Not This Time

Nina: March 5, 1987

     "Jon," I breathed, tugging at my own hair lightly. The way he used his tongue was sensational, and it felt amazing, especially at first, but he'd already been down there a few minutes and it was going nowhere fast. It was no use. I was fairly confident that I wasn't going to get off with everything still on my mind. "Jon, you should stop," I suggested.
     Jon lifted his head and frowned a little. "What, no good?"
     "It feels great," I moaned lightly, shaking my head, "But it's not gonna get me there."
     Jon scoffed and sat up. He wasn't the only one who was frustrated. My hormones were all over the place after the sex, but I just couldn't seem to relax. I still hadn't figured out what to do about next month. Jon crawled over me and frowned a little, in a concerned way.
     "Tell me what you want," he commanded gently, looking me dead in the eye. Twisting my own hair around my finger, I smirked back at him. What did I want? I wanted the same thing I'd always wanted. I wanted him. I wanted to be with him for the rest of my life. I wanted to know that he'd be happy with me, but there were still so many uncertainties.
     Right then, though, all I wanted to kiss him. I loved kissing him, even if it was just a little peck. His face that close to mine still made the butterflies in my stomach go mad with excitement.
     I smiled. "I'm really interested in how you do that thing with your tongue," I muttered in the best sexy voice I could manage. Jon smirked down at me.
     "Oh," he replied with a slight snicker, "you mean this?" He leaned down and kissed me, not hesitating even a second before slipping his tongue into my mouth. I let out a soft sound as he kissed me. He'd always been an amazing kisser. I never knew if it was because of his vocal warm-ups or if he'd just had a lot of practice. Maybe it was a little of both. Either way, I was caught up in it. So much so that I didn't notice his hand trailing down across my stomach.
     I could feel Jon smile at the sound I made when he slid a couple fingers into me. He pulled away for just a minute and shushed me jokingly. I smiled a little at his teasing, but the thought was gone again in an instant. I was too consumed with his hand between my legs. My eyes were closed, but I could tell he was watching my expressions change.
     With his free hand, Jon reached underneath me and pinched open my bra clasp. He pulled my bra down, freeing my boobs but leaving me to get my arms out of the straps. Just as soon as I'd tossed the bra off the bed, Jon's lips were on one of my boobs. He sucked on one and massaged the other. All the while, I could feel him swirling his fingers around inside me.
     He kissed up my chest, up my neck, to that tender spot below my ear. I let out a quiet whimper. My arms wrapped around him, one hand making a fist in his hair. Occasionally his name would slip out on my breath.
     "You're making me hard again," he murmured against my ear. I giggled weakly because his breath tickled, but just the thought of his arousal again made my excitement worse. I loved knowing that I turned him on; it turned me on. He trailed kisses down my neck again as I tilted my head back in pleasure.
     "Fuck me," I ordered faintly.
     Jon sat up a bit and smirked at me. I bit my lip and closed my eyes again when he pulled his fingers out of me. I didn't have to look down to know that he was getting himself positioned. I was still fighting to keep my mind off of everything that was waiting for me sometime next month.
     "It's your turn this time," Jon told me as he pushed in gently.
     That word, though, yanked all those thoughts right into the front of my mind and knocked me out of the moment. Time. It wasn't my time, our time. It was only a matter of time before she came back to him. Only a matter of time until Matt came to take me back to my time. Only a matter of time until I never got to see Jon again. I grumbled in frustration and stared at the ceiling, trying and failing to push all of those thoughts back again.
     Jon leaned into my view and frowned at me. "Hey," he said, "Whatever you're thinking about, stop it." He sounded serious.
     I sighed and dropped my eyes, but Jon followed my gaze. I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want to think about it. I turned my head, but he followed still. Wherever I looked, he was there a second after.
     "Look at me," he insisted, "Just me." I blinked up at him with another tired sigh but smiled a little when he stuck his tongue out at me. He grinned too, bringing a hand to the side of my face. "Just me," he repeated gently, leaning in a little, "Now listen here." He leaned down next to me like he'd kiss that soft spot again, but instead, he groaned softly right in my ear.
     There it was. That mushy feeling I'd get in my stomach whenever his vocals for a song were all rough and gravelly. He knew what turned me on. Sure, they were the same moans he did in the studio for records, but they still worked. As his voice did things to me, Jon started to move.
     "Slow," I breathed as he pushed back in. He kissed that sensitive spot below my ear in response and did as told. He continued making sounds quietly in my ear, but slowly they became more real.
     After a minute or two of his slow progression, he groaned, "God, Nina." It was purely impatience and frustration, but to my sex-flooded brain, it all sounded the same: hot. I slipped a hand up into his hair and let the other one slide over his back, hugging him as close as I could get him without hindering his movement.
