The Object of His Desire -- Pt 1

Jon signalled to the barman for another round. If he was going to get through the next couple of hours then he was going to need more wine, a lot more wine. He glanced over at his shoulder at his wife who still busy talking some old family friends. They always met up with a lot of the regulars in August out at the Hamptons. He fiddled with the button on the cuff of his shirt, he was restless tonight and he didn’t know why. It wasn’t unusual for him to feel this way. The tour had been over for a few weeks so he wasn’t used to being completed relaxed. It wasn’t something he did all that well truth be told.

He handed Dot her glass of wine, kissed her temple and walked out to the wide decking that spilled onto the beach. This was a popular night spot and a little exclusive so it was easy to blend in with the crowd. He dug for a cigarette and then his lighter. Dammit it was in here somewhere. He rested his glass of Pinot down on the table and dug into his back pockets.

A flame burst into life in front of him, so he leaned in and livened up. “Thanks.” His eyes met stunning dark green ones and his heart dropped in his chest.


“Hello handsome.” She purred and clipped the heavy steel lighter cap back on.


His eyes dropped to the emerald flimsy dress that criss-crossed down her body, cut low on her breasts leaving flashes of tanned skin to admire. “Jazz, what in the...wow.” His eyes trailed all the way down her mile high legs to her matching thongs that were frosted with jewels that sparkled like the fairy lights around the deck.


She leaned back and took a puff of her cigarette, her dark red curls spilling over her creamy shoulders. “How is my rock star doing?” She glanced over the way to where his wife was.

Jon took a pull of his cigarette. “Vacation time with the family.” He picked up his glass of wine and gestured to her hand. “That’s quite the sparkler on your finger there Jazz. Who’s the lucky guy?”


She shrugged. “James, he’s a lawyer very successful.” She took a longer puff and leaned forward, her lips just millimetres from his ear. “He can’t make me come like you can though.”


Jon choked on his wine and quickly recomposed himself. Jesus. He took another swig, finished the glass and lifted his eyebrow. “I don’t think anyone can make you the way I do.” His lips curled into a smile and he half laughed.


She fluttered her eyelashes and her glossy red lips parted. “Maybe I can be reminded.” Her soft lush curves were barely inches away from his body and all he had to do was reach out and take.


His cock stirred and he cursed. Jazz and him had a long twisted history and he would have given anything to be able to drag her out the back and pound her into a wall. But him and Dot had an agreement. When she was around he didn’t stray.


“I can’t Jazz, not here. Not tonight.” He had no choice as much as it pained him to say no to her when he fully knew under that dress were full rounded breasts with perfect dusky nipples waiting for his mouth. But rules were rules.


She shrugged. “Your choice. Pity. I’d have liked to have seen what was under that shirt.” She winked and picked up her glass and walked off leaving Jon in the wake from the sway of her hips.

He growled. Now he had a hard on and Dot had already indicated earlier when they were getting ready she wasn’t in that kind of mood tonight. He closed his eyes and let the warm sea breeze whip around him before heading back inside.

“There you are honey. The Bannerman's are here. Remember Jesse plays La Crosse with their son Jared.”


Jon smiled as a middle aged couple joined them and they got talking about sports and their children. The bar filled up with more holiday goers and the liquor was flowing freely. Jon was distracted, listening, smiling and nodding, but his eyes were somewhere else. She was back at the bar and her musical laugh floated over the sultry beach beats that the bar was playing. Her fingers were curled around some fridge of a guy's arm at the bar who hanging off her every word.


“Jon?”


He looked up. “Drinks, who needs more drinks?”


Dot looked at their company. “Ah sure we could do a bottle of wine—“ He didn't wait for her to answer and made a beeline to the bar. He rested his foot on the bottom railing that wrapped right around the tall mahogany bar.

“Bottle of Pinot and four glasses my man.”


Jazz turned and away from Fridge man and faced the bar, her finger lazily drew circles around the rim of her glass. “Back already?”


Jon’s eyes narrowed and jaw tightened. “I know what you’re trying to do. And it’s not going to work.”

She lifted her glass to her lips. “And what’s that Jon?” Her brilliant green eyes shone with mischief.


“You’re trying to tease me. I don’t like to be teased.” He picked a pile of twenties from his wallet and slid it back in his jeans pocket. He handed the barman the notes.


“Oh yea?” She plucked her lipstick from her purse and applied it slowly.


God.


She snapped the lid back on and popped her lips. “I think I might blow him.”


Jon’s cock hardened and he chuckled. “You have no intention of blowing anyone in this bar except me.” He wished he’d chosen his words more carefully as images flashed through his mind of her perfectly colored lips around his cock and her clever hands around his balls.


She licked her lips and he wished for hell. “I was always so good at that, wasn’t I?”


Her eyes fell to his pants and she smiled. “It’s just a matter of time Jon. I’ll give you thirty minutes and if you’re not making me scream like a banshee outside somewhere. I’m leaving with this guy. Now if you’ll excuse-“


He clasped her wrist and leaned in close. “He’ll be a disappointment and you know it. Look how many beers he’s had. I’d be surprised if he could keep it up for more than five minutes.”


She broke his grasp and her knee bumped against him, her belly pressed against his groin. “Take me outside and fuck me. It’s us Jon. You can’t say no to that.”


He wanted to. Oh fuck how he wanted to. Jazz and him went a long way back. She first appeared in his life in 1998 in London and they’d had a whirlwind fuck-fest before he’d come back to the States never expecting to see her again. Three years later she’d appeared at a charity gig he was at and they’d rekindled the sex but for that night only. She appeared sometimes every six months or so and sometimes years apart. Jon never knew what she did for a career, and he didn’t want to know. The less he knew about her the better.


The last time he’d seen her was on the last leg of the Lost Highway Tour in Chicago and they’d fucked in his hotel suite most of the night. And now, now he was in the Hamptons with his family for fucks sake. It just wasn’t going to happen.


He thanked the barman and collected the bottle of wine and the glasses. “You know I would. But I can’t and you know why.” He left her there and returned to his party. His cock was so hard it ached and he knew he’d be pounding one out at home in the shower later.


It wasn’t like she was the only woman that would fuck him but there was something, something he couldn't explain when they connected on that level. They both used it for an outlet. There was no denying that’s all it was. Good eye-rolling-in-the-back- of-your-head sex.

The bar switched the music up to racy beats and Jon groaned when Jazz took the Fridge by the hand and led him to the makeshift dance floor. She flashed him a grin as she floated around the dance floor like a woman made for seduction. Hell she was. The wispy green material floated around her legs as she swayed the tips of her breasts peaked under the flimsy fabric.

That pounded orgasm might just have to be in the men’s room if he was going to survive the night.

Fuck.