24 - Chinese Chicken and Trust

“You like football?”

Sheridan fastened her bra with a knowing grin and picked up her t-shirt.  Jon was on the other side of the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of zipped jeans.  “You got laid so now you want your real Sunday afternoon fix?”

He laughed, meeting her at the foot of the bed and rubbing his open palms up her arms, from wrist to elbows.  Goosebumps danced up her still-bare legs at the combination of his touch and the contented twinkle in his eyes.

“I’m pretty damn happy with the fix I already got.  But…”  His chin tipped arrogantly up, accompanied by a shrug.  “I wouldn’t object if you wanted to hang out on the couch and watch a game.  Knowing your wily ways, you could probably even talk me into having Chinese delivered.  I know this great place.”

He’s the same guy, but different. His head didn’t go someplace else after his orgasm, and he wants to ‘hang out’? 

This Jon had the potential to be dangerous to her softer side, but she couldn’t find it in herself to complain.  Sheridan dusted her lips over the faint cleft in his chin and eased away to slip on her t-shirt.  “I’m in.  Giants are on NBC at 8:20, and we use my Chinese place.”

“Your Chinese place?  I don’t know about that.  How about we order from both places?  That way you can experience the best Chinese takeout in this part of the city.” 

Sheridan pushed her head through the shirt’s neck and dislodged her hair from the collar and running a hand through it.  She was willing to agree to double take-out, but knew that she wouldn’t be changing her mind about the Red Egg.  There was no better Schezuan chicken that she’d found.  Ever. 

As she was about to explain, his eyes fell to her chest and he drew back with an unhappy frown creasing his face.  “And what the hell is with that shirt?”

“What?”  Confused, she pulled the faded black cotton away from her body until she could easily see the distressed winged logo associated with one of her favorite bands.  “I like Aerosmith and the shirt is comfortable.”

“You like Aerosmith or you like Steve Tyler?”

So that’s what he was worried about?  Seriously?  If that was the case, there was no way she could resist the temptation to tease.  Sheridan grinned wickedly as Jon curled possessive arms around her waist. 

“Steven Tyler's okay, but I’m more into guitar players than lead singers.  Have you ever seen the video for ‘The Other Side’?”  Fanning her face, she heatedly informed him, “Lord… have… mercy!  Joe Perry is sex on a six string.”

Jon’s arms tightened with a low growl.  “Guitarists bring on that kind of reaction?  I was worried about how Richie was gonna act around you.   Now I’m worried about you being near Richie.”

Giggling softly, she snaked her hand up the back of his neck and into his hair, hesitating for a split second before deciding, What the hell?  We’re supposedly dating.

She pulled his face close, initiating a kiss for the first time since Jamaica.  Damn if it didn’t feel good to have that right.

“Mmm…” he purred into her mouth, snugging his hips into hers and nibbling lightly at her bottom lip.  “In all fairness, I should warn you about something.”

The serious tone of voice had her worried that he was about to change the traditional definition of dating.  Or that he suddenly developed an aversion to her kisses. 

Stop being a high school girl.

“What should you tell me?”

Jon sighed, bringing his forehead to rest against hers while his hands lazily kneaded her cotton covered bottom.  “When Richie tells you his dick is bigger than mine – and make no mistake, it’ll happen – it’ll be true.”

The giggle that spilled out of her like a bubbling fountain wouldn’t be contained.  She didn’t believe for a second that he was insecure, but the illusion of it was adorable.  Soft whiskers tickled when she rubbed an open palm over his jaw and assured him in all seriousness, “It’s okay.  He can’t possibly have a bigger dick than you are.  The size prize goes to you, without a doubt.”

His delighted laughter washed over her, enticing another bout of giggling and making her insides smile.  Her outside joined in the smile when he said, “I like your style, Ms. King.  You’re gonna keep me on my toes.”

❧❧❧

Still amused by the fact that his Chinese place was the same as her Chinese place, Jon heard her thank the delivery boy and close the door, prompting him to rise off the couch.  The least he could do was see what was left in the honor bar that might go with the Schezuan chicken she was putting on the counter.    

That was if he could find it.  Wrinkling his forehead, he spun on his bare heel, looking around the combined kitchen/dining area.  Last time he was here, the little black refrigerator was next to the island.

“Sheridan?”

“Hmmm?”  Her reply was muffled as she got plates for their food. 

“Where’s the honor bar?”

The cabinet door thunked loudly shut and she carefully placed the stacked dishes on the counter.  She avoided looking at him as she busied herself with emptying the brown paper bag of the chicken and its accessories. 

“I gave it away.”

What the hell?

“Okay.  Why?”

