FORTY-SIX

Cate felt her sexy smile fade.  "Jon?"  She moved toward the bed, her confident strut wilted.  "Baby?"

She gazed down at the prone figure on the mattress.  As he had announced, Jon had indeed managed to remove his pants.  The shiny gray trousers lay in a tangled heap next to the bed.  Apparently his effort had ended there, however.

Jon lay in an awkward spread-eagle on the rumpled duvet, his arms askew and his legs spread, one bent at the knee.  His white dress shirt gaped open to expose his silver-furred chest and belly.  Gray knit briefs still banded his hips, snugly containing a modest, receding bulge.  His eyes were closed, their sandy lashes forming twin fringed curves.  Jon's mouth gaped open, a shiny trickle of saliva at one corner.  Another low, rumbling snore emitted through the opening.

"Jonny?"  Cate repeated his name, her tone bewildered.  She knew Jon was drunk, but she hardly thought he was inebriated to the point of passing out.  Just minutes ago he had been practically mauling her as they stumbled through the apartment.  Automatically Cate's gaze dropped to Jon's crotch.  He was still semi-hard, proof that she wasn't imagining what had just happened.  But it was apparent his arousal had waned.

Cate rumbled a frustrated growl.  "Seriously?" she muttered, still half-disbelieving that her husband could do this to her.  Jon had spent the entire car ride home crooning into her ear graphic descriptions of all the carnal things he intended to do to her.  His sexy whiskeyed growl, coupled with his wicked tongue and roving hands, had quickly brought Cate to a similar anxious state.  She had practically dragged him out of the car and through the lobby in her haste to get him upstairs, alone, and naked.

And now here he was... asleep.  Half-naked and sexy, vulnerable and glorious.  And out cold.

"Goddammit!" Cate swore half under her breath.  How could he do this to her?  Jon would have a complete fucking meltdown if she ever worked him up like this then left him hanging.  She leaned down, bracing her hand on the mattress and lowering her torso to more closely evaluate her motionless spouse.

Maybe he wasn't really out cold.  Maybe he was just pretending, waiting for her to call his bluff.  Or maybe he was just resting his eyes, adjusting to his reclined position.  Perhaps closing his lids had stopped the room from spinning.  If that was the case, it was fine with her -- for all Cate cared Jon could keep his eyes closed while they made love.  Hell, he could just lay there and enjoy it while she did all the work.  It was his birthday, after all.

A naughty smirk turning her mouth, Cate lifted one foot and planted a knee on the mattress' edge.  She leaned forward, bracing her other hand on the other side of Jon's torso.  Her breasts swayed tantalizingly as she hovered over him.  "Oh, Joooonnnny..." 

Cate crawled fully onto the mattress, carefully placing a stockinged knee between Jon's parted thighs.  "Baby, wake up.  I got a birthday present for you...."  Cate leaned forward to drop her mouth close to Jon's ear.  "And I left my high heels on, just like you want..."

Jon grunted weakly in response to her sultry purr, then slowly turned his head to the side.  He snored raspily again.

"Baby, come on..." Cate coaxed in a sexy hum.  "I wanna make you feel good..."  She lowered her body onto Jon's, purring delightedly as her puckered nipples drilled against the hard curves of his pecs.  The warmth of his flesh against hers stoked her arousal even more. 

Propping herself up on one elbow, Cate slid her other hand down Jon's side.  He moaned and squirmed against her tickle, then half-snored again.

"Jonnnn-ny..."  Cate sing-songed softly into his ear as her hand slid sideways and cupped over his crotch.  She squeezed gently, confident she would get an immediate response from his manhood if not from his mouth.  "Oh, Baby... I want you so bad..."

Jon moaned again as Cate's gentle grip had its intended effect.  Her breathy plea tunneled through his foggy gray mind though the words were indecipherable to his well-pickled brain.

"There you go.... Well, hello, Superman....Uh huh...."  Cate continued her purr as her fingers moved rhythmically, gently kneading the knit-clad package in her grasp.  She smirked again as her tongue flickered out to trace the shell of his ear.

"Mmmmffff... Soppit!"  Jon cringed at the warm, wet invasion.  He shook his head weakly, then turned to shelter his ear from Cate's mouth.  He pawed his other hand at his crotch, trying to swat away the source of his sleep-distraction.

"But Baby...."

"Caaate..."  Jon half-grunted, half-moaned.  "Quiddit."  He swatted weakly again at Cate's hand and turned his head the opposite direction, pressing his whisper-tickled ear to the mattress.  "Leemee 'lone."

Cate raised her head, then sat up on her hip.  Her unwelcome hand moved to rest hesitantly on Jon's abdomen.  In the darkened room her expression turned from playful to bewildered.

"Jon... don't you want... want to make love?  You said all those naughty, sexy things... All the way home..."

"Wanna sleep."  His slurred grunt was barely intelligible against the mattress.

Cate's heart clenched with disappointment.  She stared down at his beautiful face, hardly able to believe what was happening.  Jon never turned down sex, not even when he was drunk.  Especially not when he was drunk.  His libido usually skyrocketed after a few glasses of wine.

Cate's fingers curled gently against Jon's belly, ruffling the soft fur above his navel.  She blinked against the sheen of moisture in her blue eyes as she tried to rationalize Jon's rebuff of her advances.  Their sex life over the past few months had become rather rote, dictated by her fertility calendar.  But it certainly hadn't become unsatisfying, at least not for Jon.

But here he was, snoring away while she lay half-naked and willing beside him. 

Cate sat up, turning away from Jon and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.  She leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees in an unladylike slump.  Her now-freed mahogany hair tumbled forward over her shoulders, curtaining her face as she dropped her head.  She sighed heavily.

Well, this had turned out to be one helluva night.

Cate sat motionless for a long time, replaying the evening's events in her mind.  She angrily swiped away unwelcome tears as she recalled Jon's affectionate toast to Dorothea, then Stephanie's kind concern during their ladies' room encounter.  She had managed to gracefully recover from that painful incident, and had even vowed to forget about it once Jon had returned his doting attention to her later in the party.  They had danced and held hands and shared loving smiles and sweet endearments.  They had shared passionate kisses and private promises.

And now he lay there snoring while she sat here in the dark, inches but miles away, ashamed of herself.  She shouldn't be upset.  She shouldn't be disappointed.  She shouldn't be so petty.  She couldn't stand being so.... weak.

She had to let it go.    

Cate reached up to drag a hand through her tangled mane as she half-growled another heavy sigh.  Then she straightened and rose from the mattress.  Silently she padded across the long room and back into her closet, where she unceremoniously kicked off her shoes and stripped off her underclothes, not bothering to unsnap her garters from her stockings. 

Cate pawed through a drawer until she found her ratty old Philadelphia Eagles jersey, the garment that was as much a security blanket as it was a night shirt.  She slipped the shirt over her head and let it slide down over her body, causing her to involuntarily shiver as the soft nylon slithered across her still-tightened nipples.  With another quiet growl of discontent Cate wandered back into the bedroom.

She passed by the bed, glancing at Jon's prone form and seeing that he hadn't moved.  She strolled over to the tall, boxy wardrobe in the corner and tugged open a door.  Taking a soft blanket from inside, Cate pushed the door shut before retracing her steps to the bed. 

She paused to shake out the blanket and drape it across Jon's body.  He let out a little grunt of unconscious acknowledgement, welcoming the protective warmth.  Cate smiled tiredly, then leaned down to press a soft kiss against Jon's cheek.  He released another rumbling, snuffling snore from his open mouth.

Straightening from her goodnight kiss, Cate surveyed the bed.  Jon had managed to sprawl out almost exactly in the center of the king-sized mattress, leaving little room on either side of the bed for comfortable occupancy.  He was also asleep on top of the bedclothes, preventing her from pulling back the duvet and sheets. 

Cate sighed again as she realized it would be futile for her to spend the remainder of the night in their bedroom.  Jon's bed-hogging and drunken snoring combined with her sexual frustration and guilt-wracked mind would almost certainly make sleep impossible.  It looked like she would be staying in the guest room tonight.

She paused momentarily as she wondered whether it would be safe to leave Jon alone, but after a quick evaluation of his breathing and body position Cate decided he would be fine.  Jon may be drunk, but he wasn't so plastered that he would choke on his own vomit.

Cate managed an ironic snort at her predicament.  This wasn't at all how she had thought Jon's birthday night would end.   She sighed again and wandered toward the bedroom door.  She paused to look back at her slumbering husband, a wry smile turning her lips.

"Happy Birthday, Jonny."

She slipped through the door, careful to pull it shut behind her.

*****

She was jolted awake by the uncomfortable sensation she was being watched.  Automatically Cate's hand snaked out from under her pillow, reaching for the nightstand.  Her fingers scrabbled over the wood, seeking the spot where she always placed her duty weapon when she traveled alone.

Her pulse jumped when she realized her gun wasn't there, but there was definitely someone in her room.  The pungent odor of sweat and stale alcohol stung Cate's nostrils and her now-alerted hearing pinpointed low, ragged breathing just feet away from her vulnerable position.  Her eyes snapped open, her vision taking a moment to adjust as her foggy brain struggled to catch up with her sensory reflexes. 

White cotton sheets bathed in soft light swam into view, then a pale gray wall.  Her cheek remained pressed against the pillow.  She blinked involuntarily against the filtered sunlight though her body remained still, muscle memory from years of threat detection training taking over.  Instinctively Cate tensed, ready to leap from the bed and fight or flee.

"Hey you.  Mornin'." 

His deep, raspy drawl made her gasp with relief, then close her eyes and swallow.  Her brain clicked, the pieces falling into place.  She wasn't in a hotel, she was in the apartment's guest room.  Jon was the man standing beside the bed, staring down at her.  And he smelled like he had just crawled in off the barroom floor. 

Cate sighed softly, then rolled onto her back.  Her sapphire eyes narrowed to a squint as she looked up at her husband.  She frowned even more as she realized he wasn't just gazing back at her, he was smiling.  His scruffy cheeks were shiny with perspiration and his blonde shag was tangled and matted.  Below his chipper grin his gray t-shirt was darkened from neck to navel with sweat.

