John Francis - Chapter 89

Thursday, May 15, 2008 at 8:21 AM
They sat eating the pizzas, but conversation was stilted. Richie was completely baffled as to what could have happened since he had left the day before Christmas. It’s been only two fuckin’ days! What the hell is going on?

Amanda cleaned up the few dishes and then feeling a need to get some fresh air, said she was going to go outside and take a walk by the river. Nodding, Jon just reminded her it was getting colder.

“Yeah…” she replied softly, “…I can tell it’s getting a lot colder.” She dressed in her cold weather clothes and left by the back door.

Jon continued to talk to Richie, but now seemed distracted. He kept himself turned so he could see the back door and after an hour had gone by he started pacing a bit, not realizing he was glancing out the window at lease once very two minutes. Amanda finally returned, with Jon taking his seat before she came in. She smiled at them both.

“It’s really so beautiful back there. I haven’t walked around in a landscape like that in…well, I guess ever.” Her eyes were sparkling from the cold and her cheeks were pink. The wind had whipped her hair around and it was wild and tossed. Jon felt his groin ache at the sight of her and his mind immediately went to throwing her down on the nearest surface. It was late by this time and giving Jon and Richie both a kiss on the cheek she excused herself to go to bed.

Richie wanted to time it on his watch, but figured he wouldn’t need to. Nope, within three minutes Jon was excusing himself too, telling Richie to make himself at home.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Jon entered their room where Amanda was removing her sweater, trying rather unsuccessfully to untangle her hair from some of the buttons. She heard Jon enter the room and the next thing she felt was the front of her shirt being ripped open. Buttons flew like pebbles onto the floor as she was still trying to extricate her hair from the sweater. Jon felt raw urgency fill him as he worked the sweater from her hair. He unzipped her jeans, pulling them off quickly and then her underwear. He turned from her then and locked the door.

He was already pulling off his clothes as he came back and by the time he reached the bed and her, his shirt was off and his jeans were unzipped. He felt himself straining against the jeans and pushed them off as quickly as he could. She still stood there looking at him, feeling herself becoming aroused at his urgency. He pushed her down on the bed on her back and grabbed her hair, holding her in position. He kissed her hard, the stubble on his face rough against her skin. She felt his hands on her breasts as he kneaded them and pulled on her nipples. She tried to touch him too, but he caught her hands and held them above her head.

She tried to get him to be a bit more gentle with her. “Jon…” but he silenced her with his lips, using his weight to open her legs to him.

“I want you…now!” His voice was harsh and hoarse as his lust for her rose higher and the touch of her inflamed his senses.

Poising himself above her, he entered her with a punishing stroke. He would not let her shut him out. At that moment, it didn’t occur to him that shutting her out was exactly what he had been doing.

Moving inside her he felt the beginnings of her arousal and the arch of her hips. She wanted him, but didn’t understand where the gentleness in his lovemaking had gone. She couldn’t help her arousal though, and his relentless hardness inside her brought her screaming over the edge, her nails on his ass bringing him seconds behind her. Gasping harshly, he was folded over her, taking some of his weight off her with his arms. She moved her arms to his back, holding him and again stroking his hair. He rolled off her after a few minutes and lay on his back, his head turned from her.

I don’t understand what’s wrong. What’s happened? Why is he acting this way?

What’s wrong with me? She is who she seems to be, dammit! I could have hurt her again!

Without saying a single word, but before she could move away from him, he pulled her into his arms and held her. They soon fell asleep.


The next several days were some of the best and the worst of Amanda’s new life. Jon alternated between seeming to push her away and then seeking her out if she was gone too long. He made himself gentle his lovemaking, but took her two and three times a day, in the morning before she was fully awake, at odd times during the day when he would practically drag her off to their room, and always at night. She was in an emotional whirlwind, never knowing his mood, trying hard to figure out who this Jon was. He left her several times to visit with his kids, but never invited her to go with him. He also seemed to be on the phone a lot, but would walk out of the room if she entered while he was talking.

Amanda went out as much as she was able to. Jon had made a car available for her use, and she tried to be at his house as little as she could. Although she wasn’t shopping except for dinner items, she was just getting out of the tension that seemed to permeate every room of his home. She drove around, sat for hours at the shore, and tried anything to get her thoughts to stop whirling. What did I do? She couldn’t answer that one. What did I expect? Well, that one was easier. What was happening was what she expected. Slowly, a little more each day, Amanda withdrew inside herself.

