The Fourth Heart

I had asked Jon once before if he preferred me elegant and timeless or cute and sweet.  His text simply read : You are always all those things, but tonight go with the elegant and timeless dress. Jon’s answer was perfect because having him describe me that way, made me feel seen for the first time in a long time.  Tonight, I didn’t ask. It was going to be warm and since we were going to an outdoor danced event in Philly I knew no heels were to be worn or I would be leaning heavily on his arm as we walked back to the car at the end of the night. So I picked a simple white dress and my very uninspired but feminine white sneakers. I knew Jon liked my hair pin straight but with the humidity I knew it  would be a lost cause. I took a deep breath, sent a little prayer to God to keep the humidity at bay and straightened it anyway.  Before I got in the car to drive to Jon’s house, I stood in front of the mirror and to my chagrin, I noticed that my dress was completely see-through. Without hesitating I reached for a matching white slip and immediately felt like an old lady as I put it on. Part of me wanted to be like his friends, unapologetic and confident. They put themselves out there nonchalantly, but I would feel like an imposter. I wanted to keep my modesty and wanted to keep that part of me for a man I loved, and although I maybe didn’t care too much if Jon could see the contours of my body and the white lingerie I wore, I definitely cared if others did. In the car I checked that I had the bottle of Captain Morgan for Jon and the bottle of red wine that I had picked up earlier that night. As I put the bottles back in my bag, I glanced at the Lion on the wine bottle and it made me think of the wizard of Oz and the journey I had embarked on the night Jon and I walked under the moonlight at Swift park a little over two months ago.  I backed into Jon’s driveway, opened the car door, and as I was reaching down to grab the keys of the car, which had fallen off the seat when I had to break really hard, I was startled by his sudden presence at my side. Jon had literally materialized out of nowhere and had caught me off guard causing me to visibly jump. I could instantly see regret in his eyes and I felt like I hurt his feelings. I loathed myself at that moment and inevitably started to blush; something he thankfully refrained from pointing out for once. I was taught to always keep my emotions in check. If I could not control them at least control my reaction and always come from a position of strength. Somehow I knew I always showed Jon a position of weakness. I peered up at him sheepishly and as I began to whisper “I am sor…” Jon said “I didn’t mean to scare you”.  The funny thing is I never feel more protected than when I am with Jon. I am never aware of my surroundings when we were together, which is something I always have to do as I am often alone with my two daughters.  Jon’s naturally protective ways made me think about the time we left Lucha Cartel together. I remembered Jon gently pulling me away from a disheveled man that just happened to be walking in the same direction we were… I shook the memory off and focused on Jon again. I didn’t pay any attention to what he was wearing. Definitely jeans but maybe a button down shirt that sat just right on his squared shoulders, no doubt. But I barely registered what he was wearing because when I looked up at him I only saw the lips I had kissed only once before. Okay, maybe exchanged an infinite number of kisses that night, but that was the only night that Jon and I had REALLY kissed. Sure we had been on a few bike rides since going to Atrium two weeks ago, but only a peck here or there were exchanged as we said good-bye. I begrudgingly tore my sight from his lips and focused on the eyes of the man for whom I cared for more than I wanted to admit, even if only to myself.  We walked inside of Jon’s house so he could grab the cooler he packed with his magic elixir. He had chosen a significantly more refined rum than the Cap I had picked up for him and he packed that along with some ice. In a matter of minutes we were back in the car. He drove my car up to Philly so that I could drive on the way back since I did not plan on drinking more than a glass of wine. While he drove, Jon slowly and gingerly put his hand on my knee-cap giving me the chance to ward his attempt, but all I wanted was to feel the warmth of his hand on me. I wanted Jon to feel as comfortable as I did with his hand on my knee so as tenderly as I could, I covered his large hand with mine.  I lovingly caressed the back of his hand, turned it palm side up and caressed each finger before lifting his hand up to my lips and kissing the palm of his hand. I put his hand back down at about mid thigh height, rather than my knee, and the feeling shot a tingling sensation in places I was not expecting a tingling to be felt. I was suddenly aware of the butterflies in my stomach. I crossed my right leg over my left, slightly sandwiching his fingers between my thighs and then I turned to him to start the “interrogation”. Jon had told me more than once that at times he felt like he was in an interview.  I know that I can make just about anyone uncomfortable with the way I bombarded them with questions like religion, politics, drinking, all kinds of things, but I just wanted to know everything about him and I could not get enough.  “Jon, tell me about your childhood growing up. Were your mom and dad together?”.  Jon took a second to look at me and not the road. “My dad was an absent father but they were together”. I didn’t hesitate to ask my next question “Who took you to church then? Did you go with your mom and siblings?”  