Gazing outside, Jon grimaced at the sight of rain slanting down past the apartment window. Fall was beginning to really bite already, which sucked since it was only the end of September. He turned away from the depressing view, scratching a hand through his hair as he walked toward the bed, a sad smile on his lips at the sight of only one side of the cover rumpled, legacy of his having slept alone once more.
Catching sight of himself in the mirror as he walked toward the bathroom, he scowled, looking at his naked reflection almost angrily.
“Tell me again why you’re here and not on the fuckin’ beach?” He muttered to his reflection.
Unsurprisingly, there was no answer, but he did have to admit to a tiny flutter of satisfaction as he looked at the toned muscles he still had, even at forty six years old. Okay, so he wasn’t honed to the peak of fitness he’d been during the Bounce tour, but he’d lost weight during the last few months, greyhound-lean again, much as he’d been as a young man. Actually, in a lot of ways he was in far better shape than he had been in his twenties. The years had made him wiser, and instead of running himself - and the rest of the guys - into the ground, he paced himself much more now, so his lean appearance was down to fitness, and not to living on stale pretzels and yesterday’s coffee.
Glancing at the clock brought another scowl, and he hastened into the bathroom, showering quickly, thankful now for the shorter hairstyle, since it was quicker to wash and dry. Stepping out of the shower, a towel around his waist to catch the water, he looked at the long mirror over the vanity, debating whether to shave. After a moment, knowing he should make the effort today, he ran water into the deep basin, reaching for shave gel. Sometimes - just sometimes - he wished he was Joe Average, able to get by without shaving for a few days without the world’s press turning it into a story. Especially since he was back here in New York alone, Dorothea still in St Barts, where he’d be returning in a couple of days.
Leaving the bathroom, he roughly blowdried his hair before pulling on black jeans and a black turtleneck, then he grabbed a pair of boots and headed for the kitchen, thankful to find the coffee ready, courtesy of the timer. He had time to pour a travel mug full, snapping on the lid then shrugging into his current favorite jacket - black leather with red wings embroidered across the back. Cellphone in one pocket, Blackberry in the other, his wallet stuffed into the back pocket of his jeans and he was ready to go, sunglasses and coffee in hand as he left the apartment.
Downstairs, he nodded briskly to the concierge, slugging a mouthful of coffee as he headed outside. His car was waiting, but Jon glanced off to the side before raising a hand to the driver, telling him to wait. He walked to the corner, buying a pretzel from the vendor there, then he carried his breakfast back to the car, getting into the backseat.
“Morning, Mr Bon Jovi.” Said his regular driver.
“Hey, Kyle.” Jon nodded, ripping off a piece of pretzel as the car moved away.
By the time they reached Wachovia Center, Jon’s coffee was long finished and he was reading through emails on the Blackberry while talking on his phone. Pulling into the assigned parking spot, Kyle got out of the car and opened Jon’s door, and his boss nodded thanks as he got out, still talking animatedly, talking with his hands even though he was on the phone.
Jon paused at the door, wondering if he had time for a smoke, but glancing at his watch told him no, his nicotine fix would have to wait a bit longer. Swallowing the growl, he headed inside, walking along familiar corridors to the field.
Arriving at the field, he found things already underway, with his sometime-injured player, Mike Brown, watching as critically as Coach Munsey himself. On the field, a squad of would-be rookie players were being put through their paces by Jerry, the assistant head coach. Jon finished his call and closed the phone, making sure it was on silent before jamming it into his jeans pocket. He stood silently watching, unwilling to interrupt Brett’s concentration on the task, only stepping forward when Jerry called a break for the young players on the field.
“Hey Coach. Mike.”
“Hey boss. Glad you could make it.” Replied the head coach, respected and admired by his players and Jon in equal measure.
“Mr…….” Mike stopped as Jon rolled his eyes. “Sorry. Boss. How you doin’?”
“Good, Mike. How’s that leg?” Jon asked. Mike had been plagued by repeated strains of a hamstring for most of the past year, but where many coaches - and team owners - would have given up on him, neither Jon nor the coaching staff had even considered it, mainly because, when he was fit, Mike was one of the best in the League, and the success he’d brought more than outweighed the times he’d been sidelined.
“It’s doing good now.” Mike grinned. He knew how fortunate he’d been that the team had persevered with him. “Doc says I should be fit - for good this time - in a couple more weeks.”
“That’s great!” Jon grinned, high-fiving the player, then turning his attention back to the field as he saw Coach Munsey look across to where the next set of potential players were gathering. “How we doin’, Coach?”
“Not too bad.” He said, consulting his clipboard. “Some of them are kinda young, but there’s one kid there……..uh……number eighty four……has the best arm I’ve seen in years. He’s pretty green, but if he’s this good now, well…..”
“Eighty four?” Jon asked, and when Coach nodded he scanned the field until he picked out the number on the tabard.
Standing back against the boards, Jon watched the young player, seeing what Brett meant about the raw talent the kid had. Trained and honed, the kid could be a serious weapon for the Soul, and Jon grinned across at Munsey as the group of players reached the end of their tryout session, seeing Brett’s responding smile and nod.
“Yeah.” Jon said.
“Yeah.” Coach agreed. “Only slight problem is his age. Kid’s only nineteen, Jon. Not sure he’s mature enough to cope with the game schedule.”
Jon was still watching the young man, seeing his easy camaraderie with the squad of players he’d only just met, something in his easy manner drawing the others to him.
“You’re the coach, Coach…….but I’d say take him.” Jon gave his opinion, knowing well enough that, if Munsey didn’t think the kid could take it, it wouldn’t matter if God sent down the instruction on a stone tablet, the youngster would be gone.
Brett nodded slowly. “We’ll give him his shot. Welcome to the Soul, Jay Kelsall.”
At the end of the tryouts, Jon remained in the background as Munsey thanked all the young men for coming along, and for their interest in playing for the Philadelphia Soul. At the end of his short speech, he told them that, if their number was called, they’d made the grade. Otherwise, well, thanks for coming and goodbye.
Jon watched the faces as the players heard their numbers called, looks of relief from some, looks of pride from others. As Brett called out ‘eighty four’, his eyes flicked to the young player, seeing his grin of absolute joy, and there was something in the kid’s smile that disturbed Jon slightly. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
When the lucky ones had been called out, the others trooped disconsolately from the field, but in keeping with the philosophy of the team - of the League - there was no bitterness shown. Maybe, from some, just a determination that next time………next time, they’d get it.
The successful ones were lined up by Jerry, and he took their numbered bibs from them, the players changing play shoes for outdoor types. Jon, Brett and Mike walked across to speak to them, and there was a ripple of murmuring through the players as they realised that not only was the head coach coming over, and one of the star players, but also one of the majority owners of the team.
Jon thanked them for wanting to join the Soul ‘family’, keeping it brief and low-key, then as the huddle of people started to break up he made the effort to have a quick word with each of the guys individually, shaking hands as he went, excited as any true fan would be at the prospect of new blood in the team.
When he reached the end of the line, he found himself with the young player who’d caught Coach’s eye earlier. The kid held something in his left hand, looking nervously down at it, and Jon grinned reassuringly as he offered his hand to shake.
“Welcome to the Philadelphia Soul.” He said, and the young player shook hands firmly enough, his eyes still nervously downcast.
“Mr Bon Jovi…..”
“Mostly, the guys just call me ‘boss’.” Jon confided. Hell, he’d have been happy enough for them to call him Jon, but Munsey had always insisted that there needed to be a clear line that said he was in charge, not just ‘one of the guys’, and Jon saw the logic in that.
“Oh. Okay, Boss.” Even the few words betrayed the kid’s out-of-state accent. “I know I shouldn’t do this, but if I don’t do it now I probably never will. My……my mom is a real big fan of yours, and she’d kill me if she knew I’d brought this, but I wondered if you’d sign it for her?”
Jon blinked. That was a first. The kid was holding out what Jon could now see was a photograph, and he took it, holding down his irritation.
“Got a pen?” He asked as he turned the photo around, almost dropping it as he finally looked at it.
Staring up at him from the photograph was his own face, many years earlier, pressed close to a woman he hadn’t seen in almost twenty years. Billie. His secret cowgirl, Billie. The one he’d been thinking of when he wrote ‘Put the Boy Back in Cowboy’. The one he occasionally saw in his dreams, standing on a riverbank, naked but for a black cowboy hat.
“Is this…….” Jon cleared his throat, automatically taking the pen offered to him. “Is this your mom?”
“Yes sir.” Finally, Jay raised his head to look Jon in the eye, shyness evaporating now that he’d plucked up the courage to ask for this small favor.
Jon clenched his fist around the pen, fighting a wave of dizziness that hit him as he looked into the young man’s eyes. He knew those eyes. He should - he looked into them every time he looked in a mirror.
THE END
for now
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Chapter Forty One
Jon and Richie said goodbye just an hour or so after Jon had arrived. He’d done what he came here to do. He’d apologised to his friend, had made peace as best he could, and it was time for him to go see Dorothea. Time to find out if they still had ‘it’. For now, he’d leave the rest of the band. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he’d get in touch with the others. But right now he needed Dorothea. Needed to know.
As he left, Richie clapped a big hand onto his shoulder, squeezing slightly.
“I’ll see ya later, bro.” He said, the next words muttered in that kind of self-conscious way guys always seemed to use for things they didn’t want to mention. “And if you get to feeling…….y’know…..you know where I am, right?”
“Yeah.” Jon grinned at him, grateful to have Richie’s support again. “I know. Thanks, Rich.”
He’d called for another cab, and it was waiting impatiently at the curb, so he just nodded once more to Richie and headed down the steps, out to the cab, carrying the black saddlebag.
Throwing himself into the backseat, Jon gave the driver the address for his apartment. Hoping like hell to find Dorothea there. He didn’t like to think of the implications if she’d moved out. During the trip, he rehearsed what he’d say to her - assuming she was there. How he’d explain himself, explain how he felt like he was ‘back’. Of course, he wouldn’t go into too many details of just how he’d been helped back. Some things, well, even he had the common sense to keep to himself. One of those things was the fact that another woman had brought him to his senses. In more ways than one.
The cab pulled to a halt outside the address, and Jon paid off the driver, climbing out and only now realising that Dot had better be there - because he didn’t even have a key to his own door. The keys to the Malibu house were buried at the bottom of his saddlebag, but nothing for this apartment. Luckily, the guy working the door recognised him - long, unruly hair, ripped jeans and all - and opened the door politely.
“Mr Bongiovi. Welcome back.”
“Thanks…….” Jon stepped inside, his memory serving him well now. “You look good, Danny. How’s the family?”
“They’re good, thanks, sir.” The doorman smiled. “Should I call upstairs? Let Miss Hurley know you’re on your way up?”
“Naw. I’ll surprise her.” Jon grinned, relief washing through him at the confirmation Dot was actually here.
With a final nod to the doorman, he headed to the stairs. He may be feeling a whole lot better, but he wasn’t about to chance his luck in the elevator just yet. The exercise he’d been getting at Billie’s - the riding and the ranch chores - had kept him fit, and he took the flights almost at a run, desperate to see Dorothea now he knew she was so close.
Emerging onto his floor, Jon caught his breath on the short walk along the hallway, saddlebags still in his hand as he knocked on his own door. He heard a voice inside, approaching the door, and a sudden terror hit him. A fear that another guy would open the door. A fear that, while he’d been with Billie, someone else had been with Dorothea. It wasn’t a completely irrational thought - Dorothea was a beautiful girl - but even right now Jon realised how hypocritical it was. Okay for him to fuck around, but not for her? He just hoped he was wrong, because if a guy opened that door he wasn’t entirely sure whether it’d break his heart or he’d just beat the shit out of him.
He heard the click of the lock, the voice continuing, though he could now tell it was Dot’s voice. He just didn’t know who she was talking to. Moments later, he got his answer, as she pulled the door open, holding the cordless phone to her ear, her voice drying up as she saw who was standing there.
Jon grinned at her, a tiny worry in his eyes, and Dot’s eyes scoured his face, seeing the relaxation and the glow of happiness in him again.
“Mom…..I’ll call you back…….” She didn’t even wait for a response, just clicked the button on the phone, still gazing at him. “Jonny.”
“Dot.” He breathed, grinning.
She took a step back, inviting him in, and Jon stepped forward, ready to begin his planned speech, but he stepped into the scent of her perfume and his words came out as a groan.
“Dot.” He said again, reaching for her, and as he tossed the saddlebag to the floor Dot dropped the phone, grabbing at him.
The door still lay open as he pushed her against the wall, kissing her hungrily, Dot whimpering and pulling him closer, then she pulled back a fraction.
“Door.” She mumbled against his lips, and Jon flicked a glance to the side, swinging his hand to slam the door.
Kissing her again, he shifted his grip, picking her up in his arms and heading to the bedroom.
That evening, over pizza and beer, they finally got around to talking, their bodies exhausted for now. Speaking earnestly, Jon told Dorothea he’d been to see Richie, and that they’d made a good start on getting their friendship back on track. Looking deep into her eyes, he asked quietly if they could get back on track, too. Dot didn’t even hesitate, just reached across the table to take his hand.
“Of course we can.” She whispered.
There was no need for him to know that she’d sought comfort in another man’s arms - another man’s bed - while he’d been gone. He’d come back to her. That was all that mattered. At her words, that true Jonny grin spread across his face, his eyes dancing again.
“Whaddya say we go…….seal the deal…..?” He smirked, standing and lifting her from her chair, pulling her toward the bedroom once more.
Giggling, Dot went with him.
Months had now passed. Months where Jon had written and recorded a solo record - a soundtrack to Emilio’s Young Guns movie, since ‘Wanted’ just didn’t fit the story - and Richie had penned his own solo album, Undiscovered Soul, though it was yet to be released. Jon had met each of the band members individually, apologising to them and asking each if they still wanted to work with him. To a man, they’d said yes, though Tico had given him serious shit about his attitude. Jon had even gone to the extent of contacting a mediator, having the guy sit down with all of them together to work out their differences, but mostly it was just his obvious remorse that won them over. They’d agreed to go their separate ways for a bit, hence the solo projects, but the band that never quit looked like going on for a bit longer.
Tonight, Jon was nervous. His song, Blaze of Glory, had been nominated for an Academy Award, and he was sitting in the crowd at the ceremony, wishing that he had Richie’s presence to reassure him. As it was, his parents were there, though Dot was stuck back in Jersey, a severe flu keeping her in bed. And keeping him out of her bed, since she refused to let him get sick when the awards ceremony was looming. Knowing that the cameras were circling, showing random crowd shots during each award, Jon kept smiling, kept the boredom from showing, applauding for each winner as they were announced.
In Kansas, Billie was tucked up in her bed with the TV on, as she’d been doing for some time now - barely able to summon the energy to deal with Drummer most days, but forcing herself to get on with it. Carrie had tried to get her to come out tonight, but Billie reminded her of her usual ‘family’ tradition, and Carrie let it go. Which was why Billie was lying back with a bowl of popcorn and a diet coke, watching the Oscars ceremony as she always had. Even when she was very young, her parents always let her stay up late to watch this one thing, and they always made their own little party of it, with popcorn and snacks and way too much sugar.
Her attention was only half on the screen tonight, though, as the ache in her back was distracting her, Deke lying on the bed next to her with his chin on her thigh. She shifted on the bed, making herself more comfortable, her eyes on the screen again as they announced the next award, for best original song. The cameras flicked to each nominee in turn after a video portion of their song, showing Stephen Sondheim for his Dick Tracy hit, then showing a long-haired guy in tight leather pants, the backview reminding her of the man who’d been in her life for a short time, making her smile sadly.
“….and for Blaze of Glory, Jon Bon Jovi……” Came the announcer’s voice, and the camera switched to a shot of a very familiar face.
“What the fuck?!” Billie jolted upright, popcorn flying across the bed, startling Deke as she stared at the screen in disbelief. “Jon?”
Almost as though he heard her say his name, the impossibly blue eyes turned to the camera, and the grin he gave confirmed beyond doubt that, yes, the cute guy she’d had staying at her ranch was, in fact, not a simple biker, but something altogether different.
As he left, Richie clapped a big hand onto his shoulder, squeezing slightly.
“I’ll see ya later, bro.” He said, the next words muttered in that kind of self-conscious way guys always seemed to use for things they didn’t want to mention. “And if you get to feeling…….y’know…..you know where I am, right?”
“Yeah.” Jon grinned at him, grateful to have Richie’s support again. “I know. Thanks, Rich.”
He’d called for another cab, and it was waiting impatiently at the curb, so he just nodded once more to Richie and headed down the steps, out to the cab, carrying the black saddlebag.
Throwing himself into the backseat, Jon gave the driver the address for his apartment. Hoping like hell to find Dorothea there. He didn’t like to think of the implications if she’d moved out. During the trip, he rehearsed what he’d say to her - assuming she was there. How he’d explain himself, explain how he felt like he was ‘back’. Of course, he wouldn’t go into too many details of just how he’d been helped back. Some things, well, even he had the common sense to keep to himself. One of those things was the fact that another woman had brought him to his senses. In more ways than one.
The cab pulled to a halt outside the address, and Jon paid off the driver, climbing out and only now realising that Dot had better be there - because he didn’t even have a key to his own door. The keys to the Malibu house were buried at the bottom of his saddlebag, but nothing for this apartment. Luckily, the guy working the door recognised him - long, unruly hair, ripped jeans and all - and opened the door politely.
“Mr Bongiovi. Welcome back.”
“Thanks…….” Jon stepped inside, his memory serving him well now. “You look good, Danny. How’s the family?”
“They’re good, thanks, sir.” The doorman smiled. “Should I call upstairs? Let Miss Hurley know you’re on your way up?”
“Naw. I’ll surprise her.” Jon grinned, relief washing through him at the confirmation Dot was actually here.
With a final nod to the doorman, he headed to the stairs. He may be feeling a whole lot better, but he wasn’t about to chance his luck in the elevator just yet. The exercise he’d been getting at Billie’s - the riding and the ranch chores - had kept him fit, and he took the flights almost at a run, desperate to see Dorothea now he knew she was so close.
Emerging onto his floor, Jon caught his breath on the short walk along the hallway, saddlebags still in his hand as he knocked on his own door. He heard a voice inside, approaching the door, and a sudden terror hit him. A fear that another guy would open the door. A fear that, while he’d been with Billie, someone else had been with Dorothea. It wasn’t a completely irrational thought - Dorothea was a beautiful girl - but even right now Jon realised how hypocritical it was. Okay for him to fuck around, but not for her? He just hoped he was wrong, because if a guy opened that door he wasn’t entirely sure whether it’d break his heart or he’d just beat the shit out of him.
He heard the click of the lock, the voice continuing, though he could now tell it was Dot’s voice. He just didn’t know who she was talking to. Moments later, he got his answer, as she pulled the door open, holding the cordless phone to her ear, her voice drying up as she saw who was standing there.
Jon grinned at her, a tiny worry in his eyes, and Dot’s eyes scoured his face, seeing the relaxation and the glow of happiness in him again.
“Mom…..I’ll call you back…….” She didn’t even wait for a response, just clicked the button on the phone, still gazing at him. “Jonny.”
