Young journalist, Cynthia Carpenter, is set to meet and interview the members of the most revered band in the world, Led Zeppelin, at the heighth of their North American Tour in 1973. During her experience, she falls for the band’s mysterious, insolent, charming lead guitarist, Jimmy Page. CHAPTERS ARE PINNED ON MY BLOG BELOW
This post will be pinned on my page and will be updated as I post more chapters, as the story continues :) I did this for everyone’s convenience so you don’t have to search around for the chapters!
ALSO: THE NEXT CHAPTER’S LINK IS ALWAYS LINKED AT THE ENDING OF EACH CHAPTER! Please look for it after my author’s note!
happy birthday to the greatest drummer and member of led zeppelin. (and secretly favorite) i believe that there was no better match to fit the greatest band in the world. there is truly no greater sound that john bonhams thunderous drums. his drumming made a mark in time where history cant erase it, it has influenced so many great drummers today. including myself!
“I’m just looking for an angel with a broken wing…. But somehow, they always seem to fly, fly away…”
-
Chapter Thirty Five (Part Two)
(Explicit Content Below)
Saturday, December 21st, 1973
Plumpton Place, East Sussex, England
Cynthia’s P.O.V.
I awoke to the sound of soft clatter, then a thud, echoing from downstairs as I came to.
I rubbed at my eyes as the sun shined through the bedroom window, squinting at the light now piercing through the lace curtains.
I shifted a bit in Jimmy’s arms as I moved to face him, watching him breathe, in and out, still sleeping deeply.
I placed a kiss to the ruffled curls upon his forehead before I gently peeled his fingers from my skin, getting up from the sheets to the cool air that wafted around the drafty bedroom.
I could smell the fragrant tea being prepared in the air, and I immediately knew my parents, or at least my mother was awake.
She was an early riser, a creature of habits and as I padded down the stairs, I could see the kitchen light glare that spilled into the hallway, and it was clear she’d been up for a while.
“Oh finally. Your father and I have been looking about this kitchen for an hour.” My mother immediately greets me, her demanding tone unwavering.
“Honestly, Cynthia, what do you people do for coffee here?” Her sharp voice sliced through the morning quiet that I usually tried my best to enjoy.
She stood before the open cabinets, several of them with the cabinet doors wide as she held a coffee cup in one hand, her other continuing to rummage through the pantry.
“Mom, dad, good morning.” I leaned against the doorframe, yawning as I smiled at my dad before turning back to my mother whom was still ferociously searching for the coffee grounds. “I can do it. You just woke up, didn’t you?” I said, moving toward her.
“Just woke up? I’ve been up for well over an hour or two. Your father, bless his heart, is already on his second cup of tea.” She gestured to my father who looked up from the paper he’d surely snagged from the porch.
“He found the kettle, at least. But coffee? It’s like a scavenger hunt in here to find it, or to find much of anything for that matter! Clutter!” She slammed a cabinet door shut, the sound rattling the delicate china inside of it.
“Do you even have coffee? Or is it all some sort of herbal potions you two drink?” Her nose wrinkled with disdain as she continued to search around the kitchen.
“Of course we have coffee.” I crossed the tiled floor of the kitchen, moving to the cabinet that contained the coffee. “It’s in this dark tin, top shelf, next to all of our teacups.” I reached up, my fingers finding the familiar metal of our coffee tin. “Jimmy and I like a strong brew, we get this special from the farmer’s market.” I explained, beginning to prepare a pot of coffee.
“Jimmy…” She repeated, his name hanging in the air. As she watched me, her gaze sweeping over my rumpled t-shirt and shorts, all of which were Jimmy’s old clothes, I could tell she was preparing a retort.
“He’s still asleep? At almost ten in the morning. Some kind of rockstar time he’s still on?” She jabbed, seemingly unable to help herself.
“He had a late night. You know, with the guitar playing.” I glanced at her, amusement lacing my voice as I placed a filter in the pot. “You actually stayed up and watched.”
“Well, your father insisted. And it was tolerable - for a while anyway.” She watched me fill the reservoir, her eyes following my every movement.
“I suppose I just don’t understand why you children have to sleep in so late. Especially when you have guests, Cynthia.” She gestured to herself and my father, who was still distracted by some comic in the paper.
I ignored the jab, focusing on preparing the coffee. “Anyway, it’s good to see you both, mom. Really.” I tried to lighten the mood.
“Well, it’s Christmas time. And you moved all the way to England… I suppose it was about time we come to see what’s keeping you here.” Her voice softened, a rare, fleeting moment. “It’s nice, but it’s not New York, is it? All this nature. And the quiet… very desolate.” She shivered dramatically.
As the coffee maker gurgled to life, I softly shook my head at her. “It’s peaceful. Jimmy and I love it.” I hesitated a moment before I pulled out a couple of skillets, remembering all of the groceries I had bought to prepare for my parents’ big visit.
“How about some eggs? And bacon? Dad loves bacon.” I smiled as my dad perked his head up, mumbling something about how well I knew him over the rim of his mug.
“Your father will eat anything. He’s easy.” She watched me carefully as I pulled out the eggs and bacon from the fridge, reaching into the cupboard for the pancake mix. “You cook for Jimmy, don’t you? You didn’t cook this much in New York.” She looked shocked as I began to prepare the ingredients for a late breakfast.
I tried to keep my cool as she brought up Jimmy again, and I began to worry he’d sleep in a little too late this morning, as he does sometimes. I mentally sent him an urgent message, hoping he’d somehow telepathically pick up my pressing communication, and get his butt down here.
“I enjoy it.” I mumbled, cracking an egg into the pan. “It’s different here. Less frantic, more time to do the things that matter.” I smiled softly, looking up from my task to meet her questioning gaze.
“Less frantic, more rural.” She sipped from her practically empty cup, silently pleaing for the coffee to be done.
“So, you are happy then, Cynthia? Truly happy?” Her criticising eyes softened a bit, looking to me for an answer that would perhaps ease the rest of the morning and stop her interrogation.
“I am, Mom.” I flipped the bacon, the sizzling smell and sound filling the kitchen. “Honestly, I am. I’ve never been happier.” I tell her, genuine joy lacing my voice, and I couldn’t hold back my smile for anything as images of Jimmy flashed through my head.
As I started to prepare the pancakes, my mother watching the food on the stove, a soft creak sounded from the doorway.
Jimmy began to walk into the kitchen, one of his cotton button-ups hanging on his lean frame, a pair of jeans high on his hips, as he strolled toward the three of us.
“Morning.” His voice was still a bit rough with slumber, but warm, and it all made my stomach flip at the sight and sound of him.
I watched as he flashed my mother a sleepy, charming smile, the same to my dad as my dad offered him a soft pat to the back.
