Part One

Terri was having a shit day.

She overslept, and she NEVER overslept. A freak storm overnight knocked out power killing her Sanyo, and her internal alarm clock failed her. The last time that happened, she was pregnant. She knew that wasn’t the case today – knew it for a goddamned fact. Her last “date” went south almost from the minute she opened the door to him, and that was near on a month ago now. Now she had dramatically raised her standards. She joked to her best friend Lori that the next man she would allow to get in her pants was going to look, sound, and act like Jon Bon Jovi. If she was going to have a suck-ass date, it was going to be with someone beautiful, and that man, in her mind, was the absolute epitome of exquisite perfection.

So, rushing around the house trying to get ready for work, she tripped on a shoe in the middle of the floor and twisted her ankle. That wouldn’t have pissed her off so much except it was one of her brand new deep blue Prada sling-backs, and it was chewed all to hell.

“JOVI!” she yelled, swearing as she hopped to the kitchen to get some ice for her ankle. “If I didn’t love that fucking little dog so much, I’d…” she stopped her rant as an adorable puppy trotted into the kitchen, cocked her head, and pissed on the tiles.

“God DAMN it, Jovi, I haven’t even worn these yet, and fuck baby, you know not to piss on the floor,” she admonished.

Jovi trotted over, took the shoe out of Terri’s hand, and promptly dropped it in the puddle of pee before sashaying out of the kitchen. Terri sat down at the table and laughed. That was all she could do. Laugh or cry, and she had just finished her makeup, and was not about to have to re-do it.

Shaking her head, she grabbed her messenger bag, slung it across her body, and headed out to the carport. She fired up her pickup, and the throaty purr of the engine made her smile. Four miles later, the purr turned into a choke-on-a-furball cough, and Terri sighed. She got the truck because her car had finally decided to give up the ghost. She had babied her car until there was nothing else she could do but let it die a dignified death. She fell in love with this truck right away, and bought it without even taking it for a test drive. She just had to hear the growl of the motor, and she was lost. She absolutely… loved… this… truck. The fact that the pickup was sputtering when the engine downshifted meant Terri’d have to pay some grease monkey a boatload of money she had earmarked for something else.

Like new Prada sling-backs.

Terri hit every blasted red light on the way to the radio station where she worked. At the light she was stopped at now, she mused that she couldn’t write a more shit-filled morning if she tried, and she could write damned near anything – writing was one of her passions. For as long as she could remember, Terri had been writing. Different types of things: poetry, plays, stories. Her recent subject, the last few years or so, was Bon Jovi – Jon in particular.

There was just so much material there. Aside from the stunning sex appeal and philanthropy, not to mention the music and the tours, his life was different and interesting. When she heard interviews, his speaking voice washed over her like a gentle waterfall. When he sang, well there was really nothing quite like it. When she heard about the separation from his wife, she indulged in a little ‘what if’. That game was a favorite pastime, and it was natural to play that game with celebrities in the spotlight. That the current celeb-du-jour was Jon made it all the more fun to play. These musings often turned themselves around and around in her head until they became stories.

Terri had had one of her stories published – she had taken one of her Jon Bon Jovi fan fictions, retooled it a bit, and submitted it to a publisher. They bit, and her book was out there for the whole world to see. Many of her friends had bought copies, and laughed with her over the editing miss on page 153, where the hero, “Sin”, is still called “Jon”. Most of them hadn’t even noticed, because they were substituting “Jon and Richie” for “Sin and Robbie” anyway.

When the light turned green, an overzealous driver crossed in front of her, missing the bumper by less than an inch. “Three fucking blocks to go,” she whispered under her breath. When she got to work, she was in a pisser of a mood.

She hit the studio with three minutes to spare. Barely enough time to get her weather and traffic reports compiled before she recorded them. There were all manner of accidents and other traffic snafus today, so Terri was hopping. Her phone line was ringing, with “helpful” and less-than-helpful listeners calling in with the latest information. Terri dutifully took it all down, and asked one caller how the hell telling people that there was “an accident at the Shop-Rite” would be helpful. “A street, a town, SOMETHING,” she bellowed before disconnecting the call. Terri took a deep breath and assumed her professional voice, and wrapped all the information she had into the recordings she needed to make.