“Dot.” He breathed, grinning.
She took a step back, inviting him in, and Jon stepped forward, ready to begin his planned speech, but he stepped into the scent of her perfume and his words came out as a groan.
“Dot.” He said again, reaching for her, and as he tossed the saddlebag to the floor Dot dropped the phone, grabbing at him.
The door still lay open as he pushed her against the wall, kissing her hungrily, Dot whimpering and pulling him closer, then she pulled back a fraction.
“Door.” She mumbled against his lips, and Jon flicked a glance to the side, swinging his hand to slam the door.
Kissing her again, he shifted his grip, picking her up in his arms and heading to the bedroom.
That evening, over pizza and beer, they finally got around to talking, their bodies exhausted for now. Speaking earnestly, Jon told Dorothea he’d been to see Richie, and that they’d made a good start on getting their friendship back on track. Looking deep into her eyes, he asked quietly if they could get back on track, too. Dot didn’t even hesitate, just reached across the table to take his hand.
“Of course we can.” She whispered.
There was no need for him to know that she’d sought comfort in another man’s arms - another man’s bed - while he’d been gone. He’d come back to her. That was all that mattered. At her words, that true Jonny grin spread across his face, his eyes dancing again.
“Whaddya say we go…….seal the deal…..?” He smirked, standing and lifting her from her chair, pulling her toward the bedroom once more.
Giggling, Dot went with him.
Months had now passed. Months where Jon had written and recorded a solo record - a soundtrack to Emilio’s Young Guns movie, since ‘Wanted’ just didn’t fit the story - and Richie had penned his own solo album, Undiscovered Soul, though it was yet to be released. Jon had met each of the band members individually, apologising to them and asking each if they still wanted to work with him. To a man, they’d said yes, though Tico had given him serious shit about his attitude. Jon had even gone to the extent of contacting a mediator, having the guy sit down with all of them together to work out their differences, but mostly it was just his obvious remorse that won them over. They’d agreed to go their separate ways for a bit, hence the solo projects, but the band that never quit looked like going on for a bit longer.
Tonight, Jon was nervous. His song, Blaze of Glory, had been nominated for an Academy Award, and he was sitting in the crowd at the ceremony, wishing that he had Richie’s presence to reassure him. As it was, his parents were there, though Dot was stuck back in Jersey, a severe flu keeping her in bed. And keeping him out of her bed, since she refused to let him get sick when the awards ceremony was looming. Knowing that the cameras were circling, showing random crowd shots during each award, Jon kept smiling, kept the boredom from showing, applauding for each winner as they were announced.
In Kansas, Billie was tucked up in her bed with the TV on, as she’d been doing for some time now - barely able to summon the energy to deal with Drummer most days, but forcing herself to get on with it. Carrie had tried to get her to come out tonight, but Billie reminded her of her usual ‘family’ tradition, and Carrie let it go. Which was why Billie was lying back with a bowl of popcorn and a diet coke, watching the Oscars ceremony as she always had. Even when she was very young, her parents always let her stay up late to watch this one thing, and they always made their own little party of it, with popcorn and snacks and way too much sugar.
Her attention was only half on the screen tonight, though, as the ache in her back was distracting her, Deke lying on the bed next to her with his chin on her thigh. She shifted on the bed, making herself more comfortable, her eyes on the screen again as they announced the next award, for best original song. The cameras flicked to each nominee in turn after a video portion of their song, showing Stephen Sondheim for his Dick Tracy hit, then showing a long-haired guy in tight leather pants, the backview reminding her of the man who’d been in her life for a short time, making her smile sadly.
“….and for Blaze of Glory, Jon Bon Jovi……” Came the announcer’s voice, and the camera switched to a shot of a very familiar face.
“What the fuck?!” Billie jolted upright, popcorn flying across the bed, startling Deke as she stared at the screen in disbelief. “Jon?”
Almost as though he heard her say his name, the impossibly blue eyes turned to the camera, and the grin he gave confirmed beyond doubt that, yes, the cute guy she’d had staying at her ranch was, in fact, not a simple biker, but something altogether different.
Chapter Forty
Jon stood nervously, not sure whether to duck or just get the hell out of there, but the look on Richie’s face was more nonplussed than angry, and Jon quickly spoke again.
“Bro, I owe you an apology.” He grimaced. “More than one.”
And with that, Richie’s face softened fractionally. It wasn’t as though he was instantly forgiving Jon for all the shit he’d put them through, but the immediate apology was enough to make him willing to listen. Willing to find out what Jon wanted to say. Plus, if the truth were told, he’d missed his friend. Missed him for the better part of the last year, since Jon started spiralling into his rockstar-pissy-primadonna phase, since he stopped being Richie’s friend and became as close to an enemy as Richie had. The last month or so, since the tour ended, he’d missed the guy he knew, but not the Jon who’d been on the road, because that guy was the prick who’d been tearing them all apart.
All that showed on his face, though, during all those thoughts, was a relaxation of the taut lines around his eyes, not enough to allay Jon’s worries. Richie’s next words reassured him a little, though, as the taller man stepped back.
“I’m listenin’.” He moved into the room. “Shut the fuckin’ door, too.”
Relief washing through him, Jon walked into the room and closed the door, automatically taking a seat where he always had, when he and Richie wrote here. Richie sat on the end of his bed, looking across to where Jon sat slouched in the battered armchair, the scene so familiar to them both.
“So?” Richie prompted. He may be willing to listen, but he’d be damned if he was going to make it too easy for Jon.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, last few weeks.” Jon began, knowing Richie was used enough to his rambling to just let him talk it out. “And I know what a prick I was being, last few months of the tour. I was treating you - all of you - like shit, and I’m sorry. For all of it.”
He looked over at Richie, seeing partial acceptance of the apology, but his friend’s dark eyes were also asking for more, so he carried on talking. Carried on explaining what he’d only recently come to understand himself.
“Dot came out to California, few weeks ago, and I think that’s what saved me. Or started saving me. When she came out, she gave me a verbal ass-kicking and forced me to take a good long hard look in the mirror.” He lowered his head, staring at his hands as he fidgeted uncomfortably, then raising his eyes to look at Richie. “I didn’t like what I saw.”
“Join the club.” Richie interrupted softly.
“Yeah. Anyway, she made me think, for the first time in months, about what I actually wanted. Not with the band, or the business, or anything but me. She made me stop and think about what I wanted.”
Richie couldn’t help it, staring at Jon incredulously, his voice loud and abrasive as he almost yelled at him.
“Anything but you? What the fuck d’you think you’d been doin’ the last few months, but thinkin’ just about yourself?!”
Richie’s face darkened angrily, his fists clenching in a way that worried Jon. Worried him a lot, but still he knew, if Richie came at him, he’d sit there and take it. God knew, he deserved it.
“I didn’t mean it that way. I…..”
“Oh, excuse me!” Richie spat sarcastically. “Of course, I’m fuckin’ wrong. Nothin’ new there. The gospel according to Bongiovi, right? Toe the line or get the fuck out. You selfish little prick, Jon. Did you ever even think about how you were affecting me? Affecting the band.” He corrected himself quickly, but Jon got the message loud and clear, squeezing his eyes shut as Richie’s anger brought out the truth. Brought out the hurt he’d caused.
“Dammit, Richie - I’m trying to apologise. Not doing a great fucking job of it, obviously, but I’m trying! Will you let me finish?” He raised his hands. “Let me finish, then if you still wanna beat the shit outta me, then go for it. It’s no more than I deserve.”
Richie blew out an angry breath, forcing his hands to relax, running them through his hair, fighting down the anger.
“Fine.” He muttered. “I’m listening.”
Jon took a deep breath and continued.
“When Dot asked me what I wanted, the only thing I could think was that I wanted to get away. Get away from everything and everyone. Everyone except her. So we did. We took the bike and just lit out. Doc decided he was coming, too, which didn’t really help too much.” Jon shrugged. “After a couple weeks, when I……..uh….. when things just weren’t working out……..Dot told me to go on alone. Sent me off in the night, and she headed back home here with Doc.”
“I saw her.” Richie offered grudgingly. “Last week. Maybe week before. But she didn’t say much.”
That was his Dot, Jon thought. Protecting him from everyone, now that she wasn’t protecting him from himself.
“She wouldn’t, would she?” Jon said, both of them knowing she’d walk on broken glass for her man. All he could hope was that he was still that man. “I don’t fucking deserve her, Richie. Most women would be more than happy to give you chapter and verse on how fucked up I was when she found me in Malibu. How she found me lying stinking in my bed. How I hadn’t eaten in a week. Hadn’t showered in even longer. How the only thing I’d done was drink whiskey and feel sorry for myself.”
Richie looked at him closely, seeing that he was being completely honest. This was no whining, feel-sorry-for-me act, but Jon was telling him the exact truth of how low he’d sunk. It actually made Richie feel bad, that he’d been hating his friend so much, never able to see past his own hurt to see that, however much he hated Jon, Jon hated himself even more. Never able to see the dark depression that Jon had fallen into. It had taken a woman - Jon’s woman - to see it, and to drag him out of it enough that he could start to help himself. Could start to heal.
“Nah.” Richie stretched slightly, loosening the tense muscles of his back, already feeling their friendship starting to re-establish itself. His voice was far friendlier as he spoke again. “Go on. Dot sent you off into the night…….?”
“Yeah.” Jon had to start being a little more careful of what he said now. He didn’t intend telling even Richie about Billie. “I rode a while longer, and it was getting better, being alone. Then I hooked up with a rancher, out in the middle of Kansas. I was fixing to just sleep a night out in the desert, but after they told me I’d probably wake up coyote food I figured to find a hotel instead. Since there weren’t any for miles, I got myself invited to sleep over at the ranch.”
The wistful expression on his face made Richie wonder about the ‘rancher’, but he didn’t ask, just let Jon continue.
“I stayed there for a few nights - helped out a bit around the place to pay my way - then decided it was time to get back to reality. So here I am.” He reddened slightly. “I called Cher, to find out where you were, then decided to come here first.”
“Jesus! You must’ve been feeling brave if you called Cher - she hates you, man.” Richie chuckled, then frowned a little. “You haven’t been to see Dot?”
“No. She’ll understand. She knows I fucked up with all you guys, so she’ll understand I needed to come apologise to you first. I need to get in touch with Teek, Dave and Alec, too.”
“Yeah. You probably wanna go see Teek first.” Richie suggested. “He got almost as pissed at you as I was. In fact, last time I punched you out, he walked away and let me get on with it.”
“I remember.” Jon muttered, wincing at the memory of the asshole he’d been for so long, then he looked Richie straight in the eyes. “Are we still friends?”
“I think so.” Richie said carefully. There’d have to be a bit more water under the bridge before he’d be completely sure.
Jon nodded, understanding. “That’s the best I can ask right now. For a while there I thought the band was finished. Thought our friendship was finished.”
“Which one bothered you more?” Richie asked curiously, but Jon didn’t hesitate.
“That we weren’t friends any more. The band - the business - the money I didn’t give a fuck about any more. Just couldn’t seem to remember why we - I - wanted it so much. I guess I have to thank Billie for putting things back in perspective for me.”
“Billy?” Richie frowned. “Who’s Billy?”
Jon cursed himself silently. So much for not mentioning her, huh? Still, he was just lucky that her name could be taken two ways.
“The rancher. Billie.”
“Oh. Right.”
Getting to his feet, Jon moved restlessly around the room, Richie watching him as he tried to figure out what he was going to say next. Finally plucking up the courage, he turned to the guitarist.
“Do you want to carry on with the band?” Jon blurted, and Richie nodded slowly.
“If you want me to.” He said carefully.
“Ah, shit, that’s not how I meant it.” Jon shook his head. “I meant…….do you think the band should stay together? Do you think we can do it again? Still do it?”
“Yeah, I do. But I think we all need to take some time and space from each other, Jon.” His face was - unusually for Richie - serious. “Last few years, we’ve worked together, played together. Hell, even if we weren’t working we vacationed together! I think we’ve proved that’s not healthy.”
“Amen to that.”
“Yeah. So maybe we just need to take some time out. Do our own thing for a little while, then all get together again without the pressure.”
What Richie wasn’t saying, of course, was take a bit of time to allow the memories to dim a little, to stop the anger building again. He didn’t need to say it. Jon knew.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe we need to do stuff on our own for a bit.” He smiled slightly. “It’d let you get on and work on that record you’re always talking about.”
“I have been, kinda.” Richie said, nodding toward the sheets of paper scattered on his bed.
“Cool.” Jon hesitated, but he didn’t want to step on Richie’s toes. He’d fucked up enough already. “When - if - you wanna, let me hear it, ‘kay?”
“Sure.” Richie remembered something he hadn’t been sure he’d ever get a chance to tell Jon. “Hey - Cher had a call from somebody who knew somebody who knew somebody…….you know how it goes in Hollyweird…….and they were asking about ‘Wanted’ for a movie.”
“Yeah? What movie?”
“Not sure. Some Billy the Kid thing I think. Emilio’s doing it.”
“Did you talk to him about it?”
“Nope. Haven’t had the time. You should, though. You’re the businessman, Jon - I just play guitar.”
They both laughed, then Jon walked over to Richie, holding out his hand.
“I’ll say it for the last time. I’m sorry, Rich.”
Richie looked at the outstretched hand for a moment, then shook it firmly. “Apology accepted.”
Richie got to his feet and he and Jon hugged like the brothers they should’ve been, the hug heartfelt and sincere. Letting each other go, they stepped back, neither of them ever embarrassed at showing their feelings toward the other. Even now, after their falling out.
Grinning at Jon, Richie turned to the door. “Wanna beer?”
“Just one.” Jon replied. “Then I gotta go see Dot.”
They headed up into the kitchen, helping themselves to beer from the fridge as Mrs Sambora looked at them both before smiling.
“You boys hungry?”
“Bro, I owe you an apology.” He grimaced. “More than one.”
And with that, Richie’s face softened fractionally. It wasn’t as though he was instantly forgiving Jon for all the shit he’d put them through, but the immediate apology was enough to make him willing to listen. Willing to find out what Jon wanted to say. Plus, if the truth were told, he’d missed his friend. Missed him for the better part of the last year, since Jon started spiralling into his rockstar-pissy-primadonna phase, since he stopped being Richie’s friend and became as close to an enemy as Richie had. The last month or so, since the tour ended, he’d missed the guy he knew, but not the Jon who’d been on the road, because that guy was the prick who’d been tearing them all apart.
All that showed on his face, though, during all those thoughts, was a relaxation of the taut lines around his eyes, not enough to allay Jon’s worries. Richie’s next words reassured him a little, though, as the taller man stepped back.
“I’m listenin’.” He moved into the room. “Shut the fuckin’ door, too.”
Relief washing through him, Jon walked into the room and closed the door, automatically taking a seat where he always had, when he and Richie wrote here. Richie sat on the end of his bed, looking across to where Jon sat slouched in the battered armchair, the scene so familiar to them both.
“So?” Richie prompted. He may be willing to listen, but he’d be damned if he was going to make it too easy for Jon.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, last few weeks.” Jon began, knowing Richie was used enough to his rambling to just let him talk it out. “And I know what a prick I was being, last few months of the tour. I was treating you - all of you - like shit, and I’m sorry. For all of it.”
He looked over at Richie, seeing partial acceptance of the apology, but his friend’s dark eyes were also asking for more, so he carried on talking. Carried on explaining what he’d only recently come to understand himself.
“Dot came out to California, few weeks ago, and I think that’s what saved me. Or started saving me. When she came out, she gave me a verbal ass-kicking and forced me to take a good long hard look in the mirror.” He lowered his head, staring at his hands as he fidgeted uncomfortably, then raising his eyes to look at Richie. “I didn’t like what I saw.”
“Join the club.” Richie interrupted softly.
“Yeah. Anyway, she made me think, for the first time in months, about what I actually wanted. Not with the band, or the business, or anything but me. She made me stop and think about what I wanted.”
Richie couldn’t help it, staring at Jon incredulously, his voice loud and abrasive as he almost yelled at him.
“Anything but you? What the fuck d’you think you’d been doin’ the last few months, but thinkin’ just about yourself?!”
Richie’s face darkened angrily, his fists clenching in a way that worried Jon. Worried him a lot, but still he knew, if Richie came at him, he’d sit there and take it. God knew, he deserved it.
“I didn’t mean it that way. I…..”
“Oh, excuse me!” Richie spat sarcastically. “Of course, I’m fuckin’ wrong. Nothin’ new there. The gospel according to Bongiovi, right? Toe the line or get the fuck out. You selfish little prick, Jon. Did you ever even think about how you were affecting me? Affecting the band.” He corrected himself quickly, but Jon got the message loud and clear, squeezing his eyes shut as Richie’s anger brought out the truth. Brought out the hurt he’d caused.
“Dammit, Richie - I’m trying to apologise. Not doing a great fucking job of it, obviously, but I’m trying! Will you let me finish?” He raised his hands. “Let me finish, then if you still wanna beat the shit outta me, then go for it. It’s no more than I deserve.”
Richie blew out an angry breath, forcing his hands to relax, running them through his hair, fighting down the anger.
“Fine.” He muttered. “I’m listening.”
Jon took a deep breath and continued.
“When Dot asked me what I wanted, the only thing I could think was that I wanted to get away. Get away from everything and everyone. Everyone except her. So we did. We took the bike and just lit out. Doc decided he was coming, too, which didn’t really help too much.” Jon shrugged. “After a couple weeks, when I……..uh….. when things just weren’t working out……..Dot told me to go on alone. Sent me off in the night, and she headed back home here with Doc.”
“I saw her.” Richie offered grudgingly. “Last week. Maybe week before. But she didn’t say much.”
That was his Dot, Jon thought. Protecting him from everyone, now that she wasn’t protecting him from himself.
“She wouldn’t, would she?” Jon said, both of them knowing she’d walk on broken glass for her man. All he could hope was that he was still that man. “I don’t fucking deserve her, Richie. Most women would be more than happy to give you chapter and verse on how fucked up I was when she found me in Malibu. How she found me lying stinking in my bed. How I hadn’t eaten in a week. Hadn’t showered in even longer. How the only thing I’d done was drink whiskey and feel sorry for myself.”
Richie looked at him closely, seeing that he was being completely honest. This was no whining, feel-sorry-for-me act, but Jon was telling him the exact truth of how low he’d sunk. It actually made Richie feel bad, that he’d been hating his friend so much, never able to see past his own hurt to see that, however much he hated Jon, Jon hated himself even more. Never able to see the dark depression that Jon had fallen into. It had taken a woman - Jon’s woman - to see it, and to drag him out of it enough that he could start to help himself. Could start to heal.
“Nah.” Richie stretched slightly, loosening the tense muscles of his back, already feeling their friendship starting to re-establish itself. His voice was far friendlier as he spoke again. “Go on. Dot sent you off into the night…….?”
“Yeah.” Jon had to start being a little more careful of what he said now. He didn’t intend telling even Richie about Billie. “I rode a while longer, and it was getting better, being alone. Then I hooked up with a rancher, out in the middle of Kansas. I was fixing to just sleep a night out in the desert, but after they told me I’d probably wake up coyote food I figured to find a hotel instead. Since there weren’t any for miles, I got myself invited to sleep over at the ranch.”
