43 - The Party's Over

Tony was busy directing some of his people, trying to expedite the post show tear down when Scotty, a member of the security team, found him under the stage.

"Tony?"

He lifted his head from the laptop he was stowing and smiled.   Just as he’d requested, Scotty had Lilah at his side, acting as her post-concert escort back stage.

"Thanks," he dismissed the man cordially before greeting Lilah. "Hey, Bluegrass. How'd you like the show?"

He had gone back to the hotel after sound check for a few minutes, but Lilah hadn’t been in their room. Tony hadn't worried too much about it, since she’d promised to be in the diamond circle before eight o'clock.  Just prior to the intro video, he spotted her on Richie's side and settled in to do his job.

After firing off a text that said he was sending somebody to get her afterward, that is.

"Hey," she returned, coming to stand before him, her eyes twinkling merrily.  Tony recognized post-concert buzz when he saw it. "The European set lists are always phenomenal.  Dry County isn't one of my favorites, but Richie killed it."

"What?" he scolded with a furrowed brow, zipping the laptop case. "That's sacrilege coming from a supposed Richie girl."

Her dainty nose wrinkled and she winced lightly. "I know, I know.  Don't tell him, okay?"

"Come to the after party with me and my lips are sealed." He leaned around her and called out, "Rew! All my shit's ready!"

"After party?"  Lilah's frown was fleeting. "You don't usually do those. Or at least you didn't durin’ the first half of this leg, when I was tryin’ to corner you."

"That's because you were trying to corner me," he admitted with a teasing wink as he linked their fingers together and guided her through the maze of storage crates and scaffolding. "I usually keep them few and far between as much as possible, but there are some people who wanna meet you."

She skidded to a halt, arm stretching out straight in front of her as he kept walking.

"Huh?"

"You heard me." Grinning, he tugged, trying to propel her back into motion, but her sparkly sandals were stuck firm to the ground.

"WHO wants to meet me?"

His grin was reinforced with a chuckle at her suspiciously slitted eyes.  "The rest of the band. Well, Tico. And Dave."

With a deep, huffing sigh, she only dragged her feet a little bit when she reclaimed her place at this side.  As they skirted around the edges of the lingering concert goers, she wryly observed, "Lord have mercy, that can't be good."

"Why's that?"

One slim shoulder lifted, ruffling the hair she had left loose this evening.  "People don't want to meet me, Jersey, unless they want to confront me about something. At least in my most recent experiences."

"Oh yeah?" he quizzed as they slid into the side entrance of the hotel.  This had definitely been one of the most convenient venue locations they’d done.  No transportation required, and only a five minute walk back to the room.  "Did Dottie confront you? I haven't had a chance to ask how lunch went."

She fashioned her mouth into a sheepish smirk. "Lunch was fine.  I like her, and no, she didn't confront me."

"Neither will Dave and Tico. Dave may annoy the shit out of you but that’s about it."

Pausing at the entrance to the lobby, Lilah turned to him.  “Where is this party?  Are you going upstairs to change or anything?”

“Nah, I’m not staying long.  I’ve got better things to do.”  He winked, squeezing her hand as he guided her toward the bar they’d been in last night.  “This place is supposed to have a back room or something.”

It did, indeed, have a back room that was already well-populated with men and women whose paycheck was signed by Jon Bon Jovi.  Nothing like the couple of after parties Lilah had been to, that were fan-based.

“Holy cow.”

“What’s the matter?” he asked, looking down at her as she settled her denimed derriere on a bar stool.  Tony climbed on the adjacent stool, sitting with his knees wide so that she was more or less sitting between them.   His single finger in the air was acknowledged by the bartender with a nod.

“There’s a lot of Jovi employees here.  I’m feelin’ a little out of my comfort zone.”

“They’re just people.”

Both gave in their orders when the bartender materialized in front of them – Jack and Coke for him, and a Mai Tai for her.

“Maybe I should rephrase.  There’s a lot of people here.  I’m not very good in a social crowd.”

“Relax.  They don’t bite.”

“I see you’ve forgotten our whole retarded hyena conversation from Dublin,” she sighed, chewing on the corner of her mouth while warily scouring the room.  Her knee bounced lightly up and down and she lifted a hand to worry the gold hoop in her earlobe.

Slightly thrown off-kilter, Tony merely watched her for a moment.  The woman seated beside him was familiar, but a memory.  He’d gotten so used to ‘his’ Lilah that Tony had almost completely erased how she’d been initially.  The insecure, slightly awkward and nervous woman from that very first night in Dublin was alive and well, anxiously awaiting her drink.

Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it – an obnoxious voice interrupted before Tony got the opportunity to lean forward and kiss her senseless to pull her out of it.

“Is this her?” David practically bellowed, a long-necked bottle in his hand.  “This is the woman who’s got ants in His Royal Highness’s pants?”

“Ignore him,” Tico growled, joining the little group.  Juggling his bottled water from one hand to the other, he extended the free one with a polite smile.  “Hi, I’m Tico.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Lilah became immediately enamored with the man who was largely hidden by his massive drum kit every night.  His grip was firm and sure, and his eyes went soft at seeing the scars on the back of her hand. 

Seeking to spare him the embarrassment, she smiled and reciprocated his greeting.  “I’m Lilah, and the pleasure is all mine.  I run an anger management class for cats,” she joked nodding at the marred flesh.  “Some days it doesn’t go so well.”

The deep, bass chuckle rattled in her ears, and Tico dipped his chin, amused and acknowledging her attempt at levity.  David, however…

“What the hell?  You’re kidding, right?  They don’t really do that shit in whatever backwoods town you’re from.  Do they?”

“And this dumbass is David,” Tony introduced, clapping the scowling blonde man on the shoulder with a laugh.  “That’s the polite Southern way of saying her scars are none of your damn business.”

“Oh.”  Lilah watched the disappointment streak across his face.  Luckily, most of the unsightly marks were covered with her hair and shirt tonight, or he would be even more disappointed.  Gamely, he stuck out his hand and, when she took it, he lowered his head to touch his lips to her knuckles.

Surprised, Lilah came close to snatching her hand away as the blood rushed into her cheeks, but at the last minute, she forced herself to hold still until he released her.  Tony, however, didn’t bother restraining himself.  He tapped David once in the back of the head with his open palm, setting the blonde curls to bouncing.

“She’s with me.”

“What?”  David exclaimed indignantly, sneaking a hand out to flick Tony’s ear.  “I didn’t use tongue.”

I could never be enamored with David.  He might be endearin’ though. 

“Excuse the children,” Tico’s gravelly apology was echoed in his face.  “They haven’t had a play date for a while, so they’re rowdy.  Where are you from Ms. Lilah?”

“You mean what back woods town am I from?” she asked wryly, glancing at an unremorseful David and sipping her Mai Tai.  Tony was already halfway into his drink and she thought he’d just ordered another.  “That would be Lexington, Kentucky.”

“Horse farm heiress?”

She was almost insulted by David’s second wisecrack, but his eyes were quite somber.  The question wasn’t another jibe at her Southern-ness, but a legitimate question, it appeared.

“No, Mr. Bryan, I don’t have such lofty roots.  At the risk of being thrown out of my home state, I’m not even much of a horse fan.  I’ve recently discovered that I prefer the back of a motorcycle to that of a thoroughbred.”

The enigmatic smile that curled around the rim of Tony’s glass filled her with warm fuzzies.  As much as it had terrified her in the beginning, that day in Dublin would forever be etched into her memory, and she could only hope that she might get the opportunity to repeat the experience someday.

With him, you mean.  Repeat the experience with Tony.

That was exactly what she meant. 

Lilah spent another few minutes answering curious questions from the pair before conversation slipped into more neutral topics such as the show, Bucharest, and even Europe in general.  She found both men to be quite nice, in totally different ways.  David rarely uttered a word that wasn’t included in some kind of smart-aleck observation or response, while Tico was quiet and thoughtful with his conversation. 

