Chapter Five

Richie’s statement was still echoing in his mind when they took the stage that night. The show went off without any problems. A few times he caught himself searching the front few rows, seeking out Mac. When his eyes finally found her, he tried to keep from looking in her direction, but eventually admitted to himself that it was a losing battle.
They were celebrating another great show in the hotel bar, when she joined them. He watched Richie move his chair to allow her to pull up one of her own at their table, between him and Richie.

He smiled at her. "Did you enjoy the show, Ms. Donaldson?"

"Yes, thank you."

"And, did you get some material for your article?"

She nodded in answer, then turned to Richie. "I was hoping to talk to you for the article. Tico and David have already sat down with me for their interviews." She turned to the other two men, "Thank you both, by the way."

Tico and David raised their beer bottles and tilted them towards her in silent salute.

"How ‘bout we talk on the plane tomorrow morning," Richie suggested. "Tonight we’re celebrating, and I’d hate to talk to you with a tongue loosened with alcohol."

She laughed with him, "Aw, damn, I bet I could get some great stuff out of you then."
"Exactly my point," Richie laughed.

Jon watched them laughing together and felt a stab of jealousy. He kept trying to tell himself it was just Richie, but it wasn’t working. He excused himself before he did something stupid, and left to go hunt.

"He got out of here before I could hit him up for an interview time," she said, frowning.

"Don’t mind Jon," Richie told her. He knew where Jon had went, and covered for him as usual. "He’s really tired tonight. He had just told us before you came in that he was gonna turn in early."

David looked at Tico with a question in his eyes, but Tico only shrugged in answer.

They were interrupted when the waitress walked up to the table. "Would you guys like me to take some of these?" she asked motioning to the empty bottles.

"Please," David answered.

"And bring some more," Tico added.

"Here," Mac said, reaching for Jon’s forgotten bottle, intending to hand it to the waitress. She froze, with her hand on the bottle, as pictures began flashing across her closed eyelids, slowly building in momentum until it was like watching a movie. She saw Jon following a woman. Then after a flash of light, Jon pushing the woman against a wall. The two of them in a heated embrace, Jon began to kiss a trail down the woman’s neck even as she threw back her head in wild abandon. She watched, unable to stop the movie, as Jon began to suck on the woman’s neck.

"Mac, are you okay?" Richie’s concerned voice asked, even as he laid one hand on her shoulder.
The movie stopped, and Mac realized she had slumped back in her chair, with Jon’s beer bottle still in her hand. "I’m fine," she replied, shakily. Finally, reaching to hand the bottle to the waitress.

"Are you sure?" the waitress asked. "Can I get you something?"

"No, really. I’m fine. I’m just a little tired. I guess I should go on up to my room." Mac tried to make excuses, excuses she had made many times in the past. Her visions always shook her up a little, but this one had been very intense. It wasn’t like she could tell them what really happened. They would think her completely insane. The only person who hadn’t thought her crazy, once she’d told them her secret, was Sandy. Daniel had left her and suggested she get help. She started to rise from her chair, wobbling a little.

Richie steadied her. "I’ll walk you up to your room," and when she started to argue, "no arguments." He turned to David and Tico, "I’ll be back in a few minutes. You two try to stay outta trouble ‘til I get back."


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Alone with Richie in the elevator, Mac tried to regain control of her senses. The vision had been way more intense than any she had ever had. She had actually felt the emotions of the woman in the vision, or had they been Jon’s. She wasn’t sure, but the absolute ecstasy had almost overwhelmed her.

Warily, Richie watched Mac. He was sure there was something she wasn’t telling him, but he guessed everyone was entitled to their secrets. Still, he kept an eye on her, hoping she wouldn’t collapse before they got to her room. When the doors slid open at their floor, Richie put his arm around her small shoulders, noticing that she leaned heavily on him all the way to her door. Once the door was open, she stepped inside quickly.

"Thanks, Richie."

"No problem," he looked at her for a long second. "Are you sure you’re going to be all right?"

"I’ll be fine," she smiled at him as she moved to close the door, adding cryptically as she closed the door, "they never last long."

Richie wondered about that strange remark all the way back down the hall and while he waited on the elevator. What never lasted long?

The doors slid open and Richie glanced up. Jon stood waiting to exit the elevator.

"Hey man," Jon said in greeting.

"Hey," Richie answered.

"Something wrong?"

"Just trying to figure out a puzzle."

Jon stepped off the elevator and headed down the hall towards his room, knowing Richie would fall into step beside him. "What kind of puzzle?"

Richie quickly explained what had happened after Jon had left the bar. They had just reached Jon’s door, when Richie finished the tale. In the blink of an eye, Richie found himself slammed against the wall, with Jon’s hand fisted in his shirt.

"And you just left her alone?" Jon asked between clenched teeth.

"I didn’t have much choice," Richie grinned at his furious friend. "Had I went in her room with her, you would’ve ripped out my throat and sucked me dry."

