I've Hit a Snag

I'm writing on the story, but it's not exactly coming out in chronological order right now.  I'm skipping back and forth between scenes and am unsure as to where the pieces I'm writing will eventually connect.  And I've been going back and re-reading some of the story, realizing that I'm missing stuff I wanted to do.  I'm annoyed that this isn't coming out as well as I want it to.

Sooo....  What does that mean?  Well...  there's good news and bad news.

Bad news is that there's no post today - and maybe not Wednesday, either.  The good news is that I foresee bonus posts once all this falls into place.

Sometimes my stupid mind is just not very considerate to the posting schedule.  I'm sorry.  :o/

♥blush

64 - The Morning After

TO:  Morgan_Prince; aussie_angel

FROM:  MissLilahJane

August 1, 2011

Just a quick note from the airport in London, girls.  I knew you’d both want to know that I’m on the way home, but didn’t have time to send an email before getting on the plane in Lisbon.  Sorry about that.

I also knew you’d be wondering whether I chickened out of telling Tony.

I didn’t chicken out. 

And I’m still on my way back to Lexington, if that tells you anything. 

That’s really all the more I want to think about it right now.  My memories don’t need to be tainted with what might have been.  It was an idyllic month of July and I’ll always cherish it.

Now it’s time to shift gears and mentally prepare myself for laundry and ‘spring’ cleaning at the house.  The good news?  Your inboxes will once again be subjected to astonishingly regular (daily/hourly) installments of the Lilah Show.  :)

I’ll let you know when my last flight safely hits the ground in Kentucky.  Love y’all…

✧✧✧

“Welcome home, Mommy.”

Letting her computer case thud quietly next to her feet, Lilah wrapped her arms all the way around the lanky teenager who had come to collect her from the airport.  Sighing contentedly when he returned the hug with like enthusiasm, she stole a moment to soak in the closeness of her boy.  They may not talk every single day, and she may only see him a couple times a week, but he was hers and she loved the quasi-grungy man-child with all her heart.

“Thank you, Baby Bear,” she greeted with watery eyes as he pressed a quick, inconspicuous kiss to her temple.  Releasing him with a smile, she lovingly stroked a hand down the dimpled cheek that was currently scruffed by at least a week’s worth of whisker stubble.  “You sure are a sight for sore eyes.  I knew I missed you, but didn’t realize how much until this very minute.”

He grinned back at her, stooping to snag her laptop bag in his left hand before swinging around to hook his right arm over her shoulders.  “I missed you, too.  Did you have a good time?”

Lilah leaned into Andrew and looped a casual arm around his waist.  Knowing that the cargo handlers didn’t get in any hurry, they took their time ambling toward baggage claim.

“I had a great time, thank you.  How about you?  What’s going on your world?”

“Eh.  Yanno.  The usual.  Band practice, work, the occasional gig.  A whole lot of rotting my brain on the internet.”

She laughed, feeling the first inkling of peace since walking out of that Lisbon hotel room earlier today.   The familiar routine of an unflappable teenage boy was comforting beyond measure.  “It’s good to know some things never change.”

“Although…”  He pulled back, narrowed eyes peering at her from beneath the shaggy brown hair that always seemed to beg for a trim.  “I did get an interesting phone call today.”  

Finding a couple of seats within sight of the conveyor belt that would deliver her suitcase, Lilah collapsed into the plastic chair next to her son.  She crossed her legs and gave him a faint smile. 

“You did?  From who?”

“Some guy who wanted me to send a demo of our band,” he drawled, now vibrating with restrained excitement.  This guy must be more than the clerk at the second-hand music store. 

“Oh, honey, that’s great!” she enthused, rubbing an encouraging hand across his back.  Whether he and his friends made the ‘big time’ or not, she believed now was the perfect time in his life for Andrew to chase his dreams.  It was part of the reason she was glad he’d been without a girlfriend lately.  Distractions of the feminine persuasion tended to dim any dream that didn’t look good in a short skirt.  “How did he hear about you?”

“You.  At least I assume so, since he told me to tell you he said hi.”

Her forehead furrowed and she tipped her head to the side, visibly manifesting her confusion.  She hadn’t told anybody about the boys’ band other than Tony.   But, thinking back, she did remember a confrontation with Jon where Andrew’s name had come up.  After she’d unequivocally refused any handout on the boys’ behalf, the topic had never arisen again.

 “Who was it?”

“Richie Sambora.”

“What?”  Now she was really confused. 

Richie was there durin’ that ‘discussion’ with Jon.  And Dorothea.  Remember, Lilah Jane?

“You didn’t give him my number?”

“Sweetheart, I’d love to tell you I choreographed the whole thing, but I’m sorry.   You know I’m not the type to pimp you out.”

That probably made her a disgrace to the sanctity of motherhood.  It definitely took her out of the running for Stage Mother of the Year, but it’s just how she was.  Asking for favors or handouts wasn’t her style and, considering that he’d lived his entire life with her, Andrew surely realized that.

“Well, that’s what I thought was really weird,” he laughed.  “I just couldn’t picture you stalking Richie for me instead of yourself.” 

She lightly flicked his ear with a chastising frown.  “Smartass.  I did meet him several times, but I certainly didn’t ask for any favors or give him your phone number.”

“What?!  You met the guy you’ve had a fan girl crush on my whole life and I’m just now hearing about it?  I can’t believe you didn’t text the minute he looked at you!” He waggled a chastising finger in Lilah’s face.  “Bad Mommy!”

She rolled her eyes and carelessly swatted his finger away.  “Yeah, yeah, I know.  I suck.  That still doesn’t explain the how or why of his phone call.”

“Now that I think about it,” he mused thoughtfully, sliding his big, blue eyes to some distant point down toward the ticket counter.  “I’m pretty sure he said he got my number from some company.  There were letters.  I was a little shocked at who I was talking to, so I didn’t pay that much attention.  T…something J.  Mayyy-be?”

Not TBJ.  Surely not TBJ.

But it had to be.  That was the only thing that made sense. 

It happened at the Zurich show.  After the night on the bus, Lilah had collapsed at the hotel without charging her phone.  Tony had run into problems after the show, taking twice as long as usual and Lilah had decided to kill two birds with one stone.  While waiting for him to finish the post-show wrap, she’d asked to borrow his phone so that she could check in with Andrew, whom she hadn’t talked to for a couple of days. 

If he were so inclined to use it, or give it out, Tony had her son’s number in his phone.

Evidently he was so inclined.

Explaining that story to Andrew would entail her coming clean as to who she’d actually been stalking in Europe.  Tonight was not the time for that cleansing.

“I’m too tired to puzzle it out right now,” she begged off as the noisy conveyor belt kicked into gear.  “So you’re sendin’ Richie a demo, then?  Do you have his number so I can call and thank him?”

Mother and son both stood and drifted toward the luggage that was popping out of the wall a piece at a time.  “Do I look stupid to you?  Of course we’re sending it!  Zach and I are just trying to decide which one.  The call came in as Blocked so I don’t have his number.  But since we’re sending a digital file of the demo, I do have an email address ….”

✧✧✧

TO:  RSambo59

FROM:  MissLilahJane

August 2, 2011

Hi Richie!  This is Lilah Bennett, from the European leg of the tour.  Tony’s… friend/stalker/pain-in-the-ass?  Bluegrass?  I guess one of those descriptions will ring a bell for you.  :o)

I just got back to Kentucky late last night, and my son picked me up from the airport.  You can imagine how surprised I was to find out he had talked to you earlier in the day.  And that you requested a demo from his band. 

First of all, thank you.  It made for a memorable day in his life, but you were there when I talked to Jon about Andrew.  I had no intention of ‘using’ anyone affiliated with Bon Jovi to further my son’s fledgling attempt at a music career.  You really didn’t have to contact him, and I hope no one approached you to do so without my knowledge.