"Jesus, Jon... You about gave me a heart attack," Cate groaned weakly.  She raised a hand to cover her eyes, briefly blocking the daylight while she pulled in a deep breath, trying to slow her pounding pulse.  After a moment she slid her palm upward and curved her fingers against her scalp, pushing long cinnamon tendrils back from her face.

"Sorry, Baby."  Jon's apology was delivered with a smile.  He stepped closer and sat on the edge of the mattress, then reached for her hand.  He pulled it to his lips for a gentle kiss before dropping it to rest on his thigh and twining his fingers with hers.  "I didn't think you'd still be snoozing, Sleepyhead."

Again Cate's eyes narrowed as she craned her neck for a look at the bedside clock.  "What time is it?" she mumbled when she couldn't quite make out the numbers.

"Ten-thirty.  You musta been tired."  Jon chuckled quietly, his smile gentling.  "You never sleep in this late.  And you hardly moved from when I checked in on you two hours ago."

As if cued by his observation, Cate yawned.  She nodded slowly, realizing his comment was correct.  Her momentary adrenaline jolt now passed, she had relaxed to a state of semi-weariness.  The thought of leaving this bed and facing the day was less than attractive.

"I was.  I am.  Tired, I mean."  Cate sighed.   "Not like I've slept much this week." 

Jon's smile turned sheepish and his gaze dropped to their joined hands.  "Guess I was snoring pretty loud, huh?"

"Huh?"

"To make you move in here."  Jon waved his free hand, indicating their surroundings.  "Was I that bad that you had to abandon ship?"

Cate blinked in momentary disbelief.  Was Jon serious?  Did he really have no recall of how their evening had ended?

"Well... yeah."  She cautiously affirmed his theory.  "And you were kinda hogging the bed."

"I was?"  Jon returned his gaze to hers, mild surprise registering in its azure depths.

Cate nodded & yawned again.  "You passed out right in the middle.  Isn't that where you woke up?"  The question came out as a mild snark.

"I passed out?"  Jon chortled softly.  "Guess that explains why I was still wearing my shirt."  He gave her hand a little squeeze.  "Thanks for at least taking off my pants and shoes.  And giving me that blanket, I presume."

Cate frowned, giving Jon a mild version of his infamous stink-eye.  "You don't remember?  What a surprise."  This time her sarcasm was intended. 

"Hey, I remember last night!  Most of it, anyway."  Jon grinned through his argument.  "I remember you being all over me in the car on the way home.  And I remember you knocking that picture off the wall in the hallway."

"You knocked that down, not me."

"You sure?"

"Yes.  I'm sure.  I only had one glass of wine.  You had about three bottles."  Cate arched a brow.  "And how the fuck are you up and functioning, anyway?  You couldn't even walk when I dumped you into bed." 

She growled crankily to herself, noting the injustice of the situation.  She had hardly drank anything and she felt like she had been hit like a truck.  Jon had gotten completely plastered and was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after returning from a morning workout.

"You know the drill.  Eat, drink, and be merry, then sweat it out the next day."  Jon grimaced playfully.  "And wash down a handful of Advil with a big fuckin' cuppa coffee."

Cate wrinkled her nose at Jon's reply.  "Yeah, you're sweating it out, alright.  You smell like you just crawled out of a wine barrel.  Bet your sweat is hundred-proof."  She sniffed cautiously to confirm her earlier observation.  The unpleasant stench of stale alcohol wafted through her nostrils, making her wince.

Jon chuckled sexily and leaned down.  He gave her a wink, then tipped his chin to offer Cate his neck.  "Why don't you take a taste and see?"

Cate recoiled against her pillow, her lip curving into a sneer of distaste.  "Eww... No thanks."

"Aw, c'mon, Baby.... Thought you liked me all sweaty."  Jon leaned a little more, pushing his clammy skin closer to her lips.

"Not right now, I don't."  Cate cringed and turned her head against the pillow.  "Jon!"

Jon gave another amused chortle, then dropped his lips against Cate's exposed cheek.  He gave her a sweet buss, then moved his mouth to nuzzle against her ear.  "How 'bout I climb in there with you and get you all sweaty too?"

Cate felt a flush of indignance at Jon's proposition.  She had been more than ready for a sweaty romp in the sack hours ago, when all he wanted to do was sleep.  Now the tables had turned.

"How about you go take a shower?  And maybe put on some deodorant?"

Jon pulled back, grinning at her cranky counter-proposal.  "Okay.  How 'bout you come with me and be sure I get all squeaky-clean?  Maybe wash my back?  Give my undercarriage a little scrub?"  He gave his brows a playful waggle.

Cate turned her head against the pillow so she could look up at his face.  His amused smirk made her mouth curve involuntarily, though she felt another flash of annoyance at Jon's cheerfulness.  "No thanks.  You're a big boy.  You can scrub your own... undercarriage."  She tried to give Jon another stink-eye to underscore the euphemism, but couldn't quite muster one.

Jon raised a hand to clutch at his sweaty t-shirt over his heart, feigning injury.  "OH!  Ow!  Zing!"  He gave Cate another teasing grin.  "I really smell that bad, that you're not even gonna give me a little birthday lovin'?"

Cate snorted.  "It's not your birthday anymore."

"But yesterday was.  And we didn't get a chance to celebrate privately."  Jon winked.

"Oh, we had the chance."  Cate arched a brow and gave Jon an accusing glare.  "And it wasn't my fault we didn't... celebrate."

Jon blinked, momentarily taken aback by his wife's snarl.  His grin relaxed, then turned sheepish as he comprehended her thinly-veiled message.  His mind flashed on the previous night's frantically amorous trek through the apartment, then on this morning's lonely wake-up.  Apparently he had committed the ultimate husbandly faux-pas.

"Oh.  Uhh... I guess I... owe you an apology?"  Jon cringed with his half-confession, half-question.  "I didn't quite rise to the occasion last night.  Huh?"  He tipped his head and gave her a contrite smile.

"You could say that."  Cate pressed her lips firmly together to prevent the smile that threatened to undermine her purposeful snarkiness.  She wasn't going to let him off so easy this time, despite that damned adorable little-boy grin. 

"Baby, I'm sorry.  I had a lot of damned wine..."

Cate rolled her eyes.  "Tell me about it."  She turned her cheek again to the pillow, looking away.

Jon chortled softly.  He could tell Cate was annoyed with him, but he could see in her avoidance of his gaze that she wasn't truly angry.  She knew if she looked him straight in the eye her ruse would be revealed.

"So you were gonna give me a special birthday present, huh?"

"Yeah, I was.  But too late now."

With a sexy chuckle Jon leaned down again, his lips hovering close to Cate's ear.  "Baby, I'm soooo sorry.  How 'bout I make it up to you?"

Cate shrugged, her jaw tightening as she resolved to maintain her serious demeanor.  But his warm breath in her ear was quickly thawing her fake chill.  "Nope.  Moment's over.  You blew it."

Jon grinned, swallowing the easy joke that was ready to roll off his tongue.  "Awww... c'mon, Baby.  There's gotta be somethin' I can do to make it up to you..."  He nuzzled her ear, chortling as she automatically shivered.  Then he sat back up. 

"How 'bout this?  I'll go shower, then I'll make you breakfast in bed.  Well, brunch in bed."  Jon glanced again at the clock, noting the late hour.

"I'll be up by the time you get done." 

Cate's obstinate rebuttal made Jon choke back a snicker. "Baby, stay in bed.  You said it yourself, you're tired.  You've had a crazy week."  He raised a hand to gently stroke a thick mahogany lock, then tuck it behind her ear.  "Let me pamper you a little."

She didn't answer right away, though her acquiescence was immediate.  She really didn't want to get out of bed, and brunch sounded lovely.  "Well...."

"Caaaaate...."

She sighed for dramatic effect.  "Okay.  I guess."

"Good."  Jon chuckled and leaned down again to kiss her cheek.  "Eggs okay?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Cheese and spinach?"

"Sure."

"And do you want juice?  Or some of that shitty tea?"

"I don't care."  Cate sighed again.  What she actually wanted was a giant cup of her favorite coffee.  But she had sacrificed that luxury months ago in her fertility quest.  "Juice, I guess."

Jon chortled again as he saw the corner of Cate's mouth curve upward.  She was putting up a strong front, but he knew he had won.  When he returned with another profuse apology and his remorseful tribute on a plate, she wouldn't be able to keep up her pissed-off facade. 

He reached down to give her hip a little pat over the covers, then groaned as he pushed up from the bed.  "Okay, then.  Go back to sleep.  I'll be back soon." 

" 'Kay."  Her response was mumbled.  She closed her eyes, then eased her lashes open a crack as she heard Jon shuffle toward the door.  She couldn't hide her smile when she saw him turn and grin back at her from the doorway.

It was almost an hour later when Jon returned to the bedroom.  Though she had managed to doze a bit during his absence, Cate was awake and waiting when he pushed open the door.  She chuckled softly when she saw that he was clearly pulling out all the stops to get back into her good graces.

Not only did her husband come bearing breakfast, he had nearly bared himself.  His freshly-showered, shirtless torso seemed to glow in the soft natural light filtering through the windows.  Silver strands in his fluffy chest hair glistened against his taut pecs.  Jon's biceps bulged with the flex of his arms as he carried a wide wooden tray laden with dishes, utensils, napkins, a beverage carafe, and a folded newspaper.  

His gray knit pajama pants rode low on his hips, threatening to slip all the way down if he moved any faster.  Cate couldn't resist an appreciative peek beneath the breakfast tray.  The sight of Jon's little bellybutton and the fuzzy stripe that traveled downward to disappear under his waistband made her smirk.

"About time," she chided gently as Jon padded slowly across the floor, carefully balancing the heavily-laden tray.    "I'm starving."

"Sorry for the delay," he replied with a wink and a cheeky grin.  "I couldn't find a thing to wear."

Cate giggled softly, finally letting down her guard.  While she was still annoyed at Jon for the previous evening's mishaps, she was willing to let bygones be bygones.  After all, it wasn't often they got to spend a lazy Saturday morning together.

"I see that.  Maybe we need to take you shopping."

