Surrender to Love (Night Calls)

by J.C. Valentine

  “Thanks,” she said amicably. She flipped her long hair over her shoulder, eliminating the soft, silken screen obstructing his view of shapely shoulders covered in perfect alabaster skin. “I’m Patti,” she said, turning in her chair and offering him her hand.

  He took her delicate hand in his and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “It’s a pleasure, Patti. I’m Jon.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jon.”

  “Definitely.” They smiled at one another, lost in each other’s eyes, until the bartender returning with the drinks broke the spell. “It’s on me,” he told him, then waved him away. Jon would come back to make his order after he was through with Patti.

  “Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that.”

  Jon helped her gather up her drinks, holding them hostage to keep her around a little longer. “I wanted to,” he said, casually slipping his hand around her tiny waist to guide her through the crowd. She smiled up at him, her pale green eyes sparkling beneath the strobe lights.

  She led him to a round table surrounded by several women, one of whom was very much pregnant. Patti bent to unload the drinks and smiling faces turned to greet her. Their expressions turned curious when they took notice of him hovering behind her.

  “Okay, girls, I believe I got everyone.” Patti slapped her hands together, then jumped around when she remembered he was still there. “Oh! My bad. Forgot the beer.” She snatched the drink from his hands and took a long swallow.

  All eyes were on him, and Jon shifted uncomfortably. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” asked the one that looked like she was about to rupture amniotic fluid at any moment.

  He watched as Patti’s chest rose and fell, a nervous laugh escaping her as she set her drink on the table. “Piper, Poppy, Jules, Sheila, Lynn,” she said, pointing her finger at each of them. “This is Jon. Jon, this is Lynn, Sheila, Jules, Poppy, and Piper. Thanks for buying the drinks and helping me carry them,” she said quickly. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

  She plunked down in her chair, effectively dismissing him, but Jon had other ideas. “Hi,” he said, stepping forward with his hand out. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  The one named Piper took his hand in hers, her face bright. “Hey, I didn’t recognize you at first. Must be the lighting,” she said brightly, waving her hand at the colored lights hanging overhead. “You grew up with Tate. I’m his wife, Piper. We met in Vegas at the convention.”

  Jon’s smile grew in recognition. “That’s right. I remember you now. Wow,” he said, looking down at her swollen abdomen. “You guys didn’t waste any time. When are you due?”

  She laughed, running her palm over her stomach lovingly. “About five weeks left to go.”

  “And Tate let you out of the house?” he asked, stunned. If she were his wife, he wouldn’t let her within an arm’s reach of a club. They were too unpredictable, too unsafe, too everything.

  “I don’t think I gave him much of a choice,” she said with a giggle.

  “She threatened to serve his balls to him on a silver platter,” Poppy leaned in and shouted. “Hey, Jon. How’s it going?”

  He nodded to her. “It’s going. Where’s Felix tonight?”

  Her eyes clouded over and she sat back, her hand reaching out to fiddle with her drink. “At home, I imagine.”

  Jon’s brows rose at the coldness of her tone, but he didn’t bother to follow up. He was there to have a good time, not be drawn into female drama.

  “So wait,” the one across from him, Sheila, said with her palms facing out in front of her. “You two know each other?”

  “They work for me,” Jon said, making a swiping motion with his finger at Poppy and Piper.

  “And how do you know Patti?”

  “Oh, he doesn’t. We just met up at the bar,” Patti explained.

  “You work fast, huh?” Sheila remarked, waggling her eyebrows suggestively at him.

  He shrugged. “What can I say, when I see something I like…” He trailed off meaningfully. Patti’s eyes lifted from the table and he caught them, holding her trapped in his gaze for one long, intense moment. He wanted her to know he was interested, and judging by the flush of her cheeks, she’d heard him loud and clear.

  His smile fell when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around his neck.

  “Hey, baby, I was wondering where you disappeared to. What are you doing all the way over here?”

