32 #Incentives

 

Frankly, she hadn’t expected Jon to even notice her missing necklace, but when he had – and it was a distraction from his annoyance at being exploited – Teddi had thoughtlessly given him the truth about why the talisman was upstairs.  She had no control over how his friendship was fast becoming a safe haven for her, but she could certainly exercise some control over her mouth.

 

Damnation.  How many dumb things can you say today, Teddi?  First telling Tori about Pierce and now this.  Maybe Endicott is right about you being a dimwit.

 

Because, despite the kindness Jon showed her after the Boston fiasco, they weren’t what one could really call friends.  They were acquaintances who enjoyed mutual sex, and as such, she should’ve just addressed his irritation head-on rather than offering a glimpse of her peculiar psyche

 

The only thing she could do now was backtrack and hope that he’d come along for the ride.

 

“I’ve expressed myself poorly.  Allow me to rephrase,” she apologetically requested.  “Exploitation and bribery are the furthest things from my mind.   I’m simply offering an incentive for you to engage in social media – aside from the golden Hall of Fame ticket, of course.”

 

There was a brief pause, during which she noted he’d lost some of the prickliness from a moment ago.  Rather than sitting ramrod straight and prepared for an argument, Jon had sunk down into his seat and was oddly resigned when asking, “What kind of incentive?” 

 

“Carnal pleasure.”

 

Her bold statement had his eyebrows shooting upward with surprise before dropping thoughtfully low.  “There aren’t a whole lot of things that rhyme with ‘carnal pleasure’, so I’m guessing that’s what you really said.”

 

“Yes, it is.”

 

“I see.”  His chin dipped and lifted in what might be agreement, but she couldn’t be sure.  Hooded eyes masked his thoughts and made her tummy flutter with anxiety.  Or was that flutter something more pleasurable than anxiety?  “Wanna elaborate on that for me?”

That question offered with the smokiness of a forest fire was enough to confirm she wasn’t anything close to anxious. 

“I don’t have a detailed plan ready for presentation, but off the top of my head...” She fluttered mindless fingers, as though she hadn’t spent half her life building fantasies around him.  “Let’s say that each Monday I’ll issue a social media assignment for the week.  If you complete it my satisfaction by the following Monday, I’ll provide you with equivalent physical satisfaction – and a new assignment.”

 

Demons stirred behind mottled blue irises, and their wickedness emerged on a deceptively quiet tongue.  “You’ll fuck me on Mondays if I’m a good boy.  Is that what you’re saying?”

 

“I wouldn’t choose those particular words,” Teddi disagreed slowly, even though that “good boy” thing held a certain appeal. 

 

 “What words would you choose?”

 

She’d had years to consider this man’s pleasures.  What would incite a craving that only she knew how to slake.  What would create an indelible mark on his memory.  Anything he could dismiss as a “fuck” wasn’t even on the list.

  

“A reward system designed specifically for you.  Your pleasure.  Your needs.  Your dark desires.”

 

“You don’t know anything about my desires,” he scoffed, despite the demons dancing in the fiendish blaze of his eyes.

 

“Don’t I?”  She faced both demons and flames with a confidently hiked eyebrow.  “So you’ve never fantasized about being gagged? Dreamed of not needing your voice to get what you want?  Of not having to ‘sing for your supper’?”

 

His body language screamed that she was right. He might never admit it, but the way blunt fingers flexed and dug into his biceps was all the confirmation she needed.

 

“You’re not puttin’ handcuffs on me,” he avoided.

 

“Your stance on that has been made clear and will be respected.”

 

Jon’s eyes didn’t veer from hers, nor did he speak. 

 

The prolonged silence should be bothersome to Teddi, but his scrutiny of her wasn’t geared toward finding the faults or flaws everyone else always seemed to seek.  He merely studied her with contemplative curiosity, as one would when deciphering the meaning behind a complex piece of art.  It was flattering, and that flattery was what enabled her to wait with calm patience.

 

“Why are you doing this?”

 

“What?  Pushing social media or dabbling in freelance harlotry?”

 

His smirk was the sexiest she’d ever seen.  “Either.”

 

With a dismissive shrug, she cited simply, “I like physical pleasure and I like you.  What other reason do I need?”

