TWENTY-TWO

Jamie curled her fingers into her palm. She wanted to snatch her guitar back from him, but knew that would be rude. It was hers dammit, there was no need to be proprietary. He was going to give it back. Nothing had felt as comfortable in her hands as that guitar since she'd snuck into Richie's room and stolen his Kramer.

Jon's eyes were downcast as he picked out the familiar chords of Wanted from the Sunburst. It sounded sad, and a little lonely and her reaction was to scrub her suddenly itching palm across her hip. Jon looked up at her, heat hit her like an amp on full blast before his eyes cleared and that insolent half grin returned. Just what had he been up to with Steph all day? His skin was tan, perhaps even a little red around the edges. His hair kinked around his shoulders even more than usual and there was an easiness to his shoulders that had been missing earlier. "Just what did you do today?"

He relaxed back in the chair, scrunching down until the guitar covered half of his chest. The lack of posture kicked his simple white button forward showing off his distracting chest that had her fingers itching again. He was wearing his Italian horn today and the white gleamed against the darkening tones of his beachy skin. He smelled like coco butter and salt and she wanted to get her lips on his neck. Male sweat and salt spray would taste good with a little tequila right about now.

Hooded eyes met hers and her mouth went utterly dry. A little relaxation was good for the soul evidently. "Steph and I headed to the beach since you two ditched us."

She shrugged. "Like you'd want to hang out in a guitar shop."

Jon ran a possessive hand across the body of her guitar and she fought the urge to squirm. Son of a bitch, she needed to find a guy and hammer out some of this agression tonight before she killed someone. She lifted the guitar off of him and her nipples instantly hardened at the obvious hard on he was sporting. He simply raised an eyebrow, his eyes raking over her too tight t-shirt and flipped his shirt tales over the lime green bulge. Yep, time to go. "I'm going to go play with my new baby."

Richie laughed, his brown eyes full of a sweet pleasure that made her feel even more awful for the insta-lust that Jon brought out in her. Steph was sitting next to Richie, her eyes fixated on his fingers as he played. Just as well, she wasn't sure she could take an inquisition from Steph right now anyway. She needed a cool shower and a man. The game she'd been playing with Jon just wasn't going to cut it right now. The want was at an irrational level right now and she'd make a mistake. Richie and Steph's laughter at her back convinced her of that even more.

She headed down the hall at a fast clip, her long legs eating up the ugly carpeting, passing armies of trays at doors and the sentry newspapers that hadn't been picked up earlier that morning. The furious banging as she got to her own door and Ashley's screams of porny delight pushed her a step away from screaming in retribution. "Son of a bitch!" She slapped the palm of her hand on the door. She'd just been in there to change less than an hour ago for God's sake.

Warm fingers on her wrist had her whirling and Jon's sand and sea scent backed her into the door. The strings on the fret dug into her palm as she closed her eyes. "Not now," she moaned. She'd had such a good day with her brother--enough to feel guilty at lusting after his best friend. She wanted him so bad her hair hurt.

Lips found hers, and she tasted all that salt and warmth and she fell on him like someone starving. Her guitar thunked along his back, driving him closer. As much as she wanted Jon, that guitar was not going to hit the floor. His knee came between hers, his hand drove under her shirt a clever thumb scraped over her nipple as his teeth bit into her lower lip. "Now," he said against her mouth. "I can't wait anymore. I'm going out of my friggin' mind. Maybe if I get inside you I can think again." He pressed his forehead to hers. "I was out all day, trying not to think about you, trying to convince myself that this wasn't a good idea." His teeth scraped down her neck then back to her mouth and his taste was better than any drug, any alcohol that the market could put out. "I told myself that I was going to come back and stop this insanity." His mouth was hard on hers, angry and hot with wanting her.

Suddenly he stepped back, his fingertips in the belt loop of her denim cutoffs, dragging her forward. His eyes were wild and reckless and there was no mistaking what he was asking her. Her feet made her decision for her, as if knowing that there wasn’t any way her brain could follow up with a no.

Grabbing her hand he ran down the hallway. She heard a door open and adrenaline took over, she pushed him into a room marked linens and her mouth was on his before the door closed. Familiar voices, Doc and his assistant, were having a heated conversation, but she couldn’t hear what it was about over the roaring in her ears. His tongue was a little too good at its job, leaving her breathless and just a little drunk on his taste.

The rasp of her zipper and Jon’s callous tipped fingers slipping along her slick lips cut off any thoughts of saying no. His whispered, “fuck,” and then he was deep inside her. Two fingers stretching her, curling up along the swollen folds and tissues of her pussy felt so good the moan came out before she could stop herself.

“God, I want to hear you scream my name, but not right now—not right here.” He said against her neck and up to her ear as he familiarized himself with her body in the dark. “I know you love that guitar, but put it the fuck down,” he breathed.

