Not This Time

Nina: August 4, 1987

     I bounded up my stairs like a child, but regretted it as soon as I got to the top. I stopped at my door and leaned my head against it as David followed me up the stairs. He had planned to leave the party early in order to spend the night with his girlfriend, so Jon had asked him to make sure I didn't end up in a gutter somewhere. Apparently he didn't think I was capable of making it home on my own.
     "You've got a key, right?" David prompted. He sounded a little amused.
     I nodded slightly, but my head felt like it was spinning. I held a finger up in a 'wait' gesture as the dizziness spun itself out. Once it was gone, I straightened and smiled over at my friend, pulling my key out of my small purse. David didn't follow me into my apartment, he just stopped in the door.
     "All good from here?" he asked.
     "All good!" I cheered, tossing my purse onto the coffee table and throwing my hands up in the air. Just moments before, I'd been dizzy, but for some reason, I still felt like dancing. Like I just had to move.
     David smiled and shook his head at me as I skipped around toward my record player. With a small chuckle, he assured me that Jon would be here soon and then bid me goodnight. I waved enthusiastically at him as he pulled the door closed. He returned a much smaller wave just before the door shut behind him. I could hear his footsteps down the stairs and then the thud of the outside door as well. He was gone.
     Then it was quiet. The only sound was that of an occasional car passing by on the street outside my windows. If I was to dance, there had to be music. I reached into my record box and thumbed through the albums for the one I really wanted: Slippery When Wet. You'd think I'd have had enough of those songs, huh? Nope! I didn't want to listen to anything else. I just couldn't get enough.
     I threw my arms about in grand, dance-like moves to the majestic opening piano solo. Jon called it Pink Flamingos. I remember it took me forever to figure out what he was talking about when he kept writing it in at the top of the setlists. I smiled to myself as the solo transitioned into Let It Rock. I was so used to hearing it transition to Raise Your Hands at shows that the beginning of Let It Rock almost threw me off.
     Almost.
     I danced around my living room, twirling and jumping along with the music. I hadn't spent much time doing that before a wave of nausea rolled through me. Without a second thought, I ran into my bathroom. I sank next to the toilet and tried to puke, but nothing came. It was frustrating. I'd gotten nauseous at the party too. Why was this happening? I didn't get it.
     Once the nausea had passed, I sat up and took a deep breath with a relieved, albeit small, smile. I got up and examined my reflection in my bathroom mirror. The eyeliner I'd been wearing earlier in the night had smudged so much at the party that I'd had to take it off while I was there. Only a thin line of black makeup was left around my eyes, though it was probably just bleed from cheap mascara. Glitter sparkled across my cheeks and forehead, up into my hair.
     I ran my hands through my hair and fanned myself. I didn't remember turning the heater on. I was very warm, but maybe it was just from all the dancing. Even still, though, dancing and moving and jumping were all I really wanted to do. I turned on the faucet and cupped some cold water in my hand. I splashed the puddle across the back of my neck and smiled at the sensation. I could just barely hear the music over the running water. The song was fading out as I reached over and turned the faucet off.
     "Shot through the heart and you're to blame!" Jon's voice sang, "You give love a bad name!" I gasped and ran into my living room as the guitars filled my apartment. I danced over to my phonograph again and turned the volume up. I jumped up on my couch to continue dancing.
     "An angel's smile is what you sell," I sang with Jon, "You promised me Heaven, then put me through Hell." I pretended I was at a concert, performing onstage. "Chains of love got a hold on me. When passion's a prison, you can't break free!" I spun around, holding out one of my hands in front of me in a gun shape as the other held an imaginary microphone to my mouth. "Woah! You're a loaded gun! Yeah." I spun the other way. "Woah! There's nowhere to run! No one can save me, the damage is done!"
     Jon went on to sing the chorus without me as I stopped to catch my breath. I ran my hands through my hair and tugged at my clothes. I could feel every inch of material against my skin. I'd never felt so confined.
     I pulled the crop top over my head and tossed it across the room. As I ran my hands down the front of the red strapless dress I'd brought from my time, my fingers found that trail of buttons that held it together. The song continued without me as I undid the buttons one by one. The dress started to slip once I'd unbuttoned past my hips. I didn't even bother unbuttoning the last three buttons, wiggling out of the material and kicking it off the couch.
