springsteen?”
“Oh, so you have heard of some bands from Jersey, then?”
She blushed. “I guess. Craig liked Springsteen.”
“Oh.” Jon let it drop instantly, reaching for his beer and, finding it empty, he looked at Billie suspiciously. “Did you finish my beer?”
“Maybe.” Billie smirked. “I got so distracted, listening to you sing so pretty, I maybe drank your beer.”
“Aw, shit. And I’m supposed to be mad when you put it that way?” Jon shook his head, laying down the guitar. “You want another?”
“No - I’m fine.” She pushed herself from the couch anyway. “I should clean out that popcorn pan though.”
She washed out the pan, and the buttery one, while Jon got himself another beer and perched up on the counter to watch her work. Billie was feeling a prickle of uncertainty again. It was weird. She’d made love with - or fucked - Jon in a variety of places in her home, yet it didn’t feel right to actually sleep in the same bed with him. She just had to hope he felt the same thing she did as she dried her hands and turned to face him.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.” She said softly.
Jon was playing with the label on his beer bottle, picking the edge loose then smoothing it down again, over and over. He kind of hoped Billie wasn’t going to invite him to sleep in her bed, because, well, sex was all well and good. Okay, that was an understatement. Sex with Billie was fantastic. But sleeping together implied something more permanent, in Jon’s mind, and it made him uncomfortable, not knowing what Billie was thinking.
“I’m pretty tired, too.” Jon said, still looking down at the bottle. “Guess I better go wrestle with that crazy couch thing.”
“You’re just not mechanical enough.” Billie teased, relieved. “I can fix it for you if you like - not that hard.”
“Nah, s’cool - I can do it.” Jon grinned at her now, their mutual awkwardness gone. “G’night Billie.”
“G’night Jon.” She smiled, just lightly touching his knee as she walked past on her way to her bedroom.
So Jon pulled out the bed and found the pillows, stripping and getting into bed. Just before he fell asleep he realised he really really needed to ask Billie if he could get his jeans and stuff washed, but the thought faded as he fell asleep.
In the darkness, Jon woke suddenly, hearing a strange sound. It was a painful whimper, and he pushed himself upright in the bed.
“Billie?”
No answer, and he reached to the lamp by the couch, flicking it on. Next minute, he was out of the bed and on his knees on the floor by the bloody body.
“Aw, Jesus.” He muttered, looking around for something - anything - to stem the bleeding.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Chapter Twenty Two
Billie reached one hand to grasp his shaft, but Jon caught her wrist, shaking his head.
“Wait, Billie.” His voice was rough with need. “You gotta give me a minute, darlin’.”
She looked up at him in confusion, and Jon grinned painfully as he had to explain.
“Billie - feeling you cum - making you cum - got me so fuckin’ hard that if you touch me right now I’ll cum….lemme get myself together first.”
She pouted a little, but sat back on her heels, gazing up at him. Breathing deeply, Jon forced control onto himself, but did allow himself one indulgence.
“Take off your shirt.” He requested. “I want to see you.”
Billie obeyed, tossing her t shirt aside, and now Jon could see the dull red marks of his fingers on the pale flesh. Feeling like he could keep from losing control now, Jon drew her hand up, wrapping her fingers around his cock.
“So hard.” Billie whispered, letting Jon slide her hand up and down his length, rubbing her thumb over the tip on each stroke.
Unbidden, she moved closer, her free hand lightly cupping his balls, gentle squeezes in rhythm with their stroking hands. For Jon, the eroticism of both their hands working on his swollen flesh was delicious, then Billie brought her mouth toward him. Since he hadn’t yet told her what to do, she decided to try to convince him to tell her.
“Do you like if I kiss you?” She asked, laying a feathery kiss on the tip of him, then letting her tongue slip out to caress around the swollen head. “Or do you like me to lick you?” A slow dip of her head, her tongue sliding all the way to his balls and back to the head. “When I lick you all the way down?”
“Yes.” Jon grated through clenched teeth.
“Yes to which?” Billie flicked her tongue on him before kissing again. “Or do you mean yes to both?”
“Both.” Jon said hoarsely, lifting his hand from his dick to lay it on her head, the blue eyes intense as he watched her. “And I like……I want you to suck my dick, baby.”
His hand was encouraging her down onto him, and Billie kissed the tip again, her lips still against the sensitive skin as she spoke softly.
“Suck like this?” She took just the distended head into her mouth, sucking in rhythm with her hand sliding on his shaft, then lifting back to touch her lips to the end. “Or suck like this?” With that, she gradually took his full length into her mouth, into her throat, swallowing against him then raising her head again to look at him. “Which do you like, Jon?”
“Sweet Jesus.” He groaned. “I thought you said you weren’t good at this?”
“I’m not.” Billie looked surprised. “Craig never liked……”
“Don’t mean to hurt your feelings, Billie.” Jon said - hoping he wasn’t about to leave himself having to finish things off alone. “But if Craig didn’t like having that mouth - your mouth - wrapped around his dick, he was a fuckin’ moron. Please…..I loved when you took me all the way deep, darlin. Do it again, please….”
Billie looked up at Jon, considering. She suddenly remembered, though, exactly what Craig had said, when he said he didn’t want her giving him head. How he’d said it wasn’t something ‘nice’ girls did, even to their fiancé. How his whole attitude to sex, really, had been so old-fashioned. She’d loved him deeply, but she couldn’t imagine him fucking her on the kitchen table, pounding her into screaming abandon. And definitely couldn’t see him loving her out in the open, in broad daylight, like Jon had done. Billie was naturally inquisitive, and that carried over into sexual curiosity - something Craig had tried to suppress, somehow. She’d never realised it before, and Billie blinked up at Jon, then she smiled, moving in to sink him into her mouth once more.
Jon groaned as Billie took him in, her tongue flicking against him, taking him deep then rising to suck on the tip, over and over, feeling Jon fisting both hands into her hair, guiding her movements and dictating the pace.
Billie could hear him groaning above her, panting her name as he thrust deeper into her mouth, hips pumping.
“Billie…..oh, Jesus, Billie…..faster, darlin’……suck me, oh……….harder……..oh, God, I’m gonna……..”
