"So what are you gonna do to me?"
"Remind you of something very, very important."
"And what's that?"
"I'm the best fuck you'll ever find."
That's the closest we'll get to saying 'I love you.' It's fucking awesome.
He undid each button of my shirt so slowly, gently almost. It lulled me into this strange, sleepy place, just watching his beautiful hands, slipping each button out and showing more and more of my skin.
That was why I didn't expect him to grab me, holding me hard by the throat and slam me against the wall.
My head didn't quite hit, but I gasped and opened my mouth to complain. He on the other hand just grabbed my face with his other hand and bit my lower lip, hard.
Harsh and tender, he bit and kissed and licked my torso and my neck. I swear one more second and I'd've come right there, without so much as a squeeze downstairs.
"Jon…ah."
He took a step back.
"Let me just look at you, Morgan."
He ran a thumb over my cheekbone, kissed my near-bleeding lips so softly, and leaned in close.
"Get on your knees."
I dropped like a high school sophomore desperate for attention. And I blew him and swallowed, (yeah, I'm classy like that). Not too much to describe there, y'know what it's like if you've given a blow job before. Lotta jaw strain, strategic swallowing and creative tongue movements. He has a nice dick though. You know a good one when you see it.
I got up and said, "You gonna return the favor?"
He looked at me, fit to bust and said, "No." Damn, guess he's still punishing me.
Later, in the motel's attached diner, Fuu stared straight ahead, avoiding me and Jon's eyes.
"It didn't mean anything," she said. She sounded like a little kid or something, trying to apologize without saying 'sorry'.
Jon smiled, just smiled, and that was scary.
"You should fuck her," I whispered to him.
He looked at her and then at me and shrugged.
"I might. You?"
"Yeah, maybe. Why not?"
"What are you talking about?" she asked. She was a little better at looking at us now.
"You," I said, smiling that real devious smile I got.
"WHAT-ever. If you don't want to tell me just say so."
"Ha."
"Jon, that's not exactly a laugh."
"Close enough," he said, stretching. He looked at his watch.
"Morgan, you drive first today. Fuu, do you drive?"
"Never learned how," she said, picking at a cuticle.
"Useless," he whisper-sighed.
"Not if she's got a tight—" I started to whisper.
"Need anything else?" our waitress interrupted.
"No, we're very fine thank you!" Fuu said, flashing a cute, closed-eye smile.
Jon threw down for breakfast and I threw down for tip. Then, we left.