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"Good evening, San Francisco!" Heath called. As bad as Meredith's shows were getting, Heath's were getting that much better. He was interacting more, his performances were amazing, and crowd response was getting more and more frenetic.
And the audience had just begun to not come to Meredith's show, coming later and later and ignoring her performance. She was opening to half filled seats, and audiences who were talking and texting during her show. It had begun during the LA shows, and it was very obvious during the San Francisco show. Like when she was in LA, Meredith left the stage to cry to her friends.The energy level went way up while the crew set up for Heath's show, and the seats filled up during the thirty minute break. The crowd was rocking and rolling by the time he took the stage.
MJ watched from the wings, like she always did, unable to take her eyes off him. He was so sexy. MJ wondered if Heath knew he could walk off stage, grab her, and have his way with her, right then, every single night if he wanted to. The way he sang, with his eyes closed, the way he swayed, leading with his hips, the way his pants curved just right...damn, he was fine.
The show was already nearing the end, and Heath had performed his new songs, which were very well received, and were racing up the charts.
MJ looked across the stage and saw Meredith, watching Heath, just as intently as she, MJ, had been.
WTF?
She, MJ, was allowed. She, MJ, was his girlfriend, his lover, his chosen.
Meredith was no one, nothing.
MJ felt prick of jealousy in her chest.
Meredith flicked her eyes to the audience, which was swaying along with Heath, eight thousand sets of eyes riveted to his every move.
MJ's jealousy melted away.
Poor Meredith.
She tuned in to Heath's words when she heard her name.
WTF?
"I didn't tell her about this, because, as we all know, MJ is a shy flower, and she never would've agreed. If I'd told her in advance, she'd breaking the sound-speed barrier somewhere in Canada by now. But like I said, she's been signed to a label, my label, and she's working on an album, and you lot are going to get a sneak preview of some of the songs on that upcoming album, you lucky--erm--people, you," he finished with his signature smile.
He looked over at MJ, still smiling, as MJ looked back, shaking her head.
"Now now, darling, no shaking your head, please, you're just going to sing a couple of the wonderful, beautiful songs you've written and sing so well, songs you know like the back of our hand, yeah? And your good friend Heath is going to back you up because he's so good at it, isn't he?" He made scooting motions toward himself. "Come on, come on," he repeated. "No more of this nonsense, MJ."
MJ saw Meredith staring at her, a molten look that could've liquefied metal. MJ swallowed hard, and stepped out on stage to tumultuous applause, reaching out for Heath's hand. He kissed her hand as he grasped it, causing the audience to give a collective gasp and an "Awww," of longing. Heath turned to the audience with a raised eyebrow, shaking his head, before turning back and picking up his guitar.
"You could've told me, I wouldn't have run away," MJ contradicted him as she picked up her guitar and tuned it."
"Please, you could've qualified for the Olympic sprinting team, you would've been running so fast," Heath retorted with a grin.
"The Olympics doesn't have a sprinting team, plonker," MJ murmured.
"Oh, that's nice," Heath huffed, blinking as he sat on the stool. "That's it, no sex for you tonight. My body is closed for business."
MJ snorted and nearly dropped her guitar. "Please, Heath, don't make me snarf boogers out my nose in front of eight thousand people, okay?" She strummed a chord and looked at him. "Shall we start with 'Love You More Than Anything'?" she asked with a straight face.
Heath, too, managed to keep a straight face for a few beats, then his face crumbled into uncontrollable laughter. "Yeah, let's start with that one," he finally agreed, leaning over to kiss her cheek.
As Heath straightened up, MJ saw Meredith again, with that look in her eyes.
MJ was sure no one had ever hated her more than Meredith Renner had.
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The next day MJ got her first review. In a five paragraph piece in the Arts and Entertainment section of the Sunday edition, her part in the concert got its own write up, a positive piece in which she was compared favorably to Adele, Amy Winehouse, and even a young, more refined Janis Joplin.
In addition to getting his own positive review, Heath was mentioned in MJ's review also, being called her Svengali, with a couple of references to Pygmalion. "While the relationship between Heath Spencer and Meadow Rain isn't yet clear, it's obvious he's played a huge part in nurturing her, in being the Svengali to MJ's Trilby, though definitely in a much more wholesome way."
Heath laughed and turned to MJ, who was sitting next to him on the plane. "You hear that, my love? I'm your Svengali!"
"Svengali was a horrible man, an evil person," MJ pointed out.
"I was called 'Pygmalion' as well," Heath said. "Pygmalion ended quite happily, as I recall." He sat back, smirking.
MJ just looked out the window, but turned back to Heath after only a few seconds. "Did you notice the paper didn't mention Meredith at all?" she asked, lowering her voice, even though Meredith was on the other end of the first class cabin.
Heath nodded. "Yeah, that's the best part."
"I can't but feel like we're going to pay for this," MJ said, snuggling into Heath's side.
"You worry too much," Heath responded. "Now go to sleep, and dribble on my shoulder. That's an order."
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Much later, after they were settled into their suite in Seattle, they were having a different kind of argument.
"Why? Just tell me, give me one good reason why, and I'll stop bugging you."
"Fuck it all, I can't! Why isn't it enough that I say so?"
Frustrated brown eyes glared at hooded dark blue eyes.
They were dressed for bed, with Heath in cut-off sweats, and MJ in her tie-dye cami knickers that he liked so much. Heath was sitting up in bed, and MJ was sitting on the edge of it, arms crossed.
"But I talked to people! I practiced! I think I know how! Are you afraid that I'll be bad at it? That I'll blow at it?"
They both heard her words and tried not to be the first to laugh.