With Jon’s hands in her hair, Billie obeyed his mumbled requests, bobbing her head faster on him, sucking harder, until his final gasp, when she took him all the way into her throat again, letting his cum pulse down her throat, slightly regretting it because she didn’t get to taste him. Jon’s hands were so tightly fisted in her hair that Billie was afraid to try to raise her head from where she had her face buried at his crotch, in case he took handfuls of her hair away. As she felt his back relax from the bow-taut arch, letting his dick ease back from her throat, Billie was able to move back, releasing him from her mouth.
Jon’s face was flushed, his head back and eyes closed as he panted, and Billie reached to gently rub her fingers up his belly, into the thick mat of chest hair. At the caress, Jon opened his eyes, looking at her dreamily.
“Ca’ Ballou.” He mumbled.
“Huh?!”
“You. Cat Ballou. How’s it go? ‘face of an angel and a mouth like the devil’?”
“I don’t know.” Billie shrugged, but she grinned at the description regardless. “But I doubt this is quite what they meant anyway.”
“Don’t care.” Jon grinned. “S’appropriate.”
Billie chuckled again, then as she moved she could feel the sticky wetness of her own juices between her thighs, and she got to her feet.
“I need to go change again.” She said. “And it’s all your fault.”
“Me?!” on couldn’t quite pull off the innocent look. “What’d I do?”
“You….” Billie leaned down to kiss him - a mistake as it brought her bare breasts into grabbing range. Something Jon was happy to exploit. “You got me off and now my shorts are all wet.”
“I’m sorry.” Jon muttered, his attention distracted by the double handful of soft flesh he held.
“Oh, yeah, right. Sure you are.” Billie fought the impulse to lean down and bring her nipples to his mouth level.” I really believe that.”
She pulled away from him and headed to her bedroom, throwing her shorts into the laundry basket and grabbing another baggy t shirt. After going into the bathroom to clean herself up - again - she pulled on the shirt and went to the kitchen, yelling to Jon.
“D’you want popcorn?”
“Sure. Salty or sweet?”
She laughed wickedly. “I like salty things.”
“I know you do.” Jon laughed, and Billie realised from the volume of his voice that he’d come through into the kitchen.
Finishing what she was doing - fetching her mom’s old popcorn pan from a cupboard - Billie turned to face Jon. He’d been grinning at the sight of her bare ass, exposed since all she wore was the t shirt, but when she turned to face him and he saw the front of the shirt, his face fell.
“Oh, no fuckin’ way.” He muttered sourly.
“Wait, Billie.” His voice was rough with need. “You gotta give me a minute, darlin’.”
She looked up at him in confusion, and Jon grinned painfully as he had to explain.
“Billie - feeling you cum - making you cum - got me so fuckin’ hard that if you touch me right now I’ll cum….lemme get myself together first.”
She pouted a little, but sat back on her heels, gazing up at him. Breathing deeply, Jon forced control onto himself, but did allow himself one indulgence.
“Take off your shirt.” He requested. “I want to see you.”
Billie obeyed, tossing her t shirt aside, and now Jon could see the dull red marks of his fingers on the pale flesh. Feeling like he could keep from losing control now, Jon drew her hand up, wrapping her fingers around his cock.
“So hard.” Billie whispered, letting Jon slide her hand up and down his length, rubbing her thumb over the tip on each stroke.
Unbidden, she moved closer, her free hand lightly cupping his balls, gentle squeezes in rhythm with their stroking hands. For Jon, the eroticism of both their hands working on his swollen flesh was delicious, then Billie brought her mouth toward him. Since he hadn’t yet told her what to do, she decided to try to convince him to tell her.
“Do you like if I kiss you?” She asked, laying a feathery kiss on the tip of him, then letting her tongue slip out to caress around the swollen head. “Or do you like me to lick you?” A slow dip of her head, her tongue sliding all the way to his balls and back to the head. “When I lick you all the way down?”
“Yes.” Jon grated through clenched teeth.
“Yes to which?” Billie flicked her tongue on him before kissing again. “Or do you mean yes to both?”
“Both.” Jon said hoarsely, lifting his hand from his dick to lay it on her head, the blue eyes intense as he watched her. “And I like……I want you to suck my dick, baby.”
His hand was encouraging her down onto him, and Billie kissed the tip again, her lips still against the sensitive skin as she spoke softly.
“Suck like this?” She took just the distended head into her mouth, sucking in rhythm with her hand sliding on his shaft, then lifting back to touch her lips to the end. “Or suck like this?” With that, she gradually took his full length into her mouth, into her throat, swallowing against him then raising her head again to look at him. “Which do you like, Jon?”
“Sweet Jesus.” He groaned. “I thought you said you weren’t good at this?”
“I’m not.” Billie looked surprised. “Craig never liked……”
“Don’t mean to hurt your feelings, Billie.” Jon said - hoping he wasn’t about to leave himself having to finish things off alone. “But if Craig didn’t like having that mouth - your mouth - wrapped around his dick, he was a fuckin’ moron. Please…..I loved when you took me all the way deep, darlin. Do it again, please….”
Billie looked up at Jon, considering. She suddenly remembered, though, exactly what Craig had said, when he said he didn’t want her giving him head. How he’d said it wasn’t something ‘nice’ girls did, even to their fiancé. How his whole attitude to sex, really, had been so old-fashioned. She’d loved him deeply, but she couldn’t imagine him fucking her on the kitchen table, pounding her into screaming abandon. And definitely couldn’t see him loving her out in the open, in broad daylight, like Jon had done. Billie was naturally inquisitive, and that carried over into sexual curiosity - something Craig had tried to suppress, somehow. She’d never realised it before, and Billie blinked up at Jon, then she smiled, moving in to sink him into her mouth once more.
Jon groaned as Billie took him in, her tongue flicking against him, taking him deep then rising to suck on the tip, over and over, feeling Jon fisting both hands into her hair, guiding her movements and dictating the pace.
Billie could hear him groaning above her, panting her name as he thrust deeper into her mouth, hips pumping.
“Billie…..oh, Jesus, Billie…..faster, darlin’……suck me, oh……….harder……..oh, God, I’m gonna……..”
