*43 - Black Belt

“Did you kill somebody?”

“Did I…?  What!?” Cassidy exclaimed, her head snapping back to warily appraise him.  “Honey, you have done gone and lost your ever-lovin’ mind.  I absolutely did not kill anybody!”

What in the world would plant that idea in his head?  She was not, nor had she ever been, someone who could take a life.  She was a nurse for crying out loud!  Nurses preserved lives; they didn’t take them.

The bottomless grooves in his forehead smoothed considerably.  “Then what are you calling an unfortunate series of events?”

“Unfortunate events?  Is that what had you puttin’ blood on my hands?”

He shrugged and aloofly noted, “The way things are going, I’m starting to think anything is possible.”

“Well, I didn’t kill anybody, so get that outta your head.”

“I can’t unless you tell me what the fuck ‘unfortunate events’ means.”

Spare the man somethin’, would you?  He had enough problems before you showed up.  Don’t compound them any more than you already have.

“You know how it is when family quarrels start,” she downplayed the situation with the wave of a hand.  “Things are said and done that can’t be taken back.  It’s just pitiful that greediness can cause such a rift between folks that are supposed to be there for one another.  Uncle Stanley and his family are the only livin’ relatives Libby and I have left, besides our kids.”

“Family can be a pain in the ass.”

He was right about that.  Never in her life had she expected there to be such drama over this whole thing and Cassidy deplored drama.  In her mind, a person should do what needed to be done – what was right – and carry on to the next thing.  Wasn’t that what life was all about?  Doing your part and not bringing harm to anyone else in the process? 

Such a simple concept and yet so many people didn’t get it.  It was sad, really.

“It is what it is,” she optimistically pronounced, forcing those particular clouds out of her mind.  Nothing could be done about it until she found good old Beauregard, so it was time to move on to something else.  “Now are you ready to jump on a plane headed back East and forget all about me?  I wouldn’t hold it against you.  I’ve turned your slice of escapist happiness into a migraine, I’m sure.”

“Not a migraine.”  He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, or even crease them at the corners.  “Just an average headache.  More coffee will help.”

“We finished talkin’?” she inquired when he arose and moved toward the door.  Since he wanted more coffee, Cassidy assumed he was going to retrieve his cup.  “If so, I’ll shower.”

“No.” 

The door shut gently behind him as he stepped outside and Cassidy stretched out on her side to watch his progress through the windows.  A hard set jaw and prominent creases around his mouth said that he was troubled again – and this time it was because of her.   

Not for a single moment had she planned to do anything but sleep with a very handsome man and then cherish the memory of it.  How could she have anticipated that she would have a soft spot the size of New Jersey for that man and his inner struggles?  Or that she would create more?  

Lord, it’s me again.  I have no idea what to say, but it seems like I ought to be prayin’ for somethin’.  I reckon I’ll just say thank You for keepin’ a convoluted situation as tidy as it can be.  There’s nothin’ I need for me, but he sure could use a little somethin’. 

“You want yours warmed up?”  Jon inquired upon returning and lifted his hands to show he’d brought retrieved both cups from the patio.

“Please.” 

He nodded tersely, going from the front door to the back and out to the kitchenette. 

Cassidy rolled to her other side to track his second leg of the journey, thinking that this was a first for her.  She was always the one to announce the presence of the elephant in the room.  It always seemed to her that it was easier to acknowledge it and go forward rather than hide behind it, yet here she was, willing to put a doily on the damn thing and call it a coffee table just to keep from finding out that she’d screwed up a perfectly good affair.

When Jon came back across the little footbridge, she took small comfort in the fact that he didn’t look so troubled – or maybe that was her imagination.  He seemed to have a light of determination in his eyes, as though some decision had been made out in that little kitchenette, and that the mundane chore of getting coffee had enabled him to put all his ducks in a row.

Please don’t let the elephant trample the ducks.  Nobody wants to clean up that mess.

She slid from the bed to meet him as he came back inside and accepted her cup with quiet thanks.  With only the window to lean against in bed, it didn’t seem a comfortable spot to sip coffee, and he must have agreed, because he chose to settle on one end of the loveseat.  Still trying to feel out the situation, Cassidy chose a chair at the dinette table about eight feet away. 