As he reached my mother and I at the stove and counter, I watched as my mother stiffened slightly before acknowledging him.
“Good morning, James. Sleep well?” Her tone, though polite, was laced with sarcasm, surely still holding distaste for his oversleeping.
“Like a baby.” He walked over, shamelessly wrapping an arm around my waist, pressing a kiss to the top of my head as he hummed in my ear softly. My cheeks burned as I felt my mother’s eyes on us, and I held back the urge of pulling away from Jimmy’s grasp. My mother is always just so… judgemental all the time and certainly not one to take to Jimmy’s open displays of affection.
“Something smells incredible.” He inhaled deeply, his eyes twinkling as he placed one more soft kiss to my head. “Pancakes... my favorite, love.” He squeezed at my waist before turning back toward my parents. “Our Cyn makes the best pancakes.” He muttered before reaching for the coffee pot, shockingly not going for the tea kettle that’s already been prepared by my father.
For Jimmy to rather have coffee than tea was a rarity, and meant he was in desperate need of energy.
“Oh, don’t mind if I do, James.” My mother interjected, taking the coffee pot from Jimmy’s hand, as if he was offering it to her, and placing some in her cup before handing it back over.
My eyebrows raised at that, and Jimmy and I exchanged a glance at each other, my eyes pleading with his to just brush it all off. He seemingly understood and just offered my mother a soft smile before pouring himself a mug full.
“Lovely day, isn’t it? The sun’s shining for a change. I’d love to discuss some plans Cyn and I have arranged.” Jimmy began, turning on his English charm, though my mother wasn’t quite biting.
“Before we get to that, we were actually discussing you.” My mother shot back casually, setting her mug down onto the island.
As I stirred the batter, readying to make the pancakes, my gaze drifted between my mother and Jimmy like they were involved in a tennis match, and found myself hoping we could have a visit without any verbal arguments erupting.
“Oh?” Jimmy’s eyes met my mother’s, a challenge settling in his eyes. “Anything interesting?” He added, his smirk overly present as he sipped at his coffee.
“Well, we were just wondering if you were ever going to grace us with your presence before the sun went down today.” My mother’s lips thinned into a tight smile as she squinted at Jimmy from across the kitchen island. “Some of us have been up for hours.” She finished, shrugging smugly.
“Pity.” I felt Jimmy’s hand ghost my back as he moved behind me at the stove, to stand next to me. “Missing all the fun.” He leaned into me while my mother gave up her short stint of persecution, now discussing the weather with my father at the breakfast table.
His breath was warm against my ear as he whispered to me. “Jesus, has she given you the third degree all morning?” He jabbed, squeezing at my hip.
I swatted at him playfully as I softly giggled, bumping my hip with his. “Go sit and be nice. I’ll make you a plate.” I smiled up at him as he nodded softly before retreating to join my parents at the table.
I dished out plates, preparing them swiftly, the food turning out better than expected with my distractions this morning.
“Alright… breakfast is served!” I hailed with a smile, bringing everyone’s plates over to the table.
“Looks delicious, honey.” My father complimented, my mother softly agreeing all while avoiding the greasy bacon and putting a spoonful of almonds on her plate next to her eggs.
We sat and ate, the morning sun now streaming through the window, illuminating the kitchen beautifully as the clatter of forks and murmurs of our small talk filled the air.
“So, plans for the day?” My father’s voice broke the comfortable silence as we all finished our plates. “Cynthia mentioned something about heading to London?” He pondered, turning to whom was washing down a mouthful of pancake with a glass of orange juice.
Before Jimmy could get a word out, my mother interjected, dabbing at her lips with a napkin. “I certainly hope so. I didn’t come all this way to sit in Plumpton and stare at the trees.” Her sharp gaze landed on Jimmy.
Jimmy swallowed before nodding. “Well, yes. I thought the five of us could explore some of the shops. Perhaps a nice meal. I know a great little place near Carnaby Street that has fantastic food.” He offered his most charming smile.
“The five of us?” My mother immediately asked, confused. I mentally facepalmed, realizing that I’d completely forgotten to mention Scarlet’s upcoming arrival today.
“Well, yes. My-” Before Jimmy could finish his sentence, there was a sharp knock at the front door, echoing into the kitchen.
“Perhaps that’s her now. Excuse me.” Jimmy lifted from his chair swiftly, heading for the door, leaving my parents and I at the table, my mother most dumbfounded.
“Cynthia, what did he mean by the five of us? Are you expecting another guest?” My mother inquired, her eyebrows furrowing, her wrinkles becoming more prominent.
Before I could answer her, Jimmy came back into the kitchen with none other than little Scarlet trotting beside him, teddy bear in hand.
“CYN-DIA!” She yelled joyfully, running full speed to the breakfast table, and I rose from my chair just in time to catch her in my arms while my mother looked on with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher.
“Oh, honey! How are you, Scar?” I breathed as I picked her up softly, engulfing her into my arms for a proper hug.
“I missed you Cyn-Cyn!” She wailed as she held onto my torso tight with her arms and legs, her teddy bear tangling on my shoulder.
“I missed you too sweetheart!” I tell her, giving her one last squeeze before putting her back down on her feet.
My mother and father were still looking on with curiosity, and I hurried to introduce Scarlet to them.
“Scarlet, this is my papa, Dave. And this is my mama, Rose.” I explained to Scarlet in her own sort of language, which I always found to be the cutest thing; especially when she called Jimmy ‘papa.’
“Hi.” She squeaked before moving to grasp onto my leg, hiding her face shyly behind my knee.
As my father rose up and bent down toward Scarlet to greet her, I glanced at my mother and noticed a peculiar expression on her face that was hard to identify.
She looked… softer, curious, almost intrigued by little Scarlet. Her eyes lit up at the sound of Scarlet’s small giggles as my father and Jimmy talked to her.
She smiled then, and rose from her chair before crouching down to Scarlet’s beaming face as Jimmy softly tickled her.
“Hello, Scarlet. I am Rose… well, you can call me Rosie.” She expressed and my jaw almost dropped at the way she and Scarlet began to converse with each other.
My mother hated anyone ever calling her Rosie. She was always so posh, haughty, never one for a nickname.
But the way she was talking and playing with little Scarlet now, reminded me of long ago when I was as small as Scarlet, and my mother was much softer, full of joy with the warmth of motherhood.
Perhaps seeing young Scarlet had brought her back in time for the moment to when she had a toddler, and I could see the light in her eyes return at Scarlet’s giggles and trotting around the kitchen to snag some leftover pancakes.
I quickly prepared her a plate of a couple of pancakes, which are also Scarlet’s favorite. Surely she gets that sweet tooth from Jimmy.
As Scarlet sat and ate, her teddy tucked next to her in the high chair, we continued our conversation about the day’s itinerary.
