This was something to which he could become accustomed, JC decided contentedly. He had watched Francesca prepare their dinner of rice and chicken stir-fry. She had urged him to pour a glass of white wine from her surprising collection of spirits. They then stretched out on her wide comfy sofa. With a folded kitchen towel as insulation, they used his stomach as a table. Armed with chopsticks, they shared a plate and glass of wine. Feeding each other made the intimate dinner that much more romantic. Between bites the couple chatted about every day things such as weather and world news — anything that come to mind. Francesca was intelligent, well informed, and well read. JC had to confess she was probably smarter than he was — certainly better educated. That was fine with him. He much preferred a smart woman to one with killer looks and no brains! That sort of female would bore him.
Finally, Francesca laid her chopsticks on the plate, indicating she was finished. With a sigh she put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
“Tired, honey?” JC asked.
“Mmm... not really. Just really relaxed.”
“Yeah, this is good.”
“Like something I could get used to.”
They were of the same mind. “Definitely something I could get used to.” Taking the plate, he stretched out his arm to place it on the coffee table. He tossed the towel after it. Now he was free to hold her. “We can do this, Francesca.”
“We can at least try.”
“Fair enough.”
She opened her eyes to peer at him through thick lashes. “But we do have to discuss sex.”
He grinned, teasing her. “I absolutely want sex to be a part of the deal.”
“Ass,” she grumbled before she answered his grin.
“Before you even ask... I’ll be exclusively your lover. You’ll be my only partner.”
His statement surprised her. How did he know that was on her lists of concerns? “Me, too.”
“What else?”
“To the best of your knowledge, are you clean?”
“I’ve always been good about using condoms. In this day and age, you gotta be careful... So, yeah, as far as I know I’m clean.”
“Are you willing to be tested?” Before he could answer, she said, “I would too, in all fairness.”
“Sure. I’d do it for your peace of mind. I can get it done when I get back to L.A. — unless you want me to get it done here.”
He was being very magnanimous and open. Francesca hadn’t expected it to be so painless. Most males would do a lot of chest thumping. “I know a doctor who would test us both. She is very discreet.”
“Cool. I’m booked this Monday. Other than that my schedule is pretty liquid.” He winked. “Except for the fact I am doing some rearranging of my life for my lady.”
Maybe this whole relationship thing was not a good idea — especially for him. “JC...”
He stopped her. “Francesca, don’t even say it. I’m committed to this — to us. If you knew how terrified I am of needles, you wouldn’t doubt me.”
“You are?”
If he had any qualms about her naïveté when it came to his biography, her surprise at this news would have banished them. It was one JC Chasez factoid everyone seemed to know. “It’s a huge phobia.”
“I’m sorry. There’s the swab method but it isn’t as accurate...”
“Hey, nothing says commitment like needles and blood,” he joked uneasily.
“Are you sure you want to do this? Give up your life—”
“I’m not giving up my life. I can be fairly mobile. You can’t. It isn’t a problem for me right now. I mean I have to finish recording, then there’ll be appearances and touring. If you can deal with these absences, we’ll be cool.”
Could she? To be honest Francesca didn’t truly know. But if he was willing to rearrange his life to accommodate her, shouldn’t she be willing to do so as well?
“Is thinking a good sign or bad?” JC asked at her sudden silence.
“I guess I don’t understand why you are so ready to do all this.”
“Because you are worth it to me. What we could have is worth some effort.”
With a soft sigh of surrender, she nuzzled her face down where his shoulder and neck met. Inhaling his scent was soothing.
His arms went around her to cuddle her close. When it came to her reservations, his actions would have to be the proof she sought. He would have to do the work. Words could only go so far.
“Gypsy, my folks are having a cook out tomorrow, sorta birthday thing for me. Don’t suppose you’d come with me...”
“I’m sorry, JC. I have previous commitments.”
It was in his mind to ask her to break them, but then it was short notice — and he had gotten her to see him again... “Umm... Sunday?”
“Church, then a late lunch with my family.” It was a Carlisle family tradition.
Damn! Did they only have this one night?
“When do you leave,” she asked.
“Sunday evening.”
Francesca was about to protest the brevity of his visit, but then he has the one working to rearrange his life to include her. “Then I guess we’ll have to make tonight really count.”
“It already does. Just being able to be with you for a few hours is like gold, Francesca.”
The moon and the lights of the Chicago night spilled over the bed where the lovers lay. JC had to admit though it was unsettling to feel so exposed; it lent a certain ambience to the night. It was like being suspended out in the open. There was a vastness...
