Chapter 50

Jon climbed into the Escalade and dropped his head back against the headrest. There was nothing he hated more than a day full of meetings. Richie had been antsy through the meeting, bored with the suit-talk as he liked to call it. His life was becoming nothing but a series of meetings. First it had been for football, for Habitat, for Ken and now for the record business.

There had always been a level of red tape and contracting to do for his records, but it had just been a formality. Island knew they would get a certain payback from a Bon Jovi record, but trying something new always took more talking and finagling than he liked.

And knowing he had a beautiful and engaging woman waiting for him back at the hotel did not help. He’d managed to cut the meetings from eight straight hours to a manageable six by nixing the business lunch. He knew a collar or two had been ruffled when he’d taken that out of the negotiations. Those suits sure liked to eat and drink on his dime.

“Henry, was Miss Donovan taken care of?”

“Yes, sir. She went shopping and returned to the hotel a few hours ago.”

Henry’s voice never wavered, nor was there an ounce of inflection about his opinion of Tessa, but Jon raised a brow. He supposed it was a different thing for Henry to deal with anyone other than his ex-wife. He wasn’t the entourage type but did keep a select few staff with him when he went out of town.

Kevin had stayed home this trip. Nashville didn’t need brute strength for him to get around in. He wasn’t likely to get mobbed here with fans, but Henry was indispensable. He could find his way around anywhere from New Jersey to Alaska.

Jon glanced at his watch. It was just after three. “Henry, you’ve got the afternoon free unless Richie needs you. We’ll need to head out to the airport around eight.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jon just shook is head and hopped out of the truck. Even after eleven years Henry wouldn’t stop calling him sir. He stopped at the main desk, glanced down at the discreet tag on the concierge’s lapel. “Steven, could you have the kitchen send up dinner at six?”

“Certainly, sir. Anything special?”

“Just a couple of steaks, veggies and baked potato with the fixings.”

“Wine first?”

Jon nodded. “Two bottles of my usual.” He smiled his thanks and moved to the elevator. Richie had begged off, wanting to get the suit stink off of him by going to one of the clubs. He’d sit with the unending supply of masters that dotted Nashville and bull shit until he dragged him onto the plane.

Shouldering his way into the room he met the room service cart in the hall and let the young girl in. She quickly set up the wine and a gilded bowl of strawberries to go with the golden Pinot. Tucking a twenty into her hand he shut the door behind her.

Music filtered from his room and the scent of Tessa and something darker and richer filled the suite. He snagged two glasses, cupping them both in one hand and the bottle in the other.

Only because of his true love of wine did he manage not to drop the bottle as he entered his room. Tessa slid off the bed all porcelain skin and lace. The purple…a gentler color than purple maybe…hugged her lean form and pushed her breasts high until just the barest hint of nipple peaked from the half cups.

Stockings and a garter completed the look ending in a four inch boost of heels. “Good, God,” he said and let the bottle thunk onto the dresser.

“Did you have a good day, darlin’?”

Jon swallowed with a bit of difficulty, finally able to meet her eyes. The light purple was continued there with smoky shadows around her eyes and her fiery hair sweeping across her forehead falling to her shoulders in a tangle of silk that begged for his touch.

She came closer and his brain shut off. He didn’t know what to touch first so he settled for the hair that made him nuts. His fingers tunneled into the fire and felt the copper sift around his knuckles and palm until he tipped her face up to him.

He took her mouth, greed clawed at him but he kept the kiss light and when the need threatened to strangle him, he let his touch curve over her naked shoulder and down to her waist. He felt her fingers at his buttons and groaned when she opened the shirt, following the same line from the morning.

She didn’t stop at his belt this time. She neatly divested him, pushing the shirt to the floor and his pants followed. She cupped him through the boxer briefs he wore in deference to the line of his suit pants. Making quick work of the rest of his clothes she teased her tongue over the straining length of him on her way back up and then backed him toward the bed. “I…” he began but she simply touched a finger to his lips.

“Talk later,” she said and caught his lips in a wicked kiss.

He thanked whatever underwear gods had created lace and let himself be pushed onto the bed. Her green eyes were molten fire when she started at the arch of his foot then scraped her nails lightly over the hair of his calves to his thighs. Muscles clenched when her nose bumped along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh and she took one side of his sack into her mouth sucking deeply before curling her tongue around the base of him.

He could feel the silk hose of her stockings on the outside of first his calves then thighs as she worked her way up his body. There had been no order not to touch so he did. Letting his fingers coast over the copper strands then settle along the curve of her waist and the slight flair of her hips before settling on the naked flesh of her ass.

While her lips worked on his chest, he found the slick wet heart of her through the scrap of lace she called panties. She hissed out a breath, but never stopped her assault on his nipple, nipping a little harder than he liked when he slid one long finger into her.

He pushed the underwear over her hips and managed to get it over her knee before the thin strap gave. The feel of the elastic snapping against his knuckle and all bets were off. He drove two fingers into her and reared up scraping his teeth over her neck then her jaw until he could ravage her mouth.

When he heard his name on her lips he reached for the packet on the bedside table and took the precious few seconds to protect her before he buried himself deep. She fisted around him and he groaned once before they clashed.

Her arms came around his shoulders as she rode him hard. Each time she took him deeper until he was half mad with lust. He didn’t even take the time to take off the lace, simply found her nipple through the material and sucked hard as he pumped inside of her. She arched back and he did the same with the other dusky tip drilling out of the lavender lace.

She trembled and still continued to take him deeper, each stroke longer than the last until the speed and control vanished into mindless mating. Her release came on a strangled cry both sob and scream. He followed her there with a shout of his own before they collapsed into each other.

She pressed her cheek into his chest, unable to move. “So you liked my purchase?” she asked on a gasping breath.

The laughter rumbled out of his chest as his arms gathered her close. “Hell yeah, got it in any other colors?”

With a half laugh she slid off of him in a boneless heap, her thigh resting between his. She glanced down and laughed. “I still have my shoes on. This seems to be a kinky theme of yours.”

“Hey, you attacked me this time. I didn’t have enough smarts to ask you to keep the shoes on. You just fell into my evil plan.”

She nipped his bristly chin. “More like my evil plan, pal. You left all your plans at the door with the wine.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, “That’s true enough.”

She pushed at his shoulder. “That was a hint by the way,” she said with a nip to his earlobe.

He rolled out from under her and took care of the condom. “Is that right?” he said and looked over his shoulder.

She slid her hand under her cheek on the pillow and nodded. “I’m parched.”

He grabbed the bottle and poured them each a half glass swirling the pale gold around the glass once before he sipped and handed her the other.

She rolled onto her stomach and took a sip. “Mmm….that’s wonderful.” She swung her feet up, crossing them at the ankle.

Jon swallowed the rest of the wine and crawled back on the bed. He straddled her back and pressed a line of kisses along her shoulder blades. “Now as gorgeous as this little outfit is, how the hell do I get you out of it?”

The wineglass dangled from her fingers as her hand hung off the side of the bed. “You know how much work it was to get in this thing? You figure it out darlin’.”

He bit her shoulder. “You’re a hard woman.”

She pillowed her head on one folded arm. “I’ll give you one more hint. There are hooks involved.”