When she sat back to take a breather, the back of her chair let go, and she had to grab onto the console to keep from going ass over elbow onto the floor. She knocked her bottle of water off the console and it crashed to the floor, where the plastic cracked and dribbled water all over the place.

Yeah, for sure, Terri was having a shit day.

Part Two

Jon’s day wasn’t going much better. Bad weather kept them in Canada longer than he anticipated, and when they had finally landed back stateside, he learned that their hotel reservations were all screwed up. He berated his assistant until she was in tears, then felt like shit for making her cry. But, damn it, it was her JOB to make sure that all these details were taken care of.

He was sitting in the back of an SUV with Richie while the sobbing assistant argued, pleaded, and negotiated with the hotel manager to get them the suites they had requested.

“Man, you were a little hard on Danielle, weren’t you?” Richie asked softly.

Jon just shot him an icy glare that told his friend to shut the fuck up. “Don’t start in on me, Rich, I’m not in the mood.”

Richie just smiled. “I know what would cheer you up.” He reached for his laptop.

Jon groaned. “Bro, you have got to be kidding me,” Jon said. “You’ve been trying to get me to read that shit for months now, and I told you, I am NOT interested.”

Richie had discovered a whole new genre of what he’d loosely call literature: fan fiction. Earlier in the year, an anonymous fan had posted an excerpt from a steamy story on the boards at bonjovi.com. Jon had been outraged, and had demanded that Obie have someone take care of it, and was not impressed when the author of that particular bit of porn pleaded with the board moderators to delete the post.

Obie promptly ignored Jon, and Richie had him find out as much as he could about the author. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much. Obie was able to find Richie her website and email information, and Richie’d been a happy puppy ever since. There were stories on there for all the guys, from her and other authors, and Teek and Dave had been intrigued by them as well. Jon was the only one who resisted.

“C’mon, you prude,” Richie needled. “Like you haven’t read porn before. Besides, this one story? Right up your alley. Vampires. You know how you like that paranormal shit.”

Jon rolled his eyes at his best friend. “Really,” he said, grudgingly admitting to himself he was curious. “And just who pray tell are the vamps?”

“You and the lady lead.” Richie laughed. “You have to read it. I die at the end.”

Jon chuckled. “That may just be reason enough to do it.” He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. “Look, if I look at it, and I said ‘if’ and I said ‘look’, will you kindly shut up about it?”

“For a while,” Richie said. “It really is quite entertaining. We’re trying to figure out how to get Hath’s real name. We know it’s Jen and she lives near Boston, but that’s it.”

“You seriously aren’t wasting Obie on this, are you?” Jon rolled his eyes at his friend.

“Hell yeah,” Richie said. “We find her, we can find the rest of them. Teek really REALLY wants to talk to that Gail woman from England, and D can’t decide if he wants to fight him for her or me for Hath.”

Jon laughed. “You guys are really pathetic, you know that? Alright,” he said, “gimme the fucking laptop.”

Richie dialed up Hath’s website from his Favorites, and navigated to the “Other Stories” section. He clicked the link for the website he wanted, and handed the computer to Jon. It was an unassuming site, pretty innocuous looking, actually.

“T’S LITTLE SLICE OF THE WEB” the site’s title proclaimed.

Jon read the story descriptions, smirking to himself. So, seems this woman was one of ‘his’ girls. He scrolled down the page to “Completed Stories” and there it was: “Dirty Little Secret”. He read the story description, and was just about to click the link when he scanned the next bit of text.

“Jesus Christ,” Jon swore.

“What?” Richie asked.

“Look at this,” Jon said. He pointed at what he had just read. This woman had published PUBLISHED one of these fan fiction stories. About HIM. And she helpfully listed the name of the book and her full name. Terri England.

He closed his eyes. “Here goes nothing,” he said, and clicked the link.

Jon laughed out loud when he saw the doctored photos, the ones giving him vamp fangs. “Damn,” he said, unconsciously running his tongue across his teeth. “If I didn’t know for a fact that my teeth don’t look like that…” He shook his head and started to read. Richie smiled a knowing smile, then stretched out, closed his eyes, and waited for Danielle to return.

* * *

Several days and several shows later, the tour wrapped, and Jon finished reading the vampire story. He sat back on the overstuffed couch in his SoHo apartment and steepled his fingers, tapping them against his chin. He had to admit, the story was a good one. The plot was interesting, the sex was explosive, and the dialog sounded like shit he would really say. He wondered if he had met this woman before. He had gone onto Amazon and ordered her book, under an alias of course, and it should be delivered any day now. He was not letting Rich know about this. There was no way he’d ever let Jon live it down.

