Chapter 64

Morning shifted into afternoon as they lazed together on the porch. Cilla had taken over the chaise and Jon had stretched out as best he could in the wicker chair, his feet propped on the ottoman. The wicker creaked and groaned as he shifted again, not able to sit still. He had been up and down several times, to get a drink, to grab the paper, to talk to Jo. It wasn’t normal for him to spend so much time sitting and doing nothing. Refolding the newspaper he had been reading he set on the floor beside him and glanced over at Cilla.

She had been so quiet since their morning interlude. He had hoped she would talk more about what had happened yesterday but so far, she hadn’t said a word about it. And now, she had her nose buried in the latest New York Times best seller. “Good book?”

Without taking her eyes from the page she was reading, she held up one finger, “yeah, just a sec.” When she finished she marked her page and turned her attention to Jon. “You’ve been up and down more than a yo-yo this afternoon. What’s the problem?”

“Nothing. You want to take a walk, maybe check out the beach?” He was antsy to do something, anything other than just sitting in this damn chair. Cilla studied him for a minute. She could see the restlessness in him, his fingers were tapping against his thigh, his eyes darted around and he kept crossing and uncrossing his ankles. She rose and went to stand in front of him, holding out her hands, "come on let’s go get changed and you can show me the beach.”

The beach was alive with activity; the sand was covered with striped umbrellas shielding bodies that were used to three-piece suits instead of bathing suits. Colorful towels held teenaged girls in oversized sunglasses and tiny bikinis, cell phones in hands, fingers flying over the miniscule keyboards as they tried to find a way to escape the parents for an evening. The scent of coconut oil hung in the air and the squeals and laughter of children running into and out of the waves as parents called out “be careful” rang around them.

Jon and Cilla walked near the water; the hard-packed sand was warm and wet under their feet. He was slightly ahead of her, his ring and pinky fingers curled around two of hers between them, their flip flops dangling from their free hands and he had a blanket tucked under his arm. The breeze lifted the ends of Cilla’s hair and swirled her wrap around her thighs as they moved along the water’s edge.

“You’ve been quiet today” Jon said as the water rolled up over their feet.

Cilla glanced around, wondering still how she could fit in here with him. She wanted to believe what she had seen and felt from Jon, but all she could hear was Charles in her head, criticizing how she looked in her bathing suit and cover up, telling her she didn’t belong here, how she didn’t belong with Jon. She tried to find something to say, something that would get him talking and save her from having to.

“Sorry. When are the kids coming?” The kids, she thought; he could talk about them for a little bit at least.

Jon sighed and tugged her to dry sand, spreading out the blanket. “The kids are coming tomorrow after breakfast. We have that dinner tomorrow night, Sunday to do as we please and then we head home on Monday.”

Settling themselves on the blanket, they fell silent again, watching the tide pushing the water up on the shore, pulling it back out again. Jon took Cilla’s hand, “I wish you would tell me what’s going on with you. You haven’t said much about yesterday. How can I help if won’t talk to me?”

Cilla studied their hands, how could he possibly understand? She looked around, she was sure all the bathing suits came from Barney’s or Nordstrom’s or wherever. Hers? It came from Filene’s Basement. There were just some things you don’t buy second hand.

Her flip flops were last summer’s Old Navy and her sunglasses, hell, she couldn’t even remember. Some second hand or thrift shop she supposed. She dressed how she dressed and shopped where she shopped because that’s all she figured she was entitled too and it never seemed to matter. But now, here with Jon, it all seemed so much more important.

Bringing her gaze back to Jon she pushed her sunglasses up on her head, “do you know where your sunglasses came from?”

“What?” He was totally bewildered.

“Do you know where you bought your sunglasses?”

He named some shop on Madison Avenue. “What has that got to do with anything?” He was still confused.

“How about your bathing suit? Your flip flops?” She picked at the blanket, “this blanket?”

He didn’t answer this time, but asked a question of his own, slightly afraid of what the answer might be. “Where are you going with all this?”

“How am I supposed to compete with all this?” She motioned to the activity all around them. “How am I supposed to fit in here? I’m not like you or them. I’m not sure I belong here.”

Jon cupped her chin with his hand and turned her face to his, her gray eyes were murky with turmoil. “You are just as good as anyone on this beach Sweets. You belong here as much as I do. It doesn’t matter to me where you buy your clothes or how big or small your apartment is. All that matters to me is you. If you can believe nothing else, believe that.”