With Jon’s hands in her hair, Billie obeyed his mumbled requests, bobbing her head faster on him, sucking harder, until his final gasp, when she took him all the way into her throat again, letting his cum pulse down her throat, slightly regretting it because she didn’t get to taste him. Jon’s hands were so tightly fisted in her hair that Billie was afraid to try to raise her head from where she had her face buried at his crotch, in case he took handfuls of her hair away. As she felt his back relax from the bow-taut arch, letting his dick ease back from her throat, Billie was able to move back, releasing him from her mouth.
Jon’s face was flushed, his head back and eyes closed as he panted, and Billie reached to gently rub her fingers up his belly, into the thick mat of chest hair. At the caress, Jon opened his eyes, looking at her dreamily.
“Ca’ Ballou.” He mumbled.
“Huh?!”
“You. Cat Ballou. How’s it go? ‘face of an angel and a mouth like the devil’?”
“I don’t know.” Billie shrugged, but she grinned at the description regardless. “But I doubt this is quite what they meant anyway.”
“Don’t care.” Jon grinned. “S’appropriate.”
Billie chuckled again, then as she moved she could feel the sticky wetness of her own juices between her thighs, and she got to her feet.
“I need to go change again.” She said. “And it’s all your fault.”
“Me?!” on couldn’t quite pull off the innocent look. “What’d I do?”
“You….” Billie leaned down to kiss him - a mistake as it brought her bare breasts into grabbing range. Something Jon was happy to exploit. “You got me off and now my shorts are all wet.”
“I’m sorry.” Jon muttered, his attention distracted by the double handful of soft flesh he held.
“Oh, yeah, right. Sure you are.” Billie fought the impulse to lean down and bring her nipples to his mouth level.” I really believe that.”
She pulled away from him and headed to her bedroom, throwing her shorts into the laundry basket and grabbing another baggy t shirt. After going into the bathroom to clean herself up - again - she pulled on the shirt and went to the kitchen, yelling to Jon.
“D’you want popcorn?”
“Sure. Salty or sweet?”
She laughed wickedly. “I like salty things.”
“I know you do.” Jon laughed, and Billie realised from the volume of his voice that he’d come through into the kitchen.
Finishing what she was doing - fetching her mom’s old popcorn pan from a cupboard - Billie turned to face Jon. He’d been grinning at the sight of her bare ass, exposed since all she wore was the t shirt, but when she turned to face him and he saw the front of the shirt, his face fell.
“Oh, no fuckin’ way.” He muttered sourly.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Chapter Twenty One
Perched on Jon’s lap - certainly not an unpleasant place to be - Billie felt him take hold of her left hand, lifting it to the neck of the guitar. The stretch around her to the guitar was just too far, though, and Jon’s right hand grasped her waist, pulling her back against him. That was what Billie had been trying to avoid, though, because while she’d been in the shower Jon had divested himself of his t shirt, so now she felt the thick, crisp fur on his chest, the mat of hair thick enough she could feel it through her t shirt. Hearing her sharp intake of breath, Jon grinned, but didn’t say a word, just looked over her shoulder as he positioned her fingers on the strings.
“Okay.” He said, his own fingers over hers. “That’s a C chord. Strum that.”
Billie obeyed, and Jon led her through a few other chords, feeling her relaxing against him, the stiffness going out of her. Of course, it seemed like the stiffness just transferred from her to him, as Jon felt the scent and feel of her starting to raise interest at his crotch. Knowing her fingers would get sore if they continued too long, Jon dropped his hand from Billie’s.
“Play me a C.” He asked, and while it certainly wasn’t perfect, it was pretty damned good considering she’d never played. “Lesson over.” Jon purred.
Gratefully, Billie released the strings, looking at her fingertips and gasping at the pain in the deep grooves there. Jon chuckled in her ear.
“Sore?”
“Uh-huh.”
He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing the pad of each finger then gently sucking the tip of her middle finger into his mouth.
“Is that better?”
“Uh-huh.” She repeated, but it was more of a moan as Billie shifted restlessly and felt the hard, hot lump behind her.
With his left hand, Jon lifted the guitar away, setting it down on the floor, and his right hand dropped to get under her t shirt, caressing her belly before moving up to her breast. When he cupped her breast, squeezing firmly, Billie moved on him again, whimpering as she twisted her head around to kiss him. Jon got his other hand under her shirt now, and Billie matched his rhythmic kneading of her breasts with slow movements of her hips, until Jon was thrusting up against her.
His right hand fell to her waist, popping the button of her shorts, but Billie swiftly laid her hand over his, stilling his advance and breaking the kiss to apologise softly.
“Jon - I can’t……..not right now.” She was blushing as she continued. “I want to - really - but, well, I hadn’t had sex in like three years, and we’ve…..so many times….and…..”
“You’re sore?” Jon supplied with an understanding smile.
“Mm-hm.”
“S’okay.” He nudged her hand away, finishing what he’d been doing, unbuttoning and unzipping her shorts.
His left hand still caressed her breast as his right slid down between her thighs, his fingertips carefully parting the soft, fleshy folds, seeking out her clit. Light, gentle strokes made her gasp, and as he felt her move, spreading her legs, Jon whispered in her ear.
“Is that okay? Or d’you want me to stop?” As he finished speaking, Jon let his middle finger slide deep into her welcoming heat, and Billie moaned.
“Don’t stop.” Her head fell back onto his shoulder before she repeated her entreaty. “Please don’t stop.”
“Okay.” Jon mumbled against her lips, kissing her as hard as he could in the somewhat awkward position.
He slid his finger out of her, going back to the slow caresses on her clit, Billie thrusting her hips against his hand now. Billie brought her right hand up to tangle in his hair, then as Jon brought her closer to the edge, her head fell back onto his shoulder again and she slid her left hand up his arm to find his hand, lacing her fingers between his, both squeezing her breast.
Jon held her on the brink of orgasm, slow circles of his fingers on her clit, down to part her, slipping inside for a slow thrust then up to the tightly swollen bud, until she was writhing, panting helplessly.
With her head so far back on his shoulder, Jon wasn’t able to kiss her, and he contented himself with nipping at her neck and throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses as far as he could reach. Billie moaned when he thrust two fingers all the way into her again, arching her back, and Jon chuckled suddenly, biting on her shoulder as he thrust again, curling his fingers to strike the inside of her tight walls. Billie cried out in pleasure, her body tensing as she clenched around Jon’s fingers, clenching so tightly that she forced his fingers almost right out of her. Jon bit her again, and as her body relaxed slightly he plunged his fingers deep again so she screamed.