He Googled “Terri England” and got lots of sites for a jazz artist by that name. No, he thought, that wasn’t her. He looked at her site again. “view my complete profile” it said. And he did. Now he added “Arkansas” and “radio” to his Google search and a few clicks later, he was looking at Terri England’s page at the radio station where she worked. He read the little bits about her that she shared, and checked out her MySpace page. He grinned. She couldn’t make it any easier to find her.

Jon reached for the phone and called his assistant.

“Danielle,” he said, “I need to get out to Little Rock.”

Part Three

Jon was annoyed that he couldn’t get out right away. He had a few things for the Soul and the band he had to wrap after the Madison Square Garden shows, but once they were done, he was on a flight jetting west. The one good thing about the delay was that the book he had ordered arrived. He had read through most of it in the days before his flight, and finished it on the plane.

By the time he landed, he had an idea of why the other guys were hooked on this stuff – reading an idealized version of himself was one thing, but this woman, Terri, wrote him so damned close to the way he was. His foibles, personality, hell his body language was all pretty close to reality. At first it was a little disconcerting, but as he got into the story, he almost forgot it was a book about him. He was chagrined that more than once he found himself saying “What a tool Sin is being” only to remember it was him.

After Jon checked into his suite at Doubletree, he grabbed a quick shower to wash the travel off him. He unpacked his gear and went onto the balcony for a cigarette. As he exhaled a stream of pungent smoke into the evening air, he considered his plan. He was hopeful this Terri was a reasonable woman. While he was flattered at her portrayals of him, the book was a bit much. If the blog on her radio station’s website was to be believed, she had another in the works. He had to stop this before it got too out of hand.

The internet stuff, well there wasn’t anything he could do about that. Freedom of speech and all that. He would never dream of stifling her creativity. He did need to draw the line, though, at profiting from “his” life. That just didn’t sit well with him. The way he saw it go down in his head, he’d be waiting for her after her shift got out, and would have a very civilized discussion with her about ceasing and desisting. He was confident that throwing legalese at her would impress her enough to abandon the second book.

He stretched out on the bed and flipped on the television. The local college’s football team was playing. He settled in to watch the game, and somewhere around halftime, fell asleep.

Jon woke with a start, completely disoriented. He clambered out of bed and spun around the bedroom before he remembered where he was. He shook his head to clear the fog and checked his watch.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed. It was after 11:30. He had slept for hours. He stumbled down to the parking garage and dialed the address of the radio station into his rental’s GPS. Fifteen minutes later, he was pulling up in front of the station. Donning a baseball cap, he strode into the lobby of the building like he owned the place and stopped in front of the reception desk.

“Evening,” he said cordially.

“Evenin’,” a soft drawl responded. The woman behind the desk couldn’t have been more than twenty. “What can I do for you tonight?”

Jon smiled at the girl-woman and was mildly annoyed that it seemed to have no effect on her. It was his best smile, too. “I was hoping you could direct me to Terri’s studio.”

“Is she expectin’ you?” the woman asked, almost bored with the conversation.

“No,” Jon admitted, “but she’ll want to see me.”

The woman, Tammy, looked Jon up and down. He looked like something the cat dragged in. Rumpled t-shirt, though he did fill it out nicely, day-old stubble on his cheeks, and a ball cap to most likely cover bed head. She highly doubted this man was someone Terri wanted hanging around her studio. Besides, rules were rules, and they didn’t let just anyone wander around the halls, especially late at night.

“Do you have any ID, sir?” Tammy asked, a slight frost creeping into her tone.

Sighing, Jon dug out his wallet and slid his license across, waiting for the recognition. Tammy scrutinized the picture. “You’re a long way from home, Mr.,” she squinted at the name, “Bon-gee-uh-vee.”

“Close enough,” he muttered under his breath. “Yes, I know,” he said in his normal speaking voice, dripping a little Jersey drawl into it, “which is why I’d appreciate it if you could let me back to Terri’s studio.”

Tammy tilted her head at Jon and studied him for a long moment. Jon tried to hide his east-coast impatience, needing to remember that things went slower in the South than Back East. He pasted on his sweetest smile, which Tammy returned. “Gotcha,” he thought to himself.

