Chapter 76

Sitting in his apartment, Jay smiled silently at Desi sleeping next to him, her hair disarrayed on the pillow from the thrashing of her head as he’d brought her to orgasm. Repeatedly, which accounted for her current comatose condition.

‘I may be inexperienced’ he thought ‘but apparently I have skills……natural ones. I wonder if I get that from my……….oooohkaaay stop that thought! I do not need to be thinking about my mom and….him…..’

Shoving the thoughts out of his head, Jay picked up his wallet, scratching through the receipts stuffed in the back until he found one from Cuba Libre. He dialled the number printed on the receipt, reaching to stroke Desi’s hair as the phone began to ring.

He was in luck, as Hannah answered the phone. Not only was Hannah the co-ordinator of events at the club, but he’d also met her on a few occasions, so when he explained what he was looking for she was immediately helpful. More than aware of the amount of business the team gave the club - and also knowing what such a high profile party would do for their bottom line - she didn’t even bother to check with her boss before telling Jay that she would close the club for the party.

“You don’t have to…….” Jay’s voice trailed off as he realised maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, and Hannah echoed his own thoughts.

“I was just thinking, after what your mom has been through - I saw it in the papers.” She added quickly. “That keeping this a closed party would be a good idea. Plus with all the team here……”

“And my………uhh………boss and his guys want to come.”

“Then I definitely think we keep this a private party.” She repeated, knowing that having the band there would create even more of a buzz………not to mention ensure that practically every Bon Jovi fan who visited the city would want to come party once they found out ‘the guys’ had been there.

“Yeah, you’re right. But remember it’s a surprise party…….” His voice trailed off as he thought, but he knew Richie would be more than able - and definitely willing - to somehow get his mom there under false pretences. “Okay, let’s do it. I’ll handle getting my mom there.”

By his side, Desi stirred, moaning - actually more like purring - as she woke with a smile and drowsy, sexy eyes. She raised a hand to cover Jay’s as he still stroked her hair, looking up at him as he finished his call. Watching her as he talked, Jay felt a sudden certainty, a knowledge that there was something he had to do right now, and he said goodbye to Hannah and snapped his phone shut, sliding down the bed to lie level with Desi.

“Hi.” She whispered, moving her hand to trace a finger across his lips as he smiled at her.

“Hi.” Jay replied, catching her hand and holding it between them as he continued, looking into her eyes. “Desi?”

“Mm-hm?”

“Desi, will you marry me?”

At that unexpected question, her eyes flew wide.


In another Philadelphia apartment - penthouse - someone else was pondering an unexpected question. Fortunately, though, that someone was a man given to swift decisions, and he smiled down into eyes as brown as his own.

“Abso-fuckin-lutely.” Richie purred with a soft grin on his lips, then he leaned forward just a little, touching his still-smiling lips against Billie’s.

It was a soft kiss, tender and almost chaste, his lips just barely caressing hers before he drew back to look at her, needing to check she was ready for this.

Billie drew her lower lip into her mouth, tasting him, tasting cookies and coffee, but most of all tasting Richie. Shifting her position, she freed her arms from his, bringing both hands up to cup his tanned face, her thumbs brushing over the crinkled lines at the corners of his smiling eyes.

“Kiss me Richie.” She repeated, and this time it was a demand for more. More which he was happy to give.

This time as he kissed her his lips parted, then so did hers, a shared breath before Richie’s hand cupped her head again, tilting her so they could more perfectly fit their mouths together. A touch of tongue on tongue, yet still the kiss was gentle, an introduction, neither yet ready for a passionate, consuming contact.

That first kiss was savored slowly and deliberately, more meaningful than any wild passion, pleasure taken from every touch and nuance, every slow stroke of tongue on tongue, every taste and sensation they found in each other. Then, in a shared moment of perfect timing, they both drew back a little, looking just a little surprised.

“Umm…...” Billie whispered.

“Yeah.” Richie responded, his big hand stroking her hair.

Only now did they both become aware of the sound of an alarm going off in the apartment, realizing that it must have been sounding for quite some time as they both smelled smoke.

“Damn…..” Pulling herself reluctantly out of Richie’s arms, Billie gave a wry grin at the confused look on his face. “Tico will not be happy!”

“Huh?” He still didn’t get it, even as she stood and headed for the kitchen.

“Cookies!” Billie called over her shoulder, grabbing a towel and flapping it ineffectively under the screaming smoke alarm.

Richie was laughing as he arrived in the kitchen, seeing the smoke wisping from the oven door. He took the towel from Billie, inches enough taller than her that he just flipped open the cover on the alarm, yanking the battery from the terminals, silencing the annoying sound.

“You tryin’ to burn down my apartment?” He chuckled as Billie opened the oven, pulling out a tray of seriously burnt cookies.

“Sorry!” She giggled, sincere but amused nonetheless. Poking at the cookies with a spatula, she rolled her eyes. “I don’t think even David will eat these.”

“Good thing you got more cookie dough.” Richie smiled as he stuck a finger in the bowl, lifting out a glob of dough that went straight into his mouth.

“Well, I do for now!” Billie rolled her eyes at his childlike action, then did the same thing herself. Yeah, so the faceless ‘they’ who said what was and wasn’t good for you said that raw cookie dough was bad, but damn it tasted good.

Though they didn’t regret it - not for a minute - neither of them mentioned their kiss, both trying to work it through in their minds, trying to figure out what exactly was going on here. Yet somehow, even right now, there was no awkwardness between them, and in the comfortable, companionable silence they so often found themselves in, Billie carried the tray of charcoaled cookies to the trash can, scraping off what she could before taking the tray to the sink, trying to soak off the remains.