11 - Come Back

Cassidy’s eyes fluttered open and then closed again.  Everything was black.  Very black. 

The pillow covering her face was shoved aside, but that only provided a slight improvement.  Shadows were still heavy in the room and heavier than they should be for her cabin.  It was impossible to keep it this dark after the sun rose. 

Rolling over to seek out her phone, she experienced a twinge of tenderness between her legs.  A very specific tenderness that resulted from only one thing and that was sex.   Good sex, repeated multiple times. 

Jon.

She shoved up onto her elbow and peered at the other side of the bed, which was empty.  A glance at the clock showed that it was six-thirty, and that was way too early to be up and about after the night they’d had. 

Slithering out from under the covers, she padded her naked self to the bathroom for the usual morning business and, while washing her hands, she couldn’t help but notice his unzipped shaving kit sitting on the vanity.  It was wrong, it was intrusive and it was extremely poor etiquette, but that little black bag piqued her curiosity in the worst possible way. 

I’m not gonna take anything, I’m just gonna have a quick little look-see.  That okay, Lord?

Since there was no thunder to indicate a negative response, she took the liberty of poking around and discovered that the contents were absurdly mundane:  razor, shaving cream, toothpaste, toothbrush, hairbrush and medication.  One prescription for allergies, one for an antidepressant and one for…  Viagra. 

Oh, there’s no way in hell.  Last night was beyond the capabilities of a little blue pill.

The label indicated that a quantity of ten pills had been prescribed, so Cassidy twisted the lid and examined the contents of the bottle.  One, two, three, four, five…  All ten tablets were still present and accounted for, and confirmed her confidence in his natural virility.  That double-header last night had been all Jon, with no artificial assistance required.

Still, she took a closer look at the label and noted that it had been filled Friday – the day after she met him.  Quickly glancing at the dates on the other two medications, she saw that they were filled the same day, but it was two weeks before the Viagra.   Meaning they were probably regular monthly refills while the other was… new.

Cassidy wasn’t an egotistical woman.  She was confident that most men thought her attractive, but following that trail around to a spot that had Jon getting Vie day after they met because they met…  That was all just a little far-fetched.  It had to be sheer coincidence, and she should stop invading his privacy.  Right now.

Pill bottles were tucked back into the shaving kit just as she’d found them, and she left the bathroom without a backward glance.  Trying to un-see what her nosiness had uncovered, she pushed a quick hand through her hair and passed up the bed in favor of the bedroom door. 

She was still curious over Jon’s whereabouts and assumed he would be in the living room if he hadn't completely left the suite.  The lamp burning on the far end of the sofa allowed her to see that her first assumption was correct.  Jon was sitting in one of the armchairs, guitar balanced on his knee. 

“Hey.  Did I wake you?” 

Oh my Lord a’mighty. 

That very sexy body was minimally covered by a pair of gym shorts – and the guitar.  That’s it. 

His ab muscles rippled, his pectorals flexed and his biceps bulged, making her once again offer a prayer of thanks for the very fine parts God had pieced together on this man.  As though that alone wasn’t enough to make a girl googly eyed, for the very first time since meeting him, Cassidy was treated to a smile that extended beyond his lips.  His eyes shone with delight and the stress lines in his cheeks and forehead had virtually vanished.  By all appearances, he was… happy.

Brooding Jon had been indescribably handsome, but this jovial, half-naked version of him was truly a sight to behold.

A man shouldn’t be that pretty with bed head.  It just ain’t fair.

“Damn, honey,” she marveled appreciatively.  “Gettin’ laid agrees with you.  And no, you didn’t wake me up. Did you sleep at all?”

She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but his hotness quotient racked up another ten points when he laughed. 

“Not much, although your outfit there makes me wanna go back to bed.”

Cassidy glanced down at herself with a chuckle.  His appearance this morning had flummoxed her so much that she’d nearly forgotten she was standing in front of him buck naked. She leaned over to retrieve her discarded clothes from last night and stepped into her panties, nodding toward the tablet page that held significantly more writing than it had when she arrived last night. 

“How’s the writin’?”

“I’ll take that as a 'no' on the bed thing,” he drawled.  “But that’s okay, since I’m being productive and might have actually put together a few lyrics worth saving.”

“Oh, yeah?”  She zipped her jeans and slipped arms through the straps on her bra while twisting her head to read what was on the paper.  “Like what?”

When he didn’t reply, she slipped her eyes toward him.  The smile was still in place, but she also encountered his indecipherable stare. 

“Sorry.  Is that top-secret information?”

The briefest frown creased his mouth before his messy silver head shook in negative reply.  “Like a phoenix from the ashes, welcome to the future, it’s a new day.”

There was no more perfect way to describe the change in him.  He’d been buried, dull and gray in the ashes, and now he was… She wouldn’t go so far as to say he was on fire, but he was something akin to vibrant. 

“Very inspirational,” was her impartial observation.  Although impartiality flew out the window in the next breath when she slipped the blouse over her head and tacked on, “And pretty damned appropriate from where I’m sittin’.”

