For the first time since she found him waiting for her, Francesca really looked at JC. Not just his eyes or his mouth — all of his face. She took in his tired countenance and his beard... His beard? That certainly was new! She ran a palm over his bristled jaw, testing the feel of his whiskers.
“I—umm... I haven’t shaved in several days,” JC murmured. “My beard grows pretty fast and heavy.”
She smiled. “I’ve never kissed a man with a beard before.”
“Wanna try it out?” he offered with a hint of a smile.
“I think I do.”
Taking her face tenderly between both hands, he leaned close. He began with soft brief kisses. Once she acquiesced he deepened the caresses.
Instead of finding the scrape of beard uncomfortable she found it strangely erotic. Her arms went around his neck as she pressed closer.
It had been too damned long since he’d held her, since he’d kissed her, JC thought, reveling in her ready response. Francesca had been right. Parties were a poor substitute for being with her. Being seen couldn’t take the place of a warm, vibrant, responsive woman in your arms! Without breaking their mouths apart he lifted her in his arms, heading toward the bedroom.
Feeling her back hit the mattress, Francesca willingly surrendered.
“Baby...” JC murmured as his mouth made a foray down her throat. “I swear you taste ever better than before.”
“Maybe you forgot?” she asked breathlessly as his fingers went to the buttons of her blouse.
“I don’t know if I could forget such sweetness.”
“You’ve had some practice...”
He kissed her hard and deep. “Don’t, Gypsy. I made a mistake — one I don’t plan on making again.”
There was a hint of hurt in her response. “See that you don’t.”
Her pain wounded him in a way he hadn’t expected. That was the difference in the love he was experiencing with Francesca. He’d rather lose a limb then disappoint her again. He also realized she was a capable, independent woman who wouldn’t hesitate to cut him loose rather than suffer for his love. JC would have to make sure that didn’t happen.
“JC?” Francesca became aware he had grown thoughtful and the lovemaking had stopped.
Moving to her side, he stroked her hair back from her eyes. “Feel like going out for dinner?”
“Now?” Hadn’t he brought her to bed for make up sex?
“Uh-huh.”
“Instead of?...”
“Instead of making your forgiveness about sex? Yeah, I thought we could have a quiet dinner and catch up.”
“Mister Chasez, sometimes you confound and amaze me,” she mused with a small shake of her head.
“Dinner?” he questioned.
“Will there be great make up sex later?”
Chuckling, JC rolled to his feet and offered her a hand up. “Count on it.”
Dinner was Chinese at a great little place only locals knew. They fed each other with chopsticks. Francesca told JC about a difficult renovation she was doing and the chauvinistic contractor she was forced to deal with. He listened and commiserated. He couldn’t ‘fix’ this problem as much as he wanted to. JC discussed his second solo project, some of the people he was working with — and his nagging fear the record company wasn’t really behind him. She assured him she would support him if only from the background — Francesca teasingly added, “Even if I don’t know who you are.” Her gentle taunt lightened his mood considerably, reminding him she loved him for him.
After dinner they went to an intimate club down the block from her place. It only took a few grinding dances for the couple to ignite. Francesca took JC’s hand, leading him from the dance floor and out the door. The short walk to her building cooled them momentarily. In the elevator she rubbed her face and neck against his bristled jaw, relishing the sensual scrape of his beard, encouraging his less than gentle lovemaking.
A messy trail left as clothes were lost on the way to her bedroom. By the time the comforter was torn back to the foot of the bed, they were naked. Following her down to the mattress, JC buried his face between her breasts, breathing her in.
It hit him hard. He’d almost lost her. Through his carelessness he’d nearly loss this one female who owned his heart, who gave him what no other woman had ever given him... And even after his thoughtless actions he’d been given a second chance — in reality a third chance! “Sweet gypsy girl...” he whispered lifting his head to kiss her tenderly.
Aware he once more was changing his tactics, Francesca looked him in the eye. “You had better not tell me we’re stopping again. If you do, I am so going to get that mold of your dick since I can’t rely on the real thing,” she warned jokingly.
JC shook his head with a bemused smile. “No, I don’t want to stop. I want to savor every second.”
“That sounds like it could take too long.”
“Damn, woman, I’m trying to appreciate you!” he told her on a laugh. Another thing he had to admire about her — she made love fun and unexpected.
And she truly did recognize the value of his ready acknowledgement. Having brothers, she realized many men couldn’t verbalize what their women meant to them. She rolled her eyes teasingly. “That is really sweet of you. Now fuck me for God’s sake!”
“Demanding female,” he grumbled good-naturally.
Francesca shoved him to his back. “I see I need to take control here — to get this done sooner than later.”
He merely grinned up at her, not minding her taking charge in the least. “I won’t even say ‘be gentle’.”
“Not a chance,” she quipped. Leaning over him, she nipped at his throat. “I want to feel that beard everywhere.”
“Not worried about whisker burn I take it.”
“Never had it.”