"Will you quit with that shit? You know I’d never..."

"Oh? But you’ve threatened several times."

Jon released Richie’s shirt. "Fuck you, Sambora."

"You keep asking and I keep having to tell ya no," Richie responded as he turned and headed back down the hall, throwing over his shoulder, "but I bet the little reporter would take you up on the offer."

Glaring at his friend’s retreating back, Jon moved across the hall to knock on Mac’s door.
He heard her voice from the other side as she opened the door, "Richie, really I’ll be fine," her eyes opened wide on the last word, when she saw Jon standing there instead of who she expected.

Jon pushed past her, then turned when she closed the door. "Are you sure?" He reached to touch her forehead, checking for a fever.

She pulled away from his touch. "I’m sure." Mac turned away from him and started to walk away, but he grabbed her arm and spun her back around to face him.

"How can you be so sure? Have you had these spells, or whatever you wanna call ‘em, like this before?" he asked, almost nose to nose with her.

"Yeah," she answered, looking down, "and I’ll be fine. As a matter of fact, I’m already feeling better. But I’d be perfect if you’d let go of me," she told him, looking pointedly at his hand on her arm.

He pulled her closer to him. "You didn’t seem to mind last night."

She gasped right before his lips touched hers. His tongue stroked her lips and she opened her mouth for him. Her fingers threaded through his golden hair, even as his tongue tangled with hers.

Jon slid his hands around her waist, and felt her shiver when his fingers found the warm skin under her T-shirt. He pulled her lower body tighter against his, and was rewarded by her soft moan. Kissing a path across her cheek and down her neck, he felt his fangs lengthen.
Mac felt his teeth graze the skin of her neck and shivered again. His touch was magical, taking her away, making her feel...wanted. Yes, wanted. How long had it been since she felt this way? Too long.

"Tell me you want me." His voice was husky and whisper soft against the skin of her neck. "Tell me you need me."

"Why?" she asked, her breath coming in quick pants.

Jon pulled back and looked down into her forest green eyes. "What do you mean, why?" His voice was still husky, as he tried to hide his fangs as he spoke to her.

"Why do you want me to say it? So you can laugh and walk away?"

He frowned down at her, puzzled, but he could see the honesty of her question in her eyes. Someone had hurt this woman terribly, and made her doubt her own sexuality. He caressed her cheek gently, then threaded his fingers through her hair. "No, I would never do that. I just need to hear you say that you want this. Want me. Because, I want you more than I can say."

"Really? Why?" She was so unsure of him, of herself.

"Don’t you realize how beautiful you are?"

She opened her mouth to argue with him, but he interrupted her. "Don’t argue with me. I know what I like."

Grinning at him, she asked, "You do? And what would that be?"

He combed her hair with his fingers. "Long honey colored hair, and beautiful green eyes."

She blushed. Mac had never really been complimented much, except from her parents. And Sandy. Sandy always told her how pretty she was. Sandy said things like, "I hate you, because you look good whether you wear make-up or not." Or, "I wish my hair was as thick and pretty as yours."

He kissed the bridge of her nose. "And freckles. God, how I love these freckles."

"Jon," she said hesitantly, "I thought you didn’t like me."

"I like you too damn much," he answered her. "I’ve been trying to push you away since the moment I saw you."

"Why?"

"Because as sweet as you smell," he paused, "you smell like trouble."

She made a quick decision. Hasty maybe, but she was tired of thinking. Here was the most sexy man she had ever met, telling her he wanted her. Her. She wasn’t going to question it any longer. "Jon," she almost whispered, "kiss me again, please."

He couldn’t resist her. Gently, his lips brushed hers again, and she opened her mouth, thrusting her tongue past his lips to rub erotically against his. Quickly, before she could run her tongue across his fangs, he pulled away to trail kisses down her neck. Running his hands up and down her back, he pulled her tighter against him. He resisted the strong urge to bite her, and ran one of his hands around to caress her breast. "Now. Tell me you need me," he whispered in her ear, his breath warm as it brushed across the delicate shell. Then he ran his tongue around the outside of her ear, before he pulled the lobe into his mouth and sucked on it gently.

"Oh yes," she gasped, "I need you, Jon."

"Thank God," he said, as he bent and lifted her in his arms.

She laughed softly. "Put me down."

"Not ‘til I get you to the bed," he murmured against her hair.

He strode across the room to lay her gently on the bed, but she sat up and met him halfway when he leaned over her. She remembered all to well what was under his shirt and pulled it off over his head. She smoothed her hands down his chest, unable to believe they were really here and about to make love.

Jon almost lost control, but he continued to fight the urge to bite her. He lifted the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, then began to kiss a path down her chest while undoing the clasp of her bra. He vaguely realized that her hands were at the waistband of his jeans working to undo the buttons.

His mouth was back on her neck, and she could feel his teeth graze her neck again, making her tingle. Briefly, the picture from her vision flashed across her mind, but she quickly banished it. Although, the feeling of absolute ecstasy remained behind.