“Okay,” he announced after a deep swallow, leaning back against the neutrally upholstered cushions and resting the mug on his thigh.  “What will get a legal claim staked and what can I do to help expedite that so you can get your life back?”

That was it?  The one time she had feared the elephant, it was no more than a mouse?  Jon was just going to…

“Forgive me for bein’… me, but I sorta got the impression you were put off by my situation?”

“A little, but it doesn’t change anything.”  He gradually tilted his head to the side and shrugged.  “I’m the type of guy that makes a decision and follows it through to the end, right or wrong.  My decision about… us was made before you got home last night.”

Her heart felt so light that Cassidy would swear it filled with helium and floated all the way up to her chin.

Lord, I told You I didn’t need anything, but I guess You knew I did.  Thank You.

She shot an arrogant grin at him, taking a tiny moment to savor the joy of being a girl who liked a boy who liked her back.  That was a fully permissible thing to do before she had to deal with extraneous details like wives and morals.

“When I got here, you were listenin’ to my version of Bon Jovi.  You’re gonna invite me to join the band now, aren’t ya?” 

His mouth twisted with the struggle to suppress his smile, but he couldn’t quite pull it off.  “Don’t push your luck.”

“Luck?” she scoffed, feeling inordinately feisty as she plunked her mug down on the table and rose from her seat.  It was with a sardonically quirked eyebrow that she sauntered toward him, fixed her left hand on the arm of the loveseat and bent until she was nose to nose with him. “I’m good and you’re smart.  That’s all the luck I need.”

The hand that wasn’t steadying Jon’s coffee lifted to glide up her cheek and tangle in disheveled hair. 

“You are very good,” was the murmured concession as his eyes twinkled with…  Cassidy was going to call it happiness.  Maybe it was something different, but it suited her to think he was happy and feeling as feisty as she was right now. 

“Then ask me to be part of your band,” she whispered.

Firm fingers curled to cradle her skull, and his grip gently propelled her face toward his.  “I wasn’t talking about your vocals.”

“Oh, hell,” she groaned as his lips touched hers. 

His tongue wasn’t harsh or forceful, but it commanded an entry that she readily gave and the ensuing kiss tasted as much of entitlement as it did coffee.  The tongue that arrogantly roamed the soft recesses of Cassidy’s mouth was in search of satisfaction that he knew she could provide and, while he didn’t seek to dominate her with the lazy mating of mouths, Jon made it clear that she was his. 

“Tell me you weren’t thinking about that when you recorded ‘In These Arms’,” he demanded softly and nipped at the fullness of her bottom lip.

Think?  Who can think? 

He had damn sure made his decision about them and Cassidy’s head whirled with its chronicling in that single bonding kiss.  His lips and attitude had verbosely illustrated that this wasn’t their first rodeo together while also subtly indicating they were nowhere near goodbye.  It foretold of an upcoming sequel that had yet to be written – or at least an extra chorus at the end of their duet. 

Music.  Recording.    

As a co-writer on that song, David had oh-so-kindly tried to give her direction on how to deliver it effectively.  She appreciated his time and insight, but had very strong ideas that leaned in another direction.  It had necessitated an extra-large helping of charm and coaxing him to let her “just try it once”, but Cassidy had come away the victor.  She had flat-out killed it.  When it was done, he and Obie both had effusively praised the vocal stylings that Jon had dubbed “porn vocals”. 

“Well…” She unhurriedly straightened herself and reached for his coffee, placing it negligently on the side table.  “Can’t say that I was thinkin’ about kissin’ you durin’ that recording, but every time I sang ‘I’d get down on my knees’…  It was most assuredly accompanied by a vision of your belt buckle.”

His throaty chuckle hit her low in the belly.  “You and my damn belt.”

“A woman can’t help what turns her on,” she reasoned with a slow, lazy smile and gracefully sank to her knees – while humming the song’s refrain. 

“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind with that lyric,” he spoke gently.  Just as gently, he pushed all ten fingers into her hair while his eyes lit with a fire she’d come to recognize. 

“Then consider it a bonus blessin’.” 