“I love this being one of the last things I see before I fall asleep at night,” Francesca murmured as she gazed out over the city from the comfort of JC’s arms.
“It is an awesome view.”
She sighed happily and snuggled closer. “I am glad you’re back.”
Tightening his arms around her, JC didn’t remind her she had been the one who had sent him away. Instead he nuzzled her hair in a tender communication of agreement. This was where he wanted to be — with Francesca. Thank God he had the means! He would probably be racking up the Frequent Flyer miles, but love was worth it. They were worth it.
The night had been nearly perfect. A quiet, intimate dinner. Honest, open discussion. And when they finally got around to making love... They had taken their time, slow, sweet and easy. It was somehow comforting and affirming to know they had been able to hold back the temptation for the entire evening, that lust did not rule the relationship — though it had been a major factor in their beginning.
“What time do you need to be leaving tomorrow?” Francesca asked drowsily.
“It’s gonna be for a late lunch.”
“Then I’ll have to give you the combination for the elevator and security system as well as the keys. I have to leave by late morning.”
“Maybe I shoulda stayed at a hotel.”
“Nonsense. It would have wasted time. I want you here.” With a contented little yawn, she buried her nose against his neck. “Night, JC.”
“Night, Gypsy.”
‘I want you here.’ Those words made him ridiculously happy. Once Francesca had decided to truly let him into her life, she seemed to hold nothing back.
And she certainly was a cuddler when she slept. He practically wore her. Unlike so many women to moved away once the sex was done, Francesca only moved closer, held tighter — that was so cool with him.
Just as the first traces of dawn appeared on the east horizon, JC was awakened from a dream of Francesca making love to him to the very reality of Francesca making love to him.
“So Sleeping Beauty wakes,” she taunted him as she rolled the condom onto his thick erection.
He gave her a sexy, sleepy smile. “You make love like a dream, Gypsy...”
“I have the feeling it would take a nuclear blast to wake you from a sound sleep.”
Why was she still talking? He wondered groggily as she poised herself over him. Slowly he felt her sink onto his throbbing member. Damn! So tight and hot... It felt so good...
Francesca made a contented sound deep in her throat as she took him all in. Delicious! “I think I need to get one of those kits...” she murmured as she began to move on him.
Kits? “Umm... what kits?”
“Where you can make a mold of your lover’s dick and have a dildo made from it.”
The very thought make him chuckle. “Why? The real thing is at your beckon call.”
She leaned forward, her breasts brushing his chest as she kissed him. “For when you are off somewhere else making your music.”
He couldn’t deny they would spend time apart. And if she preferred to have his replica as a substitute for flesh and blood... “Okay...”
“But right now I have the real deal and it feels like heaven,” she purred.
Yeah, it did. Grasping her hips, he bucked up, thrusting deeper.
“JC!”
It was a glorious sunrise.
Definitely better than a hotel.
JC woke for the second time to the aroma of coffee and cinnamon. Seeking Francesca he found her in the kitchen, drizzling glaze on oven-fresh sweet rolls. It appeared she had risen early to prepare breakfast.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her neck. “If you are trying to impress me, it’s working, babe.”
Tipping her head back, she nuzzled his beard-roughened jaw. “I’m not deliberately trying to impress you, but go ahead and be impressed,” she said with a smile.
“Don’t you know career girls aren’t supposed to be so domestic?”
“Blame Mama. She doesn’t believe in a lot of convenience food. And she’s right. Fresh is better tasting and generally more nutritious.” She could see her feeding this man for years to come. The thought startled her. “How do you like your eggs?”
“What? No Eggs Benedict?” he teased.
“Nope. That’s Sunday brunch fare. Your choice today is the regular kind.”
“Whatever you wanna fix will be great.”
“Okay. You’ll have time for a quick shower—”
“Uh, baby, I don’t do quick showers of a morning.”
“Oh. Then I guess you can grab a cup of coffee while I make you an omelet.”
JC was impressed. Great coffee. Hot, fresh cinnamon rolls. A Denver omelet. Once finished with breakfast, he leaned back in his chair to pat his flat stomach. “I could get fat on your cooking.”
Francesca snorted. “It would take a lot of my cooking.” The man didn’t own an extra ounce of fat.
“So when do you leave?” he asked.
“As soon as I clear away breakfast.” She rose to carry their plates to the sink. “I left keys and the combinations on the desk.”
JC rose to stand beside her. “When will you be back?”
“I don’t know exactly. Just make yourself at home.”
‘Home.’ Yeah, this could be home.