The wistful expression on his face made Richie wonder about the ‘rancher’, but he didn’t ask, just let Jon continue.
“I stayed there for a few nights - helped out a bit around the place to pay my way - then decided it was time to get back to reality. So here I am.” He reddened slightly. “I called Cher, to find out where you were, then decided to come here first.”
“Jesus! You must’ve been feeling brave if you called Cher - she hates you, man.” Richie chuckled, then frowned a little. “You haven’t been to see Dot?”
“No. She’ll understand. She knows I fucked up with all you guys, so she’ll understand I needed to come apologise to you first. I need to get in touch with Teek, Dave and Alec, too.”
“Yeah. You probably wanna go see Teek first.” Richie suggested. “He got almost as pissed at you as I was. In fact, last time I punched you out, he walked away and let me get on with it.”
“I remember.” Jon muttered, wincing at the memory of the asshole he’d been for so long, then he looked Richie straight in the eyes. “Are we still friends?”
“I think so.” Richie said carefully. There’d have to be a bit more water under the bridge before he’d be completely sure.
Jon nodded, understanding. “That’s the best I can ask right now. For a while there I thought the band was finished. Thought our friendship was finished.”
“Which one bothered you more?” Richie asked curiously, but Jon didn’t hesitate.
“That we weren’t friends any more. The band - the business - the money I didn’t give a fuck about any more. Just couldn’t seem to remember why we - I - wanted it so much. I guess I have to thank Billie for putting things back in perspective for me.”
“Billy?” Richie frowned. “Who’s Billy?”
Jon cursed himself silently. So much for not mentioning her, huh? Still, he was just lucky that her name could be taken two ways.
“The rancher. Billie.”
“Oh. Right.”
Getting to his feet, Jon moved restlessly around the room, Richie watching him as he tried to figure out what he was going to say next. Finally plucking up the courage, he turned to the guitarist.
“Do you want to carry on with the band?” Jon blurted, and Richie nodded slowly.
“If you want me to.” He said carefully.
“Ah, shit, that’s not how I meant it.” Jon shook his head. “I meant…….do you think the band should stay together? Do you think we can do it again? Still do it?”
“Yeah, I do. But I think we all need to take some time and space from each other, Jon.” His face was - unusually for Richie - serious. “Last few years, we’ve worked together, played together. Hell, even if we weren’t working we vacationed together! I think we’ve proved that’s not healthy.”
“Amen to that.”
“Yeah. So maybe we just need to take some time out. Do our own thing for a little while, then all get together again without the pressure.”
What Richie wasn’t saying, of course, was take a bit of time to allow the memories to dim a little, to stop the anger building again. He didn’t need to say it. Jon knew.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe we need to do stuff on our own for a bit.” He smiled slightly. “It’d let you get on and work on that record you’re always talking about.”
“I have been, kinda.” Richie said, nodding toward the sheets of paper scattered on his bed.
“Cool.” Jon hesitated, but he didn’t want to step on Richie’s toes. He’d fucked up enough already. “When - if - you wanna, let me hear it, ‘kay?”
“Sure.” Richie remembered something he hadn’t been sure he’d ever get a chance to tell Jon. “Hey - Cher had a call from somebody who knew somebody who knew somebody…….you know how it goes in Hollyweird…….and they were asking about ‘Wanted’ for a movie.”
“Yeah? What movie?”
“Not sure. Some Billy the Kid thing I think. Emilio’s doing it.”
“Did you talk to him about it?”
“Nope. Haven’t had the time. You should, though. You’re the businessman, Jon - I just play guitar.”
They both laughed, then Jon walked over to Richie, holding out his hand.
“I’ll say it for the last time. I’m sorry, Rich.”
Richie looked at the outstretched hand for a moment, then shook it firmly. “Apology accepted.”
Richie got to his feet and he and Jon hugged like the brothers they should’ve been, the hug heartfelt and sincere. Letting each other go, they stepped back, neither of them ever embarrassed at showing their feelings toward the other. Even now, after their falling out.
Grinning at Jon, Richie turned to the door. “Wanna beer?”
“Just one.” Jon replied. “Then I gotta go see Dot.”
They headed up into the kitchen, helping themselves to beer from the fridge as Mrs Sambora looked at them both before smiling.
“You boys hungry?”
Chapter Thirty Nine
After Jon and Billie had eased themselves apart, she sat up in the bed, stroking back his tangled hair.
“Why don’t you grab the shower first, and I’ll fix some breakfast.” She suggested.
“You sure?”
“Uh-huh.” She smiled, just a little sad. “Don’t take too long or I’ll…….”
“Feed it to Dekey?”
“You got it.”
Sliding from the bed, Billie headed quickly to the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later wrapped in a robe, heading to the kitchen. Jon was in the living room, pulling clean jeans and shirt from the black saddlebag, and he smiled silently at Billie as he headed for the shower.
In the kitchen, Billie started coffee - the most important part of the morning - then opened the fridge, gazing inside as she tried to figure out what to cook. Minutes later, she realised she’d been staring blindly into the fridge, her eyes on the food but her mind on Jon, and his imminent departure from her life. She sighed. She knew it was right. Knew he had to go. But that didn’t stop it hurting.
Jon showered slowly, wishing there was some way he could find to stay, but knowing it was time to leave. Best to leave now, while they still enjoyed each other. Better to go, when it still hurt just a little, than to linger here until they either hated each other or the pain of leaving was too much to bear. For as much as he liked Billie, his real life was calling him back. The need to get back to who he truly was - back to writing and singing and performing - was getting stronger with every passing day, and right now felt right to leave. Besides which, his most pressing concern right now was to see Richie, to try to make things right with him.
He finished showering, standing with a towel around his waist while he cleaned his teeth, then he pulled on his clothes, folding the wet towel neatly onto the edge of the bath. When he left the bathroom he went to the living room, dropping his toothbrush into the saddlebag before going to the kitchen.
Breakfast was a subdued affair, Billie having fixed bacon, eggs and some frozen hash browns, and she stayed quiet, forcing herself not to say what she was feeling. Not to say she didn’t want him to leave. Jon could feel it, though, and he respected her for the restraint, glad of it, really, because it wouldn’t take much persuasion right now for him to stay. Finishing the last of his coffee, he took his plate and mug to the sink, stopping behind Billie when he returned to the table.
“I guess I should go.” He murmured, and she nodded.
“I guess.” Billie turned to face him, forcing herself to smile. “Time for you to hit the road, cowboy.”
“Still a cowboy?”
“Uh-huh.” Her nose wrinkled in a more genuine smile as Jon pulled her to her feet, pulling her into his arms.
“Thank you.” He said sincerely, gazing at her.
“I didn’t do anything. It was just breakfast.”
“Not what I meant.” He bumped her forehead with his. “And you know it.”
“I know it.” Billie agreed.
“Thanks for putting me up…..for putting up with me. Thanks for letting me find the real me again.” Jon grinned as a phrase jumped into his head. “Thanks for helping me put the boy back in the cowboy.”
“Thanks for helping me with the hay…..and for helping Deke.” Billie replied. “Now will you go before I get all sappy?”
“You and me both, darlin’.” Jon murmured. “Kiss me goodbye, then I’ll go.”
They kissed deeply, taking leave of each other in the wet melding of lips and tongues, parting slowly and with a sense of finality. Jon rested his forehead on Billie’s for a moment, feeling her hands gently rubbing his back, then he straightened away from her, pasting on a grin that he didn’t feel like.
“Bye, cowgirl.”
“Bye, cowboy.”
With that, he headed to the living room, grabbing the saddlebag and his leather jacket, pausing at the front door to pull on his boots, then leaving the house. He walked to the garage, wheeling the bike out and fastening the saddlebag back in place, then he quickly checked the bike before straddling the seat, starting the engine.
As he rode the bike slowly past the house, he saw Billie on the porch, still wrapped in the robe, a fresh mug of coffee in her hands. Her hair was tangled around her face, but he was pretty sure he could see the shine of tears trailing down her face. Without halting the bike, Jon raised a hand in a wave, and Billie immediately waved back, smiling broadly. And falsely.
Keeping the bike at a low speed, Jon rode down the track to the highway, watching Billie in the bike mirror until a curve took him out of sight of the house. Sighing, he opened the throttle another fraction as he left her there.
At the house, Billie watched him leave, and only once he was out of sight did she wipe the tears from her face. She sat heavily on one of the porch chairs, and Deke came across to her, laying his head on her knee, not sure why his mistress was sad, but staying close anyway. Smiling sadly, Billie laid a hand on his head, stroking gently. After a few minutes, hearing Drummer’s impatient whinny, she shook herself out of the sadness and headed inside to dress. Time for her to get back to her own life, too.
Jon rode to the feed store - it was in the right direction anyway - to use the payphone there, as he wasn’t sure where he’d find another. Halting the bike near the phone, he flicked off the ignition and got off the bike, walking slowly to the phone. After going through the usual question-and-answer session with the operator, she accepted his credit card and he dialled the long series of numbers, waiting while it rang, closing his eyes when a familiar female voice answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Jon.” There was silence at the other end. A brittle, hostile silence, forcing him to speak again. “Is Richie there?”
In California, the striking face of Richie’s current girlfriend - though girl wasn’t really appropriate for her - hardened.
“No, he’s not.” Cher replied, not even trying to hide her dislike of Jon.
Like pulling teeth, Jon thought, clenching his jaw, forcing himself to stay civil or he’d get no help from her.
“Do you know where he is? I was hoping to see him.”
“He’s back home in Jersey, far as I know.” She replied. “He went to see his parents.”
That was almost good news, Jon thought. Not only did he not have to see Cher, to get past her to see Richie, but Jersey was a little closer than California. Besides which, he was headed that way anyway, to see Dorothea and his family.
“Thanks, Cher.” His voice was as warm as it ever got, talking to her. “I appreciate it.”
“I’m only telling you so he can beat the shit out of you.” She snapped.
“No more than I deserve.” Jon muttered, surprising Cher. “Bye.”
“Bye.” She echoed, laying down the phone. That had to be a first. Bongiovi actually sounding like a human being.
Hanging up the phone, Jon sighed. Looked like it could be a fun time when he got back to Jersey. He looked speculatively at the Harley. The roadtrip no longer felt like such fun. The slow pace across country would, he knew, irritate him, because he just needed to move forward now, so he picked up the phone again.
A couple of phone calls later and he was set. Ride to Wichita Airport where the Harley would be loaded onto a cargo plane bound for California, while Jon would board a flight home to Newark.
The travel plans worked out sweetly, with Jon arriving into Newark late in the evening and just booking into the nearest hotel for the night, too tired to think straight. In the morning, after a room service breakfast, he took a cab out to Richie’s parents’ house, paying off the driver and walking slowly up to the front door. Taking a deep breath, he knocked and waited.
After a few minutes, the door opened, and Joan Sambora stood looking at him, her expression neither angry nor particularly pleased to see him.
“Hi Mrs S.” Jon said nervously.
“Jon. How are you? You look well.”
“I’m good, thanks.” Jon cleared his throat. “Is he here?”
“Mm-hm. He’s in his room.” She stepped back, letting him in. Neither she or Adam had been given too many details of the falling out between her son and his friend, but she knew it had to have been something serious. Either way, they were both grown men and could sort it out themselves. “You know the way.”
“Thanks.” Jon entered the house. “Okay if I leave this here?”
“Of course.”
He laid the saddlebag down on the floor and immediately took off his boots, heading through the house in his socks, down the stairs to Richie’s basement bedroom. The door was closed, and Jon could hear the sound of a guitar through the panel. Still without a clue of what he was going to say to his friend, he knocked on the door.
Sitting on his bed, guitar on his lap, Richie looked up at the sound of the knock. His parents would knock out of politeness, but this seemed somehow different. Frowning, he laid the guitar down and got off the bed, crossing to open the door. What he saw outside was nothing that he expected - Jon standing there, trepidation on his face, waiting patiently.
“Hey.” Jon said, bracing himself for Richie’s reaction.
“Why don’t you grab the shower first, and I’ll fix some breakfast.” She suggested.
“You sure?”
“Uh-huh.” She smiled, just a little sad. “Don’t take too long or I’ll…….”
“Feed it to Dekey?”
“You got it.”
Sliding from the bed, Billie headed quickly to the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later wrapped in a robe, heading to the kitchen. Jon was in the living room, pulling clean jeans and shirt from the black saddlebag, and he smiled silently at Billie as he headed for the shower.
In the kitchen, Billie started coffee - the most important part of the morning - then opened the fridge, gazing inside as she tried to figure out what to cook. Minutes later, she realised she’d been staring blindly into the fridge, her eyes on the food but her mind on Jon, and his imminent departure from her life. She sighed. She knew it was right. Knew he had to go. But that didn’t stop it hurting.
Jon showered slowly, wishing there was some way he could find to stay, but knowing it was time to leave. Best to leave now, while they still enjoyed each other. Better to go, when it still hurt just a little, than to linger here until they either hated each other or the pain of leaving was too much to bear. For as much as he liked Billie, his real life was calling him back. The need to get back to who he truly was - back to writing and singing and performing - was getting stronger with every passing day, and right now felt right to leave. Besides which, his most pressing concern right now was to see Richie, to try to make things right with him.
He finished showering, standing with a towel around his waist while he cleaned his teeth, then he pulled on his clothes, folding the wet towel neatly onto the edge of the bath. When he left the bathroom he went to the living room, dropping his toothbrush into the saddlebag before going to the kitchen.
Breakfast was a subdued affair, Billie having fixed bacon, eggs and some frozen hash browns, and she stayed quiet, forcing herself not to say what she was feeling. Not to say she didn’t want him to leave. Jon could feel it, though, and he respected her for the restraint, glad of it, really, because it wouldn’t take much persuasion right now for him to stay. Finishing the last of his coffee, he took his plate and mug to the sink, stopping behind Billie when he returned to the table.
“I guess I should go.” He murmured, and she nodded.
“I guess.” Billie turned to face him, forcing herself to smile. “Time for you to hit the road, cowboy.”
“Still a cowboy?”
“Uh-huh.” Her nose wrinkled in a more genuine smile as Jon pulled her to her feet, pulling her into his arms.
“Thank you.” He said sincerely, gazing at her.
“I didn’t do anything. It was just breakfast.”
“Not what I meant.” He bumped her forehead with his. “And you know it.”
“I know it.” Billie agreed.
“Thanks for putting me up…..for putting up with me. Thanks for letting me find the real me again.” Jon grinned as a phrase jumped into his head. “Thanks for helping me put the boy back in the cowboy.”
“Thanks for helping me with the hay…..and for helping Deke.” Billie replied. “Now will you go before I get all sappy?”
“You and me both, darlin’.” Jon murmured. “Kiss me goodbye, then I’ll go.”
They kissed deeply, taking leave of each other in the wet melding of lips and tongues, parting slowly and with a sense of finality. Jon rested his forehead on Billie’s for a moment, feeling her hands gently rubbing his back, then he straightened away from her, pasting on a grin that he didn’t feel like.
“Bye, cowgirl.”
“Bye, cowboy.”
With that, he headed to the living room, grabbing the saddlebag and his leather jacket, pausing at the front door to pull on his boots, then leaving the house. He walked to the garage, wheeling the bike out and fastening the saddlebag back in place, then he quickly checked the bike before straddling the seat, starting the engine.
As he rode the bike slowly past the house, he saw Billie on the porch, still wrapped in the robe, a fresh mug of coffee in her hands. Her hair was tangled around her face, but he was pretty sure he could see the shine of tears trailing down her face. Without halting the bike, Jon raised a hand in a wave, and Billie immediately waved back, smiling broadly. And falsely.
Keeping the bike at a low speed, Jon rode down the track to the highway, watching Billie in the bike mirror until a curve took him out of sight of the house. Sighing, he opened the throttle another fraction as he left her there.
At the house, Billie watched him leave, and only once he was out of sight did she wipe the tears from her face. She sat heavily on one of the porch chairs, and Deke came across to her, laying his head on her knee, not sure why his mistress was sad, but staying close anyway. Smiling sadly, Billie laid a hand on his head, stroking gently. After a few minutes, hearing Drummer’s impatient whinny, she shook herself out of the sadness and headed inside to dress. Time for her to get back to her own life, too.
Jon rode to the feed store - it was in the right direction anyway - to use the payphone there, as he wasn’t sure where he’d find another. Halting the bike near the phone, he flicked off the ignition and got off the bike, walking slowly to the phone. After going through the usual question-and-answer session with the operator, she accepted his credit card and he dialled the long series of numbers, waiting while it rang, closing his eyes when a familiar female voice answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Jon.” There was silence at the other end. A brittle, hostile silence, forcing him to speak again. “Is Richie there?”
In California, the striking face of Richie’s current girlfriend - though girl wasn’t really appropriate for her - hardened.
“No, he’s not.” Cher replied, not even trying to hide her dislike of Jon.
Like pulling teeth, Jon thought, clenching his jaw, forcing himself to stay civil or he’d get no help from her.
“Do you know where he is? I was hoping to see him.”
“He’s back home in Jersey, far as I know.” She replied. “He went to see his parents.”
That was almost good news, Jon thought. Not only did he not have to see Cher, to get past her to see Richie, but Jersey was a little closer than California. Besides which, he was headed that way anyway, to see Dorothea and his family.
“Thanks, Cher.” His voice was as warm as it ever got, talking to her. “I appreciate it.”
“I’m only telling you so he can beat the shit out of you.” She snapped.
“No more than I deserve.” Jon muttered, surprising Cher. “Bye.”
“Bye.” She echoed, laying down the phone. That had to be a first. Bongiovi actually sounding like a human being.
Hanging up the phone, Jon sighed. Looked like it could be a fun time when he got back to Jersey. He looked speculatively at the Harley. The roadtrip no longer felt like such fun. The slow pace across country would, he knew, irritate him, because he just needed to move forward now, so he picked up the phone again.
A couple of phone calls later and he was set. Ride to Wichita Airport where the Harley would be loaded onto a cargo plane bound for California, while Jon would board a flight home to Newark.
The travel plans worked out sweetly, with Jon arriving into Newark late in the evening and just booking into the nearest hotel for the night, too tired to think straight. In the morning, after a room service breakfast, he took a cab out to Richie’s parents’ house, paying off the driver and walking slowly up to the front door. Taking a deep breath, he knocked and waited.
After a few minutes, the door opened, and Joan Sambora stood looking at him, her expression neither angry nor particularly pleased to see him.
“Hi Mrs S.” Jon said nervously.
“Jon. How are you? You look well.”
“I’m good, thanks.” Jon cleared his throat. “Is he here?”
“Mm-hm. He’s in his room.” She stepped back, letting him in. Neither she or Adam had been given too many details of the falling out between her son and his friend, but she knew it had to have been something serious. Either way, they were both grown men and could sort it out themselves. “You know the way.”
“Thanks.” Jon entered the house. “Okay if I leave this here?”
“Of course.”
