It had to be a dream. I was pretty sure it was a dream, except it felt so real that I couldn't tell. I was at a café in New Orleans, a small, bustling, busy café on an unfamiliar corner. Sitting across from me was my mom. Regina, not Donna. She was talking to me, her mouth the same shape as mine and her voice the same octave as mine and her hair sporting the same curls and waves as mine. The similarity was eerie. It seemed exaggerated, like it wasn't really Regina but another version of me.

"So, when you're ready, we can go," she said. Cheerful. Smiling. Nodding. It was like staring into a mirror, so creepy. I shivered, the fine hair on my arms standing on end.

"Go where?"

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Home, silly girl. Remember? I came to take you home."

I shook my head, my forehead creasing, I'm sure, with mounting frustration and confusion. "I'm on my way to LA, to live with JC. You met JC, remember?" I looked around the cafe, my head whipping from one side to another. Where was JC? Why was Regina in New Orleans?

She sighed, her patience obviously wearing thin. She stood up, grabbed my forearm and pulled me up. We were the exact same height, for some reason. Odd because I was taller than Regina.

"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped."You can't move to LA."

I insisted, pulling away from her. "I am moving to LA. I already have a job. Where's JC?"

Regina was pulling me toward the door, gripping my arm, ranting all the way. "I'm not entertaining this fantasy, Serena. It's time to go. I've come to get you and take you home."

"No!" I resisted, but it was futile. She was strong and pulling me alongside her. I began to scream, but no one seemed to be paying attention-the patrons in the quaint French bistro sat and drank their demitasse cups of coffee and read the paper, seated around intimately close tables where they told jokes and ate Beignets. No one seemed to notice that I was being forced out of the door.

Regina turned, staring me dead in the eye. "I don't have time for this bullshit. Why would you think you were going to LA? Who wants you, in LA? What's there for you, in LA?" Her eyes, carbon copies of my grey ones, narrowed sharply, her tongue spitting fire. She wrenched my arm and I yelped out in pain, but it wasn't nearly as bad as the heartache I was feeling at the words she was saying. "Nothing! No one! He doesn't love you. He won't be there for you. He'll never marry you and he'll never have kids with you! You're a fucking idiot if you believe that bullshit and you know it. You don't belong with him. You're going home! Now stop acting stupid and let's go!"

I opened my mouth and screamed at the top of my lungs. Someone had to hear me. I banged on tables and kicked at patrons who seemed to be completely oblivious, as if she were a mother with an unruly child. Almost like they couldn't even see us. How could they not see us? I was making a giant spectacle of us!

"I don't believe you! I'm not going! NO!"

I thought I caught the eye of a passerby on the street as she dragged out of the door of the café. "Sir! Help me! I'm being kidnapped! I don't want to go with her! Sir! Help me! Please help me!"  The passerby glanced very quickly, looked us both over and walked right by. I kept screaming at him but he was deaf to my outburst.

We had reached the street, where a run-down town car sat at the intersection. Regina popped the latch on the passenger side and attempted to push me inside the car. I fought her like my life depended on it, kicking and screaming the whole way. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him. Standing outside the cafe, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets and watching the entire scene, was JC.

Sweet relief. He would come for me. He would save me! I lunged around Regina, hoping he could see and hear me. "JC! Baby! Please help me! I don't want to go with her! Please! Help me!"

JC stood in place, a mere hundred feet away, the expression on his face blank and unfeeling. Unmoved. Unemotional. I was too shocked to keep fighting. Regina took the upperhand, shoved me into the car and slammed the door shut. I yanked at the latch, but it wouldn't open. The window wouldn't roll down. I was trapped in the car, banging on the windows, screaming wildly.

"JC! Help me! Please help me! JC! JC! Help me!"

He hadn't moved, still leaned against the dark stone building, calm and casual. Then he seemed to inhale a deep breath, his shoulders shrugging, and pushed himself off the wall. He turned around and walked into the café alone. And didn't look back.

My heart broke, watching him walk into that café. Why didn't he save me? Why didn't he help me? Why was I being forced to leave with Regina? Why couldn't I stay?

"Serena."  

The voice wasn't Regina's but it was behind me. I panicked and started pounding the windows, the doors, the seats, anything with my fists, screaming as loudly as I could. If JC could see us, then maybe someone else could see us and hear me. I screamed and punched and cried.

And then I felt it. Strength. Incredible strength, gripping my wrists and pinning me down. I heard the voice in my ear, that wasn't Regina's. It was deep and strong and melodic and familiar, but I was freaking out at being held down. I kicked and flapped around, trying to get loose. A hand wrenched free and a fist landed heavily.

"Fuck! Serena! Wake up!"

The voice was close, so close I felt breath on my neck. Weight on my body. Skin on my skin. Regina had disappeared. It was dark. Pitch black. Hot as hell, the air so thick and warm I could barely breathe. The car was gone. I was in bed, a hulking figure above me, panting, grunting with effort to hold my arms and legs down.  

"Wake up, Serena. Wake up!"

"I'm up! Let go of me!" I screamed, thrashing. "Let me go!"

A hot breath huffed over my face and suddenly my arms and legs were free. The figure disappeared. Light illuminated the room. A hotel room. Our hotel room, in New Orleans.

