The Girlfriend

Chapter Eight

Jon

I'm not entirely sure when I agreed to fly back to New York without Lydia, but I do know it was somewhere between her kissing my chest and my mouth finding her tits while she sat in my lap. I also wasn't entirely proud of the fact that she could so easily get me to do what she wanted if she used her sex appeal, but I wasn't going to complain too much. My nose on the other hand, that I was going to complain about because holy fuck did that hurt. And while waiting for Lydia and Allie to drive back across the country it gave time for bruises to show up; dark, obvious, painful bruises.

Beyond that though, my trip to Monterey had actually seemed pretty good for the both of us. Danielle didn't like me, quite frankly I didn't blame her, but beyond that Lydia and I were able to have a heart to heart. She had never told me about her parents, Patrick had told me she came from the foster system and Lydia always called Allie her sister, but nothing about her biological family. Her father, I now knew, died when she was around six in a car accident and her parents had been married but divorced a year or so before he passed. She cried at his gravestone, and I sat with her while she told me about him.

The conversation that she pointedly avoided was anything beyond the behaviour I had seen from her mother today. Nothing about what she was like when Lydia was growing up, or why she went into the system in the first place, but I could read well enough between the lines and figured it had something to do with her aggression. No matter what though, I would let her open up to me in her own time. For now, I was just waiting for her to get home.

I told them they didn't need to rush, but truth be told I was getting anxious about Patrick being in Poland without us. His father may have wanted to see him, but the rest of the family didn't seem too welcoming and I worried about how he would react, having Lydia and I there gave him someone to talk to. Not that either of us was good at communicating, but it was the thought that counts. No matter what though we weren't leaving until almost three in the morning since that was the earliest flight I could get us on.

It shouldn't be long now though, I told myself silently, she'll be back soon. She'd already texted me that she was back in New York and was on her way to the apartment, now I just had to stop myself from jumping every time something made a noise. When the buzzer did finally go off I ran for the door and let her in.

"Hey," I greeted, opening the door as she stepped out of the elevator. "How was the drive?"

"Not bad," she paused to lean in and kiss my cheek. "Thanks for being understanding about it.

"Don't thank me," I murmured, holding her close. "I just wanted you to be happy."

"Mm," she hummed, sliding her hands up my chest. "I think you're full of shit."

I laughed in surprise and picked her up fully, dragging her into the apartment as she giggled and hid her face against my shoulder. It felt different to have her to myself for a while and to have no reason to leave her side – not even work since we were both jobless. My mind drifted to where it always drifted when I had alone time with Lydia; sex. I never had an issue with my sex drive, but I had to admit to myself that sometimes I bit off more than I could chew with her since she was the energizer bunny that could just keep going long after I was spent. That didn't stop me now from dropping down onto the couch with her in my lap and my hands finding their way up her shirt.

"I missed you." My lips moved across her skin as I spoke, trailing up her throat and feeling her heart beat faster the closer I got to her ear. "I forgot how lonely my bed was without you."

She huffed and sat back on my knees, her fingers intertwined behind my neck as she glared daggers at me. "I'm more than a heated sex toy, thank you very much."