*48 - In These Arms

Cassidy pulled his face down for a long, lazy kiss, hoping like the dickens that he wouldn’t go down this road now.  It had been ages since she’d allowed herself to indulge with alcohol and enjoying it would be far preferable to futilely trying to make sense of something nonsensical.

“C’mon baby doll,” she entreated, caressing expanded hands over his chest and abdomen.  “Let me make you happy tonight.”

Deep thoughts brewed in eyes that had gone almost navy.  He was having a serious conversation without her participation and she desperately wanted to intercede before it took a turn that landed them somewhere other than Afterglow Avenue. 

“Jon...”  Her whisper was as light as the midday breeze against his chin as Cassidy snaked down to unbutton his pants again.  One hand slipped inside parted denim to resurrect the physical interest that had begun to wane, stroking it with a precision that he’d always responded to.  “Sanity’s waiting for you.  All ya gotta do is crawl between my legs and claim it.”

That did the trick. 

“Ah, fuck it,” he muttered.

Arms that had been dangling bent to cradle her head with brawny hands so that he could deliver a kiss that was hotter than an Atlanta sidewalk on Labor Day. 

The hand that encircled his shaft went still as Cassidy’s lips sizzled from the heat he poured into that kiss.  His big, broad tongue seemed even bigger when demanding that hers dance with it, and taste buds raked against one another as she vaguely noted the flavor of wine mingling with whiskey.

Her licentious moan was lost in the greed of his branding.  There was no doubt in Cassidy’s mind that he was exercising proof of ownership and, if she were kind, she’d tell him he didn’t need to. 

She was already his, but it terrified her to admit it.  A woman like her didn’t find… this with a man like him.  A man who was married, on top of everything else.  It was a cruel joke of the devil and it hurt her heart to admit she’d been taken in like a naïve fool.  That she was being dazzled into believing this was deeper than a tawdry affair.

She could barely admit that to herself and Cassidy wasn’t willing to put it all out there for him.  She wouldn’t – couldn’t.  A few shreds of dignity and pride had to be preserved so that she could survive the inevitable conclusion of the grandest interlude in her life.

When he finally broke the kiss, the air was cool against the wet sheen he left behind and her lungs ached as though they’d been deprived of oxygen for hours.  The rough velvet of his tongue scratched tantalizingly over the tendon that disappeared beneath her clavicle and, once he’d washed it from top to bottom, he pulled it into his mouth.

“Oh!”

Cassidy’s cry was spurred as much by arousal as the sharp pain of his teeth digging into the skin.  That was a good thing, because he didn’t stop.  It only made him draw harder, rolling the flesh between his teeth and tongue as he sucked with the sole, dogged purpose of bruising her. 

“You like marking me, don’t you?”  Her stroking hand picked its rhythm up again.  He needed to grow from merely firm into the velvet steel that would split her open. 

Her neck was released with a pop of his lips, and he licked over the spot that would shine vibrantly for days, making her look like a hussy.  “It’s one of the most motherfuckin’ satisfying things in the world.”

“Whatever makes you happy,” she murmured, not really caring.  It would cover easily enough with makeup, so he could leave a dozen if it suited him.

“You.” Her hand was carefully, yet purposefully removed from his now-prominent erection.  “Strip for me.”

A curious eyebrow arched in his direction.  “Take my clothes off or… strip?”

“Strip,” he confirmed.  “And sing ‘In These Arms’.”

Her girl-parts fluttered deliciously.  She’d known he would like that, even if he hadn’t admitted it yet.  With every verse and chorus she milked from that song, she had imagined tantalizing him with it.  With each infusion of longing into the desperate lyrics, she’d imagined luring him into her bed and her body.  Now she would do it for real.

“Take your pants off,” was her husky counter-command.  “Shoes and socks, too, but leave the shirt.  Go lay on the bed with your hand wrapped around your peter while you watch me, and I’ll do it.”

The messy gray head adamantly shook in the negative.  “I’m not gonna jack off.”

“What you’re not gonna do is let my hard...“ She glanced down at his stiffness waving like a flagpole.  “...work go to waste.  Keep that thing primed and ready for imminent hoo-ha humpin’.”

His laughter warmed her soul and Cassidy smiled wide against the brief and possessive kiss he bent to dispense.  “You’re funny.”

She’d gladly accept that for now.  In another few minutes, he’d be finding her anything but funny.