“Sorry,” Tammy finally answered. “Rules are rules, and with no appointment, you’ll have to wait.” She indicated the chairs on the other side of the lobby and turned to her computer.

Stunned, Jon went to sit down. He was not used to waiting, and didn’t do it well. Checking his watch, he saw he only had ten minutes before Terri’s shift was over – certainly he could wait ten minutes. He relaxed enough to realize he was hearing what must be Terri’s voice coming over the speakers in the lobby. Her voice had that edge to it that told him she was either a smoker or a recent former, and there was just enough whiskey in it to make him smile.

“That her?” Jon asked the ever-helpful Tammy.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Who else d’ya suppose it’d be?”

Jon nodded and drummed his fingers on his knee. Finally, he heard her wrapping for the night. He stretched and stood, pacing the room, looking at the signed posters and photographs on the walls. Several minutes later, he heard that same voice from the radio say, “Hey Tammy, g’night now.” Jon smiled at her voice, but didn’t turn around.

“Terri, you have a visitor,” Tammy said softly, indicating Jon.

“Is that right,” Terri answered, then turned to look at Jon. She saw a backside that did justice to the jeans that covered it. She followed legs downward to battered cowboy boots, then back up to rest on that ass again. Broad shoulders strained the seams of a dark blue t-shirt, and shaggy dirty-blond hair was visible below a baseball cap.

“Shit,” Terri said loudly enough to be heard. “’Scuse me, man, are you another of Lori’s setups? ‘Cause I gotta tell ya, even though ya got the ass thing down, I am NOT in the mood for a date tonight.”

Jon turned, the bill of his cap shadowing his eyes. “Really?” he said, purposefully deepening his voice.

“Yeah,” Terri said, moving closer. “Now c’mon, do me a favor, baby, and take the hat off. Lemme see the baby blues.”

“Come closer,” Jon said, smiling.

“Dayum, you have the smile too. You have the eyes, and you may make me reconsider my no-date stance.”

Jon removed the cap and pushed his hand through his hair to fluff it out a little. “How’s that, sweetheart?” he asked, locking his eyes onto hers.

“Oh, fuck,” Terri said, and turned on her heel and left.

Part Four

Jon laughed and hastened to catch up with Terri. “Wait a second,” he said gently grabbing hold of her arm. “I’ve got the ass, the smile, the baby blues. . . you gonna reconsider a date, darlin’? Oh by the way, hi, I’m Jon.”

Terri grabbed his hand off her arm and examined it. Callouses, check. Crooked fingers, check. Sweet hell, he was for real. “I know who the fuck you are!” Terri exclaimed. “And if you wanna keep your strummin’ hand, you’d best keep it the hell off my person; at least until you tell me why you’re here. Then I’ll decide if you can touch me and how and where.”

Terri couldn’t believe she’d just said that, but Jon chuckled low in his throat, so she figured she was safe. “That sounds like a deal, Terri,” he said, and the sound of her name on his lips was just about the sweetest, sexiest thing she’d ever heard.

“Jumpin’ Jesus, man, what the hell are you doing here?” Terri noticed she still had hold of Jon’s hand and dropped it.

“Looking for you,” Jon answered, smiling. Terri’s hair was past her shoulders and a myriad of browns and blondes and looked like it was soft as goose down. Her eyes were sparkling and he saw a hint of embarrassment in them, and a whole lot of intrigue. A smirk played at the corner of her mouth, like she was itching to zing a smart-ass remark back at him, but wasn’t sure if she should.

“Well, no shit, baby, I’m the only one here besides the wonder that is Tammy.” Apparently, she decided ‘what the hell’.

“You’re here alone?”

“Yeah,” Terri said defiantly. “Why? You gonna try something, city boy?”

There was just enough challenge in her tone to make Jon say, “I don’t see anyone here to stop me.” He gave himself a mental shake. He had an agenda and he needed to follow it. He could not be distracted by her sass or her voice. Or those eyes. Or the hair. Or the way she filled out her t-shirt and jeans. He gave himself another shake.

Terri hooted. “Dayum, Jon, you have no idea who you’re fucking with.” She shook her head. “C’mon, I guess you can keep me company while I have dinner.”

“You haven’t eaten yet?”