She resumed humming and lightly placed her palms on his thighs, skimming up to gradually part the unbuttoned denim shirt he wore.  That wasn’t enough, though.  What she pursued still lay hidden, and her fingertips languidly nudged beneath the soft gray hem of his t-shirt.  The anticipation was almost as thrilling as the final destination, she thought as the cotton incrementally inched upward to finally reveal his navel and… belt buckle.

It wasn’t much to speak of as far as belt buckles went.  A simple square of black gunmetal with matching prong, it bore no obvious signs of sexual appeal – except for the wide black leather that it held secure.

“Why is it...” he pondered while sifting her untamed hair through his fingers.  “...that you do one of my fucking songs every time you start taking my pants off?  You’re ruining my entire catalog for the rest of the world.”

Agile fingers pushed under the section of belt held securely inside the buckle and wiggled until the short end slithered free with a muted rasp.  There was now a six-inch flap delivering an imagined sizzle to her fingertips, and Cassidy glanced up to find him watching her with slumberous desire. 

“I’m just…” She leisurely bent the end of the belt back to free it from the prong, and the abrasion of leather against metal sent a tingle up her arm.  “…givin’ ‘em some new life.”

She had only to pull the leather end from under the buckle’s frame and it would dangle open at his waist.  So little effort would be required to inch that leather free of its confinement.   Rugged leather would hang enticingly, exposing the button on his jeans. The button that led to the zipper that led to…

“You’re killin’ me is what you’re doin’,” he rumbled.  Single-minded fingers locked around her wrists and held them away from his waist.  “Making my goddamn belt some erotic idol.  If I could figure out how to fuck you with it, I would.”

Pushing her carefully so that she rocked back on her heels, he used the strength in his thighs to propel himself upright before tugging at her to stand with him. 

“I…” Jon carefully enunciated, releasing his grip on her to reach for the slack leather.  “…am going to take off the object of your obsession.  So, if it’s a turn-on, pay close attention.”

Cassidy’s lips rolled inward and were immediately gouged by the edges of her teeth, but she scarcely noticed the quick pinch of pain.  Her full attention was on the square-tipped fingers that were provocatively sliding leather free from metal. 

Only about three captive inches remained when he cruelly halted progress.  His grin was nothing short of roguish when using one blunt thumb to purposefully stroke the supple leather and leisurely repeating the gesture in the opposite direction.  Then he did it again.

Jon was blatantly teasing her with the sensuality of his action and assuming that it would affect her.

He was right. 

It affected her as surely as if he’d made that stroke between her legs. 

“You watchin’ little girl?”

She nodded mutely, her eyes tracking every movement as he enclosed the buckle in his palm.  There was the briefest pause before he tugged and the wide band of leather began creeping through the loops that held it in at his waist.  Inch by inch, it was extracted and Cassidy fixed her sight on the ever-lengthening portion that was free of denim. 

“I don’t think I need to say this,” he murmured as the final bit of belt escaped to sway invitingly in the air.  “But in the interest of there being no misunderstanding, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her focus snapped up so that Cassidy could look him in the eye when delivering an unperturbed smile.  “Never crossed my mind, baby doll.”

“Good.”  Still clutching the buckle, Jon wound the belt leather around his hand until only about eight inches remained uncoiled.  “Take the shirt off.”

There would be no need to repeat himself, as Cassidy’s black t-shirt was floating to the ground almost before he completed the sentence.  It left her wearing nothing but a pair of panties in the same shade of black, which quickly found a home beside the shirt.

A fully dressed Jon stepped close and he lifted the belt’s rounded end to the juncture of her clavicle and left shoulder.  With a sluggishness that was almost as painstaking as the way he’d unwound the belt from his waist, that rounded tip languidly grazed along the ridge of her collar bone until it reached the center of her chest.  That’s when leather was meticulously worked downward – over her sternum, between her breasts, through the plane of her stomach, across her belly button and, finally, to the top of her mound.

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” Cassidy breathlessly prayed from behind closed eyes, shamelessly savoring the wickedness of it.

There was that throaty chuckle again, followed by another erotic trek of the belt – this time starting at her right shoulder.  Clavicle, sternum, stomach and navel were impeccably chafed before the heartless man ended contact just above her weeping femininity. 