“You want commit-mennnt,” she crooned into his eyes with confidence and curled her fingers into the hem of her cobalt blouse.  “Take a loook in-tooo theeese eeeyes.”  The little zipper rattled when she whisked the silky fabric over her head and let it drift to the carpet.

“Christ almighty.”  There was barely a heartbeat before his pants hit the floor and Jon was toeing off his shoes and socks. 

“They burn wiith fiiiire. Un-tilll thee ennnd of tiiiime.”

White shirttails fluttered when he turned to stride through the bedroom door, and she momentarily regretted the request for him to leave the shirt on.  It was interfering with her view of a fabulously sculpted backside, but it would be worth the loss to see him propped up on the pillows with luxurious white cotton gathered on either side of his naked body.

“I would doo a-ny-thinng.  I’d beg.  I’d steal.  I’d diiee.  To feel you in these arms tonight.”

Following along behind, she watched him pile the pillows against the headboard and climb on the bed to recline into them.  A couple of quick tugs had his shirt unbunched from beneath him and the two sides of the unexpectedly sexy garment draped unevenly over his chest.  One side exposed a nipple and dropped to the bedspread at his waist while the other began parting at his navel, taking a path across the sharpness of his right hip before pooling on the bed.

And his hand…

White cuffs were folded back, highlighting the active muscles in his forearms as he used just the tips of his fingers to graze the underside of his erection, giving it only the lightest of touches.  It was enough to keep him stimulated but definitely couldn’t be construed as “jacking off” as he watched her with heated eyes. 

Jon could be simultaneously dictatorial and obedient in the bedroom.

That intrigued her.

Greatly.

“Baayy-beee, I waaant yoouuu…” 

Lord, did she want him.  She imagined that it was his fingers pushing at the cups of her new lacy black bra to permit swollen nipples their freedom.  Both aching, rosy tips rolled between her fingertips as she breathily dispensed, “Like the roo-ses waaant the raaain.”

“Motherfucker, Dixie,” he rasped, and his fingers curled for a stronger touch.  “Strip, don’t play.”

One side of her mouth kicked up in a sultry smile and she was delighted with his reaction.  Cassidy blew him a playful kiss and moved to grasp the waistband of her Levi’s. 

The button was leisurely released with a breathy, “You knooow I neeeed yooo-oo-uuu…” 

The zipper rasped as slowly and deliberately as the lines fell from her lips, and her hips swayed to the beat of the silent music.

“… like a po-et neeeeds the paain.”

He jerked himself harder than she would’ve ever dared and moaned with the action.  It was so blatantly carnal that she squeezed her thighs together with a hitching breath.  The black panties that had been left behind after shimmying out of her Levi’s were now soaked.

Jon thought he might die but, if he had to go, there was no better way than a smoking hot woman stripping while she ravished him with her voice.  Just hearing her interpretation of the song had wound him up last night, but to see her perform it…?

Holy hell.

Disheveled copper hair flowed wildly, concealing one of her eyes, but Jon could still plainly make out her seductive intent from the other one.  The lips that pouted vocal erotica should be classified as a deadly weapon, and the delicately pale curves that were underscored by inky black lace represented the ultimate in femininity.

“And I wooould giive aa-ny-thinng. My blooood.  My worrrld.  My liife.”

He barely registered the slight change of lyric that omitted ‘love’.  He was too intent upon the woman who snaked hands up her back as she unhurriedly glided toward him. 

“If you were in these aaarms to-niight.”

The clasp on her bra released and raspberry nipples were no longer the only part of her bust line that was exposed to his lecherous scrutiny.  When the scrap of black lace was tossed aside, the full, natural curves of her breast were fully disrobed and their heaviness quivered invitingly.  He wanted to mark them, too, in one raunchy way or another.

“I'd hooo-old ya…”  Fingertips glided into the dainty black panties and pushed to bare her right hip. 

“I'd nee-eed ya…”  The fingers of the left hand executed the same maneuver to divulge the other hip.

“I'd get.  Dowwn.  Onn.  Myy. Knees for yoo-uu.”  Using the cadence of the melody as a guide, both hands took turns in nudging the filmy undergarment toward her ankles and the floor.

When she stepped free, Jon rubbed himself harder, swiping a thumb over the tip to remove moisture that was starting to form.  Cassidy mirrored his move in the feminine form with a stroke of her middle finger along her slit before sidling up beside him.