She thought she was doing very well, letting the idiotic, inane comments go by, but shit, if she could be coherent, the least he could do was try. “Am I talkin’ too fast for ya, baby? Or is it that dinner means something different where ya’ll are from?”

Jon chuckled. “No, smart ass, dinner is still the last meal of the day. I’d be happy to join you.”

“Good, then you can tell me just what in the HELL you are doing here.” Terri was talking a good game, but was a wreck inside. This was the man who’d fueled more than a zillion fantasies over the years, some of which she’d written about, some of which she kept for herself. He freaking sought her OUT, and was hanging around the station waiting for her. HER. This kind of stuff just didn’t happen to her.

Jon walked Terri to her truck and opened the door for her. “You wanna follow me, or hop in?” she asked, not sure which she wanted him to pick.

“I’ll hop in,” he said. “As long as you promise to bring me back here to collect my car,” he joked.

“Now, baby, I can’t promise you that,” Terri said winking. “But I promise to consider it.”

Jon chuckled. “Fair enough.” He rounded the back of the truck and climbed into the passenger seat. Terri pointed her baby in the direction of her favorite diner. The entire short drive, Terri drove like there was an iron pole down her spine. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly, it’s a wonder she didn’t break part of it off. She kept sneaking looks at Jon, taking in his relaxed smile, and more than once, caught him looking at her.

After what seemed to her to be an eternity, Terri flicked her directional and pulled into Berties. “Bertram will make you the best burger on the planet,” she said. “You’ll love it.” She parked in a lot that, given the late hour, was remarkably full. Terri saw him looking astonished at the cars, trucks, and rigs in the lot. “Bertie stays open all night; he gets all sorts of trucker traffic, and everyone coming off night shift.” She threw the truck into park and grabbed her bag from under her seat. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Bertram, who was ninety if he was a day, greeted Terri like a long-lost daughter. He told her to go on back to her booth with her friend. “How’s he like his burger?”

Terri turned to Jon and smiled. “Medium, grilled onions, spicy mustard. And double sweet-potato curly fries.”

Jon laughed. “How’d you know that about the burger?”

Terri just gave him a look. “You’re kidding, right? You do know I’m a pretty avid fan. I know all sorts of shit you don’t think I know.”

“And the fries?”

“Baby, you HAVE to have Berties special recipe sweet potato curly fries,” Terri said, lowering her voice dramatically. “Bertie’ll call the sheriff if you don’t.”

They sat across from each other in the booth Bertram always kept vacant for Terri on nights she worked. “Now,” she said, as they settled in with their Cokes, “what brings you to Arkansas?” She held her breath, terrified of the answer.

“TC and Sin,” Jon answered.

“Oh, fuck,” Terri said, for the second time that night.

Part Five

“Yeah,” Jon said. “That’s pretty much what I said about halfway through your Vampire story. Then I saw your profile blurb about the book.” He winked at Terri. “Then I ordered it. You know you missed a ‘Jon’ in there.”

Terri blushed. “Yeah, I know. How in the hell did you find. . . well, me?”

Jon laughed. “You couldn’t have made it any easier. Your friend The Goddess Hathor is apparently Rich’s favorite author of late, and he sent her an email, under pseudonym of course, and asked what her favorite Jon story was.”

“Hath outed me? I’m gonna fuckin’ kill her.”

“’Hath’, huh?” Jon filed her nickname away to tell Richie about later. “Anyway, she told him about the Vamp story, and he finally got me to read it. He’s been badgering me for months to join their bandwagon.”

“Their bandwagon?” Terri was wide-eyed. “You mean –”

“Yep, all of us are now officially hooked on, what do you girls call it? ‘Jovi porn’.” He laughed at her expression. “Though if you tell anyone, we’ll deny it.” He chowed down a handful of fries and washed it down with a swig of Coke. “I’ve gotta say, you girls are pretty, uh, generous in your descriptions.” He smiled at the just-swallowed-a-bug look on Terri’s face. “And as for finding you, it’s really all your own fault; don’t blame your friend. She may have pointed me to ‘T’ the writer, but ‘Terri’ the person? Hell you put your real name out there, and put your state and profession on your profile; that’s not very clandestine. I may not be a whiz with computers, but I can Google with the best of them.” Jon smiled a breathtaking, genuine smile that had Terri almost mooning. “Richie hasn’t sorted out who Hath is yet,” Jon continued, “but he’s working on it. She’s apparently much sneakier than you are. He’s gonna piss fire when he finds out I found my author first.”

