by Felicia Lynn
I’m doing really well considering I’ve been out of the gym for several days. Peter throws a few kicks and punches to me and I block the kick but take a punch to the stomach knocking the wind out of me. “No more cockiness Whit. Pay attention” He yells without checking to make sure I’m ok.
Jon is in the ring in seconds and kneeling in front of me as I’m hunched over trying to gain my breath. “Whit… Look me in the eyes baby… You ok? Breathe…”
I finally will the air into my lungs and even though I can’t speak yet, I’m breathing. Shit… I hate it when that happens. I take a minute and then tell them I’m fine and ready again and Jon is off his feet in seconds.
“Hell. To. The. Fuck. No...” he says looking me in the eyes then looking at Peter with more rage than I’ve ever seen in one person. He’s across the ring in two short steps and is looking down at Peter with a glare that cannot be confused as anything other than hatred.
“You little piece of shit, that was so fucking dirty. I don’t know what you were trying to prove there but if you ever lay a finger on my fucking girlfriend again, I’ll fucking kill you. Do you understand me?” Jon is defending me unnecessarily and I try to talk him off the ledge.
“Babe… I’m ok. This is what we do. Relax.” He turns to glare at me.
“Whit, This is what you fucking do? This is nuts. You pay this guy to beat you up? We’re fucking done here.”
The anger that was aimed at Peter is now on me and I don’t take lightly this type of rage or misplaced anger. I don’t know what his deal is but I’ve never needed anyone to defend me and I don’t need it now.
“Sooo… Peter… I guess we’re done here for today. Thanks for the workout.” I say over my shoulder as I grab Jon’s arm and drag him out of the ring and then march over to my gear lockers and throw my stuff in it.
I let go of him and head toward the front door. He’s following me with heavy feet. I know he has a lot to say and at this point, I really hope he keeps his mouth shut. I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself if he attempts to make any of that right.
I make it to my car, get in and slam the door, starting the car and turn up the music. I can’t talk yet. I’m in no mood to be cheerful and happy. I’m not sure what just happened but that was rough.
I’m really trying to understand why he jumped in. I told him I was okay and he didn’t trust my judgment. That’s a big red flag. If this is ever going to work, I need him to trust me.
He gets in the car and is just as pissed as I am but he’s not saying a word. Thankfully the drive to my place isn’t long because the tension in this car is suffocating me. Clearly it’s affecting him too because he’s wringing his hands and the scowl on his face is pure displeasure.
When we pull into my driveway, I get out of the car without saying a word and head toward my front door not really sure if he plans to follow me yet. I unlock the door and walk in leaving the front door open. I’m not even sure what to do at this point.
Things were so great then he had the dumb meeting and spilled the beans about his dark past, I was ok with it even though it made me a little nervous. I was willing to look past in until he went all Hulk crazy in the gym.
I walk into the kitchen, open the fridge, looking aimlessly around for something to eat but I can’t even think about food right now. I’m pissed that the night I had planned is ruined. I’m pissed that the last night of our little staycation went to hell in a hand-basket so quickly.
“Ugh...” I gruff as I fold myself over on the counter in defeat, I’m so incredibly disappointed.
And then I feel him behind me. He wraps his arms around me and I immediately want to turn into him and make up. I want things to be okay again. I need them to be happy.
Jon
For starters, I know she’s upset and clearly she’s pissed at me but I don’t know why or what went wrong. That whole situation was completely fucked up. Call me crazy but some man just hit the girl that means the world to me directly in the stomach knocking the wind out of her, and she was seconds from passing out from lack of oxygen.
That wasn’t ok and I can’t placate her and pretend it was. She’s tough, I’ll give her that, but that guy who calls himself an instructor was out of fucking line. He was spinning her up trying to distract her and he attacked the first chance she was the slightest bit off the beat.
He never gave her a chance and even after he intentionally knocked the air from her body he was still running his mouth. I’ve never in my life felt that much anger. He might be a black belt in martial arts but that won’t stop me from kicking his ass.
I walk up behind her hoping that I can somehow get her to see that I was only trying to help. I need her to understand that what happened from my perspective was bad. No man should ever treat a woman that way and certainly not a coach who is training you to take care and protect yourself.
“Babe… That didn’t go well. I’m sorry you’re upset. Can we talk?” I ask wanting her to understand and give me the chance to explain.
“Jon, I was working out. I had it under control. But the first time I got a little hurt, you jumped in. You didn’t trust my judgment to handle it.”
Handle it? She couldn’t breathe. How long should I have waited while that asshole beat up the girl I care most about?
“Whitney, you were turning blue, babe. How long did you want me to stand aside? What would you have done if I were hurting and you had to stand aside and watch?”
She turns around and I see the frustration in her eyes. She getting emotional and I really don’t think I can handle seeing her cry.
“I have watched you suffer Jon… For days. And you wouldn’t take pain meds and I didn’t know why until today. I’ve been here wondering what I could do to help but kept quiet trusting your judgment.”