“Turn around and show me your gorgeous ass.”

No.  She wasn’t ready to move on yet.  Cassidy wanted to be revered by the sexiest piece of animal hide she’d ever laid hands on.

“Do it,” he commanded under his breath. 

When those words were uttered in that way by the sexiest man she’d ever laid hands on…  Cassidy’s wants shifted and she feared it was only a short time before she was no longer able to stand under her own power.  Between his suggestive teasing and the seducing directives, she was melting faster than Ramona Hardwick’s Jell-O mold at the Fourth of July picnic.

Keenly aware of the prickling nerve endings that sizzled atop her skin, Cassidy found that even the simple glide of hardwood under her pivoting foot was titillating.  Soft lips nuzzling at her shoulder was almost too much to bear and Cassidy sucked a harsh breath.  The ensuing gentleness of his kiss, damp heat of his breath and moist eroticism of his tongue were… excruciating. 

She could no longer hold her head upright under the pleasure, and it lolled aside to invite more. 

Then…  When his arms wrapped around her… And she felt the exquisite pressure…  Followed by the decadent abrasion of leather against both nipples…

“Ohh fuuck.”  The exclamation was no more than a puff of air, but he heard it and coaxed the belt more snugly into her aching breasts.

“Say it again.”

The leather strap between his fists was dragged over the same throbbing terrain in reverse, scraping stiff nipples as it went and tenderly ripping out the word he wanted to hear.

“Oh fuck.”

When he again reversed course on the belt’s journey, this pass came with a different pressure – a mere ghost of sensation.  She had just begun to wonder if it was her imagination when he went back the other way with renewed power that drove turgid peaks deep into the pliancy of her bosom.

“Fuck!”

Jon’s unmistakable arousal bumped into her backside as the belt took another leisurely trip across her, and he softly growled, “Told ya you’d say it.”

Cassidy couldn’t take any more.  She’d had enough.  Her clit was throbbing like a rolling Georgia thunderstorm and her fingers slipped low to ease the ache.

“Don’t.”

The belt fell away and Jon forcibly extracted her searching fingers from weeping folds that cried out to be touched. 

“Dammit!”  Her mewl was pathetic as she leaned back into his strength while simultaneously fighting against that same strength for control of her hand.  “I’m gonna die if I don’t orgasm.”

“I’ll give it to you,” he assured calmly, and used the influence of his embrace to guide her toward the bed, urging her onto the rumpled sheets.  “Wait for me.”

Cassidy was astonished at how cool the cotton was that rasped against her overheated flesh.  She had to be flushed.  She knew she could hear her own ragged breathing and that her chest thumped as painfully as her desire. 

“Hurry,” she brazenly begged, and her hands drifted feverishly up and down her torso while just barely managing to stay clear of ground zero.  “Please, baby doll.”

Then he was there.

One firm thrust forced all the oxygen from her lungs to permeate the air with a hearty sigh of relief. 

“Cassidy.”

He might have said her name or she might have imagined it.  Cassidy didn’t really care.  There were far more enticing things to focus her attention on. 

The tickle of his hairy thighs against hers.  The wonderful way he stretched her.  The succulence of his lips on hers.  The pornographic invasion of his tongue.  His deliciously furred chest cradling the breasts he had so callously taunted.  The wickedly intimate slap of flesh as two lovers sought completion in one another.

“Please! Please...  PleaseJon.  PleaseJon!” 

Her body jarred with the impact of his claim.  It shuddered with the ecstasy.  It howled when left lacking.  It begged.  It pleaded.  It wailed with desire, even as he reassured her.

“It’s…”  Thrust.  “…comin’, baby.”  Plunge.  “…I’ll …” Submerge.  “…take care…” Possess.  “…of you.”

Cassidy bowed into a rigid arch.  “Fuckkk!!!”

She breathlessly convulsed against his hardness and splintered into a quadrillion pieces.  Pieces so tiny that it felt like a glitter bomb had exploded in the room.  Pieces so minute that she knew she would never get them all back again.  Pieces that he took with him when he hurtled over the edge behind her.