"Nah.  That means we'd have to go out."  Jon stopped beside the bed and waited for Cate to sit up and prop her pillows behind her.  When she was ready he carefully set the tray on her lap.  "Got it?"

"Uh huh."  Cate nodded and grasped the tray's handles, steadying it.  "Smells good," she observed while Jon rounded the bed.

"I know.  I was half-tempted to eat my share before I brought in yours,"  Jon grinned and gave his wife another playful wink as he tugged back the bedclothes.  He stacked up a pile of pillows against the headboard before climbing onto the mattress and pulling the sheets and blankets up over his lap.

"Well that would have put you in my good graces," Cate remarked sarcastically.

"I know.  Figured I was far enough in the doghouse already."  Jon scooted close to his wife and stretched out his legs.  "Here."  He patted his lap, signaling for her to share the tray's weight.

She obliged, sliding the tray sideways so it balanced half on Jon's thigh, half on hers.  "So, what did you bring me?"  She carefully peeled a layer of aluminum foil off a large oval platter, then giggled again when she spied an enormous pile of scrambled eggs.  Bits of bright orange cheddar and green fresh spinach dotted the fluffy yellow mound.  On either side of the egg mountain were arranged a half-dozen wheat-toast triangles.

"You said you wanted eggs, I brought you eggs."  Jon pulled the newspaper from the tray and set it aside.  "And juice."

"What kind of juice?" Cate asked skeptically, wondering if he had guessed correctly at her preference.

"Tomato juice.  Duh."  Jon replied playfully. He picked up the carafe and turned the lid, then poured her a glass of the thick red liquid.  "Careful.  That stuff's a bitch to get out of the sheets."

"Oh really?  How do you know?"  Cate accepted the glass and took a sip. 

"You learn a lotta shit when you travel with a rock-and-roll band,"  Jon teased.

Cate reached to set the juice on the nightstand.  "Ah.  Sorry I asked." 

"S'Alright.  I'll tell ya all about it.  See, there were these three strippers in Reno..."

"Okay, okay!"  Cate laughed and held up a hand.  "Don't need to know!"

Jon grinned.  "Good, 'cause my memory of that is pretty fuzzy."

"Well, let's keep it that way."  Cate picked up a piece of toast and took a bite.  "Mmm."

"There's marmalade if you want it."  Jon pointed to a small jar on the corner of the tray, then picked up a travel mug and took a drink.

Cate shook her head.  "No thanks."  She took another bite of toast and chewed slowly before picking up her fork.  "Okay, I'm goin' in."

"Wait!"  Jon's protest made Cate halt, her fork held midair.  "Let me."

"What?"  Cate gave Jon a confused look as he plucked the fork from her hand.  Then she giggled as she realized his intention.  "Jon, I can feed myself.  I'm not a fucking invalid."

"Didn't say you were.  But I'm trying to atone for my sins here.  Let me be a thoughtful fucking husband, okay?"  Jon softened his argument with a sweet smile.  He scooped a small mound of eggs onto the fork.  "Now here comes the airplane!  Open the hangar doors!"  He smirked mischievously as he teased Cate with the child-friendly feeding ploy.

"Oh, shut up."  Cate couldn't help but laugh. She reached for the fork.  "You ass."

"Okay, okay!"  Jon brushed away her hand.  "Alright.  Seriously.  Here, take this bite before it gets cold."

Cate gave Jon a suspicious look, then opened her mouth to accept his offering.  She chewed slowly, enjoying the savory flavors.  "Mmmm.  Good."

"Glad you approve."  Jon grinned.  "I do make pretty fuckin' good eggs, don't I?"

"Yes, Baby, you do." 

"Then howsabout a kiss for the cook?"  Jon leaned sideways, giving Cate a little nudge with his shoulder.  He smiled as she turned her face to his and puckered her lips against his mouth.

"Thank you, Baby.  It's good."  Cate smiled back at Jon, her earlier annoyance and tiredness now forgotten.  Her heart squeezed at the loving gaze he gave her in return.

"Good.  Glad you like it."  Jon rubbed his nose playfully against Cate's before turning to reach for the newspaper.  "Here.  What section you want?"

"Sports."

Jon chuckled and shook his head, having silently predicted her answer.  He unfolded the paper and pulled out the sports section, then handed it over.

For the next half-hour Jon and Cate ate and relaxed, sharing tidbits of news from the paper and picking at the tray.  When they finished with the food Jon set the tray aside, then slipped his arm around Cate's waist.  He smiled when she automatically leaned in to him, tucking her shoulder beneath his arm as she continued to hold her folded newspaper. 

Jon pressed a kiss against her temple and turned his gaze toward the paper.  One brow lifted when he saw Cate was now perusing the Arts section.  His eyes slid over the advertisements for the multitude of Broadway musicals.

"Why don't we go catch a show tonight?  Maybe have a late dinner after?  Then come back here for a little... private performance?" 

Cate frowned, surprised by Jon's suggestion.  She turned to give him a serious look.

"Jon, we can't go to a show tonight."

"Why not?  I'm sure we can get seats to whatever you want to see."

Cate snorted and shook her head disbelievingly.  She smirked as Johnny's birthday toast to Jon at last night's party flashed though her thoughts: "The mind is the first thing to go..."

"Because, Dear... tonight you have your birthday dinner with Dorothea and the kids."

Jon stared blankly back at Cate for a moment, then comprehension dawned.  "Shit, you're right!  It is Saturday."  He grinned sheepishly.  "Guess I did kill a few brain cells last night."

"Apparently so," Cate agreed, silently chastising herself for the uneasy little twinge she felt as she said Dorothea's name.  She returned her attention to the newspaper.  She didn't want Jon to read her thoughts in the depths of her gaze.

"What time are we supposed to be there?" 

"I'm not sure.  I thought you two talked about it last night."  Cate shook the newspaper and turned the page.

"I think she said seven.  Yeah... Jesse had something goin' on today, so he was gonna be late."  Jon shrugged.  "I'll text her later and confirm."

"MmmHmm...."  Cate tried to sound noncommittal, though she was less than enthusiastic about the planned evening.  Even when Dorothea had called to invite her to accompany Jon to the private celebration, Cate had immediately felt awkward about intruding on what was clearly meant to be a family affair.

"Damn."  Jon smiled and nuzzled at Cate's ear.  "I love spending time with my kids, but I was hoping to make amends for last night."

Cate squirmed against the tickle of his lips, then sighed.  "Yeah, well.  Shit happens."

"We could skip out early, ya know."  Jon turned on his hip, his free hand sliding under the covers and onto Cate's abdomen.  When gave him a sideways quizzical look, he smiled sexily.  "Blow off dessert.  Come home and break out a can of whipped cream instead."

Cate shook her head slowly, then squirmed again as Jon's fingers curled against her belly in a playful tickle.  She dropped the newspaper onto her lap and sighed.  "You can't skip dessert at your own birthday party, Jon.  Stephanie's baking you a cake.  Besides, you know you'll get over there and start playing with the boys, and next thing we know it will be almost midnight.  I'm sure Jake and Romeo will stay up since they don't have school tomorrow."

"Yeah, you're probably right."  Jon sighed dramatically.  "Well, then.  There's only one thing to do."

"What's that?"  Cate raised an eyebrow.

"Guess I'll have to eat my dessert early."  Jon smirked naughtily.  His hand slipped down from Cate's abdomen to the hem of her football jersey-night shirt.  His fingertips briefly caressed the warm skin of her thigh, then slid upward.

Cate's pulse jumped at the feel of Jon's fingertips ruffling the narrow strip of private fluff between her legs.  She weakly shook her head.  "Jon, you don't have dessert after breakfast."  Her protest was coy, her thighs automatically opening to his touch.

Jon chortled huskily.  "It was brunch.  And I'll eat my dessert any damned time I want.  I'm a fucking grown-up." 

Cate's giggle turned to a delighted gasp as Jon's fingers parted her moist lips, expertly stroking her most sensitive spot.  "Yeah, you are..." she agreed breathily.  Cate growled softly and tipped her head as Jon leaned in to nip at her neck before raising his lips to her ear.

"Football jersey and no panties?"  His chuckle was sexy and delicious.  "Hmmmm.... Somebody was naughty last night."  He emphasized his insinuation with a circle of her clit by one smooth fingertip.

"Noooo...."  Cate's rebuttal was a half-groan.  "Somebody tried to be naughty last night.  But then she came out of her closet in her fucking stockings and garters and high heels and found somebody passed out cold in the middle of the bed."

"What a fucking jerkoff that guy was," Jon agreed, a smile in his sexy croon.  "Betcha he won't make that mistake again."

"He better not."  Cate slumped back against the pillows, tipping her hips upward in response to Jon's ministrations.  Beneath the covers her toes pointed with delicious delight.  "Ohh...."

"Well, better late than never."  Jon chuckled wickedly in Cate's ear before pulling away.  She whimpered when his hand deserted her crotch, then grinned when she realized his motive.

She casually tossed her newspaper to the floor, then  gave Jon an inviting look.  Cate licked her lips in anticipation as she watched Jon slither beneath the covers.  He paused to flash her a grin before his tousled blonde mop disappeared under the duvet.

Cate giggled softly as she watched the husband-sized lump under the bedclothes move clumsily across the mattress, swelling and flattening.  Her giggles turned from amusement to breathy keenness when she felt the brush of Jon's soft stubble against the inside of her thigh, followed by a gentle nip of his teeth.

"Oh, Jonny..." she whispered breathlessly.  An eager purr slipped from her lips as his hands cupped around her knees, then slid in unison up the length of her thighs.  She heard a wicked growl of response from beneath the sheets before Jon sucked sharply at her other thigh.

Cate squeaked when Jon grasped her hips and suddenly yanked, making her slide downward on the mattress and into a deeper recline.  Automatically she reached up over her head, her fingers curling over the top of the carved wooden headboard.  Her stretch made the covers slip a few inches down her torso, opening a small tunnel into the cocoon below.  Cate couldn't hold in a breathy giggle at the sight of Jon's fluffy blonde shag in the shadowy nest.