Speaking of which…  How DID you get Andrew’s contact information?  Or even find out his name?  I’m sure I never mentioned it.

Look at me, sounding like an ungrateful shrew, when that’s the furthest thing from the truth.  I’m grateful for the glimmer of professional attention you’ve thrown Andrew’s way.  EXTREMELY grateful.  Regardless of why you chose to seek him out, thank you.  Thank you so much.

Best wishes for the best of everything for you.  I’m sure you’ll be headed on vacation with that beautiful daughter of yours.  Enjoy, and take care of yourself.  Lots of women out there are devastated when you don’t. 

Sincerely,

Lilah

✧✧✧

 TO:  MissLilahJane

FROM:  RSambo59 

August 2, 2011

I’d rather talk than email.  Send me your phone #.

Lilah was tucked under the fluffy lime-green comforter, wearing nothing but a skimpy t-shirt when she got his reply via the email program on her phone. 

It was almost noon on a Tuesday.  She should be ashamed of her slothful ways. 

However, considering that she hadn’t gotten to bed until after two that morning, and that she’d been awake for umpteen hours before that, AND that she’d been forced to sleep alone for the first time in weeks, tossing and turning restlessly as a result…  Well, she didn’t feel the least bit guilty about her half-conscious butt still being in bed. 

Flopping over onto her side, she burrowed into the familiar mattress and tapped out the requested numbers, sending it with a wide yawn.  Her hand dropped to the bed, fingers still curled around the phone.

Welcome back to reality, Lilah Jane Bennett. 

That wasn’t entirely true, she argued with herself.  Her personal reality had never involved dashing off a quick email to Richie-freaking-Sambora.  Now, after she talked to him, and had that chat behind her, Lilah’s old reality may take center stage.  For this moment in time, she was still riding the coattails of the fairy tale. 

She had just drifted off to sleep and the Irish Enchanted Forest when her phone vibrated in her hand.  Jerking away with a soft swear, she squinted one eye at the screen to find a message indicating that the caller’s number was ‘Blocked’.

She flicked her thumb over the screen.  “Hello?”

“Hello, darlin’.”

Yeah, there was no mistaking that voice.  Lilah had heard him call a blue-million women “darlin’” over the last month.   Whether it was because he couldn’t remember names, or didn’t want to know them, she wasn’t sure, but that was definitely his favorite generic endearment.

“Richie.  How are you?”

“Glad to have this non-existent ass back on my own couch.  How about you?  Good trip?”

Just passing the time of day with Richie Sambora.  Sure, Lilah Jane.  THIS is reality.

“Fine, thank you.”

“Good… good.  So your boy is gonna send me the demo?”

Silently thanking him for keeping the conversation clicking along, she rubbed a hand over her forehead with a rueful smirk.  “Well, when I asked him that question, I believe his exact words were: ‘Do I look stupid to you?’.  So, I’m thinkin’ that’s a yes.  They’re just tryin’ to decide which one to send.”

“Excellent.  Tell him to send as many as he wants.  Very nice kid, by the way.  All kinds of polite and mannerly, just like his mama.”

“That’s always a relief to hear.  Thank you.  So…”

“So you want to know how I got hooked up with him,” he chuckled when she was hesitant to just blurt out the question foremost on her mind.  “Exactly the way you think I did.   TBJ rode to the airport with me yesterday and we were talking about you.  I mentioned that I should’ve gotten your kid’s name and number and Tony said he had both.  Simple as that.”

They were talkin’ about me?  How high school is it for me to ask what they were sayin’?

“It’s very sweet that you thought of Andrew, but please don’t put yourself out.”

“Darlin’, I like music and was curious.  That’s all.  I told Drew that I’m gonna give it a listen, but no promises beyond that.  I do this kinda thing all the time with aspiring musicians.”

There was really nothing else for Lilah to say.  He was a grown man, apparently doing exactly what he wanted to do.  All she could do was thank him and hope that Andrew wouldn’t get his hopes too high. 

She had just opened her mouth to voice her gratitude one more time when he interrupted with, “I don’t know what went down between you and TBJ, but you’re a sweetheart of a gal, Lilah.  I hope there’s one of those guys in Kentucky like you were talking about.  The ones that make Prince Charming look good.”

That vaguely specific enough for you, Lilah?  He rode with Tony, talked about me and he’s still wishing you luck finding a nice guy.  If you needed any extra confirmation, there it is.  It’s  not going to be Tony.

“Thanks Richie.  I’ll keep hopin’ you find a Jersey-rella.”

A raucous bark of laughter clattered over the phone line.  “What the fuck is a Jersey-rella?”

“Cinderella, Jersey-style.”  Dare she tell him those Hollywood-types weren’t doing him any favors?  No.  She didn’t know him well enough to be a buttinski.  “Isn’t that what all you Jersey Prince Charmin’s are lookin’ for?”

“I don’t know about all those other Jersey Prince Charmings, but this one wouldn’t mind.  I wouldn’t mind at all.”

63 - Do or Die

Rolling onto his right side, Tony reached out with a searching hand to find the bed empty.  He pushed onto his elbow while cracking sleepy eyes open, squinting at the rumpled pillow and blankets.

She’s gone.

Pushing all the way up to a seated position, he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, rubbing away the sleep haze and reached for his glasses. 

The light in the room was still dim, so he thought it was early yet.  A quick check of his phone confirmed that it was only seven o’clock, but he couldn’t remember what time she said her flight was leaving.  No matter when her plane was scheduled, his male pride had a hard time swallowing the fact that she’d simply left with no goodbye. 

He twisted around, the sheets tangling at his bare waist as he stretched for the bedside lamp.  The additional light brought with it a creepy sense of relief.  It allowed him to see that her suitcase was still standing wide-open by the wall, and her laptop and charging cord were strewn across the desk from her use of them yesterday afternoon. 

She’s in the shower.

Without stopping to analyze his thoughts or put a name to the reason for his sudden feeling lightness, the covers were thrown back and his feet hit the floor.  He only stopped to dip a hand into his duffel before quietly twisting the bathroom doorknob.

We’ve never done it in the shower….

✧✧✧

Lilah braced her forearm against the front wall of the shower, her head tipped back as the hot water sluiced over her shoulders and torso.  The pink tint of her skin probably meant she was scalding herself, but she didn’t much care.  The discomfort was a distraction from her aching head and heavy heart. 

 Don’t make this maudlin, Lilah Jane.   Distance yourself from the situation and get through it with your head held high.  Now…  Do you have everythin’ packed?  Boardin’ pass printed? 

She would get through it with her head held high.  If she could say goodbye and walk away it wouldn’t be so bad.  The ‘I love you’ thing, though…  That had her troubled.

No, she didn’t have to tell him and risk rejection.  A heartfelt thanks accompanied by a quick peck on the cheek would suffice before she scuttled out the door.  Then she could be on her way and slowly unpack her repressed thoughts and emotions somewhere over the Atlantic. 

But you’re hopin’ for…  What ARE you hopin’ for, Lilah Jane?  Love, marriage and Tony with a baby carriage?

A baby…

Pregnancy hadn’t been one of her favorite times of life and motherhood hadn’t come easy to her.  Maybe it was escapism, but she liked to think if she’d had a stronger partner, parenthood would have been more of a joint venture.  Poor Andrew got stuck with an overwhelmed Mom trying to do the best she could. 

Tony would be a strong partner.  His multiple phone calls to his nieces and nephews over the last couple of weeks had shown Lilah how involved he was in their lives and how he strived to be a positive role-model.  He was always asking if they were keeping up with their summer reading, being good for their moms and keeping their rooms clean.  The man deserved to be a father.