“Well now, perhaps we can all get washed up, head to the city, then?” Jimmy proposed, and my mother tore her delighted gaze away from Scarlet, her face tightening once more as she glanced at Jimmy.
“You mentioned Carnaby Street. That’s fashionable, isn’t it? I could use a few things if we are going shopping.” She smiled, almost imperceptibly, as she pondered the idea.
“I need a new scarf and possibly a new pocketbook for the winter. New York has everything, of course, but it will be nice to see what England has to offer.” She shrugged softly, smiling down at Scarlet as she continued to munch on her pancakes.
“I’m sure we can find something suitable.” Jimmy’s eyes lit up at my mother being so agreeable for a change. “And if not, we can always pop into Harrods in West London. Whatever you’d like.” Jimmy suggested kindly, smiling softly at my mother as he reached for Scarlet’s empty plate, heading to the sink. “I hear they have quite the selection.” Jimmy turned his back to us minutely, unaware of my mother’s sort of shocked expression at his willingness. She almost seemed as if she knew she’d been judging him too quickly, unknowing.
“Harrods? Well, now. That’s a thought.” She glanced at me, a silent question in her eyes as her eyebrows arched slightly.
“Is he always this accommodating?” She whispered to me, her eyes darting between Jimmy’s oblivious figure at the sink and my amused expression.
I offered a small shrug, softly nodding with a smile.
“Sounds like a plan.” My father folded his newspaper, a contented sigh exiting his lips. “I’d love to see London. Maybe even see a couple music shops if there’s any.” My father suggested, wonder in his eyes.
“There’s a wonderful one near the museum.” I offered. “They have an amazing selection of all things music.” I smiled as Jimmy softly agreed.
“Perfect.” I watched as my father’s eyes lit up. “See, Rose? England isn’t so bad after all.” My father looked genuinely excited for the day ahead, but my mother seemed to keep her composure, though I could see she was pleasantly awaiting the day as well.
“Well yes, great for a little exploration. But I still say, a few days in the city would have been better than being stuck in the woods here.” She gestured to the patch of trees just outside the kitchen window.
“But then you wouldn’t get to experience a proper English Christmas in the countryside.” Jimmy countered, his voice smooth as butter as she came to my side, his arm wrapping around my back gently. “It’s all part of the magic, Rose.” He finished, that familiar cheeky smirk spreading across his lips.
She paused, considering his words for a moment, her eyes slightly turning squinty as she looked between the two of us.
“Magic… you have a way with words, don’t you, James?” A faint, almost-a-smile expression spread across her cheeks. “I suppose, for a change, it’s nice.” She shockingly agreed before turning her attention back to Scarlet, whom was playing with her toys in the hallway.
As I pondered my mother’s words, I exchanged a quick, triumphant glance with Jimmy.
Maybe it was sweet Scarlet who’d brought on this agreeable, much lovelier side of my mother. Or it was the couple cups of coffee that had her uplifted, or perhaps Jimmy’s charming behavior had her buttered up for the time being. Or the combination of all three. But, this amiable side, coming from my mother, was a rare experience these days.
What with her newfound enthusiasm of the trip, this Christmas, against all odds, might actually turn out alright.
~~
The gravel crunched underneath the tires of Jimmy’s Mercedes as Ron pulled the car around to the front of Plumpton Place.
I stepped out alongside Jimmy and my father, with Scarlet holding onto Jimmy’s hand as she trotted alongside him.
The crisp English air began biting at my face as a gust of the wintry wind blew around us. As I tightened my scarf around my neck, I felt Jimmy’s hand slide firmly around my waist, giving me a quick kiss to my temple making certain I was aware of his presence beside me.
“Everyone set?” Jimmy asked we watched my mother behind us step out of the house, adjusting her pearls, her eyes scanning the driveway.
Her eyes darted around the car, then to Ron who stood by the open door, his gloved hands clasped in front of him.
“Mrs. Carpenter, good morning. I’m Ron.” I could hear him say as he opened the door for her to sit next to Scarlet and I in the backseat.
I watched as she offered him a polite nod a smile before tumbling into the backseat, using my father’s shoulder, whom was sat next to Jimmy and Ron in the front seat, for leverage.
“Right then.” Jimmy started, guiding Ron to lead us out the driveway. "The city awaits." He mumbled, running a hand through his curls as he gave me a soft, nervous glance. I shot back the most reassuring smile I could muster, and Jimmy, his handsome face softening, returned it.
As we all settled into the leather interior, the silence in the backseat lasted about a mile before my mother began a whispered rant in my ear.
She had been watching the back of Ron’s head for several minutes, sitting rigidly, her purse perched on her lap like a shield, before she leaned toward me.
“Cynthia…” She whispered, but in the quiet of the car, it wasn't a whisper at all.
“Yes, mom?” I whispered back.
“Why in God’s name does Jimmy need a driver?” She demanded, her face holding a look of utter disapproval as her gaze flipped between Jimmy and Ron.
I could see Jimmy stiffen in the front seat, viewing us out the corner of his eye, surely wondering if I’d spill the beans to my most-judgmental mother.
The truth; that Jimmy didn't even possess a driver's license and viewed the act of driving a vehicle as a tedious chore, certainly wasn't something I’d let slip.
“It’s just part of his world, mother. Part of his lifestyle as a musician.” I reasoned, which really wasn’t entirely untrue.
She shifted her gaze to the back of the driver's seat, her lips curling down slightly with distaste.
“The lifestyle… I see. Does he not find it all limiting? I mean, is he unable to simply go to the corner store without a hired hand?” She admonished, softly shaking her head with disdain.
“It's about efficiency.” I insisted, keeping my voice light. “And our safety.” I mentioned, again, that part being genuine.
“Efficiency…” She echoed, the word dripping with skepticism as it fell from her lips. She shook her head once more as she seemed to dismiss my excuses, though not commenting any further, for which I was grateful.
Beside my mother was Scarlet who was thankfully oblivious to the tension that had filled the car from my mother’s constant state of disapproval. But, it seemed that she held a soft spot for little Scarlet, and as Scar held a miniature tea set and her tattered teddy bear, humming a song that Jimmy had played for her on the guitar, my mother was utterly smitten with her.
I looked on as Scar looked up at my mother with wide, curious eyes, a smile forming on her chubby, adorable face.
“Do you like my bear, Miss Rosie?” Scarlet’s sweet voice muttered up at my mother, and my mother’s transformation was instantaneous. The rigidity in my mother's posture had vanished, and her expression completely softened, the hard lines around her mouth smoothing into a genuine, sugary smile.
“He is precious, Scarlet. What is his name?” My mother cooed, smoothing a piece of Scarlet’s curly hair back off of her forehead.