Heath, finally, couldn't help it and cracked a smile.
"Oh, Jesus, I can't believe we're arguing about this." He scooted forward and rubbed MJ's back. She tried, but not very hard, to shrug his hand away.
"I don't want you to because--erm--it reminds me of--another time," he finally finished lamely.
MJ whirled to look at him. "What? I can't blow you because it reminds you of another blowjob you got from someone else?"
"Shit," Heath enunciated clearly, running his hand through his long hair, which looked pretty damned sexy to MJ. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. "Okay, I'm just going to tell you. Now you have to promise to keep loving me, and not to hate me and leave me, yeah?" He looked into her eyes. "Promise?"
MJ stared at him in alarm. She nodded. "Promise."
Heath sighed. "Okay. When I was much younger. When I was first in The Jacks. There were girls all over us, you know?"
MJ nodded.
"So, well, blowies was the fastest, easiest, least personal, least involved, thing to do, you know? We could get them anywhere, they took practically no time, they definitely took no effort, they felt amazing--"
"Yeah, okay, I get it, I get it," MJ cut him off with a smile.
"So that was all we were interested in, for the most part," Heath finished. "All of us guys. We'd even have contests some nights, like who could get the most blowies--"
"Eww, Heath," MJ made a face of distaste.
"See?" Heath ran his hand through his hair again. "So I didn't want to do that with you, you see? Something that would bring back that time of fast, anonymous orgasms in dark hallways or the backs of cars--" troubled blue eyes regarded her, looking worried about what she was thinking.
"Okay," MJ said, nodding. "I understand what you're saying. But if you think about it, everything you do with me, you've done, countless times, with someone else, right?"
She pulled her cami over her head in one smooth motion, shaking her hair out in that way he loved, smiling at him, making him smile back. Her breasts swayed back and forth fetchingly.
Heath swallowed and nodded, bringing his eyes from her front to her face with an effort.
MJ nodded back and swung his legs so they hung off the bed. She leaned in so her front was kind of in his lap as she reached up to kiss him, lingeringly, with lips that were hot and soft, like country ripe peaches. Heath could feel the heavy weight of her breasts on top of his thighs, and between them, and he could feel the blood pounding in his head.
"So, really, does it matter how many blowies you got when you were a teenager?" She grasped his sweats at the waist and eased them down. Heath lifted his hips without even being asked, as MJ carefully lifted them over the growing bulge in his front. She slid them down his legs and tossed them aside.
"Hm?" MJ asked. MJ moved his legs apart, and rubbed her full, smooth, hot breasts on him. Heath hadn't even realized he had an erection already, but there he was, like an iron rod, wow.
He racked his brain trying to remember what she'd asked him, what she wanted him to answer, but he couldn't, he had no idea. He couldn't think beyond the velvety smoothness that was sliding up and down on him. He couldn't stop looking at how they looked between her hands, with the hard, pink nipples poking him as she moved up and down on him.
Somehow he'd thought this was going to be a blowie, but if something didn't change, and really soon, he was going to go off before her mouth got anywhere near him.
Heath swallowed and tried to remember to breathe as he continued to watch the glorious sight in front of him.
The next time she moved her hands down, MJ leaned forward and put her mouth on the exposed tip of him, just for a tantalizing moment, making Heath hiss at the sensation. She did this again and again, for a little longer each time, a bit more suction, a bit lower, a bit wetter.
Ahhh.
Finally, she let go of her breasts, so the could just swing prettily, and put one hand back on him, grasping firmly, using the spit that was coming from her mouth, spreading it evenly all over. She used her other hand to grasp his testicles gently, while her mouth and tongue continued to lick and suck on his tip.
She flicked her eyes up to him to see his reaction, and seeing her eyes, the eyelashes curling toward her brows, with the pupils dilated in those gorgeous brown irises, made him throb and catch his breath. He had to close his eyes to hold on to his control.
He looked down at her body, at her tummy, below her breasts, at her curved hips in the knickers, at her cute knees where she knelt. Oh my god she was so sexy.
Why had he not wanted her to do this again?
She began sucking much harder and taking as much of him as she could, making loud slurping noises as she opened her throat up, and that ended it for Heath.
He grabbed her hair, began to moan, and in about ten seconds, he murmured, "I'm going to come, really hard, MJ, you want that in your mouth, or you want me to come out, darling?"
MJ remained where she was and grasped his hips in answer, so he tightened his grip on her hair, and tried not to push too hard when his thrusts got sloppy. He could feel himself shooting deep into her throat, and the sensation was marvelous.
"Oh god, MJ, this feels incredible," he groaned.
She finally swallowed when he was finished, and moved away from him, wiping her mouth on her shirt before leaning up for the kiss he knew she'd earned.
She laughed, a happy sound.
"Told you!" she crowed.
"Yes you did, didn't you?" he agreed, kissing her again.
Minutes later, as they were dropping off to sleep, he asked, "So who did you talk to about that? Who gave you the advice?"
"I'll never tell," MJ said, laughing.
Heath immediately put his arms around her and pulled her close. "Who?"
"Really? You really want to know?" she teased.
"Yeah." He kissed her nose. "Now tell me."
"Poppy." MJ hid he face in his chest.
"What?" Heath was aghast. "You'e joking, right?"
MJ shook her head.
"Oh dear god," Heath groaned. "I'm going to need therapy."
MJ laughed again. "I, on the other hand, have a life skill that will help me forever, with every man I ever meet!"
"What?"
Much tickling ensued, which turned to snuggling.
"I love you, MJ. I really, really love you."
"I know. And I really, really love you, too."
"And I love how you give blowies as well."
"What?"
"Just being honest, darling!"