Then you should’ve offered him the opportunity to be one.

“Hey.” 

Lilah spun around with a squeal when the shower curtain was swept aside with an abrupt ‘whoosh’.  Slapping an open palm to her chest, she let her chin fall to her chest and tried to calm her rattled nerves. 

“You scared the hell out of me!” she muttered crossly, lifting her face to huff at him.  “You aren’t supposed to sneak up on naked women in the shower.  Haven’t you ever seen Psycho?”

His grin was unrepentant as he left his glasses on the vanity and joined her under the steaming spray. 

“Damn, that’s hot!”  Reaching around her to adjust the water temperature, Tony dropped a distinctive foil packet in the soap holder and bent to brush his mouth over hers murmuring, “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Stomach clenching into knots of desire, Lilah defensively pulled her arms into her torso, battling the instinct to slither them around his waist and kiss away the droplets that had beaded on his lips.  She was supposed to be preparing herself to leave him, not losing herself to him again.

“What are you doin’, Tony?”

Wet fingertips slid easily under the arms that she had tucked close to her body, gliding across the underside of her breast.   “What’s it look like I’m doin’, Lilah?  We’ve never had sex in the shower, and I don’t wanna leave here with regrets.”

Aren’t you glad you didn’t tell him, now?  He’s already movin’ on.

He touched his lips to first one corner of her mouth, then the other.  The kisses were steamy, yet sweet, barely tickling her skin.  It was just enough distraction to persuade her arms to go lax, giving him full access to her body.

“I thought you might like that idea,” he chuckled softly, still dotting her face with kisses even as his big palms skidded over the drenched flesh of her waist, torso and breasts.  A rough thumb abraded her nipple while that damnably delicious tongue of his coaxed its way into her mouth. 

Who the hell was she kidding?  She couldn’t resist whatever he had to offer and she opened herself, hungrily accepting him as the water prickled her skin.  His kiss was returned with fervor and she plastered herself against him, scraping her nipples against his as he palmed the weight of her bottom and agitatedly dug his fingers into the pliant flesh that quivered under his touch.

“Touch me,” she begged shamelessly, peppering kisses over the hidden dimple in his chin.  “Touch me everywhere.”

It was al the direction he needed.  After that moment, there wasn’t an inch of her that went neglected as he sought out the erogenous zones he’d become so proficient with during the last weeks.  The sensitive under-curve of her breast, the inside of her elbow, the crease of her thigh...Tony manipulated her body as effortlessly as the video board he’d commanded for most of his adult life.  It required no concentration or thought on his part to draw the purrs, whimpers and moans that choreographed the soundtrack of her sexuality. 

Under any other circumstance, Lilah would have shot off like a roman candle when his condom-sheathed hardness split her open.   This time, though…  She couldn’t let herself go.  She couldn’t keep her conscious self from knowing this was the last, last time.  She had to memorize every graze of his rough hands, every breath that heated her skin, every sound, every… everything.

“Come for me, Bluegrass.  Give it up for me once more.”

His seductive dictate caught her unaware, further solidifying that this was it.  The end. 

Her strangled sob came from nowhere as did pools of moisture under her eyelids.  It was all she could do to convert that pitiful sound into a moan that might – just might – pass for pleasure.  He didn’t slow in his efforts and Lilah buried her face in his shoulder and blessed the tepid shower spray that would disguise any obstinate tears leaking free. 

It felt so good...  He felt sooooo good...  But her mind just absolutely wouldn’t let her body go.  The damn stubborn grip on reality cruelly held her back when she wanted nothing more than to cross into the beautiful fairy tale land of Orgasmia, eager to complete her lovers’ tryst in the way God intended. 

The harder she tried, the further away she found herself.  Each conscious thought of ‘do it’ didn’t ‘do’ anything but fuel a desperation that made her even less responsive to his ministrations.  He kept egging her on, coaxing her.  Expecting the payoff he had every right to expect.  Why shouldn’t he?  He’d earned it dozens of times and, by God, he would earn it this time.

She had no other choice.  She wouldn’t disappoint him.

For the first time ever in his arms, Lilah faked it.

“Jersey!  Jersey!  Oh God…  Jersey…”

✧✧✧

Tony tossed his shorts into the battered duffel, the soft ‘plop’ very nearly the only sound in the hotel room, save Lilah’s own packing noises.  Both had been curiously quiet since their shower interlude.

Which is one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had.

He was man enough to admit it.  He fucked up the end of their affair.  What he’d expected to be one more hot and sexy romp added to repertoire had degraded into a soggy, lackluster encounter.

Because you couldn’t get her off and, rightfully so, it short-changed your own enjoyment. 

It was true.   Yes, his ultimate goal had been achieved, but he may as well have jacked himself for the amount of satisfaction he got. 

Tony was a smart man and, in the past month, he had swiftly racked up an encyclopedia’s worth of carnal knowledge on the woman he’d claimed as his lover.  He would lay odds with any bookie on knowing Lilah like nobody before him ever had.   He was intimately familiar with every subtle tell offered by her body as it approached, sailed through and wound down from an orgasm. 

And, the hard, cold fact was that they simply hadn’t been there this time.  The impassioned cries meant to convince him were nothing more than hollow words that rankled against his male ego.

If they had been headed anywhere beyond the next three hours, he would’ve pushed her against the shower wall and demanded to know why she’d cheated herself that way, and why she had cheated him.  Their no bullshit clause would’ve been invoked to its fullest until she leveled with him and replaced her faux-gasm with at least two more of the genuine article.

But they weren’t going anywhere except two different airplanes with two different destinations.  He was headed to L.A. just long enough to change clothes and hook up with his buddy, Troy, for the trek to the week-long Sturgis, South Dakota  bike rally.  Then the Hamptons for a week and a cross-country trip back to L.A.  She was on her way back to Lexington, Kentucky and the life she’d made there.

So he’d seen no benefit to making matters worse with a uncomfortable confrontation.  Tony had just taken the disappointment and added it to the melancholy already brewing between them.

“I think that’s it.” 

At her quietly proffered statement, he looked up from the wardrobe of neoprene cases that he was using to swaddle his camera equipment.  Her suitcase and laptop bag were parked by the door, leather jacket draped over the handle and her little purse slung over her shoulder.  She was wearing the same jeans and sunshine yellow shirt that she’d worn at the after-party that night in Dublin.

As it began, so it ends.

Lilah rocked back on her sneakered heels and held her chin proudly aloft.  Both hands were nervously tucked into her back pockets while her heart trilled at a rate fit only for a humming bird. 

Don’t you DARE have a damn heart attack, Lilah Jane!  Do not disgrace yourself by droppin’ dead at his feet!  Lordy, could anything be more embarrassin’?

Yes, actually, it could.  Stupidly declaring her love to a man who recoiled with disgust or whose eyes filled with pity.  Those could be infinitely more embarrassing than leaving this life with a thin thread of hope still intact. 

“Your plane leaves at noon?”

Not trusting the painfully contracting muscles of her throat to carry the confirmation, she simply nodded.  Tony’s plane didn’t leave until two o’clock, which meant Lilah would be going before he did.  She should be leaving for the airport now, in fact.

He returned the nod and guided his bare feet over the carpeting to stand before her.  When those wide man-hands cupped over her shoulders, she had to harshly order her eyelids to remain open and her face to remain passive.

“I can’t remember the last time I truly enjoyed being on tour.”  His hands slid away from her shoulders so that he could enfold her in his arms lingering hug.  Turning to touch his lips to the temple left bare by her ponytail, he murmured, “Thank you, Lilah.”