I shot up, wheezing and heaving and sucking in air, squinting against the bright light. My eyes rolled across the familiar scene: our suitcases in the corner and the newspaper on the table and JC's shoes under a chair. My chest hurt from breathing so hard, but I found enough breath to heave a deep sigh as I realized it had been a dream. A really, really bad dream.

 "What the hell were you dreaming about?"  I was almost surprised to see JC sitting next to me, catching his breath, his brows knit closely together, concern and confusion swirling in his eyes.

I didn't remember, at first, what the hell I was dreaming about. In seconds, though, the terrifying episode repeated itself in my mind and I shuddered.

"Regina!" I blurted. "Shit. It was Regina. But like a weird version of Regina. She was too much like me. She was me, maybe. And she was taking me away. She said I had to go, and I didn't want to go."

"You were screaming like someone was trying to kill you. And punching and kicking." He gingerly tapped a red mark on his temple, wincing as he ran his fingers over it. The welt was ugly and red, marring his handsome face and starting to swell. If ever I had wished for a deep, dark hole to sink into, it was then and there.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry," I whispered, a hand flying over my mouth. "I'm so embarrassed. I'm so sorry."

He grimaced. "You should consider a career in boxing. Or start a fight club. You got a mean right hook there, baby."

I reached for him but he weaved away from me. Understandably. "Do you want some ice for it?" I moved to get out of the bed, but he grabbed my arm, that familiar iron grip wrapped around my wrist.

"No, no. Sweetie. I'm fine. It's fine." He pulled me toward him as he scooted back down in the bed and laid down. "Come here, my pretty little prize fighter. Relax. Tell me about this dream."

I was still shaking from the sheer terror of being ripped from a place that was very comfortable and unceremoniously shoved into a hot, locked car. I didn't understand the things that were said about JC and moving to LA and whether or not I was an idiot to believe that JC could and did love me, that he could and did want a future with me, that he could and did intend to bring me to LA. I didn't understand why JC would not come to my rescue in my dream, why he turned and walked away when I so obviously needed his help.

I let myself be pulled into his arms and laid down, my head on his chest, his heartbeat thumping through his rib cage and into my ear. His arms closed around me, surrounding me in comfort and strength, calm and familiarity, reminding me of what I was being wrenched away from, against my will. I shuddered at the thought. Almost couldn't stand it. And didn't want to relive it.

"It was scary, and it sucked."

"Obviously. What was it about?"

"I don't want to say. I mean, I told you. This weird, way-too-much-like-me version of Regina came to get me and said I had to go home. It was like all the times she would come around when I was a kid. I used to have nightmares about her coming to get me."

"So she was like, what, kidnapping you?"

"Something like that," I mumbled into his skin, my eyes beginning to droop, again. "She said it was time to go home. And I said I was moving to LA with you and she said, ‘don't be stupid'. And then-"

"Wait, she said that? Don't be stupid? What's that mean?"

"I don't really know. She said things like there wasn't anything for me in LA, and that it was stupid to think I'd actually be moving there and that no one loved me and that you..." I gulped back the words. I didn't think I could say it and even if I could, I didn't want the words to leave my mouth. JC seemed to understand, soothing me with a gentle hand rubbing up and down my arm. I kissed him his chest, and tightened my arm around him.

"It was a dream, honey," he said. Quiet. Calm. The way only he could say things, direct and to the point but in a way that plucked my heart strings. "I'm here and you're here and in a few days you will be in LA. And I do love you. There's lots there, just waiting for you. You know that, right?"

I nodded, my cheek rubbing against his chest. "Yeah. I know."

"Was I there? In your dream? You were calling for me. Yelling for me to help you."  I nodded. "And I didn't help you?" 

I shook my head.

"Hmm," he responded, bringing his arm around me tighter. "So, why do you think you had that dream? What's going on inside on inside your head?" He stretched to plant his lips on my forehead. A hand cupped my chin, stroking from my chin to my neck and shoulder and back up.

I didn't answer. I wasn't going to get away with that, but it delayed the inevitable.  JC pushed, as I knew he would. "You think maybe you scared yourself? You know, about the kids thing?"

"Maybe."  

"Mmmhmm. And now you're freaked out and telling yourself lies about us."

"Maybe."  

"Just maybe? I think definitely." Of course he did. JC was intuitive. Sometimes about all the right things.

"Maybe."

The room was quiet for a good, long while. Even the ceiling fan whirring above us spun in silence. I could tell by JC's breathing and occasional swallowing that he was awake. I was tired-exhausted, actually-but not sleepy yet. I sat up and turned over, my back to JC, more of an attempt to go back to sleep than an invitation to slide close to me, but I hoped he would, anyway. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe deeply and relax.

"You're full of shit, you know," I heard from behind me. Softly, quietly, sleepily, but audibly. An eyebrow lifted but I didn't turn around again.

"Pardon?"

"You heard me. You rail on me to let you into my world but you keep me arm's length all the time. You're so scared about something that you're having nightmares but you won't talk to me. You want to know everything about me and what I'm thinking and feeling and going through but you're too scared to do the same for me. What's good for the goose, and all that stuff, you know?"

I was way too tired and emotionally spent for this deep of a conversation. I reached for my phone on the nightstand to check the time. 3:54am. Yeah. Too early-or late- for this conversation.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, JC. I guess we can talk tomorrow about what a shitty girlfriend I am."