Spreading his own knees apart, Jon held her legs wide as he got her off, his hand deep between her spread thighs. Billie was rocking on top of him, and it took a lot of willpower for Jon not to rip her shorts off and cram her full with his swollen dick, but he held his self-control even when she climaxed again on his lap, sobbing and moaning with pleasure.
She slowly relaxed again from the muscle-snapping spasms of orgasm, Jon still caressing her pulsing flesh.
“Oh my God.” Billie breathed. “You’re way too good at that!”
Jon just chuckled, but Billie suddenly realised.
“You didn’t…..” Her eyes turned naughty. “I can help with that.”
“Can you now?”
“I think so.” She shifted further so she could see him, blushing in slight embarrassment. “I’ve never been very good at - y’know - oral.” The thoughtful way she sucked on her lower lip made that hard for Jon to believe, but she really was serious.
“Tell me.” Billie said suddenly.
“Tell you what, darlin’?”
“Tell me what you like. Tell me what to do.” She blushed again. “Teach me how to please you that way.”
Slipping from his grasp, Billie eased herself to the floor, kneeling in front of him. She reached up to his jeans, opening them with fingers still trembling in reaction and drawing his hard length through, Jon raising his hips to push the denim to his thighs.
“Tell me what to do.” Billie whispered again.
“Okay.” He said, his own fingers over hers. “That’s a C chord. Strum that.”
Billie obeyed, and Jon led her through a few other chords, feeling her relaxing against him, the stiffness going out of her. Of course, it seemed like the stiffness just transferred from her to him, as Jon felt the scent and feel of her starting to raise interest at his crotch. Knowing her fingers would get sore if they continued too long, Jon dropped his hand from Billie’s.
“Play me a C.” He asked, and while it certainly wasn’t perfect, it was pretty damned good considering she’d never played. “Lesson over.” Jon purred.
Gratefully, Billie released the strings, looking at her fingertips and gasping at the pain in the deep grooves there. Jon chuckled in her ear.
“Sore?”
“Uh-huh.”
He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing the pad of each finger then gently sucking the tip of her middle finger into his mouth.
“Is that better?”
“Uh-huh.” She repeated, but it was more of a moan as Billie shifted restlessly and felt the hard, hot lump behind her.
With his left hand, Jon lifted the guitar away, setting it down on the floor, and his right hand dropped to get under her t shirt, caressing her belly before moving up to her breast. When he cupped her breast, squeezing firmly, Billie moved on him again, whimpering as she twisted her head around to kiss him. Jon got his other hand under her shirt now, and Billie matched his rhythmic kneading of her breasts with slow movements of her hips, until Jon was thrusting up against her.
His right hand fell to her waist, popping the button of her shorts, but Billie swiftly laid her hand over his, stilling his advance and breaking the kiss to apologise softly.
“Jon - I can’t……..not right now.” She was blushing as she continued. “I want to - really - but, well, I hadn’t had sex in like three years, and we’ve…..so many times….and…..”
“You’re sore?” Jon supplied with an understanding smile.
“Mm-hm.”
“S’okay.” He nudged her hand away, finishing what he’d been doing, unbuttoning and unzipping her shorts.
His left hand still caressed her breast as his right slid down between her thighs, his fingertips carefully parting the soft, fleshy folds, seeking out her clit. Light, gentle strokes made her gasp, and as he felt her move, spreading her legs, Jon whispered in her ear.
“Is that okay? Or d’you want me to stop?” As he finished speaking, Jon let his middle finger slide deep into her welcoming heat, and Billie moaned.
“Don’t stop.” Her head fell back onto his shoulder before she repeated her entreaty. “Please don’t stop.”
“Okay.” Jon mumbled against her lips, kissing her as hard as he could in the somewhat awkward position.
He slid his finger out of her, going back to the slow caresses on her clit, Billie thrusting her hips against his hand now. Billie brought her right hand up to tangle in his hair, then as Jon brought her closer to the edge, her head fell back onto his shoulder again and she slid her left hand up his arm to find his hand, lacing her fingers between his, both squeezing her breast.
Jon held her on the brink of orgasm, slow circles of his fingers on her clit, down to part her, slipping inside for a slow thrust then up to the tightly swollen bud, until she was writhing, panting helplessly.
With her head so far back on his shoulder, Jon wasn’t able to kiss her, and he contented himself with nipping at her neck and throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses as far as he could reach. Billie moaned when he thrust two fingers all the way into her again, arching her back, and Jon chuckled suddenly, biting on her shoulder as he thrust again, curling his fingers to strike the inside of her tight walls. Billie cried out in pleasure, her body tensing as she clenched around Jon’s fingers, clenching so tightly that she forced his fingers almost right out of her. Jon bit her again, and as her body relaxed slightly he plunged his fingers deep again so she screamed.
Spreading his own knees apart, Jon held her legs wide as he got her off, his hand deep between her spread thighs. Billie was rocking on top of him, and it took a lot of willpower for Jon not to rip her shorts off and cram her full with his swollen dick, but he held his self-control even when she climaxed again on his lap, sobbing and moaning with pleasure.
She slowly relaxed again from the muscle-snapping spasms of orgasm, Jon still caressing her pulsing flesh.
“Oh my God.” Billie breathed. “You’re way too good at that!”
Jon just chuckled, but Billie suddenly realised.
“You didn’t…..” Her eyes turned naughty. “I can help with that.”
“Can you now?”
“I think so.” She shifted further so she could see him, blushing in slight embarrassment. “I’ve never been very good at - y’know - oral.” The thoughtful way she sucked on her lower lip made that hard for Jon to believe, but she really was serious.
“Tell me.” Billie said suddenly.
“Tell you what, darlin’?”
“Tell me what you like. Tell me what to do.” She blushed again. “Teach me how to please you that way.”
Slipping from his grasp, Billie eased herself to the floor, kneeling in front of him. She reached up to his jeans, opening them with fingers still trembling in reaction and drawing his hard length through, Jon raising his hips to push the denim to his thighs.
“Tell me what to do.” Billie whispered again.
