Love on the Edge of Time

by Julie A. Richman

  The last point in his rant struck a chord. “You’re right, Bong. And you know me better than anyone. I couldn’t love. I couldn’t. Because loving is dangerous. You lose control when you love and the only way to avoid danger is through control. And I’ve got a cherry to add on top of that, I didn’t think I had the capacity to love. I didn’t think I was capable of caring. Not beyond going through the motions. Showing up with flowers or whatever shit you’re supposed to do that shows you care.”

  “So, what are you saying? That now you can love and care. You’ve fixed yourself over the course of several months to become a normal, caring human being.”

  While he understood exactly where his friend’s anger was coming from and that earning trust back might not be as easy as he thought, he was certainly not going to let his hard work be belittled. “It’s a process and I’ve made huge strides, strides that yes, I am proud of. I’m clean and sober and that was and is no easy task. I did it on my own because it is my responsibility and I am my responsibility. I also knew from being in rehab that it was really all about me and my commitment. And so, I committed. And I haven’t looked back. I’m meditating. I’m working out. I’m seeing my therapist regularly and working hard on getting to the root of things. We’ve uncovered a shitload of stuff that has added to my fucked-up-ness.”

  “Jesse, you take fucked-up-ness to another level.”

  “I know, Bong. One of the things I found out in therapy was that I watched my dad’s bass player shoot up, OD and die when I was a little kid. I didn’t remember any of this shit. I was down in our basement spying on them, I wasn’t supposed to be down there. When the whole thing went down and my father found me, he yelled at me and threw me against a wall. I thought the whole thing was my fault somehow and then totally repressed the memory. And I’ve spent my life subconsciously thinking I was responsible for killing this man. This man who used to always have a Tootsie Roll in his pocket for me. I was three years old. I was Cecelia’s age, Casey.” Choked up, Jesse grabbed for his water again.

  Bongo wasn’t able to speak for a moment. “Were you able to corroborate if this really happened?”

  “Yeah. I approached my mom about it and my memory of that day was spot on. But back then nobody was thinking stuff like maybe the kid should go see a shrink, this could seriously fuck him up. And since it was a drug death, if they had brought me to someone, Child Protective Services would have been all over it and maybe taken me from my family. So, we never talked about it. Ever.”

  Being able to visualize his young daughter going through a harrowing experience and not having his and his wife’s support, was something Casey couldn’t even imagine. It made it easier to understand why his friend had such a wide self-destructive streak.

  “My mom feels really bad.” He stopped talking when the waitress appeared tableside to take their order. “I’ll have the Impossible Burger.”

  “Great choice,” she smiled at him as if she were the entire dessert menu and dessert was being served in the bathroom.

  It didn’t go unnoticed. “She your next course?”

  Jesse laughed. “Nope. I am not on the market.”

  “Did you get back with Claud?”

  “Bite your tongue. Claudine not being in my life is part of my recovery. Ridding myself of toxic energy. Best thing I’ve done beyond getting clean.”

  “So, you’re celibate?” Casey’s face was a cross between amused and astonished.

  Jesse sat back in the comfortable wing-backed chair. “Celibate,” he pondered the word. “Well, emotionally no. Physically, we need to change that.”

  “What do you mean emotionally no?”

  “There’s someone in my life who is beyond amazing.” Jesse smiled. “I’m out here and I miss her. I wish I’d brought her with me. It gets harder and harder for me when we are apart. You know how it is, when you just wanna be with someone.”

  “Are you talking about that fat girl with the red hair that the paparazzi caught you with?”

  The waitress delivered the burgers hoping for a moment of flirtation with the rock star, but he and his lunch partner were locked in a death stare that needed their strongest chef’s knife to cut apart. Even she picked up on the vibe and left as soon as she’d laid down the plates.

  “That fat girl,” Jesse repeated in a scoffing tone, shaking his head. “Her name is Kylie.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Dead serious.”

  “You could have any woman in the world, Jesse. You were living with a supermodel, for God’s sake.”

