No rules in breakable heaven
August
Visits to the Aragons' villa become a regular occurrence. John picks Hero up and drops her back home. With her family distracted running the restaurant and Beatrice's focus split between her thesis and applying for jobs, Hero is required to do very little sneaking around. Which is just as well as she is a terrible liar.
She scrambles into the passenger seat of John's car, her heart hammering in her chest, feeling more like a secret agent attending a high-stakes drop-off than someone having a summer fling. When John doesn't immediately drive on, she glances at him. He is staring at her, the corners of his mouth lifted in amusement.
"What?"
He arches his eyebrows, gaze raised to her hat. Hero frowns, tugging on her floppy sun hat. It is big, she admits, but it along with her sunglasses disguise her identity.
"We have nosy neighbours."
"Yeah… I noticed a curtain twitching across the road."
"Oh shoot." Hero slumps in her chair. "Mrs Quickley is the biggest gossip on the street."
He chuckles and starts driving. "If I had a weaker ego, I might think you were embarrassed to be seen with me."
She straightens, needing to dispel this idea immediately. "Not embarrassed. Not at all. I just… want this to be between us."
John nods, passing through the traffic lights. "I agree."
"You haven't told Conrade or Borachio?"
"No, and Beatrice hasn't come for my balls so I guess she's not aware either."
"No."
Hero smiles, a warm fluttering in her stomach at the thought of this being theirs. With John, she finds release in more than one sense. As she glides through the crystalline waters of the pool or tumbles in silk sheets, she feels herself shedding her old insecurities like she sheds her clothes. She is someone different to the Hero everyone thinks they know. It is liberating, exhilarating. When John touches her she feels a thrill that she hasn't in a long-time, and like a little kid making a birthday wish, she wants to keep him all to herself for as long as possible.
:-x-:
She kicks her feet in the pool, enjoying the sparkles of water she sends showering, and tosses her head back, soaking in the sun.
"For you." John hands her the cocktail he just mixed.
She thanks him, taking a sip. "Mmmm, this is perfect."
"Yeah?" He trails his finger up her thigh, tracing the sequin droplets. "This place has its perks."
Hero has become well-acquainted with the Aragons' villa (and its various surfaces) over the course of the last weeks. No longer is she intimidated by its modish stylings or expensive furnishings. As lavish as the house appears, it also feels cold and barren; there are no traces of love in it, no family photos that she has seen. The place is haunted by absence, like no one lives here at all. She shudders to think of sleeping here on her own and doesn't know how John stands it. But then, she is here most of the time now.
"I do enjoy the view," she grins, running a finger over his naked torso.
He smirks and maybe it is the blend of syrup and alcohol in her drink, but Hero feels a giddy rush looking at him. They agreed to keep this casual; no rules, no strings. She will be returning to her studies when the summer ends and he will be moving on to something new. Neither of them are interested in a relationship, this is just for fun. If she were to tell Margaret, she bets her friend would be proud of her. But by her own rules, no one is to know. Especially not their friends. Guilt gnaws in her stomach, but she would rather be eaten alive than face Margaret or Beatrice's reactions to her hooking up with John Aragon.
And if word got back to Claudio…
She pushes those clouds from her mind, keeping her head as clear as the blue sky above, and sips from her cocktail, casting an appreciative eye over John's body. Can anyone blame her?
John seems to know where her thoughts have strayed because he sets his cocktail aside and smooths his hand over her leg, up her calf and along her thigh.
"You're the most beautiful sight here," he tells her, and it should be cheesy but he says it with such sincerity, bending to kiss her thigh.
She shivers at the tickle of his lips, his fingers tracing patterns into her soft skin. Hero has gone still, a quiver of anticipation builds inside her. She has discovered that once John fixates on something, he pursues it with a dogged determination that is certain to lead to trouble and yet Hero has no complaints when his focus is fixed on her pleasure. He never leaves her unsatisfied and if he does in teasing it is not for long. She is not used to having a partner so attentive to her needs but when his eyes go dark and intent like that she knows she is in for another mind-blowing orgasm.
Already she feels herself growing wet. He kisses higher up her thigh, until his face is in her crotch. She inhales, sharp. Then he is levering her legs from the pool, turning her in the process and laying her flat on the patio tiles, a towel placed under her head for a pillow.
