Chapter 93

Blowing her bangs out of her face once more, she finished arranging the petit fours on the tray. The party was slated to start in a few hours and she wanted to make sure everything was perfect.

Jon hadn’t wanted her to do all this work but he couldn’t insult her by going to someone else either. So here she was, just hours before the party was to start, putting the final touches on her creations. She didn’t mind. She loved her work and was grateful that her treatments weren’t interfering. So far. She had changed one of her treatment days from Sunday to Saturday, giving herself an extra day to recover so she could face Monday mornings feeling marginally like herself and on Thursdays she had Josie come in early so she could get a little extra sleep after her Wednesday afternoon torture. The only one who was suffering at this point was Jon.

Jon.

She stood and stretched. He was being so patient with her. She hadn’t felt remotely interested in any kind of sexual activity since they had come back from the Hamptons. All the chemicals flowing around her body combined with the surgery that had made her menopausal had her hormones raging and not in a good way. But today she felt more like her old self.

Satisfied with how the tray looked she slid it into the refrigerator with the others. The petit fours, cookies, neopolitans, tartlets and other assorted bite-sized desserts took up the whole bottom half of the refrigerator.

Unwinding her hair she wandered from the kitchen and down the hall, pausing at the front room. She had recognized this room right off. It was the living room, the only room he had ever allowed to be photographed. She knew from experience that the couch was as comfortable as it was blue. She and Jon had curled up together and watched a movie the night before on that big couch. And Jon had only laughed at her once; when she goggled at the television as it rose up out of the floor. The man certainly enjoyed his toys.

She rolled her shoulders as she stood in the doorway and nearly jumped out of her skin when two arms wrapped around her from behind.

“There you are.” Jon nuzzled his nose into her hair, pressing a kiss behind her ear. It had been six weeks and she still had it. That had to be a good sign.

She angled her head in a silent invitation of more. His breath at her ear buzzed through her; quickening her pulse and warming her blood in anticipation. “I was just on my way upstairs.”

He nibbled on her neck. “I thought you got lost.”

With a low purr, she turned fully into him. “Nope, just wandering, enjoying the quiet before the storm.” Party preparations she knew were well underway but for right now this area of the house was quiet. Her eyes raked over him. “You’re not dressed yet.” He was still in his jeans and t-shirt.

His lips found hers. “We have a little time yet.”

Framed there in the doorway he kissed her gently, looking, hoping for some sign she wanted to be with him again. It had been weeks since there had been anything more than kissing between them. He knew it was because of the chemo and the other medications she was taking to help control the ugly side effects. He didn’t blame her, but damn it, he missed her. When he felt her pull back he tried to hide his disappointment and his hard on. He bit back a sigh. He’d just have to wait a little longer.

“Do you want to get your shower before me?” Or maybe he should run her a bath. That way she would have time to rest a little before the party. He had been so wrapped up in his own activities for the day that he had given little thought to how she must be feeling.

She shook her head, “no.” There was something else she wanted to do before taking that shower. She hadn’t felt like this in too long. She started toward the stairs. “I do want to go upstairs though.”

He followed her up the curved stairs. “Do you want to lie down?” She had been in the kitchen most of the day; she had to be tired. “We have a little while yet.”

She closed the door behind them and crossed to the bed. “I do, but I don’t want to sleep.”

Jon’s eyebrows rose to his forehead as she turned to face him. “What are you saying?” Every other time he had tried before today she had told him no. But now, he wasn’t sure what was going on. Did she want what he thought she wanted or was she just saying that because she knew it was what he wanted? Was she reading his mind again? It was a little unnerving how she knew what he was thinking so often, but in this case, he hoped she was doing just that.

She tugged him to sit down next to her before turning and straddling his lap. She attached her mouth to his and sent them sprawling back on the bed. Her thoughts in the kitchen and the easy intimacy downstairs combined with the sweet gentle kisses had gotten her system humming.

Jon rolled them, crowding her against the pillows as he levered up over her. “Are you sure about this?” He didn’t want to stop, but he would if she wasn’t truly into it.

She grabbed two fists full of shirt and pulled him back down on top of her. “Less talking” she said as she kissed him, “more loving.” She kissed him again and pulled the shirt over his head.

He grinned down at her, he wasn’t about to say no. “Yes ma’am” he growled and nuzzled into her neck, stroking his tongue down the slim column of her throat.

Sitting up he pushed at her shirt, sending it to join his on the floor. His fingers stroked over her lightly. It had been a while since he had seen her, all of her, and he wanted to just look for a minute.

Fingertips skimmed up her sides, dancing along the cotton that covered her breasts. She had lost weight; there was a permanent bruise and prick point on the inside of her arm. She had refused the port they had offered to put in for her chemo, opting instead to endure the stick of a needle every time she went. Lowering his head he pressed his lips to the spot, caressing it lightly with his tongue.

Sliding higher he pressed open-mouth kisses along her arm and across her shoulder, drawing out her pleasure one soft sigh at a time. He wandered lower, tasting a path down her neck and across her chest; pleased and slightly relieved to see her skin go from creamy to rosy the more he touched and tasted. Her gasp and shudder when his mouth closed over a pebbled nipple dispelled the rest of his doubts.

God it was like the first time with him all over again. His mouth, his hands, they were everywhere, awakening senses she had thought dormant. He had always made her feel so much and now he was making her feel so much more. With just his mouth on her breast she felt the wave building. Just when she thought it would crash over her, he eased back, moved on. She reached for him, whimpering when he evaded her hands and shook his head.

“Shhh” he murmured as his lips slid across her skin. She wanted him to hurry. Not knowing when she might feel like this again, he wanted to take his time. Drawing her pants down and off he stroked her stomach, across the line of her scar. No longer red and angry, it had started to fade to a pale pink. When her arm would have hid it from him he pulled it away, resting it at her side.

“It’s ugly” she said, her voice a whisper in the fading daylight.

He raised his gaze to hers. “No. Nothing about you is ugly baby.” He lowered his mouth, kissing across the faded line lightly. He loved every bit of her.

When her hands sought out the button of his jeans, he didn’t evade this time. He let her touch him before moving and wiggling out of the offending denim. Moving back over her, he laced their fingers together and, pressing his hips forward, he filled her slowly.

For a long moment he didn’t move. He dropped his mouth to hers, kissing her gently. When his tongue slid between her lips he pumped his hips slowly, swallowing her soft cries. With long, slow strokes he took her, pushing her toward peak, letting her fall then driving her up again before finally following after her.