Chapter 160

Tessa stretched. Hair roughened calves swiped over her smooth ones and his strong arm was still wrapped around her waist. A familiar bristly chin itched its way into her neckline until she laughed. “Awake?”

He lifted his head and looked out the window. His belly gurgled hungrily behind her before he put his chin back in its spot. “Nope.”

She twisted in his arms pushing him onto his back. “Hungry?”

His eyes drifted down to her breasts and then back up to her eyes. “Oh yeah.”

She giggled as his bearded chin brushed along her breast, his clever mouth finding the tip and sucking lightly. Pushing back his hair, she grinned down at his smirking lips. “Food, Jon.”

With slitted eyes, he flicked the tip of his tongue over her nipple one more time. “I could eat.”

She felt the blush burn hot up her neck and remembered just what his whiskers could do to the inside of her thighs. She scooted higher on his hips and laughed out loud when his stomach roared. “Yeah, you could.” She rolled off the bed, swiping her summer robe off the chair in the corner.

He rolled onto his side, propping his head on his hand. “Not at all what I was talking about, babe.”

Leaning down, she brushed her lips over his, lingering there when he cupped the back of her head, holding her still. The kiss went deep and hot, chasing the teasing flavor away. Dropping a knee back on the bed, she leaned into the taste of him. Bracing a hand on the mattress she let him drag her back up and over him.

Her legs straddled him as he sat up, never breaking the kiss. Fingers jerked at the tie at her waist and he parted the minty cotton lapels. Cupping her, he transferred his mouth to her neck, then shoulder, peeling back the robe until she was bared to him. He stared up at her. When his mouth surrounded her breast, the blue of his eyes blazed as his teeth tugged the tight pink tip.

Her hands fisted into the back of his head, her pelvis tilting forward until his shaft bumped against the softness of her center, the rough hairs at the base of his cock burned until she rocked again. Lifting her, his arms shook until she guided him inside, until he filled her.

Until her knees gripped his hips and they faced each other in the twilight of night. As the purples and the pinks receded from the room it was only him—only Jon that mattered in that moment.

Eyes locked and held, the shuddering sighs and groans between them finally slid into a furious coupling. His fingertips gripped her hips, his mouth at her neck as she rode above him—chest to chest and searing skin to skin.

The need for him, the want of him would always amaze her. Just as the edge came and the passion between them raged, he slowed. Drawing the release out until she could focus on him, on the love that overwhelmed and destroyed as much as it healed, he finally broke under her. She caught his mouth, she wanted to taste that tiny bit of helplessness—the time between his control and his release.

And when he finally stilled beneath her, she smiled into his mouth—laughed when his belly spoke again. “Still hungry?”

“Considering the starvation length…” he shifted inside of her.

She hissed and dragged eyelids up from her crossed eyes. “You are evil.” Could anything feel better than this man’s arms around her?

“Haven’t we gone over the saint versus sinner thing a time or two?”

She held onto his shoulders and squeezed down on him. When his jaw clicked and that beautiful tongue flashed against his teeth, she laughed until he flipped her back on the mattress.

She definitely stopped laughing after that.

Tessa snagged an old Bruce Springsteen shirt from Jon’s bag. The shower was going, but she needed just a few minutes to herself. He was overwhelming sometimes, even in the best of times. Pulling the worn cotton over her head, she couldn’t deny the need to have a little piece of him surrounding her.

Tugging on a pair of panties, she wandered into the kitchen and made them a couple sandwiches, curling into the corner of the sectional that took over the airy living room. It was time to return to reality. The temptation to ask him to stay here—to block out the world and all the little niggling issues between them was huge.

But she’d run for far too long now. A quick smile curved her lips involuntarily as he stood in the narrow hallway, a hand on the wall. Soft workout shorts clung to his lean hips and shaggy dark blonde hair fell into his eyes as he rubbed the water out. “Hey.”

She nodded to the coffee table. “Feed that grumbling belly, darlin’.”

He dropped onto the couch, swiping a triangle of turkey on rye. “You must’ve known I was coming,” he teased and took a big bite.

Folding her hands around her ankles, she smiled, tucking her toes under his thigh. “Part of me thinks I’ve always been waiting for you.”

He put the half eaten sandwich down, turning toward her. She laughed as he chewed, lettuce peeking out of the corner of his mouth. “We’re going to work, I promise.”

“I know.” She was surprised that she finally believed it, but there were no nerves in her belly now.

“Do you?” His fingertips played with the ends of her hair. His earnest eyes focused on hers and the smile started there. “You do.”

“I can’t say I’m not going to be a pain in the ass, Jon, but I’m here. Faults and freak outs included, you poor thing.”

“I don’t care about that stuff, just keeps it from being boring.”

She snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

“No, seriously. I can deal with anything as long as I know you’re not going anywhere.”

“No more running, well except when we’re exercising.”

“Yeah?” he picked up his sandwich again. “So you think you can keep up with me?”

“Every year and every mile, baby.”

“Well you know it’s tour time, I work out harder now.”

She tucked a silky wet lock of hair behind his ear and leaned into him. He smelled like her and that indefinable Jon. “Leaving me so soon,” she sighed.

He scrunched down on the couch, turning his face to hers as he finished off his make-shift dinner. “It’s the hardest part about this. I just got you back and I have to go again.”

She forced her voice to sound even and strong. She wasn’t ever going to be one of those girlfriends that would go on the road with him. Her home, her life and her passion was in her store. It would never be by his side with that life. “How long?”

“Not long, it’s just a few shows in Canada.”

Her belly tightened. This was the part she would hate, but came as part of the package. Probably a part that she never thought she’d be around to deal with in all honesty. “When do you have to go?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“So soon?” The words came out before she could rein them in.

He rolled toward her, his fingers in her hair, dragging her face into his. His mouth, hot, hard and demanding—there was a trace of unease in him, she could feel it. The both of them wanting things between them to be perfect again, but it never would be like it was. She kissed him back, arching forward onto her knees, until she loomed over him. Until her own fingers were tangled in the overgrown shag of his sunstreaked hair. Pouring everything that was her love and now—unyielding commitment—into the kiss.

Until he soothed and the kiss gentled. His lips went from hard and convincing in the way that words would never convey, to a firm belief. Her eyes opened, their lips still not quite able to part, but their eyes locked. She leaned against his chest, the soft hair warred with the unbelievably firm lines of him. Finally, she pulled back, keeping her eyes on his. “When I know you’re mine, distance doesn’t matter. I guess I just didn’t want to break the bubble again.”

“Well, the real tour doesn’t start until the fall, this is just some summer stuff to get people to buy the album and realize we’re back.”

She grinned. “You do realize how—“

He lifted her onto his lap again, until her butt was on the satiny material of his thighs. Resting her hands on each shoulder she laughed when he shushed her with a finger to her lips. She nipped the tip and he groaned, leaning in for another quick kiss. “I sure as shit didn’t intend on going out on the road already. We had stuff to say.”

Her hands lowered to the furriest part of him, her thumbs smoothing over the defined line of pectoral muscles. “I wanted to listen. I wanted to hear what it was that you and Richie labored over…”

He kissed her forehead, then her mouth. “I understand.”

“Do you?” She looked into his eyes, clear and unwavering. He truly didn’t get what his music meant to her. She shook her head, laughing to herself. “I guess I have a CD to buy on the way home.”

His lips did a funny little twitch. “I guess you do.”

Before she could figure out just what that meant, he distracted her again.

~

Jon padded out to the wide wrap around deck and up to the widow’s walk. The sky was a misty grey that matched the wave caps of the ocean. It was a test run of sorts…he had to see if he could walk away from her. Like gravity, their bed pulled at him. He wanted to be spooned around her, to feel the little purr in her chest when she was completely exhausted.

Instead he drew smoke into his lungs and watched the tide come in. Any need this fierce was usually attached to proving himself in some new venture—it wasn’t love that consumed him like this. Even as stabilizing as Dorothea had been all through the first half of his life, he’d never been distracted from his work. The brass ring was a singular goal that was always out of reach—mostly because he put it there. One goal always turned into another. It was what made him successful, and sometimes an asshole, about his career.

He wasn’t sure the puzzle of Tessa would ever be solved. Maybe that was exactly what he needed. There would always be another goal when it came to them—another part of her to discover. He felt a buzz in his pocket, flipping the shield open to find Richie’s number on his phone.

“Hey.”

“Don’t, ‘hey’ me—call a brother back.”

He smiled into the phone. “I was busy getting my girl back.”

“Yeah?” Richie’s voice was scratchy with sleep, or he’d just rolled into bed—one or the other. “Does that mean Jon the asshole will be absent from the flight tonight?” Jon heard the snick of Richie’s lighter through the phone and before he could answer back. “Oh wait, never mind—at least replace Mr. Crankypants.”

“Fuck you,” he laughed through a stream of smoke.

“Hopefully Tessa’s taking care of that job, thank you very much.”

“We’re good.”

“Really?”

He could hear the doubt in his best friend’s voice. Couldn’t blame him really. How many times had he said the same thing? “A rough couple of days, but yeah.”

“Good.”

He snorted. “Thanks.”

“Hell, Jonny, if it was easy to get her back then it never would have worked.”

