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.