 

“If you really liked me, you wouldn’t keep bugging me about this shit.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.  What kind of friend doesn’t badger you into doing something for your own good?  Whether it be diet, exercise, education, or countless other things, we all need to be pushed out of our own way at times.”

 

His head tilted to one side, and Teddi again felt like a newly discovered Picasso that he was trying to interpret.  This time, rather than taking the time to feel flattered, she tipped her face to a similar angle and studied him with the same rapt attention.  She wasn’t able to decide what he was thinking, but eventually, the deep furrows between his eyes relaxed and understated amusement took its place.    

 

“I like you, too, Cookie.”

 

The fond tone and subtle smile had Teddi’s stomach somersaulting with a dose of giddiness.  Yes, she was a grown woman and not a teenage girl, but what woman wouldn’t be giddy?  This man had been her celebrity crush since she was a teenage girl, and now he liked her enough to use a pet name.    

 

And get naked.  Don’t forget that. 

 

“I’m not sure I believe you.  Maybe we should go upstairs so you can demonstrate.”

 

“Oh, we will,” he assured.  “Once we finish talking.”

 

“Talk is overrated.”

 

“Says the woman with the communications degrees,” Jon chuckled.

 

“Body language speaks louder than words.”  When he hiked a stubborn eyebrow at her suggestiveness and fixed her with what Teddi presumed to be a stink-eye, she sank back into her chair with a sigh.  “Very well.  What topic is more important than sex?” 

 

“Your inheritance.”

 

“Ugh.  Must we?”

 

“Yes.  Have you been thinking about what you’ll do with the company?”

 

“Not with any sense of genuine purpose.  Tori and I discussed it to some extent this morning, but we didn’t get any further than petting zoos in the kitchen before she got sidetracked.  Apparently, discovering who put the love bite on my neck is more interesting than becoming a captain of industry.”    

 

Teddi could still hear the deafening silence that had followed bombshell she dropped about Pierce.  It was painful, but the follow-up conversation about gigolos, prostitution, sexually transmitted diseases, and cost-free sex partner options…?  That was excruciating, and she planned to never think of it again.

 

“Now that she knows, am I going to need to bribe her with something more than a selfie?”  

 

“No,” she assured after laughing at his wryness.  “But only because I led to her to believe someone else was responsible.” 

 

The furrow was back between his brows, but it wasn’t accompanied by a thoughtful stare this time.  His gaze this time was almost… accusatory.  “Who?  Your friend from the other night?”

 

His voice was equally accusatory, and it took a considerable amount of fortitude for Teddi to look him the eyes and not stutter when saying, “Yes.” 

 

An internal darkness cast shadows outward, dulling the features that had gone solemn.  The only glimmer of light in his face was a reflection from the wineglass he lifted. She expected him to explain his displeasure when the glass returned to the table, but that wasn’t to be the case.  All Jon gave her was an even, “Did you and Tori come to any decisions about Peabody’s?”

 

“What? We’re back to Peabody’s now?  Would you care to explain what just happened, because, I feel like an interviewer who’s been cut off for an inappropriate question.”

 

A muscle ticked quietly in his jaw.  “Nothing happened.”

 

“Something did,” she insisted.  “And for the life of me, I’m not sure what.  It almost seems like you’re perturbed that I misled Tori, which is baffling, since it was done to protect your privacy.”

 

The muscle ticked away as Jon leaned forward for the wine bottle.  “You’re right.  I’m about half pissed over it.  But I have no reason to be, and that’s what really perturbs me.”

 

Oh. 

 

Her psychological training said that anger was an emotional reaction driven by… Well, emotion.  The fact that Jon cared who people thought she slept with was a surprise.  It was also perplexing – and maybe a bit troubling. 

 

A frown tugged at Teddi’s mouth as she angled herself toward him.  “I feel as though I need to clear the air here.”

 

“You don’t.”

 

“Yes.  I do.  If not for you, for me.”  She sighed softly while willing the words to come together in a way that was both unthreatening and unoffensive.  “Despite my offer of a carnal incentive program, the duration of our friendship is solely at your discretion.  Every time you ring my front bell, I expect it to be the last, and I’m okay with that.”

 

If he’d been half-pissed a moment ago, Jon found the other half somewhere during her thoughtful explanation.  

