*14 - Need

“Cassidy?”

She bit off the end of her melodramatically prolonged Judy Garland finale, a tiny bit embarrassed to be caught singing in the shower by Jon Bon Jovi.  That was silly since he was a singer, after all.  He probably had his own guilty pleasure song that he belted out in the shower, even if it wasn’t Judy Garland. 

“Yeah?” 

The glass shower enclosure allowed her to plainly see he wasn’t in the bathroom with her, but his voice carried clearly through the door that was only an inch short of being closed.  “I’m ordering room service.  What do you want?”

She ate so little nowadays that food wasn’t really even on her radar.  Before coming to Tennessee, she’d been dieting pretty stringently, so there was no way she was eating any of the crap at Tully’s.  Microwave entrees, sandwiches, fruit and salad were the extent of her meals in recent weeks.  ““Uhhh… Salad with vinaigrette?  I’m pretendin’ to be a vegetarian this week.”

His laughter made her smile as she turned off the water.  Laughter was good.  It suggested that the unidentified demons plaguing him earlier must have retreated.  It was also reassuring and allowed her to believe that there wouldn’t be a repeat of his earlier behavior. 

Reaching for the towel draped atop the shower wall, she couldn't help but feel sorry for the man.  Rich as Jesus and famous as God, Jon should be living life as though he had the world by the tail.  She’d honestly thought his quiet reservation at Tully’s had been a ploy to keep interested parties – her – at bay, but now she knew differently. That gray haze that he carried like a cloak of gloom obviously made him miserable, yet he held onto it with a stranglehold, as though it protected from whatever was trying to hunt and devour him. 

The only exception so far had been this morning, when the gray haze had burned off like morning fog, leaving him as a regular person instead of a zombie-esque being.  She liked him much better without the gray haze and whatever had beaten that critter into submission was something Jon should be pursuing.  Happiness should be the rule, not the exception.

Cassidy hung up the towel and reached for the hotel hair dryer, eager to blow away the last remnants of grease stench along with the wetness.  Naked, she bent at the waist to direct attention to the underside of her hair until it was merely damp instead of wet and righted herself with a slight shake of the head. There was no need to fuss further with the coppery cloud.

This color was striking but it was such a nuisance to maintain.  She could see that a touchup of the roots would be necessary within the next week and it would be the third one so far, making her grateful she’d gotten a cosmetologist license before moving on to loftier things.  At least she wasn’t paying someone else to keep her looking like a natural(ish) redhead.

A thoughtful frown creased her face as she considered whether or not to apply fresh makeup.  She wanted to look nice, but it would only have to be washed off again in a short few hours before going to sleep.

You’ve only spent one night with the man, and you’re here because of your looks.  Put on the makeup. 

Out came the little cosmetic bag and, in turn, each of its magic potions.  Cassidy applied one at a time until her face revealed only a few slight imperfections that she were beyond concealing. 

One was the tiny scar on the point of her chin that she’d gotten during a childhood fight with her cousin Gerald Ray.  The miniscule wound from a GI Joe bayonet was cradled in the slight cleft there, so she didn’t worry about it too much.  The others were mostly lines at her eyes and mouth that were getting too deep to cover without spackle and a trowel, and she preferred to think of them as wisdom instead of imperfections.

Now for clothes…

“Don’t.”

Her head snapped up to the mirror and discovered Jon’s reflection lounging in the now-open bathroom entryway.  Sullen blue eyes connected to hers in the glass, and it took only a split second for Cassidy to recognize that brooding Jon was present and accounted for.  The cloak of gray wretchedly dulled what she knew to be a radiant smile and hair that was more salt than pepper stood haphazardly on end.  He’d obviously been running his fingers through it, but even a messy head borne of torment didn’t deter from his magnetism.  Jon didn’t need picture perfect hair to be magnificent.

“Don’t what?” she inquired with a sweet smile, hoping to shoo the cloak away.

“Don’t get dressed.” 

The soft words confirmed her original assumption about his intent, but she had wanted to hear him say it anyway.  To avoid misunderstanding and all.

“I’m not accustomed to dinin’ in the buff.”

Rather than take her teasing lightness and run with it, he hugged the damnable melancholy cape tighter.  His mouth drew taut at the corners and the eyes that still held hers captive wavered with doubt.  “I know I was a pig, but I’m hoping you won’t deny yourself an orgasm because of it.”

The nerve endings at her very core flared to life with the suddenness and force of an electric chair. 

Simple.  Straightforward.  Why did that turn her on about him?

It gives you permission to be the same.

“Because you want me?” she probed with intent. 

If he was going to stand there and be reticent, it would be careless not to exert the upper hand it afforded her.  She was inordinately curious about why he thought her special enough for a second night and, since he’d invited her to persuade more information out of him, Cassidy would be a fool not to use all the tools at her disposal.

“No.”

“I see you’re stickin’ with the brevity thing,” she called out Jon’s reflection, softening the accusation with an ineffective smile.  His subdued countenance didn’t even flinch in response, and blue eyes remained riveted to blue.