She laughed and felt around, finding a stack of sheets that would keep it safe. She tucked it on top and wrapped her arms around his neck, hooking her knee on his thigh to give him better access. “I knew I’d end up fucking you in a closet, Slick.”

He laughed against her mouth, turning his hand so his thumb found her clit. “I’d fuck you in the center of a room full of people at this point.”

“You kinky, kinky boy. I figured you for the watching type, not the exhibitionist.”

He stopped, his mouth rough on hers, but his fingers completely still. “I’d watch you do anything but fuck another man.” He bit hard on her lower lip. “That day I saw you with the guy in the shower I almost took his head and smashed it into the tile.”

“I just pretended he was you. I wanted it to be you. He barely got me off.” Incensed with the edge of orgasm, she wanted to slap a censor on her mouth but it just wouldn’t shut up. “Every guy I fuck, I want it to be you.” She was giving him too much control, too much info, but the dark made the truth so much easier.

He groaned, jamming his fingers harder inside her. “James.”

She dragged her hands through his hair as he pushed her against the wall. “If you think your fingers are going to be enough this time, you are on serious drugs.” She said into his ear, scraping her teeth around the shell until she found his lobe. A hoop there clicked along her teeth and she flicked around it. “If you don’t fuck me this time, I’ll just end up raping you in some darkened hallways when you least expect it.”

He laughed, the edges dark and just a little wild. “I’m going to bury myself inside you so many times that all you’ll remember is my dick.”

She laughed. “Arrogant ass,” she sassed, but in the back of her mind she was afraid that he was far too perceptive. Would she be able to stop with just one time? Wouldn’t she want him more?

The only thing that would stop the madness was if he sucked. But if his hands were any indication and that clever freaking tongue, she was going to lose her ever loving mind as soon as he got inside her.

No, it was just sex.

This was just supposed to get him out of her system. That was all it was supposed to be. She held onto him, wrapping her other arm around his neck. “Inside me.” She had to just get it over with.Then she would be better. Then she could think and have fun again.

“No,” he said against her neck, then her mouth.

She buried her face into his neck. He couldn’t say no now. She licked up his neck, finding that salt and sweat she’d wanted earlier. She nipped at his clavicle. “Oh yes.”

“Not until you’re insane.”

How much more insane did she need to be? She was already ready to commit murder for fuck’s sake. She dug at his bathing suit trunks finding him hard and ready. Her thumbnail traced the slit at the top of his head, finding that delicious drop of want right there. God, she wanted to taste it. She swiped it over his head and under along where he was most sensitive. He jerked against her, pushing into her hand.

“Oh Christ, James.”

Her body hummed at his nickname for her. She cupped his sack, rolling them slowly then pulling along the entire length of him. Scalding hot, so swollen with need. She knew he’d be a dark and angry red around his head. Knew that when he bumped against her hood that he’d be dying just as much as she was to get inside.

A voice came down the hall, but she couldn’t focus. All she could think about was getting him inside. Feeling him inside her—filling her up until all this messy need went away.

“Shit!”

Jon’s hiss and his hand pushing her away was not what she was looking for. “No,” she muttered and tried to get back inside his trunks.

“God, James.” He clasped her hands together. “Stop.”

“If you think I’m stopping you--” She said and tried to free herself. Then she heard, “Housekeeping!” in a faint Spanish lilt.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She moaned. “Not again. You'll cover for me if I kill her right?”

He didn't answer her, instead he just pushed the door open a crack and she stomped her foot. She wasn’t prone to tantrums but it was going to happen in three seconds. He peeked out. “Grab your guitar.”

“How do you know they’re going to come in here?”

“I don’t know what goes on in your room, but I tend to get new towels and sheets most of the time.”

“Fuck!” She whispered hoarsely.

He pushed open the door a little more. “Okay, c’mon before she finishes that room.” He clasped her hand again, and headed down the hallway at a run. He groaned.

“What?” She looked around, waiting to see Richie standing there or something. Because that was the kind of luck she had--shit luck.

“Running with a hard on is not cool.”

And just like that, lust stopped sucking at her brain like a damn alien. She laughed, following behind him.

“Sure you laugh, but if you had this digging into your hip while you ran, you would not be happy.”

She reached around him, molding the bathing suit around his erection, nipping at his shoulder. “This was digging into my hip just a second ago. And then when you dragged my leg up, it was my thigh. So close to my pussy.”

“Jesus,” he said ripely and dragged her around, bouncing her against the wall as they rounded the corner to the stair access. He pressed his cock into the V of her legs, sliding his tongue as deep as she could take it. “Roof.”

Her fingers tangled in his hair as she shifted her hips to get him closer. “Right.” She said and tried to get her hands into his shorts again.