He laid the saddlebag down on the floor and immediately took off his boots, heading through the house in his socks, down the stairs to Richie’s basement bedroom. The door was closed, and Jon could hear the sound of a guitar through the panel. Still without a clue of what he was going to say to his friend, he knocked on the door.
Sitting on his bed, guitar on his lap, Richie looked up at the sound of the knock. His parents would knock out of politeness, but this seemed somehow different. Frowning, he laid the guitar down and got off the bed, crossing to open the door. What he saw outside was nothing that he expected - Jon standing there, trepidation on his face, waiting patiently.
“Hey.” Jon said, bracing himself for Richie’s reaction.
Chapter Thirty Eight
Moving slowly, Billie got to her feet, collecting the empty mugs and glasses, taking them to the kitchen. Jon looked down at Deke, reaching a hand to ruffle the dog’s head, then he got to his feet, too, stretching before heading to the kitchen. Billie had rinsed the dishes, laying them by the sink to drain, and Jon grinned tiredly as he held out a hand to her.
Taking his hand, Billie smiled, walking from the kitchen to her bedroom, leading Jon with her.
In the bedroom, they both undressed slowly, watching each other until they stood naked on opposite sides of Billie’s bed. She pulled down the cover, Jon tugging at his side, then they got into the bed, Billie flicking off the light before Jon gathered her into his arms. He kissed her tenderly, his tongue stroking hers languorously, then drawing back gradually. Right now, neither of them was even thinking of sex, just content to cuddle close together in the warmth of the bed.
“G’night Jon.” Billie pillowed her head on his warm, furred chest.
“G’night Billie.” Jon kissed the top of her head, tightening his arms around her as he spoke gently again. “G’night cowgirl.”
Neither of them spoke again just shifting slightly to adjust their positions to maximum comfort, Billie falling asleep first, lulled by Jon’s heartbeat beneath her head. He quickly followed her into sleep, and during the night they moved without waking, Jon tucking his body against Billie’s back, still holding her close.
In the early hours of the day, dawn just beginning to brighten the sky, Billie woke, feeling the warmth of Jon against her back. Moving a little brought no reaction, and she smiled as she realised he was still asleep. Well, mostly asleep, though there was a hot, hard pressure building against her ass that said part of him was waking up. She moved again, rubbing back on him, the hardness increasing though he still slept.
She slipped from under his arm, smiling when he rolled conveniently onto his back. Reaching low under the covers, Billie stroked him lightly, then closed her fingers more tightly on the hot shaft, pumping her hand on him as she watched his face change, his lips pouting sensually at the sensation. With her hand still on his dick, Billie smiled as she slid under the covers, bringing her mouth onto him instead, a slow sucking of swollen flesh, hands and mouth working together on his cock and balls, chuckling slightly as she wondered whether he’d wake or just think he was having a very, very vivid dream.
Jon was dreaming of being back up on stage, the pressure and friction of his guitar against his crotch getting him hard as he sang. When the rubbing friction was replaced by wet heat, though, the dream faded away, so he woke to the feeling of a hot mouth sucking on him. Groaning softly with the pleasure of it, he opened his eyes, slightly surprised to see a white bedcover, lifting it up with one hand to see Billie’s dark head at his groin.
He knew he was too far gone to pull her away, to have the control left to stop her and to make love to her, and he didn’t even try to fight it, just spreading his legs wider to let her play with the tight sac drawn up hard against his body. Laying a hand on her head, Jon fisted his fingers in her hair, letting out another groan, letting Billie know how she was pleasing him.
“Damn, Billie. I…..” His voice cracked as she raised her head, swirling her tongue around the ultra-sensitive tip before plunging him deep again. “……..ahh, fuck…….baby…….that’s it, baby……more…….oh, Jesus…..”
He wanted to keep watching her mouth sliding up and down on his dick, but he couldn’t find the strength to hold his head up, every ounce of energy apparently concentrated between his legs at the moment. With another groan, Jon let his head fall back on the pillow, bringing his left hand up over his head, gripping onto the headboard, trying to stop himself from ripping Billie’s hair out by the roots as his hips started to move of their own accord, pumping slowly upward, thrusting deeper into Billie’s mouth.
She accepted it happily, purring deep in her throat, vibrating her tongue on the hot flesh in her mouth, feeling the hand in her hair tighten as Jon panted above her.
“Jesus, darlin’…….yes………oh, God, yes……I’m gonna……..aaahhh………”
The shout of pleasure was accompanied by the surge of hot fluid into Billie’s mouth, and she swallowed quickly, fighting the gag reflex as Jon thrust into her throat. His hand slowly relaxed on her head, though his grip on the headboard remained rigid even until Billie had licked away the final drops from him and crawled up the bed again, emerging flushed and smiling from under the cover.
“Good morning.” She purred with a cheeky smile, seeing his arm still raised, bicep bulging from his grip on the bed.
Forcing his hand to release the bed, Jon gave Billie the kind of smile that only a man who’d just been blown could dredge up, wasted and satisfied all at once.
“I dunno if it’s morning, but it’s certainly good.” He said a little hoarsely, reaching to her face, wiping an escaped drop of his semen from the edge of her lip, Billie catching his hand and licking away the wetness from his finger.
“You sure know how to wake a guy up.” He murmured, pulling her across to lie on top of him, his hands grasping her ass. “Gimme a minute to catch my breath and we’ll see what kind of good morning I can give you.”
Billie cuddled down on top of him, content to wait a few minutes for her pleasure, his taste still in her mouth. She actually dozed, waking maybe fifteen minutes later at the insistent pressure of a hot, hard lump against her thigh where her leg had slipped between Jon’s.
“You fell asleep on me.” He pouted as she raised her head.
“Literally.” Billie giggled, moving a little, rubbing her thigh on him until Jon grinned, growling as he flipped her over onto her back, pinning her under his body and leering down at her.
“That’s better.” He purred, lowering his head to kiss her deeply, Billie running her hands into the tangled mane of his hair.
Jon moved down from her mouth, kissing down her throat to her chest, not lingering there long, though, just taking a moment to lick around each nipple before moving on, down between her legs to caress the wetness he found, his tongue sliding briefly inside to twist and tease, lips and teeth working on the sensitive bud to bring her whimpering to the brink, then easing back to bite at the insides of her thighs before driving her higher again, the pearly fluid now dripping from her as she moaned his name.
Teasing wasn’t his goal right now, though. All he wanted was to bury himself into her one more time, to feel her body accepting him, then to feel the pulsing clench of her orgasm around his dick, her pleasure drawing him along with her, cumming together for that ultimate satisfaction.
“Do you want me?” He asked softly, moving up her body.
“Yes.” Billie replied without hesitation, spreading her thighs wider.
“Good. ‘Cause I want you.” Jon replied, reaching to grab one of her thick pillows, pulling it toward him then raising Billie up, sliding the pillow under her butt.
With the pillow holding her high, Jon finally slid his cock slowly into her soaked flesh, filling her in one stroke then holding himself still for a moment before giving another tiny nudge forward, his balls tight against her body. Billie moaned, lithely wrapping both legs around him, holding herself wide open to him as she deliberately tensed her inner muscles. Jon groaned as she increased the pressure around his swollen dick.
“You’re killing me, Billie.” He groaned helplessly as she did it again, a swift relaxation followed by more pressure.
As she relaxed her muscles again, he drew back, thrusting home a little harder, and it was her turn to groan in helpless pleasure
“Jon.” She moaned, and he rose onto his outstretched arms above her, starting a slow, devastating rhythm, grinding against her clit on every stroke.
Billie gazed up at him, then she used a handful of his hair to draw him down to kiss her. Never altering those steady, deep thrusts, Jon lowered himself onto Billie, kissing her as they made love, feeling her hands in his hair, roaming onto his back, to his butt and back to his shoulders, her touch never still.
Jon drove her slowly to orgasm, Billie whispering his name as it broke over her, waves of pleasure coursing through her body until she was clinging onto him, sweating and crying out in the sweetness of release. Just as the first waves of it shook through Billie, Jon came, shorter, harder strokes spilling him inside her, grunting softly in the spasms of it. Slowly coming to a halt above her - in her - Jon pressed another kiss to her tender, puffy lips, easing himself from her body as he softened, Billie purring soft pleasure.
“Now it’s a good morning.” She said with a smile.
Taking his hand, Billie smiled, walking from the kitchen to her bedroom, leading Jon with her.
In the bedroom, they both undressed slowly, watching each other until they stood naked on opposite sides of Billie’s bed. She pulled down the cover, Jon tugging at his side, then they got into the bed, Billie flicking off the light before Jon gathered her into his arms. He kissed her tenderly, his tongue stroking hers languorously, then drawing back gradually. Right now, neither of them was even thinking of sex, just content to cuddle close together in the warmth of the bed.
“G’night Jon.” Billie pillowed her head on his warm, furred chest.
“G’night Billie.” Jon kissed the top of her head, tightening his arms around her as he spoke gently again. “G’night cowgirl.”
Neither of them spoke again just shifting slightly to adjust their positions to maximum comfort, Billie falling asleep first, lulled by Jon’s heartbeat beneath her head. He quickly followed her into sleep, and during the night they moved without waking, Jon tucking his body against Billie’s back, still holding her close.
In the early hours of the day, dawn just beginning to brighten the sky, Billie woke, feeling the warmth of Jon against her back. Moving a little brought no reaction, and she smiled as she realised he was still asleep. Well, mostly asleep, though there was a hot, hard pressure building against her ass that said part of him was waking up. She moved again, rubbing back on him, the hardness increasing though he still slept.
She slipped from under his arm, smiling when he rolled conveniently onto his back. Reaching low under the covers, Billie stroked him lightly, then closed her fingers more tightly on the hot shaft, pumping her hand on him as she watched his face change, his lips pouting sensually at the sensation. With her hand still on his dick, Billie smiled as she slid under the covers, bringing her mouth onto him instead, a slow sucking of swollen flesh, hands and mouth working together on his cock and balls, chuckling slightly as she wondered whether he’d wake or just think he was having a very, very vivid dream.
Jon was dreaming of being back up on stage, the pressure and friction of his guitar against his crotch getting him hard as he sang. When the rubbing friction was replaced by wet heat, though, the dream faded away, so he woke to the feeling of a hot mouth sucking on him. Groaning softly with the pleasure of it, he opened his eyes, slightly surprised to see a white bedcover, lifting it up with one hand to see Billie’s dark head at his groin.
He knew he was too far gone to pull her away, to have the control left to stop her and to make love to her, and he didn’t even try to fight it, just spreading his legs wider to let her play with the tight sac drawn up hard against his body. Laying a hand on her head, Jon fisted his fingers in her hair, letting out another groan, letting Billie know how she was pleasing him.
“Damn, Billie. I…..” His voice cracked as she raised her head, swirling her tongue around the ultra-sensitive tip before plunging him deep again. “……..ahh, fuck…….baby…….that’s it, baby……more…….oh, Jesus…..”
He wanted to keep watching her mouth sliding up and down on his dick, but he couldn’t find the strength to hold his head up, every ounce of energy apparently concentrated between his legs at the moment. With another groan, Jon let his head fall back on the pillow, bringing his left hand up over his head, gripping onto the headboard, trying to stop himself from ripping Billie’s hair out by the roots as his hips started to move of their own accord, pumping slowly upward, thrusting deeper into Billie’s mouth.
She accepted it happily, purring deep in her throat, vibrating her tongue on the hot flesh in her mouth, feeling the hand in her hair tighten as Jon panted above her.
“Jesus, darlin’…….yes………oh, God, yes……I’m gonna……..aaahhh………”
The shout of pleasure was accompanied by the surge of hot fluid into Billie’s mouth, and she swallowed quickly, fighting the gag reflex as Jon thrust into her throat. His hand slowly relaxed on her head, though his grip on the headboard remained rigid even until Billie had licked away the final drops from him and crawled up the bed again, emerging flushed and smiling from under the cover.
“Good morning.” She purred with a cheeky smile, seeing his arm still raised, bicep bulging from his grip on the bed.
Forcing his hand to release the bed, Jon gave Billie the kind of smile that only a man who’d just been blown could dredge up, wasted and satisfied all at once.
“I dunno if it’s morning, but it’s certainly good.” He said a little hoarsely, reaching to her face, wiping an escaped drop of his semen from the edge of her lip, Billie catching his hand and licking away the wetness from his finger.
“You sure know how to wake a guy up.” He murmured, pulling her across to lie on top of him, his hands grasping her ass. “Gimme a minute to catch my breath and we’ll see what kind of good morning I can give you.”
Billie cuddled down on top of him, content to wait a few minutes for her pleasure, his taste still in her mouth. She actually dozed, waking maybe fifteen minutes later at the insistent pressure of a hot, hard lump against her thigh where her leg had slipped between Jon’s.
“You fell asleep on me.” He pouted as she raised her head.
“Literally.” Billie giggled, moving a little, rubbing her thigh on him until Jon grinned, growling as he flipped her over onto her back, pinning her under his body and leering down at her.
“That’s better.” He purred, lowering his head to kiss her deeply, Billie running her hands into the tangled mane of his hair.
Jon moved down from her mouth, kissing down her throat to her chest, not lingering there long, though, just taking a moment to lick around each nipple before moving on, down between her legs to caress the wetness he found, his tongue sliding briefly inside to twist and tease, lips and teeth working on the sensitive bud to bring her whimpering to the brink, then easing back to bite at the insides of her thighs before driving her higher again, the pearly fluid now dripping from her as she moaned his name.
Teasing wasn’t his goal right now, though. All he wanted was to bury himself into her one more time, to feel her body accepting him, then to feel the pulsing clench of her orgasm around his dick, her pleasure drawing him along with her, cumming together for that ultimate satisfaction.
“Do you want me?” He asked softly, moving up her body.
“Yes.” Billie replied without hesitation, spreading her thighs wider.
“Good. ‘Cause I want you.” Jon replied, reaching to grab one of her thick pillows, pulling it toward him then raising Billie up, sliding the pillow under her butt.
With the pillow holding her high, Jon finally slid his cock slowly into her soaked flesh, filling her in one stroke then holding himself still for a moment before giving another tiny nudge forward, his balls tight against her body. Billie moaned, lithely wrapping both legs around him, holding herself wide open to him as she deliberately tensed her inner muscles. Jon groaned as she increased the pressure around his swollen dick.
“You’re killing me, Billie.” He groaned helplessly as she did it again, a swift relaxation followed by more pressure.
As she relaxed her muscles again, he drew back, thrusting home a little harder, and it was her turn to groan in helpless pleasure
“Jon.” She moaned, and he rose onto his outstretched arms above her, starting a slow, devastating rhythm, grinding against her clit on every stroke.
Billie gazed up at him, then she used a handful of his hair to draw him down to kiss her. Never altering those steady, deep thrusts, Jon lowered himself onto Billie, kissing her as they made love, feeling her hands in his hair, roaming onto his back, to his butt and back to his shoulders, her touch never still.
Jon drove her slowly to orgasm, Billie whispering his name as it broke over her, waves of pleasure coursing through her body until she was clinging onto him, sweating and crying out in the sweetness of release. Just as the first waves of it shook through Billie, Jon came, shorter, harder strokes spilling him inside her, grunting softly in the spasms of it. Slowly coming to a halt above her - in her - Jon pressed another kiss to her tender, puffy lips, easing himself from her body as he softened, Billie purring soft pleasure.
“Now it’s a good morning.” She said with a smile.
Chapter Thirty Seven
“I suggest you get the hell off the lady.” Came a gravelly voice, and Billie gave a gasp of embarrassment.
She peeked over Jon’s shoulder, realising that her screams and begging had been overheard - and misunderstood - by her neighbour, Jace.
“Jace?” She said, looking past Jon.
“Billie?!” He sounded shocked. And now even angrier, though he should’ve realised who it was from the horses standing patiently.
“Yeah, Jace. Uh……this isn’t how it looks - or sounds.” She said, blushing furiously. “This is my….friend….Jon. He wasn’t attacking me.”
“I…..ummmm……” Jace sounded almost as embarrassed as she was. “I saw the horses and heard you scream, and…..”
“I know. Can you give us a couple minutes? Wait out by the horses?”
“Uh…..sure, Billie. Sorry.” The last word was muttered shyly.
“Uh-huh.” Billie mumbled as he made the rifle safe and left them to make themselves decent again.
“Holy fuck.” Jon muttered against Billie’s ear, slowly pushing himself up off her.
The combination of recent orgasm and the threat of death made his arms tremble slightly as he rose over her, easing out of her body. He gave her an embarrassed smile.
“So much for nobody but us chickens, huh?”
“Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that.” Billie blushed. “I guess Jace was out riding or hunting or something.”
Jon grabbed a handful of paper towel from the saddle bag, wiping himself off, and Billie did likewise before reaching for her panties and jeans. Even with the soft layer of panties between her flesh and the jeans, the friction of denim on sensitised skin made her shudder in a kind of lingering pleasure. She pulled on her boots as Jon packed the picnic debris into the saddlebag, then they made their way out to where the horses - and Jace - waited.
The older guy was standing by Copper, the mare leaning her head on his shoulder, looking balefully at Jon, probably wondering what he’d done to piss her owner off so much he’d brought out his rifle.
“Hi Jace.” Billie said, forcing herself to look straight at him, refusing to be ashamed of what he’d walked up on.
“Billie.” He said with a slight smile.
“This is Jon.” She said, gesturing toward him, and with no hesitation Jon held out his hand.
“Good to meet you, Jace.” He grinned, the grin confident and open, without being cocky or arrogant. “Hey - thanks for letting Billie borrow Copper. She’s been great.”
“You’re welcome.” Jace replied, shaking Jon’s hand. “Good to meet you, too.”
The awkwardness of the way they’d initially ‘met’ dissipated quickly. None of the three of them was a particularly shy person - Billie and Jace were ranchers at heart, so well-versed in the sexual activities of most animals, including humans. Jon, though neither of the other two knew it, was a rockstar and, well, it was the eighties, so there wasn’t much he hadn’t heard of, seen or participated in. Sometimes all three at once.
Now that he knew Billie hadn’t been being raped, but had been a more than willing participant, Jace quickly made his excuses and left them alone. Once he’d ridden off out of sight, Jon collapsed in a heap on the ground, pretending relief from terror.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so close to being shot before.” He chuckled, and Billie laughed, nudging his thigh with the toe of her boot.
“He wouldn’t have shot you.”
“No? Sure sounded like he would.”
“Well, okay, he maybe would’ve……but not until you got off me…..at that range, the round would’ve gone straight through you and hit me.”
“I’d already ‘got off’ on you. In you.” Jon smirked up from ground level, grabbing her ankle. “Thought you’d noticed.”
“Nope. All I noticed was my brain falling apart.”
“Awww.” He grinned happily, winking. “I do aim to please.”
“Oh, I know you do. And you did.” Billie smirked now. “Repeatedly.”
“Why, thank you ma’am.”
“Time we got going.” Billie said, glancing at her watch, and Jon held up a hand, letting her pull him to his feet.
They saddled up the horses and mounted, Billie trying - not entirely successfully - to hide her wince as the saddle rubbed her jeans into her. Jon chuckled, but didn’t say a word, just grinned as he followed her along the trail. After only another few minutes, Billie halted Drummer again, reaching into the saddlebag for her camera.