Overall, it wasn’t nearly as traumatic as she had feared. 

Just before the mismatched pair of friends excused themselves, Tico said quietly to Tony.  “Fate has been kind to you, my friend.”

He didn’t confirm or deny that, Lilah noted as she listened curiously, thinking that was an odd thing for the older man to say.  Tony’s mouth tightened a bit inside the frame of his goatee and he offered the barest of nods to the drummer.   

“What did that mean?” she asked when David and Tico had slipped into the crowd.  “Why was he talking about Fate?”

“I mentioned to him and Richie that you thought Fate brought you here.”

“Oh.”

Her stomach fluttered a bit, and Lilah was unsure how to feel about that as she intently stirred the dregs of her Mai Tai with the stem of its umbrella.  Had he been making fun of her to the men?

“Hey.”  A light squeeze on her knee commanded her attention, and she turned her head to find clear blue eyes regarding her.  “That’s all I said.  Nothing else.”

She stared deep into those eyes, trying to see if there was something there for her to be afraid of.  Some sign that he thought she was one big redneck joke.  Had she just convinced herself, out of self-defense, that he thought that her come-to-Jesus moment was perfectly normal?  Was he really counting the minutes and the drinks until he could escape?

Speaking of drinks, the bartender brought Tony’s third while she was lost in the pools of blue behind the lenses of his spectacles.  Without looking away, Lilah hooked her fingers around the glass before he could.  Tipping her head the tiniest bit to one side, she asked, “Do you need to get drunk to stand the thought of goin’ upstairs with me, Jersey?”

He turned his at a matching angle and lifted a scolding eyebrow.  “My thought has been of standing you in that corner over there and nailing you to the wall.” 

When she flushed pink at the bawdy admission and averted her gaze, he pulled her chin back around with one gentle finger, softly divulging, “I like sex with you.  Quite a bit, actually.  I’ve thought about that orange belly dancing thing all day, itching to fuck you.” 

Lilah wanted that.  Not the belly dancing outfit, but the other.  It had been far too many hours since she’d gotten to touch him.  To lose herself in the inherent masculinity that defined Tony Bongiovi.  The other men she’d been with?  They were nothing but boys by comparison.

He swiped the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip, enjoying the way her eyes dilated when he scraped the tender fullness.  “And I think you’re the one who needs to get drunk.  Lilah without insecurities is a serious turn-on.”

“Okay.”  With the quiet and docile agreement, she lifted his Jack and Coke to her lips for an unladylike gulp.  He laughed out loud when the glass hit the counter with a ‘thud’ and her nose scrunched up with utter disgust.   Shuddering, she gasped, “It takes better on you.”

“I changed my mind.  That’s a serious turn-on.”  He pushed away from the bar, holding out his hand for hers.  “My itch just got worse.  Let’s go, Bluegrass.”

I deeply regret having to inform you that this story is taking a BRIEF hiatus.  Brief, as in one week.  My life is crazy right now and I'm writing just to make deadline rather than crafting a story worthy of your loyalty.  That's not fair to you, me, Tony OR Lilah.  I'm not taking a break from writing, I need just a bit of time to get caught back up and we'll be back to twice a week again, I promise!!  

I'm sorry.  I hate (hate, hate, HATE!) doing this, but I can only hope you understand and realize you're going to reap the benefits. 

♥blush  :(

Next posting:  Sunday, February 3.

42 - Give and Take

Lilah couldn’t help the wistful smile when she heard her best friend’s lilting “Hello?”  There were a lot of exciting things going on in her life, and she missed sharing them with the woman who had been there every step of the way for the last ten years. 

“Hi, Jo.” 

“Nice to know you remember my number.”

Sighing, Lilah fell back onto the bed with a bounce and let her eyelids drift shut, pulling out her mental encyclopedia of social graces so that she wouldn’t buy into the argumentative tone.  That encyclopedia didn’t get used often – social graces weren’t exactly Lilah’s strong suit – but sometimes you had to do the right thing and play nice, whether you wanted to or not. 

Her feelin’s are still hurt.  Go the extra mile and suck it up. 

“Of course I remember it.  How are you, sweetie?”

“I’m okay, how are you?”

Her extra effort had paid off.  Jo had been pacified into, if not being genuinely nice, at least doing the polite game tonight.  That fake feeling of insincerity made Lilah uncomfortable, but it was preferable to cattiness and arguing.  She would take the polite game over that any day.

“I’m good.  Really good.”

“Well…  good.  I’m glad to hear that.”  The silence stretched out, second by second, as Lilah waited for Joanna to make the next polite step and ask about her trip.  She didn’t follow the script, though. “I miss you.”

That softly spoken admission wasn’t polite banter.  It was the first heartfelt sentiment she’d garnered from her friend since announcing this trip – at least the first non-angry one, and a weight lifted from Lilah’s heart.  Maybe they were moving on?

“Aww, Jo…  I miss you, too.  It’s just another coupla weeks and I’ll be home.”

“Yes, but will things still be the same?  Will you still be there for me when I need you?”

This sigh managed to get smothered.  Lilah didn’t have an answer for that.  At this point, she had no reason to believe anything was going to change, but there was a slight possibility that things might be end up being different.  Very different.

“I don’t know about things being the same, but I’m always gonna be no more than a phone call away.”

The silence stretched again, and she knew that wasn’t what her friend had been hoping to hear.  Was the call going to escalate into an argument?  Or slide into a depressive conversation?  It was neither. 

“So you’re in Bucharest now.  What’s it like?”

Back to polite trip chat – with no mention of Tony.  She must not want to hear about him  That’s okay, I guess. 

But Lilah’s feelings were a little hurt.  She wanted to share her lunch with Dorothea, how icky Jon was being, and gush a little over Tony’s sweetness.  She wanted to squeal and giggle and laugh with her friend, to have her share in the excitement, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen. 

So she resigned herself back to the polite game.

“It’s okay. I haven’t seen much besides the hotel.”

They yakked for a bit longer and Lilah reminded Jo of her itinerary for the next couple of days, promising to talk again soon.  Disconnecting the call, she rested the phone on her chest with one hand and closed her eyes again, draping the opposite arm over her forehead.

It was the story of her life.  Lilah always felt like she was doing something wrong, particularly where Joanna was concerned. 

That’s because you’re acting selfish by being here.

Joanna’s husband worked nights, and Lilah would, more often than not, stay over at her house to keep her company and in case she needed anything.  They would watch television, have dinner, maybe go to the mall if Jo was feeling energetic.  Now Jo was stuck home by herself every night while Lilah was away.

But you are here, so be here and enjoy it.  Don’t waste it, Lilah.  Be present in the moment. There’s plenty of time to feel guilty and do penance later.

The vibration against her chest was startling and she squeaked with surprise.  “Jeez…” she breathed, when she finally registered what it was.  Lifting her hand, she saw that the screen was lit with the name ‘Anthony’.

“Hey, Jersey,” Lilah greeted him through her happy grin.  She would let the unpleasantness with Joanna recede to the back of her mind for the time being.

“It’s not Tony, it’s Jon.”

Trading one bout of unpleasantness for another, was her initial thought before stopping to consider why Jon would be calling her from Tony’s phone instead of Tony.  Then a glimmer of fear streaked through her.

“Where is he?  Is he okay?”

Jon mentally gave the Kentucky girl half a point for making her first spoken thought about Tony’s welfare.  Glancing at his glowering brother with tattooed arms crossed bouncer-style,  Jon pulled a slight frown of disgust before responding tightly, “He’s fine.”

As though he knew what had been asked, Tony gave him a smug grin, as though to say, “Take that, dumbass.”

Jesus, is there the slightest chance I’m wrong about this chick?