She purred again at the gentle sensation of Jon's breath against her skin, then of the tip of his tongue tracing a random pattern over her flesh, this time inside her other thigh.  Cate squirmed against the tickle, her hands tightening over the headboard and her arms flexing with the effort of her brace.  Her face contorted into a pleasured grimace as she tried to hold her ticklishness in check, not wanting to delay Jon's progress toward the desired destination.  Her glutes clenched and she bent her knees and dug her heels against the mattress, tensing against Jon's tease.

Jon noticed.  Chortling darkly he raised his head, lifting the covers enough to look up at Cate's face.  His naughty smirk foretold his wicked intention.

"Lay still." 

"I'm trying.  It... tickles."  Cate's answer was breathy.

"Mmmm.  Does it?" Jon lowered his chin, purposely brushing his stubbly cheek against Cate's thigh.  The delicious abrasion made her entire body tingle.  She gasped and gripped the headboard tightly.

"Yeah, Baby.  You hold on tight."  Jon chuckled evilly.  His hands squeezed her hips and yanked again, this time more gently but with enough force to make his purpose clear. 

"Then stop... tickling."  Cate's gaze glittered, the sapphire depths swirling darkly with arousal.  Her breaths came in shallow pants between full, parted lips that curved into an expectant smirk; her voice was a sultry rasp.

"Oh, I'm not gonna tickle..." His eyes not leaving Cate's face, Jon dropped his chin again.  This time his lips parted over the dark stripe of fur against Cate's creamy skin.  His mouth closed over her, gently tugging at the hairs with his teeth.

Cate yelped, then sucked in a long, hissing breath.  Her entire body tensed as she struggled to control her reaction to Jon's delicious torment.  As her arms flexed above her head she felt her nipples contract, their ready points dragging deliciously against the supple nylon of her jersey.  She couldn't stop her hips from tipping eagerly upward, offering him more.

"Mmmm." Jon hummed against Cate's crotch before lifting his mouth from her and smirking.  "You like that."

Cate rumbled a husky chuckle.  "Well.. yeah."

"You want more?"  Jon let the tip of his tongue slide out and wander across his bottom lip, purposely teasing.

"Yes."

"Good.  I want you to watch, Baby. And keep your arms up there.  Don't let go."

Cate snorted softly at his command.  She may be able to maintain her grip on the headboard, but she was certain she wouldn't be able to control the rest of her body once she felt Jon's mouth again.  She nodded weakly.

"Okay."  Jon raised his head, then one hand.  He pushed at the covers over his head, shoving them backwards until they exposed Cate's midsection, enlarging the opening through which he peered up at her face.  "Now watch.  Don't close your eyes."

"Ohhh...kay..."  Cate's response was a shaky sigh.  Her body trembled lightly with anticipation as it flooded with a tingling warmth.  She could tell this wouldn't take long.

Cate licked her suddenly-dry lips and stared back at Jon.  His azure eyes had darkened dramatically, passion sparking in their wide-pupiled depths.  She could see her own passion reflected in his gaze.  Her eyes remained locked with Jon's as he lowered his mouth to her mound.

The first stroke of his tongue electrified her.  Lightning bolted through her synapses, carrying exquisite pleasure to every nerve in her body.  The reaction made her body clench, her muscles quivering like taut bowstrings.  She moaned, her head automatically tossing back.

Jon's reaction was to hook his arms around Cate's thighs and tighten his grip on her hips.  Bracing himself on his elbows, Jon pinned her lower body in place, her knees now  bent over his shoulders.  He raised his mouth from her pussy long enough to give Cate a hungry growl, then buried his mouth against her.

"Oh GOD!" Cate yelped. "JONNY!"  She gripped the headboard with all her strength, the effort nearly lifting her torso from the mattress.  Unable to move her hips, she desperately arched her back.

"Mmmmmm.... Baby.... Watch...."  Jon crooned against Cate's center.  He waited until her eyes dropped to his face, then dragged his tongue hard up the length of her.  He growled happily against her tangy sweetness, feeling the wet warmth coat his lips and chin.

Again Cate jerked against his mouth, but she didn't look away.  Her glittering gaze bored into him, her erotic fascination painted in her darkly beautiful expression.  Her glistening lips moved to form a husky purr.  "More..."

Jon obediently responded to her command with another long lick up her steamy slit.  He paused at the top to swirl the tip of his tongue around her rigid clit, chuckling wickedly at her ragged gasp of delight.  He closed his mouth around the little nub, sucking gently, intensifying the sensation.

"Oh GOD!  JON!!!"  Cate cried, her raspy voice suddenly full-throated.  Again her hips attempted to buck against him but he held her in an iron grip.  Jon felt her dig her heels hard against the mattress as he watched her arch her back even more.  A rosy flush pinkened her cheeks and she panted heavily, but her swirling sapphire gaze was still on him.

A delighted chuckle rumbled from Jon's chest, Cate's vocalization sending a surge of manly pride through him. He lifted his lips from her voice his encouragement.  "Yeah, Baby.  There ya go.  Nobody's here but us... go ahead.  Lemme hear ya."

"God, Jonny... I... Jesus... Please..."  She was unable to form a coherent sentence between panting gasps, but he got the point.  Jon lowered his head again, groaning happily as his lips closed over her.  She shuddered against his mouth.

"Oh!!!  Oh... Baby!  I... Christ, Jonny..."  Cate struggled to keep her gaze on him like he instructed, fighting her instinct to let her eyes slip closed and thrash her head from side to side.  Her arms strained as she gripped the headboard for dear life, her muscles groaning with fatigue as their tension grew.  She let out a high-pitched yet surprisingly guttural squeal of fervent need.

Jon felt her swell against his lips as her cries pierced his ears.  He moaned excitedly, knowing the time had come.  His vise-grip on her hips intensified and his thumbs dug into the sides of her ass as Jon braced Cate for the finish.  Flattening his tongue hard against her clit he rapidly shook his head, roughly abrading the little button.

Her response was instantaneous.  Cate let out a shriek of ecstasy followed by a long panting moan as her entire body spasmed.  Her juices flooded from her, drenching Jon's mouth and chin.  His happy groan joined her vocalization as he lapped eagerly at the wetness he had so skillfully produced.

Unable to keep up her obeyance of Jon's order, Cate tossed her head back and squeezed her lids tightly shut as spasms wracked her body.  She felt as if fireworks were exploding in her womb, lava running in her veins.  Then, suddenly, she felt a flush of relief.  She sighed heavily and let her body slump against the bed.  There she lay, panting raggedly.

The intensity of her orgasm was a welcome surprise, given their recent sexual experiences.  Cate's lips curved into a relieved smile as she released her grip on the headboard, letting her fatigued arms fall limply onto the mattress at her sides.

Jon raised his mouth from her and sucked in a breath.  As his heart thudded in his chest he looked up at Cate's face and saw he had lost her attention.  His smirk returned as he recognized her trance-like state of relief.  Jon silently congratulated himself on his excellent cunnilingus skills before again lowering his mouth to her mound.

The feel of his tongue on her hypersensitized clit made Cate bolt upright.   She squirmed against Jon for a brief moment, then fell back against the pillows when he again clamped down her hips.  Her hands fisted the sheets at her sides as again she felt the heated wave building. 

Cate cried out a long, hoarse moan, her body again tensing into a rigid plank as the second orgasm flooded over her.  Then she collapsed, her torso slumping against the mattress as she panted.  From between her thighs she heard a wicked, self-satisfied chortle before she felt Jon's grip relax. 

The mattress dipped and creaked as Jon shifted position beneath the covers, gently lowering her legs from their bend over his shoulders.  He raised his head and shook it, emerging from his lair of sheets and blankets. Jon crawled upward until his chest hovered over her middle, then lowered his face to rub it against Cate's belly, using her jersey to wipe away the leftover stickiness from his stubble. 

Too exhausted to cringe at the tickle of Jon's nuzzle, Cate cracked open her lids and smiled weakly down at him through her panting breaths.   He grinned back up at her, then groaned and lowered himself onto her warm body.  He grimaced at the contact of his belly with the sizable wet spot on the sheets before turning his head and dropping his cheek against Cate's abdomen.  He sighed, letting himself relax.

Cate raised a weak hand to Jon's head, threading her fingers into his unkempt tawny mane.  She chortled softly, then sighed.  "My God, Jon... that... that was... fuckin' incredible."

Jon grinned at her compliment but didn't raise his head.  "You're welcome."

"No, really.  It was... well... the hardest I've... well... in awhile."  Her voice was still breathy with her shallow pants, her recovery not yet complete.

"Good.  Seems my pussy-eating skills are still top-notch."  Jon snickered with his coarse boast.

Cate giggled hoarsely and blew out a breath.  "Yeah, well.  Guess you really do learn a thing or two when you go on tour with a rock-and-roll band."  Her reference to Jon's earlier tease was perfectly-timed.  "And apparently it's like riding a bike."

Jon barked out a laugh at her sarcastic barb, then reached up for her other hand.  Finding it laying limp against the sheets, he gave it a squeeze before answering with his own immodest tease. 

"Nah, I already knew how to do that before I went out on the road.  I was quite a connoisseur at an early age."  He chortled dirtily.  "But givin' good head is just like playing guitar... the more you practice, the easier it comes.  Or the harder."

That made Cate giggle again, then dissolve into a fit of hoarse coughs before she caught her breath.  Jon waited while she pulled in a trio of deep breaths, calming herself.  Under his ear he could hear her heartbeat slow.

"Gee, aren't we romantic this morning," Cate observed wryly.  "So much for a little sweet talk and cuddling after sex.  Instead we get an oral history of pussy-eating.  Pun intended."

Jon grinned.  "Nah, you get the sweet talk and cuddling later.  After I get to come."  He raised his head and turned his face to give her a sexy wink.  "You gotta work for the romantic stuff, Baby."

Cate snorted and rolled her eyes, but smiled.  "Hmm.  Well in that case... maybe romance is overrated."

"Har-dee-har-har." Jon fake-laughed, then snuggled his cheek against Cate's belly.  "Nah, I don't mind not getting my rocks off every time.  I like pleasuring you."  He grinned smugly.  "I'm a good husband."

