Chapter 43

Stepping into the kitchen, Jon let the door close quietly behind him. Cilla was standing at her work table, her black pants spotted with white, her camisole untucked, apron lying across the table next to her. She had her arms braced on the table, one hand working the mouse, muttering at something on her new pink laptop.

He walked up behind her and pressed a light kiss to the nape of her neck, snaking his arm around her, splaying his hand across the flat of her stomach, his other hand at her hip, holding her close to him. His mouth moved up to her ear, “hey Sweets” he whispered lightly as his tongue stroked the shell of her ear.

She tried to turn but he held her fast, his mouth moving back to her neck, his kisses making her tremble. The hand on her stomach crept up, his thumb stroking the under curve of her breast as the hand at her hip kept her close, his hips pressing harder against her.

His scent, a little spicy, a little woodsy and a whole lot of the man himself wrapped around her like his arms; keeping her a willing prisoner. She covered his hand at her hip, dropping her head forward. He took advantage, letting just the tip of his tongue stroke across the nape of her neck, his breath teasing the fine hairs there. “Jonny” she whispered. The endearment falling softly from her lips had him pulling her tighter against him.

Leaving this time was killing him. He had put off this goodbye as long as he could. He had seen his kids earlier and said goodbye to all of them. He had taken care of all the last minute shit that always needed his attention. Now it was time to say goodbye to Cilla.

He nuzzled against her neck, “I have to go Sweets.” She nodded her head slightly, “I know.” His hand moved from where it was stroking just under her breast back down across her stomach, sliding it down to cup her, rubbing her gently through the cotton twill of her pants.

She could feel the hard length of him pressing against her ass where she was held tightly against him. She shifted slightly and his intake of breath was sharp in her ear. His fingers slid up from where he was rubbing her and popped open the button of her pants, sliding the zipper down before slipping inside and stroking her again.

Cilla closed her eyes against the storm that was building inside her. With a few deft touches he had her ready and wanting, work be damned. She opened her eyes and looked over to the door; it was too far, would take too long to get upstairs. She could only hope Sid stayed out front.

Neither of them heard the door swing open. Sid started into the kitchen, his arms laden with trays when he saw the two of them. He stood staring open-mouthed for the briefest moment before turning and heading back the way he had come. Leaving the trays he exited out the front of the store, locking the door as he went, smiling as he pulled down the gate.

Reaching behind her, she stroked Jon through the light cotton of his pants. Blindly she fumbled for the button and zipper, catching his hot, hard length when she managed to free him. Jon pushed at her pants before pulling her hand away from him, tugging her to the end of the table. Laying her back he slid into her, slid home in one slow measured thrust.

Leaning over her he pumped his hips in and out as lips skimmed over her cheeks, her lips, her neck. When their mouths met again their kisses grew desperate, his hips moved faster, harder, pushing them both to the release they both desperately wanted.

With his head nestled in at her neck Jon could feel her pulse beating against him. He pressed his lips against her and slowly rose to look down at her. Cilla had her eyes open and she was looking up at him, the gray sparkling with unshed tears. “Don’t cry Sweets, I’ll be home before you know it.” She nodded “I know.” Jon stepped back from her and she sat up searching for her pants while he fixed his own.

With a hug and several kisses at the back door she sent him on his way, not letting a tear fall until she closed the door behind him. Sinking to the floor she let the tears flow quietly down her cheeks.