Well… that was a hum dinger. She has asked several times and I’ve continuously rejected without explanation. NOTED. But on the other hand when I’ve been sore or having a hard time, she’s found lots of ways to distract me from that pain.
“Yes, You are half right. You’ve questioned my need for meds and I have rejected them without explanation but babe… When you knew I was in pain, you found other ways to comfort me; and although unorthodox… you didn’t sit aside and let me suffer… if I remember that first shower correctly?!”
Her eyes shimmer a little and I see for the first time in this last hour a glimmer of hope that things will be ok.
“ Can we please start over and let me explain why I felt the need to do what I did?”
She nods acceptance of my view of the situation so I don’t hesitate another minute before explaining my need to protect her.
“So there’s this girl that I have been aching to have in my life for almost a year. She has run every time I’ve gotten close. But this girl is magical. She has the ability to make me see stars when she enters a room and I can’t help smiling in her presence.”
She’s listening attentively and it makes me happy that she hasn’t moved from my embrace.
“So this girl finally after I had almost completely given up all hope of having her in my life, opens this little door for me and that small opening somehow becomes a dream for me. I wasn’t sure what to expect but I fell for her. I fell hard and she shockingly enough kinda liked me too, I think...”
I wink at her and that gets a little giggle out of her.
“So, after days of being in her presence and having quality time getting to know and accepting each other, including some not so great parts, my heart was just so happy.”
She squeezes my hand and I know that she’s really trying to relate.
“Then one afternoon while watching her enjoy one of her favorite hobbies, some guy hurts my girl… right in front of me and I feel a need, a guy need, to protect her. It’s not that I didn’t think she was capable of handling it herself, it’s that she’s so important to me that seeing her hurt ripped me apart.”
And it did, seeing her bent over in pain and not bei
ng able to catch her breath affected me in a way I won’t be able to ever just look over.
“Babe… I couldn’t stand aside and ignore the fact that you were hurt or that the asshole that hurt you did it on purpose and wasn’t sorry. What kind of man would that make me if I did?”
She’s not answering my questions but I see the wheels turning and know that she’s processing what I’m saying so I continue feeling the need to drive my point home and hopes that she stays away from that place.
“Sweetheart the best I could do in that situation was not kill that little fucker. He hurt the person I care most about, in front of me, and lived to tell the story. I did that for you. Not him. That’s how you know that I trust your judgment. You trust me not to make huge mistakes that would change the course of our future together. I did that for you because you trust me. You have good judgment.”
She looks a little shocked still but I know she’s hearing what I’m saying.
“Besides, I think we have to be married to get conjugal visits and prison sex would suck.”
She smiles and reaches up wrapping her arms gently still around my neck for a hug. Shit, did we just make it though our first argument as a couple without her running for the hills?
“Jon, I’m sorry. You’re right on so many of your points and that is a very sweet story and you are an extremely patient man.”
She kisses me softly and it takes little effort for me to deepen that kiss so she knows my intentions. I’m quite ready for this to turn into more. Arguing with the girl I love is hard. I need to sink myself into her and know that she’s still here and that we’re okay.
She takes my hand and leads me up the stairs to the room. I know that this is our last night together for this little adventure before we return back to real life, but I feel happy and content knowing it most definitely will not be our last night together.
Whitney
The past weeks have gone by in a blur. Although Alexis beaming with joy over the fact that Jon and I are a real couple. It scares me at how easily this has worked. I never imagined that I’d have the ability to juggle my career, my friendships, my family and a relationship. I hate to say that I’m a pessimist and waiting for the moment of failure, the moment that it all falls apart, but sometimes I am and I have to remind myself constantly that it’s all okay.
I love spending time with Jon. I love the nights when I wake up to find him asleep next to me in bed. After I told him where the hide-a-key was in case he wanted to pop in in the middle of the night and surprise me with one of the perfect mind blowing orgasms that he seems to have mastered giving me; my key has now taken up permanent residency on Jon’s keychain, or so I’m told, he never did really ask.
He’s found the art in telling me what he’s going to do by telling me the little stories I’ve grown to love. That particular story is one I love probably the most. It started like this:
“Once upon a time there was this girl that owned my heart from the first time I saw her when she walked into the dressing room before a show. She wasn’t there to see me but boy did I see her. The entire world melted into the background around her.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to love me and she sure tried not to, but somehow by the grace of God, she changed her mind.
Now… sometimes when I lay in my bed in my boring undecorated condo and I’m missing her so badly that I need to sneak into her townhouse at night and give her surprise orgasms. The feel of her quivering in any of the multiple ways she likes for me to make her scream my name, makes me feel so happy and settled knowing she’ll quickly fall back to sleep in my arms, means the world to me… and in those moments it means a lot to her too.
So...My love, the hide-a-key, which certainly isn’t safe for any beautiful girl who lives alone anyway, has taken up permanent residency on my keychain. Please don’t object. I love surprise late night orgasms with the girl of my dreams.”
And that is how a boyfriend gains the rights to your house key without really ever asking. I mean, let’s be honest, who could argue with that story?