"Yes, Baby, you are."  Cate twirled her fingers in Jon's hair, idly twisting the honey-gold locks.  "But a girl can't live on oral sex alone."  She chuckled.

"Nope.  And that ain't how you make a baby, either."  Jon gave Cate's hand another squeeze.  "One of these days we'll get that right.  Soon."

Cate's heart squeezed with Jon's confident prediction.  God, she hoped he was right.  She didn't know how much more disappointment she could bear.

When she didn't comment Jon raised his head to look at her face.  He was relieved to see she was smiling though there was a trace of melancholy in her eyes.  Hoping to return to their light banter, Jon gave her a sexy little smirk.

"Ya know, tonight when we're all having birthday cake at Dorothea's, all that's gonna be running through my mind is that I already ate my dessert.  Don't know how I'm gonna keep a straight face."  He snickered dirtily. 

Cate chuckled softly, but Jon could tell her response was half-hearted.  She dropped her gaze to their joined hands against the sheets.

"Yeah, about that."  Cate's voice was soft and apologetic.  "Baby... I'm not gonna go tonight."

FORTY-FIVE

The words knifed through her. 

Time seemed to stop... she saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing.  Nothing but the ache that strangled her heart. 

My wife, Dorothea....

Cate sat motionless, her stunned brain unable to comprehend what her heart had already recognized.  Through her numbness she could sense what was happening around her, every pair of eyes in the grand room turning in her direction.  Yet she could not react. 

She just sat, her expression frozen and her gaze fixed on the stage.

Cate wasn't the only one taken aback by Jon's sentimental toast.  There was an awkward hesitation before someone volunteered a weak response of "Hear Hear!"  The recovery was followed by a chorus of "To Dorothea!"  and "Salud!" mingled with a smattering of applause.

Onstage Dorothea shifted uncomfortably, not looking at the crowd.  Her cheeks pinkened with a modest blush, then she leaned in to accept Jon's affectionate embrace and buss on the cheek.

Somehow Cate lifted her water glass, tipping it toward the stage before touching it to her lips.  She took a sip, barely taking in a mouthful of the tepid liquid.  The very feel of the moisture nearly caused a wave of nausea as her stomach twisted miserably.  Still, her face remained frozen in a gracious half-smile.

As she watched Jon and Dorothea embrace on the stage, Cate swallowed hard.  In her peripheral vision she saw Carol beaming and applauding.  Jesse and Stephanie exchanged an uncomfortable look, then turned their attention back to their parents.   Cate pulled in a slow, shaky breath, steeling herself for whatever was next to come.

Dorothea stepped back from Jon's embrace, her hand lingering for a moment in his as she pulled away.  She gave him another modest smile and a nod, then raised a demure hand to acknowledge the audience's applause before dismounting the stage.  Jon watched her depart, standing alone in the spotlight.

"Thanks, Dorothea.  For everything."  Jon repeated into the microphone.  She again raised her hand in acknowledgement as she skirted around the edge of the gathering and back to her station.

Jon's smile turned tender as he stood quietly, letting his gaze move slowly once more from table to table.  His expression betrayed his gratitude as his eyes met with those of friends and loved ones, each connection a silent exchange of unique solidarity.  He lowered his lips again to the microphone, his voice soft and husky.

"Yeah.  I'm a lucky, lucky man.  It's been a wonderful ride.  Thank you all, every one of you, for being in my charmed, blessed life."  His voice tightened again and his azure eyes glittered. 

"To another Fifty."  Richie's cheerful drawl from the crowd saved him.  Jon chuckled as he saw his friend extend his glass into the air.

"Hear Hear," Obie echoed.  Again the toast spread, followed by a more vigorous round of applause.  The orchestra picked up the cue, repeating the last stanza of Happy Birthday To You.

Onstage, Jon smirked wryly and raised his wine glass in a salute toward the crowd before downing the remainder of its contests in a gulp.  He gave the Sinatra impersonator a cheeky grin as the man approached him on the stage.

"So, I guess this makes me the second Old Blue Eyes now, huh?"

"Frank" didn't miss a beat, deadpanning in a perfect Sinatra Jersey-growl.  "Yeah, don't push that luck-a yours, Sonny."

Jon tossed his head back with his laughter.  Then he leaned sideways, reaching to return his microphone to its stand.

"Hey!  Who told you to put that back?  I didn't say you were done,"  "Frank" challenged.

Jon cringed, smirking amusedly at his reprimand.  He pulled the mic back to his body.  "I'm not?"

"You're done when I say you're done, Paisan."  "Frank" shook a finger at Jon, the movement cueing the orchestra.  "Now sit down, shut up and listen."  He pointed at a stool positioned just behind where Jon stood.

Jon laughed and nodded.  He hastily stepped back to lower himself onto the stool, clasping his hands around the microphone and dropping them to his lap.  He lowered his head contritely, but couldn't resist a smirk up at the audience. 

Noticing the crowd's amused reaction, "Frank" gave Jon another finger-shake for good measure, before half-turning to face the house.  The orchestra introduction to A Very Good Year swelled majestically behind him.  The impersonator delivered in a dead-on Sinatra croon his rendition of the famous standard.

In 1962

It was a very good year.

It was a very good year, for Carol and John

They were blessed with a son

A little boy in blue

In 1962

The crowd chuckled appreciatively at the creativity of the lyrics.  Across the table from Cate Jon's parents laughed amusedly.  As Carol clapped her hands together with delight John Senior slid his arm around her shoulders.  With his other hand he reached to tousle Romeo's hair, giving the boy an affectionate smile. 

Again Cate felt her tender heart squeeze miserably.  Though just moments ago she had been most uncomfortably the center of attention, she now felt as if she didn't belong here at all, intruding on this intimate family moment.

When Jon was just fifteen

It was a very good year

It was a very good year, for our rising star

He had girls and a guitar

And a really cool car

Everyone knew he'd go far...

Despite her unease Cate's lips curved into a weak smile as she returned her gaze to Jon.  He was clearly enjoying the serenade, a relaxed grin dimpling his soft cheeks and his blue eyes sparkling as he responded to the entertainer.  He didn't seem to realize his faux-pas.  She swallowed again, silently trying to force her disappointment aside for her husband's sake. 

The effort made her heart throb again, this time with equal parts guilt and hurt.  Cate's hands twisted in her lap as she tried not to frown out of frustration with her inability to control her emotions.  Dammit, what was she doing?  She had to let Jon's words go.  This was his night, not hers.  She couldn't let her own insecurity put a damper on Jon's celebration.

She had to get out of this room, away from all these sideways glances and compassionate smiles she could feel even if she couldn't see.  She just needed a few minutes to pull herself together, then she would be fine.

Taking another slow, quiet breath, Cate reached for her bag.  She carefully pushed back her chair and rose.  When John Senior gave her a kind, questioning look, she mouthed a silent "Excuse Me" before turning away from the table.

Cate tried to keep her lips curved into a smile and her eyes down as she weaved through the tables.  She knew if she met a sympathetic gaze she would lose what little facade of composure she was barely holding onto.

It seemed to take an hour, but in less than a  minute she successfully navigated the table-maze and found the small alcove in the club's corner that hid the doors to the restrooms.  At her back she heard the crowd react warmly to the continued Sinatra croon.

Cate sighed with relief when she pushed through the heavy walnut door into the ladies' room.  The sound of the club shut out, she could feel herself breathe, hear her heart beat.  She was thankfully alone. 

She took a couple wobbly steps across the little powder room before sinking onto a velvet-covered bench before a softly-lit vanity mirror.  Momentarily drained by the effort of holding in her emotions, Cate stared blankly at her reflection. 

After a long moment she sighed at the vision she beheld.  Her dress, her hair, and her makeup were still perfect but the happy contentment was gone from her sapphire gaze.  In its place was a stare of wounded melancholy.

Cate frowned as a wave of disgust washed over her.  "GodDAMMIT!" she swore angrily at her reflection, feeling her tears well.  "STOP it!"  Her lower lip trembled despite her admonishment and a drop of moisture rolled down her cheek.  She raised a hand to swipe it away, then fluttered her hand at her eyes in an vain attempt to dry them as she gulped in a pair of deep breaths.

She squeezed her eyes closed, causing a bit more moisture to leak between her lashes.  She concentrated on her breathing, forcing herself to calm.  When she was convinced she had a handle on her emotions she slowly parted her lashes.

"He didn't mean it."  Cate's voice was a soft half-whisper to her reflection, trying to convince it of the excuse.  Again her lip trembled, just a tiny bit.  Cate pulled it between her teeth and bit down, silently warning her self-pity to stop.  After another half-minute she released it.

"It's done. Over."   Cate straightened her posture and glared at herself in the mirror.  "Salute smartly and carry on."

The mantra made the corners of her mouth tip upward.  Cate snorted softly as she shook her head at herself.  She had faced such adversity, dealt with so many hard and ugly and truly horrible things in her life and in her career.  She had always been able to digest, rationalize, and compartmentalize the things that affected her, and to move on and do her job. 

So why was this so hard?  They were just words.  Harmless words.  An innocent slip of the tongue by her husband had her on the verge of breaking down.

Of course it was innocent.

He didn't mean it.

Cate stared at herself for a long time, silently repeating the defense.  Finally she sighed and looked away.  Her gaze lowered to her lap, where her hands curved around her evening bag.

She had to go back out there, and she needed to look normal.  It would be bad enough that everyone would go out of their way to be extra-nice to her the rest of the night; she didn't need anyone to see even a trace of tears.

Cate snapped open her purse and withdrew a small compact case.  She clicked open the little oval, automatically glancing in the illuminated mirror.  Carefully Cate brushed the round pouf across the pressed powder before dabbing it over her cheeks and nose, dulling the shiny streaks caused by the few rogue tears.

A soft buzz from her lap made her jump.  She swore softy, then finished patting her face before putting away the compact and picking up her phone.  The name on the screen made her lips curve a little more.

9:42 PM   So, Slick... Birthday Boy drunk yet?

Cate couldn't stop a soft chortle at the text message.  She was practically able to hear her old friend's sarcastic half-growl as she read the simple question.  She dropped her chin as she moved her manicured fingers over her phone's screen, composing her reply.