“See!” She smiled, pointing into the distance. “Mountains.”
Jon shaded his eyes, peering where she pointed, only just able to pick out the darker blue shadow on the horizon. If Billie hadn’t assured him they were mountains, he’d have thought it was just a line of low cloud.
Looping her reins around the horn of her saddle, Billie took a few photos, then swiveled in the saddle to snap one of Jon, who grinned.
“Make sure you get my best side.” He smirked, and Billie gave an evil grin.
“Okay. Take off your jeans, then.”
“Hey! Naughty cowgirl, huh?”
“Yuh-huh.”
“C’mere.”
Not quite understanding why, Billie turned Drummer around and brought him close to Copper. Jon took the camera from her and looked at the simple controls, then pulled Billie close, their heads together as he turned the camera and snapped a couple of photos of them together. He wasn’t even sure why he did it. Just felt like there should be some record of his being there, of meeting Billie. It was a strange feeling, like something was changing, and he couldn’t quite figure out if it was good or bad. He just knew it was inevitable.
Billie was surprised at his action, but when Jon turned to her, kissing her lingeringly, she just kissed him back, half-understanding that the feeling of change she’d been having was starting to affect him, too. Jon gave her back the camera and she packed it away again, then they started the ride back to the ranch.
That night, over dinner, they were both quiet. Not an uncomfortable silence, but just two people occupied with their own thoughts. Even if those thoughts were pretty similar. Finally, as she finished the last piece of chicken on her plate, Billie smiled over at Jon, a slightly sad smile.
“You need to go, don’t you? It’s time for you to get back to your real life.”
“I…..yeah.” He gave a crooked grin. “I guess so. I can’t hide away from my life forever, can I? Even if I’d like to.”
“Nope. Life will always find you, Jon.”
“Yeah.” Jon sighed, but there was a kind of strength in the soft sound. “I need to talk with Richie before I do anything else. Need to talk to him in person.”
“So he can punch you out again?”
“If he feels like he needs to, yeah. I probably deserve it. And more.”
“And you’re just gonna cowboy up and take it like a man, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Good for you.” Billie reached to touch his hand, then began clearing away their plates.
They took coffee through to the living room, Billie breaking out the whisky again, and they snuggled together on the couch, sipping and talking the night away. When it grew late, the coffee long finished and neither of them able to summon the will to move for more whisky, Billie tilted her head to look up at Jon.
“I know what I said before - what we both said - but……would you sleep with me tonight? Just this one night? Our last night.”
“I think I’d like that, Billie. I’d like to hold you all night, before we say goodbye.”
She peeked over Jon’s shoulder, realising that her screams and begging had been overheard - and misunderstood - by her neighbour, Jace.
“Jace?” She said, looking past Jon.
“Billie?!” He sounded shocked. And now even angrier, though he should’ve realised who it was from the horses standing patiently.
“Yeah, Jace. Uh……this isn’t how it looks - or sounds.” She said, blushing furiously. “This is my….friend….Jon. He wasn’t attacking me.”
“I…..ummmm……” Jace sounded almost as embarrassed as she was. “I saw the horses and heard you scream, and…..”
“I know. Can you give us a couple minutes? Wait out by the horses?”
“Uh…..sure, Billie. Sorry.” The last word was muttered shyly.
“Uh-huh.” Billie mumbled as he made the rifle safe and left them to make themselves decent again.
“Holy fuck.” Jon muttered against Billie’s ear, slowly pushing himself up off her.
The combination of recent orgasm and the threat of death made his arms tremble slightly as he rose over her, easing out of her body. He gave her an embarrassed smile.
“So much for nobody but us chickens, huh?”
“Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that.” Billie blushed. “I guess Jace was out riding or hunting or something.”
Jon grabbed a handful of paper towel from the saddle bag, wiping himself off, and Billie did likewise before reaching for her panties and jeans. Even with the soft layer of panties between her flesh and the jeans, the friction of denim on sensitised skin made her shudder in a kind of lingering pleasure. She pulled on her boots as Jon packed the picnic debris into the saddlebag, then they made their way out to where the horses - and Jace - waited.
The older guy was standing by Copper, the mare leaning her head on his shoulder, looking balefully at Jon, probably wondering what he’d done to piss her owner off so much he’d brought out his rifle.
“Hi Jace.” Billie said, forcing herself to look straight at him, refusing to be ashamed of what he’d walked up on.
“Billie.” He said with a slight smile.
“This is Jon.” She said, gesturing toward him, and with no hesitation Jon held out his hand.
“Good to meet you, Jace.” He grinned, the grin confident and open, without being cocky or arrogant. “Hey - thanks for letting Billie borrow Copper. She’s been great.”
“You’re welcome.” Jace replied, shaking Jon’s hand. “Good to meet you, too.”
The awkwardness of the way they’d initially ‘met’ dissipated quickly. None of the three of them was a particularly shy person - Billie and Jace were ranchers at heart, so well-versed in the sexual activities of most animals, including humans. Jon, though neither of the other two knew it, was a rockstar and, well, it was the eighties, so there wasn’t much he hadn’t heard of, seen or participated in. Sometimes all three at once.
Now that he knew Billie hadn’t been being raped, but had been a more than willing participant, Jace quickly made his excuses and left them alone. Once he’d ridden off out of sight, Jon collapsed in a heap on the ground, pretending relief from terror.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so close to being shot before.” He chuckled, and Billie laughed, nudging his thigh with the toe of her boot.
“He wouldn’t have shot you.”
“No? Sure sounded like he would.”
“Well, okay, he maybe would’ve……but not until you got off me…..at that range, the round would’ve gone straight through you and hit me.”
“I’d already ‘got off’ on you. In you.” Jon smirked up from ground level, grabbing her ankle. “Thought you’d noticed.”
“Nope. All I noticed was my brain falling apart.”
“Awww.” He grinned happily, winking. “I do aim to please.”
“Oh, I know you do. And you did.” Billie smirked now. “Repeatedly.”
“Why, thank you ma’am.”
“Time we got going.” Billie said, glancing at her watch, and Jon held up a hand, letting her pull him to his feet.
They saddled up the horses and mounted, Billie trying - not entirely successfully - to hide her wince as the saddle rubbed her jeans into her. Jon chuckled, but didn’t say a word, just grinned as he followed her along the trail. After only another few minutes, Billie halted Drummer again, reaching into the saddlebag for her camera.
“See!” She smiled, pointing into the distance. “Mountains.”
Jon shaded his eyes, peering where she pointed, only just able to pick out the darker blue shadow on the horizon. If Billie hadn’t assured him they were mountains, he’d have thought it was just a line of low cloud.
Looping her reins around the horn of her saddle, Billie took a few photos, then swiveled in the saddle to snap one of Jon, who grinned.
“Make sure you get my best side.” He smirked, and Billie gave an evil grin.
“Okay. Take off your jeans, then.”
“Hey! Naughty cowgirl, huh?”
“Yuh-huh.”
“C’mere.”
Not quite understanding why, Billie turned Drummer around and brought him close to Copper. Jon took the camera from her and looked at the simple controls, then pulled Billie close, their heads together as he turned the camera and snapped a couple of photos of them together. He wasn’t even sure why he did it. Just felt like there should be some record of his being there, of meeting Billie. It was a strange feeling, like something was changing, and he couldn’t quite figure out if it was good or bad. He just knew it was inevitable.
Billie was surprised at his action, but when Jon turned to her, kissing her lingeringly, she just kissed him back, half-understanding that the feeling of change she’d been having was starting to affect him, too. Jon gave her back the camera and she packed it away again, then they started the ride back to the ranch.
That night, over dinner, they were both quiet. Not an uncomfortable silence, but just two people occupied with their own thoughts. Even if those thoughts were pretty similar. Finally, as she finished the last piece of chicken on her plate, Billie smiled over at Jon, a slightly sad smile.
“You need to go, don’t you? It’s time for you to get back to your real life.”
“I…..yeah.” He gave a crooked grin. “I guess so. I can’t hide away from my life forever, can I? Even if I’d like to.”
“Nope. Life will always find you, Jon.”
“Yeah.” Jon sighed, but there was a kind of strength in the soft sound. “I need to talk with Richie before I do anything else. Need to talk to him in person.”
“So he can punch you out again?”
“If he feels like he needs to, yeah. I probably deserve it. And more.”
“And you’re just gonna cowboy up and take it like a man, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Good for you.” Billie reached to touch his hand, then began clearing away their plates.
They took coffee through to the living room, Billie breaking out the whisky again, and they snuggled together on the couch, sipping and talking the night away. When it grew late, the coffee long finished and neither of them able to summon the will to move for more whisky, Billie tilted her head to look up at Jon.
“I know what I said before - what we both said - but……would you sleep with me tonight? Just this one night? Our last night.”
“I think I’d like that, Billie. I’d like to hold you all night, before we say goodbye.”
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Chapter Thirty Six
Today’s ride was far tougher than their last excursion. The flat start to the trail was easy enough, then the trail turned into a mass of gullies and switchbacks, taking them far off their route at times. They talked as they rode, then something occurred to Jon.
“Hey!” He nudged Copper closer to Drummer. “You said this was a mountain ride…..but you told me yesterday there’s no mountains around here!”
“There aren’t!” Billie giggled. “But on a real clear day - like today - you can see mountains in the distance. S’why I packed my camera.”
“Feel like you got me out here under false pretences.” Jon groused. “You promised me mountains.”
“Awww…..I’m sorry!”
“No you’re not. I may have to spank you later.”
“Y’think?” Billie teased as they rode out onto a flat plain, feeling Drummer hump his back in anticipation. “You gotta catch me first!”
Before Jon could respond, Billie had jammed her heels into Drum’s sides, and he decided not to bother with any rodeo acts, just blasting forward at canter, quickly building to a full-on gallop. After quickly checking that Jon and Copper were following, Billie faced front and just let Drummer run for the fun of it.
With Copper’s lower speed, though, when Jon pulled her to a halt in a secluded clearing, Billie had already dismounted and was in the process of taking off Drummer’s saddle.
“What kept you, cowboy?” She laughed.
“Can’t seem to find top gear on this thing!” Jon swung down off Copper, patting her sweating neck.
“Yeah. She’s kinda one-paced.” Billie agreed. “Still, she’s taking care of you, which is the main thing.”
“Yep. What can I say? The ladies love me!”
“Pffft!” Was the only response he got to that.
Billie had Drummer safely tied up, and while Jon unsaddled Copper she carried the saddlebags - and Drummer’s blanket - off behind some rocks. She laid the blanket down on a smooth patch of sandy ground, opening the picnic as Jon followed her into the hidden little space.
“What’s for lunch?” He asked like an overgrown kid, falling onto the blanket in an untidy heap.
They shared the sandwiches and fruit Billie had packed, Jon making a face when she handed him a juice box, but conceding the point when she explained they were far more robust than bottles.
“So what’s around here?” Jon asked innocently, Billie throwing him an incredulous look.
“Uh - nothing? Just what you saw when we rode up.”
“So there’s nobody else around, huh?”
Billie was starting to catch up to his thought process, and she smiled as she shook her head.
“Nobody but us chickens.”
“Good.” He smirked, reaching to grab her, Billie surprised when he pulled her to lie across his lap. Face down. “I owe you a spanking!”
He gave her a moment to protest - if she wanted to - then delivered a light smack to her ass. Another, slightly harder, smack brought a soft yelp but Jon realised her jeans offered too much protection.
“Wait a minute.” He growled, lifting her again so she knelt facing him.
He rose onto his knees, too, kissing her hungrily as he fought her jeans open, pushing them down to her thighs.
“S’better.” He muttered, slapping his hand onto her bare ass, a far more satisfying yelp coming from Billie this time. “Take ‘em all the way off.”
“No.” She shook her head defiantly, getting into the game, and Jon spanked her again.
“Now.”
This time she did, taking her boots off first. With Billie now naked from the waist down, Jon sat on the blanket, pulling her onto his lap. He spanked again, three or four good smacks, Billie squirming against him as the burn spread. Under her belly, she could feel him. Could feel him hard, hot even through his jeans, and she just wanted him inside her.
“Jon, please.”
“What?”
“Please…..I need you.” Billie thought she knew how to convince him, grabbing his hand, pulling it between her thighs so he could feel how wet she was. It backfired on her a little, though, as he chuckled.
“You horny, darlin’? You need to get off?”
She blushed. “Uh-huh.”
Jon grinned, tipping her onto her back, bringing their hands to her pussy again.
“Who’s stopping you?”
As Billie gasped at his suggestion, Jon caught hold of her panties, dragging them off then moving back, on his knees as he unzipped his jeans and shoved them to his knees.
“C’mon now.” He encouraged as she still hesitated, taking his dick in his hand, stroking the hard shaft. “Don’t be shy, Billie.”
“I want you.” She pouted.
“You’ll get me, if you’re a good girl.” He promised.
Almost against her volition, Billie started stroking herself, her eyes fixed on Jon as his fist pumped slowly on his dick. Jon groaned when Billie dipped two fingers into herself, but in the end he couldn’t bear to just watch, crawling forward to push her hand away, burying his own fingers in her flesh instead. Billie raised her fingers to her clit, stroking as Jon thrust his fingers inside her.
Kneeling between her legs, Jon watched Billie’s face as he twisted his fingers slightly, stroking inside her, then his thumb replaced her fingers on her clit, pushing her whimpering toward orgasm. The whimpering wasn’t enough for him though, and Jon moved closer, closing his lips around the swollen bud, sucking hard, nipping carefully with his teeth. Billie groaned at the touch of his teeth, then the sucking, with the fingers thrusting inside - three fingers pushing into her now - threw her over the edge, Billie screaming as she came.
Grinning in satisfaction, Jon crawled up her body, his mouth trailing up, pushing her shirt to her neck so he could bite gently on her nipples, sucking through her bra, finally working his way to her mouth. He kissed her, Billie moaning as he settled between her thighs, still not entering her but the tip of him just brushing over the soft, soaking wet flesh.
“Jon, please.”
“What?” He rocked his hips, brushing his cock against her clit, Billie reaching for him with a moan.
“Jon……no more…….please don’t……no……” His teasing, right on the heels of her orgasm, made her whimper, desperate for him to take her.
As her fingers reached down, though, Jon grabbed her wrists, pulling them high above her head, pinning her.
“What do you want?” He growled, pressing the swollen head inside. “This?”
“Uh-huh. Please, Jon, don’t make me………” She was going to say ‘wait’, but he brought his free hand down to grip her hip, holding her still as he drove into her hard.
Billie screamed again, fighting to free her hands, but Jon held on, his other hand grabbing her thigh, pulling it up, pulling her wider open as he slammed into her again. Not even trying to control himself, he fucked her hard as she came under him, screaming again, her voice fading to helpless sobs as Jon kept driving into her, humping his back as he pumped his hips furiously, cumming inside her with a roar of satisfaction, muffled as he bit on her shoulder through her shirt.
He was slumped on top of her, exhausted, still holding her pinned down, when he heard a sound behind him. A sound he’d only previously heard in movies. The sound of a rifle being cocked.
“Hey!” He nudged Copper closer to Drummer. “You said this was a mountain ride…..but you told me yesterday there’s no mountains around here!”
“There aren’t!” Billie giggled. “But on a real clear day - like today - you can see mountains in the distance. S’why I packed my camera.”
“Feel like you got me out here under false pretences.” Jon groused. “You promised me mountains.”
“Awww…..I’m sorry!”
“No you’re not. I may have to spank you later.”
“Y’think?” Billie teased as they rode out onto a flat plain, feeling Drummer hump his back in anticipation. “You gotta catch me first!”
Before Jon could respond, Billie had jammed her heels into Drum’s sides, and he decided not to bother with any rodeo acts, just blasting forward at canter, quickly building to a full-on gallop. After quickly checking that Jon and Copper were following, Billie faced front and just let Drummer run for the fun of it.
With Copper’s lower speed, though, when Jon pulled her to a halt in a secluded clearing, Billie had already dismounted and was in the process of taking off Drummer’s saddle.
“What kept you, cowboy?” She laughed.
“Can’t seem to find top gear on this thing!” Jon swung down off Copper, patting her sweating neck.
“Yeah. She’s kinda one-paced.” Billie agreed. “Still, she’s taking care of you, which is the main thing.”
“Yep. What can I say? The ladies love me!”
“Pffft!” Was the only response he got to that.
Billie had Drummer safely tied up, and while Jon unsaddled Copper she carried the saddlebags - and Drummer’s blanket - off behind some rocks. She laid the blanket down on a smooth patch of sandy ground, opening the picnic as Jon followed her into the hidden little space.
“What’s for lunch?” He asked like an overgrown kid, falling onto the blanket in an untidy heap.
They shared the sandwiches and fruit Billie had packed, Jon making a face when she handed him a juice box, but conceding the point when she explained they were far more robust than bottles.
“So what’s around here?” Jon asked innocently, Billie throwing him an incredulous look.
“Uh - nothing? Just what you saw when we rode up.”
“So there’s nobody else around, huh?”
Billie was starting to catch up to his thought process, and she smiled as she shook her head.
“Nobody but us chickens.”
“Good.” He smirked, reaching to grab her, Billie surprised when he pulled her to lie across his lap. Face down. “I owe you a spanking!”
He gave her a moment to protest - if she wanted to - then delivered a light smack to her ass. Another, slightly harder, smack brought a soft yelp but Jon realised her jeans offered too much protection.
“Wait a minute.” He growled, lifting her again so she knelt facing him.
He rose onto his knees, too, kissing her hungrily as he fought her jeans open, pushing them down to her thighs.
“S’better.” He muttered, slapping his hand onto her bare ass, a far more satisfying yelp coming from Billie this time. “Take ‘em all the way off.”
“No.” She shook her head defiantly, getting into the game, and Jon spanked her again.
“Now.”
This time she did, taking her boots off first. With Billie now naked from the waist down, Jon sat on the blanket, pulling her onto his lap. He spanked again, three or four good smacks, Billie squirming against him as the burn spread. Under her belly, she could feel him. Could feel him hard, hot even through his jeans, and she just wanted him inside her.
“Jon, please.”
“What?”
“Please…..I need you.” Billie thought she knew how to convince him, grabbing his hand, pulling it between her thighs so he could feel how wet she was. It backfired on her a little, though, as he chuckled.
“You horny, darlin’? You need to get off?”
She blushed. “Uh-huh.”
Jon grinned, tipping her onto her back, bringing their hands to her pussy again.
“Who’s stopping you?”
As Billie gasped at his suggestion, Jon caught hold of her panties, dragging them off then moving back, on his knees as he unzipped his jeans and shoved them to his knees.
“C’mon now.” He encouraged as she still hesitated, taking his dick in his hand, stroking the hard shaft. “Don’t be shy, Billie.”
“I want you.” She pouted.
“You’ll get me, if you’re a good girl.” He promised.
Almost against her volition, Billie started stroking herself, her eyes fixed on Jon as his fist pumped slowly on his dick. Jon groaned when Billie dipped two fingers into herself, but in the end he couldn’t bear to just watch, crawling forward to push her hand away, burying his own fingers in her flesh instead. Billie raised her fingers to her clit, stroking as Jon thrust his fingers inside her.