Sweaty palms slid from her pockets around his back, returning the hug at what she deemed an acceptable rate of return.  That meant without a clinging desperation, but with enough force to convey some level of emotion.  Face shielded from his view, this time she gave herself permission to hide behind shuttered eyelids as the tell-tale signs of tears began prickling in earnest.

No.  You will NOT cry like some pre-pubescent teen at a Justin Bieber concert.  That isn’t socially acceptable today, Lilah Jane. 

“I meant what I said last night,” he continued to speak quietly, holding her caged in the warm confines of his embrace.  “Don’t let anybody take that swagger from you.  Not Andrew, not Morgan, Joanna, Angel…  Nobody.  You deserve to wear it Lilah Jane Bennett and you wear it SO damn well.  Being sweet is good, but don’t forget to be sweet to yourself.  Promise me.”

Goddammit all to hell.  How am I supposed to not cry when the tough Jersey boy goes all tender on me? 

“Tony…”

His hold never abating, he gently shook her and his quiet timbre took on the slightest edge of a growl.  “Don’t change the subject!  Just promise me, Lilah.”

I love you.  My God, do you have any idea how much I love you?  I didn’t want to.  I didn’t plan to, but you understand me on a level that I’ve never experienced before.  How can I KEEP from loving you, no matter how much it hurts me…

“I promise,” she whispered, arms going a little tighter around his back as she came to a decision.  “We don’t do bullshit, right?”

His sudden stillness gave her a moment’s pause, but she’d stepped out now.  That first step was a big one and it scared the hell out of her, but there was no turning back.  She was going to finish what she started.  What had to be finished.

“No bullshit,” he agreed gruffly, his caged grip going lax and inviting a sliver of light and space between them.   Calling upon the fledgling piece of backbone she had managed to cultivate on the second half of this trip, she succeeded in not cowering away from his gaze.

“I can’t leave without telling you something.  Something that I should probably apologize for, because it never should have happened, but it did….”

Now or never.  Do or die.  Spit it the fuck out.

“I love you, Tony.”

Forever. 

Forever plus two weeks, three days, six hours and fifty-two minutes. 

That was exactly how long it would take Lilah to forget the shadow of terror that dropped over his face like a macabre veil.  It was a terror which was immediately replicated in the icy fingers that pierced her heart with five distinct holes – one for each icicle tip.

“I don’t expect anything from you,” she assured him hurriedly, keeping her voice soft so that it wouldn’t crack behind the contrived smile that she hoped actually looked like a smile instead of a painful grimace.  “I just couldn’t leave without telling you.”

Popping up on her toes, Lilah touched the corner of his mouth in a final, whisper-light kiss and backed out of his boneless grasp to shepherd her luggage together and open the door. 

If she had expected him to say “stop” or “don’t go” she would have been profoundly disappointed.  For the first time since meeting him, Tony was completely silent.

Still yet, she willed herself to turn and look into his chillingly blank face one last time.  One last time before they reached the final period after the last letter in the last word on the last page of her fairy tale dream.

“Thank you, Jersey.  For…  everything.  I’ll never forget you.”

62 - Squirmy

“Jersey, is it time to go yet?”  The sultry whisper tickled his ear, synchronizing itself with the fingernails that tickled his thigh.  “I’m gettin’ squirmy.”

“Is that anything like gettin’ horny?” he asked in a low voice.  Tony’s arm automatically snaked around her waist and his hungry fingers tunneled their way into the tight back pocket of her jeans. 

The necklaces commemorating the completion of two Bon Jovi tours had been given, photos had been taken and people were beginning to disperse.  He was itching to have more than his fingers in Lilah’s jeans.

“Exactly like it.”  She pushed her butt back into his hand, snuggling into his side.  “Will they miss you if we go?”

He couldn’t say he particularly cared if they did.  The way she’d been undressing him with her eyes and brushing against him with her lascivious touches…  Well, the Bluegrass swagger was out in full-force and it had him doing his own bit of squirming.

“No.  C’mon.”

He spun her around with the hand planted in her pocket, catching her against him when her feet got tangled.  The quiet giggle as she almost fell confirmed that she was suffering from no inhibitions tonight, and damn if that didn’t make him happy.  He was getting no-holds-barred Lilah tonight. 

In the cab, Tony couldn’t keep her octopus hands away from his junk and, honestly, he didn’t exert himself trying.  In fact he damn-near humped her in the back seat as she stroked him through the hard fly of his jeans.  His own hands did their fair share of octopussing, both under her shirt and along the denim seam at her crotch. 

The only problem with Uninhibited Lilah?  She didn’t care who heard her moans of pleasure when he touched the right spots.

“Shhh,” he coached, backing his hand from between her legs and splaying it across her stomach.  “Save it for the hotel, baby.  I don’t wanna share your screams.”

She pivoted onto her left hip, hooking his thighs with her right leg.  “If he doesn’t hurry, you’re gonna get lucky in the back of his cab.  Baby.”

Sweet Mary, Jesus and Joseph…

“How much did you have to drink tonight, Bacardi Bluegrass?”

Flipping herself around to straddle his lap, Lilah grinned against his lips right before she swiped them with one long, luscious lick.  “A lot.  Bet I won’t even flinch when I tell you how much I want you to fuck me.”

Tony’s stiffness went diamond-cutting hard.  Lilah didn’t do crude sex talk and he wasn’t prepared for how it turned him on to hear those two words coming at him in a slurred, Southern drawl. 

His eyes darted out the taxi window to judge how much time they had left in the back of this cab.  Finding that the hotel was still a few blocks in the distance, he nonetheless prodded her, unwilling to let the moment fizzle away between here and there. 

“That what you want?”  Wide-spread palms cupped the taut denim covering her ass and pulled her into his own taut denim.  “Because tonight is yours.  Anything you want…  all you gotta do is say.”

“Kisses,” she whispered, the fruit-tinged sweetness of her breath filling his nostrils.  “Your kisses make me crazy. That tongue…  Lordy, that tongue.”

He wasted no time in gripping the back of her head and forcing her close to accept the tongue that was already anticipating her flavor.  The rum and fruit juice had just pervaded his taste buds when he felt the throaty moan rattle her vocal cords.  Taking the sweetness for his own and mingling it with the bitter aftertaste of his beer, Tony greedily drank of her and the unlikely combination. 

She clung to him, arms latched around his neck and rhinestones pressed into his chest as she ground her breasts against him and rolled her hips.   Hint taken, his arms wound around her bringing their bodies flush together as he invaded and inspected each corner of his mouth.  He searched, plundered and pillaged as though she were hiding something from him – something he needed with an undefined desperation – and he wouldn’t allow her to keep it away.  He owned her and all her sweet secrets.

For one more night.

The trip from the cab to the elevator to their room was a blur of hormones, hushed words, hurried hands and hot kisses.  Lilah couldn’t keep her hands out of his shirt, couldn’t keep her fingers from twirling in the hair that covered the front half of his torso.  Occasionally, when they were plastered together in the deserted elevator, her fingers found a different playground on which to twirl.  It puffed up her alcohol-inflated ego to find him primed and rigid for her.

He wants me.  Me.  This bold-n-brassy version of me turns him on, and turnin’ him on turns me on.

The hotel door slammed shut and Lilah found herself pinned to the wall, wrists clamped against the pale paint beside her cheeks. 

“Tell me,” he demanded, only inches from her face.  His hips ground into the softness of her tummy and she made no effort to contain the sound of pleasure, her head falling back as she moaned loudly.  “Tell me what you want.”

Forcing her glassy eyes to focus, she immediately zeroed in on the masculine lips that were parted so that he could accommodate the oversized breaths he was inhaling.  Straining forward in his grip, she swiped her tongue over the bottom one, purring at its sleek texture. 

