One Wild Night: Part One

I have one thing to say.

Please Earth, open up and swallow me whole. I have a herd of incontinent buffalo galloping through my brain, leaving unpleasant deposits on my tongue and since when did my teeth grow hair?

Slowly I squint around the room, taking in the mellow apple walls and the rather tacky painting of a sunflower, along with the cheap 1960’s furniture and groan. It all adds up to my being in a motel. I turn over, slowly, wincing as my brain does a bungee jump and splats on the side of my head, yelling ‘Whoopee!’ as it does.

There’s someone in the bed with me.

Now I know for a fact that it’s not Pippa. Pippa is my best friend and confidante and partner in crime, she came over with me for this 4 day whirlwind tour of LA and besides, the body in the bed with me is most definitely not female.

He stirs in his sleep and turns over. Oh my god, it’s Jon Bon fucking Jovi! I’m in bed with one of the hottest men in the whole goddamned universe and I don’t remember how I got here. I look at him, taking in the high sculptured cheekbones, the full lips and wickedly sexy eyes, all softened by sleep. His tousled blonde mane is the very definition of bedhead. I can see a hint of chest hair growing back, curly and soft and I stop myself from reaching out to touch it to see if he’s real and this isn’t just a dream that the powers that be have visited on me.

He huffs in his sleep and pushes against the quilt, pushing it downwards. Eeek! I look under the quilt at myself. Totally naked. I try to hang on to an edge of the quilt to cover myself as I watch his body slowly being uncovered. The taut muscles on his chest, the faint outline of a six pack on his stomach, the soft downy hair leading to his groin…HIS GROIN!! Oh my god! I’m about to see Jon Bon Jovi naked. And, judging by the clothing dotted around the room, not for the first time but it’ll be the first time I’ll be able to remember. I lie and watch him, overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of peace.

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All of my life I’ve been in a state of panic. Panic that my job wasn’t the right one, panic that the guy I was with wasn’t Mr Right but too scared to leave in case I was left on the proverbial shelf. At 30 your body clock hasn’t quite stopped but starts ticking loudly enough to let you know that the battery’s on the way out with no hope of a replacement. Like a molded plug on a kettle, you can’t change the fuse.
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I’m mesmerised as the blue material glides slowly over him, as if he knows I’m watching and is prolonging the show to tease me mercilessly. My breathing is getting shallower as my memory and body slowly begin to respond.

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I can remember how excited I was when I found out that I was the “Meet one of Bon Jovi” competition winner. I have never won a competition before in my life and only entered in on their website on a whim. You can imagine my shock when a couple of months later I get this email telling me, little old Jilly Lewis, that I was the winner and that my tickets would be posted soon for myself and a guest to come to LA/ Las Vegas depending on their schedule, to meet one of them for dinner and then to see them in concert.

Pippa was the first person I thought of as she’s been a fan almost as long as I have and the squeal on the other end of the phone told me she was just as excited as I was. She’s always been a Richie fan, a darksider, but me? It was always Jon for me. Every time. I cried when he married Dorothea in '89, kissed my posters and told myself it would be okay, he’d soon realise I was alive and come and get me. The fact that I was about 12 at the time didn’t really come into it. I’m not sure what it was about him that captivated me at such an early age, I mean puberty hadn’t even hit, though it was lurking around the corner like some nasty stalker, waiting until I was preoccupied with something else before striking in the most inopportune place and time. Pippa had been with me then as I sobbed in her arms. I was there for her when Richie married Heather. Likewise we were cheering for each other when both couples got divorced.

I don’t remember much of the flight over, just that Pip was as nervous and excited as I was as we sat, drinking Champagne, in the Business Class lounge waiting to board the plane and that we carried on drinking the whole way over the Atlantic.

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Looking around the motel room, I realise that maybe, just maybe, alcohol and I should part ways permanently.
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The hotel we were in was lovely, upmarket but not second mortgage expensive, but then what the hell did we care? We weren’t paying for it!