Terri got a wicked gleam in her eye and took a pen from her bag. She scribbled a number down on a napkin. “Here, quid pro quo,” she said. “This is Hath’s cell. She always has the damned thing on her, but if he calls around six in the morning, she’s usually in a tunnel, and it’ll go to voicemail. He’ll find out who she is and where she works without actually talking to her first and giving himself away.” She sat back, a smug smile on her face. “She outed me, I’m gonna fuck with her right back,” Terri muttered.

Jon laughed and tucked the napkin into his pocket. “If you’re trying to distract me from your book, it isn’t going to work. We do need to talk about that.”

Terri sighed. “Alright; how pissed are you?” This was literally her worst nightmare. Well, the “worst” version involved a courtroom, and a very dressed up, very pissed off rock star. This was marginally better – at least he wasn’t scowling at her.

Jon sighed. “Actually, I was more pissed at home.” He looked at Terri, the blue heat of his eyes skewering her to the spot, and all but melting her brain. “I just can’t seem to get indignant at you.” They chewed their dinners in silence for a few minutes. “Why is that?” he asked.

Terri smiled. “That’s easy, rock star, it’s because you want me and you’re thinking with your dick,” she said, winking at him. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you,” she said laughingly. She waited for him to join her in laughter, but his perusal was thoughtful instead. Well shit, she thought, she was kidding. Sort of. Projecting was actually more like it. The chuckles dried up in Terri’s throat, and she took a swig of cola to wash them down.

The silence stretched until it became uncomfortable. “So,” Terri said finally. “What now?”

“Well, hell, I don’t know,” Jon said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Terri rolled her eyes and handed him a napkin. When their fingers touched, Terri thought it was a wonder the napkin didn’t burst into flames from the spark that passed between them. Jon smiled as if he didn’t notice, but Terri saw his eyes darken slightly and wondered what the hell he was thinking.

She was distracted enough that she had to ask him to repeat what he had just said. Jon made a big show of being put out. “Sure, you aren’t even listening to me now. I’ll bet you’re picturing me naked, aren’t you?” Terri laughed at that, surprised at his playfulness, and now that he had her full attention, he continued. “I said that I had this whole little speech planned out about attorneys and lawsuit threats, but I’ll be damned if I can muster up even a flicker of annoyance now.”

Terri relaxed marginally, but something in his gaze wouldn’t let her breathe a sigh of relief just yet. She didn’t know how to read him. Was he really flirting with her or just trying to soften her up before diving into a tirade.

Jon dropped the crumpled napkin on the table. “Look, I don’t want to be a jerk,” he said. “But I’d appreciate it if you would confirm that your next book, the one you said you were working on, is about something else?”

Terri took a big gulp of her Coke and didn’t say anything. Well her mouth didn’t say anything but the delicate pink flush creeping up her face spoke volumes. Jon had a fleeting thought, wondering if her whole body flushed or if it was just her face.

Jon groaned at the image that put in his head, and dropped his head into his hands. “Oh God,” he said.

Terri thought he was talking about the book. “Now wait a minute,” Terri said, “what makes you think my book is about you?”

Jon smiled widely, glad she didn’t notice him all turned on. He didn’t know how she’d react, and he was having too good a time to mess it up with biology. “You’re saying the book isn’t about me?” He tried to turn the conversation to something that wouldn’t get him more agitated than he already was.

“Well no,” Terri hedged, “but it’s a little arrogant of you to presume, isn’t it?” Jon’s expression was pained, and Terri had to chuckle. “Now, relax, baby. It’s not too far gone that I can’t change it around some. Your fries are getting cold.”

“Arrogant huh? Just like it was arrogant for you to presume I want you?” Jon asked.

“I didn’t hear your denial. And baby, that’s not presumption, just chemistry,” Terri answered. “I’m damned near irresistible.”

Jon chuckled. “People have been known to say the same about me,” he said.

Terri nodded. “Yes. . .Yes they have.” She swallowed the last of her burger and wiped her mouth. Then she leaned back in the booth, and put her feet up next to Jon’s thighs, crossing them at the ankle. She folded her hands across her stomach and sighed. “Listen. I get your point, okay? About the book. But you have to take into account that it’s not like I made hundreds of thousands of dollars off it.” Terri laughed. “Though, if I used your real name instead of changing it, it probably would have sold more.”