“I want to drive you crazy.”  The tip of her tongue came out to lick along one-half of his upper lip.  “I want you to lose your ever-lovin’ mind in your desperation to get inside my pants.”  She tasted the other half of that same lip.  “I want you to go caveman wild when you finally slide between my legs and fuck me the way you’re dyin’ to.”

“Sonofabitch…” he hissed before nipping at the underside of her jaw.  “You work that swagger, baby, because it looks fucking phenomenal on you.  Don’t let anybody take it away.”  Tony’s hips rolled into hers and he used his grip to shake her slightly, emphasizing his words.  “Do you hear me?”

Tell him, Lilah.  Tell him you love him.

No.  She couldn’t.  She absolutely refused to offer up a drunken confession of her deepest feelings, not knowing what that revelation might bring.  She wouldn’t allow this last night to be ruined something that could send it plummeting from the heavens to the earth like a fiery Hindenberg. 

You have to tell him, though.  You HAVE to.

Not now, she didn’t.  Now, she just wanted to revel in his incredibly intimate connection to her, the likes of which she’d never shared with another soul.  She would enjoy it for exactly what it was and what she could imagine it to be – without any qualifiers or spoilers.

“Swagger’s all yours tonight, Jersey boy.  It ain’t goin’ anywhere except to that big ole bed.”

He abandoned her wrists to whisk the Harley shirt over her head.  Lazily dragging his heated gaze over her leather demi-bra, painted-on jeans and sparkly boots, he threw it aside, growling with a possessiveness that couldn’t be mistaken.  Tony liked what he saw and he was claiming it for himself.  . 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against the bare tops of her breast, thumbing the rosy nipples from their ‘confinement’.

“Mm.  That’s what all the boys with beer goggles say.”

“No.”  One nipple popped free and he puckered his lips, blowing it into a painfully tight bead while he used his fingers to coerce the other one into compliance.  “I only had a couple.  Didn’t wanna risk being too shit-faced to get my dick up tonight.”

A soft chuckle transcended into a strangled groan when the whiskers around his mouth abraded the soft underside of her breast.  “I’d say that’s mission accomplished.  Your dick is definitely up, but are ya gonna do somethin’ with it besides sport it like a trophy?”

“Bare your smart little ass and I’ll show you what I’m gonna do with it.”  A strong arm curled around her waist and spun her toward the bed.  When the mattress’s edge hit the back of her knees, Lilah collapsed into it, and let her back connect the bedspread. 

From beneath heavy lids, she peered at the sexy man hovering above her as he jerked off his button-down bowling shirt without coming anywhere near the buttons.  The gorgeous expanse of all-natural man-scaping came into fuzzy focus and Lilah reached for him, anxious to feel it’s seductive abrasion against her tingling skin.

“No.”  A gentle swat shooed her hands away and he reached for his belt buckle with a stern look.  Toeing off his boots he rumbled, “I told you to get naked.  Then you can play.”

His voice was undeniably commanding yet still held a come-hither quality that ran rivers of shivers up and down her bare back.  Playing didn’t describe what she wanted to do to this man.  She was dead-President serious in her aim to make him lose control.

Two fingers up her back had the bra clasp released and it formed a shapeless puddle of leather in the floor.  Standing, she flicked open the button at her waist, rasping down the zipper as she commanded in her own come-hither voice, “Tell me what you want tonight.  If I were your whore, what would you pay me to do?”

“You’re not my whore,” he countered blandly, kicking his pants and boxers aside and peeling away his socks before helping to peel away her pants.  His finger slid down the crevice of her bottom as he shoved the waistband down past her hips. 

But if you asked, I would be.

“No, but that still doesn’t tell me what you want.”

Her feet bare, her jeans piled on top of his and both of them – finally – naked, he pulled her close running those wide-palms up and down her backside from shoulder to thigh as he plastered himself to her. 

“I’m not going to tell you.”  He walked her the two short steps that put the mattress behind her knees again.  A light shove into her ribs propelled her back onto the bed while he swiped the moisture from his tip and reached to the nightstand where a condom awaited.  “I’m gonna show you.”

The condom landed on her stomach, still in its package and he nudged her dangling legs with his knee, silently ordering her to scoot back.  When she did, capturing the small foil packet in her palm, Tony shoved her knees apart and crawled between them.  A shrewdly teasing finger dredged through the heat drenched wetness of her folds as he stood on his knees and silently rolled his hips toward her, offering her his erection.

Lilah had never put a condom on a man before.  Usually she shied away from the task that seemed like a rude interruption in their sexual romps.  But when he tossed his glasses aside and gazed expectantly at the square packet still in her hand, she felt an uncommon thrill of anticipation. 

Purposefully locking his gaze into hers, she licked her lips slowly and brought the condom wrapper to her mouth, tearing the edge with her teeth.

“That a girl.  You know exactly what the fuck I want, my intuitive little beauty.”

The packaging floated away unnoticed and Lilah sat up with a frown of concentration crinkling her face.  She held the condom in one hand and reached for him with the other, guiding him closer with a deliberately calculated tug on his hardness.  When he was in proper position, Lilah inclined her head, bathing the weeping tip with a leisurely mop of her tongue. 

His hands immediately delved into her loose waves, whether to  haul her closer or keep her away was uncertain.  She allowed him his hold, focusing intently on squeezing the thin latex end and situating it at the right angle over his thickness. Carefully … little by little… she provocatively rolled the protection down his length until he was fully sheathed and straining against her grip.  Before she withdrew calling her mission complete, she took a moment to slide her hand further and cup him with a gentle squeeze that had him snagging her wrists to escape.

“Not this time,” he rasped, twisting around and falling to his back, bringing her along.  Pushing at her hip, Tony encouraged her to straddle him.

She hadn’t been on top yet, even though he’d tried to convince her a time or two.  Self-consciousness over her imperfect body and gravity-challenged breasts had enabled her to find ways to distract him, or maneuver them into a less exposing position.

But tonight…  If he wanted it, he would get it.  With swagger.

That’s how she came to gamely throw her leg over his waist and sink down onto him, all-the-while crooning how she was going to fuck him until his eyes rolled back in his head.  Until he was completely drained and unable to move. 

Little did she know it was going to be she who was drained and unable to move.  When he filled her, the sensation was intensified by the alcohol and her subsequent loss of restraint.  She let herself fly by rocking her hips, bouncing up and down, throwing herself forward onto him.  There wasn’t enough motion.  Not enough for the greedy woman she was with him, in this state.  Lilah gasped loud enough to rattle the walls as she rode him with every ounce of zeal and passion that she possessed.   

Swiveling her hips, rolling, rocking, and pounding against the man that was grunting nonsensical words beneath her as his hands roamed her body.  The masculine paws alternately clutched at her hips, cradled her ribs, roamed her back, kneaded her breasts and gripped her bottom until he roared out a mighty, “Fuuuuuck!” and took her hurtling over the edge of the edge of the earth with him.

Lilah collapsed against his chest, rising and falling with his gasping breaths and hers.  If she never had sex again – ever – there was no better finale.  She could go forward and live in a contented celibacy knowing that she had undoubtedly experienced the best sex that life had to offer.

There was no lover in the world like Tony Bongiovi.

61 - Party On

“Can I buy you a drink, darlin’?” 

Richie edged up to the bar alongside the girl who’d become a familiar face in the past weeks.  He hadn’t had a lot of in-depth conversation with her, but she was pleasant enough to shoot the breeze with.  Seeing as TBJ didn’t have his hand planted on her ass for a change, Richie figured he would take the opportunity to do just that.

“Already on it, old man,” David interjected, plunking an umbrella-adorned glass onto the bar in front of her. 