She tugged her chin from his grasp. The words sounded so pretty falling from his lips. She wished she could believe them, wanted to believe them. But it was far easier to believe the negative that she had heard for so long.

A long sigh fell from her lips. “I used to care Jon. I used to shop at the fancy boutiques; I used to have nice things, live in a great apartment. But when all you hear, no matter what you do or how hard you try is ‘you’re not good enough’, ‘you’re not smart enough’, ‘you shouldn’t wear that?’; you start believing it. I lived with that for a long time and when I left I stopped trying. I let myself go. I got rid of all the clothes and started shopping thrift stores. I wasn’t worth anything better. Eventually, I got used to it all and even now I enjoy it.”

She gave a sad, half laugh, “did you know that before I bought my computer, my bed was the newest item of furniture in my apartment?”

He shook his head, “no, I didn’t know that.” He couldn’t imagine living like that. How the hell had she stayed with this Charles for so long and how many kinds of an asshole must he have been to treat her like that?

Tears gathered in her eyes, but she shook her head, determined not to cry because of Charles again. “Sid is always on me about how I should do better for myself. Its not that I don’t have the means, because I do, but I’ve never felt like I deserve to.”

Sensing she needed it, Jon wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Resting her head against him she sucked in a shaky breath and angled her head so she could see his face. “This morning, on the porch with you, I felt like maybe I was worth it, but it’s just so hard for me to believe it. It’s been a lot of years since I felt like that.”

Jon pressed his lips to her forehead, “you are worth it Sweets. The first time we were together I told you I thought you were special. And if I have to tell you that everyday until you believe it, I will.”

~

Tired and emotionally drained after their talk, Cilla lay down feeling better than she had in a long time. Maybe she could finally leave all that crap behind her and move forward in a healthy relationship with Jon. Maybe Sid would finally leave her alone about it now too.

Not even the nagging ache in her lower back could keep her from smiling as she stepped into the shower. Jon had left her to nap after they came back from the beach and when she woke she found a note from him.

Sweets,

Meet me on our porch for dinner at 8.

Wear something pretty, for me, please?

J

Drying her hair as quick as possible she slicked on her lotion and dropped the deep red sundress over her head. The thin straps criss-crossed her back and it stopped just above her knees. She left her feet bare, dusted some powder over her face, added a touch of lip gloss and studied herself in the mirror.

Her eyes seemed brighter now; her shoulders a bit straighter, as if a burden had finally been lifted. She adjusted the front of the dress over her breasts and smoothed it over her hips, hopeful that she would never again feel less than worthy.

Smiling again she fastened the bit of pink sparkle at her throat and went in search of Jon.

Stepping out onto the porch she could only stand in awe. Candle light flickered from every available surface; the table was set for two in the waning sunlight; a pillow and throw were tossed on the chaise and a bottle of something sat cooling in a bucket.

Eyes brimming she turned at the slight cough behind her. Jon stood waiting for her, barefoot, dressed in summer weight khakis and a deep blue gauzy button down that was open nearly to his belt.

Cilla didn’t move. “I can’t believe you did this.”

He moved closer to her, opening his arms as he went, “I told you I thought you were special. You deserve this and so much more.”

Stepping into the circle of his embrace gray met blue and for the first time, she actually believed it.

Chapter 63

He was alone. He knew he was alone before he even reached across the bed for her. Jon sighed, running a hand over his face. How did she always manage to get away from him in the morning? Climbing out of bed he stumbled to the bathroom before pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and heading out in search of her.

He found her out on the back porch lounging on the wicker chaise, sipping coffee, her laptop on the floor next to her. His heartbeat kicked up and his blood warmed at the picture she made sitting there in the morning sunshine. Her hair was a tousled mess down her back and the sun gave it a rich deep red hue. He could just make out the dusky tips of her breasts under her white sleep tank and the tiny navy blue shorts she wore rode high on the creamy thigh of a leg that was bent up at the knee. God she was beautiful.

As she sat forward to rub at her lower back he focused on the slice of skin that peeked out from the bottom of her tank top. While he imagined tasting her there he wondered briefly if she would tan in the summer sun or if she would pink up like a strawberry.

On near silent bare feet he crossed the wide white-washed plank floor to where she was sitting. “So this is where you disappeared to.”