Jon laughed and nodded, grudgingly admitting she was right. When the conversation hit another lull, Jon was grateful that Bertie came by their booth to ask if everything was alright. When Terri tilted her head up to talk to him, Jon couldn’t tear his eyes away the column of her throat. He smiled and wondered what Terri would think if he bit her, like Giovanni in her story did to Mackenzie. The thought of putting his mouth on her had him shifting in his seat.

When Bertie left, Terri caught Jon staring at her. “What?” she said.

Jon shook his head. “Just errant thoughts, that’s all, nothing important.”

“Uh-huh,” she said. “You are a piss-poor liar, Jon.”

Jon dropped his hand to her calf, and stroked it lightly. “So,” he said, his voice lowering and touching something primal in Terri’s soul. “I’ve told you why I was here; have you decided on where and how I can touch you now?”

“You forgot the ‘if’, rock star,” Terri said, though she made no move to shift her legs away from Jon’s touch.

“I figured since you weren’t kicking me that the ‘if’ was a given. Besides,” he smiled at her. “You want me. And that’s not arrogant presumption, that’s chemistry,” he said, throwing her words back at her. He waited a moment before he added, “and I don’t hear any denial from you, either.”

Terri’s eyes locked on Jon’s for a moment, then she slowly withdrew her legs from his bench. She stood and tossed some money onto the table. Digging her keys out of her pocket, she asked, “you done, then?” and started to walk out of the diner, tossing a g’bye at Bertie on her way out. Jon followed her to her truck and after handing her up into the driver’s seat, once again strapped himself in on the other side.

Terri pulled out of the parking lot and headed for her house; in the opposite direction from the one from which they had come.

“Hey,” Jon teased, “you promised to take me back to my car.”

“Oh no,” Terri answered. “I promised to consider it.”

“Did you even consider it?” Jon asked, sliding closer to her and putting his hand high on her thigh.

“No,” Terri said. “So sue me.”

Epilogue

Jon’s hand on her leg made Terri’s pulse race. His pinky was stroking back and forth and coming perilously close to the juncture of her thighs. When she moved her foot to the brake pedal, Jon moved his hand along with her, to keep contact. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled.

“Just what in the hell are you grinnin’ at?” Terri demanded.

“You,” Jon answered. “You have this adorable blush creeping up your neck…does the rest of your body flush like that when you’re aroused?”

“Who says I’m aroused?” Terri answered. “I could just be mad.”

Jon chuckled, and at the next red light they stopped at, he boldly cupped Terri through her jeans and pressed his fingers into her. She gasped loudly and turned to look at him. He could feel her dampness, made a show of bringing his hand up to his nose and inhaling. “You smell turned on to me,” he said softly.

“Oh my sweet Lord,” Terri answered, and turned her eyes back to the road. The light changed, and she slowly pulled through the intersection.

“How much further to your place?” Jon asked, putting his hand back onto Terri’s thigh.

“Not much,” she answered, completely distracted now. “About ten minutes.”

“Hmmm,” Jon said, and stroked Terri again.

“Jesus, are you trying to get us killed?” Terri asked, as the contact made her jump and jerk the wheel.

“Not at all, baby, unless you’re talking about the ‘little death’. That I am most definitely trying to do.” Jon slid close to Terri and looped an arm around the back of her seat. He reached down between her legs and rubbed her again.

Jon’s fingers found the button on her jeans, and worked it open. He lowered the zipper before Terri’s brain turned back on and she asked, “You aren’t serious?”

Jon smiled at Terri and leaned in to bite her neck softly. “Darlin’, there are two things I never kid about,” Jon said. “Making money and making love.” He slid his hand into her jeans, which was no easy feat since Terri liked to wear them tight. But he managed, and the feel of her slick skin made his cock jump to attention. Terri’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, but she didn’t say a word.

Jon took that as a personal challenge. He wiggled his hand back and forth, working Terri’s jeans open a little more, and slid a finger into her. He didn’t have the room to pump her so he flexed his finger, arching it to hit that spot that made Terri’s eyes pop.

“Oh God,” she said softly as her foot pressed the accelerator.

