Chapter 18

Climbing the stairs to Cilla's apartment, Jon walked behind her, stopping on the last step as she stood on the landing. While she rummaged in her bag for her keys, he traced the seam of her back pocket, his fingers slipping down to brush over the curve of her ass and lower, down the back of her thigh.

The key Cilla had managed to wrap her fingers around dropped to the mat with a jangle as Jon's fingers slid down her thigh. "Jon, stop." He slid his fingers back to her pocket, "I can't help it; you have a great ass." She bent to retrieve her keys and his fingers found the bare skin at her lower back where her shirt had ridden up. "Jon…" she warned as she stood, "I need to get the door open."

He closed in behind her, his voice was low and his breath warm at her ear, "I'm not stopping you. Go ahead, open the door." With a less than steady hand, Cilla managed to somehow fit the key in the lock and open the door.

Together they stumbled into her apartment, Jon kicking the door closed behind them, his hands never leaving her waist. Cilla tried to extricate herself but Jon held on; "where do you think you're going?" She dropped her bag and twisted around so she was facing him, "um, to bed?" His fingers toyed with the zipper on her sweatshirt, "need someone to tuck you in?" Looking up at him she cocked her head to the side, "will you sing me a lullaby?"

He dropped a kiss on her pretty pink lips, "is that all you want, just a song?" She trailed her fingers up the button placket on his shirt, her thumb finding the soft hair where the buttons were open, "maybe I'll let you convince me I want something else." Jon smiled and lifted her so she was flush against him and he walked them toward her room, "I can be very convincing."

Together they bumped through the door and Jon set her down. When she flipped on the light he took a minute to look around and found himself looking at a much younger version of himself and his band mates. "Was that there last night?" She followed his gaze to the poster, "yes. You didn't see it?" He shook his head, "I was otherwise occupied." He looked at the poster and then back at her, "did you buy it signed and then frame it like that?"

Cilla stripped off her sweatshirt and went over to stand next to Jon. "No. We were in London back in 1988 when you were doing your signing at Tower Records. Charles and I waited in line forever but it was more than worth it." He turned; a question in his eyes, "Charles?" She nodded, "things were good between us then." She sighed and her fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt, "does it bother you that it's up there?"

He slid his hands up her arms, "it's a little odd to see myself hanging over your bed, but it's fine." She started slipping the buttons through their holes, "Good. Now, are you going to tuck me in and sing me a lullaby?"

A smile crept across Jon's lips, "I believe there was something else you wanted, wasn't there?" Cilla stroked her hands over the hard plane of his chest, "you haven't convinced me yet."

He stilled her hands, bringing them to his mouth, kissing her fingertips before settling her arms at her sides. As he slid her cami up he started to sing softly.

I saw you coming from a mile away
Trying to hide behind that pretty face
Bet my last dollar baby you been bruised
Poor little heart all black 'n' blue

Cilla gasped as his voice quietly filled the room and her breasts filled his hands. His thumbs brushed across her quickly hardening nipples.

Last thing you need's another pickup line
You must have heard them all a thousand times
God only knows what you been through
Believe me I been broken too

It aches, it breaks, it takes your breath away
I've been around that block a time or two

His hands left her breasts and he shrugged out of his shirt before pulling her against him, swaying lightly as he continued to sing quietly.

Baby, I don't want to fall in love with you
I try, try, try but I can't get around the truth
Please don't say my name, give this heart a break
I don't want to make the same mistake but it's too late
I'll leave on the light
These arms are open all night

Cilla wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself closer, whimpering when her breasts rubbed against the soft hair of his chest. His fingertips skimmed lightly up and down her back, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. He pressed her back slightly, lowering his mouth to hers.

Their kisses were soft and gentle, urgent yet unhurried. Jon's hands slid down Cilla's back to cup her butt as they moved toward the bed. Dragging his lips from hers his mouth slid across her jaw and down her neck. As she trembled she could hear his voice again.

I got your taste in the back of my mouth
I want to reach in and pull it out
And I'd be lying if I didn't say
When you're this close I'm afraid
Of the way I'll feel if I touch your hair
The way I'll miss you when you're not there
And that I'll see you when I close my eyes
It's too late, I've crossed that line

His mouth traced a path down to the curve of her breast. His tongue traced lazy circles until he could wrap his tongue around her nipple and gently he drew it into his mouth.

Cilla's head dropped back and her hands came up to fist in his hair as she held him to her as he slowly convinced her of what she had already known she wanted. No one had ever made her feel like this before. She wanted more. She wanted him.

Jon slowly slid to his knees in front of her, tugging at the button on her jeans. He slid her jeans off, his pulse quickening more at the sight of the black satin and lace against her creamy skin. With his hands on her hips he traced the lace edge with his tongue; trailing down the crease of her thigh, nuzzling his nose against the satin, her sweet musky scent urging him on.

Rising from his knees, Jon dragged his fingertips up her thighs, across her stomach and around to caress her lower back. Cilla's hands slid up his arms, her fingers twining in his hair as she leaned up to press her mouth to his. The heat of her mouth on his had his hands splaying across her back and pulling her flush against him. The kiss turned fiery and almost desperate. Cilla whimpered when he pulled his mouth from hers. "What do you want Cil?"

Her hands moved from his hair to his belt, "you Jon. I want you." His belt clanged to the floor and his jeans followed as Cilla climbed on the bed. He crawled toward her, pulling her close, his fingers tugging at the black satin and lace she still wore. Tossing them over his shoulder he rolled her under him, filling her in one slow thrust. He groaned at the wet heat that enveloped him as she arched under him.

Jon moved slowly, pushing them higher. He dipped his head sucking on Cilla's bottom lip, kissing her jaw, nuzzling her neck. When his tongue dipped into the hollow at her shoulder she was lost. As they rode the wave of her release her muscles clenched, drawing a cry from Jon as he spilled into her.