Heading In The Right Direction

Chapter Six

Author's Notes:

Surprise! I/We made it!

My apologies for the delay and my thanks for having patience for waiting so long.

I think the anxieties (Jovi/work/home related) are finally starting to ease, and coordinating with E, who has a different set of time/work/life issues yet again, always proves to be interesting.

There was a moment that I'd even thought about abandoning this fic due to lack of vision/inspiration, which I would never normally do. However, I am contemplating taking a break from it for a short while to take advantage of all the new information coming out of the docu-series, new interviews and music. A continuation of When We Were Us anyone?

Anyway, enjoy this chapter...it ended up in a totally different headspace than I expected too.J💕💕💕

Chapter 06

Jon POV

Her kisses were everything he'd hoped for, and more.

When the lights had cut out, and whilst Jimmy was occupied across the room and not watching him like a hawk, Jon slipped, with the surety of instinct, backstage to find his Honey Breeze Whiskey Summer.

Jon had intended to do nothing more than pay her a compliment or two, exchange a conversation about her obvious musical influences and maybe, just maybe, arrange to meet up again soon.

However, once he was outside the dressing room door, hearing the repetitive and angry-sounding tap tap tap of high heels, something had changed. He also hadn't expected the knob to turn in his hand, but it had, revealing Emmi hunched over the counter, tapping her toes anxiously.

He leaned against the frame, silently waiting, watching, taking full advantage of the view of her lusciousness, until Emmi's head lifted, sensing him there. She straightened and turned around, and Jon felt impelled to move closer, closing the door behind him. Her eyes flickered nervously between him and the door at the tiny snick of the lock.

Nothing had been said by either of them, as yet, but Jon caught every subtle change in her body language, the sudden heaviness in her breathing, the movement of her throat as she swallowed, the way her eyes changed colour suddenly and how her nipples hardened against the fabric of her dress, as though he was reading a book.

"Y-you shouldn't be back here," she said. "H-how-?"

She's nervous but not quite afraid , he thought, noticing again the pink of her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Jon had to bite his tongue to prevent a groan from escaping. He didn't, however, curb the enthusiasm of his cock, which had eagerly started to fill and thicken, further than it had whilst watching her from the bar.

"I waited until your father was occupied," Jon said, cutting her off before she could protest. His feet moved of their own volition until he was standing directly in front of her. The air was charged with electricity and he was half expecting to see tiny sparks in the space that separated them.

"You're good," he said, his eyes never breaking contact with her hazel/topaz ones. "Real good."

His heart was pounding in his chest and his world felt a little off-kilter, as though he was dreaming, but the compulsion was undeniable; he had to touch her to confirm that she was real and not the amalgam of the women that he'd concocted in his alcohol-fuddled brain in the past couple of weeks. His hand came up from his side to tuck a loose strand of Emmi's hair behind her ear.

That small touch of her hair and the feel of soft skin beneath his fingertips were the catalyst for his surrender. Jon wanted her!

"No, I-."