Kneeling between her legs, Jon watched Billie’s face as he twisted his fingers slightly, stroking inside her, then his thumb replaced her fingers on her clit, pushing her whimpering toward orgasm. The whimpering wasn’t enough for him though, and Jon moved closer, closing his lips around the swollen bud, sucking hard, nipping carefully with his teeth. Billie groaned at the touch of his teeth, then the sucking, with the fingers thrusting inside - three fingers pushing into her now - threw her over the edge, Billie screaming as she came.
Grinning in satisfaction, Jon crawled up her body, his mouth trailing up, pushing her shirt to her neck so he could bite gently on her nipples, sucking through her bra, finally working his way to her mouth. He kissed her, Billie moaning as he settled between her thighs, still not entering her but the tip of him just brushing over the soft, soaking wet flesh.
“Jon, please.”
“What?” He rocked his hips, brushing his cock against her clit, Billie reaching for him with a moan.
“Jon……no more…….please don’t……no……” His teasing, right on the heels of her orgasm, made her whimper, desperate for him to take her.
As her fingers reached down, though, Jon grabbed her wrists, pulling them high above her head, pinning her.
“What do you want?” He growled, pressing the swollen head inside. “This?”
“Uh-huh. Please, Jon, don’t make me………” She was going to say ‘wait’, but he brought his free hand down to grip her hip, holding her still as he drove into her hard.
Billie screamed again, fighting to free her hands, but Jon held on, his other hand grabbing her thigh, pulling it up, pulling her wider open as he slammed into her again. Not even trying to control himself, he fucked her hard as she came under him, screaming again, her voice fading to helpless sobs as Jon kept driving into her, humping his back as he pumped his hips furiously, cumming inside her with a roar of satisfaction, muffled as he bit on her shoulder through her shirt.
He was slumped on top of her, exhausted, still holding her pinned down, when he heard a sound behind him. A sound he’d only previously heard in movies. The sound of a rifle being cocked.
Chapter Thirty Five
They sat comfortably together on the couch, Billie’s legs across Jon’s lap, his hand idly stroking her bare feet. Deke was in front of the couch, having looked at them in slight annoyance when he realised there wasn’t space on the couch for him, slumping disconsolately to the floor.
“Hey - I forgot.” Billie said suddenly. “Did you get a hold of your mom yesterday?”
“Yeah.” Jon grimaced slightly. “She knows I’m still alive.”
Billie looked at him curiously, his tone not entirely happy. “What’s wrong?”
“Huh? Oh, nothin’, babe. Mom can just be a bit difficult sometimes. She doesn’t understand why I took off, why I had to get away.” He grinned. “She wasn’t impressed to hear I was staying with some rancher, paying my way by helping out.”
“Helping out?” Billie dug a heel down against his thigh. “And I thought we were paying each other in ‘kind’ for the helping and the staying.”
“We are, darlin’.” Jon laughed. “We sure as hell are, but I wasn’t about to tell mom that!”
“Probably a good idea.” Billie replied, not finishing what was in her head. Not saying that Jon’s mom would probably have told Dorothea, and she wouldn’t understand her man sleeping with another woman, regardless of whether or not there were strings attached.
“Yeah.” Jon agreed. “Anyway, to answer your question, yes, I called home and spoke with mom. Spoke with my youngest brother, too - Matt.”
“Does he miss you, too?”
“I guess. He’s joined some art class, because there’s a girl in the class he likes. Crazy the things a guy will do for a woman.”
“Oh, really?!” Billie laughed, digging him with her heel again until he winced. “And, tell me, why exactly did you start a band?”
“For the music.” He said, straight-faced, then cracked into a broad grin. “Well, the music and the…….uh, the……..”
“Pussy?” Billie suggested, and Jon laughed.
“Yeah. That’d be it.” He turned serious. “I just don’t know if I want to go back to that life, though.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Billie advised. “Just let things happen in their own time, Jon.”
“Yeah.” He said again, scratching a hand through his hair as he looked at her. “But what I will need to do - soon - is talk with Richie. I need to see if I can salvage our friendship at least. Sounds stupid, I know, but I miss him being around. He’s been my wingman for the last few years, and I never realised what that meant until it was gone.”
“You don’t know it’s gone.” She said gently, trying to steer him away from the sadness. “There are very few things broken that can’t be fixed, Jon. When you’re ready - when you can do it and mean it - go see him, talk to him about it.”
“Yeah.” He said a third time, then forced his mind away from hurtful things and lightly slapped Billie’s feet. “So what we doin’ tomorrow, then?”
She glanced at the clock and giggled. “You mean today?”
Jon looked, seeing it was just after midnight. “Uh-huh. Today.”
“I was thinking - if you like - we could pack a picnic and take another ride. There’s a really nice mountain ride, off toward Jace’s ranch. Bit further than when we rode to the river, but it’s lovely.”
“Sounds good to me.” He agreed with a grin.
“We will need to head off early, though.” Billie cautioned.
“How early?” Jon asked suspiciously. He had a feeling that ‘rockstar’ early wasn’t the same as ‘cowgirl’ early.
“So long as we’re on the trail by eight thirty we’ll be fine. Otherwise we’ll be riding back in the dark.”
“Eight thirty in the morning?” He asked incredulously, only putting it on a little.
“Yeeaah.” Billie drawled slowly. “Don’t you do mornings?”
“Not unless I’m doing you in the morning.”
“Well, in that case we’d need to be up even earlier.”
Jon groaned, laying his head back on the couch then rolling it to the side, peering at her from one blue eye.
“What time do we need to get up, then?”
“Seven thirty?”
“Seven thirty in the morning.” He muttered, then grinned. “Just for you, okay.”
“In which case, I guess we should think about getting some sleep.” Billie dropped her feet to the floor, just missing Deke, then she looked at Jon curiously. “Does it bother you? That I still leave you to sleep on the couch even though we’ve…….”
“Truly? No, not really.” He’d wondered if either of them would ever raise the subject. “I don’t know why, but it feels……more appropriate, I guess. Doesn’t bother me, Billie.”
“I’m glad. I didn’t want you to think I was just, I dunno, using you for sex.”
“I know you’re not.” He grinned. “You use me as a pack mule, too, to shift hay and feed and……..”
Billie’s laugh cut across his words, and Jon got off the couch, too, needing to flip out the mechanism to get his bed ready.
“G’night, Billie.” He kissed her gently.
“G’night…..cowboy.” She replied. “Deke? You coming?”
The dog lifted his head, looking at Billie, then dropped his chin onto his paws again. Jon looked down and laughed.
“I think that’s a no.”
“Looks that way. Suit yourself. G’night guys.”
When Billie returned to the living room in the morning, already showered and dressed at seven thirty, she found the two boys in the same position as the morning before - Jon asleep with Deke’s chin on his belly. She started coffee then pulled on a pair of shoes and headed out from the kitchen to the barn, feeding the horses so they’d have time to finish before they were saddled. When she returned to the house, the foldout couch was closed, Deke lying on the cushions, and Jon was nowhere to be seen. Taking a couple of steps toward the bathroom, Billie heard the shower and smiled. Seemed like he’d managed to wake up without her help.
She fixed a picnic lunch, packing it into the saddlebags she’d brought from the barn, and she was just pouring coffee when Jon appeared, freshly showered and dressed in jeans and t shirt.
“G’mornin’.” He grinned, walking over to kiss her.
“It is, isn’t it?” Billie smiled. “It’s gorgeous out there. Perfect day for riding.”
“Yeah? Cool. Can I help?”
“Sure. Unless you want anything else, why don’t you make some toast. I’m not very hungry this morning.”
Jon made toast for them both and they didn’t even bother to sit at the table, crunching their way through breakfast while standing at the counter. Brushing away crumbs, they finished getting ready, finding boots and hats, then Jon hefted the saddlebags onto his shoulder and they went out to the corral.
Billie kept half an eye on Jon as he brushed and saddled Copper, only having to help when the wily old mare clenched her teeth shut against the bit, refusing to open her mouth for Jon. Billie’s more expert hand, slipping a thumb into the corner of the mare’s mouth, solved the problem, and Jon scolded Copper good-naturedly as he finished getting her ready.
The saddlebags were on Drummer, since Billie was lighter than Jon and her horse was younger and stronger, and they led the horses out of the corral before checking their cinches and mounting. With Billie leading the way, they rode away from the ranch, heading down the track toward the road, but soon branching off to the side, disappearing into the forest, only their voices betraying their location.
“Hey - I forgot.” Billie said suddenly. “Did you get a hold of your mom yesterday?”
“Yeah.” Jon grimaced slightly. “She knows I’m still alive.”
Billie looked at him curiously, his tone not entirely happy. “What’s wrong?”
“Huh? Oh, nothin’, babe. Mom can just be a bit difficult sometimes. She doesn’t understand why I took off, why I had to get away.” He grinned. “She wasn’t impressed to hear I was staying with some rancher, paying my way by helping out.”
“Helping out?” Billie dug a heel down against his thigh. “And I thought we were paying each other in ‘kind’ for the helping and the staying.”
“We are, darlin’.” Jon laughed. “We sure as hell are, but I wasn’t about to tell mom that!”
“Probably a good idea.” Billie replied, not finishing what was in her head. Not saying that Jon’s mom would probably have told Dorothea, and she wouldn’t understand her man sleeping with another woman, regardless of whether or not there were strings attached.
“Yeah.” Jon agreed. “Anyway, to answer your question, yes, I called home and spoke with mom. Spoke with my youngest brother, too - Matt.”
“Does he miss you, too?”
“I guess. He’s joined some art class, because there’s a girl in the class he likes. Crazy the things a guy will do for a woman.”
“Oh, really?!” Billie laughed, digging him with her heel again until he winced. “And, tell me, why exactly did you start a band?”
“For the music.” He said, straight-faced, then cracked into a broad grin. “Well, the music and the…….uh, the……..”
“Pussy?” Billie suggested, and Jon laughed.
“Yeah. That’d be it.” He turned serious. “I just don’t know if I want to go back to that life, though.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Billie advised. “Just let things happen in their own time, Jon.”
“Yeah.” He said again, scratching a hand through his hair as he looked at her. “But what I will need to do - soon - is talk with Richie. I need to see if I can salvage our friendship at least. Sounds stupid, I know, but I miss him being around. He’s been my wingman for the last few years, and I never realised what that meant until it was gone.”
“You don’t know it’s gone.” She said gently, trying to steer him away from the sadness. “There are very few things broken that can’t be fixed, Jon. When you’re ready - when you can do it and mean it - go see him, talk to him about it.”
“Yeah.” He said a third time, then forced his mind away from hurtful things and lightly slapped Billie’s feet. “So what we doin’ tomorrow, then?”
She glanced at the clock and giggled. “You mean today?”
Jon looked, seeing it was just after midnight. “Uh-huh. Today.”
“I was thinking - if you like - we could pack a picnic and take another ride. There’s a really nice mountain ride, off toward Jace’s ranch. Bit further than when we rode to the river, but it’s lovely.”
“Sounds good to me.” He agreed with a grin.
“We will need to head off early, though.” Billie cautioned.
“How early?” Jon asked suspiciously. He had a feeling that ‘rockstar’ early wasn’t the same as ‘cowgirl’ early.
“So long as we’re on the trail by eight thirty we’ll be fine. Otherwise we’ll be riding back in the dark.”
“Eight thirty in the morning?” He asked incredulously, only putting it on a little.
“Yeeaah.” Billie drawled slowly. “Don’t you do mornings?”
“Not unless I’m doing you in the morning.”
“Well, in that case we’d need to be up even earlier.”
Jon groaned, laying his head back on the couch then rolling it to the side, peering at her from one blue eye.
“What time do we need to get up, then?”
“Seven thirty?”
“Seven thirty in the morning.” He muttered, then grinned. “Just for you, okay.”
“In which case, I guess we should think about getting some sleep.” Billie dropped her feet to the floor, just missing Deke, then she looked at Jon curiously. “Does it bother you? That I still leave you to sleep on the couch even though we’ve…….”
“Truly? No, not really.” He’d wondered if either of them would ever raise the subject. “I don’t know why, but it feels……more appropriate, I guess. Doesn’t bother me, Billie.”
“I’m glad. I didn’t want you to think I was just, I dunno, using you for sex.”
“I know you’re not.” He grinned. “You use me as a pack mule, too, to shift hay and feed and……..”
Billie’s laugh cut across his words, and Jon got off the couch, too, needing to flip out the mechanism to get his bed ready.
“G’night, Billie.” He kissed her gently.
“G’night…..cowboy.” She replied. “Deke? You coming?”
The dog lifted his head, looking at Billie, then dropped his chin onto his paws again. Jon looked down and laughed.
“I think that’s a no.”
“Looks that way. Suit yourself. G’night guys.”
When Billie returned to the living room in the morning, already showered and dressed at seven thirty, she found the two boys in the same position as the morning before - Jon asleep with Deke’s chin on his belly. She started coffee then pulled on a pair of shoes and headed out from the kitchen to the barn, feeding the horses so they’d have time to finish before they were saddled. When she returned to the house, the foldout couch was closed, Deke lying on the cushions, and Jon was nowhere to be seen. Taking a couple of steps toward the bathroom, Billie heard the shower and smiled. Seemed like he’d managed to wake up without her help.
She fixed a picnic lunch, packing it into the saddlebags she’d brought from the barn, and she was just pouring coffee when Jon appeared, freshly showered and dressed in jeans and t shirt.
“G’mornin’.” He grinned, walking over to kiss her.
“It is, isn’t it?” Billie smiled. “It’s gorgeous out there. Perfect day for riding.”
“Yeah? Cool. Can I help?”
“Sure. Unless you want anything else, why don’t you make some toast. I’m not very hungry this morning.”
Jon made toast for them both and they didn’t even bother to sit at the table, crunching their way through breakfast while standing at the counter. Brushing away crumbs, they finished getting ready, finding boots and hats, then Jon hefted the saddlebags onto his shoulder and they went out to the corral.
Billie kept half an eye on Jon as he brushed and saddled Copper, only having to help when the wily old mare clenched her teeth shut against the bit, refusing to open her mouth for Jon. Billie’s more expert hand, slipping a thumb into the corner of the mare’s mouth, solved the problem, and Jon scolded Copper good-naturedly as he finished getting her ready.
The saddlebags were on Drummer, since Billie was lighter than Jon and her horse was younger and stronger, and they led the horses out of the corral before checking their cinches and mounting. With Billie leading the way, they rode away from the ranch, heading down the track toward the road, but soon branching off to the side, disappearing into the forest, only their voices betraying their location.
Chapter Thirty Four
Without another word, Jon carried Billie along to the bathroom, pausing to let her open the door then walking inside. He lowered her to her feet, grinning at her as he tugged the wet bandana from her head, tucking it into his back pocket for possible future use.
“Do you know what I wanted to do when we were out in the woods?” He asked, twisting her braids around his fingers, his eyes on her breasts.
“What?” Billie slid her hands under his t shirt, rubbing against his sides.
“I wanted to take your jeans down to your knees.” His hands were on the waist of the jeans now, unbuttoning and unzipping, pushing them down a little. “Then I wanted to turn you around.” Both hands slipped inside the denim, cupping her ass. “And I wanted to bend you over my bike and fuck you.”
“So why didn’t you?” Billie was following his example, unzipping Jon’s jeans and pushing them down.
“Why?” He’d managed to get one hand deep enough in the denim that his fingers could find the wet center of her, stroking against her through the damp panties. “Because I was having enough trouble breathing when you had my dick in your mouth, let alone forming coherent thoughts.”
Billie squirmed as his fingers edged under the side of her panties, flesh on flesh now.
“So fuck me now.”
“I thought we were taking a shower?” Jon said, his dick clearly saying forget it.
Tilting her head up to him, Billie kissed Jon, his hands tightening on her flesh as he kissed her back, probing deep into her mouth with his tongue. When they parted, she smiled as she whispered to him.
“We can shower afterward.”
“Good thinking.” Jon grinned. “Take off your shirt.”
While Billie removed her t shirt and bra, Jon pulled her jeans down, dropping to his knees and pulling them all the way off. He stood, shucking his own jeans and shirt, both naked now as he backed her toward the wall, tongues dueling again in a passionate, hungry kiss. Almost at the wall, Jon luckily opened his eyes, grabbing Billie and pushing her to one side before she cracked her head against the long wooden shelf. She grunted softly as he slammed her against the smoothly painted wall, but never lifted her mouth from his, letting Jon lift her up, one hand dropping between them so she could wrap her fingers around him, guiding the hot shaft until the tip entered her. Jon pulled her down onto him, groaning as she took him in, and as Billie wrapped her legs around his hips he started thrusting into her.
Jon dropped his mouth onto her neck, licking the lingering rain from her skin, and he heard Billie gasp suddenly, the sound making him lift his head to look at her. She was staring over his shoulder, her face flushed, and her expression made him ask.
“What is it?” He growled against her ear. “What are you watching?”
“Us.” She whispered, still staring across at the long mirror on the facing wall, the mirror that was reflecting Jon’s back view, his muscled legs and ass, pale skin above deep tan, the fall of thick wavy hair on his back, seeing her own legs around him, her head back against the wall.
Twisting his head, Jon looked over his shoulder, seeing what had captured Billie’s interest. It raised his own interest, too, but in a slightly different way, and he grinned, strong hands lifting her again, lifting her off him.
“What…..?” Billie gasped, shocked that he’d withdrawn from her.
“Come with me.” He tried to untangle her legs from around him.
“I was planning to.” She pouted, but she thought maybe she knew what he was thinking, letting her feet fall to the floor.
Jon kissed her again, then led her across to the mirror.
“I want to watch, too.” He purred, turning her to face the mirror.
Billie leaned forward, her hands on the frame of the mirror, and Jon gripped her hips, entering her hard, watching her face in the mirror as she gasped in surprise. He watched the mirror as he started driving into her again, not looking at himself but constantly watching Billie, watching her face, watching her breasts bounce every time he drove home.
Her head fell forward, Billie’s hands tight on the mirror as she felt the tremors start in her thighs, and Jon growled behind her as he felt her tightening.
“Oh, Jesus……..Billie……….stay with me, baby………stay with me….” His fingers dug painfully into her hips, steadying her as his thrusts accelerated, the minor pain focusing her mind from the cascading pleasure, keeping her back from orgasm.
Jon watched her head lift again, her mouth open as she groaned in pleasure.
“Jon…..” She wanted to touch him, but right now all the strength of her arms was being used to hold her against the mirror, to hold against his pounding thrusts.
“Yeah, baby.” His voice was hoarse, and Billie watched him in the mirror, seeing the sweat on his face, the sheen of it on his chest, too.
His biceps were bulging hard with the pressure of his grip on her, and she could only imagine how his ass was clenching as he drove his cock deep into her body. Jon’s grip tilted her hips, letting his thrusts edge a fraction deeper, and Billie knew she couldn’t hold back much longer, then she saw it in Jon’s face. Saw that he was right on the edge, too, and she kept her head up, watching his handsome face.