Hero's heart rebounds into her throat as he kneels above her. His fingers skim over her waist then catch in the thin straps of her bikini bottoms. He pulls them down her legs in one effortless motion, exposing her to him. Her instinct is to press her legs together, her face hot, even as molten ore pools in her stomach. But John caresses her inner thighs, coaxing her to spread for him.
His gaze is a physical thing, already it is as if he is inside her. Heat flushes down through her stomach to her pink folds, framed in dark curls. He hasn't even touched her yet and she can feel herself dripping. She expects him to use his fingers to open her as he has done almost every day for the last two weeks. Instead, he drops his head and latches his mouth onto her wet pussy. The shrill sound that escapes her is pornographic and she is thankful there are no neighbours to overhear her. His tongue is hot against her, swirling around the tight bud of her until she blooms for him and welcomes him deeper.
She can't form words, a high-pitch keening escaping her as John devours her. Though there is no one else around, her cheeks blaze, threads of fire tangling in her stomach, at the thought of them doing this out in the open. The sun focuses its burning gaze upon them, watching as Hero bucks and writhes under John's mouth, spread out across the patio like a feast. Sweat glistens on her skin as more heat floods from her and is swallowed by John's greedy mouth.
ohgodohgodohgod
"Jj-jhnn…" She just manages to slur his name, feeling as if she is on the precipice of a volcano, steam rising around her, magma bubbling below, earth quaking with the building eruption.
Then his tongue does this coil and flick, striking right on that sensitive point, and she is coming into his mouth. It is fortunate she has the towel for a pillow otherwise she is sure she would have bashed her head open on the stone tiles as she screams her bliss and wouldn't that be an interesting conversation at the hospital.
John eats her out, savouring every drop she spills, lapping it from her thighs as cries and trembles. She collapses, completely wrung out, and John leans back, satisfied. She can see her own come, shining on his perfect lips and a sob escapes her because she is ruined, utterly ruined.
John's tongue darts across his lips, licking up the remaining traces of her. Hero watches, entranced. The corner of his mouth quirks, eyes gleaming. "You look hungry, doll. Can I get you something to eat?"
Hero does the only reasonable thing and shoves him into the pool.
:-x-:
"What about him? He's cute and he keeps looking at you."
Hero follows where her friend points and freezes when she meets the gaze of a — admittedly not unattractive— man with blond curls. He smiles at her and she snaps her attention back to Margaret.
"I told you," she hisses, but not really because it is loud in the club. "I don't want to meet anyone tonight."
Margaret sighs her exasperation. "Why not? Hero, I know Claudio hurt you bad…" Hero frowns at her drink. "...but that's no reason to swear-off men forever. I'm not asking you to date them, hell, you don't even have to fuck them, just flirt a little, have some fun." She pokes her. "Don't think I don't see through all the lame excuses you've been giving me when I try to make plans. I'm worried you're pining the summer away."
Hero twirls her cocktail umbrella, tilting her head so that her hair curtains her face and conceals her blush. She should tell Margaret about John, at least to stop her friend from pointing out every cute guy they pass, but she can't bring herself to speak the words. Besides, she promised John it would be their secret, if she told Margaret now she would be betraying his trust.
"I'm not pining the summer away… I'm out with you, that's all. I'm not going to abandon you for… for some stranger."
Margaret softens, squeezing Hero's hand. "Don't worry about me, I can amuse myself."
Hero drains her drink and tugs on her friend's hand. "Come on, you want me to have fun, let's dance."
Margaret grins and they scoot onto the dancefloor. Despite her friend's concern, Hero is happier and freer than she has been in a long-time. Before this summer, she hadn't been dancing in ages, Claudio not liking her to go out without him but never wanting to do anything himself unless it involved his circle of friends. She sympathised, thinking how much pressure he was under with his final year and job applications. Now he is a fleeting thought as she lets the music flow into her veins, flooded with a newfound confidence, her heart light. Margaret is right beside her and the two of them laugh as they dance, hands intertwined, bumping hips. She feels a rush of love for her friend and is glad she came out tonight, the fluorescent lights painting their skin, each change in song brings a fresh wave of dazzling delight. The thought pops into her head that this night would be even better if John were here but she bats it aside, joining Margaret as they harmonise on the chorus of a song.
Deciding more drinks are called for, they totter to the bar, giving their order.
"Their drinks are on me," a voice says.
Even though the voice is wrong, Hero turns, thinking it is John. Her excitement deflates when she sees it is the blond man from before.