9:43 PM  He's well on his way.  You back?

9:44 PM  Around noon.  WTF r u doing texting @ Jons Party?

Cate giggled softly at Danny's half-accusing query.   She typed quickly.

9:46 PM  Ladies room.  Need break from party.

She stared expectantly at the glowing screen, awaiting Danny's reply.  Her still-tender heart gave a grateful little squeeze that she was hearing from him at all; he had been out of the country for the past six months.  Though they had kept in touch as much as possible by e-mail, Cate had missed her almost-daily text chat with her long-time partner and best friend. 

She almost dropped the phone when it began buzzing urgently in her hand.  On the screen appeared a bright image of Danny's grinning face, above the announcement of his incoming call.

"Slick!  What the fuck are ya doin' hiding out in the latrine?  Ain't there a party goin' on?"  Danny's jolly tease made Cate's eyes mist again, this time with grateful emotion. 

"Yeah, well.  You've seen one party, you've seen 'em all."  She chuckled hoarsely.  "What the fuck are you doing calling me?  You should be wrapped up in the sheets with your wife."

"Nah.  She's cookin' me dinner.  Wore her out already."  Cate could envision the cheeky smirk that accompanied Danny's excuse.  "So, what's wrong?"

Cate sighed softly despite herself.  Though she had only uttered three sentences, Danny had picked up on her melancholy mood.  Even if she had only said three syllables, he would have been able to tell something was amiss.  He knew her that well.

"Nothing.  Just tired, is all."

"Yeah, right.  You don't hide in the ladies' room when you're tired."

"Sometimes I do."  Cate felt her lower lip protrude stubbornly with her rebuttal.  "It's nice in here, away from the noise and the crowd.  Gives me a chance to breathe."

"Where's everybody else?"

"Listening to the entertainer.  Sinatra impersonator, a really good one.  Jon's loving it.  In fact, he's onstage with him right now."

"Jon's onstage and you're in the head?" Danny snorted.  "Yeah, and you're trying to tell me nothing's wrong.  Sure."

"Danny, seriously.  I'm just tired.  I was out on an op all week, just came in on the redeye this morning.  It's been a long fucking day."

"Bullshit.  C'mon, Cate.  Spill it."

Cate chuckled softly and sighed again, knowing it was useless to continue to protest.  Danny would just goad her until she broke down.

"Oh.... alright.  Yes, I'm hiding.  You happy now?"

"No.  What happened?"

"I just needed to get away for a few minutes."

"From whom?"

"Everybody."  Cate swallowed as she felt her voice grow husky.  "I just... I couldn't stand everybody watching me."

Danny's voice deepened a bit, his unconscious habit as he closed in on a truth.  Cate smiled wearily as she recognized his anticipatory rumble.  "Watching you why?  What happened?"

Cate snorted.  "I fell on my ass.  What do ya think?"

"I think you're blowing smoke up my ass."  Danny paused.  His tone gentled.  "Cate.  Tell me."

The very timbre of Danny's voice made the lump return to Cate's throat.  Again she felt her heart squeeze miserably.  She sighed heavily.

"It's no big deal.  I just feel... stupid.  For getting upset over something so petty."

"What so-called petty thing upset you?"  There was a subtle steely note behind Danny's gentle voice now, his protective instinct awakened.

"Jon said something... unexpected.  When he was up on the stage, giving his birthday speech.  He didn't mean it.  Hell, Danny... he probably doesn't even realize he said it.  He's had at least four glasses of wine already..."

"What was it, Cate?"

Cate hesitated, having to force the words.  She swallowed again.  "He... he called Dorothea up on the stage, to thank her for putting together the party."

"And?  Didn't she do most of it?  That's what I seem to recall you telling me."

"Yes.  Hell, she did ALL of it."  Cate breathed a half-frustrated sigh.  "Danny, I don't care that he called Dorothea up in front of everybody.  I'm glad he did.  In fact, I kinda told him to."

"So why are you upset?"

"Because... Fuck, it sounds so... jealous."  Cate growled at herself, half-embarrassed.  "And I know I shouldn't be, and I feel like a fucking idiot for being like this."

"Jesus, Cate... WHAT?  Spit it the fuck out!"  Danny's exasperation finally burst through.

"He... He offered a toast to Dorothea.  Thanking her for her role in the party, for their kids, for standing by him all these years..."  Cate stopped to clear her throat.  "It was a beautiful, eloquent toast, Danny.  From the heart."

"And that made you jealous?  Cate, you know the history they share.  It's never bothered you before."

"Danny, he called her his Wife.  Not his 'Ex,' or his 'Former'.... Jon held up his glass and announced 'To my wife, Dorothea."  Cate couldn't hold back a bitter edge to her words.

She could tell from the momentary silence that Danny was as stunned as she had been.  But he recovered more quickly.

"Shit.  And what did you do?"

"What could I do?  Every single person in the room was watching me.  I just sat there."

"At your seat?"

"Yes.  With Jon's kids and his parents.  While he stood up there with a big stupid grin and a glass of wine, holding her hand and toasting her."

Danny let out a low whistle.  "Wow.  Well, I guess I can see why you're a little pissed."

Cate sighed again.  "I'm not pissed, Danny.  Well, maybe I am, a little... but not at Jon.   I'm pissed at myself because I about fucking burst into tears right there at the table."

"You didn't, did you?"

"No.  But it has fucking hard not to.  I sat there and smiled and raised my glass while everybody fucking stared at me.  And then I got the Hell out of there as soon as I could, to pull myself together."

"So you ran off to the ladies room."

"Where the fuck else was I supposed to go?  I'm at the Carnegie Club, Danny.  It's the bathroom, the kitchen, or outside.  And I can't exactly leave... that would look even worse."

"So what are you gonna do now, Slick?  Stay in there all night, hiding?  While the party goes on without you?"  Cate could hear the challenge hidden in his calm question.  She felt her mouth curve despite herself.  He was so good at knowing what she needed, especially when it was a kick in the pants.

"I suppose I could."

"But you won't."

"Maybe I will."

"No you won't.  You're not gonna let all those people think you're weak.  You hate being weak."  His words were tough but his voice was gentle.  If anyone knew the true depth her vulnerability, it was Danny.

"Yeah, I do." Cate sighed.  "But lately... Jesus, Danny.  Lately it just seems like I'm always on the verge of tears.  I'm so..."  She paused, searching for a word.  It didn't come.

"Cate, you're going through a lot.  You and Jon both, with the treatments...  And you're not weak.  You're still as strong as ever, maybe stronger.  You're just softer, is all."

Cate blinked back grateful tears at Danny's gentle compliment.  "I know.  I just... Christ, things have just been so out of control lately.  And I really am tired.  I guess I'm just overreacting to this..."

"No you're not.  You're reacting perfectly rationally.  What Jon said hurt you.  You're processing it.  But you have to move past it, Cate.  Quickly."

"Yeah.  I know.  I'm trying.  But I just... I just can't stand everybody.... pitying me.  And now I'm gonna have to spend the rest of the night getting these sympathetic little smiles and pats on the arm and everybody being all extra-nice to me."

"Yeah, you are.  And that sucks.  But Cate, it is what it is."  Danny chuckled.  "You've put up with worse."

Cate smiled wanly.  "Yeah, yeah.  I know."

"Listen.  Jon didn't do it on purpose.  He's half in the bag.  I'm sure it was just an old habit.  He was married to Dorothea a long time, you know.  And when he's looking out at all those old familiar faces..."

"Uh huh."  Cate sighed resignedly.  "Hell, I don't even think he realized it happened.  He just kept grinning and drinking."

"Well okay then.  You're letting him off the hook, so do the same for yourself."  Danny chuckled before issuing a half-playful command.  "Now cut the pity-party shit and get back out there!  Show those fancy-schmancy rockstar-hanger-on fuckers who the real Wife is!"

His order made Cate giggle.  She smiled gratefully though he couldn't see her.  God, she was glad he had come to her rescue.

"Alright.  I will.  And you... get back to Charity.  I'm sure she's ready to have you all to herself for a few days.  She missed you."

"I know.  It's been a long couple months since that R-and-R in Rio..."  Danny chuckled dirtily as he referenced his wife's trip to meet him in Brazil for a week's vacation in the middle of his assignment.  "She says she's got somethin' new to show me."

"Well then." Cate laughed softly.  "What the fuck are you still doing on the phone?"

Danny's reply was gentle.  "Just making sure you're okay, Slick."

Her heart melted.

"Thanks.  Somehow you always know when I need you."

"I got your back."

"Me too."  Cate smiled.  "Welcome home, Danny."

"Thanks.  Now get out there.  And tell Jon I said Happy Birthday."

"I will.  Love ya, Bro."

"You too."

Cate lowered the phone from her ear and closed the connection.  Again her gaze found her reflection, and she smiled.  Danny was right, as usual.  She had to let it go, move forward with the evening.  This was a celebration, one she was entitled to enjoy as much as the Guest of Honor.

"Okay," Cate breathed to herself.  She carefully patted at her hair, ensuring not a wisp was out of place, before re-applying her lipstick.  After a dainty swipe of perfume on her neck she clipped her purse shut and stood.  Turning before the mirror, Cate smoothed her blue satin skirt, then put on a gentle smile.

Better.

Cate heard the visitor's entrance before she saw it.  A sudden swell of music and chatter poured through the open door, then quickly ceased as the portal shut.  A small smile still ghosting her lips, Cate turned toward the door.

"Oh!  Uh...Cate..."  Stephanie gave her Stepmother an awkward smile. 

Cate ignored the little twinge in her stomach as she easily read the girl's poorly-disguised intent.  Steph had obviously come to check on her. 

"Hey."

"I... um..." Stephanie giggled nervously.  "I figured I better dash in here ahead of the crowd."  She raised her hand to wave a tiny clutch purse.  "You know... Flo..."  Her voice trailed off with her half-hearted excuse.

Cate nodded, her smile softening though again her heart squeezed.  Unfortunately, she did fully understand the sometimes urgent needs of the menstrual cycle.  "Yeah, I know."  She tipped her head toward the door.  "They still going out there?"