Chapter Twenty
Returning to the horses, Billie untied them both and led them to the river to drink. Of course, obeying the old proverb about leading horses to water, neither of them showed interest in the water, and after a few minutes Billie led them back to Jon.
While Billie had been dealing with the horses, he’d packed away the debris of their picnic, then walked up to where they’d left the saddles, hooking a hand into each, in the gap behind the horn, and carrying them back to where the blankets lay.
When Billie saw what he’d done, she chuckled softly.
“Would’ve been easier to let the horses carry them.” She told him, but Jon shrugged.
“Maybe, but the grass is shorter here for getting back on.”
“I guess.” Billie smiled. He was only trying to pull his weight after all. “Okay, take your girl and I’ll get them saddled.”
“I can do Copper.” Jon offered, then gave a grin. “And you can check I’ve done it properly.”
“Okay.” Billie agreed. “Just drop the rein on the ground and she’ll stand.”
Jon watched closely as Billie saddled Drummer, copying her faithfully. Having just carried the saddles, and well aware of how heavy they were, Jon was impressed with the easy, practiced way Billie swung the saddle onto her horse’s back. When he did the same, Copper grunted and looked at him reproachfully, because he let the saddle land on her too heavily.
“Sorry darlin’.” He purred, scratching at the base of her neck, and she forgave him instantly, proving that even a teenaged quarterhorse wasn’t immune to the Bongiovi charm.
Billie made a quick check of his work, and with the exception of suggesting he may want to pull the cinch tighter, she pronounced him an adequate cowboy.
“Waal, thank ya kindly, mayum.” He said in an exaggerated drawl, tipping the brim of his hat to her. Billie just rolled her eyes and turned back to Drummer, stepping into the stirrup and mounting easily.
Jon swung up onto Copper’s saddle and they set off again, following the riverbank this time.
They rode for another couple of hours, part of their route taking them deep into a canyon, and Billie looked around to get her bearings, then halted.
“Remember where I found you?” She asked. “At the outlook?”
“Yeah. Where you saved me from ending up coyote food.”
“Yeah.” She laughed, pointing upward. “Well, that’s it up there - see the three big rocks?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Just to the left of those is the outlook point.”
“That’s cool.” Jon grinned, looking around. “I liked the look of this place from up there, but it’s even prettier than I thought.”
“There’s a lot of pretty places around here - just that you have to know where to look.”
“In which case I’m glad to have such a good guide.” Jon quipped, then continued in a softer voice. “But it could be the company that’s opening my eyes more.”
“I……uh…..” Billie didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so she didn’t, just turning Drummer to the left. “We should keep moving, otherwise it’ll be dark by the time we get back.”
“Okay.” A sudden thought struck Jon. “Hey - does Copper have to go home tonight?”
“Nah. Jace said to just keep her until my guest is gone. She’ll stay with Drum.”
“In the same corral?” Jon frowned. “Is that okay? I mean - won’t they - y’know?”
“Huh?” At first Billie didn’t get it, then she started to laugh. “Okay - I’m revoking your honorary cowboy status!”
“Why?”
“Jon…..ummm…..I don’t know how to break this to you. First, horses only - mate - when the mare’s in season, and Copper isn’t. Second, well, Drum’s a gelding, so even if she was in season, he wouldn’t have a clue what to do, or the equipment either!”
“You mean you cut his balls off?” Jon exclaimed, feeling a sympathetic twinge in his own at the very idea.
“Not personally, no.” Billie laughed at his obvious discomfort. “He was already gelded when I bought him.”
“Poor horse.” Jon muttered.
Billie didn’t bother to answer, just chuckling at Jon’s reaction to something she considered normal.
The light was just starting to fade as they reached the ranch, Billie’s timing well-practiced, and they each unsaddled their own horse before turning them into the corral. Jon offered to fill the water while Billie sorted out feed, then they headed into the house once the horses were settled. Billie grabbed beers from the fridge, passing one to Jon.
“Hey - where’s Deke?” He asked suddenly, and Billie shrugged.
“He’ll be around somewhere. Probably asleep under the porch. Or off chasing rabbits.”
“Hunter, huh?”
“Oh, hell, no. When I say chasing, that’s what I mean - he’s not exactly got this whole stalking thing worked out - he’s more of a ‘yeeha, here I come’ kinda dog. I don’t think he’d know what to do with a rabbit if he did catch one!” She took a mouthful of beer before opening the fridge again. “You hungry?”
“Not really.”
“Me either.” Billie closed the fridge. “I’ll maybe make some popcorn later.”
“Sounds good.”
“Yeah.” She said, slightly distracted. “I’m just going to jump in the shower.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I think I still have sand stuck to me.”
What she didn’t say was that her jeans were uncomfortable, too. After they’d dressed on the riverbank, the mixture of her juices and Jon’s semen had continued to trickle from her, and the crotch of her jeans had gotten damp, worsened since she hadn’t worn panties.
“I’ll just make myself at home.” Jon smirked, and Billie nodded as she headed to the bathroom.
“You do that.”
Billie showered quickly, washing away the sticky residue of their earlier lovemaking, feeling the tenderness of her flesh from the unaccustomed activity. She dressed in a baggy t shirt and soft jersey shorts - her usual lounging-around-the-house attire, then as she left her bedroom she realised she could hear a guitar. It wasn’t being played exactly, but from the repeated notes she guessed Jon had found her dad’s old guitar and was trying to tune it.
When she reached the living room, he looked up, a slightly guilty expression on his face.
“Sorry. I wasn’t snooping around - honestly - I just went to put that hat back in the closet and found this.” He blanched. “Aw, shit. It’s not Craig’s, is it?”
“No.” Billie smiled at his obvious worry that he’d opened up an old wound, or overstepped a boundary. “It belonged to my dad. I can’t play, though, so it’s been in that closet ever since the accident. Nice to hear it again.”
“You sure?” Jon strummed experimentally. “I think that’s the closest I can get it to in tune - really needs a new set of strings.”
He played softly, not singing, just letting the notes fall, seeing the slight smile on Billie’s face. On a sudden impulse, Jon raised the guitar off his lap, beckoning Billie over.
“What?” She asked, crossing to where he sat anyway.
“Siddown.” Jon tugged her onto his lap, placing the guitar on her lap and reaching around her. “Time you had your first guitar lesson.”