 

“Why?” he demanded cantankerously.

 

“Why?” Teddi repeated, taken aback by his behavior.  “Why what?”

 

“Why is your control fetish okay with me calling the shots?”

 

“To be clear, my ‘control fetish’ doesn’t extend past the bedroom.”

 

“Just answer the question.”

 

Shaking her head at his smugly crossed arms, Teddi explained what she thought to be obvious.  “You’re Jon Bon Jovi.  I’m a fan who happens to smell like cookies and is shameless in bed.  Nothing could possibly be any more temporary.  In fact, I’d say you’re about two visits beyond what logic dictates.” 

 

“Fuck logic,” he stated flatly.  “If it dictated my life, I’d be nothing but another eighties’ hair band ‘where are they now’ story.  Logic is meant to be defied.”

 

His protest logically dictated that their friendship went beyond temporary, but since Jon was disavowing his relationship with logic, she didn’t point that out.  In her mind, he was still the one “calling the shots”.  She was simply along for the ride while it lasted. 

 

“I believe I just said you’ve already defied logic.” 

 

“But you didn’t give me a legitimate reason why our ‘friendship’ is at my discretion.”

 

“Yes, I did.”  Her patience was wearing thin.  “You’re Jon Bon Jovi.”

 

“Stop saying that.”

 

Teddi returned the scowl he aimed at her.  “Then stop asking questions that require me to.  You’re a celebrity.  You’re my celebrity.  I’ve dreamed about you since I was a teen, and now the dream has come true.  We talk, have dinner, sip wine.  We hug, kiss, and share physical pleasure.  There’s literally nothing more I could ask of a dream.   I’m simply waiting to wake up and hoping it doesn't happen during the best part.”

 

“Nice imagery.” She opened her mouth to thank him for the compliment but was cut off by a dour, “It’s also bullshit.  Your snobby family has treated you like a second-class citizen for long, you believe it's true.”

 

The very idea that they held that power over her was repulsive, yet Teddi had to acknowledge there may be a grain of truth to it.  They were certainly the reason she was antisocial.  She’d never considered herself to have self-esteem issues, however, and didn’t particularly want to consider it now.

 

“That’s a very bold assumption.  One that I don’t believe you know me or my family well enough to make.”

 

“Sure I do,” he countered, shifting in his seat with what she thought of as his Jersey swagger.   “Remember me telling you I considered using Peabody’s for that NFL deal?”

 

Oh, God, he knows. 

 

“Yes.”  She fought down a wave of nausea with a deep swallow of wine and prayed to be wrong.

 

“When I went another direction, they fucked me over.  They’re the ones who poisoned Buffalo, New York against me.”

 

Damnation!

 

That situation had been horribly ugly.  The people of Buffalo were fed rumors that Jon was going to take their team to Canada, and it had not gone over well.  He’d denied it repeatedly, but no one believed him.  They publicly boycotted Bon Jovi all over the city and talked about him like yesterday’s garbage.  It was enough to ensure he didn’t get the football team and left him vowing to never step foot in Buffalo again. 

 

It was also her fault.  Indirectly, anyway. 

 

Endicott was furious at being rebuffed on such a big sports deal.  He just wouldn’t have taken his anger out on Jon if Teddi wasn’t a Bon Jovi fan.  It had been a case of killing two birds with one vindictive stone in his mind, and now she was going to have to pay for it.

 

That was fine. If Jon wanted the company, she would sign it over. It had already been on her list of options, one which she’d considered more heavily after talking to Tori today. Teddi just hadn’t come to a final decision – or a way to confess her ancillary role in Jon’s heartache.  Now she didn’t have to worry about a confession.

 

But he surprised her.  Rather than demanding restitution, he announced, “I came here tonight with every intention of offering to buy your share of the company so that I could run it into the ground. "

 

"Is.... Is that what you're doing?  Offering to buy my share?"

 

"No.  Now, I have a little different idea.”

 

Dare she ask?  Did she have the fortitude to withstand the answer?  

 

Her fortitude didn't matter.  He deserved the opportunity to ruin Peabody's the way they ruined Buffalo for him.  

 

"What's your idea?” 

 

The smirk that was so sexy earlier now took on a devious slant.  “Now I want to help you run it into the ground.”