“Ah, fuck, Billie………Billie…….”
Jon’s grunt of her name was the last thing Billie heard before her orgasm shut down everything but pleasure, and she didn’t even know she screamed his name as Jon’s own voice rose to a shout. When her mind started to function again, Billie realised she still stood bent over at the mirror, her arms still braced against the frame, and she could feel Jon still inside her. Focusing on the mirror, saw him still standing with his head back, then as if he felt her eyes he slowly raised his head, looking into the mirror, meeting her reflected gaze.
“Jesus.” He muttered, only now feeling the pain of cramp in his hands where he held her. “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to, but…….”
“S’fine.” Billie gasped as Jon pulled back, sliding free of her. “I’m kinda glad we didn’t do that out in the woods, though.”
“Why?” He knew why.
“Because after……..” Billie turned around, smirking at him. “After being fucked like that, there’s no way I could sit a bike. Not for a while anyway.”
He chuckled, pleased by the almost compliment.
“And that’s a good thing, right?” He clarified.
“Oh, hell, yeah. A very, very good thing, Jon.” She kissed him lightly, her lips still tender from the earlier kisses. “Shower?”
“Shower.” He agreed.
They showered together, standing in the deep tub, tenderness replacing lust as they washed each other, Jon’s touch gentle as he ran a soapy sponge between Billie’s thighs, soothing the sensitive skin with a kiss as he finished. Contritely, he kissed each of the dark bruises emerging on her hips, one for each of his fingertips as he’d driven his fingers into her, Billie smiling and stroking his hair then taking her turn with the sponge. On most normal occasions, Billie’s hands on his dick would have brought him erect, but right now his body said no - no more right now - and they finished the shower by kissing under the rain of warm water, enjoying each other.
As they dried off, Billie glanced surreptitiously at Jon. She wasn’t sure if he knew it yet, but she could feel things changing between them, and it felt right. They each pulled on a robe - Jon jokingly reaching for the black satin - then headed to the kitchen to find some food and coffee. While the coffee dripped, Billie returned to the bathroom, gathering up their wet, abandoned clothes from the floor and bringing them through to wash, and Jon made himself useful by making sandwiches to restore their energy levels.
“Do you know what I wanted to do when we were out in the woods?” He asked, twisting her braids around his fingers, his eyes on her breasts.
“What?” Billie slid her hands under his t shirt, rubbing against his sides.
“I wanted to take your jeans down to your knees.” His hands were on the waist of the jeans now, unbuttoning and unzipping, pushing them down a little. “Then I wanted to turn you around.” Both hands slipped inside the denim, cupping her ass. “And I wanted to bend you over my bike and fuck you.”
“So why didn’t you?” Billie was following his example, unzipping Jon’s jeans and pushing them down.
“Why?” He’d managed to get one hand deep enough in the denim that his fingers could find the wet center of her, stroking against her through the damp panties. “Because I was having enough trouble breathing when you had my dick in your mouth, let alone forming coherent thoughts.”
Billie squirmed as his fingers edged under the side of her panties, flesh on flesh now.
“So fuck me now.”
“I thought we were taking a shower?” Jon said, his dick clearly saying forget it.
Tilting her head up to him, Billie kissed Jon, his hands tightening on her flesh as he kissed her back, probing deep into her mouth with his tongue. When they parted, she smiled as she whispered to him.
“We can shower afterward.”
“Good thinking.” Jon grinned. “Take off your shirt.”
While Billie removed her t shirt and bra, Jon pulled her jeans down, dropping to his knees and pulling them all the way off. He stood, shucking his own jeans and shirt, both naked now as he backed her toward the wall, tongues dueling again in a passionate, hungry kiss. Almost at the wall, Jon luckily opened his eyes, grabbing Billie and pushing her to one side before she cracked her head against the long wooden shelf. She grunted softly as he slammed her against the smoothly painted wall, but never lifted her mouth from his, letting Jon lift her up, one hand dropping between them so she could wrap her fingers around him, guiding the hot shaft until the tip entered her. Jon pulled her down onto him, groaning as she took him in, and as Billie wrapped her legs around his hips he started thrusting into her.
Jon dropped his mouth onto her neck, licking the lingering rain from her skin, and he heard Billie gasp suddenly, the sound making him lift his head to look at her. She was staring over his shoulder, her face flushed, and her expression made him ask.
“What is it?” He growled against her ear. “What are you watching?”
“Us.” She whispered, still staring across at the long mirror on the facing wall, the mirror that was reflecting Jon’s back view, his muscled legs and ass, pale skin above deep tan, the fall of thick wavy hair on his back, seeing her own legs around him, her head back against the wall.
Twisting his head, Jon looked over his shoulder, seeing what had captured Billie’s interest. It raised his own interest, too, but in a slightly different way, and he grinned, strong hands lifting her again, lifting her off him.
“What…..?” Billie gasped, shocked that he’d withdrawn from her.
“Come with me.” He tried to untangle her legs from around him.
“I was planning to.” She pouted, but she thought maybe she knew what he was thinking, letting her feet fall to the floor.
Jon kissed her again, then led her across to the mirror.
“I want to watch, too.” He purred, turning her to face the mirror.
Billie leaned forward, her hands on the frame of the mirror, and Jon gripped her hips, entering her hard, watching her face in the mirror as she gasped in surprise. He watched the mirror as he started driving into her again, not looking at himself but constantly watching Billie, watching her face, watching her breasts bounce every time he drove home.
Her head fell forward, Billie’s hands tight on the mirror as she felt the tremors start in her thighs, and Jon growled behind her as he felt her tightening.
“Oh, Jesus……..Billie……….stay with me, baby………stay with me….” His fingers dug painfully into her hips, steadying her as his thrusts accelerated, the minor pain focusing her mind from the cascading pleasure, keeping her back from orgasm.
Jon watched her head lift again, her mouth open as she groaned in pleasure.
“Jon…..” She wanted to touch him, but right now all the strength of her arms was being used to hold her against the mirror, to hold against his pounding thrusts.
“Yeah, baby.” His voice was hoarse, and Billie watched him in the mirror, seeing the sweat on his face, the sheen of it on his chest, too.
His biceps were bulging hard with the pressure of his grip on her, and she could only imagine how his ass was clenching as he drove his cock deep into her body. Jon’s grip tilted her hips, letting his thrusts edge a fraction deeper, and Billie knew she couldn’t hold back much longer, then she saw it in Jon’s face. Saw that he was right on the edge, too, and she kept her head up, watching his handsome face.
“Ah, fuck, Billie………Billie…….”
Jon’s grunt of her name was the last thing Billie heard before her orgasm shut down everything but pleasure, and she didn’t even know she screamed his name as Jon’s own voice rose to a shout. When her mind started to function again, Billie realised she still stood bent over at the mirror, her arms still braced against the frame, and she could feel Jon still inside her. Focusing on the mirror, saw him still standing with his head back, then as if he felt her eyes he slowly raised his head, looking into the mirror, meeting her reflected gaze.
“Jesus.” He muttered, only now feeling the pain of cramp in his hands where he held her. “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to, but…….”
“S’fine.” Billie gasped as Jon pulled back, sliding free of her. “I’m kinda glad we didn’t do that out in the woods, though.”
“Why?” He knew why.
“Because after……..” Billie turned around, smirking at him. “After being fucked like that, there’s no way I could sit a bike. Not for a while anyway.”
He chuckled, pleased by the almost compliment.
“And that’s a good thing, right?” He clarified.
“Oh, hell, yeah. A very, very good thing, Jon.” She kissed him lightly, her lips still tender from the earlier kisses. “Shower?”
“Shower.” He agreed.
They showered together, standing in the deep tub, tenderness replacing lust as they washed each other, Jon’s touch gentle as he ran a soapy sponge between Billie’s thighs, soothing the sensitive skin with a kiss as he finished. Contritely, he kissed each of the dark bruises emerging on her hips, one for each of his fingertips as he’d driven his fingers into her, Billie smiling and stroking his hair then taking her turn with the sponge. On most normal occasions, Billie’s hands on his dick would have brought him erect, but right now his body said no - no more right now - and they finished the shower by kissing under the rain of warm water, enjoying each other.
As they dried off, Billie glanced surreptitiously at Jon. She wasn’t sure if he knew it yet, but she could feel things changing between them, and it felt right. They each pulled on a robe - Jon jokingly reaching for the black satin - then headed to the kitchen to find some food and coffee. While the coffee dripped, Billie returned to the bathroom, gathering up their wet, abandoned clothes from the floor and bringing them through to wash, and Jon made himself useful by making sandwiches to restore their energy levels.
Chapter Thirty Three
With Billie giving directions, they rode along the highway at a sedate pace, enjoying the scenery and the closeness. As they rode, Jon suddenly twisted his head to speak.
“Aren’t there any hills or mountains around here?” As far as he could see, the land stretched out in a uniform sandy brown plain.
“You’re kidding, right?” Billie laughed. “Darlin’, you’re in Kansas. We invented flat!”
“So where we goin’ anyway?”
“Uhh……” Billie leaned past Jon, looking ahead. “You’re taking the next right.”
They turned onto a dirt road, Jon slowing the bike to prevent them vanishing in a dust cloud. The road led into a forested area, and Jon chuckled.
“Damn. I’ve been kidnapped by a beautiful cowgirl. What the fuck’s down here?”
Billie chuckled throatily, her hands on Jon’s thighs for balance on the uneven road. She slowly slid her hands across his spread legs, down between his thighs.
“What’s down here?” She asked, caressing him through the denim.
Jon groaned softly, trying to keep his attention on the bike. Billie shifted a tiny bit closer, her mouth on his neck as she began to unfasten his jeans.
“Jesus, Billie……you tryin’ to make me run us off the road?”
“No.” She slipped both hands into his jeans, easing his cock through. “You concentrate on the road, I’ll concentrate on this.”
She closed both hands around him, stroking slowly, and Jon groaned again, his flesh hardening under her attentions. He looked ahead, not particularly paying attention to the road itself, but searching for somewhere to get the bike out of sight. There was a gap leading into the trees off to one side, and he steered for that as Billie nibbled his neck, peering over his shoulder to watch her own hands on his dick.
Jon got the bike out of sight - or at least as out of sight as he could - and killed the engine, leaning back against Billie as she ran her hands along the now-hard length of him. He reached a hand back, cupping her head while she still teased his neck with her teeth.
“Billie…….” He breathed. “Let’s get off this fuckin’ bike. I need you.”
She bit on him again as she thought, then slid her hands off him.
“Just turn around.” She told him, leaning away so he could move.
Not entirely sure what she had in mind, Jon obeyed nonetheless, getting off the bike and turning, straddling the seat again but facing Billie this time. He pulled her in, kissing her, feeling her hot hands on him again, then she lifted one hand, pushing him away, pushing him backward until he got the hint. Leaning back, he winced suddenly as the ignition switch caught him in the back, and he sat up, tugging at his jacket.
“Wait, Billie. I……..aw, fuck…..”
She wasn’t interested in waiting, leaning down to suck the head of his upthrust cock, and Jon fought out of his jacket, bundling it onto the bike so he could lie back more comfortably. Billie shifted herself backward as far as she could, opening space between them, making it easier to sink him into her mouth. With his jeans only open enough to release his erection, Billie couldn’t get her hands to his balls, so she slid a hand under his shirt, caressing up to his chest, pinching a nipple as she sucked on him.
Jon lay back, trying to hold himself back, wanting the feelings coursing through him to last as long as they could. What he really wanted was to bury himself inside Billie’s hot, wet pussy, but when he’d tried to tug her head away she’d growled, pulling on the mat of his chest hair so he winced, her message loud and clear. This time at least, Billie was taking charge. He gave in, his legs spread on the bike, a hand bracing him on one of the fuel caps, the other hand tight on the back of her head, the heat of the bike’s engine bleeding through his jacket.
Billie raised up, her mouth just on the tip of him, her hand working on his shaft, and Jon’s control began to slip away, the rhythmic sucking getting him closer to the edge. He held it until Billie dropped her head quickly, taking him all the way in, bobbing her head before drawing back to the tip, licking around then sucking harder. Groaning, Jon let go, his head falling back as his cum spurted into Billie’s mouth, feeling her swallow instantly, still licking around his swollen head.
He was still gasping as she slowly released him, sitting up again with a pleased look on her face, her tongue darting out to touch the corner of her lip. Jon raised his head to look at her, pulling himself to a sitting position and grinning at her, a shit-eating grin of satisfaction.
“You look pleased with yourself.” Billie winked. “You look like you just got blown.”
“Funny that.” Jon grinned as she reached to touch him again, tucking him tenderly back into his jeans. “I just did. Some crazy cowgirl just attacked me on my own bike.”
“Yeah.” She giggled. “I heard you protesting.”
Jon shrugged, getting off the bike a little awkwardly - he’d gotten on there backward easily enough, but he’d had great incentive. He tucked himself more comfortably into his jeans, zipping and buttoning while looking at Billie.
“Seems a bit one-sided.” He said, moving in to kiss her, tasting the musk of himself in her mouth.
“You can make it up to me later.” She said as he left her mouth again.
“I could make it up to you right now.” His hand dipped between her thighs, pressing the seam of her jeans into her, rubbing gently.
Billie gasped, already turned on from pleasuring Jon, but she shook her head.
“Not quite so easy for me getting out of my jeans, now is it? Anyway, looks like it’s going to rain.”
“It is?” Jon looked at the sky. Dark clouds were gathering, a chill stealing into the day. “You could be right.”
“I am. We should head back. I know bikes and wet roads aren’t a good combination.”
“No, they’re not.” Jon had seen enough smashed up bikes - and bikers - to know she was right.
He swept his jacket up, pulling it on, a hand going to the crotch of his jeans, tugging carefully, easing the denim off still-wet skin. Last thing he needed was his dick getting chafed raw on the ride back. He began to get onto the bike, then paused.
“Wait a sec.” He purred, grabbing Billie by her braids and kissing her hungrily, leaving her panting. “That should hold you till we get back.”
Smirking, he swung onto the bike, Billie shuffling up against him again, her hands on his thighs, then one sneaking down to his groin again.
“I could hold this till we get back.”
Jon groaned. “And then we will end up in a ditch. Behave!”
“Pfft. Where’s the fun in that?” She groused, and he knew she was pouting. Laughing, Jon started the bike and turned it around, heading back to the road.
The rain caught them as they reached the end of Billie’s property, a torrential downpour that had them soaked in strange places by the time they got to the house. Jon rode the Harley carefully right into the garage, switching off then dismounting, helping Billie off, too. They peered out through the open doorway, then Billie shrugged.
“It’s on for the day, I think. Hell, we can’t get much wetter!” With that, she headed out into the rainstorm.
Jon followed, neither of them even bothering to run. Like Billie had said, they were pretty soaked already, so they walked to the house, going up onto the porch and into shelter. Deke was lying on the porch, watching them incredulously, wondering if humans really didn’t have the sense to get in out of the rain. When Billie bent to stroke him, water dripping onto his thick coat, the dog gave her a reproachful look, Jon laughing at the expression.
“He doesn’t like getting wet?”
“Nope. Well, not unless he’s jumping in a river. Crazy dog.”
They dripped their way indoors, leaving their boots and jackets by the door. Billie went straight for the kitchen, starting a pot of much-needed coffee, then she turned to Jon.
“D’you want to shower? Warm up a bit?”
“Great idea.” He moved to her, wrapping his arms around her.
“Shower’s that way.” Billie pointed toward the bathroom.
“I know.” Jon grinned, changing his grip and lifting her in his arms. “But you’re wet, too. May as well shower together.” He smirked, biting on her shoulder. “And I can get you a better kind of wet.”
Billie gave a purring chuckle, winding her arms around Jon’s neck and kissing him, allowing him to carry her to the bathroom.
“Aren’t there any hills or mountains around here?” As far as he could see, the land stretched out in a uniform sandy brown plain.
“You’re kidding, right?” Billie laughed. “Darlin’, you’re in Kansas. We invented flat!”
“So where we goin’ anyway?”
“Uhh……” Billie leaned past Jon, looking ahead. “You’re taking the next right.”
They turned onto a dirt road, Jon slowing the bike to prevent them vanishing in a dust cloud. The road led into a forested area, and Jon chuckled.
“Damn. I’ve been kidnapped by a beautiful cowgirl. What the fuck’s down here?”
Billie chuckled throatily, her hands on Jon’s thighs for balance on the uneven road. She slowly slid her hands across his spread legs, down between his thighs.
“What’s down here?” She asked, caressing him through the denim.
Jon groaned softly, trying to keep his attention on the bike. Billie shifted a tiny bit closer, her mouth on his neck as she began to unfasten his jeans.
“Jesus, Billie……you tryin’ to make me run us off the road?”
“No.” She slipped both hands into his jeans, easing his cock through. “You concentrate on the road, I’ll concentrate on this.”
She closed both hands around him, stroking slowly, and Jon groaned again, his flesh hardening under her attentions. He looked ahead, not particularly paying attention to the road itself, but searching for somewhere to get the bike out of sight. There was a gap leading into the trees off to one side, and he steered for that as Billie nibbled his neck, peering over his shoulder to watch her own hands on his dick.
Jon got the bike out of sight - or at least as out of sight as he could - and killed the engine, leaning back against Billie as she ran her hands along the now-hard length of him. He reached a hand back, cupping her head while she still teased his neck with her teeth.
“Billie…….” He breathed. “Let’s get off this fuckin’ bike. I need you.”
She bit on him again as she thought, then slid her hands off him.
“Just turn around.” She told him, leaning away so he could move.
Not entirely sure what she had in mind, Jon obeyed nonetheless, getting off the bike and turning, straddling the seat again but facing Billie this time. He pulled her in, kissing her, feeling her hot hands on him again, then she lifted one hand, pushing him away, pushing him backward until he got the hint. Leaning back, he winced suddenly as the ignition switch caught him in the back, and he sat up, tugging at his jacket.
“Wait, Billie. I……..aw, fuck…..”
She wasn’t interested in waiting, leaning down to suck the head of his upthrust cock, and Jon fought out of his jacket, bundling it onto the bike so he could lie back more comfortably. Billie shifted herself backward as far as she could, opening space between them, making it easier to sink him into her mouth. With his jeans only open enough to release his erection, Billie couldn’t get her hands to his balls, so she slid a hand under his shirt, caressing up to his chest, pinching a nipple as she sucked on him.
Jon lay back, trying to hold himself back, wanting the feelings coursing through him to last as long as they could. What he really wanted was to bury himself inside Billie’s hot, wet pussy, but when he’d tried to tug her head away she’d growled, pulling on the mat of his chest hair so he winced, her message loud and clear. This time at least, Billie was taking charge. He gave in, his legs spread on the bike, a hand bracing him on one of the fuel caps, the other hand tight on the back of her head, the heat of the bike’s engine bleeding through his jacket.
Billie raised up, her mouth just on the tip of him, her hand working on his shaft, and Jon’s control began to slip away, the rhythmic sucking getting him closer to the edge. He held it until Billie dropped her head quickly, taking him all the way in, bobbing her head before drawing back to the tip, licking around then sucking harder. Groaning, Jon let go, his head falling back as his cum spurted into Billie’s mouth, feeling her swallow instantly, still licking around his swollen head.
