Shelby

"I keep trying to call you, but I just get the voicemail. Where've you been? What's going on?"

Shelby rolled her eyes at her mother's high pitched, overdramatic whine in her ear, coming out of the phone she cradled between her head and her shoulder. On the stove, four pots were going at once. The counter was covered in salad fixings-lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, carrots and cheese, all waiting to be sliced and tossed together. Shelby kept one eye on the clock and the other on the oven timer. JC was supposed to be coming by around 9 o'clock for dinner. Chances were that he wouldn't show up until closer to 9:30 or 10, but that didn't give her nerves any relief.

"Sorry, mom. I've just been really busy. I started taking some Business classes at UCF. It's accelerated, you know? So you do like, a whole semester in half the time."

"Oh. I didn't know you decided to do that."

Renee sounded miffed and a little left out. Shelby could commiserate-she was used to being able to lean on her mom for support and comfort, but lately she just didn't have time between classes, a few bartending shifts a week, and JC to keep her up-to-date on everything in her life. She just barely had time and energy to keep up with their weekly date, but skipping it was not an option. JC was like a habit, a very, very good habit that she intended to keep up as long as she could.

Like tonight-Shelby went to class, stopped at the library to meet with her study group, and covered a short shift at Antigua, arriving home with just enough time to start her enchiladas, Spanish rice,  refried beans and salad. After two months of going out to eat every week, she thought it would be a nice change to eat in, but the pressure that she put on herself to make it perfect was stressing her out.

To complicate matters, Renee didn't know about JC. Shelby wasn't sure what to tell her, in the beginning. She really wasn't sure what to tell her, now, either. They still kept things pretty casual, in the here and now. On occasion JC offered up details about the past-as a solo artist, or working with ‘Nsync, or as a music producer or writer-but she'd never asked him to share those details. Never asked follow-up questions.

Not that she wasn't curious about it all, about the person he was back then compared to the person he had become, or if he had ever fallen prey to the temptations of being a household name. He had to have, at some point-what mattered was the degree to which he had fallen and how changed he was on the other side. She was insanely curious about his life in LA, and what he was doing back in Orlando, but bit her tongue and didn't ask, because he believed in equality and would want to ask her questions, and she couldn't answer questions about Lucas. The nugget that Shelby had given him weeks before about a fiancé was eating at him, she could tell. He was going to be asking for more details soon. She wasn't quite ready to tell him yet. Shelby wasn't sure she would be ready to tell him, ever.

Dinner was coming along nicely, so Shelby took a few minutes to chat with her mother about how life was working out for her in Orlando. After a few rocky weeks, things were looking up-she had even made a few friends at the bar and in her classes. It was nice to be able to smile and breathe again, to answer the phone without worrying about hearing eerie silence, followed by a hissing, angry, hateful message. Against her better judgment, Shelby had begun to relax.  JC said, pretty often, ‘you can't spend your life looking over your shoulder. Turn around and look at where you're going.  Don't look at where you've been.' He was full of useful, random phrases. If only he knew how well they applied to her life.

As she figured, her cell phone alerted with a text that he was leaving the studio a few minutes after 9 o'clock. That would put him at her house just before 10, which was perfect timing for everything to come out of the oven or the refrigerator. The piece de resistance-a chocolate torte from Dessert Lady-sat on a shelf in the refrigerator, waiting to be sliced into and devoured. Sometimes from plates. Sometimes from each other. That was her favorite part of Thursday nights.

"So, I hear like... food. Plates and things. Are you having friends over?"

Shelby smiled to herself. Her mother was pretty sneaky sometimes.  "I am having a friend over, yes."

"Oh? A friend?"

"Mmmhmmm..."

"Oh. Well. Then...."

Shelby snickered, feeling like she was talking to her high school "BFF" instead of her mom. "You know you want to ask."

"Okay, then. I'll ask. Is this friend a boy?"

"This friend is a boy," Shelby admitted, opening the refrigerator to retrieve a few bottles of beer.

"Oh. But... not a boyfriend."