     I couldn't figure out what sensation to focus on. The tip of his tongue was tracing circles around the edges of that sensitive spot below my ear. The hand that wasn't supporting him was squeezing and playing with one of my boobs. I don't think it was intentional, but his rhythm slowly increased, too, as precious minutes passed. Didn't matter, though. It all felt amazing, overwhelming, exhilarating.
     "Jon," I breathed, trying to control my excited breathing.
     "Is this better?" Jon taunted; he knew it was. I could hear it in his voice that he knew.
     I nodded anyway. "I'm close," I whispered. Jon suddenly sucked hard on that sensitive spot, causing me to gasp in surprise and pleasure. "God, Jon," I whined quietly.
     Jon pushed a little faster, making those gruff sounds in my ear again as he did so. He tangled his hand in my hair. My skin prickled with excitement everywhere his lips touched. Like magic. The pace of my breathing rivaled that of his hips. For the first time in weeks, I recognized that climactic build up and it was intense.
     Jon buried his face in the crook of my neck to muffle his moan as he found release. I loved that feeling. The rush of warmth from his orgasm was the final push. Trying to keep quiet, the only sound I let out was as broken whimper and then a great big sigh as all the tension in my body topped off and spilled over. Relief washed over me.
     Propping himself up on his elbows, Jon smirked at me through his heavy breathing. He looked proud of himself. I stifled a laugh at his expression as I too tried to catch my breath. I let out another soft moan when he pulled out of me. It was a weird feeling, but in an odd way, I liked it. Jon rolled over onto the bed beside me and neither of us spoke for a good minute.
     It was Jon who broke the silence. "Alright," he sighed, shifting to lay on his side so he could face me, "Talk to me."
     I looked over at him innocently. I knew what he was talking about, I just didn't really want to discuss it. I didn't even want to think about it. In the two months that had already passed since I'd found out about Dorothea's return, I'd made a decision and then doubted it. Ever since our anniversary, I'd been up in the air. I knew what I wanted, but I also knew what was supposed to happen. It was driving me crazy. Now he was asking and I couldn't tell him. So, instead, I pretended not to know what he meant.
     Jon grinned. "Genuinely not trying to brag here," he snickered, "genuinely. But I've never had to work that hard to get you off." He raised an eyebrow questioningly.
     At first I just stared, but then I had to stifle a laugh. No matter how many times he said 'genuinely', his words still sounded like bragging. I couldn't stop the grin creeping across my face as I tried not to laugh.
     "There she is!" Jon declared quietly, reaching over me to put a hand on my waist and pull me closer to him, "That's what I like to see!" He reached up and traced my jaw as he muttered, "There's nothing I wouldn't do for that smile."
     For a minute, I contemplated all the really terrible things I could have asked if he'd do, even though I knew he wouldn't. Then the thought dawned on me: a solution to my indecision about what to do next month. I could just ask him what to do. I was surprised I hadn't thought of it sooner. Maybe it was because I was too afraid of how he'd react to even entertain the idea. For whatever reason, though, the idea hadn't come to me until that most opportune moment.
     "Would you answer a question?" I challenged. Jon gave me a confused look and then an amused smile.
     "I can do that."
     "Even if it seems incredibly ridiculous and pointless?" I persisted.
     Jon tilted his head with that same amused smile. "Is that the question?" he joked. I frowned at him, but that only made his grin grow. He shrugged once, nodding a little, and said, "Fire away."
     Oh God, this was it. How was I supposed to do this without telling him his future? I couldn't let him know Dorothea was gonna come see him; then he'd want to know how I knew, and that wasn't something I could explain without sounding completely mad. Hell, none of it was something I could explain without sounding completely mad. That's what made finding the right way to word the question so difficult. Still, after a minute, I'd figured it out.
     "Okay, close your eyes," I instructed. Jon sat up and leaned back on the headboard, but he did as told. I turned on my side and propped myself up on my elbow, watching him as I went on. "Alright, imagine the person you love most in the entire world. The person you'd do anything for." Jon opened his mouth to say something, but I beat him to the punch. "Don't tell me who it is, that's not important," I said, "Just picture them."
     Jon smirked and nodded, but kept his eyes closed. "Okay, I see her."
     Her. How vague.
     I bit my lip. This was where it got interesting. "Now," I sighed, "Pretend that you can see her future. It looks like life couldn't be better for her. It's the happiest thing that you could have ever imagined her future to be." The dramatic effect of my pause wasn't intended, but it was there all the same before I added, "But you're not a part of it."
     Jon's smile disappeared and his eyes snapped open as he turned to me with a start. He gaped for a minute and then shook his head in disbelief, his forehead creased with confusion. He looked almost betrayed.