A heavy, frustrated sigh sounded from behind me. "I didn't say you were a shitty girlfriend. You're the best girlfriend I've ever had."

Hmm? I'm full of shit, but also the best girlfriend he's ever had?  A confession that should have filled my heart with joy was making my mind a blur. JC was all kinds of confusing, lately.

He flipped to his side and slid next to me, his warmth right up against me, his hand on my thigh and slowly climbing upward, pushing my night shirt up and over my hip. His palm was wide and warm, crawling my skin, heading straight for my breast like a heat seeking missile. He cupped it, his thumb flicking over a hardening nipple. Pavlovian response, at least I wanted to think it was. He moved closer and balanced his chin on my shoulder, his mouth so close to my ear I could feel his breath.

"What are you scared of, Serena? Talk to me."

"I don't know," I said, not really thinking. "It's lame, and I know that and it's not an answer but I don't know. I'm just scared. I wish I could be like you and be so sure of everything and so sure of us and so nonchalant. I wish I could just bring things up all weird and out of place and not worry that you think I'm trying to tie you down. I wish I could let myself think about it and not freak out because I'm too happy."

"Hmmm," he said, again. "You know what? I think I'm a better actor than you take me for. You think I'm not scared?"

"Oh, spare me. It's so much easier to be the man, a rich and famous one at that. Just be handsome and sexy and mysterious and girls come running. You have your pick of them. So tell me, JC. What do you have to be afraid of?"

JC's thumb was relentless in its tease and flick and roll. I was trying my hardest not to shudder at the sensation but I was going to lose that battle quickly. "You tell me and I'll tell you," he whispered, following up with a press of his lips to my neck and a rumbling moan from his chest.

"I already said I don't know. You go first."

His tongue lapped at my neck before he pulled his lips away. He scooted closer to me, firmly right up against me. I felt him in the small of my back, pressed between us, heat radiating through his briefs and my thin nightshirt.

"I'm doing a lot to try to appease a new set of suits. I'm doing things differently, trying to take a different approach. What if I release an album and it sinks like a brick? Then I'll know that it wasn't Jive, and it wasn't poor promotion, and it wasn't Justin. The common denominator, the only constant in both scenarios, is me. What do you think that means?"

That scared me, too but I'd never admit it. Not out loud. JC was on such a good turn lately. He didn't need a disappointment that big.  

"And how about I met this great girl that I wanted to be with and get to know. I opened up to her, more than I opened up to anyone before. I'm doing things differently than I did before. I never tried before, because it was too hard. I just went with the flow until she got sick of my shit. I'm trying, with her. This thing, this relationship we have is real, a living thing. She's everything I ever thought I might want. A best friend I can't keep my hands off of. She pumps me up, I calm her down. She gets me, and I get her. I rock her world-"

He tweaked my nipple and flicked it, hard. That shudder I was holding back? Couldn't, anymore. He rotated his hips and ground himself into me, the heat almost making me sweat. "She heats me up, like no one else. But maybe, even after all of this trying and doing things differently, and finding what I didn't even know I was looking for, things will end up the same way they always do."

"JC-"

"I know. You say you're not going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere, and you're not going anywhere, but we can't talk about not going anywhere. Maybe I was wrong to be so casual in bringing it up, but if we're really not going anywhere, maybe we could start talking about it. It seems like the one topic I can't get you to talk about."

"Okay, this is the thing, JC. You make me out to be the bad guy, and I'm full of shit, but you sat on my couch in Atlanta and told me you didn't want to get married.  You said you weren't proposing to me and I said that was okay. And I meant that. But then you started dropping hints. Taking me to your house in Florida, where you told me you wanted your kids to grow up, and telling me today that I get to mentor our daughters. You're playing with my emotions. You're making me want it, which is shitty, because when I bring it up, you'll get scared and act like I'm crazy and remind me that you said you didn't want to get married. It's okay to talk about our future, as long as it's your idea and you're the one bringing it up. This ain't my first time at the rodeo, JC. I'm good at this game, so don't fucking play me."

After a long beat of silence, JC uttered two words I love to hear, but didn't, very often. "Mkay. You're right."

"Damn right, I'm right."

He chuckled and flicked. "Don't get cocky, now. You're still full of shit."

"I know," I admitted quietly. "I try not to be, but it's the only way to be sometimes. I don't know if I can take you seriously when you randomly say things. I feel like the choice is all up to you, what happens to us. I don't like feeling like I don't have a say."

"What do you mean, you don't have a say? Am I not asking you for your input right now?"

"I don't mean it that way, JC." I turned and flipped to my back, JC at my side. His hand left my breast and traveled down to stroke the skin across my abdomen, rubbing in circles and moving lower. "I mean that you have your whole future planned out. And you want to fit me into it. And that's cool. But what makes you think your plan is my plan? What makes you think I want to move to Florida in five years? What makes you think I want girls and not boys? What makes you think I'm ready to marry you? What makes you think I'm ready to talk about marrying you?"

JC was quiet. Breathing. Contemplating. I hoped not getting upset.  "You never said you wanted to talk about something different. So you don't want to talk about us at all, then?"   

"I didn't say that, but when we do, I don't want you to assume I want the same thing you want. Or tell me what I will want to do or what I'm going to do. I had a Five Year Plan before I met you. What do I do with what I planned for my own future? I should throw that away because you're famous and sexy and you mutter some sweet words about things ‘way, far off in the future' that I may or may not get to be a part of?"

