Chapter 77

They sang.

They danced.

They ate cake.

The show was over, the tour was over and the last after party was in full swing. After schmoozing everyone he absolutely had to, Jon grabbed Cilla and snuck out. They hadn’t had much time together in the last few weeks and Jon was leaving again in a couple of days. He was taking his kids on a much needed, well deserved vacation. Then they were going to New Orleans for the Arena Bowl. Cilla was going with him on that trip. Right now though, the car was rolling to a stop in front of an indiscriminate gray building on Mercer Street.

Sliding out of the car he took Cilla’s hand and tugged her along. “Come on Sweets, there’s a bed up there just screaming our name.”

In the elevator Jon leaned against the wall, head back and eyes closed. He should be exhausted. Instead he felt like he could go put on another 3 hour set. Turning his head, he looked down at Cilla. Her black tank top and jeans accented every delicious curve. He smirked. He knew exactly what he was going to do with all this extra energy.

When they entered his apartment and the door clicked shut behind her, Cilla found herself wrapped up in a pair of strong arms. “I hope you’re not too tired” he whispered as his tongue trailed down her neck.

She shook her head, “no, no I’m not… oh God.” The tip of his tongue was making tiny circles along her collarbone.

Jon chuckled quietly. “Good.” He nipped across her shoulder. “I wanna do things to you Sweets.”

“Things?” She saw the determined glint in his eyes. Sweet Jesus he was going to kill her.

He nuzzled her neck, kissed across her jaw. His lips hovered over hers, “bad things.”

Before she could say anything his mouth dipped to hers. The kiss was sweet, tender with heat curling around the edges. He could take her right here, right now and she wouldn’t care. Everything inside her screamed “no” when he pulled his mouth from hers. “What… why…?” She didn’t want him to stop.

He took her hand, leading her up the stairs, “I need a shower first baby.” He hadn’t taken the time for more than a cursory rub down after the show. He didn’t want to keep anyone waiting. Now though, with her, he was more than happy to take the time. “Come on, wash my back for me.”

He turned the water on and watched her watching him in the mirror. He pulled his shirt over his head and crossed the room to her. He fingered the hem of her tank top. “Can’t shower with your clothes on” he said quietly as he tugged her top off. Her muscles tightened as his fingers ghosted down across her stomach. Dropping to kneel, he dragged her jeans down her legs, trailing his fingers over the soft smooth skin of her thighs as he stood again in front of her.

She reached out, stroking his chest, her fingers combing through the fine hairs along his stomach and lower, stroking the bulge that threatened to break his zipper. She popped the button of his jeans slowly, her fingertips brushing the velvety softness of his erection as the zipper lowered and the denim separated, bit by bit.

He fought to stay still as she touched him. He didn’t want to rush but she was making it hard not to. If he didn't stop her now, he'd end up taking her on the bathroom floor and that’s not what he wanted. With a deep breath he pulled her hand away. “We’re never going have that shower at this rate” he croaked as together they pushed his jeans down and off.

Steam filled the room as he finished undressing her; taking care with the silk and lace she wore before leading her into the shower. Standing her under the spray, he reached for the shampoo. Pouring a generous amount in his hand he started working the lather through her hair.

Her head dropped back as he massaged her scalp and worked the sweet scented soap through her long, thick tresses. “That smells like mine” she murmured. God his hands were amazing.

He worked the lather down to the ends of her hair, “it is yours.”

She opened her eyes. “You have my shampoo in your shower?” He was a constant source of surprise.

He nodded and reached for the gel, “I have your soap too.”

She watched as he worked the healthy dollop of gel into a rich lather, wondering if she was going to survive this shower.

He dropped to his knees and picked up her foot. Lightly his lips brushed over her instep, her ankle, before his hands slid over her foot and up her calf. Pressing his lips to the side of her knee he continued up her leg, his fingers stroking along her inner thigh, brushing along the crease where hip and thigh came together.

He gave her other leg the same treatment and stood, smiling at the low groan that fell from her slackened lips.

With more soap on his hands he watched her for just a moment. Her head had dropped back against the slate tile, her lips were parted and she was panting lightly. Her hands were flexing against the wall alongside her and her body had a pretty pink flush creeping over it.

He leaned in close, tracing the shell of her ear. "Turn around baby."

Pushing her hair back she turned, finding his lips before she braced herself against the wall. The heat he had coursing through her warred with warmth of the water raining down on her. She wasn't beyond begging at this point. "Please Jonny."

"Not yet" he hushed as he moved around her.

His hands slid down her back, his fingers massaging and easing away the stress of the day. He worked his way back up, over her shoulders, down her arms, sliding soapy fingers between hers.

She gasped when his fingers teased the sides of her breasts before sliding around and cupping them. When he pinched and kneaded lightly, she whimpered. “You know your turn is coming, right?”

He chuckled quietly. “We’ll see about that.” He was so hard now there was no way he would last if she touched him like this.

His hands slid down her body, the soap all but gone from his fingers. He cupped her butt, caressing, kneading her cheeks. Pressing her legs apart, he slipped his fingers in between, keeping his touch teasingly light. She rolled her forehead against the tile. “Jonny” she nearly sobbed.

With an arm braced on the wall by her head, Jon leaned over her, pressing his mouth to her nape. While he sipped from her skin his fingers slid gently inside her. She pressed her hips back, moving them in time with his hand, looking for the sweet relief only he could give her.

Pulling his hand away he pressed his hips forward and waited, the engorged head of him hovering, barely touching her swollen wet lips. He leaned over her, his chest touching her back, his mouth at her ear. “Is this what you want baby?” he whispered.

She pressed her hips back, “God yes Jon, yes!”

With the steam clouding around them and the water raining over them Jon thrust his hips forward, burying himself in her in one barely controlled movement. Cilla’s scream of release echoed around them as he held on to her hips. When he could move his pace was furious. His hips pumped into her, pushing her up again. The race to finish was a tie. Jon’s head dropped back and the groan that rumbled out of him mingled with her cry of his name.

Releasing his grip on her hips he braced himself on the wall with one hand and gathered her close with the other. Pressing his face to her neck he could hear her trying to catch her breath. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I think” she turned her head “I think I saw God that time.”

Jon laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. “Water’s getting cold.”

She sighed when he pulled away and watched as he hurriedly shampooed and washed. She trailed a finger over the faded “S” on his shoulder as she moved past him to the door. “One of these times I’m actually going to wash your back.”

Leaving their towels on the floor, they collapsed onto his wide bed, sleep overtaking them before another word could be uttered.