  Patti glanced over her shoulder at the sound of feminine voices. It took her a second to assess the situation, and he watched as her nose scrunched in disgust. When her eyes slid back to him, she wore a blank expression and for some reason, that put a knot in his stomach.

  Jon turned his head and found himself looking at two sets of annoyed eyes. “I was just getting ready to head back.” He patted the arm wrapped around his neck and she took the hint, releasing him and moving back a step. “Why don’t you go order the drinks for me and I’ll catch up in a minute?” He gave his dates a small, encouraging smile, hoping they’d leave quickly.

  They did, reluctantly. He watched them go, his mind turning over how to explain what had just happened. He couldn’t come up with a damn thing. Hoping to appear nonchalant, he turned back to the table, the heat from the women’s eyes threatening to scorch him. The only one who wasn’t looking at him was Patti. He swallowed tightly. “I should get back,” he said slowly. “To my, uh…”

  “Friends?” Patti asked pleasantly, though the look she turned on him made him feel like the biggest dick who ever existed.

  “Right, friends,” he said regretfully. Standing, he cast a friendly smile around the table, but the only one he was really interested in seeing it was the woman who refused to look up at him. “Have a good evening, ladies.” With nothing left to say that wouldn’t make him look worse than he already did, he moved through the crush of dancers to find his dates.

  ***

  “Oh, right there, daddy,” the blonde moaned, tugging on his hair. “That feels so good.”

  Call him crazy, but there was just something about being called someone’s father that turned him off, especially considering the things he was doing to her. Jon plunged ahead anyway, pounding into her as he tried to shrug off his sudden disinterest. It wasn’t working.

  “Come over here,” he grunted, motioning the brunette over to the bed. She climbed on, crawling seductively on her knees until she sat poised in front of him. She looked up at him with heavy, lust-filled eyes awaiting his next command. “Give me your mouth.”

  She did, leaning into him and running her fingers down his chest. He sucked on her tongue, focusing on the low, throaty moans of both of the women. He stopped pumping his hips as he plunged two fingers into the brunette’s wet pussy, focusing all of his attention on her. She gasped into his mouth, throwing herself deeper into the kiss. Beneath him, the blonde began rocking her hips, dragging her tight sheath up and down his hard shaft.

  This wasn’t working. He was trying to concentrate on what he was doing to the women in his bed, but every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was the disappointment on Patti’s face. It ate at him, making him desperate. He didn’t want to feel this way, like it mattered what someone else thought.

  No, not just someone.

  Her.

  He felt his cock begin to soften and he jerked his hips back, unsheathing himself to the blonde’s great displeasure.

  “Where are you going?” she whined, staring up at him with her legs still spread wide for his viewing pleasure. “Get back here.”

  Brunette slapped her questing hand away. “You’ve already had your turn, Mandy.” She grabbed his cock, now only half-erect, and frowned. “What’s the matter, baby? Mandy’s pussy not tight enough for you?” She smiled wickedly, giving him a couple good tugs that he had to admit felt pretty damn good. Maybe there was some hope for him yet.

  With renewed hope, Jon combed her hair back from her face and knotted it up in his fist, yanking her head bac
k to let her know that he was still the one in charge here. “Why don’t you get down there and give it a little kiss?” he suggested, and nipped her bottom lip.

  Dropping down on all fours, Jon guided her with his hand still twisted in the hair at the base of her neck, and growled as he watched her swallow him down. The kind of things women were able to do with just their mouths never ceased to amaze him. It was almost better than being balls deep in their tight little bodies, but not quite. Nothing compared to that sweet heaven.

  Only this time, to Jon’s absolute frustration, it wasn’t working. The more she licked and sucked his cock, the more the bastard seemed to retreat. He gave her a few more minutes just to see if anything would happen, growing tense with aggravation when it didn’t. “Enough,” he growled, giving her hair a sharp tug.

  Ripping off the condom, he jumped off the bed and tossed it into the trash. He felt the scowl on his face and didn’t try to hide it.

  “You’re done?” the brunette asked him incredulously. “But we didn’t even get to fuck.” Again with the disappointment. He couldn’t stand it!