Oh yes, Scarlet’s certainly brought out a side of her I hadn’t seen since I was a young girl like her.
“Barry!” Scarlet chirped, thrusting the bear toward her. “He likes tea. Do you like tea?” Her high-pitched, cute English voice sounded.
“I love tea, honey. Perhaps you can tell me all about Barry on the way.” My mother smiled down at Scarlet as she picked up one of Scarlet’s small teacups, pretending to drink tea out of it, giggling and playing along with Scarlet’s imagination.
I caught Jimmy’s eye while I watched the two interact sweetly. As I connected with his gaze, he raised his brows at the scene of my mother and Scarlet before us, a smirk playing on his lips.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as I offered him a relieved smile.
My mother was a storm of judgment when it came to Jimmy and I and our choices, but Scarlet was like a burst of light that diverted all the negativity that dared to escape my mother.
“I can't believe it…” I murmured to Jimmy, leaning forward to the front seat.
“Bloody superpowers, she’s got.” He whispered back as we looked down at smiling Scarlet as he squeezed my hand lovingly.
~
As the city skyline emerged before us, London soon met our eyes as Ron navigated the chaotic traffic with ease.
We started in the antique shops, one in particular that was one of Jimmy’s favorites that looked as though it had been frozen in eighteen-fifty.
Floor-to-ceiling shelves were full of weighty silver, porcelain, and gold that all felt in sync with many years ago.
“Now this!” My mother announced as we walked past a section of old clocks and mirrors. "This is a genuine Regency-era vanity mirror. Look at it, Cynthia!” She said excitedly, her smile growing with each second.
“It’s beautiful.” I told her, admiring the piece.
“It's exquisite!” She corrected, turning to the shopkeeper. “Is this authentic or a reproduction?” She shocked me with the use of proper lingo, and I smiled at the idea of her enjoying antique shopping. I’ve grown to love it too, all thanks to Jimmy.
“Authentic, madam. Late eighteen-twenties.” The man replied.
“I'll take it!” She said without a second thought, and looked on with sparks in her eyes as the man proceeded to wrap it for her.
Just then, Jimmy’s strong hand on my back pulled me from my thoughts as I felt him lean into me, his lips ghosting my ear. “I thought she hated antiques… y’know, ‘clutter’…” He whispered to me, disbelief lacing his tone.
“She hates our clutter, Jimmy.” We exchanged a knowing look and quick kiss while no one was looking before we continued on with our journey through the shops.
We moved from the antiques to a music store Jimmy had only been to once, where the walls were lined with vinyl and instruments and the air held the sound of a dozen different melodies playing from the different corners of the store. There was a section for every instrument imaginable, every genre of music, and every era of the past.
As Jimmy and my father bonded through the shop, they truly looked like they had come home. I watched as Jimmy and my dad immediately wandered toward the guitar section, and I could just tell that their fingers were itching to touch the strings of the many guitars available.
“Look, Dave! Christ, it’s just like the one I’d played for years!” Jimmy said, pointing to an old Telecaster. “All original!” Jimmy was ecstatic and my father was even more mesmerized as they stood and admired the guitar, getting into some conversation about Jimmy’s Telecaster days.
But what I couldn’t believe was my mother, who usually looked at music stores as if they were the lions’ den, as she was currently hovering over a rack of old sheet music.
“Cynthia, dear, look! These are original prints of Chopin's. I haven't seen these in years.” My mother seemed infatuated with the countless sheets of music, mostly all classical music, and I was completely taken aback by her sheer acceptance of us even hanging around in a store that boasted all the instruments she held such disdain for.
“You're actually enjoying this, aren't you?" I asked, half in shock, half hopeful.
“Why shouldn't I? The collection they have here is wonderful.” She gestured to the vinyl records to the right of the sheet music bin, and begin to sweep her fingers through each record.
“I think we've lost her…” Jimmy joked softly, sliding an arm around my shoulders as my mother continued to look at all the shop had to offer. “Give her a couple more days here with us, love, and she’ll go rogue. Perhaps she’ll even come on tour with us, eh?” My jaw fell open at that and I frantically shook my head, picturing my uptight mother in a sleazy backstage area of a concert arena as Jimmy laughed boisterously, showing off his gorgeous smile that I loved so much.
The day continued into the more high-end fashion boutiques and narrow sidewalks within the city. My mother seemed to find something in every store, including a smart, navy silk scarf, along either a matching handbag to compliment it.
I was so happy that my mother had let her precious guard down for once. She was laughing, chatting with Scarlet, and even offering Jimmy tips on how to coordinate his scarves as he tried a few of the silk ones on himself.
“The blue doesn’t do anything for your complexion, Jimmy. You need something with more contrast.” She explained, and Jimmy, not an ounce of offense taken, listened to her with a smile, trying on some others, including a daring polka-dot designed silk scarf that made me giggle, but was one my mom actually liked.
“Suppose I’m being coached by the master.” Jimmy grinned, looking at me with love and amusement in his eyes.
It was utterly hilarious that the first genuine bonding moment my mother and Jimmy shared was over a purchase of silk scarves.
Once my mother and Jimmy had been styled appropriately and were satisfied with their choices, we walked toward the museum down a few blocks. As we neared the large, stone building, the crowds grew bigger.
The winter air had turned sharp in the city, the wind now whipping, but people weren’t deterred in the slightest, just bundled in heavy wool coats and hats.
Just as we approached the museum entrance, a massive, ornate sign caught our eye featuring a painting of a snowy village and a jolly man with a white beard.
‘The London Museum’s Annual Winter Wonderland: Meet Father Christmas!’ The sign read.
I opened my mouth to suggest we keep walking, knowing how crowded these events could get and how Jimmy tried to avoid hefty gatherings like this, but my mother beat me to it. She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes lighting up as she peered down at Scarlet.
“Scarlet, sweetheart!” She said, her voice sounding like honey. “Would you like to go meet Santa?”
Scarlet froze as her eyes went wide, and she let out a tiny, high-pitched gasp as a beaming smile spread across her rosy cheeks.
“Santa?! Really?!” She wailed happily, jumping up and down.
“Really!” My mother beamed as she took Scarlet’s hand as she clutched Barry the bear to her chest. "Yes! Yes! Pwease, Grandma Rosie!” Scarlet cheered as we began to walk in the main doors.
“Grandma Rosie?” I whispered to Jimmy, a gasp forming the words as I was shocked at Scarlet’s sudden nickname for my mother.
And my mom didn't even blink at the title. She actually looked pleased by Scarlet’s affection, and hurried to the line where other young children were standing with their parents to see the big man himself.
“Come along with me, Scarlet! Let's see if Santa has Barry on his list!” My mother led the way and my father, Jimmy, and I followed, staring at each other in disbelief.
