warning steamy chapter but not R
♪♫••═════ PART TWO~CHAPTER : 12 ═════••♬ ♭
Dax and Tristan had been joined in their nap session by Randi who lay stretched on the last empty length of the sectional.
I sank to share a cushion with Tristan's feet. With much chagrin, I realized that my son still wore his brand new PJ's.
Goodbyes echoed from the hall rousing the three of them, and Tristan's sleepy eyes looked into mine.
“Momma, you're back...”
“I missed you.” Touching my lips to his silky hair, I asked, “Want something to drink? Then we can get you dressed and--”
“Daddy said I didn't have to get dressed today.”
“Really? Daddy said that?”
Nodding, he sat up rubbing his eyes. A large clock adorned one vast wall, and its hands depicted the time as after six. It was an odd feeling to know the day, as Tristan and I normally knew it, was almost over. Yet here, tonight, it was barely beginning for me.
“Daddy said I could wear my pajamas all day, and then we could go swimming all day tomorrow.”
Having Jack make arbitrary decisions about Tristan was going to take some adjusting to. Even though these types of decisions were minor, and he had always consulted me concerning anything major, the loss of complete control felt odd.
Tristan trailed me to the kitchen where I searched for plastic cups by randomly opening cabinets. Jack had served Tristan with them last night and this morning. The breakable glasses were logically located right next to the fridge. As I continued to look, Randi and Dax, both still heavy lidded from sleep, sauntered into the room.
“Looking for these?” Dax joked, waving a box of cookies.
“Yes!” Tristan enthused, clamoring to a chair in preparation for a snack.
“Actually, I was looking for plastic cups.” To Tristan, I admonished, “I thought you could have some supper before cookies.”
“There are no plastic cups here,” Randi spoke, and at the same time Dax produced the requested cup from a shelf beneath the island.
“They are down low so he can reach them.” Dax explained, and looked so proud that I knew he must have been the one to put them there.
“Since when are there plastic cups?” Randi wondered, then followed Dax's gaze to Tristan, and answered her own question. “Oh. Since someone became a daddy...”
Randi actually looked content at the thought of Jack with a family, and puzzling on the lingerina and Jack just couldn't be any more confusing.
“Can't I have one cookie now? Please Mom..ma?”
“You know what? Have three cookies. Have four! And I will be right back.”
Randi and Dax exchanged a look between themselves, but I felt no remorse for my outburst as I whipped around. My intention was to search for Jack, but I turned smack into his hard chest.
Automatically, his arms wrapped me, holding tight even after I regained balance. “Where you running off to?”
Safe in his embrace from all the weirdness of the day, some of the pent up stress dissipated, and I blew out a relaxed breath.
“Actually, I was going to ask if you had any ideas on Tristan's supper.”
“Food sounds amazing. Order a pizza?”
“Oh yes!” Tristan exclaimed, and I turned in time to see him ball a fist and move his arm in a triumphant motion. “Pizza. Four times in a row.”
“You didn't have pizza for breakfast,” I protested feeling guilty for so many pizza's even if they were fairly nutritious.
“He did,” Jack replied, and our son solemnly nodded. “We ate the leftovers from last night. Then he had cereal too.”
“For desert. Because it's sugar,” Tristan intoned of the frosted crispy flakes earlier splashed atop the table.
My eyes went to Jack, who was setting up the coffee maker, knowing that Tristan was, in all likelihood, repeating something witty 'Daddy' had said.
“And speaking of sugar,” Jack turned, his dark gaze both twinkling and parental as it went to our son, “I hope you are not eating cookies before real food...”
“Momma said I could.”
“Okay then. As long as you asked.”
I felt my mouth drop open as my son smugly finished the cookie in his hand, and both Dax and Randi hid their giggles.
Choose your battles...I had read the phrase once in a parenting magazine, and now I took it to heart deciding to stay silent. Technically it was true. I had told him to have four cookies! Crossing the room, I snatched a couple of cookies to tide my empty stomach over until 'real food' arrived.