He was still gasping as she slowly released him, sitting up again with a pleased look on her face, her tongue darting out to touch the corner of her lip. Jon raised his head to look at her, pulling himself to a sitting position and grinning at her, a shit-eating grin of satisfaction.
“You look pleased with yourself.” Billie winked. “You look like you just got blown.”
“Funny that.” Jon grinned as she reached to touch him again, tucking him tenderly back into his jeans. “I just did. Some crazy cowgirl just attacked me on my own bike.”
“Yeah.” She giggled. “I heard you protesting.”
Jon shrugged, getting off the bike a little awkwardly - he’d gotten on there backward easily enough, but he’d had great incentive. He tucked himself more comfortably into his jeans, zipping and buttoning while looking at Billie.
“Seems a bit one-sided.” He said, moving in to kiss her, tasting the musk of himself in her mouth.
“You can make it up to me later.” She said as he left her mouth again.
“I could make it up to you right now.” His hand dipped between her thighs, pressing the seam of her jeans into her, rubbing gently.
Billie gasped, already turned on from pleasuring Jon, but she shook her head.
“Not quite so easy for me getting out of my jeans, now is it? Anyway, looks like it’s going to rain.”
“It is?” Jon looked at the sky. Dark clouds were gathering, a chill stealing into the day. “You could be right.”
“I am. We should head back. I know bikes and wet roads aren’t a good combination.”
“No, they’re not.” Jon had seen enough smashed up bikes - and bikers - to know she was right.
He swept his jacket up, pulling it on, a hand going to the crotch of his jeans, tugging carefully, easing the denim off still-wet skin. Last thing he needed was his dick getting chafed raw on the ride back. He began to get onto the bike, then paused.
“Wait a sec.” He purred, grabbing Billie by her braids and kissing her hungrily, leaving her panting. “That should hold you till we get back.”
Smirking, he swung onto the bike, Billie shuffling up against him again, her hands on his thighs, then one sneaking down to his groin again.
“I could hold this till we get back.”
Jon groaned. “And then we will end up in a ditch. Behave!”
“Pfft. Where’s the fun in that?” She groused, and he knew she was pouting. Laughing, Jon started the bike and turned it around, heading back to the road.
The rain caught them as they reached the end of Billie’s property, a torrential downpour that had them soaked in strange places by the time they got to the house. Jon rode the Harley carefully right into the garage, switching off then dismounting, helping Billie off, too. They peered out through the open doorway, then Billie shrugged.
“It’s on for the day, I think. Hell, we can’t get much wetter!” With that, she headed out into the rainstorm.
Jon followed, neither of them even bothering to run. Like Billie had said, they were pretty soaked already, so they walked to the house, going up onto the porch and into shelter. Deke was lying on the porch, watching them incredulously, wondering if humans really didn’t have the sense to get in out of the rain. When Billie bent to stroke him, water dripping onto his thick coat, the dog gave her a reproachful look, Jon laughing at the expression.
“He doesn’t like getting wet?”
“Nope. Well, not unless he’s jumping in a river. Crazy dog.”
They dripped their way indoors, leaving their boots and jackets by the door. Billie went straight for the kitchen, starting a pot of much-needed coffee, then she turned to Jon.
“D’you want to shower? Warm up a bit?”
“Great idea.” He moved to her, wrapping his arms around her.
“Shower’s that way.” Billie pointed toward the bathroom.
“I know.” Jon grinned, changing his grip and lifting her in his arms. “But you’re wet, too. May as well shower together.” He smirked, biting on her shoulder. “And I can get you a better kind of wet.”
Billie gave a purring chuckle, winding her arms around Jon’s neck and kissing him, allowing him to carry her to the bathroom.
Chapter Thirty Two
Billie looked down at the bacon-filled pan and smiled wryly. Her guesstimate that Jon had time to shower had been pretty far off the mark - he’d only just headed for the bathroom but the bacon was ready. She walked toward the bathroom, hearing the sound of the shower, the noise almost drowning out the soft singing, and she returned to the kitchen with a sigh. Turning off the stove, she jammed a lid onto the pan, trusting that the latent heat would be sufficient to keep the bacon warm.
Freshening her coffee, Billie went to the living room, shooing Deke from the fold-out bed so she could put it away. He grunted his disapproval as he jumped to the floor, then gave himself a quick shake and headed for the doggy door and outside. Sitting on the couch with her coffee, Billie’s gaze fell on the acoustic guitar, and she got off the couch, picking up the instrument and sitting again.
Frowning in concentration, she forced her fingers onto the strings, playing the chords she could remember, so when Jon emerged from the bathroom he heard her soft playing. Grinning, realising he’d probably inducted someone else into the addiction of music, Jon walked silently toward the living room. Billie didn’t notice him, her attention focused on the guitar, so Jon took the opportunity to just watch her, the long legs bared as her robe slipped further open. As she strummed a near-perfect ‘C’, Jon applauded softly, startling Billie so she almost dropped the guitar.
“You scared me!” She yelped, moving to lay the guitar aside.
“Sorry, darlin’.” He grinned lazily. “That was pretty good, though, considering you’ve only started playing. You may be a natural.”
“Pfft!” She snorted derisively. “Hardly like I’m playing a song, is it? Single chords only!”
“Yeah, but you’re playing them right.” Jon explained. “You can hear when it’s right or wrong, and a lot of people can’t ever learn that. You just know.”
“Maybe I just had a good teacher.” Billie did lay the guitar down now, standing from the couch as Jon grinned again.
“That’d be it, for sure.” He gave her a suspicious look. “Did you feed my bacon to Dekey?”
“Nope. Still in the pan.” She headed for the kitchen. “You want anything else?”
“Yep.” He grabbed her sleeve, pulling her into his arms, dipping her dramatically backward so she squealed then leaning in to kiss her before raising her upright again. “Okay - now you can feed me.”
“Typical man.” Billie muttered. “Food and sex……all you think about!”
“Not true!” Jon argued, following her to the kitchen. “I think about sex and food, in that order! Oh, yeah, and music.”
Billie rolled her eyes, lifting the lid from the pan of bacon and picking off a piece, nibbling it to check if it was still hot. It was, and as she turned to Jon he took it from her hand, taking a bite as Billie scowled.
“You’re pretty free with helping yourself to my food, aren’t ya?” She muttered, and he nodded with a goofy grin.
“Yup. What you gonna do about it?”
“I’ll think of something.” She promised, smirking. “Maybe I’ll go dig out a whip.”
Jon just grinned broader. “I thought you were talking about punishing me, not…….” He waggled his eyebrows meaningfully, and Billie started to laugh.
“You’re nuts, you know that?”
“I know.” He agreed.
Billie made sandwiches of the bacon, and they sat at the kitchen table to eat them, Deke returning to watch them mournfully as they steadfastly refused to feed him. He finally laid his head gently on Jon’s knee, his eyes following every move of the sandwich, until Jon laughed helplessly.
“Can he have some?”
She sighed. “Not from the table. Deke!”
The dog started, looking reproachfully at Jon for turning him in, then he got to his feet and lumbered to Billie’s side, looking at her.
“You.” She said sternly. “Are a beggar, aren’t you?”
He wagged his tail slowly, and Billie got to her feet, picking up his bowl from the floor and emptying some bacon from her sandwich into it. She laid it down, stroking his back as he dived head-first into the bowl, returning to her seat at the table and picking up what remained of her breakfast.
“You’re just a soft touch, aren’t you?” Jon grinned, and Billie shrugged.
“I guess.”
“D’you feel like taking a ride today?” Jon asked, and Billie nodded.
“Sure. The horses are just standing around anyway.”
“Didn’t mean on horses.” He grinned. “I was thinkin’ of taking you on the bike.” The smirk on his lips was a bit of a giveaway of the kind of ‘taking’ he had in mind, and Billie smiled.
“That’d be fun. I haven’t been on a bike in years.” She looked down at her robe, quirking an eyebrow at him. “I guess I should get dressed then, huh?”
“Hey, don’t bother on my account. Less you’re wearing, less I have to take off you.”
“I really should look for that whip.” Billie muttered, getting to her feet, holding out a hand for Jon’s empty plate.
He stood, too, taking her plate instead.
“Why don’t you go shower and whatever and I’ll clean up here.”
Billie snorted, raising a hand to lay it on his forehead. “Jesus! Are you feeling okay? A guy offering to wash dishes?”
“Damn.” He said, pretending worry. “You mean cowboys don’t do dishes?”
“In this house they do.” She assured him, then leaned to kiss him lightly. “Thanks.”
While Billie showered and dressed, Jon cleaned up the kitchen, wondering what the hell was wrong with him these days, that he was not only doing these little domestic things, but offering to do them in the first place. Maybe it was just the atmosphere around here - around Billie - that was taking him back to how he’d been raised, stripping away the rockstar bullshit and letting him find the John behind the Jon, so to speak. Whatever it was, it felt strange, but it felt damned good, and he poured himself a mug of fresh coffee as a reward when he’d finished.
Billie came back, dressed in jeans and a tight pink t-shirt that beautifully outlined the curves of her breasts. Her hair was in a pair of braids, and Jon grinned as he looked at her.
“You look about twelve.” He gestured to the hair, and Billie pouted, looking down at her chest until Jon laughed. “Okay, if you didn’t have boobs, you’d look about twelve with your hair like that!”
She just snorted, crossing to the coffee pot, finding it empty. “You drank all the coffee?!”
“Nope.” He sipped from his mug again, then peered into it. “Still got some, thanks.”
She pouted, muttering sullen threats as she opened the fridge and took out a carton of milk, drinking a mouthful straight from it as Jon looked on in surprise.
“I’ve never seen a woman do that.” He grinned. “Thought it was only guys.”
Billie rolled her eyes - seemed she had to do that a lot around this guy - and took another mouthful, this time a trickle escaping the corner of her mouth. She swallowed and flicked her tongue out, catching the drips, and Jon nibbled on his lower lip but fought the temptation. If he let himself strip her and make love to her again, it’d be the middle of the afternoon before they got going. Instead, he drank down the last of the coffee and rinsed his mug quickly, catching Billie’s smirk.
“If you say a word about men and housework, I’ll put you over my knee.” He warned, then laughed. “I should rephrase that, right?”
“That all depends if you want me to say anything about housework.” Billie purred. “Or if you just want an excuse to spank me.”
“Don’t need an excuse. But we’ll get to that later.” He winked. “I promise I won’t forget.”
“If you do, I’ll remind you.” Billie gave her own promise.
On that note, they finished getting ready, pulling on boots and sunglasses, Billie tying a bandana over her hair, giggling as Jon tied one around his head in his usual fashion. With jackets in their hands, they went out to the garage, Billie waiting while Jon wheeled the bike out and quickly checked gas and oil before starting the motor, the dull roar of the bike making them both grin.
Jon pulled on his leather jacket and straddled the bike, holding out a hand to steady Billie as she climbed on behind him. She didn’t need telling, scooting herself up close behind Jon and laying her hands on his waist, just for the contact with him. He set the bike rolling slowly from the ranch, Billie leaning to speak in his ear.
“Where are we going?”
“Haven’t a clue.” He shrugged. “What’s around?”
“Do you want something pretty or somewhere you can go fast?”
“I’ve got something pretty.” He dropped a hand back onto her thigh, squeezing through her jeans. “And she goes fast, too. Ow!”
Billie had bitten his ear, a tiny nip on the edge that stung, and Jon slapped his hand on her thigh.
“That hurt! Okay, okay. This is a motorcycle, not a - a crotch rocket - so let’s go for pretty.”
“Take a left.” Billie instructed as they hit the road at the end of her property.
Freshening her coffee, Billie went to the living room, shooing Deke from the fold-out bed so she could put it away. He grunted his disapproval as he jumped to the floor, then gave himself a quick shake and headed for the doggy door and outside. Sitting on the couch with her coffee, Billie’s gaze fell on the acoustic guitar, and she got off the couch, picking up the instrument and sitting again.
Frowning in concentration, she forced her fingers onto the strings, playing the chords she could remember, so when Jon emerged from the bathroom he heard her soft playing. Grinning, realising he’d probably inducted someone else into the addiction of music, Jon walked silently toward the living room. Billie didn’t notice him, her attention focused on the guitar, so Jon took the opportunity to just watch her, the long legs bared as her robe slipped further open. As she strummed a near-perfect ‘C’, Jon applauded softly, startling Billie so she almost dropped the guitar.
“You scared me!” She yelped, moving to lay the guitar aside.
“Sorry, darlin’.” He grinned lazily. “That was pretty good, though, considering you’ve only started playing. You may be a natural.”
“Pfft!” She snorted derisively. “Hardly like I’m playing a song, is it? Single chords only!”
“Yeah, but you’re playing them right.” Jon explained. “You can hear when it’s right or wrong, and a lot of people can’t ever learn that. You just know.”
“Maybe I just had a good teacher.” Billie did lay the guitar down now, standing from the couch as Jon grinned again.
“That’d be it, for sure.” He gave her a suspicious look. “Did you feed my bacon to Dekey?”
“Nope. Still in the pan.” She headed for the kitchen. “You want anything else?”
“Yep.” He grabbed her sleeve, pulling her into his arms, dipping her dramatically backward so she squealed then leaning in to kiss her before raising her upright again. “Okay - now you can feed me.”
“Typical man.” Billie muttered. “Food and sex……all you think about!”
“Not true!” Jon argued, following her to the kitchen. “I think about sex and food, in that order! Oh, yeah, and music.”
Billie rolled her eyes, lifting the lid from the pan of bacon and picking off a piece, nibbling it to check if it was still hot. It was, and as she turned to Jon he took it from her hand, taking a bite as Billie scowled.
“You’re pretty free with helping yourself to my food, aren’t ya?” She muttered, and he nodded with a goofy grin.
“Yup. What you gonna do about it?”
“I’ll think of something.” She promised, smirking. “Maybe I’ll go dig out a whip.”
Jon just grinned broader. “I thought you were talking about punishing me, not…….” He waggled his eyebrows meaningfully, and Billie started to laugh.
“You’re nuts, you know that?”
“I know.” He agreed.
Billie made sandwiches of the bacon, and they sat at the kitchen table to eat them, Deke returning to watch them mournfully as they steadfastly refused to feed him. He finally laid his head gently on Jon’s knee, his eyes following every move of the sandwich, until Jon laughed helplessly.
“Can he have some?”
She sighed. “Not from the table. Deke!”
The dog started, looking reproachfully at Jon for turning him in, then he got to his feet and lumbered to Billie’s side, looking at her.
“You.” She said sternly. “Are a beggar, aren’t you?”
He wagged his tail slowly, and Billie got to her feet, picking up his bowl from the floor and emptying some bacon from her sandwich into it. She laid it down, stroking his back as he dived head-first into the bowl, returning to her seat at the table and picking up what remained of her breakfast.
“You’re just a soft touch, aren’t you?” Jon grinned, and Billie shrugged.
“I guess.”
“D’you feel like taking a ride today?” Jon asked, and Billie nodded.
“Sure. The horses are just standing around anyway.”
“Didn’t mean on horses.” He grinned. “I was thinkin’ of taking you on the bike.” The smirk on his lips was a bit of a giveaway of the kind of ‘taking’ he had in mind, and Billie smiled.
“That’d be fun. I haven’t been on a bike in years.” She looked down at her robe, quirking an eyebrow at him. “I guess I should get dressed then, huh?”
“Hey, don’t bother on my account. Less you’re wearing, less I have to take off you.”
“I really should look for that whip.” Billie muttered, getting to her feet, holding out a hand for Jon’s empty plate.
He stood, too, taking her plate instead.
“Why don’t you go shower and whatever and I’ll clean up here.”
Billie snorted, raising a hand to lay it on his forehead. “Jesus! Are you feeling okay? A guy offering to wash dishes?”
“Damn.” He said, pretending worry. “You mean cowboys don’t do dishes?”
“In this house they do.” She assured him, then leaned to kiss him lightly. “Thanks.”
While Billie showered and dressed, Jon cleaned up the kitchen, wondering what the hell was wrong with him these days, that he was not only doing these little domestic things, but offering to do them in the first place. Maybe it was just the atmosphere around here - around Billie - that was taking him back to how he’d been raised, stripping away the rockstar bullshit and letting him find the John behind the Jon, so to speak. Whatever it was, it felt strange, but it felt damned good, and he poured himself a mug of fresh coffee as a reward when he’d finished.
Billie came back, dressed in jeans and a tight pink t-shirt that beautifully outlined the curves of her breasts. Her hair was in a pair of braids, and Jon grinned as he looked at her.
“You look about twelve.” He gestured to the hair, and Billie pouted, looking down at her chest until Jon laughed. “Okay, if you didn’t have boobs, you’d look about twelve with your hair like that!”
She just snorted, crossing to the coffee pot, finding it empty. “You drank all the coffee?!”
“Nope.” He sipped from his mug again, then peered into it. “Still got some, thanks.”
She pouted, muttering sullen threats as she opened the fridge and took out a carton of milk, drinking a mouthful straight from it as Jon looked on in surprise.
“I’ve never seen a woman do that.” He grinned. “Thought it was only guys.”
Billie rolled her eyes - seemed she had to do that a lot around this guy - and took another mouthful, this time a trickle escaping the corner of her mouth. She swallowed and flicked her tongue out, catching the drips, and Jon nibbled on his lower lip but fought the temptation. If he let himself strip her and make love to her again, it’d be the middle of the afternoon before they got going. Instead, he drank down the last of the coffee and rinsed his mug quickly, catching Billie’s smirk.
“If you say a word about men and housework, I’ll put you over my knee.” He warned, then laughed. “I should rephrase that, right?”
“That all depends if you want me to say anything about housework.” Billie purred. “Or if you just want an excuse to spank me.”
“Don’t need an excuse. But we’ll get to that later.” He winked. “I promise I won’t forget.”
“If you do, I’ll remind you.” Billie gave her own promise.
On that note, they finished getting ready, pulling on boots and sunglasses, Billie tying a bandana over her hair, giggling as Jon tied one around his head in his usual fashion. With jackets in their hands, they went out to the garage, Billie waiting while Jon wheeled the bike out and quickly checked gas and oil before starting the motor, the dull roar of the bike making them both grin.
Jon pulled on his leather jacket and straddled the bike, holding out a hand to steady Billie as she climbed on behind him. She didn’t need telling, scooting herself up close behind Jon and laying her hands on his waist, just for the contact with him. He set the bike rolling slowly from the ranch, Billie leaning to speak in his ear.
“Where are we going?”
“Haven’t a clue.” He shrugged. “What’s around?”
“Do you want something pretty or somewhere you can go fast?”
“I’ve got something pretty.” He dropped a hand back onto her thigh, squeezing through her jeans. “And she goes fast, too. Ow!”
Billie had bitten his ear, a tiny nip on the edge that stung, and Jon slapped his hand on her thigh.
“That hurt! Okay, okay. This is a motorcycle, not a - a crotch rocket - so let’s go for pretty.”
“Take a left.” Billie instructed as they hit the road at the end of her property.
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