     "What kind of question is this?" he spat, "What do you mean I'm not a part of it?"
     I held up my hand. "Let me finish and it will make sense," I retorted, "Close your eyes." Jon kept his glare on me out of the corner of his eye as he faced forward again. After a second, he sighed and begrudgingly closed his eyes again.
     "Okay. So there's the woman I love," he mumbled, "And her really happy future without me. What next?"
     "So you find out that the only way for her to get that amazing, happy future you saw," I explained, "is for you to walk out of her life and stay out of it for the next.." I hesitated for a fraction of a second to make a very bare estimation. "Thirty years," I finished.
     "Thirty years?" Jon scoffed, looking over at me again in surprise. I glared at him, but he just shook his head and crossed his arms as he faced forward once more. "Let me get this straight," he argued, leaning his head back against the headboard, eyes closed in concentration, "The woman I love more than anything in the world is guaranteed that happy future I saw for her, but only if I leave her?"
     "And don't try to contact her for-"
     "Thirty years, right.." he grumbled.
     There was a brief silence and then I asked, "What do you do?"
     Jon opened his eyes and looked at me. His arms were still crossed, but he didn't look mad. He had that curious look he got when he didn't understand something. He stared for a second. Then he blinked and looked down at the comforter. He was actually thinking about it. Oh my God, he was actually going to answer the question!
     "What happens if I decide not to leave her?" he asked, not even looking up from the comforter. I shrugged, letting my gaze fall as well. I hated thinking about what might happen if I decided to stay. There was no telling.
     I shook my head a little. "She doesn't get the future that you saw," I assured him, "It might be okay, but it might also be way worse."
     "Or it might be better, right?" I looked back up to find him gazing over at me expectantly. "Better than I could imagine?"
     The hope in his voice was the purest thing in the world. Of course Jon-The-Optimist would assume that there's a better option. I'd only dared to let myself think that once, but I wasn't as positivity-based as Jon; I was confined to my imagination. With a soft smile, I nodded.
     "I guess that's a possibility, yeah," I agreed quietly.
     Jon nodded and looked away again. After a minute of weighing his options, he kicked the covers back so that he could get underneath them. Putting his hands behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling for a moment or two more before shaking his head with an awkward shrug and looking over at me.
     "I'd ask her," he answered, "Her future shouldn't be my decision. If she wanted me to stay and risk the happiest future I could imagine for her, then I'd stay. If she was too scared to bet on something better, I'd go. It would probably kill me, but I'd do it."
     I stared at him. He'd worked out in five minutes what had taken me two months to come up with. Showed how clever I was. He was saying he'd do exactly what I was doing at that moment. I was just about to come out and ask the actual question when Jon spoke again.
     "What would you want me to do?" he asked.
     I just blinked in surprise. He looked dead serious, though. He turned on his side under the covers and mirrored me, both of us propped up on an elbow with our heads resting in our hands. I couldn't believe he'd just asked me that. As much as he knew I loved him, it surprised me that he would think he didn't know the answer.
     Then it occurred to me that he might have been thinking the same thing about me. How could I not know the answer, knowing how much he loved me? He didn't have a high school sweetheart to compete with, though. He wasn't the one who was lucky to have me; he could have practically anybody. I was outrageously lucky to have him. We weren't in the same boat.
     "I'd want you to stay," I said, "I can't imagine anything that would be better than you."
     "Same here," he muttered, reaching over to caress my cheek affectionately. "I don't believe in predetermined fate, Nina," he added, "We get to make our own future, you and me. I told you we're gonna grow up together."
     I smiled at the words, remembering that conversation from our anniversary celebration.
     Jon smiled too. "There she is," he whispered admiringly. His eyes fell from mine, but his smile brightened as he tilted my head to the side. "You've got makeup right?" he chuckled.
     "Yeah, why?"
     With a pleased grin, Jon ran his thumb over the spot below my ear. "That's gonna be really red tomorrow," he snickered. I reached up too, my fingertips landing on his thumb that was still there. He pressed gently and I gasped.
     "What have you done?" I accused playful with a gently smack to the chest. He grinned and rolled away from me, bringing his arms up to cover his head as I tackled him from behind and pretended to beat him up, both of us giggling like children.
     I loved that about Jon. One minute he was serious, and the next he could be joking or flirting. He was sweet and handsome and not a total dick about it. He loved me. He was everything I'd ever wanted, and he wanted me. We were happy. Next month didn't seem very intimidating anymore as Jon wrapped his arms around me with an adorably unattractive yawn. There was nothing to stress about anymore. No rules. No more time travel. No more debate. It was settled. I wasn't going anywhere.