He didn’t show a hint of sadness or emotion at all when he responded. “Ana, It would have been wonderful to have the whole family go to church together like you and your family did”. He continued “I mostly went on my own”. My heart broke as he said this. I was even more impressed with the man he became given all the hardships he had to endure. I felt a familiar prickle in my eyes, and needing to keep my self image of always being in control of my emotions I decided at that moment to note that we had spoken all the way to Philly, thirty or so minutes, with no music. I put on a Latin American station that just happens to be playing bachata and just let it play. Until I noticed we missed the turn into FDR. I took my phone off the air vent magnet to make sure we did not miss the entrance a second time, but the truth is it didn’t matter if we missed the turn or not.  I could have spent the night together getting lost in the streets of Philadelphia and still had fun. I noticed that we were coming from a different direction than I normally came but we finally made the right turn into FDR. We parked, got the bags together, and Jon proved once more to be the gentleman he always is.  He took my bag from me, looped it on his left arm - where he already carried his cooler - and offered me his right arm in order to escort me. I looked up the steps that led us from the street to the pavilion and was so thankful for his arm. With each step up my left knee protested, but the music grew louder until I could feel the vibration in my body mixed with the excitement of dancing with Jon once again.  The first person I saw after Jon paid for both of us was Manny. He was dancing bachata as I have come to expect from him but almost instantaneously I spotted Ricky, and Angel standing by the back of the pavilion. Jon put our things down and he opened our drinks.  Jon corked my wine which was amusing to me because since Jon is seasoned in celebrating and uses swords to open champagne bottles, I thought a wine bottle would be no match. I couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or not but I didn’t get to find out because the first gentleman asked me to dance. I looked at Jon and since he didn’t show signs of wanting to dance with me as much as I did with him I accepted the stranger’s dance.  Dancing with this unknown man was like being on the jerkiest and most non fun roller coaster, and he kept hurting my shoulders as he tugged at me too harshly. I kept looking over at Jon. Sometimes he would look back, others he was talking with other people. The entire dance  I counted the seconds until the song was over so that I could get a sip of wine and so that I could finally dance with Jon. When the salsa song’s last beats finally died down I leaped at the chance of heading back to Jon. The gentleman insisted on taking me back to where I was originally standing, and when he tried chatting with me I made a point to pick up my wine. He left my knee protesting in pain, and I wanted that sip of wine to dull the pain but more importantly I wanted him to go away so that I could talk to Jon. Jon, noticing what I was looking for, handed me my glass of wine. He also asked how the dance was with a funny look in his eye. He must have known it was god awful, but in all honesty I could not tell. He kept smiling in that half mocking half flirty way of his and finally uttered: “this is my favorite song”.  I could not help the ridiculous grin on my face since that is what he always says even if he does not know or care for the song.  My response was just as familiar.  “Me too! But I do love this song, and I do know ALL the songs”. The truth is the song never mattered. My body just always ached with an urgency that could only be dulled by Jon’s touch.  He took my hand, which is something a little bold for Jon, and led me to the dance floor. Once there the familiar touch and his welcoming body were my haven. Irrelevant of the clothes we wore, or the heels I wore, his touch and his height were always just right. My hand fit his like it was made just for him. Our fingers performed their own sensual dance as they entwined and harmoniously changed their shape and hold. The crook of his neck, my “nook”, always felt like coming home after a long trip… familiar and comfortable.  In his arms the crowd as always faded away and all that was left was Jon and me in our own little bubble. I would sneak a peck on his cheek here, and rest the palm of my hand on his chest. The way my hand explored his torso was both for my pleasure as I am always seeking his warmth, but also in hopes to spark the same electricity in him that he sparks in me. Every once in a while we come off the floor, I take another sip of wine, Jon takes a sip of his magic elixir.  There are some pleasantries spoken with others, and I notice the men looking at Jevan for permission when asking to dance with me. I generally don’t say no, but I also make sure that when Jevan and I are dancing we dance consecutive dances so that there is little chance of me having to dance with others.  As we take a break for our dancing we sit at the back area and the stars look incredibly bright. I think to myself that the little prayer I sent to keep the humidity away worked so we can clearly see the stars. My hair on the other hand is a mess since I have been sweating, like I always do, from all the dancing.  I join the group looking at the stars and glance up and even without my glasses I know they are not stars but rather planets. I hear Manny say it is Mars and without hesitation I tell them it is Jupiter and Saturn. The haze of the wine starts to also hit me hard and I become acutely aware of how hungry I am.  