“No—Roof.”

She ripped her mouth away, his words making no sense. “What?”

“Roof. I’ll fuck you under the last of the sunshine.”

He whirled her around to the door and she managed to get her hand behind her as he focused on finding every corner of her damn tonsils. She slanted her mouth against his, sucking his tongue until he finally gentled.

“God, you make me nuts.”

“You?” She opened the door and turned, her guitar in her arms and his hand in hers as she climbed the stairs. He had to be kidding her. She was so wound, she couldn’t even think about thinking.

She popped the door on the roof, and jerked to a stop when Jon hauled her back so he could prop a cinder block against the door. “I want to get inside you, but if anyone else has to rescue us….”

She nodded, resting her guitar against the corner nook out of the last blast of sun. Before she could even turn around, he dragged her back, his dick lodged between her cheeks, his arm banded across her belly, his hand into her shirt already. He pushed her hair away and found her neck, his tongue trailing behind her ear until he could nuzzle into her hair.

He plucked one nipple, then the other and all the while he followed her hip rolls. "Every day, every endless day I think about getting inside you."

She closed her eyes, sunshine warmed her from the front and he took care of the back. She didn't need any more stimulation, she just needed him inside her. Anything to end this ache. Turning in his arms, she reached into his shorts and found him just as hard as before. He pulled at her shorts, frustration and need running parallel as she was backed into the wall. She didn't want to let him go, but getting all the boundaries out of the way was worth the three seconds that he wasn't in her hand. Brick pulled at her hair and the smoother cement of the wall dug into her back and then the head of his cock was finally pushing against her.

"God, yes," she hissed even as he stopped. "What? Don't stop..." she gripped his hips and curled her leg around his smooth ass. "Inside me," she panted.

"I--" his blue eyes blazed, his hair flew around his face in the breeze from the rooftop.

"I'm on the pill," she said suddenly understanding. "Now!"

"Thank God," he said and plunged inside her.

She sighed in relief as all that empty space inside widened and accepted him. He lifted her, tipping her up for a deeper thrust. His eyes locked on hers for a long moment as they finally connected. It was more than she expected. Overwhelmed and suddenly scared, she pushed at his shoulder, breaking the emotional connection. It was just lust. It wasn't allowed to be more. He went for her neck and she held on as he shifted her higher, sucking her nipple through her shirt as he undulated against her.

Closing her eyes, she couldn't escape her body's visceral reaction. Pleasure overcame the fear and she let go, taking each stroke and hip thrust. Her thigh muscles screaming to hold on just another minute. Wrapping her arms around his neck all that hair stuck to the sheen of sweat she wore and still it wasn't enough. She fisted her fingers at the back of his head and fused their mouths together. Teeth clicked and she felt the scorching metal flavor of blood in her mouth as the strokes came faster.

Locked in a vice of pleasure, sweat, and madness she couldn't pry apart one orgasm from another. He ripped his mouth from hers and buried it in her hair. His breathing was as hoarse as a scream as he jerked against her. Sometime later he'd turned them around the stone was missing from her back. Breathing was harder than it should have been and in the end, the white noise became her name as they both slid down the wall in a heap of shuddering arms and legs.

Her cheek rested on his shoulder and she couldn't quite bear to have him slip out of her body yet. Slick with his release and hers, she held onto him by the sheer force of will. Slowly she became aware of the fading sun, the sweat that flooded between their bodies, and Jon's fingertips at the base of her spine. Slow circles as both of them calmed. The closeness after the electrical storm of their passion felt too good. It wasn't supposed to be anything other than a release.

She inched back and let him go, unable to look at him.

"James."

She cupped his face and looked anywhere but into his eyes. She kissed him, but this time it was all technique. Enough to let him know it was good and the smile she pasted on froze when she finally looked into his all too knowing gaze. She looked around for her shorts and stood, groaning as her muscles locked. Lime green shorts were bunched at his feet, and his shirt was now completely open. Dark hair and tanned skin made the shirt stand out even more. Just a block of lighter skin where his tanline ended and his semi erection lay.

She turned away from him. She wanted to crawl back on his lap and try a nice leisurely ride. And that's not what they were about. This was just to scratch an itch, just like any other man. She could hear him getting up behind her, a similar groan of protest from the frenzied sex. In the moment you just didn't care what kind of muscles you were using.

Stepping into her cutoffs she hopped until they were over her hips. He said her name again, but she couldn't look at him. He grabbed her shoulders and dragged her back to him, his chin on her shoulder, his mouth close to her ear. "I want it to be simple too," he said simply and walked around her to the door of the roof. "C'mon, let's get out of here before someone figures out where we are."

She grabbed her guitar on the way out, hugging it to herself and wished it was him.

Damn him.