“Missed you.” He murmured into her messy hair.
“Missed you more.” She whispered back, pressing a gentle kiss upon his chest.
“If you promise to welcome me like that every time, I’d....”
“Oh, stop it.” she nudged him with her leg that was resting on his thigh.
“Watch it,” he cupped himself for protection “you’ll be needing that.”
“Not for another,” she lifted her head over his chest and looked at the generic clock sitting on the nightstand. “Seventeen hours and twenty-three minutes, give or take a few seconds. But who's counting.”
“I'm kinda liking pregnant, Ari, not sure I can keep up with her though.”
“Puhleaze... if you can jump around stage with a hard-on for two-and-a-half hours every other night, you can survive nine months with me being pregnant.”
Ariana let out a breath of laughter as Jon flipped them. “Ah, but can you survive me?” He pressed his forehead against her and looked deep into her eyes.
“Show me what you got.” She whispered in a cocky tone.
Her eyes fluttered closed as Jon brushed his lips against hers, then brushed his mouth lightly across her cheek, causing his nose to bump against her cheekbone. Ariana gave a soft sigh as his mouth trailed up to her ear, kissing that spot right below it lightly before nipping at it affectionately.
“Jon,” she breathed.
Jon moved further down, trailing his tongue down her neck and then blowing lightly on the damp skin. He could feel her goosebumps as she shivered. When he looked up at her, her eyes were dark green with a glaze of want.
“Jon,” she breathed again.
Capturing his mouth with hers, Ari gave a little whimper. Drawing out his tongue, he broke the kiss.
“I’m starving, let's eat.” he scooted off of her and onto the floor.
“What!” she shot up on her elbows.
“You heard me.” He said as he walked towards the bathroom.
“ARGH!”
Scampering off the bed, Ariana stomped across the room to her overnight bag. Pulling out a pair of faded blue jeans and sweater and tossing them on the couch, she tugged her shirt over her head and replaced it with the sweater.
“I can’t believe you,” she growled, shoving one leg in the jeans. The cool denim against her heated skin sent a shiver down her spine. “Of all the miserable things you could do.” she placed her other leg in its spot. Hopping up and down, she fought with the garment as she tugged the material over her bare ass, “fuck....” she huffed realizing she was still wearing that stupid thong. In no mood to take it off, she zipped, or at least she tried to zip her up jeans. “No way, uh-huh, you fit me yesterday, you are not doing this to me.” she tucked her chin against her chest as she talked to her jeans as if they understood her. “C’mon already...” one last tug did the trick.
“You say something.” Jon appeared at the doorway that connected the rooms with a mouthful of toothpaste and his toothbrush in his hand.
“Don’t... You... Even...” she snarled at him.
Jon held his palms up and shrugged his shoulder and smiled before returning to the bathroom to finish brushing. When he returned, Ari was standing at the door with one hand on the doorknob.
“Are you ready?”
Not bothering to wait for an answer, she flung open the door and walked out. Jon snatched his shirt and coat up, pulling it over his head as he chased after her, “Crash, wait.”
When he reached the elevator bank, she was standing with her arms firmly folded across her chest, leaning against the wall. Jon stepped in front of her, but she looked down, trying to hide her grin. Bending his knees so he could see her face, he titled his head to the side.
“Crash, look at me.”
Jon could tell she was trying not to laugh, so he knew she wasn’t mad. He moved a little closer, pushing her chin up with his knuckle. As he did, her eyes fluttered, and a huge grin spread across her face.
“That! was cruel.”
“Now you know how I feel.” He nudged even closer, his semi-hard erection pressed against her thigh. “I’ll make it up to you”, he crossed his heart with his crooked little pinky, then kissed it and held it out to her, promise.
Ariana repeated the same motion, and when she kissed hers, she linked their pinkies together. “I will hold you to that promise.”
The elevator dinged, and hand in hand they stepped forward, joining the other occupants.
♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱ ♱
It was a beautiful night for a stroll as they walked to one of her favorite places to eat in Old Montreal, Gibby’s. Their food, some of the finest and freshest seafood, along with expertly aged steaks, was not only superb, but it was also the invitingness of its warm atmosphere she loved so much.
This renowned world-class restaurant was in a two-hundred-year-old building, and featured cozy fireplaces and romantic lighting, but it was the historic stone walls, and the original beamed ceilings that made your experience one not to be forgotten.
The restaurant was busy and there had to be fifteen, twenty people waiting to be seated when out of nowhere the maitre d’ appeared and embraced Ariana. They spoke in French for a few minutes before he escorted them to their table.
After the waiter left with their drink and appetizer order, Jon reached across the table for her hands. “I have some good news.”
“I’m listening.”
“Dorothea signed the divorce papers.”
Ariana felt a slight twinge in her chest. “That’s good, now what?”
“They go back to my lawyer for one last review. She added an addendum too, for the houses. Once that change has been made and I sign them, we can file them.” Jon absent mindedly massaged her fingers, one finger in particular.
“Wait, I’m confused. What about the houses?”
“Remember, I told you she didn’t want the one in Red Bank, well, now she wants to list the penthouse as a temporary resident, till she can figure out what she wants to do.” He released one hand so he could take a sip of his wine. “I’m not concerned with that at the moment, I’m just happy she signed at all.”
“And after you’ve signed?”
“We wait.”
She saw the pensiveness in his eyes, “Hey, it’s a step in the right direction.”
“Yes, but you know me, Mr. Patience.” He grunted out a laugh. “Now tell me what’s going on with Petit?”
Throughout dinner they talked about the renovations of the kitchen and possibly the bar. She explained the designs Luc had for the kitchen and that she had told him to go ahead with the new appliances and not bother with the old ones at all. He asked what she planned on doing with the bar area itself, and she mentioned she had asked Luc to draw up some plans for that as well but wasn’t sure she wanted to change anything.
“Don’t look at it as change, look at it as updating.”
“It’s not that. I like the vintage-ness Petit has, I don’t want to lose that.”
“From what you have told me about Luc, he is good at what he does. I’m sure if you explain exactly what you’re looking for, he will do it.”
“He does beautiful work. He took me to the warehouse to show me the pool table’s damage. He has some amazing pieces he's been refurbishing. Absolutely beautiful.”
“Then I say do it. The memories will still be there, ‘cause they’re here,” he tapped his temple and his heart. “Besides, just think of all the fun we will have making new ones.”
“It’s just my grandfather built that place. I’d hate to...”
“Have you asked Luc if he could use some pieces he could save?”
“Hmm, no, but that’s a good idea. I didn’t think of that. Gimme a sec, okay.”
Jon watched as she pulled her phone from the pocket and her fingers began busily typing away. No doubt she was texting Luc with this latest news. Setting the phone on the table, she leaned over the table and kissed him. The taste of wine mixed with his scent caused a heat rush between her legs that had her plopping back down in her chair and puffed out a breath.
Shooting her a feral grin, Jon asked, “Is it time for dessert yet?”
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