Cilla looked up, a smile on her face. As always she had woken before him and, figuring he could use the sleep after dealing with her melt down the day before, she had left him to sleep while she enjoyed a rare morning off. The white whicker chaise with its thick pale yellow and white flowered cushion seemed like just the right place to start. “I don’t often get to sit outside and enjoy the sunshine on a beautiful morning.” She rubbed at the lingering ache in her back again.

Jon sat down at her hip, facing her, so he could see her face. Looking into her eyes he was pleased to see the gray was clear and there were no remnants of the storm that had raged there last night. “You make a pretty picture sitting out here on my porch Sweets.” He slid his fingers up her arm to toy with the ends of her hair, “did you sleep okay?” The way her day had gone yesterday, he thought she would have slept half the day away.

“How could I not, that bed of yours is fabulous.”

He sipped his coffee, his eyes twinkled with amusement, “then why did you get out of it?”

She set her empty cup down on the table behind her, “I was restless and didn’t want to wake you so I came out here.”

Jon drained his cup and set it next to hers with one hand as his free hand trailed up her leg, “you came out here; all by yourself?”

His emphasis on the word “came” had Cilla’s head snapping up. The amusement in his eyes had turned to arousal as he twisted her words. “That’s not what I…” she trailed off as his fingers slid higher and curved around to the inside of her thigh. “Jonny?”

Ignoring her question he let his fingers glide higher, stroking over her silky soft skin and up under the edge of her shorts. “You should have woken me; I would have liked to have watched.”

His voice was as whisper soft as his fingers on her skin and Cilla felt the heat in her cheeks as the flush crept up her face. “That’s not what I meant…” the ‘t’ trailed off as Jon’s fingers moved higher, finding that she was pantiless under her shorts. Her breath hitched and she braced her hands on his forearms as he lightly stroked her.

Tilting her head up Jon caught her mouth with his, swallowing her groan along with one of his own as he slid two fingers inside her.

She was so wet, so ready for him. He knew she hadn't done anything but the fact that his words alone had her this aroused turned him on even more. His fingers and tongue pumped in tandem. He wanted to watch her come for him out here in the morning sun with the warm summer breeze blowing over them.

Cilla let her hands slide up his arms, under the sleeve of his shirt to grip his shoulders. Jesus he was going to make her come out here in front of God and everyone. Pulling her mouth from his she dropped her head against his chest. Glancing down she could see his erection tenting the front of his shorts. She wasn't going to do it alone. As his thumb grazed her clit she reached down inside his shorts and grasped him. His growl was low in her ear as she stroked him.

Stroke for stroke, kiss for kiss, she matched him, pushed him just as he was pushing her. Pulling her hand from him, Jon pushed Cilla back on the chaise. His fingers never left her as he sucked a nipple, white cotton and all, into his mouth. Cilla arched up into him as she crashed over that first peak. "Jonny, now" she begged, "I need you now." He pushed his shorts down just far enough to release his straining cock, slid her shorts aside and drove into her in one quick thrust.
Opening her eyes, Jon was haloed in the sunlight and Cilla found herself lost in brilliant blue. He loved her, she could see that, but more, she found her worth there. She mattered to him. And as the orgasm overtook her, she thought that maybe, just maybe she just might be enough for him.

~

Curled together on the chaise, Cilla thumped Jon's shoulder. "I can't believe you made me have sex with you out here. What if Jo had come outside and seen us?"

Jon chuckled and buried his face in her hair, "you could have said no. And Jo would have gotten an eyeful but she is on the other side of the house getting things ready for the kids. I knew she wouldn't come out here."

She stroked his arm, "I'm not sure I have it in me to say no to you."

"I like the sound of that."

Cilla thumped his shoulder again, "I just bet you do."

He laughed and stood, holding out his hand for her, "let's get some breakfast." He nudged her laptop with his foot, "and no working for you today. You're relaxing today."

She took his hand, "you want me to relax, what about you? Do you even know the meaning of that word?"

"Nope, but maybe you can teach me."

Chapter 62

The ride out to East Hampton was slow and quiet, and gave Jon too much time to think. The more he thought about the scene in her kitchen and her breakdown on her stairs, the angrier he got with her ex-husband and the more he worried about Cilla. He looked over at her and stroked her cheek lightly with his fingers. She was still wearing the clothes he had bought her; that she had worked all day in. She hadn’t wanted anything to eat when they stopped for dinner either.