Receiving the assurance she’d wanted, or would have him believe she wanted, her voice cooled considerably.  “Then to what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Bongiovi?”

She should be sucking up to you instead of being so aloof if she wants something.  Shouldn’t she?

“I’m inviting you back stage before the show.”  He muffled his grunt when Dorothea jabbed him in the ribs with her finger as she mouthed instructions.  In compliance with his lovely wife’s orders, Jon less- than-graciously tacked on, “And during the show, if ya want.”

Lilah Bennett didn’t jump at the opportunity like a celebrity-starved groupie, simpering her thanks as he’d half-expected. Did that mean she was better at playing the game than most, or that she really had to think about it?

Annoyed at the silence emanating from the phone and succumbing to his innate impatience, he prompted, “Hello?”

“Yes, sir, I’m still here,” came the quiet Southern twang that sounded nearly as foreign to his New England ears as Mandarin Chinese.  “I’m gonna assume you’re not doin’ this voluntarily.  Were you coerced into makin’ this call?”

That astuteness pulled him back from where he’d begun to waver on the Lilah Bennett fence.  She was smart.  Smart enough to play a nice guy for what she wanted, without a doubt.  

“What difference does it make?”

Two pairs of brown eyes and one blue all narrowed at the belligerence he hadn’t taken the time to filter out of his answer.

“I will take that as a yes, and politely decline your kind invitation.  You have your out Mr. Bongiovi.  Could you please tell Tony that I’ve got a bit of a headache and that I’ll meet him at the hotel after the show?” 

Shit. 

This wasn’t going to fly.  He didn’t care about Richie or Tony.  Passing along Lilah’s message would be enough to appease them, but Dorothea?  Jon had to sleep with her tonight and she wasn’t going to be so easily swayed.

“Lilah.”  He had to say something.  He hated that he was going to have to reinforce the invitation he hadn’t wanted to extend in the first place, but he was never going to hear the end of it if he didn’t.

Think, Jon, think.

He had it.  Enough to entice her to the venue and, at the same time, prove that he was right all along.  An apology would never have to cross his lips, and they could get this tour back to what passed for normal.

“I understand your son has a band?”

Jon stuck a finger in his open ear to block out Tony’s cursing and orders not to go there.  He also stood and took his wife’s glancing blow against his shoulder like a man and didn’t flinch at the squinted glare she tried to kill him with.

“Yes,” was the hesitant reply.  “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Do you have any of his work?  Bring it with you, and I’ll give it a listen.  Maybe I can help him out.”

His brother folded his arms, looking disgustedly unconcerned, while Richie inspected his manicure with a sad shake of his head. 

However, Jon’s smugness grew with each passing second that she didn’t reply.  She was going to accept and Tony was going to have to accept, too – that she wasn’t as sweet as she was trying to pretend.

“I know that it’s all about contacts in the music, Mr. Bongiovi, and I’m sure my son will die a thousand deaths if he ever finds out I’m doin’ this, but I’ll have to politely decline that kind invitation as well.”

Well, hell.

“Why?”

She laughed softly.  “There are a number of reasons.  Would you like a list?”

The natives in his dressing room were getting restless, wanting to know what she’d said, but Jon shushed them all with a wave of his hand.

“As a matter of fact, I would.”

“Okay.  First, and foremost, I’m not the type of woman to take advantage my friendship with Tony that way.  Secondly, you don’t like me, and I can’t imagine why you would even offer.  Third, my son and his friends are learnin’ their lessons along the way and take great pride in the fact that they’ve established their own contacts so far.  It will mean far more to them in the long run.”

“So you’re going to deny him the best shot he’ll ever have at getting a successful industry professional to hear his stuff?” 

Did this woman even like her kid?  Nobody passed on the kind of opportunity she was being offered.  Fledgling bands prayed for this kinda stuff.

“Pat Monahan has been extremely kind and generous with his time, and they have a tentative meeting scheduled with Dave Matthews later this summer.   A friend of a friend kind of thing.  They’ll make it or break it on doors their music has opened, not their mommies.”

And with that, the first arrow of doubt pierced his overblown certainty, and Jon was forced re-evaluate his stance.  A stance that may have had a firm foothold at the beginning, but when it had started to slide, he’d grabbed at any and everything to maintain his position, regardless of how flimsy a foundation it provided. 

It was time to step back and take a long, hard, objective look at Lilah Bennett.  Maybe she wasn’t as eschewed in evil as he’d wanted to paint her.  Maybe she really was just here to hook up with Tony, because he was Tony.  Even if that was true, there was no way in hell she was as perfect as his family was trying to sell.

It was time to meet this woman and actually talk with her instead of at her, so he could locate some kind of middle ground between the picture he had painted and the one being shoved down his throat.  Then he could find a justified stance that would hold solid.

He was ready to find out the truth.  All of it.

“Fine if you don’t wanna come back stage.  We’re staying in Bucharest another day.  I’d like you and Tony to have lunch with me and my wife tomorrow, if you would.  No confrontations, just lunch.”

“I’m sorry, but I have to ask.  Are you being coerced again?”

She couldn’t be blamed for her suspicion.  After the way he’d cornered her yesterday, she was completely justified.

“No.  Sincere invitation.”

A prolonged hush fell over the line before she somewhat haltingly agreed.  “Alright.  If it’s okay with Tony, it’s fine with me.”

“Good.”  He passed the phone to his brother.  “Here.  Tell her to come to the show.  I’ve got a sound check to do.  Babe, you waiting here?” 

“I’ll listen from out front,” Dorothea responded with an approving smile.  Knowing his wife as well as he did, she would demand more, but later - in private.  She knew him just as well, if not more so and could likely see he’d had enough for now.  He needed to get in the pre-show zone.

Jon cuffed Richie lightly in the back of the head.   “Sambora, get your lazy, busybody ass onstage.  Time’s a-wastin’.”

41 - Brotherly Love

Tony flipped his wrist around, surprised to find that it was already after three.  Problems and locale oddities had kept him busy since his arrival, but everything was fired up and ready to go.  He was set to grab a little dinner and chill for a couple of hours.

“Hey, bro.”  Richie clapped him on the shoulder then mounted the metal staircase.  “Miss Lilah feelin’ better today?”

Tony scrunched up his forehead and scratched at his goatee.  “Yeah.  I never did find out what that was all about, but she’s okay now.”

“I’m curious to see this girl,”  Tico rumbled, following along.  “If she’s got Dot bitchin’ Jonny out, she’s got to be worth meeting.”

“Hell,” Dave followed up with a rude snort.  “I’d pay her to hang out with us if she makes Jon the bitch-EE instead of the bitch-ER.”

Tony had vowed he was going to stay the hell away from Jon.  He wasn’t even going to mention that extra room thing, because it had happened before their ‘chat’ last night and there was no point in belaboring something that was after-the-fact.

But this… He was curious about how lunch went, and if Dot was talking about Lilah, Tony wanted to know what was being said.

“Where are they?”

David cocked a thumb toward the dressing rooms.  “In the haven of skulls.”

Recognizing the wise-ass crack as an alias for Jon’s personal dressing room, Tony made his way in the direction, careful to keep his footsteps and his temper moderated.  It wouldn’t do any good for the guys to find out he and Jon were having issues.  Richie probably suspected, but the rest of them should be relatively clueless about what was going on in Tony’s personal life.

“Oh, for God’s sake Jon, you’re being ridiculous!”

Tony’s feet slowed, and he cocked his head to get a better listen.  Curious as to what Dorothea was finding so maddening, he blatantly eavesdropped and immediately regretted it.

“I don’t think that I am.  You said her son is in a band.  She’s trying to find an ‘in’ for them, and using Tony to do it.  Isn’t it obvious?”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!  Seriously?  Am I hearing this right? 

Jon was set to believe the absolute worst about Lilah, no matter what.  What was it going to take to get through to him?