Richie puckered his lips and shrugged carelessly, signaling the bartender for a Diet Coke before looking from Dave back to Lilah.  “Okay.  Can I buy you some Mace, darlin’?  To get rid of this pest?”

A brilliant smile lit her face, accompanied by a giggle that practically spilled from her lips.  Being the seasoned alcohol-veteran that he was, he would gauge that “Bluegrass” was somewhere between three and five drinks into her evening, depending on her alcohol tolerance. 

“Aw, he’s alright as long as you don’t take anything he says seriously,” she defended the curly-haired man with a friendly pat on the arm.  “Isn’t that right, Rabbi Bryan?”

Both men chortled at her sweet, seemingly innocent question.  The wink she tossed Richie’s way told him that she could hold her own with the Jewish Jokester.

The girl has more spunk than I gave her credit for. 

“Oops…  As lovely as it’s been Miss Lilah Jane, I see the Lisbion Swim Team has joined the party.”  David’s bushy eyebrows waggled up into his hair.  “They like men.  Who knew?”

“That’s Lisbonian, you dumb fuck,” Richie informed him with a grudgingly amused snort.  With David you never knew if he was being serious or deliberately creating an opportunity to be a comedian.  “Being in Lisbon doesn’t make you a Lisbion – or a lesbian for that matter.”

“Whatever.  They’re hot and they like blond guys.”  He wrapped his goon arms around Lilah in a quick hug.  “In case I don’t catch up with you again, have a safe trip back to the sticks.”

The hug was returned with enthusiasm and she beamed another one of those smiles that had the power to draw attention from her Bedazzled cleavage to her face.  “It’s been a pleasure gettin’ to know you.  Thanks for your kindness.”

“Darlin’, that’s smartass, not kindness.”

“Shut up, Sambora,” the keyboardist sniped with a swiftly placed backhand to the shoulder.  After following it up by flipping Richie the bird, he transformed from prick to prince and turned to bow graciously to the lady.  “The pleasure was mine, Kentucky.  Take care.”

When David slipped away, Richie sipped his Diet Coke thoughtfully, watching the brunette’s sparkling eyes dance around the room,taking in its shadowy occupants.  “So what’s up next for you, Bluegrass?”

“Me?” She swung those sparkling eyes around to look at him, her smile never fading as she absently toyed with the pink paper umbrella from her drink.  “I turn in my pumpkin tour bus for a boring old car and go back to my life.”

“Oh yeah, Cinderella?  You didn’t find a Prince Charming on that tour bus?”

She daintily sipped the remnants of her drink and slid the empty glass toward the bartender, silently requesting another.  A roving strobe light glinted off of her Harley logo as she planted her elbows into the padded leather rail that edged the bar.

“Not interested in any Prince Charming.”

“Every girl wants Prince Charming, darlin’.”  He knew that for a friggin’ fact, because he evidently fit the bill at first glance.  It was only upon closer inspection that women found him to more of a toad than a prince.

“Nope,” she firmly denied, twirling the straw in her freshly delivered Umbrella Special.  “The only things Prince Charming is good for is being charming – or a royal ass.  If I were looking for a guy…”  Her eyes flicked over the sea of people to a spot near the center.  There,  standing out like a beacon in a white shirt, was Matt – flanked by both of his brothers.  “I’d be more interested in the guy who makes Prince Charming look good.  You know.  The guy who polishes the armor, waters the horse and does the actual work.  Those guys are the real princes.”

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind as to who and what she was talking about.  TBJ was the guy paid to make his brother look good on camera and he worked his ass off every show to make it happen in spades. 

“So go after him then.”

Draining the second half of her drink, she returned it to the bar and smiled ruefully.  “Guys like that don’t want to be a part of the fairy tale.  Besides…  Fairy tales aren’t real.  They’re just an escape from reality.”

Richie furrowed his forehead, studying her intently.  “You telling me your fairy tale is over?”

“Nope.  I’m not a fairy tale kinda girl.  I had a great vacation and got to meet some amazin’ folks in the process.  What more could I possibly ask for?”

That was a load of crap.  She would be ecstatic as all hell if TBJ dragged her from that pumpkin tour bus to a pumpkin Harley.  Richie swept his gaze over her from head to toe, easily envisioning her in a Cinderella ball gown right down to the glass-

“What the fuck?”  He leaned forward, trying to get a better glance at her feet.  The damn boots she was wearing had rhinestone heels.  If that wasn’t fuckin’ poetic justice right there!  “Those are some kick-ass shoes, baby.”

The perpetual smile went a little goofy as the rum juice deluged her bloodstream.  Lifting her foot, she twisted her ankle so that the light bounced off of them.  “Tony gave them to me.”

Annnnd…. this whole fairy tale thing is tied up with a nice, neat glass-slipper bow. 

✧✧✧

“She looks awful comfortable huddled up there with Sambora,” Jon observed, smiling into his wine glass as he tipped it up to swallow.  He felt good having this last show behind them and heading into a break, so he was indulging in one of his favorite past-times:  provoking his siblings.

Disappointingly, Tony declined to rise to the bait, merely shaking his head with a laugh.  “And?  What do I care who she’s talking to?”

Jon nudged an elbow into Matt, tossing his chin at their brother.  “Either he really doesn’t mind walking away from this broad tomorrow, or he’s finally figured out she’s his girlfriend and isn’t going any-damn-place.  Which you say it is?”

The youngest Bongiovi looked down on his big brothers with a knowing nod.  “Girlfriend.”

“You think?”  Jon propped a fist on one cocked hip, with a thoughtful tilt to his head.  “Dottie says yes, but…  I dunno….”

“Both of ya shut the hell up,” the darkest of the three ordered, menacingly pointing the neck of his beer bottle at them while pushing his camera strap higher on his shoulder.  “I know whose hotel room she’ll be in tonight.  Without a doubt.  The rest of that shit is you two being busybodies because your wives are damn-well nosy.”

Jon and Matt exchanged a ‘hell no’ look.  “We aren’t pussy-whipped boys doing our wives’ bidding.”

“Oh, so they’ve made you as nosy as they are.  Yeah.  That’s better.”

“Hey,” Matt bristled, shoving at Tony’s shoulder with a loose fist.  “You wanna be pussy-whipped so bad you can’t stand it.  You always have.”

From where Jon stood, that was a pretty fair assessment.   He’d seen his brother’s thinly veiled looks of envy when Dottie was laying down the law and telling Jon just how it was going to be.  Same with Desiree riding ‘roughshod’ over Matt.  The men had been raised by a strong woman, so it was no wonder they were drawn to the same in their mate.

 Now that wasn’t to say that they were truly pussy-whipped, because for every ounce of strength their mother possessed, their dad had two.  He simply knew when to use it and when to let his wife have her way.  

“Pick your battles,” John, Senior had always counseled his sons.  “If it don’t make a shit in the end, don’t waste time trying to win.  Marriage isn’t about breaking her spirit or bending her will to yours.  It’s about appreciating your individual strengths and finding a way for them to complement one another so that you’re stronger together than apart.”

Jon felt like it was a lesson that he, personally, had learned well.  His intimate familiarity with the paternal lesson was also the reason he knew Tony would walk away from Lilah Bennett.  She wasn’t strong.  Not the way a Bongiovi woman should be. 

“You’re a moron,” Tony told their ‘little’ brother, his eyes never straying far from the bar that Lilah and Richie were still propping up. 

“That girl is too meek to whip anybody.”

“You don’t know her like I do,” Matt announced loftily, slinging back his rum and Coke with a grunt of appreciation for the alcohol splashing down his esophagus.  “She’s not as meek as she puts on.”

Both Jon and Tony’s heads whipped up with matching looks of confusion.  Jon had never even seen him talk to Lilah.