"What do you mean, may or may not get to be a part of?"

"Can you promise me, without any hesitation, that five years from now, we'll still be together?"

A halting breath later, I tossed up my hands. JC huffed and fell back against the pillow, a hand over his eyes. I was sympathetic to his frustration. It was about time he got a taste of what I was going through.

"I guess...I guess I'm scared of buying into something that might not happen. It's not a guarantee, and I hate that. We could plan and talk and dream big and break up in nine months. I need to be sure. I need you to be sure." I shook my head, staring at the ceiling fan spinning in endless revolution. Sort of like this conversation. I willed it to end before we hurt each other's feelings.

"Okay." He sat up again, leaning over me on one elbow. "So, I get all of that. You're crazy, but I get it. And I guess I didn't think I was being confusing. I thought I was being clear and communicating with you that maybe I changed my mind. I've been thinking about it, a lot. I'm not getting any younger and my career is slowing down. I love you. And like you said back then, the idea doesn't suck."

"It doesn't suck at all. And I love you too. It just takes more than that, you know that. You loved your other girlfriends. So, when it's time for that, we can talk about how much it won't suck to be married to you. But let's be honest, JC. We are a ways off from being able to talk about making that kind of a commitment to each other. At least, like you said, I don't know if I'm ready for that. Remember what we decided? You're not ready to ask, and I'm not ready to answer?"

"We didn't decide that. You said that. I just went along with it. I was scared of your dad. It sounded good at the time." He leaned over me and kissed me and when I opened my eyes again, he was smiling. "Maybe I'm getting close to being ready to ask."

I closed my eyes and tried to calm my heart, which was beating out of control. I was lightheaded and found it hard to breathe. If only it were so easy to fall over that cliff of bliss and ride off into the sunset with him.

"If you're close today, think how close you'll be six months from now. A year from now. You're in such a big damn hurry. If we're really not going anywhere, maybe we can talk about it when we can make it seven days without a fight. We don't even live together yet, and-"

JC interrupted with laughter. While I loved the sound, I hated that he was laughing at me and not with me. "You're trying so hard to be logical about this. It's not that complicated, honey. So you're not ready right now. When will you be ready?"

I shook my head and shrugged a shoulder. "I wish I could answer that for you."

"I wish you could, too. How long do you think I can sit in limbo, waiting for you to be less scared?"

My eyes shot open, wide open. "That sounds like an ultimatum."

"Maybe it is one."

"I hope you're joking. We're a couple weeks over our one year anniversary and you're leveling ultimatums? You really think you're that lovable, don't you? You can't imagine why I wouldn't just jump at the chance to be Mrs. Chasez and give birth to a brood of boys that look just like you, can you?"

"Our poor girls. You forgot them," he shot back, his face full of amusement.  Despite the seriousness of the conversation, the mood lightened considerably. His lips brushed my forehead and he smiled that thin, straight line Alfred E Neumann grin that I loved.

"It's not an ultimatum," he said softly. "I didn't mean it that way. Take your time. I want you to be sure, too. I'll be here."

I laughed and shook both fists at him. "Ugh, you just said-"

He stopped me from talking with an urgent press of his mouth to mine. "Would you stop believing everything I say? You don't want to talk about it, I don't either. I'm frustrated. I'm saying things to make this better. Except I meant it when I said I'd be here. I'll be here."

"Fine," I said. "I'll never believe another word you say, except that right there."

"And I love you. Believe those words, too. And that dream? Not meaningless. You know what it means." He gave a pat to my belly and then rubbed it in circles. "Moving on. You feeling better? No more sick stomach?"

I nodded, the episode of the night before almost forgotten. I tried not to blush, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over me. "I hate that I threw up in front of you."

"Why? It's a bodily function. It has a purpose. I do all sorts of stuff in front of you."

"I know. But you're a boy. Boys do that."

"Honey, I am a man. Do I need to show you that?"

I giggled, my laughter bubbling up and over as he nuzzled my neck and nipped across my shoulder. My hands found their way up his arms and over his shoulders and around to his back as he rolled over me and settled his weight onto me. I sighed, as usual, at the welcome feeling and wrapped my legs around his waist. I needed that.

"You could show me a thing or two, if you wanted."

"You sure?"  His words were muffled by my lips kissing and biting his. "You said you didn't feel good."

"Mmmhmm, you seem very concerned about if I feel good or not."

"Well. You seem to feel good. Want me to stop?"

My arms and legs tightened around him, bringing him closer to me, holding him up against me. "I feel very good. Keep going. Please."

JC's moans and groans turned to light sighs and whimpers. His lips danced along my skin as he moved from my shoulders to my chest, taking first one erect, sensitive nipple and then the other into his mouth. His tongue was warm, its texture rough, the sensation sending shock waves through my body and making my hips roll up and into him.

"Yeah," he said, breathing deeply. "Need you."

"I'm here."

His tongue left my breasts and traveled further down, licking a long, wet streak between them and down my midsection. He moved further and further down until he was lying between my legs. His eyes open wide, he watched me as he closed his mouth over me, his tongue warm and wet, that same rough texture stroking and pulling and sucking and playing. My hips bucked and rolled and lifted up off of the bed. JC pulled me to him, strengthening his assault.

