Chapter 35

Jon entered his room, kicked off his boots, pulled off his shirt and glanced towards the door to Veronica’s room. Padding over, he opened the door on his side and listened but didn’t hear any noise on the other side. He debated for a moment then reached for the knob. It was locked. He knocked lightly. “Nica?” No answer. He raked a hand through his hair in frustration, his stomach sinking at the feeling that he was right back at square one. He stripped off the rest of his clothes, pulled back the covers and stretched out on the bed to stare at the ceiling and ponder his next move.

Veronica had been asleep for a couple hours when the nightmare came again – not as disturbing and intense as it had been, but enough to wake her. She lay for several minutes waiting for her heart rate and breathing to return to normal, shivering with a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. She knew from experience that even as tired as she was, it would be some time before her nerves settled and she warmed enough to be able to sleep again - and hope that the dream didn’t come again, which it often did lately. Maybe it won’t tonight. It only came the once last night. Of course that once was enough to last her a lifetime. It hadn’t been that intense in eighteen years. But the usual after effects – the deep down coldness, and repeat dreams – hadn’t come. She’d slept through the rest of the night undisturbed. Of course, she hadn’t been alone, but that had never stopped the dream before. She eyed the connecting door. Could that be it? Was it him – telling him, letting him comfort me and hold me that made the difference?

Half an hour later, she gave up – or gave in, depending on how you looked at it, rose from the bed and headed for the connecting door. There she hesitated again, but the need for peaceful sleep outweighed the possible repercussions of letting Jon get too close. At least that was the story she was telling herself. Taking a deep breath she flicked the lock and opened the door. She wasn’t surprised to find the door on Jon’s side open. Moonlight streaming through the windows illuminated the room enough for her to make her way to the bed without tripping. Standing at the side she gazed down at him. He was laying on his back, in the middle of the bed, the arm closest to her flung over his head, the sheets bunched around his waist, baring his chest. In the dim light she didn’t notice the blue eyes watching her.

Jon had been dozing when the snick of the lock and the sound of the door opening brought him fully awake. Her tentative movements made her reluctance to be there obvious and he remained motionless, afraid to move for fear that he’d scare her off. When she stood beside the bed it took all of his self control to just wait to see what she would do and not reach for her.

Veronica shivered, slipped into the bed and curled against him. Her head had barely settled onto his shoulder and her hand on his chest when his arm came down to hold her there and the other came up to rub her arm. After several minutes of silence she sighed, relaxed and snuggled closer, her fingers tangling in his thick fur.

He squeezed her lightly. “Nica? What’s wrong hon..” Her fingers pressed against his lips, cutting off the flow of words.

She tilted her head and searched his eyes. “I’m cold Johnny. So cold.”

Jon kissed her fingers, pulled up the blankets and rubbed as much of her as he could reach. Her skin didn’t feel cold, but he could feel her deep shivering which told him it was an emotional chill, not a physical one. He hugged her tighter.

Veronica huddled against him absorbing the heat he radiated like a furnace. It helped, but it wasn’t enough. Her hand flattened over the thick muscle of his pec, then skimmed over his chest. At the same time she tilted her head and stretched up to kiss, lick and nibble his Adam’s apple.

Jon closed his eyes and swallowed heavily at his body’s response to her touch. “Nica?” It was a whispered growl.

Her lips traced a path down his neck and onto his chest. “I need you to warm me Johnny.” Her breath was a hot gust over the nailhead of his nipple.

He moaned softly as she teased with tongue and teeth before finally closing her lips around the small nub and sucking. She shifted over him to reach his other nipple and give it the same treatment. His hands rose to her shoulders and smoothed down her back. Her hand drifted over his stomach, noting the spasms of the muscles at her touch. Moving lower still, she discovered that he still slept naked when her hand came into contact with his rapidly hardening erection. Veronica glanced up to watch his eyes darken and glitter as she closed her hand around him and stroked.

His fingers clenched in the cotton of her nightgown and tugged. She frowned. “You won’t need it sugar. I’ll keep you warm. I promise.” With a slight nod she let him remove it, then once again took him in hand.

She alternated between teasing touches and rhythmic squeezes, detouring periodically to cup and stroke the soft sac underneath the hard shaft. A fine sheen of sweat formed on Jon’s skin, and his breathing became laboured at her gentle exploration. She knew where his sensitive spots were and just how to touch him. She’d always had magic fingers where he was concerned. She was killing him, but it had been so long since he’d felt like this he was determined take it as long as he possibly could. When her thumb circled his swollen tip and her hand closed around him and squeezed, his control broke.