"No, not a boyfriend."

"Well... are you and this friend...well, I mean... is this friend a....does he..."

"Enjoy benefits?" Shelby held back burst of childish giggles, imagining the blush that was crawling up her mother's neck, the pained look crossing her face, the way her eyes would probably slowly close and her head would fall into her hands.

"Is that what they call having sex with boys who aren't your boyfriend, these days?"

"Yeah, mom. Friends with benefits. Or uhm... fuck buddies."

"Fuck buddies?" She squelched more laughter at hearing her mother say fuck.

"Yeah, fuck buddies. Friends who fuck."

"Well. I mean... if that's what's making you so happy, you know, uhm..." Her voice trailed off, as it often did when she and Shelby discussed sex. Shelby found it funny. Renee wasn't as amused, but rarely shied away. "I mean, is it? Making you happy?"

Shelby leaned against the counter, cordless phone at her ear, eyes on the window over the sink that gave a perfect view of the driveway. The neighborhood was pretty quiet at this time of night. Any headlights she saw would probably be JC pulling in.

"Mmm... It's part of it. Not all of it, but part of it. I actually met him the week I got here, at the grocery store. I looked like shit. He liked me anyway. That's a good guy, huh?"

"Oh, that one. The one you were so upset about? You see, I told you, next time would be better. Besides, even when you think you look like..." She hesitated, almost spitting out the curse word, "...like shit... you look fine. You have a natural beauty. You just don't see it."

"Mom, I'm your kid. You're obligated to say that."

"I sure am. You look just like me." Shelby joined her mother in a bout of uncontrollable laughter. Renee was something else.

"Well, I guess he agrees with you, then. We've been seeing each other once a week for a couple of months. He's real nice."

"So, what is his name? What does he do?" Shelby rolled her eyes at the ‘mom questions' but answered them anyway. She was screaming inside to tell someone, anyone about him.

"His name is JC. Or that's what he goes by. I think his name is Josh. And he works in music. You know that guy Rod Phillips? He had that song a few years ago, Evil Side of Me? They played it nonstop on KISS. Anyway, he wrote that song for Rod, and he's doing more work for him, now.  Writing and stuff, I guess, working with the band on the music. He sang for me, one day. His voice is awesome."

"A musician, then. Hmmmmm."  Renee had a tone of voice, when she wanted to say something but knew she shouldn't, but if you asked her, she could say it-and then you couldn't hold it against her, because you asked. Shelby was aware of all of her tricks and games.  

"Mom?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Nothing."

"Mom."

"Shelby. I mean... well. I just watched one of those VH1 things on relationships with musicians. I'm not sure if dating a musician is a good step for you, right now. They make awful boyfriends. The hours and the women and the drugs and the egos..."

"Good thing he isn't my boyfriend then, right?"

Renee was silent for a few moments, and then quietly conceded. "Yeah. I guess. Just uhm... you know. Well, of course you're being careful. About everything. Does he know about the... Lucas thing?"

"No. He doesn't know about Lucas." Ah, the big question. There was always a big question, wasn't there? Would the ‘Lucas Thing' always be the big question? When would her dead ex fiancé not matter anymore? When would she be able to go through life and not have to consider Lucas or his ex-wife, or his children?  

"Are you going to tell him?"

"I'm trying not to. But he's getting curious and starting to ask questions. I'm hoping I can hold off for awhile. I mean, we're just hanging out. You know? No need for him to know every detail about me."

"That's true. It's not really his business. Right?"

"Right. Yeah."

Two long beams of light crawled down the street in front of her house, and then lit up her driveway as they turned. JC had arrived. "Okay, mom, he just showed up. I made dinner for him, so we're going to eat and watch some movies. I'll give you a call tomorrow, or over the weekend. Okay? Love you, bye!"

Shelby hung up before Renee could get in another word and rushed to the door, flinging it open before he could knock. JC stood on the porch in a white button down shirt, grey vest and black jeans, his leather bag over his shoulder and a smile on his lips.