“What the fuck do you know about her?”  Tony snorted, apparently just as disbelieving.  “You’ve talked to her once?  Maybe twice?  You a fuckin’ mind-reader now, or somethin’?”

“You just can’t stand thinkin’ that maybe I know something you don’t fuckin’ know.”

Stepping in before it became a pissing contest, Jon suggested, “Why don’t you just tell us what the fuck you know?”

“Yeah.”

Shrugging one beefy shoulder, Matt’s eyes nonchalantly scanned the room.  “You know Sully… and his women.”

His brothers both nodded. 

Sully was one of the security guys who usually worked the front perimeter of the stage and Jon thought he did an outstanding job.  The good-looking guy had pulled more than one crazy woman down before they latched onto Jon’s ankle like a damn rattlesnake.   And, more often than not, the ones he pulled down came back to the hotel – or bus, or backstage or anyplace else he deemed appropriate – with him.  He considered it a ‘perk’ of his job.

“Well, he was telling me about this blonde chick from Dusseldorf.  I guess she asked about you, T, and who your girlfriend was.  Sully told her that he didn’t think you had a girlfriend and that seemed to surprise the blonde.   She wouldn’t tell him what had been said other than Lilah ripped her and her friend a new one for a conversation she’d overheard them having about you.”    Again, one beefy shoulder inched upward.  “Doesn’t sound so meek to me.”

Well, well.  Maybe she’s got more spunk than I gave her credit for.

“She’s not meek, she’s… “  Tony shook his head with a chuckle, spotting the topic of their conversation winding through the crowd while holding a fruity-looking drink over her head.  “…sweet.  Considerate, I guess.”

“Well if it isn’t the handsomest man in the room and his two brothers,” she sing-songed over the music that had begun pulsing quietly through the room and sliding her arm around Tony’s waist to greet him with a warm grin.  “Hi, handsome.”

“I can get you kicked out of the fan club for that kinda shit,” Jon drawled, holding his empty glass up to a server, who promptly tried to replace it.  Declining the refill, he simply off-loaded the empty glass.  “You’re hell on my ego, Lilah.”

“Pfft!”  Her over-bright eyes and flushed cheeks told them all just how much she’d enjoyed the party so far.  “What a crock.  You don’t give a damn what I say.”

Maybe she’s more perceptive than I gave her credit for, too.

“Is that a camera diggin’ into my hip or are you just glad to see me?”  Barely registering on her radar, Lilah had already turned her attention away from Jon to openly flirt with Tony.  Her eyebrows were dancing to the tune of her lascivious smile. 

“Both.” 

His brother’s ravenous look of hunger made him a little nauseous.  He didn’t need to be witness to this.  Seriously.

“That’s our cue to get the hell out, Matty,” he announced with a hearty clap to Matt’s shoulder.  “I’ve got some necklaces to award.”

“Hey!  No, wait…”  Lilah separated herself from Tony.  “It’s the last party of the tour.  The infamous Bongiovi brothers should be commemorated for posterity’s sake.  Lemme borrow your camera, Jersey.  I want y’all to have a picture.”

Tony relinquished his coveted camera without a peep and Jon sighed, resigning himself to yet another photo.  Positioning himself between the other two men, he placed a hand in each of their backs and produced the perfunctory smile that would pass for sincere.

Tucking her drink on the floor between her sparkly boots – sparkly boots? – she lifted the camera to her face and fired off a shot.  The flash let Jon know he could proceed with his evening.

“No, no, no!  Don’t move,” she hurriedly blurted.  “Matt, your smile was good, but Jon and Tony were lookin’ at me like I had a possum on my head.  Lemme take another one.  Matt, you get in the middle and make them look alive.”

Shuffling around as requested, the tallest of the three agreeably draped his arms around the others.

“Okay, good.  Now…  Say ‘Lisbions’!” 

Matt cackled, and Tony threw out a rocker’s hand gesture while Jon silently kept his professional smile in place.

Lisbions?  Christ a’mighty.  That sounds like something Lemma would say.

“Okay, that’s good,” Lilah approved after snapping the photo, giving the guys permission to move before stooping to retrieve her drink and returning Tony’s hardware. 

Then, before Jon realized her intent, she had whirled around and pulled him into a quick embrace, immediately following up with the same for Matt.  Hugs complete, she returned to their brother's side and offered a beaming smile, saying, “I wish you both luck, love and lust.  It’s been… surreal meeting you.  Thank you.”

That left Jon in an awkward spot as Matt wished her the same.  Seeing as he and Lilah had gotten off to a viciously rocky start, he felt like he should say something a little more, but…

She’s Tony’s fuck buddy.  There’s no need for some contrived apology and speech.  Be polite and find a suitable cliché for the occasion.

“Take care, Lilah.  We’ll see you out there on the road.”

60 - Shiny Smarts

“Morgan or Angel?” Tony casually inquired, approaching the bed just as she closed the laptop. scrubbing a towel over his wet hair.  He let the damp terrycloth drape around his neck, keeping an eye on her while reaching for his watch from the nightstand. 

Lilah’s shoulders had gone abruptly rigid and she’d frozen mid-yawn when she heard his voice.  He thought it odd, because she’d emailed her online friends in his presence several times over the last couple of weeks.  She’d even gone so far as to tell him a little about them.

He knew Morgan and her husband lived in the Northwest US and that Angel was from Down Under.  He also knew that the two women were near polar-opposites, differing in both personality and physical appearance.  From what Lilah said, the only thing they seemed to have in common was a love for his brother.  What she didn’t say was that they also shared a love for Lilah, but he was comfortable making that educated guess all on his own. 

Her reaction was made even stranger by the fact that she had to clear her throat before answering.  “No.  Andrew.  I was remindin’ him to pick me up at the airport tomorrow night.”

That explains it.  She misses her kid.

He folded a leg under him and dropped to the bed, trying to get a peek at the eyes she had trained on the rumpled sheets.  Palming her thigh, Tony made an appropriately sympathetic noise.  “Bet you’ll be glad to see him.”

Eyelashes fluttered several times in quick succession and he knew he was right.  Mama Lilah was feeling a little emotional and homesick for her boy.

“Of course I will,” she declared quietly, brushing fingertips beneath her eye to remove the moisture that had willfully escaped. 

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you, too.”  This heaviness was a little much for their last day together.  It was time to switch their attention to fun things – things that didn’t include the way his stomach coiled into knots upon seeing her tears.  “I assume you’ve heard there’s a wrap party tonight for the band, crew and some VIPs?”

“Mm-hmm.  I think I heard Jon and Richie talkin’ about it.”

“Were you planning to go?”

Laughing, she traced a fingernail through the hair on his forearm from wrist to elbow.  “Am I invited, or was that a polite way of askin’ if I was goin’ to crash?”

Tony counted that as one of the stupidest things he’d ever heard.  The two of them had practically been joined at the hip since Dusseldorf.

“I’m going, so of course you’re invited.”

She inclined her head, dark hair shielding her face as she shook it back and forth.  Without being able to see her face, he couldn’t tell if it was sadness, disgust or denial that prompted the action. 

“What?” he asked when she didn’t seem inclined to offer an explanation. 

“Jersey,” she said patiently, lifting her face.  “You assumed I’d heard about party.  You can’t really expect me to know I’m invited if you didn’t actually take the time to tell me about it…  Can you?”

“I told you I’m going.  You’ve been everyplace else with me lately.”

“You told me you were going, like… two seconds ago.”  Closing her eyes briefly, she smothered a yawn and this time she was smiling when she shook her head.  “It doesn’t matter.  Since I’m invited, yes, I’d like to go and say goodbye to everyone.”