"Holy fuck, that's good, baby."

JC eyes fluttered open and he seemed to smile at me with them. I laughed, and then shuddered as the first waves of orgasm built in the pit of my stomach. I begged him, pleaded with him not to stop. He moaned in response, the vibration only helping the wave travel up my back to the fine hairs at the nape of my neck and back down to my toes. My fingers digging into his hair, my hips pumping wildly in rhythm and response to his tongue.

"OhhmyGod that's so good. I'm gonna come!" 

He moaned, working his tongue faster, if that was even possible, and slid a finger inside me. And then another, working them in and out, driving me higher, so high I thought I might pass out before I came.

The most delicious feeling rocked my entire body. I heard a loud yelp, and then realized that it came from me. I didn't realize that I was going to be so vocal, but I couldn't help it. I clenched and convulsed, my hips jerking and the shock waves emanating from my core to the tip of my head and the soles of my feet, curling my toes, taking my breath away.

JC finally released me, crawled his way back up my body along the same path and hovered, smiling and watching me pant and heave, glistening with sweat and trying to come down. When I could gather some strength I lifted my arms to him and brought him to me, crushing his lips with mine, battling with his tongue, feeling his moans and groans seep into me.

I pushed him over so that he was on his back. He knew what was coming, and was ready for it, legs open, eyes open, his grin a mile wide.

"It's been awhile, since I did this for you."

He nodded. "We don't do condoms anymore. You have that special way of putting them on. And I'm too impatient."

"That's no excuse. I should have done this for you last night, but-"

"Hey," he interrupted. "Don't apologize. Less talking to me. More blowing me."

I laughed and leaned over him, brushing a few kisses across velvety, warm, firm lips before moving down to the dip in his neck and his chest. I scratched lightly, my tongue following the path my nails dragged through the patches of hair, along his skin to his belly. I laid wet kisses along his stomach, past his belly button, along the thin line of hair that went beyond the band of his briefs.

I felt him through the thin cotton, hot and pulsing and nearly busting out the constricting fabric, I traced him from head to base and back down again, taking my time, nipping through the cloth. JC groaned above me, his hands already curled up in my hair.

"These have to come off," I said, giving the briefs a tug. He lifted his hips and I pulled them off and tossed them over the side of the bed. "Mmmm... Hi there," I cooed, almost moaning, breathing heavily at the sight of him-an erect, thick column of flesh and muscle, the head bulbous and glistening.

I took my time with him. I wanted to make it last, to make it good for him. I needed to make up for being such an unstable, bitchy person lately. Or for being so afraid to admit I wanted a future with him. Or that I had such a hard time believing he would give me that and more, whatever I wanted. Or maybe just to thank him for his patience and for loving me enough to stick with me. I wasn't sure that if the shoe were on the other foot, that I'd be so patient, so wise, so understanding. I tried to show him my heart and my feelings for him in a way that he would understand and that if he held on a little longer, things would work out. I'd feel what he wanted me to feel and be sure. Completely sure. I hoped he was getting the message.

I tried to watch him as I worked him, my tongue riding, mouth sucking, hands gripping his girth and working their own magic but it was hard to concentrate on him and watch him at the same time. I devoted my attention to bringing him to the edge of climax, and then helping him fall over it. It wasn't a slow build, like for me. His climax took a matter of minutes to build, marked by a flurry of hip thrusts and deep breaths sucked in through clenched teeth. Guttural moans and groans reached my ears, delighting them. I smiled as I released him and watched him sink against his thigh, and then as he'd done for me, crawled up his body the way I crawled down, laying kisses along the way until I hovered above him.

JC was smiling, big and wide. His eyelids were closed, his skin pink, a thin sheen of sweat pooling above his lip. I ran my hands along his mouth and forehead, wiping the sweat away and dipped my head to kiss him, tasting the salty flavor of his skin.

"That was fucking fantastic," he mumbled, smiling, through my kiss. I hummed in agreement but didn't stop. "Felt so good. You know me so well."

I laughed and stopped kissing him long enough to say, "Shut up, I'm trying to kiss you."

"Mean," he grumbled, and then kissed me back, his mouth open and tongue stroking mine, his chest rumbling with his appreciative moans. He grabbed my hips and lowered them to his body, forcing me to lie on top of him. Happily, I obliged, enjoying the long, drawn out, lazy, leisurely kiss. We hardly took time to just kiss anymore and it was almost my favorite thing to do with him.

A few minutes later, JC rolled us so that we were on our sides, facing each other, limbs intertwined. I stared up at him and he stared down at me and we said nothing. I loved when we didn't have to open our mouths to say what needed to be said. I stroked his face with my palm. He cupped my face with his. He moved in, his face close to mine, our lips and noses almost touching.

"I should have turned the lights out before I got comfortable." His eyes closed, the orbs dancing from behind the lids.

"I'll get it. Stay there." I sat up and crawled over him, snapping off the lamp and dousing the room in darkness again. I crawled back over the lump in the bed and laid back down next to him. His arm slid across my waist and he leaned in to kiss me.

"I love you," he said, his tongue thick and his voice gritty. "I'm sorry for pushing. I don't want to lose you. I just want a plan. It's just the way I am."