"I'm so happy to see you," she said, beaming, wanting to yank him inside and press herself against him for about an hour.

"The feeling is very, very mutual," he said, stepping inside and letting her close the door before he wrapped an arm around her waist and dropped his head to her lips, giving her a lengthy kiss that threatened to put off dinner. He wiped her lip gloss off of his lips with this thumb. "Been thinking about you today."

"I like hearing that. I was thinking about you, too. Just talking about you, actually." JC dropped his bag near the front door and followed her into the kitchen.

"Talking about me? To who? Yourself?"

She handed him both beers and an opener. "My mom."

"Oh." He took both beers and popped them open, then stood there holding them, watching her move hot food to serving plates. She nodded her head toward the dining room table, where she began transferring dishes and then plates and silverware. They sat across from each other, the chandelier above them on what she called ‘mood lighting', which was really just a dimmer. It softened the harsh light of the bright bulbs, though and made for a romantic meal, even if you were having pizza.

"So you told your mom what?"

"Just that I had a friend. And that the friend was a boy."

"Oh." JC stabbed at his enchilada, shoving half of it into his mouth, and then realizing it was piping hot, sucked down a swallow of beer. Around a mouthful of food, he asked, "That's it?"

"No." She chuckled and glanced up from her plate, blowing on the steaming hot food on her fork. "I told her you were my friend with benefits."

JC choked on a spoonful of rice, his face obviously pink, even under the soft lighting. "You told her that? Seriously," he said, choking and coughing.

"Mmmhmm," she said, laughing quietly. "I get a kick out of saying things like that to her. She pretends to hate it."

"Yeah well, weirdness runs in your family, I think. So what did she say? Am I in trouble?"

"The usual mom stuff. Go slow. Be careful. Don't break his penis. Things like that."

"She-"  JC's eyes bugged out, opening wide. "She did not say that. Shelby. Tell me she did not say that."

Shelby giggled, rolling her eyes. "She didn't say that, JC. God, you're gullible. She just said be careful, because you're a musician, and she watches a lot of VH1, so she knows all about musicians, you know."

"Oh yeah. Those shows are true to life. Describes every one of us, exactly to a tee."

"Right.. I think she might be secretly pleased that I'm gettin' some. She said I seem happy."

JC grinned while he chewed, his chest puffing with pride. "Well, I'll take credit for that part."

"I knew you would."

"You can take all the credit for my happiness. I willingly give that to you."

"Thank you. Happy to do my part." Shelby went back to her meal, arguing with herself about asking the question on the tip of her tongue, finally deciding to go for it. Get it out in the open. "So does uhm... anyone know about me? In your life? It's fine, if the answer is no."

"Why is that fine?"

She shrugged, biting into another forkful of food. "Maybe I like being your dirty little secret."

"You're not that big of a secret," said JC, picking at his teeth with his tongue. "My family knows I'm seeing someone. Mostly because they know I take Thursday nights off and they keep trying to plan things for Thursday and I keep telling them it's not a good night. I finally had to tell them why it's not a good night. And uh.... Rod knows. I don't know if the band knows, but...." He threw up his hands and went back to his dinner. "Whatever."

Suddenly, food was stuck in her throat. It was all she could do to swallow. "Rod knows? How... how does Rod know?"

"Oh. That. He uhm... was snooping around in my phone. Found a text message you sent me, that day after we were messing around in the backyard." He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows. "He thought it was hot, if that matters."

JC kept eating, like nothing was wrong. No, nothing was wrong at all. Nothing except the biggest mouth and the center of every music industry drama lately knew JC Chasez was seeing someone.  Shelby stared across the table, unable to even blink. If it matters? Was he serious?

"You know, JC, that I don't want it getting around too much. That we're hanging out."

"I know. I'm not broadcasting it, Shelby."

A sharp pain stabbed her in the head, right above an eye-Shelby was sure she was having s stroke.