“And make ev-ry-thing al-riight, if you were inn these aa-arms.”

The color in her cheeks was high and he knew it was no longer from alcohol but from arousal, and he would bet any amount of money that his own cheeks bore the same flush of anticipation.  Jon’s breath was shallow when she climbed up to straddle his thighs but, when she gently put his hand aside so that she could guide his cock where they both wanted it to be, he softly merged his vocals with hers. 

“I’d loo-ove you…” 

Her eyes locked onto his with surprise when he used the written lyric instead of following her lead of replacing ‘love’ with ‘hold’, but he didn’t look away.  Steady fingers simply curved over her hips to compel her down so that he was fully immersed in her heat when they both promised, “I’d plee-ase youu…”

A growl slipped from deep within as he appreciated the slick muscles that hugged him in welcome, and Cassidy planted one flat palm against his chest so she could roll her hips forward and hug him tighter.  Her other hand snuck into its usual diddling position while toned thighs contracted to assist him in lifting her free so that he could impale her again.  

And again.

She moaned softly, missing the next line, but he picked it up while finding a rhythm that felt good.

“I’d tell you that I'd nevv-er leeeave yoouu.”

Cassidy fell forward, pillowing her chest against his when she took his mouth to steal the rest of the chorus.  Her lips were frenzied against his.  She nuzzled in to find his tongue, beckoning it to come out and play then sucking gently when he slid behind her teeth.  In and out he pushed his tongue, mimicking the slide of his cock in her pussy – his sanity. 

His grip got a little too hard.  He bounced her just a bit too fiercely.  He nibbled her lip more harshly than he ought.  He ground into her with a vengeance that disclosed just how fervently she was tending to her clit.  He could feel her fingertips brushing against his cock and he groaned into her mouth.

Jon wanted to swallow her whole.  Wanted to flood her with the release that was building.  Wanted to drown in it with her.  Wanted to leave his cock submerged in her for days. 

With a sharp gasp, she tore her mouth free and her body stiffened.  She was coming.  That painful whimper was her pleasure.  That strangled cry was satisfaction.  His satisfaction as the explosion pulsed from him in a physically demanding Morse code that completely, wholly, perfectly drained him.

She lay bonelessly atop him, equally drained, except for the inner muscles that she clenched to appease his still twitching erection.  Their combined ragged breathing was the only noise in the room for long moments as he absorbed the innate joy that she naturally exuded.  It was the only noise until Jon turned to press a lazy kiss against her forehead and very, very softly finish the chorus.

“I’d hold you tilll the ennnd of tiiime… if you were in these aaarrms toniiight.”

He could feel her cheek contract into a smile.  “You might oughta consider recordin’ that.  You sing it pretty good.”

Jesus, he felt good.  So good, in fact, that his often-reserved tongue relaxed a little. 

“Your translation of that song is as sexy and amazing as you are,” he praised while petting the soft, coppery strands that blanketed her shoulders.  “But there’s an undeniable appeal to your voice no matter what the song.  It has the qualities that everyone wants to hear – tone, emotion, pitch – all combined in a way that is uniquely pleasing.  Honest to God, if it’s what you want, you can be a superstar.  No bullshit.”

Using her forearm, she pushed herself up just far enough to comfortably study his face.  “But not with your band.”

He couldn’t bring her into Bon Jovi. 

From a selfish perspective, the only time he and Cassidy sounded really, really good together was when a sexually charged undercurrent flowed between them.  That had been proven by the last studio session.  If they buried the undercurrent onstage, it would be an average performance that the public would merely tolerate.  If they let their sexual tension exist in its natural state, the public would devour the performance but also readily deduce his feelings for her.  He couldn’t allow that to happen.

Besides that, Cassidy was capable of more than a career as a backing vocalist.  She was beautiful, could sing and had the aptitude to be a real musician.  Hell, she’d already mastered three other diverse careers.  There was no doubt she could accomplish this, too, and she deserved the chance.

“No, baby,” he confirmed regretfully.  “Not with my band.” 

She laid her head back down on his shoulder.  “Prob’ly for the best, anyway.  You and David would be fightin’ over me, the band would break up…  It would just be ugly.”

Jon chuckled and hugged her close. 

“You can bet your perfect ass I’d win that fight.”