“Are we in the goddamn twilight zone, love? Bloody hell, what’s gotten into your mother?” Jimmy asked.
“I don't know…” I admitted. “I think she's just possessed by the spirit of the sweetest little girl on the planet.” I smiled as we watched Scarlet trot excitedly inside the building.
The building was filled with artificial snow and pines, and the place smelled of cinnamon and pine needles. The line for Santa was long, but we didn't mind, not with Scarlet’s sweet, overjoyed expression plastered on her face.
While we were standing, my mother spent the entire wait entertaining Scarlet, making up stories about elves and the North Pole and how Santa has been overlooking Scarlet’s good behavior all year.
When Scarlet’s turn was finally announced and she reached the velvet chair, Scarlet climbed onto Santa's lap with a burst of energy and a smile that could have been seen for miles. I certainly couldn’t hold mine back as I watched her converse with Santa.
“I want new shoes for Barry!" Scarlet shouted as she bounced with joy on Santa’s lap.
“Shoes for the bear?" Santa chuckled, his voice deep and booming as he reached into his sack. “I think we can manage that.” He smiled with his big red cheeks before handing over a pair of bright blue shoes that looked suitable for a big doll, and would fit her bear just right.
My mother stood by, her hand resting gently on Scarlet’s shoulder, a look of pure joy on her face. For a moment, her snobbish, judgmental, uptight New York socialite personality had vanished and she looked content, happy.
“I really can't believe I'm seeing this… she’s actually happy for once.” I whispered to Jimmy as I leaned into his shoulder as they took a picture of Scarlet and Santa together, my mother and father standing by with smiles on their faces from Scar’s giggles.
“It's a miracle.” Jimmy replied, his voice soft and fond, a gentle smile forming on his lips. “Maybe there's hope for us yet, Cyn.” He peered down at me with those eyes before turning back to Scarlet. My gaze lingered upon him for a moment, and I couldn’t help the flurry of thoughts that whipped about my head of how much I truly love him and this life of ours…
~
By the time we left the museum, the sun was dipping below the horizon, the streets were lit by gorgeous lights, and we were starved. As we headed toward Carnaby Street for dinner, the area was buzzing with the energy of the evening crowd with music from the storefronts bleeding into the street, Christmas lights strung along the shop windows, along with people up and down the sidewalks.
We found a restaurant that looked promising. It looked like a cozy spot with dim lighting, but as soon as we stepped inside, the coziness was overwhelmed by the rowdy crowd it drew.
A group of young musicians and artists had taken over the center of the room, their laughter and voices booming over the jazz that played over the speakers.
As soon as we were seated, my mother looked around the room, her eyes narrowing with disapproval.
“Is this a restaurant or a gymnasium?” She spit, her voice returning to its clipped, icy tone. “No place for a child, that’s for certain.” She shook her head as she watched Scarlet draw on the piece of paper and crayons the waitress had handed off to her.
“It's Carnaby Street, mom.” I said. “It's supposed to be lively.” I groaned as she looked around in horror at two ladies standing around with hot-pants on.
“Lively is not the word, Cynthia. Look at that young man. He's practically shouting into his soup.” She pointed at a guy across the restaurant who was bobbing his head and singing to the faint music so intensely that his chin was almost dipping into his bowl of French onion.
My dad leaned back, stretching in his chair, unfazed. "I like it. I think it's got character, Rose." He smiled, giving Jimmy a pat on the back before turning to the menu.
The food came quickly, with Jimmy and I ordering chicken and vegetables, while my father ordered a hearty burger and chips, my mother a salad, and Scarlet a chicken and mashed potatoes dish.
My mother continued to flash disapproving glances toward all the individuals whom were having a good time, before looking at Jimmy, and then down at Scarlet, who was happily switching her hand between coloring on a paper placemat and shoving mashed potatoes into her mouth.
“The only reason I am remaining in this establishment,” my mother sighed dramatically, “is because Scarlet is enjoying her mashed potatoes.”
The meal was a battle as every time a loud burst of laughter erupted from a neighboring table, my mother would stiffen up and flash one of her dirty looks, her fork pausing mid-air.
“Good God…” she murmured. “Do they not teach manners in England?” She grumbled, looking about ready to tell the young couple next to us where to shove their forks next.
“Let it go.” I pleaded. “We’ve had such a wonderful day.” I groaned, spooning some pudding into my mouth.
“I have had a wonderful day, Cynthia. The shopping was amazing, and the mirror is beautiful. But I draw the line at dining in a riot.” She shot back.
Despite all of her complaints, my mom didn't leave. She continued to dote on Scarlet, cutting the her food into tiny, perfect bites and whispering secrets to her that made her giggle like crazy.
It was a strange dichotomy - the woman who found this restaurant "barbaric" was the same woman who was currently treating a three-year-old like royalty.
As we finally stepped back out into the cool night air, the tension seemed to bleed out of the group. The exhaustion of our day had set in and we were ready to get home.
The car ride back to Plumpton Place was much quieter than the ride in. Scarlet had fallen asleep against my mother’s shoulder while my mother held her with a tenderness that felt fragile, as if she were afraid the moment would break if she moved too quickly.
When we arrived home, the house felt warm and welcoming against the night chill, and Jimmy and I exchanged loving, warm glances as we all piled in through the front door, leaving our boots and coats in a heap in the mud room.
“Thank you for today, Jimmy.” My father said, shaking Jimmy's hand before leaning in for a soft hug. “What a pleasure that was. Those guitars were amazing!” My heart swelled at his beaming face once they broke away from their hug.
“Anytime, Dave. I’m glad you two could make the trip.” Jimmy replied, wearing that same charming smile that sent butterflies swarming my stomach.
My mother stood up from the bench by the front door, carefully transferring sleeping Scarlet into Jimmy's arms before she looked at us both, her expression unreadable for a moment.
“It was a very pleasant day.” She started, folding her hands in front of her. “Thank you both.” She smiled at the both of us, offering the each of us a hug with surprising tenderness.
“Of course, Rose.” Jimmy told her while pulling away from their hug.
“Goodnight.” We added shortly, as she turned to follow my father up the stairs.
After exchanging an exhausted, but proud smile to one another, I followed Jimmy as he carried Scarlet up to her room, his mile-long legs moving slow and careful up each step.
I watched as he tucked her in, kissing her forehead and whispering something that made her smile in her dreams.
Once her door was clicked shut and the house had fallen into a heavy silence, we tip-toed our way to our bedroom, Jimmy and I’s hands brushing softly as we trudged down the hall.
We made it at last, and I leaned against the door as it closed, letting out a long, shaky sigh, tearing my sweater off in the process.
I turned to Jimmy, who was already pulling his pants and jumper off, his curls getting all disheveled in the process.