"Why thank you, stranger." Margaret purrs, looking him over. "And what can we call you, besides handsome?"
The stranger flushes, ruffling his curls. "Uh, my name's Cassio." He looks at Hero. "I hope you don't mind me interrupting but you've been catching my eye all night and I had to introduce myself."
It suddenly feels close within the club, Hero's skin turning clammy. Cassio is waiting for her response but she has lost her voice.
Margaret intervenes. "I'm Margaret and this is Hero."
"Hero?" Cassio says with that little chuckle of disbelief everyone does when they first learn her name. "That's a pretty name."
"Thank you…" She offers a timid smile, her earlier confidence fizzling out like a candle.
The bartender brings their drinks and they move to stand around one of the tall circular tables.
"So Cassio," Margaret begins, sipping her drink, "Are you here with anyone?"
"Just some mates," he gestures across the room.
"Will they miss you?" Hero asks tentatively.
"Eh, probably not, but even if they did, I would much rather be talking to you." He smiles at Hero, dimples appearing in his cheeks. She imagines that smile has made a lot of hearts swoon.
Margaret laughs. "Lucky for us. And what is it you do?"
"I'm an officer in training."
"How exciting!" Margaret exclaims, nudging Hero under the table. "I imagine that involves a lot of physical exercise, they want to keep you in shape."
"Oh yeah, it can be brutal but I have no issue with personal fitness."
"I can see that," Margaret casts an eye over the bulging muscles of his arms. "OH! My phone is buzzing." She rummages around in her purse. "Excuse me while I take this."
Hero tries to catch Margaret's gaze, willing her not to leave, but her friend tosses her a wink before sashaying to the club's entrance.
"So Hero…" Her stomach churns as she turns back to Cassio. "What is it you do?"
"Um… I'm still at university but I'm training to be a teacher."
"Really? A teacher in what?"
Cassio is nice, smiling charmingly and showing an interest in Hero even as she stumbles over her replies, clutching her drink like a lifeline and deflecting his flirting attempts. His eyes are a clear blue, coupled with his golden curls, they give him a lovely angelic quality. She tries to focus on what he is saying but her thoughts keep drifting to raven locks and a sinful gaze.
"Should we go somewhere quieter?" He grins as she struggles to respond to something she only half-heard.
Her heart ricochets, pulse pounding as her skin prickles. She does not want to leave with this man, however nice or charming he seems.
"Uhhh… Margaret has been gone a while. I should find her and check that she is okay."
"She's over there. She's fine. Looks like she has company."
Hero follows where he motions and stiffens. Margaret is indeed sitting at another table and she is not alone. With her is Borachio, the two of them laughing about something, next to them is Conrade and, inexplicably, John. He is staring right at her; their eyes lock. She feels scorched, his gaze searing through her clothes. Blood rushes to her head, wondering how long he has been watching her with Cassio. She feels caught even though there is no reason she should.
"So…" Cassio's voice breaks through the crackling in her ears. "Do you want to get out of here?"
Hero rips out of John's gaze back to Cassio, unable to process all the competing thoughts screaming at her. John is here. Cassio is asking her to leave with him. What is John doing here?
"Hero?"
"MICHAEL CASSIO!"
"Oh shit," Cassio chokes as a woman marches over to him, spearing his chest with her long, red fingernails.
"First you ignore my messages, now I find you here talking to some slut!"
Hero flinches at the familiar insult.
"Bianca—" Cassio splutters. His drink is thrown in his face.
"ASSHOLE!" Bianca screams, mascara streaking. She stalks to the exit.
Cassio stands there, soaked and cursing. He looks from Bianca's retreating form to Hero, then takes off after the former. Hero stands there in a daze.
"Hero?" Margaret is beside her. "What happened? Are you okay?"
Hero stares into Margaret's worried expression and a snort escapes her, followed by a laugh. Margaret looks at her as if she has gone mad, then she is laughing too, the two women collapsing into giggles, clutching each other.
"Oh gosh, that was crazy!" Margaret exclaims, squeezing Hero's shoulder and guiding her in the direction of the others. "I'm so sorry. I thought he was cute but—"
"It's alright, Margaret. I wasn't interested in him anyway." She meets John's gaze as she reaches the table and, even though he remains expressionless, she knows he heard her.
"That was quite a show," Conrade drawls. "Almost worth Borachio dragging us here."