  “You ever think,” Jesse began, “that the Venus de Milo is much more beautiful than any sculpture of today’s skinny women would be? I’ve been with today’s definition of beauty and Kylie is far more gorgeous, feminine, and womanly than Claudine could ever hope to be.”

  “I never would have taken you for a chubby chaser,” Casey taunted.

  With a sigh, knowing that Bongo was trying to get him to rise to the anger bait, Jesse’s newfound control and resolve kicked in. Old habits were not necessarily good ones. Standing and reaching into his jeans pocket, Jesse threw a crumpled fifty-dollar bill on the table. “If you ever want to play on a stage with me again, you will never disrespect the woman I love.”

  Turning, he walked from the restaurant knowing two things. Bongo needed him a lot more than he needed Bongo, and that he could love. He could care. He could feel. He would fiercely protect what was his. Because what he’d discovered on this trip to L.A. was that he was in love with Kylie Martin.

  Jesse Winslow was in love.

  And whether or not he had his old band by his side was yet to be seen. But one thing he did know for sure, moving forward, he wanted to do it with Kylie not just by his side, but also in his arms. And he was going to make that happen. This was one redhead he would not epically fail.

  ••••••

  This time he didn’t text. He just called, waking her at two-fifteen a.m.

  “Bare-ly dressed again tonight?”

  Her laugh, filled with sleep was gruff. “Barely dressed every night.”

  “What exactly do you have on?”

  “A pink tank top and pink silk bikini.”

  “Take them off,” he ordered.

  “Excuse me,” there was an element of surprise in Kylie’s voice.

  “You heard me. Take them off. Now.” Just hearing rustling on the other end of the line, he could feel his cock stiffen and it felt damn good after all this time. Baby, I’m back, he thought.

  “We’re having phone sex? But, Jesse, we haven’t even kissed yet,” her protest was weak. And even she knew it.

  “Yes, we’re having phone sex, and when I get back to New York, we’re going to do a lot more than kiss. You’ve friend-zoned me, Toots, and I’m busting out.”

  Kylie was smiling on her end of the phone. Friend-zoned Jesse Fucking Winslow? Was he serious? “Nobody puts Jesse in a friend-zone,” she couldn’t help herself.

  “Are they off?” He totally ignored her joke.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “What was that?” he asked, his voice gruff and serious.

  “Yes, they’re off.”

  “Okay, spread your legs, and with your phone, take a picture of your pussy for me.”

  “Seriously?” She knew she was blushing in the dark.

  “Take the picture, Kylie.”

  “Okay, but if you sell this to the paparazzi, I will kill you.” There was a rustling sound, then, “Oh, my God, I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  He laughed.

  “Okay, here it comes. I hope it’s photogenic. It would be really embarrassing to have a non-photogenic pussy.”

  Pulling the phone from his ear to look, Kylie could hear his moan, exciting her even more.

  “So photogenic, Toots, just like the rest of you. And I love the red landing strip. It’s so hot. Oh, man, I love this. Spread your legs wider and use one hand to spread your lips open for me and send me another.”

&nb
sp; Following his directions, she did as he requested.

  Moaning in her ear, “I need to be inside you. Touch yourself for me.”

  “I am,” she admitted, “and I’m really, really wet. Here, I’m going to put the phone down there so you can hear it.” She put the phone between her legs for a few moments, knowing it would kill him. “Could you hear how wet I am?”

  “Yeah, and now I want to hear your other sounds. Keep stroking your pussy. Oh God, I can’t wait to be buried in you. I want to pull you down on my cock and have you ride me. Ram you down onto me so that I’m deep inside you.” As he talked, her sounds escalated. “That’s right, baby. Give yourself to me. I want you so badly. I wake up thinking about you. I go to sleep thinking about you, and right now I’m throbbing in my hand fantasizing about that gorgeous pussy I can’t wait to claim. It’s going to be my pussy, Kylie. And you’re going to give me my pussy. Give me my pussy,” he growled and could hear her go from panting to whimpering in a split second. “Yeah, that’s my girl. That’s what I want you to do when I’m buried deep inside you, baby. Come just like that. Just like that. Oh, God.” His own moan was out of his mouth, his hand covered in semen he desperately wanted to share with this woman.