He wished that Richie was wrong on that end, but he knew it was as close to dead on as it could be. They’d done easy and screwed it up. Both of them came with far too much baggage and history to think that they could just pick up and start a new life without something holding them back. “Well, then I expect another thirty or forty years of happy after these last few months.”

“At least one of us found it.”

“I don’t have any doubt you will too one day.” Richie deserved what he had more than anyone else on the earth, but he wouldn’t push his luck. He’d never hoped to find another relationship after Dot, why would Richie feel any different about his wife?

“Are the vag moments over?”

Jon tipped his head back with a long laugh. “Tampon removed.”

“Thank fuck.”

“I’ll be driving back in a few hours.”

“I’ll meet you at the house.”

He stuffed his phone back into his pocket. If he sounded like a love-sick fool, at least Rich hadn’t called him on it. He leaned on the rail, letting the wind and the mist batter at him for a bit. He did love the beach and its healing properties. Maybe Tessa would love the Hampton house as much as this one. Though he certainly didn’t mind having the Bouchet house at his disposal.

No one knew him there, that was for sure.

“Jon?”

“I’ll be right down.” He got mid way down the stairs and stopped as Tessa’s rumpled self stood in the doorway. His Springsteen River Tour shirt skimmed the tops of her thighs, showing a hint of red panties and long creamy legs. Freckles sprinkled over her nose and cheeks lending a little girl quality to her classy elegance.

He came down the last few steps. “Hey.”

She wound her arms around his shoulders. “Wet.”

He tugged her in closer as the sea spray and Tessa mixed into a wet kiss. “Morning.”

She hissed as his cool hands landed on her hips. “You snuck out.”

“Uh…”

She wrinkled her nose. “You went for a cigarette.”

“Guilty.” When she didn’t say anything further, he laughed. “Not going to yell at me?”

“You know you’re not supposed to smoke.”

“Ouch, that’s worse.” He draped his arm around her shoulders until she bumped against him. “I just wanted to get a little sea air before—“ he cut himself off.

She put her hand on his belly, looking up at him. “It’s okay, you can say leave. I know you’ll have to leave me in a little while. Just wish you’d woken me up. I don’t want to waste any time with you.”

“I had a helluva time leaving you actually.” He kissed her temple. “I talked to Richie, too.”

“Oh yeah? Does he still hate me?” She drifted away before he could answer and headed for the kitchen. “Want some coffee?”

“Yeah,” he called out. Richie didn’t hate her, but just like any other best friend, he hated to see what they’d put each other through.

He tapped a few keys on his laptop and ejected the CD he’d burned while outside. Tucking the blank CD in a jewel case from his bag, he wrote, ‘play me’ on the front and dropped it into Tessa’s bag.

She came back to the living room with two big mugs. “Fresh off the drip.”

He took one and sipped gratefully. “Thanks,” he murmured. He sat next to her, then got up again a minute later, the mug settled into his palm as he paced.

So many of the songs had come from them and the hope that encompassed the beginning stages of their relationship. Even some of the heartache that had been added in at the very end of recording was just as important. Giving that much of himself to her left him a little queasy, but he figured if anything would truly show her how much he cared, it would be through the music she loved as much as he did.

God help him.

“Does he still hate me?”

“Hmm?”

She stationed herself in front of him, her hands on his belly. “Where are you?”

He put his mug down and rubbed his hand down her arms. “Sorry. I was just thinking about how fast the morning was going.”

She poked him. “No you weren’t.”

He laughed. No, he wasn’t. Even on their rocky re-start she knew him better than most. “I don’t want to waste any time this morning,” he leaned down, catching her lips in a soft kiss.

She nipped at his lower lip.

“Ow!” He pressed his finger on the throbbing lower lip and looked at it for blood.

“Does Richie really hate me?”

“No! God, no.” He frowned down at her, dragging his focus back to their conversation. “Why would you think that?”

She shrugged. “Just a feeling. I got a disapproving,” she fluttered her fingers, “I don’t know…air from him, maybe.”

He pressed his lips together. As blind as she could be, Tessa could also be very observant. “We both made lots of mistakes, but Richie, more than anyone, would never hold it against you. He just wanted to bash our skulls together most of the time.” He brushed his lips over her temple. “We wasted a lot of time.”

“Maybe we didn’t.” Her hand crept up to his chest. “Maybe we’re exactly on time now. “We’ve been moving at warp speed for so long that perhaps we needed the time away from each other to realize just what was important.”

“If I hadn’t come to find you…would we have gotten back together?” He hated to ask that question, but it was something he needed to know.

“I would hope that I’d only be a coward for so long.” She played with the ends of his hair at his shoulders. “I don’t think I could stay away from you forever.”

“Good enough for me.” He tugged her back toward the bedroom. Something about them would always come back to center. He believed that more than anything. “Come wash my back.”