We sat in the cool reception waiting for Chrissie to show up to guide us around. The meet and greet dinner was scheduled for our second day but the band had sent along one of their PR people to take care of us for our first day. We spent the whole day traipsing around LA, window shopping in Rodeo Drive and marvelling at the huge houses in Beverly Hills. Our second day was spent on the beach in Venice before we were to be picked up and escorted to a private jet for the short trip to Vegas,

Vegas baby! What can I say ‘bout Vegas that hasn’t already been said? Nothing, so I shan’t.

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Jon stirs in his sleep, the quilt is going to completely expose him. I hold my breath as…he turns over, giving me a good view of his ass. Even so, it’s enough to get my juices flowing…

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‘I can’t believe I’m sitting opposite Jon Bon Jovi and he’s flirting with me.’

My brain went into automatic pilot as we chatted and flirted our way through starter, dinner, dessert and coffee. He had been welcoming and friendly as we were introduced at the start of the meal. He had brought Richie with him who had taken up all of Pip’s concentration, so I was really only left with Jon to talk to. Yeah like that was ever going to be a hard ship!

Pip was having the best time of her life, or so it seemed as she flirted and giggled all the way through the meal, whispering and occasionally holding hands with Richie, but then I wasn’t paying that much attention, I was flirting with Jon Bon Jovi! There was a strange chemistry between us, sexual..yes, but almost as if we had come home only to no home either one of us knew. We also found we had the ability to communicate without words. Usually when one of us was about to dare the other to do something not quite socially correct. Pippa had been replaced as my partner in crime, at least for that night.

His smooth, hint of whisky, voice rolled over me as he told me how he came to be an actor as well as a musician.

“Ya know music will always be my first love but sometimes you need something different. Like you’re not getting the stimulation you used to get so you try something else. That’s how it was. I did a bit part in Young Guns and loved it. I mean doing our videos has always been acting of a sorts so it was quite easy to make the transition into full time acting. Yeah, I took a coupla lessons. I mean who doesn’t when they’re starting off but I’m really proud of my achievements. But I decided that the pull that I get from music is more important to me and hopefully we’ll be around, as a band, for a long time.”

He was totally disarmingly refreshing and honest. Direct too, staring at me with that mega watt smile and those electric baby blues of his, his blonde mane framing his leonine face perfectly.

“I think the public will want you around for a few more years. I know I do.” the words slipped out without me realising.

“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” he replied, stroking my hand with his forefinger.

I remember that as this point we went on to a bar, I say we, I mean Jon and I as Pip and Richie ha disappeared off God knows where, and besides at that point I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the fact that I was with Jon going for a drink. I could feel something akin to love for him, something sudden and swift almost like I’d wrenched the arrow from Cupid and impaled myself upon it. I was wild and free, for the first time in years, and up for anything.

Many drinks later…

“Go on! Knock his hat off.” I whispered to Jon as we stood outside on the mezzanine balcony. A rather large man wearing a 10 gallon hat was outside on the ground level but if you bent down and put your arm through the iron bars you could just about reach…

Wham! The hat went flying, Jon stood up quickly and turned to face me, nonchalantly leaning on the railings. He had a shit eating grin on his face, his eyes sparkling. The score on the door was 3 hats to me but 8 to him. The man turned to look up just as Jon dared to look down. Their eyes met and we knew we were in trouble. He grabbed my hand, drinks flying and pulled through the bar, down the stairs and into the casino. I remember lots of laughter and smiles and promises of things to come.

“My god Jon, that was just so funny!” I said, as I managed to stop laughing, hanging onto his muscular arm for dear life.

I hadn’t had so much fun for ages. It was like playing knock down ginger, only using people instead of doors.