She dropped the first aluminum pan, swearing softly when the heat from it burned her, and he stepped in to take the bag and pull out the other one.  Jon also dumped out the variety of sauces, fortune cookies and chopsticks, and then folded the bag while she opened a drawer to produce two dark cloth napkins.

“The truth?” she asked, casually bumping the drawer closed with her hip.

“Not a big fan of being lied to.”

“Good.  Neither am I.”  Dropping the napkins on top of the plates, she nodded and scooped it all up, transferring it to the island where the aluminum containers steamed.  Turning to face him, she said bluntly, “It reminded me how easily I let myself become a whore for you.”

She might as well have punched him in the gut.  The impact couldn’t have hit him any harder.

“You were never a whore,” he quietly declared, his first instinct to wrap her in his arms, but unsure as to whether his embrace would be welcome or rebuffed.  Was this going to turn ugly so soon after they’d found a comfortable harmony together?

For now, she was calmly serving portions of chicken onto their plates.  “I tried to tell you that woman in Jamaica didn’t really exist, mostly because I had to drag her out of an honor bar.  Then you beat on the door of my real life, insisting that she come out and play again.  The hell of it was that she really wanted to, so I used the honor bar to coax her out.  Whatever it says about me, I enjoyed the freedom of who I was with you.”

He accepted one of the dishes and put it on the counter behind him, having no interest in food at the moment. 

“When you politely thanked me for the good time and went on your way…”  She shrugged, gingerly placing an eggroll at the edge of her own dinner and tipping her chin so that he was looking directly into her eyes.  “…that little refrigerator mocked me and made me feel used.”

This is why you don’t look back when you walk away.  You stepped in it.  If she’s worth the trouble, now you have to be a man and scrape it off your shoe.

“I’m sorry,” he told her with heartfelt sincerity, taking the food pan from her and setting it aside.   Keeping a wary eye peeled for signs that this was going to hell in a hand basket, Jon brought gentle palms to rest atop her shoulders.  “I really am.  It was never my intention to make you feel that way.”

“But you did.”  There was no heat or accusation in either her voice or her eyes.  The words were simply stated as truth.  “What I need to know is if I can trust you not to do it again?”

That was a good goddamn question.  He’d become a professional at love ‘em and leave ‘em in his lifetime.  Who was to say he wasn’t going to revert to the same old song and dance?

You’re to say, dumbass.

“I could say yes without hesitation, but would that make you believe me?” he queried gently. 

“Probably not.”

“Then why don’t I answer by asking for the chance to earn your trust?”

He knew it was the right thing to say when her lips twisted into a reluctant grin.  “Politician in the making, right there ladies and gentlemen.  Rock and Roll Hall of Fame be damned. He’s headed for the White House.”

“Not a chance in hell,” he chuckled, brushing a thumb along her cheekbone.   “Those skeletons in my closet are having too much fun partying every night.”

It was an effort not to purr with relief when she smoothed her hands over his bare chest and kissed the underside of his jaw.  This had a chance to go somewhere.  He knew it, and it gave him a little thrill, the likes of which he hadn't felt in a very long time.

“Kitten?”

“Yes, Tiger?”

Jon was inordinately pleased by the impromptu nickname.  Dumb as hell, but it still made him smile and cinch his arms tightly around her.

“Come to LA with me this weekend.”

Soft blond tendrils tickled his shoulder when she tipped her head up with a curious expression.  “LA?  What for?”

“Richie’s Christmas party.”

“What?”  Her eyes went wide and she clasped a palm to her chest.  “I get to meet him?  The big-dick-bragging guitarist?”

“Jesus.  He needs that on a mug!”  Richie would be thrilled to have her think of him that way.  The man had no shame and a whole lot of penile pride.  “But do you think you can refrain from calling him that to his face?”

“Why?  Will he be offended?”

“Offended?” Jon snorted.  “No.  He’s liable to drag it out so you can admire it.  I don’t wanna have to kill my best friend for coming onto my girlfriend.”

She grinned cheekily, but didn't speak.

Frowning, he was unable to decide if it meant she was going to say it to Richie anyway, or if she liked the idea of being called his girlfriend. 

“What’s that shit-eating grin for?”

“Oh nothing,” she assured him, innocently batting her big green eyes.  “I was just wondering if Joe Perry lives in LA, too.”

He fixed her with a stern look and dropped his hand to sharply pinch her ass.  “No.  He does-fucking-not.  Best you can hope for is to meet my brother Tony.  He does live in LA.”

“Oh,” she sighed, pretending to be crestfallen while twirling a finger in his chest hair.  “Okay.  If you’re sure, then I guess I can make myself content with the world’s best Schezuan chicken, the Giants and amazing sex with ONE of the hottest rock stars in the world.  If I must.”