With a low growl and a quick move Jon pulled her hand away and rolled her beneath him. His mouth captured hers, his tongue sliding between her teeth to taste her thoroughly. Meanwhile, his hands roamed her arms and torso, warming her. She sighed in appreciation, her hands doing some exploring of their own.

Breaking the kiss, he slid his mouth down her neck and upper chest to the peak of one breast. Here he paused to lick and blow on her nipple, causing it to harden even more, before taking it between his lips to scrape gently with his teeth. Veronica gasped, moaned, and slid her hands into his hair to pull him closer. He chuckled when she whimpered and arched her back. Blue eyes met violet, both glittering with passion. She raised a brow at him and her hands tugged. He grinned around the sensitive nub, then closed his lips and suckled. Hard. She cried out.

After a few minutes he lifted his head, shifted and gave her other breast the same treatment. For several minutes he alternated back and forth making sure he gave equal attention to both plump mounds. Her hips began to move involuntarily in rhythm with the pull of his mouth.

Her hands dropped to his shoulders and tugged. “Johnny! Now Johnny! I need you now!”

Jon slid one hand down her abdomen, over her undulating hips to the pulsing fleshing at the apex of her thighs to check her readiness. He couldn’t wait any longer either, but he was afraid of hurting her. He needn’t have worried. She was drenched. Two fingers slid inside her slick channel just to be sure. She moaned and curled her fingers, nails biting.

He shifted to cover her, settling his hips between her thighs and filling her with one slow thrust. He was trembling with the effort it took to be gentle and not pound into her like he wanted to. Buried to the hilt, he held still, savouring the feel of her under him and around him, a moan rumbling deep in his throat. She clutched him to her and lifted her hips, urging him on. He obliged, thrusting rhythmically, gently, slowly.

Veronica groaned at the feel of his flesh stretching hers. She had thought that the incredible sensations she’d experienced the night before were because of the emotional outpouring that had preceded their coupling. She was wrong. She’d had other lovers after Jon, but although she’d enjoyed the encounters, something had always been...missing. The lack that she’d felt, she’d figured was hers, her own inability to connect, to....trust... at that deeper level. Or maybe those men were just not a great match physically. She didn’t know for sure. What she did know, was that this, this merging of bodies and needs felt....right. Where others had left her wanting, Jon seemed to know how to satisfy her to the depths of her soul. The thought that she might never find anyone else that could do that, that she would always feel unfulfilled, was a cold, black hole inside her, and she pushed it away.

She stroked the long muscles of his back and set her mouth to the smooth skin of his neck and shoulder. His response was a deeper thrust that pushed her over the edge. Jon rode out the spasms of her orgasm, then held still and rose up onto his elbows. One hand brushed her hair back from her flushed face. He chuckled. “Still rushing huh? You haven’t learned to slow down and make it last?”

“Why should I?” She panted and flexed her internal muscles around his embedded erection. “When I can have more.”

He closed his eyes and groaned at the feel of her gripping him. “Do that again.”

It was her turn to chuckle. “This?” She squeezed harder.

“Oh God yes!” He started to move again, he couldn’t help himself.

Veronica urged him to lie fully on her, and wrapped her arms and legs around him when he complied and clung to him. The ride was still slow and gentle - and only slightly longer – but this time when her body clamped down he went over the edge with her, a guttural moan escaping his throat as his body pumped out its release.

As he lay on her, shuddering, spent, trying to catch his breath, he waited...and hoped....and smiled in relief when she kissed his shoulder and hugged him. Lifting his head he kissed her softly, then sucked in a deep breath, withdrew from her body and collapsed onto his back, pulling her into his arms.

They lay there in silence for several minutes, his hand caressing her hip, hers playing idly with his fur. He hesitated to disturb the peaceful, sated mood, and he didn’t want to upset her again, but he needed to know. “Can I ask you a question?”

She sighed, knowing by his hesitant tone that it had something to do with the baby. As much as she didn’t want to talk about it, Richie had been right. She needed to and Jon had a right to know. “Go ahead.”

“Did you name him?”

She swallowed. “Yes. Andrew John.” After her father and his.

Jon squeezed her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Where did you....” He didn’t even know how to ask the question. “Where is he?”

Her eyes filled. “Chicago. With my parents.”

He felt oddly relieved and comforted that his son wasn’t alone and was with family. Still, it was quite awhile before he was able to sleep.