While Billie had been dealing with the horses, he’d packed away the debris of their picnic, then walked up to where they’d left the saddles, hooking a hand into each, in the gap behind the horn, and carrying them back to where the blankets lay.
When Billie saw what he’d done, she chuckled softly.
“Would’ve been easier to let the horses carry them.” She told him, but Jon shrugged.
“Maybe, but the grass is shorter here for getting back on.”
“I guess.” Billie smiled. He was only trying to pull his weight after all. “Okay, take your girl and I’ll get them saddled.”
“I can do Copper.” Jon offered, then gave a grin. “And you can check I’ve done it properly.”
“Okay.” Billie agreed. “Just drop the rein on the ground and she’ll stand.”
Jon watched closely as Billie saddled Drummer, copying her faithfully. Having just carried the saddles, and well aware of how heavy they were, Jon was impressed with the easy, practiced way Billie swung the saddle onto her horse’s back. When he did the same, Copper grunted and looked at him reproachfully, because he let the saddle land on her too heavily.
“Sorry darlin’.” He purred, scratching at the base of her neck, and she forgave him instantly, proving that even a teenaged quarterhorse wasn’t immune to the Bongiovi charm.
Billie made a quick check of his work, and with the exception of suggesting he may want to pull the cinch tighter, she pronounced him an adequate cowboy.
“Waal, thank ya kindly, mayum.” He said in an exaggerated drawl, tipping the brim of his hat to her. Billie just rolled her eyes and turned back to Drummer, stepping into the stirrup and mounting easily.
Jon swung up onto Copper’s saddle and they set off again, following the riverbank this time.
They rode for another couple of hours, part of their route taking them deep into a canyon, and Billie looked around to get her bearings, then halted.
“Remember where I found you?” She asked. “At the outlook?”
“Yeah. Where you saved me from ending up coyote food.”
“Yeah.” She laughed, pointing upward. “Well, that’s it up there - see the three big rocks?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Just to the left of those is the outlook point.”
“That’s cool.” Jon grinned, looking around. “I liked the look of this place from up there, but it’s even prettier than I thought.”
“There’s a lot of pretty places around here - just that you have to know where to look.”
“In which case I’m glad to have such a good guide.” Jon quipped, then continued in a softer voice. “But it could be the company that’s opening my eyes more.”
“I……uh…..” Billie didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so she didn’t, just turning Drummer to the left. “We should keep moving, otherwise it’ll be dark by the time we get back.”
“Okay.” A sudden thought struck Jon. “Hey - does Copper have to go home tonight?”
“Nah. Jace said to just keep her until my guest is gone. She’ll stay with Drum.”
“In the same corral?” Jon frowned. “Is that okay? I mean - won’t they - y’know?”
“Huh?” At first Billie didn’t get it, then she started to laugh. “Okay - I’m revoking your honorary cowboy status!”
“Why?”
“Jon…..ummm…..I don’t know how to break this to you. First, horses only - mate - when the mare’s in season, and Copper isn’t. Second, well, Drum’s a gelding, so even if she was in season, he wouldn’t have a clue what to do, or the equipment either!”
“You mean you cut his balls off?” Jon exclaimed, feeling a sympathetic twinge in his own at the very idea.
“Not personally, no.” Billie laughed at his obvious discomfort. “He was already gelded when I bought him.”
“Poor horse.” Jon muttered.
Billie didn’t bother to answer, just chuckling at Jon’s reaction to something she considered normal.
The light was just starting to fade as they reached the ranch, Billie’s timing well-practiced, and they each unsaddled their own horse before turning them into the corral. Jon offered to fill the water while Billie sorted out feed, then they headed into the house once the horses were settled. Billie grabbed beers from the fridge, passing one to Jon.
“Hey - where’s Deke?” He asked suddenly, and Billie shrugged.
“He’ll be around somewhere. Probably asleep under the porch. Or off chasing rabbits.”
“Hunter, huh?”
“Oh, hell, no. When I say chasing, that’s what I mean - he’s not exactly got this whole stalking thing worked out - he’s more of a ‘yeeha, here I come’ kinda dog. I don’t think he’d know what to do with a rabbit if he did catch one!” She took a mouthful of beer before opening the fridge again. “You hungry?”
“Not really.”
“Me either.” Billie closed the fridge. “I’ll maybe make some popcorn later.”
“Sounds good.”
“Yeah.” She said, slightly distracted. “I’m just going to jump in the shower.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I think I still have sand stuck to me.”
What she didn’t say was that her jeans were uncomfortable, too. After they’d dressed on the riverbank, the mixture of her juices and Jon’s semen had continued to trickle from her, and the crotch of her jeans had gotten damp, worsened since she hadn’t worn panties.
“I’ll just make myself at home.” Jon smirked, and Billie nodded as she headed to the bathroom.
“You do that.”
Billie showered quickly, washing away the sticky residue of their earlier lovemaking, feeling the tenderness of her flesh from the unaccustomed activity. She dressed in a baggy t shirt and soft jersey shorts - her usual lounging-around-the-house attire, then as she left her bedroom she realised she could hear a guitar. It wasn’t being played exactly, but from the repeated notes she guessed Jon had found her dad’s old guitar and was trying to tune it.
When she reached the living room, he looked up, a slightly guilty expression on his face.
“Sorry. I wasn’t snooping around - honestly - I just went to put that hat back in the closet and found this.” He blanched. “Aw, shit. It’s not Craig’s, is it?”
“No.” Billie smiled at his obvious worry that he’d opened up an old wound, or overstepped a boundary. “It belonged to my dad. I can’t play, though, so it’s been in that closet ever since the accident. Nice to hear it again.”
“You sure?” Jon strummed experimentally. “I think that’s the closest I can get it to in tune - really needs a new set of strings.”
He played softly, not singing, just letting the notes fall, seeing the slight smile on Billie’s face. On a sudden impulse, Jon raised the guitar off his lap, beckoning Billie over.
“What?” She asked, crossing to where he sat anyway.
“Siddown.” Jon tugged her onto his lap, placing the guitar on her lap and reaching around her. “Time you had your first guitar lesson.”
Chapter Nineteen
After a swim that was, to say the least, bracing, Billie proved how well she knew this particular river as she led Jon, still swimming, to a tiny island. Really, it was little more than a sandbank, out in the middle of the river, but just big enough that they could get out of the water and let the sun warm their skin again.