I nodded vigorously, but then remembered he couldn't see it in the dark and with his eyes closed, so I responded with a squeeze to the heavy arm tossed over me. "I love you, too. And I'm trying not to be freaked out your need to plan. We haven't even fully entered the moving to LA step and the starting a new job step and the getting used to another coast step. You want me to think about something that's so much daydream and imagination right now. I get that you want know what to prepare for. This move is just still a big fucking deal, right now."

"And in my mind, we're there and I'm ready to move on to what's beyond that. I guess I forgot, since I'm not the one moving."

He laughed and then sucked in a deep breath and let out a loud, lion-like yawn. "Tired as shit. Some girl woke me up screaming my name and not in the good way. We're still having sex tomorrow, right?"

"I think I made up for waking you up. And it's today, babe."

"Even better," he said quietly. Then his breathing changed. I just shook my head. The man could sleep on cue.

It was going to take a bit longer for me to clear my head and fall asleep again. Remnants of my dream bobbed to the surface of my memory, the pieces snapping together like a jigsaw puzzle. The Regina in my dream was me, the half of me that I was at war with. The half of me that kept me confused and afraid and unable to have these conversations with a man I loved. And, just like in my dream, JC couldn't heal that part of me. He couldn't save me from myself and if I didn't get myself figured out- kill that other half-he'd most definitely walk away.

***

I woke up to feet in my face. Long, thankfully clean, feet. In my face.

The room was bright with what could not have been morning sun filtering through the curtains. It had to be early afternoon. My eyes opened and immediately squinted shut and then opened again.  I heard light tapping, and saw a glint of sunlight reflecting off of a computer screen. JC lay on his stomach, on top of the sheets and thin blanket, facing the TV and tapping away at his MacBook. Muscular, pale, hairy legs were crossed at the ankles and pushed up under the set of pillows on the opposite side of the bed.

I poked a hand out from under the sheet and pinched the pad of his big toe. He jerked and moved his foot away.

 "It's about time you woke up. I said we could sleep in, not sleep all day."

I stretched, my body elongating next to him as I rolled to my back. "I had a long night. You're one to talk, about sleeping all day."  I glanced at his feet and laughed, tickling the bottom of them until he swung his legs out of my reach. "God, your feet are huge."

"I had a long night, too. And you know what they say about big feet." He snickered, rolling to his side, a playful, sexy smile on his lips. He was still naked, hair deliciously tousled and more than a five o clock shadow growing on his face. I decided to ask him not to shave again for a few days.

"I do know what they say. They wear big shoes." I sat up and threw the sheet back, swinging my legs to the floor. As soon as I stood up, I felt something touching me. I turned around to find that giant toe of his poking my ass.

"Where you going? I thought we were gonna, you know, get busy."

"To the bathroom. To brush my teeth and my hair and wash up a little. Get all sexy for you. When I come back, be all sexy for me, okay?"

He looked himself up and down, appearing confused. "Already done."

I giggled and walked around the corner to the bathroom. "Cocky bastard."

"You know it!" I heard the laptop chime to indicate it was turning off and the lid close before I shut the door behind me. I breezed through my morning routine, finding my hair entirely more cooperative than the morning before. While brushing my teeth, I mentally gave myself a little pep talk in the mirror.  

‘You will not bring up last night whatsoever. You will smile and be cheerful and happy. You will make this day fun and stop being so fucking serious and stop freaking out. You will relax and you will enjoy every single moment of today. Starting now.'

 "You coming?" I heard through the door, just as I had put my toothbrush away. I watched a slow smile crawl across my face and the flush of arousal take over. I turned the knob and stepped out of the room.

"Not yet but I hope I will be, soon."

The sight of JC almost took my breath away, his pale skin and dark hair against cream colored sheets, a mountain of pillows behind him. He was patiently waiting for me, a small, but expectant smile on his lips and his eyes a piercing blue with bright flecks of green. I paused for a quick moment to pull my nightshirt over my head and felt something hard bounce off of my chest and fall to the ground. I tossed the thin shirt across the room and looked down and laughed at the strand of aquamarine beads at my feet.

"You're so hilarious." I wound them into loops and slipped them over my head, and then crawled into bed next to him, facing the headboard so I could see his face. "Hey, sexy. Did you sleep well?"

"Hey, yourself. I did," he answered. "I was trying to be quiet, so you could sleep. And, you know, gather your strength."

"I appreciate that. You won't regret it."

"Hope not. Come here. Come lay down." He patted the empty spot next to him, the one that was conveniently located in my favorite place to be, the crook of his arm, where the arm met the shoulder. It was where I laid and pressed up against him, my head on his shoulder and a leg between his, listening to his heart beat. He would curl an arm behind me and over my hip. It was my special place. I felt comfortable and safe there.

I took my spot and the expected arm came around me, gripping my waist. I sighed, smiling into his chest. I loved the scent of him, the warmth of him, the taste of him as I indulged in a quick lick.

"You okay?"

I smiled and stretched up to him, brushing my lips against his, softly at first and then applying more pressure. He sighed into my mouth as he opened his. His tongue played with mine at first, and then he took over the kiss, sucking and licking and rolling us so he was on top.

I felt the groan rumble from the pit of his stomach, up and out of him. It was accompanied by a slow, sensuous body roll that made my every nerve ending tingle. I was shaking, almost shuddering in response to his movements, the sensation of his lips on my skin as he dipped to lick and kiss his favorite spot. My hands were pressed flat against his back, riding the ripple of muscle as he moved over me, pressed into me.