“You know what’s obvious to me?” Tony snarled, coming around the corner, all of his frustration sitting in the tightly balled fingers of his right hand.  It wasn’t even about Lilah anymore.  Not fully.  Jon continued to have no respect for him or his ability to make a judgment call.   It had now escalated to a point where he was ready to forcibly demand that respect. 

Yes, it was show day and that meant Jon was technically his boss, but that never crossed Tony’s mind.  He felt only insult and, as a result, saw nothing but his brother and the cloud of incessant frustration that Jon was creating.  He simply could not believe the unmitigated gall of the sibling that had always been his best friend.

“That you think you’re an all-knowing God.” 

Skirting Dorothea to get at Jon, who was perched on his director-chair-throne, Tony latched onto the sides of his brother’s half-unbuttoned shirt and jerked him abruptly to his feet, sending the ‘throne’ flying.   He took sick satisfaction in the surprise and glimmer of uncertainty in Jon’s eyes.

“Tony!”  Dorothea shouted over the clatter of the chair hitting the floor.  “What the hell are you doing?”  She scrambled to interject herself between the two men, but Tony angled around so that she was at his back.  He wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

“Goddammit,” the imprisoned Bongiovi bit out with a piercing blue glare and his jaw set in granite.  “Do not hit me.  I have I show to do, and you know better than to fuck with my business.”

“Since when did business become more important than family?” Tony countered with another unrelenting jerk, snapping his brother’s head back with the force of inertia.  Lifted to his toes, steam nearly rolled out of Jon’s ears.  Well he wasn’t the only one steaming.  Tony gave him one bone-jarring shake, growling, “Answer me!” 

Jon leaned forward, fully recovered from his surprise, blustering into Tony’s face, “Since when did a piece of ass become more important than family?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Tony snorted, shoving him away with disgust.  “Don’t even try that shit, when you’ve been nothing but a dickhead from the beginning.  It’s as much about your attitude toward me as it is her, you asshole.”

Dorothea scrambled to help a stumbling Jon before he tripped on the overturned chair.  He snatched his arm away as she loudly commanded, “Both of you, stop it!  This isn’t doing anybody any good.”

“Seems like nothing but a frontal lobotomy will,” Tony muttered, more bothered by upsetting her than anything that had transpired between him and Jon.   Dorothea was a saint, as far as he was concerned, and adding anything else to her already full plate of four children and a sometimes humble/sometimes egomaniacal husband made him feel bad.  “And if you’d ever bother talking to Lilah, you’d know she’s not like that, dumbass.”

“I think Tony has a point,” she concurred, speaking to her husband in a much kinder voice than she’d been using when Tony arrived.  “You need to meet the woman and actually talk to her.”

“I’ve talked to her plenty.”

Tony scoffed, “What?  Once in the hospitality tent?  I’m sure you found out everything there was to know in those three sentences.”

“No,” spat the man whose pride was wounded as much as his face.  “I talked to her yesterday, and she’s secretive as all hell.”  He pinned Tony with a accusing look.  “Did she actually talk to you, like she said she was gonna?  Do you finally know why she’s got her nose in the middle of our family?”

“Whoa.”  Tony lifted his hand as Jon righted the chair with a jerky motion.  “Back the truck up.  You talked to her yesterday?  When?”

“Yes, Jon, when?”  His better half crossed her arms and lifted her brow haughtily.  “And why?”

“When she checked into the hotel.  He knew that already.  I told him she killed her husband.”

I was so pissed that I didn’t even stop to think how he got the crazy-ass idea.  But, wait…  When she checked in?  Before Richie saw her crying in the elevator?

“Tony?”  A dark head swung his way, hitting a higher pitch than was typical for her.  “She killed her husband?”

He couldn’t blame Dorothea for her look of horror.  It sounded bad, but the truth was worse – in his opinion.  The only trouble was that Tony didn’t feel like it was his place to tell, or any of their business.

“No.”

“Then who did?” Jon pressed, throwing a belligerent arm in the air while firmly ensconced back in his ‘throne’.  “She wouldn’t give up anything about anything.  Said you could tell me when you found out.”

That was supposed to be his permission, Tony supposed, but he still wasn’t comfortable telling all of Lilah’s personal life.  With Jon’s preconceived opinion, he would find some way to screw it around.  Dorothea might get it, but Jon…

“Dottie…”  Ignoring his brother, he turned to his sister-in-law with his arms folded over his chest, confident in the question he was about to pose.  “You spent time with her.  Do you really think she’d kill her husband?”

Brown eyes blinked slowly as she apparently replayed her time with Lilah.  “It… would be hard to believe.  She wouldn’t even send food back when they got her order wrong.”

That sounded more in keeping with the Lilah he knew.

“My point exactly.  Jon doesn’t know anything about her, except how to make her cry.  What did you say to her, Jon?”

“Make her cry?”  Dorothea wasn’t impressed with that little tidbit.  “I’m asking you again, Jon.  Why were you talking to Lilah yesterday?”

“Yeah,” came a deep voice from the doorway, causing all three Bongiovis to whip their eyes in that direction.  “I’m curious, too.  That little girl was… well, pitiful really.  What’d you say to her, JB?”

Was it childish that Tony felt smug about Dorothea and Richie having his back?  Too bad.  It was comforting to know he didn’t have his head wrapped up in the bed sheets.  He wasn’t the only one who thought Jon was being a dick, and he appreciated the vindication, but adding Richie into the fray made Jon even more irritable.   

“Listen, I don’t have time for this shit.”  He rose impatiently to his feet, fixing Tony with a deadly glare.  “I have a sound check to do and you’re lucky I didn’t put your ass on the ground for that stupid macho power play."

“You're still welcome to try, old man,” Tony laughed, knowing he wouldn't do anything to invite a busted lip this close to show time.

Stepping between them, Dorothea planted the heel of her hand in Jon’s chest.  He wasn't escaping that easily.  “Answer me.”

“You know, I’m not a goddamn ogre!" he exploded, swatting Dorothea's hand away while still standing his ground.  "I asked her point-blank what the fuck she wanted.  I can’t help it if she's sensitive, or what the hell ever.”

“She’s not sensitive,” Tony contradicted.  “I’ve never seen her cry, but I have seen her give you hell.  There has to be more to the story that you're telling.”

“Jon…”

His wife’s single-word warning said not to mess with her, and Jon knew it.  “What?!  I told you!  I asked her what she wanted.  She said Tony.  I asked about her husbands and she clammed up because she wanted to talk to him.  Said if he was okay with whatever-the-hell it was, they’d work it out and, if not, she’d be on the first plane home.  Either way I wouldn’t have to see her again.  That’s it!”

There was almost an audible ‘click’ as the pieces snapped together in Tony's mind.  This explained Lilah’s change of heart.  She was trying to stay out of Jon’s way.

“That explains why she wouldn’t come with me this morning and refuses to come back stage tonight,” he informed his brother accusingly.  All the way to Europe and she couldn’t even enjoy the experience.

“You saying she didn’t tell you that already?” Jon scoffed.

“No, she didn’t tell me!   I don’t know why, but she didn’t.”

“I do.”  Dorothea’s quiet words garnered the men’s attention.  “Lilah mentioned during lunch - quite adamantly, as a matter of fact - that Jon didn’t care for her her, but she was going to do her best to minimize it to Tony.  She doesn’t want you two fighting.”

Tony reached around her and punched Jon in the shoulder.   “Yeah, that sounds like somebody you need to ride out of town on a rail, doesn’t it, Dipshit?”

Dorothea smacked him away with a withering look of warning.  She wasn’t putting up with his shit either.

“Give me your phone,” she commanded, palm held out flat.

Tony responded by immediately reaching for the device clipped to his pocket, but couldn't keep himself from asking, “What do you want with my phone?”

“I assume you have Lilah’s number in there?”