“We did it…” I murmured, catching his sparkling green eyes with mine.
“Did what, love?” He pondered softly, tossing his clothes onto the plush chair next to the bed.
“Survived my mother.” I said simply, a giggle escaping me.
He laughed as he stood up and stepped toward me, pulling me into his arms, his warm, porcelain skin touching mine, making me feel as if I was being engulfed with the warmth of a campfire.
“I didn't have to do much. Scarlet did all the heavy lifting.” He let out a throaty chuckle, his laugh getting raspy and I could tell he was getting tired.
“Still…” I said, looking up at him, his beautiful face. "Thank you for everything today. For being patient, for the shopping, for dealing with… all of it. I love you, Jimmy. I really appreciate you.” I could almost feel tears of joy threatening to spill over, the feeling of my love for him almost becoming overwhelming.
And Jimmy looked down at me, his eyes softening as he hesitated on his words for a moment. These moments of his, where I could see in his eyes who he really was, the rockstar persona was completely gone, replaced by the man who I felt I only truly knew.
“You don't have to thank me, Cyn.” He whispered. "I had a wonderful time. Seeing you happy... seeing your mother get along with us... it means more than you think.” He insisted before leaning down, resting his forehead against mine.
“You mean everything to me…” He added. “I love you more than I can put into words.” He murmured softly. If we hadn’t been so close, I felt I almost hadn’t heard him.
Jimmy didn't wait for a response before he swept me up, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist, carrying me the short distance to our bed.
As he laid me back against the cool sheets, his body following mine, there was nothing else on my mind but him, his raven locks, his warm, ivory skin, his calloused fingers and his skilled full lips.
The room was already dark, only the moonlight filtering through the curtains allowing for any illumination.
As Jimmy began to kiss me, he took his time. This wasn’t our hurried, passionate kisses we’d share since my parents arriving, but slow, lovely, lingering endearments.
His soft lips kissed my jaw, the hollow of my throat, the sensitive skin behind my ear as I sighed underneath his touch, leaving imprints into my skin.
“Jimmy…” I breathed, my fingers tangling in his hair, keeping his head where I wanted it. I wasn’t sure where this was heading, and it had been a sort of weighty issue on the idea of whether or not Jimmy and I could spare being intimate with my mother and father under the same roof. But now, it was clear we couldn’t think beyond the need for one another.
“Shhh…” Jimmy whispered against my skin. “Everyone's asleep.” He reassured, attaching his lips to mine again.
I loved when he was gentle like this, tracing the curves of my body with a reverence that made my heart pound and my chest ache with every slow descent of his long fingers.
In the silence of the house, far away from the noise of London and any judgment my mother could throw at us, there was only the sound of our breathing and the steady, rhythmic beat of our two hearts as our bodies molded to one another’s.
“Oh, Cyn… how I love you… I’ve thought about this all day…” Jimmy moved over me with deliberate grace, his eyes locked onto mine as he kissed and engulfed me with his body. His weight was almost crushing, but there was no way I’d stop him now.
As he merged his body with mine in the quiet of our bedroom, I knew that no matter how uptight my mother was or how chaotic everything had become, this was the only place I ever wanted to be.
-
A/N
Hello my dear friends… here is part two. And YES, there is a part three coming very shortly (almost finished with it actually :D) that will focus on Scarlet, Jimmy, Cyn, and her parents’ Christmas together, and will feature a couple new-to-you characters I’ve yet to include in the story too! (Can you guess who you think they might be? :D)
I’m SO excited to share it with you all!!
Love and miss you all so much, I wish I could push out a chapter every day so I could talk to you more.
I will try my best to get part three posted as soon as possible!
“I’m just looking for an angel with a broken wing…. But somehow, they always seem to fly, fly away…”
-
Chapter Thirty Five (Part One)
(Explicit Content Below)
Tuesday, December 17th, 1973
Foxy Magazine, London, England
Cynthia’s P.O.V.
“Foxy Magazine, Cynthia Carpenter speaking…” I said into the phone for, what felt like the hundredth time today. My office phone has been ringing off the hook, many publishers and editors calling for last minute articles and interviews to run before everyone took their Christmas break. So, really, every day this month has felt like frantic scramble to get everything wrapped up before our holiday break. My desk resembled a battlefield at the moment; my notes, coffee cups, pens, highlighters, and five pairs of reading glasses littered the top.
But, things were wonderful at Foxy. Benjamin was a wonderful boss. He was understanding, articulate, and knew how to command an office with pride. And, well, I suppose it helped that he was completely different from Paul in the sense that he respected me, in a professional and personal way. He never asked too many questions, but could always tell when I was struggling with something, whether that may with my work or at home. He was kind and always allowed for time off if he or I felt that I needed it.
Everything was going swell. Every band, whether up-and-coming or seasoned, had been so easy to interview and to write about, our magazine was soaring, and my relationship with Jimmy had evolved to a level of what I believed to be the closest we’d ever been.
Things were good. And I was ready for this long awaited break for the holidays.
But now, with the sudden, familiar screech of a voice that had sounded through the telephone line that could only belong to one woman, assaulted my ear. And now, I was in fear that my good mood, my good luck, had just been snipped.
“Cynthia? Is that you? God, I hate calling overseas! These phone line just crackles!” My mother squawked over the line, and my eyes immediately rolled. “Hello? Cynthia, are you there?” She shrilled impatiently and I hurried a response before she could speak again.
“Mom, hi. I’m here. Is everything alright?” I leaned back in my chair, already anticipating the labyrinth of conversation I knew was ahead.
My mother and I have definitely been on better terms lately, coming to a truce shortly after my hurried departure from New York last month when I’d run off to Boleskin to save Richard from Jimmy’s wrath, which cut that visit home short.
“Alright? Cynthia, it’s almost Christmas! Of course, everything’s alright! Well, actually, we must discuss your holiday plans.” I internally groaned at this. Her use of ‘your’, as if Jimmy didn’t even exist. And of course I knew, she’d made it abundantly clear, that Jimmy wasn’t her favorite person. But, she knows I’ve chosen him, she knows how much I love him. And yet she still never hesitates to snub and avoid Jimmy at all costs. And it hurt.
Before I could form a decent reply to her pondering, she spoke once more.
“I’ve been thinking, Cynthia, and it’s just not Christmas without you. I’d like you to come home for the holiday.” She suggested. No, more like demanded. Her voice held that sort of snooty tone that made me want to roll my eyes at her, yet again, exclusion of Jimmy.
“I was just telling your father this… it could be just like old times. We’ll get the matching pajamas, remember? The fuzzy ones? Oh, they’re just adorable. I saw a new set at Macy’s just yesterday… a cashmere blend this year! Just imagine!” I swallowed down the lump of annoyance that had formed in my throat, already getting a slight headache.