"Not to be rude, but you didn't have to bring them," Margaret addresses Borachio.
He shrugs. "They were with me when you called. They wanted to come."
"I didn't want—ow!" Conrade cuts off as there is a thump under the table.
Hero gives John a curious look. He swigs from his drink and doesn't meet her gaze.
"As long as we are here, who's up for shots!" Margaret cheers.
Being out with John and his friends is weird but not unpleasant. She is hyper-conscious of her behaviour towards him and how they are perceived. She will find herself shifting closer to him, moving to touch him and catching herself at the last minute remembering no one knows about them. She sees none of the same struggle in John, but their hands will brush on accident as they both reach for their drinks, his arm grazing her own as he shifts his stance. She watches as his shoulders relax, adjusting to Margaret's brazen humour.
Before the rounders game at the beach, Hero never spent time with Borachio and Conrade. Borachio is bawdy but kind of sweet, especially to Margaret; she wouldn't have called him her friend before but he treats Hero as if she is his. Conrade, in contrast, is full of sneers and snide remarks but some of his comments make Hero laugh. It is like watching an affectionate boxer dog play with a hissing tomcat; and John is the quiet measure between the two of them. They make for an odd trio but somehow it works.
Hero takes careful sips of her drink, not trusting she won't reveal something if she becomes too drunk (she still cringes to remember that disastrous night at Revellers even though everything worked out with John). Margaret is less controlled and is slurring her speech, sagging against Borachio and stroking his jaw, when he suggests they call it a night.
"Nnooo," Margaret whines. "I want to do karaoke!"
Conrade and John look terrified.
Borachio pats Margaret's hand, helping her from her chair. "Another time, darling. Come on, time for bed."
"Mmm, bed," Margaret gives him a flirtatious grin, unbuttoning his shirt.
Borachio catches her hand. "Not when you're inebriated."
"I'm not ine-inebri-eni-meni-mini—Hero, tell him."
Hero steadies Margaret and looks at Borachio. "I'll help you get her home."
"Thanks. John, you're the designated driver."
John rises coolly from his seat, hand sliding into his trouser pockets, and nods. "I hope she can walk, I'm parked a few streets from here."
They step out into the night. Hero wraps her arms around herself.
"Cold? John pauses beside her. "If Conrade were a gentleman he'd lend you his jacket."
"You lend her your jacket, you ass," Conrade snarls back. "I'm cold too."
John shrugs out of his jacket, revealing a long-sleeve top underneath, and holds it out to Hero. "One of us should have manners."
Hero's smile twitches as she accepts it and pulls it on. "Thank you, kind sir."
Ahead of them, Margaret stumbles. "Ugh, blooming heels!" She kicks off her shoes, leaving her barefoot.
"Jump on my back, I'll give you a piggyback ride," Borachio offers, bending down for her.
Margaret grins, vaulting onto him, and the pair go whooping down the street. Hero, John, and Conrade follow at a subdued pace.
"Soo, Hero, who was that guy?" Conrade asks with a gleam to his eyes and Hero remembers what John said about Conrade liking gossip.
"Uh… what guy?"
"The Adonis who had the drink thrown in his face."
"Oh." Cassio. She had forgotten about him. She peeks at John out of the corner of her eye; his jaw is set, gaze ahead. "He was just some guy. He approached us."
"Looks like you were trying to play Persephone and his Aphrodite wasn't best please."
"Um…" Hero tries to wrap her head around this metaphor. "Isn't Persephone married to Hades? What does she have to do with Adonis?"
Conrade sighs like she has missed his point and doesn't explain. "It's a pity for you that she showed up. Maggie called Bo thinking you were about to have other plans."
"You think — no — that's not, I wasn't — I was never going to leave with Cassio."
"Was that his name? I can see the problem, too similar to the ex, names are easily bungled. But wait. Oh honey. You're not still harbouring a torch for Claudio, are you?"
Hero gives a strangled squawk. "Absolutely not."
"Conrade," John's voice is a warning. It makes the hairs on Hero's skin rise, a familiar heat stoking in her belly. "You're being an ass."
Conrade splutters and hisses like a flame extinguished then huffs. "My pardon, Hero. My tongue gets away from me."
Hero accepts the apology, assuring him no offence has been taken and they carry on in an unspoken truce until they reach John's car. John drives Margaret home first. Hero and Borachio carry her inside while the former guides her up the stairs to her bedroom. Margaret's mother pokes her head out at the noise and smiles when sees them, taking control of the situation. Hero leaves her friend, wishing her a good night's sleep, and hurries back to the car.