Glancing over at her again, he wasn’t surprised to see her sleeping. The day had certainly taken its toll on her. The circles under her eyes and the puffiness around them had his anger rising further. She didn’t deserve the misery she had suffered through at the hands of her ex-husband. No one did.

She opened her eyes to look at him and found his face stony with anger, his jaw clenched. When he pounded his fist against the steering wheel she laid her hand over his. “I’m okay Jonny, really.”

He wasn’t sure he believed her, but he didn’t say anything, he just gave her hand a squeeze and turned his focus back to the road.

It was late when he turned the car into the drive that curved around to the front door of his house. Cilla stretched as she got out of the car and couldn’t quite contain the ‘wow’ that escaped her lips.

Jon chuckled as he sidled up next to her, “it’s just a house babe.”

She rolled her eyes, “and I suppose next you’re going to tell me that the Titanic was just a boat, right?”

“Come on now” he chuckled “the Titanic was definitely not just a boat.” He grabbed their things and headed toward the door, he wanted to get her inside, help her relax. Help her try to forget today and show her that she mattered, that she was worth so much more than what her asshole ex-husband had made her believe.

The door swung open and a small plump woman Cilla thought to be about her own age stood in the yawning bit of light. “Mr. B,” she smiled broadly, her eyes getting lost in the squint, “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to make it tonight.”

“Traffic was a bitch” he said as he ushered Cilla in ahead of him. Setting their things down by the stairs he turned to Cilla. “This is Jo. She takes care of things around here and keeps me in line.”

Cilla smiled and held out her hand, “it’s nice to meet you Jo.”

Jo studied her for a moment. Behind the tired sad eyes, Jo could see that this Cilla must be someone special; she was the first woman Jon had brought here since he had been divorced. She took Cilla’s hand and smiled warmly, “if you need anything, you just let me know.” She turned to her boss, “Mr. B, I have some snacks set out in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks, but I think we’re just going to head upstairs for right now.”

Jo turned to head down the hall, “I’ll wrap it and put it in the fridge in case you change your minds. Good night.”

“She seems very nice” Cilla said as they climbed the stairs.

“Yeah, she’s great and the kids just love her.” Jon set their things down and flipped on the light.

The room was decidedly beach-like. The blue and green hues of the ocean adorned the windows and bed and stood out against the cream of the walls and light honey tone of the wood trim. The floor was the same light honey tone wood with an area rug spreading out from under the massive king size bed.

The curtains moved slightly in the breeze as Cilla wandered the room. There were pictures of his kids on the highboy dresser and there were fresh flowers on the small table near the French doors. “It’s a beautiful room.”

Jon took her hand, kissed her fingertips, “thanks. But it’s just where I sleep.”

Cilla shook her head and turned from him to look out the window. She slept in a four room apartment that would fit at least twice in this room alone. How could she possibly be enough for him? How could she be worthy enough to share this exquisite space with him?

“Don’t” he said as he closed in behind her.

“Don’t what?”

He knew what she was thinking. “Whatever Charles told you, whatever he made you believe, he was wrong. You’re more than worth it babe, so just stop thinking you’re not, please?” He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. She was worth everything. “Just stop.” He rubbed her shoulders lightly, his thumbs skimming across her soft creamy skin before running his fingers up to the knot of her hair. Unwinding it he let it fall down her back in dark heavy waves.

Cilla closed her eyes when she felt his hands in her hair. Was there anything better than having your man play with your hair? She let out a little moan when his fingers massaged her head lightly.

“Feel good?” he whispered.

“You have no idea.”

She moaned again as his thumbs caressed down her neck and across her shoulders. She could feel her tension easing, slowly seeping out of her with each pass of his fingers. When those fingers slid down her arms, Cilla took his hands and turned to face him. She needed to see him, needed to see what was in his eyes. She needed to believe what he said. She needed to be able to believe. Reaching up she pressed her lips to his. "I need you Jonny" she whispered, "please."

Looking down, Jon could see her eyes; the gray was stormy and unsettled. He wanted to calm the storm, settle her fears. Wordlessly, he scooped her up and settled her gently on the wide ocean of his bed. With quiet kisses and soft hands he showed her just how much she mattered to him. With gentle fingers he stripped away her clothes, with an eager and gentle mouth he showed her how much he wanted her. Showed her just how much he loved her.