Jon could hear her pulse, as his teeth once again slid over her jugular. Damn, he wanted to bite her. He knew it would increase not only his pleasure but hers as well, but then how could he explain the bite mark in the morning?

When they were skin to skin, Mac let out a moan. When he entered her, she let out his name on a gasp. Jon began to move inside her, even as he continued to fight the urge to bite her. She met each of his thrusts with wild abandon, and clutched his shoulders as she gasped his name over and over.

"Let go, Mac," he whispered against her ear, then moved to take one nipple in his mouth to suck on it gently, but once he realized he could feel her pulse, he released it.

"Oh my God, Jon," she cried as she splintered into a million pieces.

He couldn’t hold back any longer and felt his own release wash over him in waves. Biting the pillow beside her head to keep from biting her.

Mac woke the next morning before Jon. She found herself snuggled back against a warm male, with his arms around her and his breath warm and tickling her ear. Laying still, trying not to wake him, she thought about the night before. He had made love to her many times throughout the night, and she had enjoyed every minute of it. However, now she was faced with quite possibly the strangest morning after she had ever experienced. He was a famous musician, for crying out loud. How many women had woke up in his bed? She couldn’t bear it if he lumped her in with all the other groupies in his life.

The call of nature was getting louder, so she carefully slid out of his arms and headed toward the bathroom. She stopped and turned back to look at him. He lay on his side with the sheet laying across his naked hip. She blushed, remembering what lay beneath that sheet. His hair was almost covering his face, but he looked so much younger laying there. It must be a trick of the early morning light. In the bathroom, she realized they were supposed to be flying to Seattle that day, for a show the next night. A shower sounded nice before she had to gather all her things.

The sound of water running in the bathroom and the absence of the warm woman in his arms woke Jon from a sound sleep. He hadn’t slept like that in years! Closing his eyes, he put on the glamour and realized she may have seen him without it. Damn. Hopefully, she hadn’t read to much into it. After the night they had spent together, maybe she wouldn’t notice or care that he had looked almost 20 years younger when she woke next to him. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, he ran his fingers through his rumpled hair, then picked his jeans up out of the floor next to the bed. He jumped when the chorus of Areosmith’s Walk this Way blared out of his jeans pocket. Quickly, he fished his cell phone out and answered it.

"Jon, where the hell are you? I’ve looked all over for you," Richie’s voice was loud in his ear.

"You don’t wanna know where I am, Rich."

"Yes I do, we have to catch a plane in an hour."

"Aw shit, is it that late?"

"Where’s your head, Kidd? You’re usually the one rounding all of us up."

He heard the water shut off in the bathroom. At least she had time to take one. He was going to have to scramble to get ready to go to the airport. "Look Rich, I’ll meet you guys in the lobby in 45 minutes, it’s not like the plane will take off without us."

"See you then," Richie said as he hung up the phone.

Calmly, pulling on his jeans as he went, he walked to the closed door of the bathroom. "Mac," he called out to her, "it’s later than I thought. We have to hurry and meet the guys in 45 minutes in the lobby. I’m going to run to my room and get a shower and pack my stuff. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Okay?"

"Okay," she answered.

He really wanted to open the door and give her a long good morning kiss, but he could almost feel her awkwardness through the door. Jon really didn’t want to push her too far, and he wasn’t sure how they were going to handle what had happened, but they could talk about it later. They would have some private time on the plane. The guys would all be hung-over from last night and want to nap on the flight. He chuckled as he pulled his T-shirt over his head, knowing he was just going to take it back off the minute he got to his room across the hall.

Sticking his head out her door, he looked up and down the hall, before almost running across the hall to his own room. It wouldn’t help matters any if he ran into Richie in the hallway. Once the door closed behind him, he started stripping off his clothes as he went to the shower. He really wanted a cup of coffee, but he’d have to wait to get one until they were on the plane.

Across the hall, Mac was wishing for some caffeine too. Hurriedly, she dressed in faded jeans and a baggy Texas Longhorns sweatshirt, then called room service. She sent up a silent thank you when they promised her a Dr. Pepper in about 15 minutes, then began to pack her things. She was putting her damp hair up in a ponytail when the room service waiter knocked on the door.
Sipping her caffeine, she finished her packing with a few minutes to spare, so she double checked to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.

Jon stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. Quickly, he wiped the fog from the mirror so he could dry his hair and shave. He was in such a hurry to get everything done, it was after he had his jeans on and was back in the bathroom to brush his teeth that he saw the red slash on his chest. He was so shocked to see it that he just stood there staring at it for several minutes while his finger traced the mark. No more than an inch and a half long, it did indeed look just like a red bolt of lightening tattooed on his left pectoral muscle. His life-mate. She was his life-mate? He had known she was going to be trouble, but he’d had no idea the trouble was going to be this huge! Just what he needed, a nosy reporter for a life-mate. Well hell, there would be no way out of that interview now.