     I felt so much freer without that tight dress wrapped around me. I ran my fingers along my skin, over my breastbone and down my stomach to land on my bare hips. There I discovered a surprise. I looked down and realized that I wasn't wearing panties. I wracked my brain, but I could not remember if I'd lost them or if I'd simply never put them on. I couldn't help but giggle at the thought of that. Maybe I had been commando at that party the whole time! Seeing no reason not to, I unclasped my strapless bra and tossed it onto my coffee table, enjoying the freedom.
     So there I was, standing on my couch, no clothes, Bon Jovi blasting, the only light in the room peeking in through my curtains as Jon's voice continued to sing to me. If I closed my eyes, the music was loud enough to trick me into thinking he was there. I dropped down onto my couch and hugged a pillow, listening to him sing. His voice always turned me on, but it was working its magic way more tonight for some reason.
     "Oooooh!" Jon sang against the drums, "Shot through the heart and you're to blame!"
     I writhed against the couch with each glorious note he sang. He always knew what would do it for me. Feeling that urge to move again, I rolled off the couch and danced with the pillow until the song ended.
     That first synth note of Livin' On a Prayer started its long hold and I froze, hugging the pillow again. This was probably my favorite song on the album, and I knew that Jon's singing in it would drive me just as wild as it had in the last song, if not more so. Just anticipating it as the bass joined the synth made me want Jon there with me all the more.
     "Once upon a time, not so long ago," Jon's voice began in a low voice before breaking into the song. "Tommy used to work on the docks."
     "The union's been on strike, he's down on his luck. It's tough," I sang along, "So tough."
     Dropping the pillow, I ran my hands up into my hair again and bit my lip as I turned away from the record player. I was beginning to regret leaving that party early. I just wanted Jon to be here already. I wanted his hands on me. I wanted to kiss him.
     I waltzed into my room and straight into my closet. I knew some of his clothes were stashed there since he stayed with me whenever we were in New York. My eyes automatically found his things when I threw open my closet door. I meant to put on one of his shirts, but instead, I found myself pulling out one of his long coats. I dropped the hanger on the floor and swung the jacket around to rest on my shoulders. I could hear his voice still singing to me from the other room.
     "We've got each other and that's a lot for love," Jon sang. I closed my eyes and pulled the coat around me, taking in a deep breath. I loved the worn leather scent and the faint smell of Jon that lingered in the material. This was as close as I could get to holding him at the moment. It would have to do.
     "We'll give it a shot," I sang breathily, striking a Charlie's Angels pose and firing my make-believe gun. Jon continued into the chorus without me as I dashed back into the main room. I jumped back up on the couch as I'd done before, imaginary microphone and all, and sang along with the song until, oh, that key change.
     The song shifted keys and my knees went weak. I could have passed out, that change was so powerful. I rolled off the couch and danced shamelessly to the remainder of the song as it faded out.
     In the silence, I could hear Jon's key tying to unlock an unlocked door. Jon appeared through the door at the exact moment the trumpets of Social Disease sounded their first note. Jon smirked at me and closed the door, locking it behind him. I watched him smile at my clothes lying all over the room as he made his way toward me. The moans in the song were making my excitement more intense with every step closer he got.
     He stopped in front of me as the woman on the song asked, "You mean that's it?"
     In one swift movement, as the guitar sounded and the man called for 'Dr. Bon Jovi', Jon pulled me forward into a very passionate kiss. It was hilarious that he'd timed it with the music, but all I could do was giggle into the kiss. I didn't want to skip a kiss just to laugh at his silliness. After a moment, Jon held me away and reached over to turn the music down, giving me a once over as he did so. Then he smirked and raised an eyebrow.
     "Is that my coat?" he snickered.
     "It was as close as I could get to you being here with me," I whined, hugging the coat close around me again for a minute.
     Jon smiled a little and wrapped his arms around my waist, under the coat. "How are you enjoying the X?" he asked. He leaned in close like he might kiss me, but then he never closed the space. I knew he was teasing me. And it was working like mad.