“Yeah.”

“Dial it.”  Determined brown eyes locked into his brother’s blue ones, and wordless communication honed by thirty years of togetherness passed between husband and wife.  “Jon is going to call Lilah and invite her back stage.  When she accepts his invitation and joins us before the show, he’s going to look her in the face and apologize for whatever he’s done.”

“And just why exactly would I do that?” the famous Bongiovi demanded even as the phone was pressed into his hand.

“You’ll do it,” his spouse enlightened him in a eerily quiet voice.  “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

40 - What's on the Agenda?

Lilah came out of the bathroom after her shower the next morning, pulling her hair into a ponytail before rummaging in her makeup case for moisturizer.   “Mornin’,” she greeted the bare-chested, bare-footed man with the morning stubble.  Tony was seated at the desk in nothing but his cargo shorts and bed-head, intently studying the screen of his Mac.  He had still been sleeping when she slid out from under the covers about twenty minutes ago.

“Hey.”

After squeezing a bit of the lotion onto her fingertips and swirling it over her face and neck, she rubbed the rest of it into her hands as she slid up beside him.  She wanted to run her palm across his bare shoulder and dig into the tension sitting at the base of his neck, but she wasn’t sure how he would feel about that level of familiarity without benefit of alcohol.

That question was answered when his forearm circled her waist.  Tony pulled her into a loose grip and winked up at her. 

“What’s got you lookin’ so serious at that computer screen, Jersey?” she inquired, settling her hand around the nape of his neck and kneading gently. 

“Ah, nothin’,” he deflected her concern, cocking one corner of his smile into full gear.  “I’ve been trying to get a business venture up and running and I’ve hit another snag.  The time difference is killing me.  I can never get in touch with anybody when I have time to deal with this shit.”

“Sounds interesting.  What kind of venture, if you don’t mind my askin’?”

“Mm.”  He leaned into her manipulating hand, eyes drifting shut at the steady continuity of motion over his taut muscles.  “Pasta sauce.”

She smirked at him with one arched eyebrow.  “Italian guy making pasta sauce.  That’s not too cliché.”

His hand dropped to her backside and had no trouble pinching her through the thin cotton of her black capris.  Leaning back and reading the rhinestone “jovi girl” scripted across the front of her pink t-shirt, he offered his own bit of sarcasm.  “You like shiny shit, don’t you?”

“Guilty.  Bright colors and sparkly stuff.  I’m a sucker for them.  I bought an orange belly dancer’s costume covered in sequins, for no other reason than I was drawn to it like a magpie.   I’ll end up sending it to one of my friends after I get home.”

“Let’s see it.” Pinching fingers flattened out and smoothed over the curve of her bottom, cupping the underside and gliding a finger along the crease at the top of her thigh.

It felt good.  So…  intimate, but not in a blatantly sexual way.  Lilah’s stomach muscles clenched with pleasure even as she shook her head in refusal.  “Mm… no.”

“Why?”

Because I don’t have the two drinks necessary to make me feel beautiful and sexy.

She nodded to the bedside clock.  “You have to be at the venue in about ten minutes.”

Following her line of vision, he sighed and pushed back from the desk, rising to his feet to drop a quick kiss over her mouth.  “True ‘dat.  Tonight, though...  I’m gonna hop in the shower.  Would you get me a shirt out of my bag?  Sleeveless.”

Lilah did as he asked, finding a black tank promoting the Sturgis motorcycle rally from 2007.  She draped it on the bed, noticing that he didn’t bother to close the bathroom door.  That feeling of non-sexual intimacy found her again.  Neither of her husbands had ever left the door open when they showered, stating that they wanted their privacy.  God only knew for what, but she’d never questioned it.

“Hey, Bluegrass,” he called over the running water.  “I know you said you don’t wanna hang at the venue today, but do you want to go over with me and grab something to eat from hospitality?”

Last time she’d gone to hospitality, she’d encountered Jon.  Jon, whom she promised wouldn’t see her again.  As tempting as it was to just spend time with Tony, she couldn’t risk it.

“No, but thank you,” she answered from her seat on the side of the bed.  “I’m just goin’ to go downstairs.  I enjoyed dinner last night in the hotel restaurant, so I’ll pop in there again.”

“Suit yourself.  You wanna watch the show from backstage?”

Again, not something she could indulge in and fulfill her promise. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got a Diamond Circle ticket.  That’ll be fine.”

In reality, she might not go at all.  Her overall concert experience was sure to be dulled a bit by the front man who was ready to send her down the river at the first opportunity.

The water shut off and the shower curtain swooped open with a tinny clatter of metal shower hooks.  In another minute, Tony was padding back into the bedroom, once again wearing his shorts and glasses, and rubbing a towel over his head. 

“You know, I don’t get it,” he mused, locating his shaving kit and pausing in his return trek to study her with confusion.  “A couple days ago you were killing yourself to get back there, and now you don’t seem to care one way or the other.”

That’s not true.  That’s not true at all.

“You answered my most pressin’ question.  I wanted to know if you chose the screen shots, and now I know.  It’s best if I stay out of the way.”

He looked like he wanted to debate the point further, but there was a knock at the door that interrupted their conversation. 

“That’s probably Rew looking for me.  Grab that while I run a razor over my face?”

Tony disappeared into the bathroom – leaving the door open – while Lilah rose to admit his visitor.  Having only spent a minimal amount of time with him, she wasn’t sure how she felt about Mike Rew yet.  He was probably a nice guy, but on a couple of separate occasions she’d caught him looking in a way that made her feel he was laughing at her.

Turning the knob, she quickly found that she wasn’t going to have to worry about that this time, because it wasn’t Mike at the door.

It was Dorothea Bongiovi.

“Hi,” she greeted with a warm smile, discerning eyes making a quick assessment of Tony’s roommate.  To her credit, the scars barely made a noticeable hitch in the swiftness of her perusal.  “I’m going to assume you’re Lilah?”

“Um, yes.  Please come in.  I’ll tell Tony you’re here.”  Taking a backward step, she called out for him.

“Oh, no, no,” Dorothea dissuaded her, without crossing the threshold.  “I’m actually stopping by to invite you for lunch.”

“What’s the problem?” Tony started to ask before his smile went wide, as white as the remaining shaving cream on his jaw.  “Dorothea!  What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hey, Tony.”  His sister-in-law stepped in to give him a kiss on his freshly shaven cheek.  “I decided to hook up with you guys for a couple of days.  Since you have to go to work, I came to invite Lilah to join me for lunch.” 

Lilah was standing beside the nightstand, hooking a conservative gold hoop into each ear.

“Bluegrass?” He spoke her nickname into a question as he wiped his face.  “She’s much nicer than my asshole of a brother.”

Closing the door behind her, Dorothea’s chocolate eyes narrowed along with her lips, but she managed to keep her smile pinned in the appropriate manner.  “No comment.  I just wanted a chance to meet Lilah since…”  Her comment trailed off uncertainly.

“Since I’m shacked up with one brother while the other thinks I’m devil?” Lilah inquired drolly, tucking her hands into her back pockets out of nervous habit.

“Cut that shit out,” Tony ordered, grabbing his shoes and socks as his phone started ringing.  The phone got ignored.  “You're here because I want you to be, and he’s going to give you a wide berth from now on.  I made sure of it.”

She stifled a sigh, beyond annoyed that Tony had to play referee.  How much more did Jon want?  She told him she would stay away from him.

“You know,” Dorothea interceded.  “How about we leave my dear husband out of this for now?  Lilah, Tony seems to like you, so I’d appreciate the chance to get to know you, too.  That’s all.  No ulterior motive.”

Standing, he swooped up his shirt and settled it over his head, moving in on Lilah.  “Why don’t you go, instead of spending the day alone?” he asked in a low voice.  “You’ll have a good time, I promise.  Dottie’s great.”