A noticeable aura of failure clouded his head, giving Tony the distinct impression that he’d fucked something up.  She was upset that he hadn’t asked her to be his date to the party?  Or that he assumed she would be?

You haven’t pulled a single punch with her since you met her.  For Christ’s sake, why would you start now?

So, with a slight variation, he put voice to the questions he had just asked himself.  “What’s the deal, Bluegrass?  Are you ticked that I didn’t ask you out on a date?  Or that I’m taking you for granted?”

“For a smart man, you can be an idiot sometimes,” she chortled softly, picking up his hand and flipping it over to trace patterns in the palm with her fingertip.  “I’m not ticked at all.  All I was trying to say was that if you didn’t tell me about the freakin’ party, there wasn’t much logic in assumin’ I’d know I was invited.”

Everybody had been talking about it.  Of course she would have known…

Jeez, man, just apologize and move on.  These are minutes of your life you’re never gonna get back.  Why waste them on stupid shit?

“Lilah…” he sighed, inverting his hand so he could settle her palm against his and lock his fingers around it.  “There’s a wrap party after the show tonight, and you’re invited.  Do you want to go with me?”

She rained one of her brightest smiles on him and the tinkling laugh that accompanied it was a sound he’d forever associate with Lilah.  He loved her laugh.  “I do.  Thank you for askin’.”

“Think nothing of it,” he assured her with a grin, tugging her forward for a quick kiss.  He was going to miss kissing on her whenever the mood struck him.  She never turned him away, always meeting his lips with an eager smile.  He could count on one hand the number of women who had made him feel as wanted as she did – with fingers left over.  “Wear the peek-a-boo Harley shirt?  And those tight jeans you bought in Athens?”

“Okay,” she agreed readily enough, but a little frown puckered between her eyebrows.  “Now I really wish I’d gotten those boots we saw yesterday.  They’d be perfect for this.”

As she sighed and resigned herself to wearing the sparkly sandals she usually wore to the shows, Tony eased off of the bed.  Extending his hand for the middle dresser drawer, he drew it slowly open.

He knew exactly which boots she was talking about:  ankle-high with chunky, tapered heels that were coated in rhinestones.  While the foot casing was black leather, there was rhinestone-crusted black lace that made up the ankle casing.  The minute they’d walked into the little downtown Lisbon shop, Lilah had been drawn to them like a magnet, but refused to buy them for herself. 

Sending her on ahead under the pretense of having dropped his wallet in the shop, Tony had bought the boots and arranged for delivery to their hotel.     The way she loved shiny shit, he couldn’t help but want her to have something to remember him – and this trip – by.  Yes, he’d taken hundreds of pictures on their bike jaunts around Europe that he would give her, but this was…  shiny shit.  It held a special place in her heart.

“You mean these boots?”  he asked with a deceptive nonchalance, the sparkly treasures dangling from the mere tips of his fingers. 

Lilah slapped a hand to her mouth and her eyes went as round as a golf ball.  The strangled squeal that stole out of her clamped lips had him grinning like a dumbass and patting himself on the back. 

“Nobody’s ever bought me shoes before!”  she exclaimed breathily, holding her hands out to accept the gift.  The way she stroked the light-refracting heels gave Tony the vibe that he was intruding on a private – or a religious – moment. 

Women and shoes.  What the fuck?

“Well, you DO live in Kentucky.  I hear shoes aren’t really a thing in that part of the world.”

She flipped him off without ever letting go of the boots.  That was a move he’d never seen from Lilah.  Too much time with him had plainly corrupted her if she’d taken to snapping off a Jersey salute. 

Good thing she’s getting sprung tomorrow, then.

She dropped one shoe to the mattress, unzipping the other one and tucking her bare foot inside.  Twisting her ankle to admire the shine, she glanced up at him with the widest grin he’d ever seen.  The woman was practically glowing over a pair of damn shoes.  “I love these, but I assume you know that.”

“I had a sneaking suspicion,” he drawled wryly, butt parked against the dresser as he watched her play footsy dress-up.

With both boots on, she crossed her legs, twisting her other ankle so she could fully appreciate the glitzy tackiness on that heel as well.  “You’re going to do positively wicked things to me tonight, aren’t you?  This your way of softenin’ me up and ensurin’ my receptiveness?”

Tony snorted.  “Jesus, doesn’t anybody ever get you a gift just because?  Yeah, I’m gonna do wicked things to you, but at this point I’m pretty damn sure you want me to.  Bribery never crossed my mind.”

“Really?”

She was legitimately surprised that he didn’t want something in return for those bedazzled booties.  It almost made him mad.  Not at her, but at the dumb fuckers she’d been married to.  Did they not have the faintest idea of the right way to treat a woman like Lilah?

“Yeah, really.  You might find an ocean of umbrella drinks floating your way tonight, just because I’m always trying to shake loose an extra inhibition or two from you.  But there are no strings attached to the Rhinestone Cowboy boots.”

Tony sought to convey his sincerity with an unwavering gaze and Lilah met it readily enough.  The funny blue-green irises that he’d never seen before her, and would likely never see after, regarded him thoughtfully. 

“I’m really, really bad at acceptin’ gifts and I certainly never expected you would do anything like this.  It makes it both lovelier and more awkward for me. So…  I guess I’ll just say thank you.”

“You’re welcome.  Now…  back stage or out front tonight?”

Spinning on  her butt, she twirled so that her feet hit the floor with a bedazzling ‘thunk’ and came to join him.  She hooked her thumbs into his belt loops and tipped her face up to his.  “Out front if that’s okay.  It’s the last one for who knows how long and I want the full concert experience.  But…”  she squinted one eye as though she were throwing a grenade and ducking for cover.  “Could I play the ‘sleepin’ with video director’ card and come in through the back?  So I don’t have to fight the crowd?”

Tony smirked and lazily dropped his open palms over her shoulders, pleasantly surprised.  Typically, he had to specifically offer her the option of coming through the back before she would even consider it.  More times than he could count, Lilah had queued up with the locals to get her ‘right’ place in the Diamond Circle, because God knew she wouldn’t ask him for a damn thing outside of bed.

Hey.  That’s a minor miracle in itself.  And it ain’t all that bad, bub.

 “The last day and your true colors are finally showing, huh Bluegrass?  You’ve been using me all along.”

A miniature thundercloud swept in, blanketing her face and taking up residence in the form of an astonished frown.  “Yeah, that’s it.  I’ve waited two months to play my trump card.  Ya caught me, Sherlock Holmes.”

He couldn’t keep the grin off his face.  She was pretty damn cute.  Until….

“Ouch!”  He slapped the hand away that had just pinched the hell out of his nipple.  “Goddammit, Lilah, you’re supposed to leave those alone.”

“And you’re not supposed to be mean,” she volleyed back with a little huff of annoyance.  “You know how that crap bothers me.”

He did.  Jesus, he did.  She would rather die than have anybody think she was hooked up with him for special favors.  After the first week, he’d gotten sick of hearing about it and dared her to say it one more time.  Smart girl that she was, she took him at his word.  This was the first word she’d breathed about it since then.

Tony emitted a tiny growl and hauled her against his chest.  “And you know how that nipple crap bothers me, but I’ll buy you a drink or six tonight, just the same.  To make it up to you.”  Inclining his head, he landed a soft peck on her lips and conjured up a wicked leer.    “Then YOU can make it up to ME.”

The thundercloud was swept away by the rays of sunshine that broke through her eyes.  Whatever the handful of flaws he found in Lilah, her perpetual eagerness to do the naked Mambo with him made every single one of them insignificant.

“Well…” she sighed, relaxing against him and combing through his chest hair with a single French-manicured nail.  “How about I buy my own drink or six and we’ll make it up to each other?”

Had he mentioned what a smart girl she was?