"You're not broadcasting it, but you left your phone where he could see it? Just... open to that text message? From last week? So, did he really find it, or did you share the message with him? What other messages has he seen, from me? Well, so I guess I won't send you anymore text messages. Fuck, JC!" One hand shot to her brow, where beads of sweat were beginning to collect. Her breathing was erratic, her vision darkening. ‘No, no, no, no! This is not happening!'

"Shelby." JC's fork clanged as he dropped it on his plate and reached across the table to grab her wrist. He gripped it tightly, forcing her to look up at him. "Relax. He saw one message. I totally blew up at him over it. My phone never leaves my body, now. And I would never share that with him, willingly, not ever. Come on. I know we just met and all but you should know me better than that by now."

‘Breathe! Okay, don't overreact. Don't panic. It probably means nothing. Rod probably doesn't give a shit who JC is dating. He's too busy "poppin' bottles and fuckin' models" to think about anyone else, right? So, breathe. Eat. Enjoy your dinner and your company.

Following her own advice, Shelby inhaled a deep breath, then slowly emptied her lungs, letting the tension slide out with it. "I'm sorry. Like I said, I don't want it getting around, you know. I like my privacy."

"Of course. So do I. And it's not like LA, where everything I do ends up on some blog or on some website somewhere. We'll be okay? Alright?"

"Okay." She was breathing easier and hungry again, digging into her enchilada and rice.

"Did you get cake?" Shelby smiled as she chewed, catching the look in his eye and appreciating it. And looking forward to dessert.

JC

That was entirely unnecessary.

JC wasn't a nosy person. He really didn't care what her background was, what her past was. What bothered him was the secrecy, sidestepping the landmines of things they could discuss. Shelby made it a point to keep him at arm's length outside of the bedroom, keeping things light and friendly and casual. He was as open to that as the next guy. A girl that didn't demand the ‘girlfriend' label after two dates was a breath of fresh air.

Maybe it was the secrecy and the mystery around her. Maybe it the fact that she was sort of unavailable-only sort of because she seemed to only be seeing him. Hell, maybe it was just the great sex and her incredible ass and those breasts that he dreamt about, but JC had every intention of moving this... whatever it was... relationship? Forward. If she would let it happen, that was. His biggest fear was that she wouldn't, based on whatever it was she was hiding.

He could, however, understand her freak-out over Rod finding out about her. JC didn't put it past Rod to find some angle to expose her-maybe as a gold-digger, maybe a ‘local girl' preying upon musicians, painting the picture, setting the scene. Even worse, Rod had connections. If he wanted to, he could learn more about Shelby than Shelby wanted anyone to know. And then take it to the press, and play the ‘good friend' who ‘warned him' about ‘girls like her'. JC felt caught, twisted in a vise grip and the pressure was starting to get to him.

Life was looking up, for JC. The band was cohesive, sometimes even friendly. Duke had made an almost 180 degree turn and was now coming to JC with ideas and changes on songs, ideas that didn't even feature him and didn't even push him out front, just ideas that would make songs sound better. Six of  twelve new songs had been written and perfected. Four of those had been recorded, and the others were coming up in the following weeks. Plans for the tour the following year were at the baby stages but would ramp up, soon.

His life was about to be very busy, very full, very fun. He was itching to be on a stage again, to feel the energy thrust from the crowd, ball it up and throw it back. It was everything he dreamt about lately. Besides having Shelby there with him to enjoy it.

If he wanted to, Rod could totally throw a kink into that plan.

Shelby

It was a perfect night in Orlando, not hot but nowhere near cold. Shelby had talked JC into enjoying a dip in the hot tub after dinner before they settled in for the night. The sun had set, the residual bands of rose and gold lingering across the sky. The hot tub bubbled around them as they sat next to one another, facing cold beers in hand.

"I love that on you," JC had said when she came out of the bedroom wearing a new two piece swimsuit. It was black, cut to cover the most important parts but still accentuate the parts it was supposed to show off. His eyes were as wide as his smile as they traveled her body, head to toe. Shelby thanked him with a kiss, not even feeling modest enough to blush at the compliment. No need-- she tried really hard to find a suit that looked good on her.