“What do I say when she asks me why I’m here?  You know she’s going to,” she murmured in an even lower voice. 

Tony tipped her chin with a little smirk, dropping a leisurely kiss on her mouth and whispering, “You tell her it was a strange twist of Fate.”

Lilah was still savoring that handful of words half an hour later in the hotel restaurant, and regretting that she hadn’t been in a position to drill him with questions.  She was dying to know if that meant he believed her.  More than that, she wanted to know if he was agreeing with her that Fate had brought him into her life.

Instead, she was crossing and uncrossing her legs uncomfortably across from the wife of the man who hated her. 

“I’ve heard a little bit about you, Lilah.  Enough to make me curious.”

Looking up from the bubbles floating in her glass of Coke, Lilah politely turned the tables on Dorothea.  “I feel the same way about you.  It’s very odd hearing your voice, as a matter of fact.  You’re the most famous mime in rock and roll.”

Dorothea burst out into husky laugh.  “That’s a new one on me.  I have very little patience with quotes taken out of context, and learned early on that it was best for me to do nothing but nod and smile at the press.”

“Still…  After all these years, I would’ve had to say somethin’ to somebody.  You’re a far more patient woman than I.”

Shrugging, she accepted a salad from the waitress with a nod of thanks and waited for Lilah’s sandwich to be served.  "Didn't you order a croissant?"  She flipped her hair behind her shoulder with a frown, noting the dark bread on Lilah's plate.

"Yes, but this is fine."  

"You're sure you don't want to send it back?  They should bring you what you ordered."

"Heavens, no.  It's not that big of a deal," Lilah insisted, even as Dorothea continued to frown.  Jon's wife waited another moment, to ensure that Lilah didn't change her mind and resumed their conversation.

“As for patience, not really.  I spend my mental energy on more important things.”  She smiled shrewdly, draping the linen napkin over her lap.  “Like who in the crowd around me has gotten a breast enhancement, lift or Botox since the last event.  Or who is due for a root job.  That’s how I entertain myself.  It keeps me too busy to worry about whatever mundane things the celebrity press are shoving down people’s throats.”

Reluctantly impressed with the Queen of New Jersey, Lilah felt herself relax a little.  Tony had faith in his sister-in-law and, so far, Dorothea had done nothing to indicate that it wasn’t warranted.

“That very candid response has earned my respect,” she admitted, picking at the garnish adorning the plate.  “So I’m goin’ to make this easy on you.  Why don’t ya just cut to the chase and tell me what you’re wantin’ to know?”

Squarely meeting her gaze, Dorothea picked up her fork and said calmly, “I just want to know about you, Lilah.  Where you’re from, what you do.  If you have children.  That kind of thing.”

“Really?”  Lilah frowned skeptically.  “You’ll be content knowing that I teach technology classes just outside Lexington, Kentucky and that I have a nineteen year old son?  Given my dealin’s with your husband, I find that hard to believe.  I’d rather not beat around the bush waitin’ for the axe to fall, as it were, and I’m perfectly willin’ to give you honesty for honesty.  Ask what you want.”

She pierced a small bit of tomato, popped it in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.  “I’m not entirely sure what your ‘dealin’s’ have been with Jon, but based on the little I know, I think you’ll find my agenda much friendlier.”

“If he isn’t sayin’, then neither will I.”

“I’m sure he will appreciate that.”  Dorothea tilted her head amicably, this time choosing a cucumber.  “Your son.  Is he in college?  My daughter’s the same age and she just finished her freshman year.”

“Seriously?  That’s it?”

With a Mona Lisa smile, Lilah was assured, “That’s it.  Seeing you two together was enough for me.  You’re in love with him and he’s caught up in you.”

Lilah very nearly choked on the bite of turkey that just went into her mouth.  She was forced to take a long swallow of Coke before her windpipe was clear enough to speak.  “Tony would be an easy man to love, but I’m not in love with him.”

“Whatever.  You have feelings for him, which means you’re not jacking him around or playing him for a fool.  That’s all I care about.”

***Note:  This chapter was written almost a week ago, prior to the information about Tony retiring from touring being released.  Weird coincidence....

39 - Whadda Ya Know?

When Tony came back from the bathroom, Lilah was on the phone.   He pulled on his boxers and listened with half-an ear to her conversation as he grabbed his cigarettes and dragged a chair over to the window. 

“That’s so cool!” she was enthusing her eyes glowing with happiness, her back propped against the headboard with the sheet tucked under the arm she’d draped across the top of her breasts.  “So you’ll be getting’ paid every week?  Uh-huh.  Well, I’m excited for you guys, but keep it in perspective.  Don’t go droppin’ all your fall classes just yet.  Promise?.....  Thank you………….  I should be home by then……...  Of course I’ll come to one of the shows!  Am I allowed to bring my camera and video if I promise not to put it on YouTube?”

He chuckled and blew smoke out into the night sky, unaccountably relaxed.   She smiled sheepishly and mouthed, “Sorry,” but he waved her apology away.  It was obviously her son, and Lilah was happy to hear from him.  He must have had good news to share. 

“Yes, I’m havin’ a good time……”  Her still-dancing eyes flicked to Tony’s with a quirky little grin, and she tucked her hair behind her ear. “No show tonight......  It’s okay, I’m glad you called.  Is there anything you need?   I can transfer some money into your checkin’ account, but if you need somethin’ else, call your Dad or Joanna.  Or I can call.  Don’t live on jelly cream pies and pizza…..  I don’t care if that’s what you like.  Change it up once in a while…….  No, Taco Bell doesn’t count.” 

Typical teenage boy.  

Tony shook his head with a smirk.  At that age, he had preferred to live on McDonald’s, whenever it was an option.  Would still live on pizza if it weren’t brutal to his cholesterol.  He felt a zing of jealousy at the teenage metabolism.    

Inspecting the tip of his cigarette, he watched it burn slowly, a curious frown forming.  It should be awkward listening to the woman he'd just had down-and-dirty sex talk with to her kid, but it wasn’t.  Right now, he was nothing but relaxed, feeling well-satisfied and knowing that she was too.  Tony was looking forward to finishing his smoke and crawling between the sheets to wrap himself around a naked woman, where they might both be satisfied again, or simply fall asleep.  Either was equally appealing.

That should have you scared shitless, Jack.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?  I’ll talk to ya in a couple days.  I love you, Baby.”  She disconnected the call and slid the phone onto the nightstand.  “I’m sorry.  Andrew and his buddy got a regular gig at one of the local restaurants-slash-bars, and this time they’re getting’ paid.  He’s pretty excited.”

Stubbing out the remains of his cigarette butt on the windowsill, Tony stood and dropped it in a glass on the desk. 

“He should be.  That’s a big deal.  You think he’s gonna hit the big time?”

She shrugged sliding out from under the sheet.  Finding her panties, she slipped them on and admitted, “I doubt it, but if he wants to try, I’ll be right there with my camera like an embarrassing groupie mom.  I just want to keep him in school as long as I can, so that if he does drop out to pursue the big time, he won’t have as much to finish when he comes back to it later.”

“Don’t,” he requested quietly when she started to pull a t-shirt over her head.  Swinging his feet up on the bed, he patted the spot that was still warm from her bottom.  “I’ll keep you warm.”

She considered it for a moment, studying him with an intensity that took him back to that first night.  He felt like she could see something inside him.  It didn’t creep him out so much this time, and he let her look her fill.  Another second later, she dropped the shirt back into her suitcase, bending to reach for a zippered bag. 

“Okay, but I have to take out my contacts.  I didn’t do it last night and they’re just about to kill me.  Be right back.”

While she slipped into the bathroom, Tony admired the wiggle of her butt in those purple polka dotted panties until a notion overtook his conscious thought.  He couldn’t say where it came from, because it had no connection to her polka dotted ass whatsoever, but it was as clear and vivid as those panties and he knew he hadn’t just made it up.