Jon’s little stories have quickly become something I quite look forward to and he really has a way of melting me with his words.
Surprisingly, having Jon sleep in my bed is quite nice and although he doesn’t sleep over every night. The nights he does are always a surprise and I enjoy it very much. Jon has become a constant in my life.
Even the nights that Jon isn’t in my bed, he’s still the last person I talk to at night and the first I hear from in the morning. His messages are something I love getting. Sometimes I get singing messages. My Jon has a voice that would make angels weep. I actually didn’t know that about him and apparently it’s not something he likes others to know. He says he’s only a guitar player, not a singer but I beg to differ.
Yesterday, Jon came to the office to have lunch with me and I invited Max to join us and for the first time, letting my two worlds merge. I loved being able to share that moment with both of them. Max has always been my go-to guy. He’s the person that has supported me through all my craziness and kicked my ass in gear every time I needed it but Max is only part of my work life. I think if he ever has time to take away from his job I will work harder to be a good friend to Max outside of our nine to five life as well.
Jon enjoyed chatting with Max, I believe. I wasn’t really sure how it would go given Jon’s overprotectiveness at times and Max’s sometimes-rude sexual comments but they both really got along.
I’ve found Jon gets along with almost anyone who isn’t hitting me, even if I ask for it. Jon doesn’t ask me for much with the exception of him keeping my hide-a-key and me not attending any more lessons at the gym with Peter. It was the one thing that was enough of an issue that it caused multiple disagreements and at the end of the day. It just wasn’t worth it. I could find multiple other ways to get my exercise in if it bothered him that much and truly all the sexcercise we’ve been having keeps me quite fit.
The one thing that still bothers me is Jon’s need to ride that damn bike. I’m terrified that something will happen to him. I really don’t understand why it’s ok for him to take unnecessary risk yet I cannot. This is not a conversation that I will give up on. I did briefly ponder the thought of withholding sex from him until he agreed to sell the bike, but at the end of the day, I knew that I would never, not give in to that man. He owns me in the bedroom… He owns me everywhere… Every part of me… I’m in love with Jon Cooper.
I’m ready for bed now and I’m crossing my fingers that tonight is a night that he surprises me, because last night I slept alone and although it used to not bother me to sleep alone or eat alone or frankly have sex alone, I’ve quickly decided all those things are better with Mr. Jon Cooper. I haven’t felt the need to masturbate once in the past month and I attribute that to my guy making me over-sexed.
I reach for my phone on my nightstand, as it has become our ritual, I type out a message. We rarely actually speak on the phone. I actually hate talking on the phone but will when I have to for work purposes or of course to Alexis who refused to text because I take to long to respond.
Me: Night, Hot Stuff. I’m missing you. Your arms are cozier than the extra pillows I need when you aren’t here.
Immediately I get a response and I’m thankful for his attention. I’ve missed him.
Jon: Ditto, sunshine. The past 2 days have been hell without you. I’ll try to make it to you tonight. I need you.
Hmmm… that’s really weird. He’s never prepared me or told me he’d be coming over. I feel like something could be wrong or maybe it’s just the game is getting old to him. I coach myself to try not to read into things too much. It’s hard to really understand any situation through text. I know he’s been busy with things getting ready for the tour and he’s been at the center a lot but still… my gut tells me something is off.
Jon
The past two days have been hell or at least the parts that have kept me away from my girl. I’ve been trying to clean s
hit up here without making waves with Whitney. I don’t want to worry her and when things like this are this close to home, it’ll make a damn tsunami and I need this reality to not slap her in the face.
On my way home from lunch yesterday I got a call from Dave and he needed me to meet him at the hospital right away and he tells me he’ll explain more when I arrive.
Well, first you need to know I fucking hate surprises. Unless it’s the kind that I’m sneaking into my girlfriends place to give her surprise orgasms, other that that, I’m not interested. And second, nothing that requires a meeting at the hospital is ever good and as much as I fought for him to give me answers over the phone his blatant refusal told me it was bad news.
The past few weeks I’ve been so wrapped up in my own little world with Whitney. It’s like I’ve waited so long for this to actually happen that I don’t want to miss anything with her. I feel like such a fucking little girl with the amount of time I spend trying to find reasons to text her or thinking of things I want to do with her or even better, to her.
When I got to the hospital, Dave was waiting for me in the reception area. He escorted me to a quiet corner where he told me that Kelly overdosed and they think it was intentional. When Dave went looking for her this morning after she missed the meeting and wouldn’t take his call, he knew something was off. He was hoping at the very least she was sick in bed and didn’t hear her phone or even just a bit worse that she relapsed again and was too embarrassed to admit it, but what he found was far worse. She was barely breathing with the needle still in her arm.
She’s in a coma and so far is unresponsive. They aren’t sure she’s going to make it because they don’t know how long she was in that condition. I never expected to feel the kind of guilt that is currently taking root in my soul, but I do. I knew she needed a friend, I was a friend or at least that’s what I told her; but as soon as I had the girl I wanted, I shut out the rest of the world and focused all my attentions on her with no acknowledgement.