His smile dimmed a little, with his features slipping toward a mask of contemplation rather than joy, and she once again found herself as the object of his scrutiny.

“Sorry.  None of my business.”  Her backside hit the couch cushion, and she bowed forward to snag her high heels.  “So, in case I neglected to mention it, I really enjoyed singin’ with you last night.  Thank ya for the opportunity.”

Jon visibly returned from wherever his thoughts had taken him, and that dazzling twinkle reclaimed his eyes.  “Minimum of two orgasms in my bed, and you tell me it’s singing you enjoyed?  Are you kidding me?”

Her attention swiveled from the buckle on her shoes to the ostensibly insulted man at her left.  “Honey, if you missed my enjoyment of that, then you’re not quite as bright as I’ve been givin’ you credit for.”

A bark of laughter filled the room, and he dropped his chin with a rueful shake of the head.  “Dixie, you’re hell on a guy’s ego.”

Dixie, huh?  She’d been called worse.

“Professional musicians don’t have fragile egos,” she observed confidently, with no concern whatsoever about his supposedly bruised ago.  “If they did, they would never make it to the professional level in the first place.”

His snort was something new that she hadn’t heard.  “You’re some kind of Confederate fortune cookie, aren’t you?”

“Could be.”  Cassidy pushed to her feet and reached for her purse at the same time he put his guitar aside.  “But this cookie wouldn’t mind singin’ with you again sometime, if you find yourself with time on your hands.”

“Duly noted.”

So, he didn’t share the same enthusiasm about the beautiful music they’d made together.  Being a man, he probably wasn’t quite as enthused about the “beautiful music” they’d made together in bed either.  Okay, so they were both more hard rock than ballads.  Neither experience was less gratifying for it, but she should go before she wore out her welcome.

“I gotta get goin’.”

Jon had risen at the same time as she and now accompanied her toward to the door.  When a hand extended in search of the knob, he stepped between her and the door to effectively block her departure. 

“Come back tonight.”

Cassidy drew up short, lifting an inquisitive eyebrow.  “That’s unexpected.”

“I doubt that,” he rebutted, copycatting the eyebrow maneuver. 

All joking and eyebrows aside, it was actually beyond unexpected.  Astonishing was more appropriate.

Finding him contentedly scribbling away and structuring chords, she had assumed her work here was done.  Distraction/stress relief achieved, he could get on with the business of writing.  That belief had been compounded by the singing interchange. She’d expected, maybe, a quick kiss at the door before being merrily ushered out to resume a humble existence and reminisce about her one wild night with a rock god. 

Yet he wanted her to return.  To repeat… it was unexpected.

“Why do you want me to come back?”

He lifted his hand to stroke a thumb against her cheek, musing, “Maybe my ego isn’t the only one injured here?”

Her snicker was soft, and Cassidy shook her head in denial.  “My ego is just fine.  I know you had a good time, I just didn’t realize it would bear repeatin’.”

“Oh, it sure as hell bears repeating.” 

This smile that met his eyes could be dangerous in the right context - like any context in which he wanted her to do something that was against her better judgment.  Spending another night most assuredly fell into that category.  One night she could keep superficial, but two would be pushing it.  

“I have to work.”  It was the opening shift that ended at six, but that was a frivolous detail.

“Okay.”  His hand dropped from her cheek to his hip.  “Tell me what time you get off, and I’ll meet you at your place.” 

Her eyebrows knit together with confusion, and her head tipped curiously to one side.  She normally considered herself to be a smart cookie, but she was having the worst time wrapping her head around why he was hell-bent on an encore.  Shouldn’t he be thankful that she wasn’t going to form some type of freakish attachment to him?

Because it wouldn’t be that hard to do - forming an attachment, that is.

“I apologize for bein’ a little slow on the uptake here, but my hoo-ha ain’t that special.  That makes it hard to understand why you’re not relieved by my willin’ness to walk out the door and not look back.  You could have a new plaything by evenin’.”

Jon’s hands came to encircle her waist, and he propelled her backward until her shoulder blades came in full contact with the door.  Her waist was subsequently released in favor of her wrists, and he pinned those directly above her head before inching close enough for their chests to bump and the warmth of his breath to heat her face.

“I’m not in the habit of explaining myself.”  The low voice wasn’t meant to be menacing, just potent.  “I want you.  You wanna know more than that, figure out a way to persuade me tonight.”

Oh sweet Jesus.  Brooding Jon is sexy.  Happy Jon is beautiful.  This… This… aggressive Jon is panty meltin’.

“I-“ Cassidy’s voice squeaked embarrassingly, forcing her to clear her throat.  “I can be here about seven-thirty.”

Divine lips slid back to bare stunningly white teeth in a grin that could only be categorized as feral.  She half expected him to take her mouth in an equally feral kiss, but he did no such thing.  Jon simply released her wrists and executed a step back, allowing her to once again move as she wished. 

“I’ll look forward to it.  Thank you, Cassidy.”