Jack was intent on the screen of his phone, and he requested input as he poked an order into the app.
“Pepperoni and jalapeno,” Tristan sang out his usual order, and without looking up, Jack just shook his head with a silent smile having already experienced that unusual order from his four-year old.
“Thomas will be here in a half hour,” Randi reminded of the stylist, then made arrangements with Dax to use the shower in his room.
The pizza arrived, and I got Tristan settled. Dax sat at the table with him. Jack and I stood at the bar eating. I was so ravenous that I was barely chewing. Jack seemed to be preoccupied, vaguely staring out the glass doors in between snippets of conversation with me and Dax.
“I should get a shower.” Ignoring Rusty's hopeful look, I wisely tossed my crusts into the trash bin.
“Your stuff is upstairs,” Dax informed around a mouthful of his order.
With a mummer of thanks, I headed to the second floor and found my bedroom empty. Continuing to the end of the hall, I pushed open Jack's bedroom door. Sure enough, my purchases were on the unmade bed.
Opening the dress box, I checked for wrinkles. Finding it fine, I hesitated over where to take a shower. With my mind made up, I carefully laid the dress out flat on the bed, then pushed closed first the bedroom door, and then the bathroom door.
Like last night, I paused stunned for a minute by the beauty of the huge bathroom. Taking a towel from the chrome rack, I hung it on a hook next to the glass doors, and began to let my clothes fall to the floor.
Stepping into the massive shower, I contemplated the chrome panel set into the tile. A tiny digital screen read 'READY.' Instead of twisting the manual lever, as I had the previous night, I moved away from the shower heads. Tentatively, I pressed a button and the digit 'one' appeared. This was not much different than a microwave. The one was blinking, and taking a deep breath, I pressed 'start.'
The harsh blare of metal music assaulted my ears, but the blue light streaming through the shower spray captivated my eyes. Putting a hand out, I found the water a pleasant temperature, but the music was anything but pleasing.
Pressing the first button again made the screen blink, and another push brought a flashing two. I hit enter, and leaped back when I was doused with cool water. The music had not stopped, but the light show was now red.
The panicked push of buttons never gave me an option without Jack's music preference. When I couldn't seem to turn the shower off altogether, I resigned to a fate of screamo music and went back to 'one' which would at least be warm.
Opening my eyes after a long relaxing minute beneath the spray, I realized my next mistake in choosing Jack's shower.
My eyes scanned over male shampoos and shower gels, and I knew I would come out of this shower smelling of mint and spices instead of vanilla and berries.
Pooling gel into a washrag, I began to bathe, but affixed startled eyes through the glass when one of the double doors opened. Relaxing when I saw Jack, I continued soaping up and watched, wary but interested, as his clothes joined mine on the floor.
His usual smirk evolved into an outright grin, and I knew he realized that I was trapped into the music selection. The shower was much larger than the one at my house, but Jack crowding it took my breath away just the same.
“Thought I'd find you here,” he rumbled close to my ear as I easily surrendered the plush rag to him.
“Why? Because I said I was going to shower?” I yelled over the music and curved a taunting smile watching as his hair begin to plaster to his head and down his neck and shoulders.
“Haha. So funny.”
But I wasn't laughing and neither was he. Draping the washcloth over one of the shower heads, he soaped up his hands, and my eyes fell closed as I enjoyed the slip and slide of his fingers on my skin.
“Can we turn it off?” I begged when the sound compromised my complete enjoyment of the moment. “Or at least down?”
His arm stretched to a panel that I had not noticed, way higher up on the wall, and the blissful sound of only water followed. He gave me a rundown on the functioning of the automated system, but was quickly back to his soapy task.
“Tristan still eating?” I wasn't yet used to not having to worry where he was every second. As much as I trusted Jack, I didn't know how responsible Dax was.
“No. He's playing guitar for Dax.” He had moved behind me, and spoke into my neck while his hands skimmed down my sides.