  Jon took a moment to breathe and reign in his temper, clasping his hands on the back of his head and staring up at the ceiling. What was the matter with him? This had never happened before. Maybe his mother was right. Maybe screwing your way through half the female population would make his dick shrivel up and fall off. Glancing down at the member in question, he was relieved to see that it was still very much present and intact.

  “Are you coming back to bed?” one of the women asked.

  Digging his fingers into his hair, Jon gave it a sharp pull then dropped his hands to his sides. “Not yet,” he told them as he crossed the room and sat his naked ass in a chair positioned in the corner. “How about you two play for a bit while I watch.”

  Their eyes lit up with excitement at his suggestion, and he watched them with alarming disinterest as the blonde opened her legs and her friend leaned in to bury her face in her slick, pink folds.

  Didn’t do a thing for him.

  Normally, in a situation like this, Jon would be right in the middle of it all, fucking pussy while watching pussy getting eaten, or eating it himself. This whole damn thing just didn’t sit right with him.

  As he hit the back of his head against the wall with a thud, Jon closed his eyes and was immediately presented with Patti’s soft, round face. Wet sounds and constant moaning filled his ears, and Jon used the sensory stimulation to fuel his fantasy. He thought of Patti’s curvy body, her full breasts, and her smiling face, and then stripped her of all her clothes, placing her beneath him.

  He tried to picture what she would feel like, how she would smell and taste, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to line up the details in his head. It was like trying to watch a movie with half the scenes deleted. He didn’t know anything about her, and he supposed that was part of the problem.

  Still, he did his best, allowing the vague images to grow and adapt to his surroundings. He used the sounds of heavy breathing and the groans of an impending orgasm to stir him back to life, and when his cock began to throb, bobbing heavily between his thighs, he wrapped his fingers around it and tightened them into a fist.

  “Ah, shit,” he breathed, pumping his hand up and down. On the bed, one of the women started growing louder, telling the other one to fuck her harder. He used her words to fuel his fire, and pumped his fist harder. Patti’s pale blue eyes stared back at him behind his closed lids, and when he heard the unmistakable shriek of a woman succumbing to pleasure, he tumbled over the edge with her, shooting hot streams of come all over the back of his hand and on his stomach.

  He laid there for a while—a lump of useless flesh sprawled out in a chair that wasn’t made for sprawling, and knew he was in trouble.

  4

  Patti glanced at the clock on the back of her stove and cursed low under her breath. She was running late! After snatching her purse and phone from the coffee table, she spent several more minutes combing the couch cushions and crawling around on the floor in search of her car keys. After finally finding them next to the toaster on the kitchen counter, she raced out the door with little time to spare.

  Thankfully, it was Sunday and a lot of people, like her mother, were either still in bed or sitting in a church pew. On this day in particular, she knew exactly where her mother would be.

  “Good morning, Momma,” she said solemnly, pressing the phone to her ear as she drove down the open highway.

  Her mother sounded tired and withdrawn, which worried her a little. “Good morning, sweetie.”

  “How are you?” Patti asked, concerned.

  “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I’m more worried about you. Are you still insisting on going up there?”

  Patti’s jaw clenched. Every year her mother asked her the same question, and every year her answer remained the same. “There’s nowhere else I’d be,” she responded. She guessed they had both fallen into somewhat of a pattern over the years, and to be perfectly honest, it was somewhat comforting. Patterns were good. They were predictable. She didn’t have to guess what was coming next, which was exactly what appealed to her most.

  Her mother sighed sadly. “I wish you’d let it go, sweetie. I don’t know what you expect to find there.”

  “I don’t expect to find anything, Momma. It’s just something I need to do.”

  There was a beat of silence, where Patti drummed her fingers on the steering wheel while she waited for her mother to come up with some excuse to keep her away. To her surprise, she didn’t. “Okay,” her mother breathed in resignation. “Just make sure to take your mace and be aware of your surroundings.”