"Love you," he breathed onto me, into my neck and shoulder, following his kisses with a long, slow, wet lick. "Want you. Right now."

I was a little bit delirious already, but not so out of my mind that I would have said anything crazy, like "no". Sex with JC hadn't been slow and sensual in a while. We had to purposely slow down and take it easy, sometimes.

My body arched up to his, as if being separated from his was painful torture. I needed to be close to him, skin on skin, from head to toe. His mouth found mine again and he spent a few long moments caressing my tongue, stroking, sucking, licking my lips.

"What do you want?" He said, between kisses. "What can I do for you?"

"Touch me. I like when you touch me. Everywhere. Your hands... just touch me."

He did as I asked with an appreciative groan, moving to the side a little so he could have full access. The tips of his fingers slid across my skin, light as air. I shivered from the feeling, every nerve ending in my body standing on end. He started at my neck and moved down the center of my chest to my belly, rubbing back and forth and around and around. The warmth from his skin both comforted me and set me on edge. The feeling was so incredible that I almost couldn't stand it, but almost couldn't stand him to stop.

His other hand worked their way north, playing with a taut, stiff, angry red nipple. "I like when they stand straight up like that." He laughed a little before he took one into his mouth and worked it with his tongue, pulling and flicking. My body responded involuntarily-back arching, hips rolling, moan after moan escaping my throat.

"You like that? Is it good?"

"So fucking good. I love that. I love it so much. Don't stop."

"Mkay," he mumbled, the other nipple already in his mouth. "I love your body. You know that?"

"We're even. I love yours."

"Mmm, you showed me, last night. Loved that. You'll show me some more?"

"Try and stop me."  A grunt escaped his throat. He moved so he was on top of me again, ran each hand down a thigh and hooked his hands behind my knees. My legs wrapped around him, trapping his body close to mine.

"This is the best part of you and me. I mean, not in an all about sex way, but how we connect. It's so good."

"It never felt this way, before. Sex was never like it is with you. I like that. And I want it."

"You want it? Right now? You ready?"

"Mmhmmm...please?"

"Well," he said, in a silly voice, rolling his eyes up at me.  "I'm afraid, missy, that you have to wait for a little while. I have more touching to do."

"Damn, I did ask for touching, huh?"

"You did, and I said I would, and I keep my promises." He began a slow slide down, stopping at my neck, licking at my nipples, licking a wet streak down the center of my body until he had reached the most sensitive of places. And then he sat up.

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't tease me, anymore."

His smile was impish, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight. "I don't remember agreeing to that."

"Don't... don't be mean," I said, pleading as he picked up my leg and set it on his shoulder, and then began a slow trail of kisses down my leg, to the inside of my thigh, until he was almost... and then he sat up again. "UGH! I knew you were gonna do that!"

"Gotta be fair. It's important to be fair, honey."

He did the same with the other leg, moving slower, this time. Past my knee, sucking the inside of my thigh, working his way down, slowly and surely. I panted and writhed and begged and pleaded and when I could take the torture no more, reached down and grabbed his head and put it where I wanted him to be.

"Ooh, forceful. I like that."

I started to respond but it was lost in a chorus of moans as his tongue hit its mark and never stopped moving. He varied his suction from light to hard and back to light again. His hands, warm and damp with sweat, wrapped around my thighs and he held on for the ride as my hips bucked and rolled.

"Ahh.... Shit! That's so good. Right there. Don't stop. Please...don't... stop..."

For once, he did as I asked and didn't stop, not even when my body convulsed violently and my hips jerked sharply and I almost bit a hole in my lip from trying not to scream. I shuddered and shivered from head to toe, covered in goosebumps, my skin a deep, dark crimson. JC stayed there, watching me long after I came down and my breathing returned to normal, and my skin was only pink and my skin was smooth again and not prickled with goosebumps.

Calmly and slowly, he made his way back up. I felt him between us, his hand guiding himself into me, filling me in one long slow stroke. My legs locked behind his back, my hips arched to meet him, my arms threw themselves around him.

JC buried his face in my neck and, using just his hips, began to move inside me. Not fast, but not slow. Steady, Constant. Building. It wasn't about the speed or the intensity, just the sensation and the sheer amount of contact between us. He worked his hips, moaning sounds of pleasure into the space between my neck and shoulder. My body worked with his, rolling and undulating, following his lead, his strength, his intensity, his power. 

"Fuck, you feel good. How do you feel so good?"

"God, I don't know, but please don't stop."

JC took that as some kind of challenge and sped his hips, literally pounding himself against me. Our bodies smacked together in wet, sultry concert. The heat of the day and the activity was creating pools of sweat on our bodies, on the sheets, in our hair. A rivulet of sweat ran down the side of JC's face, ruddy with heat and effort, dripping onto my chest. I loved it, every drop.

"I'm gonna come again," I said, in more of a whimper than I anticipated. "I want you to come with me. You close?"

"Yessssssssss." His eyes were closed and his body worked, his veins bulging so fat, I thought they might pop if he didn't find relief soon. "So close. Soooo close."

Determined to bring JC over the edge with me, I gripped a cheek in each hand and arched my hips up to him, working him while he worked me. He muttered something, and let out a series of grunts, timed with his movements, each one louder and faster than the one before. He was trembling, shaking, breathing heavily.