“You and me are dangerous together.” he laughed, “I Haven’t had so much fun in ages.” he said, mirroring my feelings, his wicked blue eyes glinting dangerously, his cheeks flushed

We made our way to the bar in the middle of the casino, he held onto my hand tightly as if to never let me go. My common sense, which at this point had been trying to get a foot in the door of reckless abandon, gave up and went away sulking.

More drinks followed.

What had happened next was a whirlwind of colours, the sounds of quarters chinking in and out of slot machines, bundles of cash being exchanged for plastic, large bundles of plastic being exchanged back for larger bundles of cash. Bright lights whirled around us as if we were the only couple in the world. Jon spent the evening with his arm around my shoulders, gently nuzzling my neck, at times kissing and stroking my hair. We were a sight to see: one tall with short blonde hair, one short with long blonde hair. Both unnaturally blonde, arms wrapped around each other, hungry for the other yet unwilling to give in, wanting the moment to be anticipated just a little longer.

My body felt liquid, as if my bones had melted every time he touched me.

The feeling inside was as fiery as my skin that burned with his touch. I knew I had the same effect on him, feeling it as he stood behind me, subtly at first then more pressing.

I groan as the memory of an alleyway filters into my brain, along with vague memories of being lifted into the air and impaled as well as getting down on my knees. God how could I? To have sex with someone I’ve just met and in an alleyway of all places, even if the memories are tinged with hot and heavy breathing and sweaty bodies molding together. I feel flushed as the memories of the pleasure rushes over me.

I remember he said he was in love with me and me saying it was mutual, but I’m not really sure at this point in time whether I dreamt that part….

A bright white light pierces my memory, with people throwing things at us as we ran off into the night, giggling like kids on a summer vacation.

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Jon opens his eyes and, blinking away sleep, turns over. I look at him, my face flushed with lust and memories. He reaches for me and I can feel my skin burst into flames. What he does to me… just the nearness of him and I can’t breath. He nuzzles into the smooth silky skin of my neck, murmuring as he does, in that sexy slow drawl of his, words like love and forever. It makes me smile, he’s echoing what I’m feeling. Maybe he’s feeling it too and not just saying it for effect. I’m ready for him, always ready for him. Defcon 3 - permanent state of alertness, or maybe that should be Defcum 3...

He penetrates me easily, a good fit. I gasp as does he at the rightness of it. He moves against me, his hair flopping into his face, he doesn’t care about anything but being inside me right now. We move in unison, the age old dance, our bodies bathed in sweat, our fluids combining, bodies mingling until we’re not sure what’s mine and what’s his. I can feel the sweetness brewing from deep inside me, that pleasure pain that sends me over the top. It’s getting harder to breath now. A cry rings out in the still morning air, I realise it’s me crying out his name. His head rears back as he feels me tighten and envelop him in my hot, wet flesh. He roars ferally as we both release at the same time.

He falls down atop me, utterly exhausted. I croon into his hair, whispering sweet nothings as my body slowly calms down and the room begins to come into focus once more. I am totally and deeply head over heels in love with this man. I have known him for less than 24 hours but I know deep inside we have known each other forever.

I am contemplating the meaning of soul mates when sunlight glints. I look closer at his left hand. A wedding ring! Why didn’t I notice that last night?

Common sense makes a comeback, rather sheepishly and notes that I couldn’t remember my name last night let alone to check for wedding rings.

I put my hands over my face to hide my shame and feel something cool and alien. I look down at the little band of gold nestled snug on the thirs finger of my left hand and stare stupidly at it.

“Morning wife.” Jon says, smiling at me, awake in every sense of the word

“Morning h..husband.” I stammer, my whole being not quite able to take in the fact that I am apparently Mrs Jilly Bongiovi. What the fuck? When? How? Why? Take that last one back - stupid question.

He reaches for me again, my skin hot under his touch. I give in to him at once, no thought of pulling back. As he murmurs silly things in my ear, such as how many children we’ll have and the big party we’ll have to give to celebrate this wedding, all I can think of is

‘What am I going to tell my boyfriend?’