"Yeah.  The Sinatra guy's really good."  Stephanie's answer was more sincere as her blonde curls bobbed with her nod.

"Does he still have Jon onstage?"

"Nah.  Dad escaped after that one song.  It was pretty cute."  Stephanie giggled again.  "Now he's wandering around the tables, talking to everybody.  Again."

Cate let out a soft breath.  Good.  Though she was sure Jon had noticed her absence from the table, hopefully he wouldn't be concerned.  She didn't want to face him just yet, until she had a little better handle on her disappointment.

"Okay.  Well..." Cate took a step toward the door.  "I guess I should get back."

Stephanie nodded and moved away from the door, clearing the path.  When Cate stepped up beside her, Stephanie reached for her stepmother's hand.  Cate paused, a little surprised by the contact.

"Cate..."  Stephanie's voice was softly pleading.  "Daddy's a little drunk, you know.  I don't think..."  She hesitated.

Cate stared at Jon's daughter for a beat, taken aback by her half-apology.  Then she gave the girl a grateful smile and a little nod.

"I know, Steph.  It's okay."

"Please don't be mad at him.  Or at Mom."

Cate covered Stephanie's hand with her own and gave it a little pat.  "I'm not."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it... I mean, to upset you."

Cate sighed softly, then brightened her smile.  "Stephanie, it's okay.  I'm not upset."

"Are you sure?"

Cate renewed her fib with another nod.  "I'm sure.  Jon was married to your Mom for a long time.  I'm sure it was just..."  She suddenly lost the will to continue her reassurance.  She sighed softly again.

Stephanie finished the thought for her.  "Force of habit?"

"Yeah."  Cate chuckled huskily.  "Old habits die hard."  She gave Stephanie's hand another pat.  "I'm okay, Steph.  But thanks."

"Well... okay."  Stephanie breathed her own little relieved sigh.  "I'm glad."  She pulled her hand from Cate's and smiled awkwardly.  "Well, umm.... I oughta..."

"Go."  Cate smiled and tipped her head toward the bathroom stalls.  "Mother Nature waits for no woman."  She took a step forward and reached for the door handle.  "I'll see you out there, okay?"

" 'Kay."

Cate nodded her agreement, took a deep breath, and squared her shoulders.  Then she tugged, re-opening the portal to the celebration.

*****

Jon couldn't feel his face, though he was reasonably sure it was still stretched into a wide grin.  His entire head was comfortably warm and abuzz with wine and contentment.  He raised his glass to take another sip of the sweet pale nectar.

He was pretty sure tomorrow morning was going to hurt.  But right now he didn't care.  It was his birthday, he was surrounded by loyal friends and doting family.  Everyone he loved was here, celebrating his charmed life.  And he was going to be damned sure he told every single person in this grand room how much he loved and appreciated them.  

After all, life is too short.

Jon swiveled his head to survey the proximate clusters of partygoers.  Yep, he had already expressed his gratitude at length to everyone standing nearby, and then some.  Jon took another sip of wine as he craned his neck to look beyond his immediate circle.  There were so many great people here... so many memories to share.  Surely he hadn't thanked everyone yet.

Jon's gaze lingered on Dorothea, who was engaged in animated conversation with Mimi and Sister Mary.  He chuckled.  They were undoubtedly hatching another scheme to do good for the less fortunate.  Charitable work had always been Dorothea's passion, one she still actively pursued on her own and with her ex-husband's Foundation.  That was one of the things Jon had always admired about her, her drive to help people.

After watching the trio for a second, Jon's mouth relaxed to a thoughtful half-frown.  There was someone at this party to whom he had barely spoken tonight.  His bright azure gaze drifted away from the Charitable Women, scanning the room.

Not immediately finding the face among the crowd, Jon turned to expand his field of vision.  He again raised his glass, taking the last swallow of tepid wine.  Jon momentarily dropped his eyes to the glass to confirm his sensory suspicion that his glass was empty.  Well, that wouldn't do. 

Glancing around for the usually-hovering waiter who had kept his glass filled throughout the evening, Jon frowned.  Not immediately spying young Dominic, he shrugged.  Apparently he'd have to get this refill himself.

He turned toward the bar, wobbling a bit with the movement.  Jon chuckled, renewing his silent prediction that tomorrow would likely bring a little misery.  But he was having too damned much fun to let that slow him down tonight.  

As he weaved his way toward the bar Jon was distracted by several comments and well-wishes, to which he gladly stopped to respond.  Finally he found a clear path between his location and the source of his desired spirit.  Jon's grin widened when he spied not only a black-tied bartender who would surely refill his glass, but the other person he sought.  She was sitting primly on a high-backed barstool, a half-empty glass of crimson liquid before her.

Jon half-swaggered, half-swayed toward his wife, his blue eyes sparkling and his lips twisted in an affectionate smirk.  Sensing the approach, Cate turned on her barstool to identify the visitor.  She smiled amusedly when she spied her very tipsy husband.

"There you are!"  Not waiting for her response Jon wobbled close to Cate, leaning in to cover his mouth with hers.  Cate let out a startled Mmmmph! then giggled against his kiss.  She pulled back, separating their lips with a soft smack.

"You've-a been hiding from me!"  Jon half-slurred his playful admonishment, wagging a finger at his bemused wife before reaching past her to set his wine glass clumsily next to hers on the bar.

"No I haven't," Cate argued mildly.  "I've been right here for the last half-hour.  In plain sight."  She reached up to wipe a trace of bronze lipstick from Jon's flushed cheek.  "Hmmm.  Not my shade," she observed playfully.

"Yeah, there's been alotta kissin',"  Jon countered with a wry grin.  "Thass prolly Davey's."

Cate snorted a soft laugh at his cheerful comeback.  "I hardly think so."

" 'Kay, mebbe not."  Jon shrugged.  "It's my birthday.  Girls wanna kiss me, so I let 'em."

"Well, okay,"  Cate gave her husband a gentle smirk.  "I guess, since it's your birthday, I'll let you off the hook this time."

"You can kiss me in the car aaallllll the way home."  Jon grinned and waggled his eyebrows.  "And then summore AT home."

"Oh yeah?"  Cate chuckled as Jon captured her hand and pulled it against his chest.  "Mmm.  We'll see if you're in any shape to be kissed by the time I pour you into the car at the end of the night."

"Baby, you know I will be."  Jon gave Cate a sexy lopsided grin as his voice dropped to a seductive growl.  "I'ma gonna take you home and get you outta that pretty blue dress...."  He chuckled huskily and leaned in closer to Cate's ear.  "An' I'ma gonna love you all night long, Baby.  'Til the sun comes up." 

He pulled back enough to give her a saucy wink.  "An' I might even sing that song you like for you."

"Oh?  And which one would that be?"  Cate curled her fingers against the soft cotton of Jon's dress shirt, curving her hand lightly over his firm pectoral muscle.  She smiled at his drunken silliness.  Jon would undoubtedly serenade her, but she was confident he wouldn't see the sunrise.

"You know."  Jon leaned in again, rasping sexily in her ear.  When I look in your eyes... I can feel the fire..."

Cate felt her cheeks heat as her body automatically responded.  She chortled quietly when Jon pulled back and gave her a smug grin.

"Well if you promise to sing for me... I think we can work something out."

Jon pulled her hand from his chest to his lips, pressing a kiss against her palm.  "Think I can promise that... For my gorgeous, sexy, naked Wife."

Cate's heart squeezed painfully at his endearment, though the sensation was immediately followed by a wave of shame.  Why the fuck was she still letting this bother her?  Was she now going to cringe every time Jon called her his wife?

She hid her reaction with a tease.  "Who says I'll be naked?"

"Ohhhhh, Right!"  Jon nodded and winked again.  "Yeah, leave the stockin's ON, Baby.  Thass fuckin' hot."  His sentiment was more comical than sexy, delivered in his boozy half-slur.

It made Cate laugh, chasing away her veiled melancholy.  As silly as he sounded, it was clear from Jon's amorous attention that he had eyes only for her.  So let it GO, she silently reminded herself again.

"Okay, I'll leave them on, if that's what you want.  The heels too?"

"Fuck yeah."  Jon grinned and leaned forward, touching his forehead against Cate's.  "But we canna go home yet.  Party's still goin'.  You wanna dance?"

Cate giggled softly.  "You sure you're in shape to dance?  You've had a little bit of wine tonight."

"So you can lead.  Or hold me up.  Or whatever."  Jon pulled his face back and turned his head toward the bar.  His empty glass had been stealthily replaced by a fresh, full one.  "And here's a little bit more of wine."  He grinned and reached for the drink.

"Okay, Baby.  But let's wait for a slow song to dance to," Cate agreed.  "You might hurt yourself if we do anything too fast."

"Hey!  I got moves!"

"Yeah, but you don't wanna break a hip or something."  Cate couldn't resist the playful barb about Jon's age.  "You can't be too careful now that you're eligible for AARP membership."

"Ha ha.  Fuck that,"  Jon replied sarcastically.  "Baby, you know I gotsa-tha moves ofa teenager.  And the stamina too."  He gave Cate's neck a little nuzzle to underscore his salacious point.

"Yeah, you do," Cate admitted with a happy little sigh.  "No complaints here."

"Good."

"But let's still wait for a slow song, okay?"

" 'Kay Baby.  S'Better anyway.  To hold you."  Jon grinned again before taking a sip of wine.  He swiveled his head toward the stage, focusing his attention on "Frank" and his orchestra.  "This-un's almos' over anyway."

Cate smiled and lifted her own glass, taking another tiny sip of the red wine she had been nursing for the past half-hour.  She had not intended to drink tonight, but after she found herself on this emotional rollercoaster she had given in to temptation. 

She felt Jon's weight shift against her as he turned to watch the stage, fitting himself into the little space between Cate's perch and the next high-backed bar chair.  She chuckled as she realized she probably would need to steady him on the dance floor.

When the song ended Cate and Jon applauded with the crowd.  The orchestra started an uptempo prelude to the next song as Cate swiveled her seat, preparing to dismount.  Jon wobbled away from his perch and stood, holding out his hand, waiting to help her off the barstool.  Cate was just ready to reach for his hand when she heard his name.