“What time do you have to be up in the morning?” Lilah called through the open door.  “Do you need me to set an alarm for you?”

“Mm, no, I’m good.”  Tony blinked a couple of times, scratching absently at his chest as she extinguished the light and returned to the bedroom.  He let the thought slip away in favor of studying her bespectacled face.  The dark-rimmed glasses were cute.  Very librarianish, they made her look studious and intelligent.  The novelty of them was almost enough to distract him not only from his own musings, but the luscious sway of her breasts.

You just had her like a raging beast.  Show a little fuckin’ couth.

“What time do you have to be at the venue?”

He forced his eyes to her face, rolling lazily onto his left hip and tossing back the covers for her to crawl in next to him.  When she was settled in on her back, covered to the tops of her breasts, his libido took a smoke break.  It was something other than that which prompted him to burrow against the sheet until his hand settled over her lower abdomen.  “Eleven.  You coming with me?”

Tony’s exceedingly lively imagination saw pain streak across her face like a lightning flash before she fashioned her mouth into a vague smile and eased the librarian accessory from her nose.  Folding the arms of the glasses together, she rolled to her left and set them on the nightstand. 

“No, I don’t think so, but thank you.  Do you mind if I turn out the light?”

“Go ahead.”  He went through the same vision-impaired ritual, putting his glasses on the opposite nightstand as the room plunged into darkness.  Tony situated himself comfortably on his left side and skated his hand over the velvety skin of her belly.  Squirreling two fingers under the elastic waistband of her panties, into the groove of her thigh where the little tattoo lived, he traced random swirls over it with his fingertips.  “I’m kinda surprised you don’t wanna come.”

Lilah went motionless and then brought gentle fingers to stroke his forearm from wrist to elbow.  “Are you?  I think it’s best for everybody if I stay out of the way.”  Without a breath, she immediately changed the subject, stealing away any chance for him to respond.  “The tattoo…  I got it last August, after I finally I understood the significance of what happened to me at HullabaLOU.  It was life-altering, and I wanted to commemorate it.”

Frowning, he rubbed his whiskered chin softly over the ball of her shoulder.  “You’re changing the subject.”

“Yes, I am.  Would you like to know what the symbol inside the frame of film is?”

He didn’t like the way this was going, but considering that he was only interested in someone to warm his bed, did he really need to know her real reason for not being in his hair all day tomorrow?

You’re a damn liar.  You might want your bed warm, but not by ‘someone’. 

Regardless, their… friendship wasn’t the kind that demanded full disclosure.   It was just weird, considering how gung-ho she’d been about it yesterday, the day before and the week before that, in Dublin.  But if she didn’t want to come, so what?  It was no skin off his nose.

“Sure.  What’s it mean?”

The pillow rustled when she turned her head toward him.  Tony’s eyes had become acclimated enough to the darkness that he could just make out the shape of her face and tell she was straining to see his. 

“Fate.”

They were back to that again.  If he were honest, he would just tell her he’d gotten used to the idea and almost accepted it.  Even if he didn’t fully believe it, he believed that she did, and he had no other way to account for the things she’d spouted off about him today.

Like you have no way to account for…

The notion from a moment ago rushed back to the forefront of his mind, followed by a hazier one that he’d had earlier.  At first he attributed it to the booze, but now it was stronger.  More prominent.  More real.   

“It’s not an exact representation of the Chinese symbol, but more of an artistic rendering,” she continued unaware of his mental detour.

Do you think they are real?  Is this the kinda shit she’s been talking about?

There was only one way to find out.  

“Lilah.”

“Hmm?”

What he was about to chance doing was enough to make him withdraw his touch and put a little space between them.  If he was wrong… 

Then you’re wrong.  And the crazy one.  Stop being a chicken shit and a teenage drama queen.

“You’re not the only one who knows things.”

She went motionless and then rolled onto her right hip so they were face-to-face, for what good it did in the pitch darkness.  “What… do you mean?  Like my premonitions?”

“I guess.  Unless I’ve gone nuts and started making shit up.”  He was a putz for going out on this limb.  It should’ve taken a helluva lot more booze to get him to do something like this.  Was he still drunk?  Could he claim that?

“Tell me.”  Her whisper was as much a breath on his cheek as an audible sound, and her fingers sought his, sliding between them with a gentle squeeze.

“These things don’t go together,” he warned, stalling and maybe distracting them both from the psychosis in progress. 

“My knowin’ your sexual preferences didn’t exactly go hand-in-hand with your feelin’ left out with your family,” she reminded him dryly.  “I’m not going to judge, I just want to hear.”

He was hesitant to infer something that wasn’t true, but Tony knew it was.  He couldn’t explain how he knew, but he did.

“You have it in your head that your son is all you’ve got.  I don’t know what the deal is with your friends and the rest of your family, but you feel like it’s just you and him, and when he goes off and does his own thing…”

“It’s gonna break my heart,” she finished softly.  “Yeah.  He’s the one person who accepts me for me.  I might not talk to him or see him every single day, but I know where he is and what he’s doin’ for the most part.  That’s not always gonna be the case.”

Not knowing what else to do, and feeling awkward for voicing the stupid thought in the first place, he squeezed her hand and touched the back of it with his lips.  Lilah didn’t say anything.  She just returned the squeeze and let him keep hold of her hand. 

It was time to move on to the other idea he had stuck in his head.  The one that wasn’t so heavy.  The one he might have made up due more to desire than any type of mystical insight.  Thinking about it, his skin sizzled enough that he had to slip his leg in between hers to ease the need for contact.  Even if it wasn’t right, he could make it work and have a helluva time doing it.

“I know… that you want to be dominated… but not in the traditional sense.  You crave somebody who will force you to take what you want.”

A slow, whispery gasp found his ears by way of his libido.  Her surprise was sexy.  “I… can’t say that I’ve ever had that specific thought, but it kinda… does somethin’ to me.”

Relief and desire warred for supremacy and, being a man, Tony opted to focus on the desire.  He eased their hands apart and slipped an arm around her bare waist, pulling until their hips bumped.  “Next time,” he promised with the lightest brush of his mouth over hers.  “Right now, I wanna know why you’re wearing those panties.”

“Because I can’t sleep naked,” she murmured into his kiss, his stubble scraping her palm as it stroked over his jaw.

“You will.”  His even teeth sunk gingerly into her bottom lip, causing her to inhale with the tiniest of purrs. ”If I have to drive you to the point of exhaustion every single night, you will get over that.”

38 - Sweet Confidence

He went rock-hard when she touched his leg with her sultry little demand, and all thought of his famous brother left him.  Tonight, here in the bar, in the corner booth… he’d discovered yet another Lilah.  This one was nothing short of spellbinding with her confidently drawled innuendo, and he wanted her. 

Thank God for long shirt-tails.

The rest of the booze went down in one long gulp, and as soon as the thick bottom of the glass made contact with the table, he gently pried her fingers from his leg.  Tangling them in his, he lifted both eyebrows questioningly.  “Ready?”

The smile that he’d complimented her on a few minutes ago took on a seductive slant.  “For you?  Yes.”

“Goddammit, Bluegrass,” he muttered easing out of the booth without letting go of her hand.  Tony’s other hand went to ensure his shirt sufficiently covered the bulge in his jeans.  “You keep it up and we won’t make it to the room.”

“I’m sorry.”  A quick glance down into her face, confirmed that she was anything but sorry.  She looked rather pleased with herself, her heaven and earth eyes sparkling as brightly as the shiny things all over her shirt.

“What the hell happened to all your insecurity?” he demanded, impatiently punching the elevator call button.  “You drown it in a bottle of rum?”

Keeping their fingers twisted together, she spun lightly on the balls of her sparkly sandaled feet until she was toe-to-toe with him, smiling up into his face.  “You said you didn’t wanna think above your waist, and I thought it sounded like a good idea.  No filter tonight.  No insecurity.  What you see is what you get.”