When she trembled beneath him, he slid over her, into her, making her forget all that had happened, making her see only him, hear only him, feel only him. As he pushed her toward the release that was threatening to take her, she let go of the demons that had haunted her and clung to the one that had seen past it all and loved her anyway.

When the storm had passed, when they were sated and sleepy and wrapped up with each other in the dark, Cilla pressed a kiss to the base of Jon’s throat. “Thank you.”

He tucked her in closer, resting a cheek against her head. “For what?”

“For tonight, for understanding, for everything.” She looked up into his handsome face, “for loving me.”

Chapter 61

“Cilla, can you come out here for a minute, please?”

Dropping the modeling chocolate she was working with, Cilla sighed as Sid called for her to come out front. Pushing through the door she noticed he was crouched next to a little blonde haired boy and a slim whip of a blonde woman was standing nearby. “What’s wrong Sid?”

He stood, “do we have anymore chocolate chip cookies or the ones with the M & M’s in them?”

She nodded, “I’ll bring another tray out.” Turning to head back she noticed the dark haired man standing just inside the door. He looked familiar but she couldn’t quite place him. Disappearing through the door she returned and got a full look at the man and as she handed the tray of cookies to Sid, the realization of who the man was hit her. “Charles?”

He looked across the cases at his ex-wife, “Cilla? Is that you?”

She couldn’t speak, his tone was so pleasant and so decidedly not the Charles she remembered. “What are you doing here?”

He indicated to the woman the small boy, “we were out for a stroll and my son wanted a cookie so we stopped in. How have you been?”

His wife and son. She gripped the counter, she couldn't breathe and felt her heart nearly stop. “You have a son?”

Charles indicated to the boy that Sid was handing a cookie to, “that’s Jack. He’s four now.” He moved closer to the cases, not wanting his wife to hear what he was about to say. “I’m sorry Cil, for everything I put you through. I got help after we divorced. But I want you to know that I am truly sorry for everything Cilla.”

Cilla didn’t know what to say, what to do. She looked over to the boy that Sid was with, to the woman that was standing next to them and then back to Charles. All the bitterness, all the pain, all the anger she had harbored, that she had carried because of him spewed out of her on a hiss when she opened her mouth.

“What do you want me to say Charles? Congratulations? Good for you?” She lowered her voice further, “you made my life miserable and now you come waltzing in here with an apology and you think that will make everything okay?” When he didn’t say anything she continued, “well, it doesn’t. Not in this lifetime, not in the next. Nothing you could say to me would ever make things okay."

She paused and an image of Jon came to mind. "I have someone in my life who loves me now Charles and he's ten times the man you could ever hope to be. So you know what, you can take your apology and your pretty little family and get out. Get out of my shop. I don’t ever want to see you in here again.”

She looked over at Sid, “the cookie is on the house.” She swung through the door into the kitchen and dropped heavily onto a stool, burying her face in her hands.

When Sid swung through the door he wasn’t sure what to expect. A few tears, a tantrum, some yelling and ranting maybe? What he didn’t expect was to see her sitting calmly at her work table working with the modeling chocolate. He stepped closer to her, “are you okay Cil?”

Her hands weren’t quite steady as she tried to finish the figure she was working on so she set it down. “No Sid, not really. Did you know who was out there when you called me out front?”

He shook his head, “no Cil, I didn’t. I didn’t recognize him right away, but he came in after I was talking to the boy.”

She looked down at what she had been working on and smashed it with her fist, “that boy was his son Sid. His SON!” Her voice rose and broke and she couldn’t keep the tears at bay any longer. “After what did to me, what he made me do, he has the nerve to come in here with his wife and his son and apologize to me. What was he thinking? How could he do that?”

She looked up at Sid, the only one who truly knew what she had been through with Charles and wept bitterly, “how could he do that Sid, how could he?”

He wrapped her up in his arms and held on as she wept. “I don’t know Cil. I just don’t know.” He stroked her back and let her cry it out. She had always wanted children and when Charles took that away from her she had been devastated. Sid grew angrier the longer he stood there holding his friend while she cried because of that man. Again.

Jon stepped through the backdoor surprised to find Sid holding a weeping Cilla in his arms. “Hey, what happened, what’s wrong?”

Hearing Jon’s voice Cilla pushed away from Sid and wiped her face with her apron. She didn’t want him to see her like this. “Nothing, it’s okay. I’m fine.” She glanced at her schedule and started to put things away. “Sid, let’s clean up and I think we’re going to be closed tomorrow for the long weekend.”