Richie managed to keep his mouth shut but practically had to sew it closed to do so. He watched Jon push Amanda away with one hand and then when he thought Richie was too busy to notice, he would drag her away to be with him. Jon refused to discuss anything with him and he was going to let it ride as long as Amanda wasn’t asking for his help. He wondered if Jon could see the changes in Amanda’s eyes, the way they were taking on the shutting down characteristic of Jon’s own.

The day before New Year’s Eve, both men were in Jon’s studio when Amanda knocked and came in to see if they were ready for some lunch. They were in the middle of a difficult set of lyrics, but it was not unusual for Amanda to bring them food or inquire about a meal.

Jon turned at her entry, frustrated at the trouble he was having with this particular song, and snapped.

“God dammit, Amanda, we’re fuckin’ working here!”

Her eyes went hugely wide and she stepped back from him. She managed to stammer out, “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” as she turned and fled out the door.

Richie turned to Jon. “We’re done, asshole, finish the fucking song yourself!” Then he too stormed out the door.

Jon sat there, stunned at himself and horrified at the look Amanda had given him. He wanted to go to her, but now feared her rejection. He sat without moving for more than an hour.

Richie followed Amanda to the house, but she had gone to Jon’s room and closed the door. He didn’t know what was wrong with Jon, but he’d had enough. Today or tomorrow he and Jon were going to have a long overdue talk.


It was New Year’s Eve. The day had been very quiet as Amanda stayed as far from Jon as possible. He had come to her again last night, but for the first time he knew he had failed her. She let him take her, but he couldn’t get a response from her. She turned away from him that night and he didn’t stop her.

The three were very quiet that entire day, making only minimal conversation and that related to what would be happening that evening. Jon and Richie had a commitment they could not get out of, a party that had to be attended, although neither felt like going. Amanda knew about the party, but had never felt less like going out in her life. She dressed privately as Jon stayed out of the room until she was finished. She looked particularly lovely that night in a sapphire blue dress with the diamonds he had bought her for Christmas. John was dressed in a modified tuxedo, as was Richie.

There was mostly silence during the limo ride to the hotel where the party was being held. This party was thrown by Bon Jovi’s record company and both men had to make an appearance. Arriving at five that night, the limo dropped them off at the entrance and they went inside. Jon moved Amanda directly to the bar where he ordered a Jack on the rocks. Richie had a rum and coke, as did Amanda. Jon saw the other three guys as Tico, Hugh, and David were also pretty much required to attend this party. Nodding at them, he pointed with his head towards them and then moved off.

Richie turned to Amanda. “Honey…”

Her body rigid, staring straight at Jon’s back as he moved away from her, she didn’t turn at his voice, only whispered.

“Richie, don’t…please.”

He nodded at her. “I’m here, whenever.”

She gave a brief jerk of her head at that, but didn’t say anything else.


  1. Romaine Says:

    ohoh, I hope Jon will behave himself...I have a bad feeling...

  2. Anonymous Says:

    Ahhhhh! I love this story. Keep it coming.

  3. blackbird Says:

    Jon is being an asshole...still I understand his feelings. Been there, done that...well not exactly the same thing, but still, I understands.

    Nothing like talking it out, Jon!

  4. “Yeah…” she replied softly, “…I can tell it’s getting a lot colder.”

    True that! What the hell! I just don't understand why all of a sudden they aren't talking to each other. And why the fuck is Richie choosing to keep quiet? Then decides as they're walking into the party to say something? Grrr. I wanna smack them all.

  5. Opester Says:

    What's scary here is that I can so see this all happening and I see myself in these scenes. Reading it here makes me think twice about how I behave when I'm mad-and what I should do instead!
    Great chapter-it really illustrates how people distance each other further when what they really want is closeness!

  6. jovikitn65 Says:

    I am stunned that Jon would treat Amanda in such a disrespectful way. Jon she is not your personal whore, Amanda is the woman you claim to love. Amanda the fact that you are allowing Jon to treat you in this manner shocks me. Stand up for yourself girl. The next time he tries to have sex with you tell him to go to hell then pack your bags and leave. No one deserves to be treated like that.

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