Two Minute Warning

... By Hathor

He peers out from under heavy, sweaty hair, his eyes skewering me to the spot. "You sure you want to go here with me, darlin'?"

"Hell, yeah," was the breathy response.

His tongue peeks out from between sweet, full lips as he watches me slowly unbutton my shirt. Those blue eyes darken as I slowly drop the garment to the floor.

His eyes narrow but don't stray from mine as he peels the soppng wet shirt from his body. With a lion's intensity, he stalks closer to me, his unwavering gaze making me just a little fearful of what comes next. He grabs hold of my bra and uses it to pull me to him. When I slam up against his muscled chest, he spins me to the wall and presses that mouth to my throat. I am helpless under his touch.

My hands reach for the laces of the sexy pants he's wearing and pull. They loosen enough for me to reach in to grasp the velvet-covered steel inside.

With a gasp, Jon yanks my skirt up and tears away my panties. I am more than ready for him. With a muffled curse, he yanks at his pants. Sweat and leather don't play well together.

I chuckle, making him scowl. I helped him drag the leather down far enough to free his shaft. He drives into me with one forceful thrust, and I muffle a scream against his neck. He pounds into me, and I'm sure whoever's on the other side of this wall knows exactly what is going on. We race each other to release, mouths fused together, hands roaming across sweaty, sticky skin.

When the knock comes, although we knew it was coming, it startled us. A disembodied voice calls out, "Mr. Bon Jovi, Mr. Sambora is nearly done with his song. You've got two minutes."

We smiled at each other, and our mouths came together once more.