Sid’s eyebrow rose in question, she had been planning on being open at least for half the day anyway. “You sure about that Cil?”

She nodded, “yeah. I’m sure.” She crossed the room to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thanks."

“Okay.” He squeezed her shoulder and headed out to start pulling trays and cleaning the cases.

Jon crossed to Cilla, “you want to tell me what that was all about?”

She shook her head and continued to clean up. She couldn’t talk to him about it just yet. She didn’t want to break down in front of him. “Not yet. Please Jonny” she whispered, “not yet.”

He sighed and with his fingers tilted her chin up so he could see her face. The pain he saw in her eyes hurt him almost as much as the fact that she wouldn’t talk to him. “I’ll wait while you finish up here and then we’ll go up and get you packed. We’re going to go out to the Hamptons tonight. Okay?”

She nodded her head, “okay. Will your kids be there this weekend?” She sniffed and wiped at her face again with her apron.

“For part of it, why?”

She got out a pink box, “we’ll need some cookies.”

Jon watched and waited while she packed the box full of cookies for his kids and his heart eased a little. She had finally stopped sniffing and the hitch in her breathing had eased. He took the box from her as she locked up and together they headed up the stairs.

Halfway up to her door Cilla stopped and sat down, suddenly exhausted. “I just need a minute” she told Jon when he sat down next to her. Jon set the box between his feet and wrapped an arm around her. When she leaned in and rested her head against his shoulder he kissed the top of her head, “you ready to talk to me yet?”

“It was Charles.” She felt his arm tense. “He came into the shop today. With his wife and his son.”

Shit.

He wrapped his other arm around her and they sat there, on her steps, hip to hip, her head on his shoulder while she went through everything that had happened that afternoon. “It hit me after they left Jon. It wasn’t that he didn’t want children. He just didn’t want them with me.” Her breath caught and she struggled against her tears, “why wasn’t I good enough for him?”

Jon held her and his heart hurt for her as she cried. “He’s an ass. He didn’t deserve you when he had you and he certainly doesn’t deserve your tears now. He’s not worth it baby.” He waited until her tears slowed, “look at me Sweets.”

She raised red, watery eyes to his fathomless blue. “What?”

“You deserve so much more baby. I’m not sure I’m even good enough for you.”

Cilla chuckled as he had hoped. “Shut up. You’re way too good for me, but I guess we’re stuck with each other.”

She stood and wiped her face with her hands, “sorry about the way I just fell apart there. I didn’t mean to cry all over you.”

He picked up the box as he stood and took her hand, “its okay. Are you all right now?”

She took a deep breath as she dug for her keys, “I will be. Now, what do I need for the weekend and how long do I have to pack?”

Chapter 60

Their laughter rang out across the terrace. Dinner had been a feast of the guys' favorite take out and Cilla had been regaled with stories of their antics on the road the last few weeks; pranks that had fallen flat; jokes that had gone awry, anything to stave off the boredom of the monotonous schedule they followed day after day. Cilla was amazed that they were sharing themselves like this with her, but as she looked around the table, they seemed to be totally at ease with her there.

“So Cilla” Dave began, trying to get the conversation back on track before they forgot themselves entirely and said something one of them would regret. “I saw the pink box Jon carried in when you got here, what special treats did you bring us tonight?”

Richie grabbed her hand and turned pleading brown eyes on her, “cannoli, please tell me you brought me a cannoli.”

Cilla looked over at Jon, “subtlety is not their strong suit, is it?”

There was just a hint of a smile on his lips as he shook his head, “not in the slightest.”

She laughed and stood, gathered the garbage and headed in to the kitchen. After dumping the garbage, she leaned against the counter, rolling her shoulders and neck, closing her eyes for just a brief moment. She didn't want to disappoint Jon, but God she just wanted her bed, his bed, at this point, even the floor was starting to look pretty good. She was just pushing herself upright when Jon walked in.

“You okay Sweets?” Jon knew she was tired, she was valiantly trying to hide it, but he had seen the signs earlier. He just wanted to hear her say it.

She rolled her shoulders one last time before turning to face him. “I’m fine. What did you do with my things? I need my bag.” She got the pink box from the refrigerator and grabbed the coffee pot as Jon came back with her bag. She started for the door when he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“If you’re too tired we don’t have to do this tonight.”