As soon as she brought it home, she dug through her drawers and threw away every single dowdy one piece bathing suit she'd been forced to wear to every single beach party or pool party she had attended with Lucas. He didn't like her to show off much skin. He especially didn't like his colleagues looking at her. She especially didn't like their wives looking at her, and complaining about their husbands looking at her. All of it, that old Shelby and that old life was long gone. She tossed them all, and the garbage man had come to pick them up that morning with the rest of the trash. She hoped they were mulch, now.

JC wore a plain pair of briefs, dark blue, which hung off of his slight hips. Sometimes, Shelby thought, it was hard to look at him without licking her lips. The feel of him, the taste of him, the smell of him, just touching him, holding him in her hands was erotic. It fueled her daydreams, and offered substance for those nights when she fell into bed, exhausted, and happened to catch a whiff of him on a pillow, or in a room and longed to be with him. She had to close her eyes and imagine him there, touching and kissing and licking and stroking until her hips bucked on their own and her mouth fell open and moans fell out and she was in utter bliss until she slowly came down and amazingly, fell into a deep sleep.

Being able to sleep was making all the difference in the world. She wasn't sleeping all night, every night, but she was sleeping more, and longer, especially if JC was there. She was trying not to let him, but he was turning her world on end. And she hated to admit it, but it was kind of a good thing.

"Your classes are going okay? Everything good? You seem a little stressed out."

Shelby nodded, relaxing against the side of the hot tub, ice cold bottle of beer at her lips. "They are going swimmingly," she said, lifting an eyebrow. He laughed, of course. He liked silly jokes like that. He told enough of them.

"Heh," he chuckled, an arm around her, his hand tapping her on the shoulder. "Great. Swimming puns."

"I'm picking this shit up from you, you know."

"Oh, I don't think so," he said, laughing. "The night we met, what did you say? Something about us running into each other again sometime?" He shook his head, swigging his own beer. "Nah, mama. That's all you."

Shelby laughed, remembering that night. "Hey. I was tired. I'm surprised I remember half of what came out of my mouth."

"We probably both weren't at our best that night. Maybe that was a good thing. We didn't have any walls up, or anything."

"Maybe. I guess."

They fell silent, watching the stars twinkle and the moon glow. The porch lights were on sensors, set to turn on at a specific time. Behind them, a light popped on, illuminating the porch and the pool.

"Shelby."

She lifted her head from the hypnotic pattern of bubbles breaking the surface of the water. "Hmmm?"

"You're not worried about Rod and all that right?"

Shelby tensed, trying not to get worked up again. "I guess not. I mean, it just matters, like, how interested he is in who you're dating. If he doesn't care, it's not a big deal. But if he's trying to find out... I mean..."

"Shelby, that's what I'm saying, though. Would it be that big of a deal if he found something out? I mean, you said you had a fiancé, back in Miami. Is this guy like a big shot or something?"

She could cut the sudden tension between then with a knife as she sat in stony silence in the hot tub. He didn't follow up his question with another. Just sat there, sipping his beer and glancing at her every few seconds.

 "He was," she finally blurted, a few minutes later.

"Was? What's that mean? Is he in prison or something?"

"No, he's not in prison. Listen, JC..." Shelby hesitated. "I don't want to talk about this. About him. I keep saying it and you keep pushing it. How much clearer do I need to be?"

"It makes me wonder what you're hiding, and what I'm getting myself into. And you're freaking out that someone might find something out about you. I'm just wondering what that something is and why it's such a big deal."

Shelby said nothing, really just hoping it blew over, like it had at dinner. Because if it didn't soon, she was going to have to begin some evasive maneuvers.

"I mean, I have something at stake here, too. If it's something that'll affect me, I should probably know whatever it is."

"JC... there's nothing I'm hiding. There's nothing that's going to hurt you, or affect you. I'm trying to keep the boundaries in place here, is all. There are things you don't need to know. You won't know them. Okay?" She looked at him, one eyebrow cocked, daring him to keep the argument going.