“It’s no longer a matter of want.” 

The eventual elaboration was quiet and accompanied by his entry into the bathroom.  Bare feet were silent on the tile as he took the minimum amount of steps necessary to stand directly behind her.  However, the only touch her naked skin registered was heat.  He was close enough to share warmth, yet there was no contact between them.  The only connection they had was through the mirror, where their faces were now reflected side-by-side and his hovered above her right shoulder. 

“I need you, Dixie.”

This time she found the brevity to be nothing short of perfection, and goosebumps danced a sexy tango over each inch of her exposed skin.  Her reaction was blatantly obvious, and Jon couldn’t possibly miss the way her nipples constricted under his gaze.

“Tell me it’s okay.”  The gentle plea was nothing more than a puff of air across her shoulder.  “I won’t lay a finger on you until you do.”

Those goosebumps went from the tango to the Macarena, and she was sorely tempted to close her eyes to savor the sensation.  In fact, her eyelashes fluttered heavily with the determination to do just that.  It was only the heat of him at her back combined with the magnetism of his reflection that prevented them from closing. 

She’d never experienced such an unusual – or potent – bout of foreplay and wondered if it was all the more provocative because he wasn’t specifically trying to arouse her.  Jon was only making sure things were right between them before taking what he wanted.

Needed.

“Why do you need me?”

“I don’t want to explain it,” was his weary refusal.  “Can’t you just be happy knowing you’re the only goddamn thing in the world that’ll satisfy me tonight?”

His beautiful face was so tortured that she would’ve done almost anything to ease his pain, and Cassidy turned from Jon’s reflection to the man himself, instinctively seeking to soothe him.  Deep blue eyes swam with thoughts and emotions that he fiercely withheld.  Whether it was due to stubbornness or self-preservation didn’t matter.  She was still helpless to do anything except yield to his need.

The palms she lifted to his chest were so much kinder than the ones that had pushed him away. They sought to bring him close.  The kiss she dusted over his lips was so much softer than his had been.  It begged to take away his distress.  Her whisper was so much more delicate than the angry words.  It spoke her willingness to be what he needed, no matter why.

“Yes.  I can.”

He expelled a pent up breath into the air above them, reaching to palm her naked backside as he bent for a markedly gentle kiss.  Rather than bruising her, his lips coaxed her.  They caressed her.  They asked permission for his tongue to slide against hers, and Cassidy sighed in consent as her arms slithered up to enfold his neck.

“Wrap your legs around my waist.”

She did as he bade, the edges of his leather belt digging erotically at her inner thighs as he carried her to the bedroom.  

Sex with him last night had been good, but it had been wholly physical.  If pressed, she would’ve described it as an enjoyable romp between the sheets that pleasantly scratched an itch – for both of them.

Jon had taken tonight to a different level with his distinction between want and need.  It was no longer an impersonal naked workout, it was personal for both of them.  She craved to exterminate the gloomy gray haze that suffocated him, while he “needed” her and seemed to be intent upon compensating for his earlier behavior.

The mattress sank under his weight as he slowly eased Cassidy into the pillows.  Another nice, but unheated, kiss covered her mouth and his tongue was torturously slow and lazy in tasting her.  His hands simultaneously roamed her breasts and tested their weight in his palms before expanding his fingers to create multiple trails of sensation across them.  When a thumbnail raked over her right nipple, she inhaled with pleasure and surged into the touch.

His mouth separated from hers, and open lips tugged amorously over her jaw, down her neck and across her shoulders.  The damp trail left behind cooled quickly, obliging the goosebumps to rise again as he latched onto one of her nipples and suckled. 

It wasn’t a simple pull either.  He opened his mouth wide, encompassing the entire front curve of her breast, and then let the softness slide free until he held nothing but the firm nipple.  His tongue curled around the hard tip like a piece of candy and then flicked briskly against it.  After a sharp bite, he let it go to dive lower, this time drawing the flesh into his mouth forcefully enough that she knew it would leave a mark.

“Hey,” she panted, tapping him on top of the head.  “What happened to no love bites?”

His lips shone and sculpted cheeks were flushed with color when he looked up.  “Did it hurt?”

“No.”

“Are you married or otherwise in a relationship?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not sorry.”

Cassidy regarded him intently, trying to discern the thoughts that were churning behind his eyes, but Jon was too practiced at concealing them.  She saw only what he wanted her to see – nothing – before he dipped his head to pepper her with more open-mouth kisses.

This time his lips skated over her torso.  Wide, callused hands splayed across her rib cage, then skimmed down her curves as he inched lower and lower.  Thick thumbs dragged along the crevice of her thigh, easing in to the edges of her folds.

“Hey.”  She slipped her hands down to his.  Not that she didn’t appreciate oral sex, but she didn’t need special attention to find satisfaction.  She would take care of herself and wanted him to do the same.  “I’ll make sure I enjoy the ride, no matter what.  Please yourself.” 