  Patti rolled her eyes because her mother was such a worrywart, but she couldn’t help smiling because it also meant her mother cared. “Sure, Momma. Got it right here in my purse.” She patted the black bag resting beside her in the passenger seat. Although, she wasn’t sure how handy it would be for where she was headed.

  “Make sure to keep it on your person, Patti,” her mother scolded gently. “You won’t have time to go digging for it if some crazy person decides to attack you.”

  Turning off the main road, she steered the car through a pair of tall iron gates. She had to work to push away the intense feeling of sorrow that spilled over her. “I have to go now, Momma,” she said in a garbled whisper.

  When her mother responded, her voice was as strangled as hers. “Okay, sweetie. Be careful and…” She paused and took a deep breath. “And say hello for me.”

  “Okay, Momma, I will.” Tucking her phone back in her purse, Patti followed the long and winding path to her destination, coming to a slow stop just under a large maple tree standing like a silent sentinel over the grounds and its many residents.

  Patti stepped out of the car, taking in the expansive rolling green lawn, inhaling the sweet smell of freshly cut grass and soaking in the absolute quiet that came with being in a place like this. As she stood there, building up the courage to move forward, a cool breeze gusted up, weaving its fingers through her hair, and gave her a gentle nudge forward. Her feet carried her through the damp grasses to the spot that made her body tremble with grief, yet provided her with a tremendous amount of comfort.

  Dropping to her knees in front of the cold, hard stone that reflected her stricken image back at her, she reached out a trembling hand and traced the etched lettering. “Hi, Daddy.”

  ***

  Patti’s heart held a dull ache as she set herself back on the road and glanced in her rearview mirror at the retreating graveyard. She always felt a marked sadness when she left there, as though she were turning her back on her father. She knew that was ludicrous. It wasn’t as if he were really there, but even four years after he’d passed, she couldn’t seem to wrap her head around the fact that he was really gone.

  Hoping to tune out the dark thoughts, Patti started up her favorite CD and scanned to the song that never failed to brighten her day. She blazed a
path down the highway, the GTO growling fiercely as she fed it a little more gas. When her exit appeared in the distance, her good mood deflated a bit, but she turned up the stereo, determined to hold onto it a while longer.

  The line at the red light crept forward as the cars in front of her took turns pausing and going. When it was her turn, Patti continued to belt out lyrics along with David Coverdale as she turned her head to assess the oncoming traffic. Her foot had just left the brake when something slammed into the back of her. The force of the collision drove her body forward, and the lack of air bags ensured that she got a nice split in her lip when she face-planted the steering wheel. She moaned as she dropped her head back against the seat.

  “Shit, are you okay?” The sound of a man’s voice shouted outside her window a moment later, carrying over the blare of music and penetrating the fog as Patti lifted her head and touched her fingers to her swollen mouth. They came back red, and seeing the damage, the man’s eyes rounded and he wrenched her door open. He was in her face before she could blink an eye. “Here, let me take a look.”

  Dazed, Patti showed no reaction at all, not even an increase in heart rate at finding herself face-to-face with Jon. One would think, after witnessing such a beefcake walk away with a couple of bimbos on stilts for legs, she wouldn’t have remembered such a minor detail as a name, if only out of need for self-preservation. But no, Patti remembered everything about him. Why, oh why, did she always go for the uber sexy player-type? It must be a mental deficiency of some sort. It certainly wasn’t genetic, considering her mother’s obvious good taste in men.

  So, here she was feeling as if someone had attempted to punch her teeth down her throat, and all she could manage to do was stare at the beautiful man kneeling before her. As he inspected her face, she soaked in every detail of his. With the benefit of natural sunlight, she could see that his eyes were much more than the muted light color she’d observed in the darkness of the club, but were a gorgeous shade of aqua framed by thick, dark lashes. Short, dark hair turned nearly black by hair product teased his forehead, which was now marred by tiny furrows of worry. She could feel the tension radiating from him and she could see it in the firm set of his smooth, square jaw and the tight line of his full, very kissable lips.