     "Is that what it is?" I whispered, letting out an airy laugh as I kept trying to kiss him and he kept leaning away. He was always just out of reach. "That explains so much," I sighed. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. "Like how I can feel your fingertips just barely tracing lines up and down my side," I muttered with a small smile. I got as close as he'd let me and concluded, "It's driving me crazy."
     Jon nodded. "Mmmhm," he snickered, "I'm well aware of how X works."
     "Are you?" I challenged playfully, knowing he'd tell me what he meant. It really didn't matter to me how he knew. I just wanted to get to the part where he'd let me kiss him again.
     As expected, Jon nodded again. "Took it once in high school," he explained. With a chuckle, he added, "Learned my lesson pretty damn quick. It's a great high.." He paused and grinned at me as I ran the tip of my finger along his jawline. "...and a really shit hangover," he went on, "You're gonna feel absolutely horrible tomorrow morning." 
     I dropped my finger and pouted a little at him. I didn't want to feel absolutely horrible. I didn't want to even think about feeling absolutely horrible. I wanted to dance and kiss him and touch him all over.
     Jon smirked and leaned in toward me a little. "So we've gotta make you feel really, really, really good tonight," he mumbled, reaching up to twist a strand of my hair around his finger. When I met his gaze, there was obvious mischief in his blue eyes. I smirked too.
     "Oh?" I giggled knowingly, "How are we gonna do that?"
     "I've got some ideas," Jon whispered, a playful grin spreading across his face.
     This time he let me kiss him. That one hand that was still on my waist, under the coat, pulled me toward him. His other hand slipped a little lower and rubbed between my legs. At the same time, he started walking me backwards. All, of course, while trying not to break the kiss.
     He was trying to do so much at once that I didn't even know what to focus on. What his hands were doing? What his tongue was doing? Walking? Wait, was I supposed to be breathing too? Because it really felt like I couldn't, there were so many things for my drug-induced brain to process.
     Our stumbling across my living room landed me with my back against the wall between my two front windows and Jon pinning me there. Not that I minded, of course. He was the only person I could feel comfortable enough to be in that position with.
     He pulled away and immediately started kissing my neck. I tilted my head back so he had better access, but he just kept planting little kisses over my shoulder and across my breastbone, between my boobs and down over my stomach. I knew exactly where he was going and just the anticipation of it that built with each kiss was more than enough to drive me wild. Everything was exciting tonight. Every little touch.
     "Screw that," I grumbled, getting on my knees too so that I could kiss him again. I could tell he was trying not to laugh at me as he kissed back. I could feel him grinning. Just like I could feel everything else he was doing. One of his hands was up behind my neck, under my hair, holding me to him as he slipped his tongue into my mouth. His other hand was exploring.
     He dragged his fingertips over my skin faintly, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Everywhere his skin touched mine burned hot with anticipation..or maybe it was desire. Who knew? All I knew was that it was exhilarating and I wanted more.
     Jon pulled his hands away for only a moment so that he could take off his shirt. I always loved watching him do that, so it wasn't a total disappointment that his hands weren't still on me. I took the opportunity to get comfortable on the floor, laying down and propping myself up on one elbow. As soon as his shirt was over his head, he looked down at me and smirked.
     "Don't forget your pants," I reminded him with a nod toward his waist. He was already in the process of reaching backward to yank off his boots when I said this, but when he straightened again, he put his hands on his hips and looked down at his jeans.
     "You do it," he prompted in a low voice after a moment. I glanced up at his face from where I'd been staring at his belt buckle. He was serious. "I love it when you take my clothes off," he confided, "I really wish I'd gotten to take something off of you.."
     With a slightly touched, but mostly horny smile, I sat back up and grabbed the waist of his jeans, pulling him a little closer so that I could undo his belt. Jon grinned too as he watched me push the belt buckle aside, unbutton the top button, and then unzip his fly. He helped me get his jeans over that ridiculously perfect ass of his and then he dropped back on said ass and kicked out of his pants, leaving just his boxers.
     I crawled over him and started making out again, barely even giving him a chance to sit up. He didn't even fight it; he just leaned back and let me kiss him. I reached into his boxers and wrapped my hand around his cock. He made a soft sound, but it really didn't sound like an objection to me. Especially not when I moved my hand and he made the sound again, but louder.