Again, his eyes hinted at untold thoughts, but he stuck with what he did best – brevity.  “I am.”

Persevering hands slid out from under hers to continue on their mission, parting her for a carnal kiss.

“Ohhhhh,” Cassidy hissed when she felt the wet heat of his mouth on her most private parts.  His first assault was a short one and, instinctively, her pelvis rose to track the retreating source of pleasure – his tongue.

The separation wasn’t long, and he delved back into the slickness to lave her as completely and thoroughly as she’d ever experienced.  She would swear to feeling each and every one of his taste buds scraping against the throbbing bud of her clit, and the sensation was nothing short of ecstasy. 

The coarseness of his hair tickled between her fingers as Cassidy gently, yet firmly, grasped his head and directed him to where it felt best.  She’d told him she wasn’t bashful, and that included not only doing it for herself, but telling him how to do it.

Being all man in bed, he tolerated that only briefly before broad shoulders muscled in, nudging her thighs as wide as they could possibly go.  He silently demanded and commandeered complete access to... everything.

“I need it all,” Jon mumbled, almost to himself, before lapping at what he’d so fully exposed.

Cassidy felt a finger push inside as he sucked her clit, and when it channeled deep, her muscles instinctively clamped with the insistence that it stay and keep her filled.  The ploy worked, because he didn’t withdraw but added a second finger to the first.  They worked in tandem to massage the delicate tissue that was eager to weep its appreciation.

His voice was nearly inaudible as he burrowed in to deliver another perfect swipe of the tongue.  “Give me more.”

Her body lurched in response to the lascivious mandate, and he obligingly flitted his tongue over the spot that ached the most.  The spot that, if given the proper attention, would give him the “more” he demanded and she craved.

“Come on, Dixie,” he coaxed, bearing down with an arduous onslaught that would bring her to her knees if she wasn’t already on her back.  His fingers stuffed her, his mouth annihilated her.  Each graze, each nudge, each fondle became increasingly impossible to endure.

“Oh my,” she gasped when her clit was captured in his teeth for a brief instant before he washed it in lecherous apology.  He was just a little right of center from where she wanted him to be, and Cassidy used subtle force against his jaw to guide him to the perfect spot.  When his broad tongue came in contact with it, her hips writhed, wantonly pressing closer to the source of her pleasure.  Between her hips pushing and her hands pulling, he might suffocate, but she was close.

So… so… sooo… clooose…

“Uhnnnhhhh!” 

Cassidy bent into a taut bow, convulsing against him when she normally would have retreated.  There was no other choice.  Now that he’d been escorted to the perfect spot, he refused to cease his sensual battering of it.  His movements against her hypersensitive core were fervid and persistent until he was finally convinced that she’d given everything she had. 

“Fuck, that was good, but I’m gonna die if I don’t get inside you,” he muttered, rising to strip his shirt and reach for his belt buckle.  “I’ve thought of nothing else all goddamn day.”

That was unexpectedly revealing and intriguing as Cassidy watched him from her promiscuously vulnerable position.  His body bunched and rippled with muscled perfection when he hopped from the bed and out of his pants.  Completely different, yet similarly perfect, muscles flexed when he dug in a pocket to locate a condom and roll it on. 

Cassidy didn’t move when he rejoined her on the bed, allowing him to dictate what he wanted.   When his hardness immediately split her still-throbbing softness, she inhaled sharply with the sensation, but remained passive. 

“Mo…ther…fuck…er,” he groaned with a decadent swivel of his hips once he was fully seated. 

The blatant appreciation for what she could give him stole Cassidy’s contentment in what he’d already given her.  She wanted more.  She wanted more for him.  She wanted to him to find whatever he was looking for in her.

“Get movin', handsome,” she breathed, locking her legs around him and tapping his backside with her heels to spur him on.

He wasted no time in accepting the encouragement she offered.  Narrow hips rolled back to rocket forward again with deep penetration, and he repeated the pattern.  Then again... and again. 

The plunges were deep, but slow until the friction ignited him to a faster pace.  Greedy thrusts then sought to consume her, or perhaps himself, and he dropped to his elbows so that he could hide his face in her neck. His groans were painfully arousing when placed directly in her ear, and Jon breathed her name, begging her to break so that he could follow, but she couldn’t.  It was too soon.

Give him what he wants.

Her hand slipped between them with a well-practiced maneuver that had his groin bumping the fingers she used for extra stimulation.  Repetitive flicking of just the right spot while he pounded in and out of her was the ideal combination to light a second set of fireworks…

“Ohbabythereitiskeepgoingkeep-“ 

The shrill piercing cry clawed its way up from the depths of her womb, but seemed like it traveled a much further distance before she heard it.  When the noise finally did register, she was pleased to find it intertwined with Jon’s hoarse release. 

It was a distinctive harmony that represented their combined pleasure. 

Melodic.

Unique. 

Powerful.

It was quite possibly the most enthralling thing Cassidy had ever heard.