Say Hello, Wave Goodbye

Chapter 11

I had to admit I was disappointed to have missed seeing all the backstage goings-on, but I didn't want to be the reason John let everyone down. That evening, I watched the entire show utterly transfixed, both by the music and John himself - they worked amazingly well together. If only they knew just how successful they were going to be. In only a few year's time, they'd be touring America, and it wasn't hard to see why.

As for John himself, whenever I watched him, I drooled into my drink. The skill... and the way he handled the instrument... I wanted him again.

"And this is our final song, Planet Earth," Simon announced to the audience, still energetic after a whole set, who seemed just as hyped up as him, "it's our first real single!"

The surge of energy amongst the audience was unreal - they cheered and whooped and clamoured, and looked like they could dance all night. I couldn't help but feel it too. Who wouldn't? Throughout the entire song, I completely forgot where I even was, until they were forced by the audience to play it again as an encore, where I experienced it all afresh.

When the five of them eventually stumbled offstage, dazed and high on adrenaline, the excitement did not stop. Nobody was going to sit down calmly. Instead, they ditched their instruments in a remodelled storage room and went to become part of the crowd they'd just been playing to. Their managers hadn't warmed up to me much more, but the actual band members were constantly asking me questions or including me in their rounds of drinks, and I loved them for it - though it did make me miss Poppy back home. For a second, I completely zoned out. Was she missing me at all? Or would I return to the exact same moment that I left? The only place I might find an answer to that was the book, which was presently in the flat. If only I could find it...

"HEY! Poppy!" Andy called, which dragged me out of my thoughts, "we're having another round, you want some?"

"Sure, Andy, I-"

John chose that exact moment to lean in and kiss the patch of skin exposed by my shirt collar, which rendered me completely speechless and had me shivering a little. Andy gave him an exasperated sigh.

"Do you have to do that here, John?" He complained, "the rest of us are watching."

"What's it to you, Andy?"

"It's just annoying, innit? It's always you who gets the fit girls."

At that, John grinned smugly, and I couldn't help but feel a little pleased at his compliment, too, despite the very crude delivery. Though I wasn't going to show it.

"So you're jealous, Andy? Makes sense." He laughed.

Andy just rolled his eyes in mock-frustration and flounced off. Hopefully he'd find someone to help him let off steam, so he stopped pestering us. Thankfully, though, Andy had been the last of band hanging around us, since the rest of them were preoccupied either with their own girlfriends, or finding somebody to bring home that night instead. It was so nice to be alone again, finally.

John leaned in for what I thought was another kiss, but instead he spoke against my ear,

"The others aren't gonna be back at the flat for a while... what do you say we head back a little early?"

He pulled away with such a suggestive look on his face that I wouldn't have been able to resist.

"I was wondering when you were even going to ask. Of course..." I replied.

We slipped away discreetly from the club, out of the back door, and almost fell through the unlocked flat door, too occupied by each other's mouths to notice. Even with a few drinks in him, John knew exactly what he was doing - I figured he'd already had a lot of practice - and his hands were in all the right places. Blindly, we backed up until I hit something, and he had me pinned to the wall. His kisses, which had already started out needy, had become even more demanding and breathy, and I returned them with equal force.

Quickly, he'd unzipped the skirt and unbuttoned the back of the top - they both fell in a pool at our feet, and were quickly joined by John's shirt and trousers, too. Now we were finally alone, neither of us tried to keep quiet as his mouth took over from his hands; they went into my hair, and his lips went everywhere else. It felt amazing. With increasing desperation, he unclasped the back of my bra and discarded that too.

"You really are beautiful, I hope you know that," John broke away for a few seconds, staring me square in the eyes like he meant it. My stomach was doing somersaults, but adoration rose in my chest. I was starting to believe Roger more and more - maybe John really did like me?

"Thank you," I blushed, "and I could say the same and more about you,"

A smile flashed quickly across his face, but he suddenly remembered the task at hand, and dipped down into a fresh kiss. While he kissed me gently, I helped him out of the last of his clothes, too. As quickly as possible. The air between us was uncomfortably hot, but our bodies quickly closed that gap, searching for each other.

John's demeanour changed suddenly. Both of us had reached the breaking point. I felt his hands slip under my legs, lifting me up and pressing my back into the wall so hard that it hurt. Beneath me, his legs shifted to a more convenient position.

"Oh god, John!" I was surprised they couldn't hear me in the Rum Runner.

"I haven't even started yet, luv."

"I know, but it's just you. And get to it-"

The hard thrust as he entered me completely stopped my sentence in its tracks. I gasped loudly and so did he, ecstatic to be joined like this again. It was beyond words. The thrusts gradually got deeper and deeper, harder and harder, better and better, and our screams grew accordingly. It must've sounded like somebody was dying up here.

I was.

Very soon, I found myself getting closer, and my grip on John's shoulders leaving thick, red marks. But we didn't care. He could show them off later, and my thoughts were entirely fixed on his hand that had travelled between my legs, adding more depth to the pleasure.

Only mere seconds now.

His legs started to tremble beneath mine. His teasing remarks had completely stopped. His eyes were shut tight, fighting the wave about to come crashing down on him for another few seconds. Everything about it was so indescribably hot.

The tension that had been building up in me reached its peak. Spasms, weak at first, shook me, but they got stronger and stronger until I couldn't take it anymore, and I cried out loudly, digging my fingernails hard into John's skin. Hard. But I was so far removed from reality that I barely noticed him letting himself go and giving in, too. Together, we tipped entirely over the edge. It carried on and on, until finally we came down from our high, back to reality, and slid down the wall together. He slipped out.

We ended up in a sweaty, shivering, exhausted puddle on the floor. His breathing was harsh and so was mine. Kisses might've been exchanged, or that might've been my imagination. My mind was completely blank. The only thing that mattered now was my head against his damp chest and the feel of his hands in my hair.

We stayed like that for a good long while, resting. Recovering. The quiet of the flat was peaceful, and it matched how calm I felt now. This was bliss.

Then, out of nowhere, John sat bolt upright. What the hell? That was a very forward way to say he'd had enough.

"What are you doing?" I pressed, irritably.

"Be quiet a second, Poppy, I think everybody is coming back."

Reluctantly, I stayed quiet, and listened to the voices of the band and the girls with them, growing gradually louder. He'd been right.

I whispered loudly, "Well, let's get to your room quickly, then!" and John nodded in silent agreement.

Still wearing absolutely nothing, we leapt up. Both of us scrambled about for our discarded clothes on the front room floor then made a break for it across the hallway. The voices were getting closer. I heard a hand on the door handle the second we crossed the threshold of John's room and slammed the door behind us. Thank fuck. In the pitch-black silence, we sat stock-still, panting with exhaustion; some of that lingered from what we'd done before we made our mad dash, too.

We'd made it. And we'd had a bloody good time doing it.