Nudging her to walk backward into the elevator, he stabbed the button for their floor and whirled to pin her against the side of the car.  “I think that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said,” he breathed against her mouth, before sweeping inside to mingle the lingering fruity sweetness with the sour mash still coating his tongue. 

A soft gasp of surprise mutated into a sensual purr at the back of her throat when their tongues twisted avidly together, fighting for domination.  She was determined to taste him to the fullest and he was intent upon losing all of his pent-up frustration in her softness.  Lilah’s hands cradled his head as he burrowed his fingertips between the silky sparkle of the top and the waistband of her jeans.  His reward was immediate in the velvetiness of her skin. 

“So soft,” he whispered, the pads of his fingers greedily racing over her waist and lower-back.  “Never felt anybody so soft.”

Rounded fingernails scraped lightly over his nape and into his hair, just as greedy in their desire to touch.  Her eyes were blurred, yet focused intently on his mouth.  Toying with her, Tony let the tip of his tongue slip out and wash across his bottom lip.  He was immediately rewarded with the dilation of her pupils, followed by the anxious chewing of her own bottom lip – all the while still staring.

He was opening his mouth to scold her about ‘no insecurity’ when a discreet chime sang their arrival at the tenth floor, and the jolt of the elevator car made him topple on his slightly unsteady feet.  He quickly righted himself, and clasped her hand again. “C’mon.”   Pulling her alongside him, he made a mostly-straight beeline for their room to stand in front of the door and fumble for the key. 

“I’ve got it,” Lilah squeezed in front of him to insert her key in the card reader.  When the light blinked green, she pushed down the handle and slid inside, with Tony right behind her.

“Lilah…”

She tossed the key on the dresser and spun on her toes to face him, yet maintained a fair distance.  “Yes?”

“I’m a little bit drunk.”

“You are?” she cooed with amusement, striding forward to place her open right hand on his chest and run it to the top of his shoulder.  Stretching, she brought herself closer to his height, teasing the corner of his mouth with a tiny kiss.  “I never woulda guessed, sweetie.”

“And a lot horny.”

Her right hand stayed perched upon his shoulder, but her left stole southward and he sucked a breath when it gently folded over his erection.  Still amused, and now smirking, Lilah gave him a knowing look.  “That I woulda guessed.”

Fuck.

Tony was officially charmed, enamored and fully aroused by Ms. Lilah Bennett.  He needed to be buried deep inside her at least five minutes ago. 

“Kiss me,” he rasped, pushing hands that were almost too rough under the hem of her shirt so that he could knead the soft globes that made such an enticing side-by-side presentation.  Tony slid his thumbs into the lush valley between them, stroking outward along the lace edge of her bra. 

Lilah opened her mouth wide, eager to accept and return the kiss.  Arching into his touch, she deliberately overflowed his hands with the pliant flesh while she tunneled fervent fingers through his hair.  Tony relished their weight against his palms. 

Nothing matched the feel of a woman’s breast in his hand.  He squeezed gently and received a soft groan in response.  He squeezed a little harder and she broke the kiss, impatient hands fumbling over his shirt buttons.

“I got it.”  Reluctantly releasing his playthings, he took a step back and pulled the shirt forward by the collar and let it slither to the floor.  “’Zat better?”

She very nearly pounced on him, combing through the dark pelt firmly enough to leave scratches on the skin beneath.  In his experience, some women just had a thing for hairy guys.  Others preferred the smooth-as-a-baby’s-butt thing.  While Lilah had been all about his chest from the start, he didn’t think it was because of the bearskin rug parked on it.  It was probably the whiskey whispering wicked lies, but Tony had it in his head that Lilah liked his chest because it was his.

A surge of testosterone hit him like a tidal wave, nearly drowning him with its force. 

Fucking needs to be happening.

“Naked.  Bed.  Now.”

Lilah’s head snapped up at the rapid-fire staccato order, embarrassed at the pool of moisture it created between her thighs.  His eyes were dark enough to be navy, brooding and intense.  There wasn’t a detectable trace of amusement or levity in his face, only a look of sheer, unwavering determination.

The pool runneth over, she thought.

“Did you hear me?”

She shuddered deliciously from head to toe and went short of breath.  Tony didn’t have a deep voice, but those words were rumbled so roughly that she was sure he could sing bass with Tico. 

Nodding once, she reached for the button at her waist, watching with rapt fascination as he unbuckled his belt.  Their zippers grated open at the same time, and both pairs of jeans hit the floor within seconds of one another.  Shoes were kicked away, leaving Tony straining against the black cotton of his boxers and Lilah’s purple polka-dotted bikini panties distinctly damp.

However, his chest was bare and hers was not.  She had a very strong feeling that she’d better rectify that problem soon…

“If you don’t take it off, I will,” he threatened, inching toward her.    

The hands that were about to reach for the hem of her shirt stilled as her skin prickled with interest, and Lilah’s words tumbled out without conscience thought.  “Okay.  Take it off.”

His growl was muffled by the fabric being whipped over her head, and when he wrapped his arms around her to unfasten the catch on the lacy black bra, Tony spoke in her ear.  “All you’re doing is making me hornier, Bluegrass.  I’m gonna have to fuck you for days to get satisfied.”

She tipped her chin up, chortling softly as the air-conditioned air tickled her nipples, puckering them into tight points.  “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.  I can accept that.”

“I see how it is.  Without that filter, you’re a little smartass.” Those wide, wide hands pushed down into her panties and shoved them unceremoniously toward the floor.  Lightly smacking her bare butt, he curled one corner of his mouth up in the sexiest smirk she’d ever seen.  “I like it.”

Lord help me to pray.  He says the most panty meltin’ things.

“Get on the bed, Lilah.  In whatever position you wanna be fucked in.”  His thick erection sprang free as the boxers hit the floor with the rest of their clothing.  “Because it’s comin’, and it’s comin’ now.”

“What position do you want me in?” she countered, balancing on the edge of the mattress.  The movement of his hands as he held his hardness and rolled on a condom hypnotized her.  He

“I’m too wound up to play this game.  Hands and knees, ass in the air.  I can pound harder that way.”

Excited beyond all measure, Lilah did as she was told, pushing away the insecurity of having him staring at her naked backside.  The reality of it was that she didn’t have more than a second to think about it before he was clambering behind her on his knees and swiping two fingers through that overflowing pool.

“You want me as much as I want you, don’cha, Baby?”

“More.”

His fingers were replaced by something wider and more blunt slipping through her folds.  Down, then up, then….

“Oh!”  The breath whooshed out almost painfully when he claimed her, and she rocked forward on her hands and knees. 

“Fuckkk, Lilah.  You feel so good wrapped around me.”

He felt so good in her, but she didn’t have a chance to tell him that before he was retreating and then levering his hips forward again.  His hands were everywhere as he found the rhythm he was looking for – her bottom, her back, her shoulders.  There was so much touching….  Lilah loved it. 

“Jersey...” she panted over her shoulder.  “So good.  You fit me… so good.”

They went that way forever it seemed.  He made love to her with his hands while he fucked her.  It was the best of both worlds, and Lilah got so wound up in it that up became down and down became sideways as their breathing became labored and the sweat beaded at her temples. 

It felt good.  Amazing.  Phenomenal.  But it wasn’t enough. 

“Getting’ close, Baby,” he breathed onto her neck, his chest pressed against her back.  Those hands that seemed to be everywhere, were curling around her waist, covering her tummy and when one of them scraped over the swollen nub between her legs….

“Tony!”

… she shattered.  Into a gazillion itsy, bitsy, teeny, tiny, glittery, flowery, squishy little pieces that might never fall back together again in the same way.

But Lilah couldn’t find it in herself to care.