He relented, averting his eyes. "I guess it has to be," he said quietly.

"So we're dropping it again, right?"

Tight lipped, he nodded. "Consider it dropped."

Finally, she could relax. For the meantime. "Okay. Great. Do you want to go inside? Have some dessert? It's cooling down pretty fast out here. My shoulders are cold."

They got out of the hot tub, each wrapped in a large Hawaiian print towel. Shelby turned off the bubbling tub and JC followed her back into the house, but lagged behind her a few steps.

"Uhm.."

Shelby turned around and was alarmed at the look on his face. His forehead wrinkled and his eyes were hooded. He stroked his cheek with the palm of one hand while he stood next to the dining room table. "I think I'm gonna head home," he said. "I'm just... not feelin' us tonight."

He started to walk around her.  Eyes wide, she held out her arms, barring him from walking any further. "JC... okay, I'm sorry.  Please, don't go. I've been looking forward to seeing you all week."

"I know. Me too. I'm tired, though. And I feel like I'm just picking fights with you and I don't want to."

"Then don't," she said, drawing both arms around him, stepping into him closer, as close as she could get, which happened to be pretty damn close. She pressed into him, encouraged by the feeling of him pressing into her belly. She gave him her sexiest smile and grabbed his hands, twisting her fingers between his. "Don't pick fights with me, then. Stay. And... relax, and forget about everything else out there in your world and have some fun."

JC stared down at her. His indecision played out in the expression on his face, in the changing colors of his eyes. "Come on," she prodded, teasing. "You're really... seriously... leaving... without fucking me? Like you do every Thursday night?"

JC started to smile, his tongue snaking out to lick his bottom lip. She almost had him. She knew it. "I do like  that part. And you did buy dessert. Can't let that go to waste."

"No," she said, gravely. "We can't. If you want, we can just lay down for awhile. We can order a movie and watch it in the bedroom. You know we never watch a whole movie in there."

"On the TV? The one I hung? The one that should be watching us, not us watching it?"

Shelby grinned. She had him." Yeah. That one. What do you want it to watch us do?"

"Oh, Shelby woman. I have ideas."

JC

Shelby was entirely confusing and yet captivating. Frustrating but endearing and sexy and wonderful but so fucking mysterious. She drove him crazy, both his mind and his heart. And throw his dick in there, too. He only had to think about her before it started to suck all the blood from his body and sense from his mind.

He should have left. He had every intention of leaving, really. In the end, he didn't, and he was happy about that, because no sooner had they hit the bedroom than Shelby was on the attack, pushing him up against the wall, tearing the towels from his waist and hers, stretching up on her toes to meet his lips and kissing him, hard. To make matters worse...or... better, she cocked one leg up on his hip and ground herself against him.

When he could get a lip free and he could take a breath he pulled back to look at her. She was stunning in that swim suit. It hit her in all the right places and oh, there were so many right places, from the swell of her breasts and rock hard nipples poking out to her long, slender waist to her hips and perfectly round ass sitting on top of legs he had only dreamt about before. So yeah, he didn't leave. ‘Sue me.'

"Do you wanna take this off?" She lifted her arms above her head and stood in front of him, expectant. Since she was offering, he did it for her.

"Always available to lend a helping hand, ma'am."

"Thank you sir," she said, stepping out of the wet bottoms and tossing them toward the bathroom, along with the top. "I seem to be naked," she teased. "Hmmm. I've noticed you appear to still have clothes on. Do you require assistance?"

In a flash, he matched her nakedness, his briefs joining her swimsuit in the bathroom. "Somethin' to think about tomorrow," he said, bending to kiss her, capturing her mouth and dueling with her tongue. She laughed, stepping backward, feeling her way toward the bed and climbed up, without breaking the kiss.

"You're so talented," he said, in a break that was only a few seconds long before his lips were on her again. She hummed in agreement, sighing into his mouth as he sank onto her.