“And then, of course, we’ll go caroling down the street, just like we always did. The neighbors still expect us, you know! Mrs. Williams is still baking those awful fruitcakes, but it’s tradition!” She ranted on, my headache worsening by the second. I rubbed at my temple as I listened to her drone on.
“We could even get those little battery-operated candles this year, much safer than the real ones! Remember Cynthia? That year your hair almost caught fire? Dear lord, we were so scared!“ She laughed as I sighed.
Of course I remember, mom… and what a disaster. They surely heard you a mile down the road the way you scolded me all the way back home that night, like it was my fault that the oversized, stupid candles you bought that year were burning a flame five inches tall.
The fluorescent hum of the office lights grated on my nerves, and I rubbed at my head as I felt my stress amplify from my mother’s overbearing ways.
As her words continued to tumble out, I could feel a familiar cringe tightening in my face, my body. Matching pajamas… caroling… and that horrific, dry turkey she makes every year.
The entire festive vision she created was one I had long outgrown, and it was all so childish that she was still stubbornly clinging to it.
Oh, and still, not a single mention of Jimmy. Not one.
The avoidance of him stung, and before she could launch into another demand or another anecdote about my childhood Christmas mishaps, a desperate thought escaped from my mouth.
“Why don’t you and dad come to us for the holiday?” I internally gasped as I blurted the suggestion. But the words were out, hanging in the air, no taking them back now, before my brain had fully registered their implications.
My eyes widened as I realized what I’d just said.
Oh God… Jimmy’s going to have my head.
Then there was just the deathly silence over the other end of the line. It lasted only a moment, but in that few seconds, I could practically hear the gears churning in her head, I could feel her shock registering as she took in my suggestion. And there was no going back now. And I was suddenly very interested to hear her reaction. But I already knew what she’d say.
“You’d like us to… to come to you?” She breathed incredulously.
Before I could stammer out a reply, she continued her usual pretentious talk, mixed with distaste. “Oh no, Cynthia. I don’t think…” She began before I heard a scuffle and clattering over the phone before another voice reached my ear.
“Cynthia! It’s dad. How are you baby?” My father’s warm voice echoed through the line and I instantly smiled. His voice immediately soothed my nerves and I was thankful he was saving me from another minute of my mother’s rant she was surely going to make.
“Your mother is being ridiculous. Of course, we’d love to come! We’d love to see you both, and I could finally get Jimmy to show me that ‘Stairway to Heaven’ solo. I’ve been practicing, but still can’t quite nail the whole thing. But I’m getting there.” My father chuckled into the phone, making me giggle at his sweet request. I could always count on him to put me at ease, to keep a smile on my face when dealing with my mother’s wrath.
“I’ve even been watching those old concert films you sent off to me. He’s a genius, that boy.” My father’s enthusiasm and admiration went straight to my heart, such a welcome feeling compared to my mother’s constant resistance to anything that related to Jimmy.
I could hear my mother’s protests in the background, but I could practically feel my dad waving her off, and soon her voice disappeared from the line.
“Dad, how are you going to get mom to agree to this?” I asked, hope and anxiety coiling together in my stomach.
“Leave your mother to me, sweetheart. She’ll come around. You just worry about making sure that Jimmy has his guitar ready. I’ll bring mine, of course. I bought an old Gibson just last week… needs some work, but she’s still got some life in her.” I giggled softly at his sheer excitement of coming to jam with Jimmy. I just hope Jimmy would have this same reaction…
“Okay, dad. I’ll call you soon with the details, the arrangements and everything. Just… please make sure she’s on board.” I sighed, brushing my bangs off my forehead.
“Consider it done, honey. Talk soon, I love you!” He called into the phone.
“Alright, I love you too.” I hung up the phone, staring at it for a long moment in its cradle, wondering if I should just call Jimmy now and spill the beans. No, no… we’d have to talk about this in person…
I had no idea how he’d react, and I was slightly scared that I may be overstepping. Granted he and I live together, Plumpton has become my home just as much as it is his, and I should be able to have guests, especially my parents. But I felt guilty planning it without Jimmy being involved.
He wasn’t exactly the easiest person when it came to cooperation or compromise. The situation was usually a ‘what he says, goes’ when it came to Jimmy and his mind that was constantly made up.
And as I thought about how Jimmy tended to be the one in charge, he always wanted to be in the loop or the one creating it, I was now awfully aware of what a disaster this could become.
I leaned back in my office chair, a shaky sigh escaping my lips as my gaze drifted to the window, the grey London sky mirroring the dark cloud of apprehension that had settled over me.
How was I going to tell Jimmy about this? My mother had been so cruel to him in the past, had never even given him a chance. I wouldn’t blame him a bit for not wanting any part of it.
We were coming up on Christmas now, merely a week away, and there still so much on my plate I had to do.
Luckily, the presents I purchased for my parents were already at the house, being prepared to be shipped off to them. But now, since I’d had a feeling that what was done was done, those presents needed to be wrapped and put under the tree now for them to open in person during their visit.
Scarlet was to arrive a couple days before Christmas, and I still had a few presents on my list to purchase for her. I still had to do grocery shopping for the holiday meal, deep clean the house, finish Christmas shopping for Jimmy - God knows that man is difficult to shop for, and finish decorating.
Things had been so busy, so hectic lately, that I never even got around to finishing the decorating of the Christmas tree. And now that I knew my mother would be coming, I had no choice but to make sure the house and its decor were in tip-top shape, or I’d surely hear about it later.
~
I decided to leave work a bit early to work on the house. The Christmas decorations were almost finished, and the outside decor was just about ready to be plugged in and lit.
My drive home was a blur and it had even started to snow as the insistent drone of my own thoughts made my head feel like it was about to burst.
The weight of my impulsive invitation to my parents coming to Plumpton was pressing down on me, making each minute passing feel heavier.
By the time I unlocked the door at home, the late afternoon light had faded, and the the soft glow of the solar lamps outside were beginning to shine.
Our house was quiet, which meant that Jimmy still hadn’t returned from his meeting with Peter and the band yet, which was sort of a relief. I wasn’t exactly ready to tell him just yet anyhow.
I shrugged off my coat, and headed straight for the kitchen, deciding that I’d prepare dinner first. It was a welcome distraction, and that was what I needed.
I pulled out a heavy pot, the scent of beef and vegetables already filling my mind as I prepared a hearty stew that I thought would be perfect for the cold night.
As the stew began to bubble gently on the stove, I turned my attention to baking a quick chocolate cake, Jimmy’s favorite, which would add another layer of warmth to greet him.