     "Fuck, Nina," he groaned gently. He sat back up and licked his lips, his eyes scanning over me in his coat. Then he pulled my hand out of his boxers and pulled me closer to him. I found myself on my knees over his waist, him gazing up at me. He looked away for a second so he could remove his boxers too. Then he kissed what was directly in front of him: the tender skin above my belly button. He whispered against it, "I wanna fuck you."
     I could just hear Jon and Richie's vocals on the end of Wanted Dead or Alive. "And I ride! And I ride dead or alive. I still drive! I still drive..."
     I smirked as Jon's vocals continued closing out the song. He, himself, didn't even seem to notice the music, but that song put a line in my head that I knew he'd enjoy. My hands on his shoulders, and one of his on my waist, I let my knees slip outward so that I'd sink a little. I knew Jon was holding himself in place, ready to go.
     "Y'know what they say," I breathed, leaning in close. I could feel his tip just barely touching but not going in yet. I smirked and whispered seductively in his ear, "Save a horse. Ride a cowboy."
     He let out another moan, bringing his hips up to meet me as I sank onto him. His eyes closed and he licked his lips again as I ran my fingers through his chest hair. One of his hands found its way to my ass and squeezed as I worked up and down on him. His other hand caressed the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. There was that fire again.
     Leaning back on one hand, he brought his other up to play with my boobs again, grinning like a silly child watching them, catching one or the other over and over again in his hand whenever I came down on him. I didn't mind, though. His hands were intoxicating. It didn't matter where he touched as long as he did.
     He laid down and slid both his hands down my sides to take hold of my hips as he moved with me. As I came down, he was already on his way up. I had to lean forward a little to brace myself on his shoulders as he manually helped me move on him. His grip was tight, but it was so hot, it only added to the excitement.
     I sat back up and grinned at the look on his face as I swivelled my hips. "Yee-hah!" I laughed, throwing one hand in the air like I was at the rodeo. I knew he had a thing for cowgirls, even if I didn't get it.
     He moaned his approval and pushed faster into me. I leaned forward to kiss him as best I could in that position. He bit my lip, bringing one hand up behind my head to hold me close to him so he could slip his tongue into my mouth again.
     It was extremely difficult to focus on kissing him when he was fucking me like that. I pushed away from him with one last peck and he rewarded me with an incredibly sexy smolder as I sat up. My breath hitched at that. He knew what he was doing to me. He always knew what to do.
     He held my hips tight and pulled almost all the way out of me, not even giving me a second to breathe before he plunged right back in. I cried out, whether in surprise or pleasure, I still don't know. He groaned again too and, God, it was sexy.
     "Jon," I just barely moaned. I couldn't catch my breath. We both knew I was close. I leaned toward him slightly, bracing myself on his shoulder as I had before. One of my hands held me up and the other ran through my slightly damp hair.
     He thrust harder. The sounds he was making, those husky teasers he sometimes used for recordings, were turning me on all the more. I whined a little and pulled him up, forcing him to put a hand behind him to hold himself up, so that I could suck on that sensitive spot at the nape of his neck.
     "God, Nina," he groaned into my hair. His rhythm sped up just slightly. I moaned against his skin as I shook with climax. He wasn't far behind me, letting out a relieved moan as he came inside me.
     I leaned my head on his shoulder, but didn't move otherwise. He dropped his other hand behind him and leaned on that one as well, but didn't make any attempt to move me, which I appreciated. We were both more or less still for a moment, catching our breaths.
     When I finally sat up, Jon laid back down on the carpet and closed his eyes. He took one big, deep breath and grinned. I crossed my arms and leaned forward, resting my arms on his chest and my head on my arms. He opened his eyes and met my gaze with another deep breath.
     "That was great," he sighed, still breathing a little heavy.
     I smiled a little and said, "I know." He closed his eyes again. I bit my lip as his chest lifted me up and then let me down over and over. I giggled and then added, "Seeing you breathless like this just makes me want to fuck you all over again."
     Eyes still closed, Jon grinned again. He chuckled and held up a finger to mean 'wait.' Then he said, "Okay. Just give me a second."