Who was he kidding? He was never leaving. He had been craving her for days on end, trying hard to hide the staring into space and the happy grin from Rod and the other guys. Trying not to whistle, especially because, according to Rod, he only whistled when he was getting regular sex and he had noticed that he was a nonstop teakettle lately. She consumed his thoughts, day and night, and nothing satisfied a longing or a craving for her but her.

JC felt a weight lift off of his shoulders as soon as he sank onto her. She felt so familiar, by now. He knew every winding turn of her curves, every nook and cranny. He especially liked the crannies, one in particular that he was getting a lot of pleasure out of stroking. She was hot and wet and tight around one and then two and then three fingers. Her hips were moving so seductively, so wildly. Shelby was so openly sexy, so unashamed. He loved that about her.

As he lowered his head to a breast, flicking over a nipple, watching it grow hard as he blew on it, smiling at her moaning and crying out and the dirty, nasty phrases she was grunting into the air, he tried to make his mind skip over that ‘L' thing. He did not just think that he loved her. He thought that he loved something about her. He wasn't in love with her. He hardly knew her.

That argument wasn't going to work for very long. And that ‘L' thing couldn't stick around, not with Shelby keeping things so very casual. He was going to have to come up with something to keep himself from falling in love with her.

At the moment, though he was distracted from that ‘L' thing by Shelby grabbing at his hair, clawing at his back as he moved his fingers in and out of her like a piston, pressing on her clit like no tomorrow and making small, slow rotations-as best he could, because she was all the way up off of the bed, screaming at the top of her lungs for him to fuck her.

So he did. She was so wet and ready and on the edge that he slid right in, all the way, right away, bringing Shelby to a wild, thrashing orgasm in a matter of strokes. ‘Yeah. I still got that,' he thought, mentally patting himself on the back while he kept moving above her, working toward his own climax.

"Wait!" Shelby sat bolt upright, pushing wild hair back from her face, glistening with sweat. "Hold on.  Wait."

He stopped and sat up, worried that he'd hurt her or something. Things could get a little wild... maybe he didn't know his own strength, or something. "What? What's wrong?"

Shelby stared up at him, mischief in her eyes. "What's your favorite position?"

He blinked, poised above her, getting harder and more frustrated by the second, needing a warm wet hole to bury into. "Shelby.... I like a lot of them. I especially like the one we were in. Why?"

"Pick one and I'll do it. Any one. Pick one that'll make you come so hard you see stars."

"Uh..." He couldn't even think. Pretty much if she touched him, right that second, he would come hard. The decision didn't even have to be all that involved.

"You wanna do it from the back? You like that, right?"

JC sighed, trying to remain patient. She had to have some kind of... point. At least he hoped she did. "Honey-I just... want to have sex. Actually. I don't care if you're hanging from the ceiling when I do it. You're killing me, right now."

A glimmer. An evil little glint. He saw it, in her eyes. And then a smile. She turned over, set herself up on her hands and knees and shook her ass at him. "Then stick it in and go to town, baby."

He swore he felt a sigh as he sank into her again. And then he remembered why she asked if he wanted to do it this way. It felt fucking amazing!

He growled, something low and guttural and erotic and sexy, gripping her hips, holding her where he wanted her, working the way she liked it, around and around and then hard thrusts, slamming against her until she was pushing back against him, her voice a high pitched yelp as she came again. A fierce series of clenches and convulsions teased him until he was pushing into her, deep into her over and over until he was losing his breath and starting to see stars and coming so very hard.

Shelby coughed and panted, catching her breath, her legs giving out under her as she laid flat on the bed. He landed on top of her. "Aren't you... shit... aren't you glad I asked?"

He couldn't think. He could hardly breathe. "Damn, woman. Really, what are you doing for the rest of your life?"

"Future," she said, her eyes closed, rib cage expanding with her deep breaths.

"Right." He rolled his eyes at the reminder that he could know no more about her than he already knew. "Got it. But I think there's chocolate cake in our immediate future. What do you think?"

It pleased him to see a tired smile crawl the half of her face he could see. She liked chocolate cake.