  “Kylie?” His voice was soft and if she’d been able to see him in that moment, she would have seen a peace in his smile that made him even more handsome.

  “Yeah?”

  “You okay?”

  “I’m great.” She stretched in her bed, a satisfied smile on her face as if he were really there.

  “That was great.”

  “Yeah, it was,” she admitted. “Hey, Jess, can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot, Toots.”

  “How long have you wanted to do that?”

  “Probably since I saw you trying to do yourself in Dr. S.’s waiting room.”

  “Oh, my God, you knew? I can’t believe you knew,” her voice rose an octave. “Oh shit, I am so embarrassed.” Kylie pulled her blanket over her head, hiding, even though she was alone in her bedroom.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, Toots. Walking into a doctor’s office and seeing a gorgeous redhead whose face is on the edge of an orgasm is like winning the lottery. And with you, I definitely hit the jackpot.”

  ••••••

  Heading straight to her apartment from the airport, without even stopping at home to drop off his bags, Jesse could not wait to feel her body pressed up against his, responding to him. After their late-night phone tryst, his craving to see her, feel her, play with her silky hair, and enjoy the laughter in those gorgeous green eyes became almost painful. He had to get back to New York, needed to get home to her.

  After another day of meetings with the band, the decision was not to break up Winslow, but to remain on hiatus. Jesse wanted to continue down the path he’d started on several months before, continue to write, and maybe do some small shows, either solo acoustic or with a few local New York session musicians.

  This gave the other band members of Winslow the opportunity to pursue other artistic ventures and the road crew to join onto other tours, without keeping everyone in limbo. For Jesse, he lightened his burden of having to worry about taking care of others when he knew his stress didn’t need to extend out that far, at least not yet, not while he was learning to take care of himself.

  One thing at a time. And right now, at the top of his priority list was this amazing redhead who, like a ninja warrior in a black cat suit, had infiltrated his heart with such stealth precision, that the hijacking had long been completed by the time he even became aware of it.

  “Toots,” it was out of his mouth the minute she opened the door. Dropping his luggage, just inches into her apartment, he took her face in both hands, drawing her lips to his for their first real kiss. It was harsh and loving, consuming and cleansing, leaving no need for foreplay, as their mouths took them beyond any exquisite sensations they were yet to explore.

  They’d made it as far as a wall before Jesse grabbed Kylie’s legs and wrapped them around his waist. “Bedroom,” he whispered.

  Nodding her head to the hall on the left, she knew this was going to happen quickly. All the slow discovery would happen later. “Do you have condoms?”

  “Prepared,” he smiled, dropping her on the bed and pulling her into a seated position on the edge. With his hands back on either side of her face, he splayed his fingers through her hair, lowering his head for another savage kiss that left her moaning. Holding her head tightly to his lips, Kylie’s body began to thrash. Needing him inside her immediately.

  “Jesse, I need you,” she managed between gasps for air.

  “Then stand up and get undressed for me.”

  Although she wanted to rip her clothes off, she knew giving him a slow, torturous pageant-girl strip would be much more effective and memorable. And after all, this was Jesse Fucking Winslow she needed to impress.

  With subtly exaggerated motions, the former Miss New Jersey began a striptease that was about to destroy rock ’n’ roll’s famous bad boy. The initial look, as she stood before him, was of shy sweetness and he moaned just gazing into her feline-like green eyes as she unbuttoned her silk blouse, slowly.

  By the time the garment hung open, revealing a delicate, pale pink lace bra, her face had taken on a vixen-like confidence and she took a step closer to him, her eyes briefly traveling to her left shoulder and then her right, before landing back on Jesse’s face. He read that movement as her invitation for him to slide the fine fabric from her shoulders, and with a mere flick of his thumbs, the blouse skimmed her long legs before coming to its final resting place, puddled seductively around her ankles.