Jon lay flat out on the talcum-soft sand, one arm crooked over his eyes to keep out the sun, but Billie was restless, only sitting briefly before getting to her feet again. She didn’t know what it was, but something about Jon made her feel……unsettled. The low chuckle escaped her before she could stop it as she allowed herself the realisation that unsettled wasn’t what he made her. He just made her horny - nothing more complex than that.
“What you laughin’ at?” Jon asked, not even moving his arm, but when Billie looked down at him she saw those soft lips spread in a smile.
“Myself.”
“Why?” Now he did move his arm, sitting up to look at her.
“Oh, I was just thinking……..” She halted in her wandering as his hand snaked up to grip her wrist.
“What were you thinking?” Jon glanced away from her face for a moment, his gaze sliding over her erect nipples and lower, believing he could see a sheen of moisture at the very top of her thighs. “And did it involve me?” His voice lowered, husky and sensual now.
“I……….” Billie blushed, and Jon grinned, moving onto his knees, pulling her closer.
“Tell me.” He breathed, and Billie felt his words as his hot breath fanned across her belly.
Jon released her wrist, his hands on her waist now, and his mouth on her belly, kissing around her navel then flicking his tongue slowly into the tight dip. Billie gave a soft moan, shifting her feet apart, and Jon happily took the invitation, sinking slightly lower to kiss his way down to the furred triangle at the base of her belly.
He shifted his grip to her ass, tilting her hips forward, and Billie spread her legs wider, trying to balance in the awkward position. She brought one hand onto Jon’s left wrist, and started to lay the other gently on his head, but just then his tongue darted out, flickering against her clit, and the intention of a gentle touch turned into a sudden grab at his hair as she bucked uncontrollably at the sensation.
Jon couldn’t be sure if Billie was naturally responsive, or reacting so easily because she’d been denied for so long, or if it was just that he turned her on, but whatever the reason it made him feel like the greatest guy in the world, that she got wet thinking about him, and that she responded so unselfconsciously to his touch. Of course, it also made him want to please her, to watch her lose control and give herself over to him completely.
Thoughts of Dorothea were far from his mind as he held Billie tightly, sucking on her clit, freeing his right hand from holding her so he could drive his fingers into her body, feeling her clenching around him. His body reacted to her excitement, thankfully recovered from the icy water, his dick swelling and rising as he knelt before her.
“Jon…..” She moaned, her legs shaking badly. “I can’t……..”
He lifted his head, seeing her expression and knowing she meant the support of his hand wasn’t enough. Grabbing her leg, Jon hooked it over his shoulder, and since his hand was busy doing that he drove his tongue into her, thrusting as deep as he could, Billie’s hand tightening on his hair.
It wasn’t enough, though, Jon’s dick almost vibrating with need now, and he pulled his head back, throwing Billie over so she landed on her back in the sand. She spread her legs wide, gasping with need, reaching for him, and Jon gladly crawled up her body, sliding his hands under her ass to lift and steady her as he rammed into her.
As he drove as deep as he could go, Billie screamed, the single stroke enough to throw her over the edge, and Jon froze in place, feeling her clenching around him, staying perfectly still until the spasms of orgasm faded away. Billie came back slowly, blinking up at him, seeing the bright blue eyes that made even the clear sky above seem dull, seeing the soft smile.
“You didn’t…….” She blushed, but Jon’s grin just made her even wetter.
“I was waiting for you, darlin’. Waiting to make you cum again.”
Now that she was relaxing slightly, Jon started thrusting slowly and rhythmically, wanting to make love to her this time, since their last two - or first two - times had turned around into something far more primal. Billie moaned under him, one hand in his hair, pulling his mouth onto hers, the other roaming down to cup his ass, pushing with him.
Jon was deeply tempted to let go, to just fuck her like before, but a perverse stubborn streak kept him to the steady tempo, one hand caressing Billie’s breast as he supported his weight on the other forearm.
Billie pulled his mouth from hers, pulling his head lower, sucking on his earlobe before biting lightly. Jon growled into her ear at the bite, dropping his mouth onto her shoulder, biting carefully where her neck and shoulder met. Billie groaned, arching her back, and Jon’s mouth tracked up to her ear.
“You like that?”
“Oh, yeah……..” She breathed. “Do you?”
Before he could answer, she bit on his shoulder, and the answering groan told her all she needed to know. Both careful to keep the bites light, they punctuated deep kisses with bites, until Billie was thrusting her hips against Jon so hard that he had to move his hand down to her hip, holding her as he felt his own climax building, closer and closer to release, then finally, just when Billie started to tighten around him in her own orgasm, it broke over him, Jon groaning with the beauty of release, slowly stopping his movements above her, letting himself rest on her body.
They were still recovering when Billie had to chuckle, hearing Drummer’s unmistakable whinny. Jon laughed sympathetically, raising his head to look at her.
“I guess he’s bored, huh?”
Billie looked at him in surprise. “How’d you know it was Drummer, not Copper?”
“Huh?” Jon eased back, sliding from her body and grinning. “C’mon, Billie - that was a boy’s voice!”
“You’re a very strange man.” She muttered for no particular reason, but Jon just nodded.
“Damned right I am.”
They got to their feet and headed to the edge of the sandbar, Billie’s back caked with damp sand, then Jon grimaced at the touch of the cold water on his feet.
“Great. We get dry then have to swim back.”
Billie smirked at him naughtily. “Speak for yourself. I was dry, until you got me wet.”
Jon was still trying to think of an appropriate response as she headed into the water, turning mischievously and kicking a sheet of water over him.
“Shit!” He yelled, immediately plunging into the river. “I’ll get you for that!”
Shrieking with laughter, Billie swam for it, but Jon was stronger and faster, catching her in the middle of the river and ducking her thoroughly. When she spluttered to the surface, he grabbed her and pulled her close, kissing her brutally hard, Billie groaning into his mouth, giving as good as she got.
They were forced apart, though, when Jon’s weight against her toppled Billie, and this time they both ended up underwater, coming up laughing. This time they did swim back to shore, rubbing themselves partly dry with their t shirts before dressing. Jon would always carry a memory of that day, though, a memory of Billie standing on the riverbank, laughing, wearing a black cowboy hat and not a stitch of clothing.