Grabbing her, JC playfully rubbed his face along her neck and lower to her breasts. The prickle of whiskers made her nipples tightened. Instead of lingering to taste them, he drew his face over her satiny ribs and belly. He waited a brief moment to see if she would protest the fact her delicate skin was colored and scraped by the rough texture of his facial hair; none came. If anything she seemed to be enjoying it. Leave it to his unpredictable gypsy girl not to mind whisker burn! Moving still lower, he stroked his cheeks along the inner faces of her thighs. He couldn’t help but notice how swollen and aroused she was. Now there was one place he refused to abuse!
Instead of whiskers Francesca felt him drop delicate kisses along the length of her feminine slit. His tongue outlined them, urging them to open further for his exploration. And a very thorough exploration it was!
“JC...” she moaned, her legs moved restlessly until he clamped firm hands on her thighs to hold her still. She continued to squirm, her skin being abraded by his rough beard, as he made love to her with his tongue and lips. She whimpered and cried out as he ruthlessly drove her to a cataclysmic completion.
JC sat back on his heels, watching her until the last tremors shook her. She lay limp and helpless. Her ivory skin had a warm pink glow from whisker burn and a sheen from perspiration. Something strictly primitive male rose in him. Wild and base, he was thoroughly inflamed as early man must have been when he had a female captive. He had already conquered her; now he needed to mate with her, leave his seed behind. A feral growl escaped his lips.
Opening her eyes at the sound, Francesca was shocked and aroused at what she saw in his eyes. This was her mostly gentle JC looking so raw and – well – animal. A tiny spark of primitive womanly fear of being taken’ was quickly replaced by a modern feminine excitement. “Take me,” she commanded huskily. However she was ill prepared for his ready response.
With another growl, JC flipped her over on her stomach. She gave a squeal of surprise at the sudden move. Flattening her beneath him, he roughly tugged the long hair from her body and neck to bury his face between her neck and shoulder. As he had with the front of her torso, he dragged his unshaven jaw over her flesh, though this time he seemed unconcerned about chaffing her delicate skin. Once he reached her buttocks, he made certain each cheek was rosy, marking her as his. Shoving his legs between hers, he knelt on the mattress. Planting his hands on her waist, he hauled her to her knees.
A startled gasp escaped Francesca as she was forced to support herself on her forearms. She’d never experienced a Neanderthal man before. Somewhere she was thinking she needed to protest his aggressive handling. She wasn’t afraid exactly... But if he was going to go caveman on her and she got no benefit he had another thing coming!
“Relax, gypsy,” JC murmured, smoothing a hand over her hip. “It’s no fun for me if it isn’t good for you too.” One hand reached around to find her wet and swollen. “Turned on by this?” he taunted, self-assured. He’d have to remember Francesca didn’t always need ‘civilized’ treatment. Working one finger into her he found her sweet little package.
“JC...”
Abruptly he shoved into slick folds.
This gasp from her was of pleasure.
JC rode her hard and fast, his finger rubbing her, making sure she was getting what she needed as well. “C’mon, mama,” he urged hotly. “Give it to me!”
When the climax came it was fierce and explosive. Francesca cried out his name, shuddering and shaking. JC threw back his head, releasing a sharp, feral shout of claiming. He collapsed on her, crushing her into the sheets.
They lay in a trembling, panting, sweaty heap for a long moment before JC lifted off of her. He drew her close, kissing and stroking her tenderly, easing her recovery.
The first words from her lips were typical Francesca.
“Chasez, I ain’t your mama,” she quipped.
He had to laugh. “Freaky hot monkey sex like that and that’s all you can say?”
Nuzzling his bearded jaw, she smiled. “How about... I like freaky hot monkey sex?”
“Better.”
“I never knew one Joshua Chasez could go caveman.”
“I guess he can given the right circumstances.”
“Interesting... This is the first make up sex I have ever had.”
“Hopefully your last,” he muttered.
“I don’t know... If it’s this good I may decide to pick fights,” she teased.
He was back to being just JC. Tipping her chin up so she could meet his gaze, he let her read the love and caring in his eyes. “Francesca, I’d rather you just say you want some caveman loving. Us fighting... It scares the hell outta me.”
“Be reasonable, darling. We are two independent, intelligent adults with demanding careers. We will disagree.”
”Not like this. Not saying ‘it’s over’ kinda fights,”
“I have an Italian temper,” she reminded him.
“That you generally have control of.”
Okay, so he was living in his dream world of denial for the moment, Francesca thought. She’d just let him for the present. She snuggled close and closed her eyes. “Night, darling.”
“Good night, gypsy.”
With the first traces of dawn, JC unwrapped himself from Francesca’s arms and rose from the bed. Going to the bathroom, he found his shaving kit. He’d seen what his beard had done to Francesca’s soft skin. He supposed on her body the whisker burn wasn’t so bad, but her cheeks and around her lips the marks were unmistakable. It may have felt erotic at the time. In the light of day she would probably change her mind. He wasn’t into abusing his partners. If she required his beard for hot monkey sex, she’d just have to tell him ahead of time, he mused.
Francesca woke marginally when JC rejoined her in bed. Drowsily she noticed he once again sported a smooth face. “You shaved,” she said.
“I shaved.” He drew her into his arms, letting her snuggle close.
“Oh... kay... I’m sleeping in.”
“Cool. I will too.”
With a contented purr Francesca went back to sleep.
Tucking her head beneath his chin, JC followed her back to dreamland.