“Jack?...” I couldn't believe I was going to say what I was about to. Never, even in the years of being engaged to my ex, had this happened. Then again, never had I been sexed up so many times in a week. And certainly not by anyone so--
Even as I thought in terms of size, it was there, firm against the small of my back, as Jack crowded me to the wall.
With those decorated arms braced on either side of my body, and his breath hotter than the steam of the shower against my face, extreme deja vu overtook the moment.
This was how Tristan had been added to our life.
As if sensing the turn of my thoughts, possibly experiencing the same de javu, he made the husky assurance, “I brought a condom.”
If only my problem could be solved that easy.
“I'm—I'm sore. Real sore.” The whispered admission spilled past my reluctant lips.
His hands stilled, then one quickly retreated from its intimate local, and I swallowed my disappointment. Easing up slightly, he still maintained his close stance, keeping me against him and the wall, and I stared miserably at the tile and grout.
“Damn, Mariss. I'm sorry honey. Why didn't you tell me?”
“I am. Telling you. It wasn't like this till today.”
“I'm sorry honey... “ he repeated the apology and sounded so miserable that I almost regretted telling him. “I just can't seem to stay off you. But I will.” His arms curved around my waist holding my back against him. Then, his voice changed, going from soft and gentle, to soft and seductive. “Want me to kiss it better?”
My insides fluttered and flamed, the afflicted area suddenly throbbing.
“Did Thomas get here yet? I should hurry if he is here.”
“Thomas?” Jack sounded a touch suspicious.
“The stylist.” Immediately, I regretted the sarcasm that coated my answer. For a moment, I had forgotten that Jack was a part of the world of stylists. He had even once mentioned the one that prepped the band for photos.
“Thomas can wait while I do my part to get you ready for tonight.”
“And how is this--” By now, he had turned me to him and dropped to kissing it better level, and I sucked in a gasp at the first touch of his tongue. “...going to get me ready for tonight?”
He took his time with this intimate 'kiss' before answering. My fingers dug into his shoulder, my eyes helplessly on the top of his dark head. Brushing his lips against me, he whispered, “If you get nervous, just think of this.
Thinking of this was sure to get me flustered, but I wasn't going to argue the point. Unlike the shower at my house, the water in this one never turned cold. With the warmth continuing to wash over me, along with physical heat waves, I leaned against him after collapsing on his lap.
His lap that I was quickly becoming aware of... Finally, able to think, I moved my lips against his neck and my hand down offering, “Let me--”
When my fingers closed around him, he groaned and carefully moved from under me to stand before me. “All yours,” and almost before his whisper was done, he was done.
My limbs were like jello as we stepped out of the tiled stall. Ignoring the towel on the hook, he passed over another. Touching my face to it, I raised my eyes in a surprised query.
“What?” His smile was sweet, as always, enjoying the aftermath between us.
“How is it so warm?”
“Hmm? Oh the towel? Heated towel rack. It comes on when the shower does.”
“What if you're already hot?” I followed him into the bedroom.
“Too bad I guess.” His smirk did all the usual things to my insides, and warmed my heart as much as the sweet smile that had preceded it.
Jack plucked an i-pad from his side table and fell face down on the bed careful to keep his distance from my dress. Raising his head just enough and just long enough to see, he pressed at the buttons. Metal music pounded at a subdued decibel from an iPod tower in the corner of the room.
Wrapped in my warm towel I paused, mesmerized. All mass and muscles; had I ever seen a body so beautiful? My gaze lingered on the well blended tan line at his waist remembering how defined it had been that day in the tour bus, and I wondered what went on in that pool outside that caused the line to blur.
Shaking those thoughts because it was the last thing I wanted to envision after spending a day with Randi, I moved toward the room that he called his closet.
“I'm going to borrow something of yours. For my date with Thomas.”
“Watch it Mariss!” The joke rebounded quickly, but it was faint as if he were drifting into a doze.
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