I woke to the smell of greasy French fries and the sound of Jon munching away on them. I stretched and purred.
“Where are we? You have food?” I said sleepily.
“Yeah, babe. We didn’t eat since lunch. We’re on our way back to the hotel. Here, I got cookies too” he said contentedly as he handed me a bag from Tim Horton’s. He reminded me of a little boy sharing his lunch at that moment.
“Coffee?” I asked greedily.
“Would I forget your drug of choice?” he said as he pointed to the steaming Styrofoam cups in the holder next to me.
“Ooohhhh, I knew there was a reason I loved you” I beamed and took a sip and fished a cookie out of the bag. “I fell asleep” I said, rather obviously.
“I saw that” he replied, his mouth full of cookie now that whatever else he’d been eating was gone.
“So, love, how many drive-thrus did I sleep through so far?” I asked.
“Just two” he swallowed, grinning.
“Oh, good, I couldn’t have been asleep that long. I’ve seen you eat!” I laughed. “Where do you put it? There’s not an ounce of fat on you!” I marveled, as I poked him in the chest.
“I’ve been working it off lately, thanks to you!” he said, his eyes twinkling in the dim light of the limo.
He was absolutely right. In addition to how hard he worked on stage these last two nights, we’d had quite a work out. I tried to think how many times we’d made love and lost track, trying to count.
“Six times” he said then, softly. “Six times in two days. You’re going to kill me” he teased. He was right. I counted again in my head. Shit. No wonder I was tired. Why wasn’t he tired?
“Wanna make it seven?” he teased, rubbing the bulge in his pants. My eyes opened wide and I stared at him.
“Do you have bionic parts?” I stammered. He almost choked on the last sip of coffee he’d just taken.
“Nooooo”, he chuckled. “But, you know, Richie was right. I might be forty-four, but my dick thinks it’s eighteen again.”
I was amazed, and delighted, and excited. Seeing him lying back on the seat, in that black leather vest, the muscles in his arms rippling with even the slightest movement had my juices flowing again. I was no kid, either, but he was the hottest man I’d ever met and I felt like I was possessed. I reached to undo the laces of his pants, but he took my hand and stopped me.
“Baby, it’s late and you’re tired. We’ve got the rest of our lives, you know. C’mere. Just let me hold you” he crooned.
I crawled onto his lap then, and he put his arms around my waist and cradled me against him. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was tired. My disappointment gave way to relief as I realized he wasn’t tired of me. He was just tired. I looked up at his face and his eyes were closed. I brushed the hair from his forehead as he patted my back and I heard his breathing grow shallow and steady. I kissed him tenderly on his cheek and his lips curled in a sleepy smile. Soon he began to snore, ever so faintly, as I sat there, snug and secure in his arms.
I studied every line and curve on his face while he slept. The full, sensuous lips, parted ever so slightly. The smooth skin of his cheeks, flawless and perfect. The little lone freckle near his nose which made me smile. The soft, blond hair framing the face I loved so well and the tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes. I ran my hands across those broad shoulders, stopping to trace the tattoos on each one. The darker fur on his chest mingled with strands of grey, thinner now than it once was, but every bit as inviting.
I let my fingers trail across his chest, the vest open and allowing me full view of his hardened stomach, relaxed now, but still awe-inspiring. He stirred ever so slightly, and I laid my head upon his chest, and I inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of him. I placed my hand upon his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart. As I closed my eyes, I said a silent prayer to the Heavens to watch over him and keep safe forever the God of Rock. And then I slept.