She shook her head, “it’s all right Jon; I’m fine, really. Let’s take this stuff out and show your friends what’s what.”

He stepped in front of her before she could take a step, “will you do one thing for me at least?”

She looked up into his face, his blue eyes full of concern. “What?”

He set her bag down and took the coffee and box from her, setting them on the table before he took her hands in his, “will you stay here tonight, please?”

She started to shake her head, “I don’t have anything with me for tomorrow Jon. I can’t.”

Letting go of her hands he took a step toward the door to the terrace, “don’t move” he told her as he disappeared. She heard muffled voices as she waited, rooted to her spot trying to imagine what he had up his sleeve now.

The sound of male laughter followed Jon back to the kitchen. He stood and watched her for just a moment. Her eyes were closed and she had unwound her hair. She shook it out, sending her sweet floral scent across the room to him. The scent he had missed for three long weeks, the scent he hadn’t gotten nearly enough of before she had left him asleep in her bed that morning.

Cilla opened her eyes in time to see him stride across the tiled floor to her. He cupped her face with his hands before sliding his fingers into her hair. Tilting her head up his lips found hers in a hungry kiss. “Come with me,” he mumbled against her mouth.

Cilla gripped his wrists with her hands as she struggled to catch her breath. “Where?” Right now, she’d go to the ends of the earth with him if he asked. He kissed her again before stepping back slightly. Taking her hand in his he led her up the stairs and down the hall to his room. There on his bed she noticed a La Perla bag and a Barney’s bag. She glanced over at Jon, “you buy your underwear at La Perla?”

Jon shook his head laughed “You’re real funny, Sweets. That’s for you. So is Barney’s.”

She moved tentatively toward the bed. He had shopped for her. Other than the odd item from Sid, she’d never had anyone shop for her before. Opening the Barney’s bag she found a pair of black pants, much like the ones she wore for work. There was also a cami in a deep rich burgundy.

Reaching for the La Perla bag she swallowed, she was so not La Perla worthy. Victoria’s Secret maybe, but she was definitely not high-class enough for La Perla. She looked at Jon, “I’m almost afraid to look. I’ve never even set foot in this store.”

He took the bag from her, “its just underwear babe, nothing to be afraid of.” He flipped the bag over, letting the tissue paper wrapped items fall to the bed. Under the pretty paper she found a bra and tiny panties in the same burgundy as the cami and a pretty little slip of a nightie in the palest pink silk.

Turning to Jon she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

He kissed her back, “will you stay?”

She kissed him again, “yes.” He picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he turned and sat on the bed.

“Good,” he said as mouth found hers again.

Their kisses grew fiery, urgent. Jon fell back on the bed, taking her with him. Pushing at her hair his hands roamed over her, sliding down her back, cupping her ass as he pressed up against her. Sitting up she rolled her hips against him, watching as his eyes went dark and hot. When she felt his hands tugging at her shirt she stopped him. “Jonny.”

His hands kept moving even as he answered her. “What?”

She lost all thought when he flicked open the front catch of her bra and her breasts spilled into his hands. Her head dropped back as he rubbed his thumbs back and forth across the sensitive tips. “Oh God, Jonny” she whispered. It had been a long 21 days since they had been together, since she had felt his hands on her, since she had put her hands on him.

He rolled her under him, the bags and tissue paper crackling as they rolled over them. Again he pushed at her shirt, tugging it up and off as his mouth fastened itself to one taut nipple. Her hands fisted in his hair and her back arched up as her release raced through her. “Jonny” she breathed as he moved to give the other breast the same treatment. “Jonny, wait.” She tried to push him up.

“What?” He looked up at her, his eyes hazy and dark.

“What about Richie and David?”

His face went totally blank. “You want David and Richie here, now?”

She slid her hands up his sides, “no you goof, we left them out on the terrace, remember?” He dipped his head to lick at her breast, “I know. I told them we needed a few minutes.”

He felt her hands fall away from him and he looked up to see the mortification in her eyes. “Stop, Cil. It’s okay. I told them that you were tired and needed to hit the sheets. They think you’re going to sleep.” He glanced over at the clock, “although considering how long I’ve been gone, they probably know what we’re doing now.”

She poked him in the ribs, “I can’t believe you did that.”

He dipped his head to taste her again, “I need you Sweets and you need some sleep. This seemed like the best solution all around.”

When he sucked her nipple into his mouth again, she couldn’t find any reason to argue with him either.