As John drives, she steals glances at him. Their eyes connect through the rear view mirror and she drops his gaze, tugging his jacket tighter. Conrade and Borachio are returned to their homes next and Hero settles into the front passenger seat. John steers the car off the street.
"Are you taking me to my place or yours?" She inquires, watching him.
He keeps his eyes on the road. "It's late. You should be in your own bed."
"John… is something wrong?"
"No."
She considers him, trying to read his expression through the passing illumination of the streetlights. "I really wasn't interested in Cassio… he approached us and Margaret abandoned me."
"You don't have to explain yourself to me. I'm not your boyfriend."
"Yes, but…" She regards the shadowed houses as they pass, recognises her neighbourhood. "John… can you pull in here, this turning here."
"Why?"
"Please."
He abides, turning into the empty car park. "Where are we?"
"The community centre. Turn off your headlights."
He does so, cutting the engine. "What are we doing here?"
She unclips her seatbelt and leans across the gearstick to kiss him. John tenses for a moment then relaxes into her, one hand clasping her waist, the other rising to her face. The world is quiet, slumbering on; the only sounds are the meeting of their lips and distant vehicles.
She trails her hand down his front, locating his belt buckle and fumbles to undo it.
"Hero…" John breaks from her. "What… what are we doing?"
A very good question. Hero answers by claiming his mouth again, smiling into his lips. Her fingers hook in his collar. With less grace than she hoped, she wriggles backwards through the gap between their chairs and lands on the backseats.
"John." She only has to call him once and he is clambering into the back to join her, tripping over the handbrake and landing on-top of her, sending them both sprawling across the backseats, laughing.
"What are you doing?" He rumbles as she hauls his shirt over his head, hands smoothing over the muscles of his stomach. "We could be arrested for public indecency."
"It is past two in the morning, no one is going to see us." She pulls her dress over her head, not caring about creases as she bunches it into a ball and throws it into the front passenger seat. She seizes his hand and presses it to her breast. "Don't you want to touch me?"
"Always," he shudders out, his fingers fan across the lace of her bra, doing the seeing for him. "I don't think I've seen this one before."
"Mmm…" Her hand slides into the front of his jeans and he gasps. "It's a matching set."
"Fuck." John bucks into her palm. "Dressing up for someone?"
"No."
She withdraws him from his pants, running her hands over the length of him. John groans as she strokes him, panting her name. She relies on those sounds to tell her how close he is, unable to see his face through the dark. He is practically vibrating in her hands. She bends, bumps her chin, and John curses. Precome dampens her cheek. She is more successful on her second attempt, taking him into her mouth.
"Holy shit," John exclaims as Hero sucks his cock, tongue flicking over his head, nothing of the cool composure from earlier.
She waits until she has him desperate and squirming then pulls off. In a hoarse voice she asks, "Do you have a condom?"
"Nghh—fuck, fuck—" He springs into motion, searching his pockets then diving for the glove compartment. "—fuck, fuck — yes!"
She hears the rustle of foil, as he rolls it on him, then his hand is on the back of her head, fingers ensnared in her curls and he crushes his mouth against hers. She shoves her panties down, to be lost in the dark recesses of his car and straddles his lap, lowering herself onto his cock with practised ease.
"Fuck, Hero…" John growls into her mouth, his tongue whipping along her teeth.
"JohnJohn…" She burrows into him, clinging to him and the nearest headrest.
Everything is so much more intense in the dark, her senses electrified. She breathes in the scent of salt and ozone, like lightning about to strike, and rides the storm.
His fingers curl around her pulse, as he thrusts into her, murmuring filth into her ear. "...wanna hear you scream… want you to wake the neighbours… come on, baby… let them hear how good you fuck me…"
"OhJohnOhOHOHJOHN!"
Her vision goes white. John's own exclamation thunders through her ear. They collapse onto the back seats, crumpled together, a warm stickiness seeping between them.
"Shit…" John groans, sprawled across her. "That's going to be hell to get-out of the upholstery."
Hero giggles, kissing below his collarbone. "We'll have to stay like this."
His fingers tiptoe along her bottom, pinching the soft flesh. "Think we'll have to move before the sun comes up."
She leans her cheek against the drum of his heartbeat. "We have plenty of time before then."