  Grabbing her long hair, she ran her fingers through the silky locks, bunching it and pulling it to the side over her right shoulder, as she stood before her soon-to-be-lover in matching silk and lace bra and bikini underwear.

  His face could not hide his delight as she stood before him, possibly the most feminine being he’d ever seen. Her curves were soft, her skin creamy. Reaching out, he slowly ran his hand down her side, from her ribcage to her waist, down her hips and around until his hand settled on her rounded ass. It was her body visibly stiffening, more than the slight intake of air, that made Jesse aware of her self-consciousness in that moment and he locked in on her eyes.

  “Toots, you are exquisite.” And he wasn’t kidding, thinking the master painters would have killed their competition to have her stand before their easel. Not letting his eye contact waiver, he put a stop to any self-doubting comment she could make by claiming her mouth with the first soft kiss of the evening. He finished with his lips trailing to her ear, where he whispered, “Exquisite,” as he tenderly kneaded her ass. Then, reaching behind his neck, he removed his tee-shirt in one stroke of his arm, leaving them chest-to-chest.

  “Has it been awhile?” he asked, wondering if maybe she hadn’t been with anyone since her Miss America days.

  “Yeah,” she nodded.

  Confirming his belief, Jesse smiled, “Good. I’m glad.”

  “How about you?”

  He laughed, “Believe it or not, it’s been quite a while for me, too.” With a hand going back to her cheek, “And I love that this is with you.”

  “Me too.”

  “You mean everything to me, Toots.” He knew he couldn’t yet tell her how he felt, not wanting it to sound like a heat-of-the-moment line versus the revelation he had come to in California. “You really do.”

  “Jesse.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Shut up.”

  Laughing, because that was exactly why he fell in love with her, he reached around to her back and expertly unclasped her bra, which she eased out of with just a shrug, finally leaving them skin to skin.

  “Now I’ve got something to shut me up.” He pulled her back over to the bed, gently pushing her onto her back so that her nipples were ready to occupy his mouth while he slid her panties down, eagerly awaiting to see just how wet he had gotten her. She didn’t
disappoint.

  Running her fingers through his hair, Kylie coaxed his head from her breast. “I think we should save foreplay for dessert.”

  Quickly unzipping his jeans, his erection gladly sprang free, as he grabbed the condom out of the pocket before tossing his pants to the floor.

  As he went to rip open the packet, Kylie stopped him, “Wait, not yet.” She smiled at his surprised look. “I have to know what you feel like, taste like, first.” And reaching forward, she took him in her hands gently stroking and exploring, lowering her lips she explored the crown with soft swipes of her tongue before taking his shaft as far as she could in her mouth.

  “Okay, you can put it on now.”

  Ruffling her hair, “You feel well acquainted now?” He grabbed the packet again and rolled the condom over his all-too-famous cock. “C’mere, you.” Pulling her on top, he held her by the hips, gently lowering her until he was buried deep within her warmth.

  “Jesse.” Kylie’s eyes were shining bright, and instead of riding him, she leaned forward to lay her head on his chest, allowing her legs to stretch out behind her so that the length of them touched while he remained inside her.

  Feeling wetness on his chest, he suspected they were tears, causing his eyes to get a little misty. With arms wrapped around her tightly, he drove deeper into her from this most intimate position, with every inch of them connected. And it was right. It felt right. Their entire bodies were touching.

  Soon she began to squeeze him when he thrust into her. With one arm tight across her back and the other hand cupping her ass and pressing her into his thrusts, he couldn’t get in as deep as he wanted, although he was physically as far as he could be. He needed to claim more of her, this wasn’t enough.

  Kylie pulled his lips to hers right before she began coming, her sounds pressing into his mouth, eliciting a moan from him right before he unleashed. His final thought was how right this all was.

  Later, as they lie together, her head on his chest, their feet tangled, and a lock of her hair between his fingers, she looked up at him and asked, “Still think you scored the jackpot?”

  “Toots. I would define this as hitting Powerball.”