“Easy, baby,” Jon murmured. “You wouldn’t want to get pulled over now, would you?” He licked just under her ear and pressed his hand harder into her pants. Terri lifted her hips slightly, and Jon was able to slide a second finger into her. She shakily removed one hand from the steering wheel and wrapped it around the bulge in Jon’s jeans. He hissed.

“Turnabout’s fair play, baby,” Terri said, as she squeezed and stroked his straining erection.

“GodDAMN it how much longer?” he gritted.

“That depends on you, baby,” Terri said, her breathing becoming ragged, and her foot starting to press down again on the gas pedal. “Can you resist the feel of the friction?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” he said between clenched teeth.

He was saved from having to explain himself by their arrival at Terri’s place. She gave him a final squeeze, and grabbed his wrist, turning to look at him. “I will not be fucked in my car like a teenager,” she said. She pulled his hand from her pants, and slid out of her seat.

“Coming, Jon?” she asked sweetly.

He let out a bark of laughter. “Not yet, Terri. Believe me, when I do, you’ll know it.”

“Gonna get all religious on me baby?” Terri asked as Jon joined her at the front door. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and pushed at her jeans, even as Terri was putting the key in the lock.

“I’d rather get all religious in you, but ‘on’ works if that’s what you want.” He pushed Terri through the door when she got it open, and slammed the door behind him. He then found himself slammed against the door as Terri pressed up against him and kissed him for all she was worth. She threaded her hands in his hair while he framed her face with his hands, and their tongues battled mightily with each other.

Terri broke the kiss and looked at Jon’s face. His eyes were dark with passion and his eyelids at half mast, heavy with lust. This was an image of him she wanted to have burned into her memory. She smiled a sly smile. “C’mon, Jon,” she said, taking his hand.

She led him to the bedroom, and they stopped by the bed. Slowly, they stripped each other, taking time to taste and tease every inch of skin they exposed. Terri ran her hands through the gray-tinged brown fur on his chest, groaning at the soft and silky feel of it. She found his hard nipples and scraped her fingernails across them before tracing the muscles of his abdomen. She unfastened his pants and shoved them down as far as she could before wrapping her warm hand around him. Jon kicked out of his shoes and pants and gently extricated himself from Terri’s grip. He knelt in front of her and pulled her jeans and panties down and off her legs.

As Jon rose to his feet, he trailed his fingertips lightly over Terri’s legs, making her quiver. As his mouth joined hers again, his hands greedily squeezing and stroking her breasts, Terri slid her hands down his back to cup his ass, groaning at the feel of those hard muscles.

“Damn, Jon,” she said, tearing her mouth from his.

“Shut up and kiss me again,” he said roughly, pulling her mouth to his. Terri turned them so Jon’s back was to the bed, and shoved, sending him flying backwards. She crawled up over him, and stretched out on top of him. Jon wrapped Terri in his arms and rolled them so he was positioned between her legs. He braced himself on his elbows and swore. “Don’t move a muscle,” he admonished, kissing the end of her nose. He sprang from the bed and snagged his jeans, digging for his wallet. “Shit,” he muttered, then turned sheepishly toward Terri. “Uh, baby, I don’t have -- ”

Terri cut him off. “Bedside drawer, baby, and hurry the fuck up.”

Jon laughed and pulled what he needed from the drawer. Sheathing himself, he pressed slowly into Terri’s wet heat, slowly, torturously, until she hooked a leg around his hips and pulled him into her fully.

“Awwww, fuck that’s good,” she moaned, her head lolling to one side.

Jon intended on stroking her slowly, but he couldn’t. Once he was buried inside her, he couldn’t hold back. He pulled out almost completely, then slammed home, making Terri scream. Again and again he pounded her, until her cries were growing hoarse, and her eyes rolled back. Jon smiled when he saw her whole body did indeed flush pink when she was aroused, and the sight of her writhing beneath him, coupled with the feeling of being gripped by her, pushed him over the edge.

“Oh God,” he called as he emptied inside her.

Terri wrapped her legs and arms around him and held him close as their tremors subsided and their breathing returned to normal. Jon gently rolled off Terri and gathered her close to his chest. She lay there, listening to his heartbeat and playing with the hair on his chest.

Jon kissed Terri’s temple and hugged her close. Terri placed a kiss over Jon’s heart and sighed contentedly. They lay there, each lost in his own thoughts, until their breathing slowed, and eventually, they drifted off to sleep.