Jon lay flat out on the talcum-soft sand, one arm crooked over his eyes to keep out the sun, but Billie was restless, only sitting briefly before getting to her feet again. She didn’t know what it was, but something about Jon made her feel……unsettled. The low chuckle escaped her before she could stop it as she allowed herself the realisation that unsettled wasn’t what he made her. He just made her horny - nothing more complex than that.
“What you laughin’ at?” Jon asked, not even moving his arm, but when Billie looked down at him she saw those soft lips spread in a smile.
“Myself.”
“Why?” Now he did move his arm, sitting up to look at her.
“Oh, I was just thinking……..” She halted in her wandering as his hand snaked up to grip her wrist.
“What were you thinking?” Jon glanced away from her face for a moment, his gaze sliding over her erect nipples and lower, believing he could see a sheen of moisture at the very top of her thighs. “And did it involve me?” His voice lowered, husky and sensual now.
“I……….” Billie blushed, and Jon grinned, moving onto his knees, pulling her closer.
“Tell me.” He breathed, and Billie felt his words as his hot breath fanned across her belly.
Jon released her wrist, his hands on her waist now, and his mouth on her belly, kissing around her navel then flicking his tongue slowly into the tight dip. Billie gave a soft moan, shifting her feet apart, and Jon happily took the invitation, sinking slightly lower to kiss his way down to the furred triangle at the base of her belly.
He shifted his grip to her ass, tilting her hips forward, and Billie spread her legs wider, trying to balance in the awkward position. She brought one hand onto Jon’s left wrist, and started to lay the other gently on his head, but just then his tongue darted out, flickering against her clit, and the intention of a gentle touch turned into a sudden grab at his hair as she bucked uncontrollably at the sensation.
Jon couldn’t be sure if Billie was naturally responsive, or reacting so easily because she’d been denied for so long, or if it was just that he turned her on, but whatever the reason it made him feel like the greatest guy in the world, that she got wet thinking about him, and that she responded so unselfconsciously to his touch. Of course, it also made him want to please her, to watch her lose control and give herself over to him completely.
Thoughts of Dorothea were far from his mind as he held Billie tightly, sucking on her clit, freeing his right hand from holding her so he could drive his fingers into her body, feeling her clenching around him. His body reacted to her excitement, thankfully recovered from the icy water, his dick swelling and rising as he knelt before her.
“Jon…..” She moaned, her legs shaking badly. “I can’t……..”
He lifted his head, seeing her expression and knowing she meant the support of his hand wasn’t enough. Grabbing her leg, Jon hooked it over his shoulder, and since his hand was busy doing that he drove his tongue into her, thrusting as deep as he could, Billie’s hand tightening on his hair.
It wasn’t enough, though, Jon’s dick almost vibrating with need now, and he pulled his head back, throwing Billie over so she landed on her back in the sand. She spread her legs wide, gasping with need, reaching for him, and Jon gladly crawled up her body, sliding his hands under her ass to lift and steady her as he rammed into her.
As he drove as deep as he could go, Billie screamed, the single stroke enough to throw her over the edge, and Jon froze in place, feeling her clenching around him, staying perfectly still until the spasms of orgasm faded away. Billie came back slowly, blinking up at him, seeing the bright blue eyes that made even the clear sky above seem dull, seeing the soft smile.
“You didn’t…….” She blushed, but Jon’s grin just made her even wetter.
“I was waiting for you, darlin’. Waiting to make you cum again.”
Now that she was relaxing slightly, Jon started thrusting slowly and rhythmically, wanting to make love to her this time, since their last two - or first two - times had turned around into something far more primal. Billie moaned under him, one hand in his hair, pulling his mouth onto hers, the other roaming down to cup his ass, pushing with him.
Jon was deeply tempted to let go, to just fuck her like before, but a perverse stubborn streak kept him to the steady tempo, one hand caressing Billie’s breast as he supported his weight on the other forearm.
Billie pulled his mouth from hers, pulling his head lower, sucking on his earlobe before biting lightly. Jon growled into her ear at the bite, dropping his mouth onto her shoulder, biting carefully where her neck and shoulder met. Billie groaned, arching her back, and Jon’s mouth tracked up to her ear.
“You like that?”
“Oh, yeah……..” She breathed. “Do you?”
Before he could answer, she bit on his shoulder, and the answering groan told her all she needed to know. Both careful to keep the bites light, they punctuated deep kisses with bites, until Billie was thrusting her hips against Jon so hard that he had to move his hand down to her hip, holding her as he felt his own climax building, closer and closer to release, then finally, just when Billie started to tighten around him in her own orgasm, it broke over him, Jon groaning with the beauty of release, slowly stopping his movements above her, letting himself rest on her body.
They were still recovering when Billie had to chuckle, hearing Drummer’s unmistakable whinny. Jon laughed sympathetically, raising his head to look at her.
“I guess he’s bored, huh?”
Billie looked at him in surprise. “How’d you know it was Drummer, not Copper?”
“Huh?” Jon eased back, sliding from her body and grinning. “C’mon, Billie - that was a boy’s voice!”
“You’re a very strange man.” She muttered for no particular reason, but Jon just nodded.
“Damned right I am.”
They got to their feet and headed to the edge of the sandbar, Billie’s back caked with damp sand, then Jon grimaced at the touch of the cold water on his feet.
“Great. We get dry then have to swim back.”
Billie smirked at him naughtily. “Speak for yourself. I was dry, until you got me wet.”
Jon was still trying to think of an appropriate response as she headed into the water, turning mischievously and kicking a sheet of water over him.
“Shit!” He yelled, immediately plunging into the river. “I’ll get you for that!”
Shrieking with laughter, Billie swam for it, but Jon was stronger and faster, catching her in the middle of the river and ducking her thoroughly. When she spluttered to the surface, he grabbed her and pulled her close, kissing her brutally hard, Billie groaning into his mouth, giving as good as she got.
They were forced apart, though, when Jon’s weight against her toppled Billie, and this time they both ended up underwater, coming up laughing. This time they did swim back to shore, rubbing themselves partly dry with their t shirts before dressing. Jon would always carry a memory of that day, though, a memory of Billie standing on the riverbank, laughing, wearing a black cowboy hat and not a stitch of clothing.
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