"So folks, whaddya think?  Should we get the Birthday Boy up here again to sing one with the ol' Chairman of the Board?"  The Sinatra impersonator's voice bounced across the room, garnering a cheering response.  On stage, "Frank" raised a hand to shield his eyes from the stage lights' glare, searching the room for his mark.  "Johnny, you out there?"

Jon looked at Cate and grinned.  "We were gonna dance, but..."

Cate chuckled and leaned against the backrest of her barstool.  "I think  you're being called out, Baby."

"I can say no, ya know."

"Do you want to sing?"  Cate could see in Jon's sparkling blue eyes that the challenge was welcome.

"Nah... It's my party.  I don' hafta sing if I don' wanna."  Jon smirked.

Cate snorted softly.  "Oh, please. You know you want to.  So go."  She tipped her head toward the stage.  "After all, this is the closest you'll get to singing with Frank."

Jon hesitated for a moment, then leaned in to plant a somewhat sloppy kiss on Cate's cheek.  "Be back in a minute," he promised.  "Love ya, Baby."

Cate giggled, certain "a minute" would stretch into a half-hour.  But her heart warmed at the beaming grin on her husband's flushed face.  "Take your time.  I'm not going anywhere."

Jon nodded and took a swig from his wine glass before raising his hand in acknowledgement of "Frank's" call.  "Yo!  I'm ovah HEAH!" Jon bellowed out in an exaggerated accent.  With a spring in his step and surprisingly true balance Jon strutted toward the side of the stage and climbed the steps, to a round of loud cheers and whistles.  He accepted the microphone from the Crooner then stood grinning, awaiting a cue.

"So, you think you can sing this stuff, Sonny?"

"I know I can sing this stuff."  Jon grinned cockily at the crowd and puffed out his chest.

"Well then let's go."  "Frank" didn't hesitate, cueing the orchestra.

Cate sighed softly and reached for her wine glass, then settled back to enjoy the show.

*****

"Jon... Jonny..."  Cate gasped as she slid her mouth aside, freeing it from Jon's ravenous lips.  She sucked in a breath, her chest expanding against Jon's hard pecs as he held her pinned to wall with his body.  "We... let's... let's go... to the bedroom..."  She couldn't strangle a gutteral groan as Jon's mouth devoured her neck.  She tipped her chin further upward.

"We could jus' do it righhere..."  Jon's slur was also a breathy pant.  "Youalike the wall..."  He leaned harder against her, pressing his pelvis more urgently to her hips.

Cate gasped out a little chuckle.  "Baby... I don't think you're in... in any condition... OH!"  Cate squeaked as Jon yanked up her skirt and snapped the back strap of her garter.  The sting of the elastic against her bare thigh was electrifying.

"Ohhhh I'm ina condition... all right...."  Jon half-laughed, half slurred his sly response.  "I's needs some help for mah condition..."

"Then let's go to the bedroom, Baby."  Cate moaned softly as Jon grabbed the back of her thigh, hitching it up to his hip before roughly shoving his fingers inside her panties and curving his hand around her buttock.  "You... you need to lay down before... before you... fall down."  She arched her back a bit more, fully aroused by Jon's aggressive foreplay.

"So don' lemme fall down."  Jon chortled dirtily.

"But Baby... I can do so much more... more to you.. in... there."  Cate wobbled a bit on her one-legged stance as Jon tilted a little to the right.  Her high-heeled pump didn't provide much in the way of a stable platform to support her weight, let alone his.

"Mmmm...." Jon considered her proposition for a moment as he dragged his tongue up the column of her throat.  He chuckled evilly at the little gasp the sensation elicited.  "M'okay.  Youcando anythin' you wan' to me.. Iss my birthday!"

Cate giggled and moved her hand to pry Jon's grip off her glute.  She carefully lowered her foot to the floor, bracing herself before she gently pushed against Jon's weight.  He wobbled a bit, but she helped him steady himself before moving. 

Slipping an arm around Jon's waist, Cate guided him down the darkened hallway to their bedroom door.  Twice their progress was delayed when Jon pushed her up against the wall and kissed her thoroughly, pawing at her breast with a dirty chortle.  Miraculously, their transit caused only minor destruction, one framed print crashing to the floor with a dull crunch. 

Finally Cate stopped Jon at the side of their bed.  She giggled when he again wrapped her in a tight embrace and roughly claimed her mouth.  As the kiss became more heated Jon wobbled, bumping against the edge of the mattress before losing his balance and falling sideways on the bed, pulling Cate with him.

"See!  I told you you'd better lay down!"  Cate admonished through her laughter.  She allowed him to kiss her once more, then struggled out of his arms.  Pushing herself up to sit, Cate brushed a long lock of copper hair away from her face.  Her stylish hairdo was now wrecked, thanks to her horny husband's amorous advances during the car ride back to the apartment.

"Yeeeaaaaahhhhh..." Jon groaned out a sigh.  "Think I's better down here."  He stuck out his lower lip and blew a long breath of air upward, puffing his shaggy bangs away from his forehead.  He raised a hand to scratch at his belly, then lowered it to tug at his untucked shirttail.  "Gettitoff..." he grumbled.

"Oh, you Big Baby..." Cate chortled as she reached to undo the last three fastened buttons on Jon's dress shirt.  He had removed his tie earlier in the night and had dropped his suit jacket at the front door, but had not completely succeeded in undressing during their passionate trek through the apartment.  "There.  Better?"  She couldn't resist giving Jon's flat belly a little tickle.

"Stoppit!" Jon whined, squirming away from her touch.  "No tickle!"  He swatted at Cate's hand, capturing it when he felt her fingers under his.  He grinned lecherously and pressed her hand downward, over his fly. " 'Cept there."

Cate giggled and gave Jon's crotch a gentle squeeze.  "Tell you what, Baby.  Let me get out of this dress, then I'll come back and tickle you some more."

"MmmmKay."  Jon released Cate's hand and let his own hand fall limply on his bare abdomen.  He rolled his head to the side and let his eyes close, his mouth still curved into a grin.  "S'prise me."

Cate shook her head at Jon's silliness, then sighed.  She rose from the bed and paused, considering whether she should ask Jon to unzip her dress before she journeyed to her closet to hang it up for the night. 

She watched as Jon's hand slid down his belly to tug at his belt, attempting to unfasten it solo.  Cate chuckled with the realization that Jon probably wasn't even capable of undressing himself right now, let alone her.  With another bemused shake of her head she strolled around the bed and toward her closet.

"Baby... don' fughet.  Leave your stockin'son." Jon reminded her urgently as she moved. 

Cate smirked, his previous request already noted.  She intended to shed only her dress and her bra, then leave the rest to Jon.  The foreplay would be delicious.  Not that she really needed any more... she was already revved up and ready to go, her panties thoroughly dampened and her nipples aching for his  mouth.

The thought made her move faster.  Cate trotted into her closet, reaching behind her neck before she even stopped in front of the three-way mirror.  She grimaced as her fingers scrambled over the back seam in search of the tiny zipper pull hidden in the satin.  When she finally found it, she pushed the zipper down as far as she could before having to change tactics and reach behind her waist and up her back.

"Dammit!" Cate growled as she felt across her back, searching for the zip.  She could feel the air on her skin where the fabric had already parted, but she couldn't quite reach high enough to grasp the metal tab.  As she stretched she turned in front of the mirror, trying to get a visual of the spot she sought.  She wobbled a bit on her heels as she turned further with her stretch, the zipper still eluding her fingertips.

"Baaaaaybeeee.... My pants're offfff...."  Jon's voice came lilting through the closet door, heightening the urgency of Cate's struggle.

With another frustrated growl Cate kicked off first one shoe then the other, stabilizing her stance.  Again she reached up, contorting her arm and her upper body as she tried again to undo the zipper.  Unsuccessful a second time, Cate blew out a breath.  Maybe she should try another tactic.

Dropping her hands to the hem of her skirt, Cate gathered the dark blue fabric into her hands and tugged upward.  The dress slithered up her thighs, exposing her stockings, garters, and bare flesh.  But then the curve-hugging garment would move no further, still bound by the lower portion of the closed zipper.

"MotherFUCKER!" Cate cursed, stomping over to the wardrobe in the corner.  She had some sort of gadget somewhere, one that she had on occasion used to zip herself into evening gowns when Jon wasn't around.  If it worked going up, it must work coming down, too.

Rummaging through the drawer, Cate flung aside several useless doodads before finding the tong-like device.  With a little snort of triumph Cate hurried back to the mirror and turned half-sideways to spy the view of her back.   She again curled her arm behind her back, gripping the zipper gadget firmly and angling it upward.

After a few attempts to snatch the zipper pull in the arms, Cate finally succeeded.  She yanked downward on the zipper, letting out another little triumphant growl when it rasped all the way to its bottom.

Now thoroughly horny, Cate yanked her arms from the bodice and shoved the dress down over her hips.  She abandoned her original intention to hang the satin garment before bedtime, not wanting to waste any more time.  She swiftly stripped off her slip, unclasped her brassiere and flung it aside, then crouched to set her black patent pumps upright.  Cate quickly stood and stepped into her shoes, then turned toward the mirror.

She looked sexy as hell, her creamy skin sharply accented by the sheer black of her seamed nylons and banded by the black satiny straps of her garters.  The elegant lace garter belt stretched across her trim hips, curving high enough to reveal the matching lacy triangle that covered her crotch.  Her dusky nipples were peaked and quivering, fully aroused atop rosy-flushed breasts.  Long, thick strands of mahogany wisped from the wildly tousled remains of her beehivish updo. 

Cate smirked at herself as she pictured Jon's reaction.  He may be drunk as an Irishman on Saint Patty's Day, but she was certain his response would be primal.

Turning away from the mirror, Cate strode quickly to the closet's entry.  She paused there for a second to take a breath and put on a sexy smile.  Then she turned the corner and sashayed slowly across the bedroom, rolling her hips with all the brazen confidence of a streetwalker.

"Alright, Baby.  You ready to really celebrate your birthday?"  Cate's purr was husky and sensual.

The reply was a raspy snore.