I have not eaten anything all day because of the allergies I am battling.  I see that I have had very little wine but I feel like I have had two whole bottles and I worry that my usual demure nature will be thrown to the side as my sensual side naturally takes over when I drink.  I look up at Jevan and he merely goes to find me a bottle of water.  He and Manny exchange looks and Manny asks Jevan how much I had to drink.  Jevan’s response actually makes me snort because it is so ludicrous. “Manny I swear she maybe had a third of a glass of wine. Just look at the bottle”. We sit and chat for a while before the cops come and start to break up the crowd. Thankfully, the haze clears up because I am going to drive us to Atrium.   I am miserable driving us to Atrium, but we have to go. I left my Stuart Weitzman shoe there and I want it back. I already tried getting it back after I went to six flags with Sammi, her friends and I just happened to casually bump into Jevan there. So with a lot of encouragement from Jon we make our way to Atrium. We see Becca, his ex, walking out as well as Stan and Sara. I look at him and tell him it is perfect timing. Jon and I sneak in but I found out later that they stop charging at midnight so we are not quite as bad @$$ as I thought and we make our way to the dance floor.  We dance together a song or two and then we swap partners with Jorge and his girlfriend Katie. Jorge is a great dancer but nothing compares to dancing with nook and when the rest of the crowd clears out Jon and I are drawn together once again and we dance until the next interruption is from Furby, Missy’s man, tells us “Love is in the air”. Before we leave for the night I ask Barbara, who runs Atrium, about my shoe and finally Cinderella gets back her slipper. The ride home is equally as miserable as driving from FDR to Atrium but this time the haze of the alcohol is replaced by the haze of sheer exhaustion.  But Jon keeps me motivated as he touches me in different ways. We keep putting different songs on the car since Sam’s phone is connected to the bluetooth and I can’t replace the phone while driving. We make it back to Jon’s house without incident, but I have lost a few cool points as he gets to see that I am crabby when I need my sleep.  No one says anything. Jon does not ask me if I want to come in, and I don’t ask if I can use the bathroom. I am not sure how it happens but we make our way into Jon’s house. My heart leaps  now that I am finally at liberty to touch him in a way I refuse to do in public. Jon lays down on the couch and I willingly follow as he pulls me down on top of him. I have come to love the royal blue couch that I now know as the place Jon and I get to make out like we are teenagers again. Except, we are not. There is no pretense tonight. Everything feels just right. I usually hate being on top since I always feel too big and tall but Jon makes me forget all of that as we begin to passionately kiss. This time there are no timid kisses like there were 2 weeks ago. Tonight, Jon’s mouth meets mine with the certainty that I want him as much as he wants me. The urgency in him awakens the same desire in me and I respond by deepening each and every kiss. His usually gentle touch continues to be gentle but there is an edge to it that entices me. I feel brazen and emboldened by this yearning. I roll myself to the side of him and then I find myself underneath him. Jon’s weight pinning me down and looking up at him drives me wild. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him on to me and suck on his lips knowing I will leave them feeling a little swollen tonight, and that tomorrow they may be slightly bruised. Just like I come alive under him, I seem to have a similar effect on him.  His hands are sure like they know what they want. He laces his finger with mine and pins my hands down over my head. Pinned by the weight of his body and his hands holding mine down I don’t feel scared. If anything, I welcome him further by opening myself to him and letting him nestle his weight between my thighs. We may be dressed but I can feel the length of his erection against my core and think of the very little amount of clothing between the two of us. His hands finally leave mine as he explores my body and cradles my breast in his hand. He circles my n****e through my dress and further ignites me. I start to move against him and I feel him grind back onto me. Part of me wonders if Jon will be able to reconcile the demure, church going Catholic lady with the wanton woman he has in front of him and pray he won’t think less of me. I am not sure how, but he knows my limits and does not push for anything further tonight.  “AnaR”, he says my name with an R at the end of it and kisses my forehead. And just like that, he pulls at my heartstrings. We both start to doze off and eventually fall asleep.  A couple of hours later, we both are both awakened and to my total embarrassment I have drooled all over Jon’s ear. I was sleeping on top of him and as unlikely as it may seem just like Goldie Locks I find that everything about him fits me just fine. We could have been in a 5 star hotel bed for how comfortable I felt. Although it seems strange I felt the same way when we fell asleep in his car a month ago after Jalapenos.  I force myself to start making my way to the door but instead I further settle onto his lap. With a herculean strength I did not think I possessed, I make my way to the door then the car.  He kisses me one last time that night and sends me home all the while I am wishing we could wake up one day at the break of dawn in each other’s arms.