"I think you're gonna beat me. I wanna come with you so bad."

Well that wouldn't be fair. Not in JC's world. At the last moment, he dipped his head and flicked a nipple and then sucked it into his mouth, playing with the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. An electric shock coursed through me, causing a chain reaction- the jerk of my hips, the full body shudder, the clenching of muscles at my core.

JC inhaled sharply and held his breath as he moved, thrusting hard over and over again, until he let out a long, deep, satisfied sigh and slowly sank onto me. He was soaking wet-we both were, as if we'd been standing out in the rain. His chest seemed tight with his heavy breathing and coughing. I held him while he laid on me, relishing the feel of his body weight on mine. I dragged my nails through his damp hair and wiped away the sweat from his brow and his shoulders while his breathing calmed down and there were no sounds from him but light sighs and the occasional moan.

"Did you make it?" He mumbled from the space between my breasts. "I couldn't tell."

I grinned down at the top of his head. "Yeah. I made it. Thank you for helping."

"Mmmhmm...never let it be said that JC Chasez doesn't know how to get the job done."

"I don't think that could ever be said, honey. Not ever. You always get the job done."

After a few minutes of quiet, JC rolled to his side and scooted up in the bed, snuggled up close to me. I rolled to my side to face him, watching his face change from satisfied to tired to sleepy. His eyelids drooped as he fought to keep them open and his lips started to poke out like they did when he slept, in a cute little pout. His eyelids fluttered closed. He fought to open them again until I giggled and held them closed.

"Go to sleep. You earned a nap."

He mumbled something, and then asked, "What time's it?"

"I don't care."

"Well. We should probably leave the room today. Shouldn't we?"

"Nah," I answered. "You sleep. I'll get us some food. And then we'll do whatever the hell we want to do. Because we're on vacation."

He didn't open his eyes, but he smiled, big and wide. "See. I'm rubbing off on you."

"Yeah. I like it when that happens." I kissed him and ran my fingers through his hair one last time. "Go to sleep. I love you."

He mumbled something back, something I took for, "Love you, too" and slipped away. I watched him for a few minutes, his chest rising and falling with long, deep breaths, his signature pout in place, eyes clamped shut, long lush lashes against creamy skin.

Inside, I breathed a tiny sigh of relief. If the day's activity was any indication, I hadn't yet screwed myself out of a boyfriend and a chance at once-in-a-lifetime happiness. Now to do this, everyday, for the rest of my life. Oh my God.

***

While JC slept, I showered and dressed and slipped quietly out of the room, in search of food. Considering the night before, I thought it would be best if we played it safe, so I stopped in at the storefront pizza kitchen a few doors down from the hotel and a few minutes later was heading back to the room with a large pie and a six pack of Pepsi.

The TV was on when I swiped my card and entered the room again.

"You didn't sleep that long," I said to JC as I passed the bed. I set the large box and beverages on the table.

"Phone call," he said, holding up the phone that was still in his hand. He was sitting up, his back against the headboard, sheet gathered around his waist. He looked like he could sleep for a few more hours. "How do you feel about heading back tomorrow? Would you be mad?"

My head popped up at that. Not that I cared either way, but something must have happened for JC to abruptly decide to head back to LA. I figured we'd hang out in New Orleans until we either couldn't stand each other or couldn't stand the city.

"What's up? I mean, if you want to go back, I'm cool. But is anything wrong?"

"Meeting in a couple days. That festival I told you about? They want to meet. Hear some songs, make a decision after that. It's good news, but I want to do that live. I don't want to send them tracks."

How could he be so nonchalant about a chance to play his music? His calmness both surprised and floored me. And grounded me. This was, in no way, an indication of anything. Just another opportunity that he wasn't going to pass up. And I wasn't going to be the one standing in his way.

I moved to the bed and sat next to him and kissed him like I meant it, because I did. When I pulled back he was smiling and blushing and the tiniest bit shy. I saw it, in his eyes and felt it, in his heartbeat. He didn't want me to know it, but he was excited. I guessed I could play along. For a little while.

"I'm proud of you. I'll cross my fingers that it goes well for you."

"Thanks," he said, and then leaned forward until his forehead touched mine and turned his head so that our lips met again. Soft, light, sweet kisses from him. My favorite. "I missed you. Where'd you go?"

"Food! I got some." I hopped up and bounced over to the table. I opened the lid of the flat cardboard box and waved the aroma of pizza over to him. "You want some celebratory pizza?"

Slowly, he poked one leg and then the other out of the bed, then tossed the sheet back and stood up. "I could eat. What are we celebrating?"

"Life. Sex. Music. Us."

He dug through his suitcase until he found a pair of sweat pants and stepped into them, sliding them up his legs and over his hips. Still shirtless, he sat on the couch next to me and peered out of the window behind the heavy curtains. Finding nothing of interest, he turned his attention back to the table.

"I like all of those things," he said simply, running a hand down my back as while I dished him a few particularly cheesy slices onto a paper plate and slid it across the table.

I slid a can of Pepsi over to him and popped the top on a can for myself. "To opportunity," I said, holding my can up. He bumped his can against mine and took a sip, his eyes smiling at me over the rim.

"To opportunity," he repeated, more to himself, then picked up his plate and dug in.