Was I thinking that all of this would soften him up when he walked through the door, make my impending news easier to drop on him? Perhaps. But I did enjoy cooking for him, and he was always so appreciative. I yearned to see his smile as he invaded all of my thoughts as I stood at the kitchen counter.
After I finished my preparation, I licked all of the envelopes that were sat on breakfast table, with Jimmy and I’s Christmas cards inside, ready to be delivered to the post for the many people that Jimmy and I know - especially for Peter, Richard and Marilyn, and the band and their wives and children.
After that was done, and with dinner underway, I moved into the sitting room, welcoming the scent of pine needles that lingered from the Christmas tree.
Jimmy and I had started decorating a few nights before, trying our best to tackle the monumental task of our Christmas tree, which was certainly the biggest tree I’d ever seen, in all of its twelve-foot glory.
We’d only managed the top half over a few days, always before getting too tired to continue or too distracted with one another, ending up naked and tangled on the floor, or with Jimmy sweeping off my feet and up to bed to make love.
And now, it was up to me to finish the job.
I carefully unwound the remaining strings of lights, draping them through the lower branches, then began hanging the ornaments.
I wanted the house to be perfect, along with the outside of the home too. I spent a good hour finishing the arranging of the lights in the window and the pair of light-up reindeer, salvaged from the attic and scrubbed clean of years of dust, were now stood proudly by the front door.
I was just reaching for the last handful of tinsel to hang on the tree when I heard the click of the front door, followed by Jimmy’s sweet voice calling out for me.
“Cyn! Where are you, love?” I heard him setting his things down on the foyer.
“In here, Jimmy! Front room!” I called back, a smile already forming on my lips as I anticipated his warm touch.
His footsteps grew closer and then he was strolling in, all long limbs, with an adorable, thick cashmere scarf wrapped around his neck, and his heavy wool coat, now damp from the snow that began to fall. He looked so handsome, so cute, all bundled up in a way I hadn’t really seen yet this winter.
It had been a mostly mild fall and winter thus far, and we usually stayed holed-up in the house anytime the temperatures dropped.
So, for Jimmy to get all bundled up and brave the cold weather was a sight to see.
He shrugged his jacket off hurriedly as he crossed the room, the coat falling somewhere by the sofa, unimportant, as his gaze remained focused on me as he pulled me in to his awaiting arms.
“Oh, love… I’ve missed you. You’ve not left my mind since we parted this morning…” Jimmy murmured into my hair as he kissed at my temple, down to my lips, his soft, wet lips molding into mine. “Bloody meeting took all day…” He grumbled, tightening his embrace.
“You’re here now…” I whispered, kissing at the exposed skin of his chest from the few buttons that were undone on his shirt.
“Yes… and our home… it looks incredible. ‘Specially from the outside. Those reindeer are brilliant. And the lights… Can’t believe you did all this.” His hands found my hips, squeezing gently as I hummed an answer back, the heady scent of him making my mind go hazy.
“Oh, and the tree, Cyn… I would’ve helped you finish it, y’know.” He shook his head softly, a bit guiltily, as he looked up at its shimmering lights.
“But it looks just marvelous. All of it… I’d had no idea you were so talented at such.” His lips traipsed down my neck as I sighed into the sweetness of his hair, my fingers nonsensically finding their way into his curls.
“I wanted everything to be ready for you.” I admitted shyly, leaning into his embrace as his long hair tickled my cheek, his mouth steadily moving up and down my neck, surely leaving a mark behind.
“You’re the best, Cyn… such a good girl. I haven’t an idea what I’d do without you.” With that, he dipped his head, his lips finding mine, pulling me into a kiss that deepened immediately, his tongue rubbing dirtily against mine.
His strong hands, still cold and clammy from the damp air outside, slid up and down my back, curving over my hips, then cupping my bottom firmly, pulling me even tighter against his lean frame. I gasped as I felt that familiar hardness of his arousal against me. It was instantaneous, undeniable. And I knew this dance… I knew what he wanted. Even after a long day, even before dinner, before he could shrug out of his day clothes, he craved me. And despite the lingering stress in my head, a part of me was thrilled at his need, now and always, for the dirty hunger he held for me.
God I love him, I love this intensity, his devotion… it was hard to ever deny him.
But the thought of my parents, of the conversation we needed to have, intruded in my mind again. I couldn’t shake it, and before this went any further, before my mind was filled with ideas of only grasping soft, porcelain skin and tugging at raven hair, I had to get it all off my chest.
I pulled back softly, my hands finding his chest, pushing gently to stop the assault of his skilled mouth on my chest.
“Jimmy…” I got out breathlessly, trying to keep the smile on my face from faltering. “I… I need to talk to you about something.” I managed, looking up into his questioning eyes.
His touch stiffened and I watched as his eyebrows furrowed, his dark eyes searching mine, concern replacing desire. “What is it, love? What’s wrong?” He hurried, his voice coming out slightly shaky.
I shook my head, frantically, hoping I hadn’t alarmed him. “Nothing’s wrong, not really. It’s just… it’s something I did. And I didn’t mean to, not really, not without talking to you first.” I began to speak, my mind running fast and the words coming out all the same.
“And now- now I don’t know what to do.” The words tumbled out nervously rushed, my voice breaking slightly. “My mother called earlier when I was in the office, and she was going on and on about Christmas, about all these plans, and I- I just… I asked them to come here.” I admitted, avoiding his gaze, unknowing of his reaction as my eyes diverted to my feet.
“I told them to come to Plumpton for Christmas. Both of them. And my dad, he said yes, like immediately, and he said he’d bring his guitar, and he wants you to teach him that solo from ‘Stairway,’ and he sounded so happy. And my mom- well you know my mom, you know how she is. But my dad said she’d come around. And- and…” The words were coming out faster and faster, and I wondered if Jimmy could even understand me at this point as my mouth worked faster than my brain.
“And I know it was completely out of line, I should have talked to you, asked you first. I know how she feels about you, and I know how you feel about her, and it’s just… oh God, I’m sorry, Jimmy. This is a mess.” I breathed, finally catching my breath, my anxiety kicking me in the chest as I dared look up at Jimmy, bracing myself, waiting for the anger, his frustration, or disappointment. Or all three.
But instead, to my complete surprise, his thumb found my cheek, tracing a soft path, his eyes still holding that concerned gaze they’d held before my admittance, still soft and understanding.
He shushed me gently before leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to my lips, cutting off my frantic monologue before I could begin again.
Once he pulled back, my head lifting with the descent of his lips, a small smile played on his lips as he softly shook his head.
“Cynthia…” He murmured, his soft voice overly reassuring. “Breathe, love. It’s all right. Everything’s all right.” He paused, hands finding mine, entwining our fingers together lovingly. The knot that had formed in my stomach already began to dissipate.
“Your parents? Coming here? For Christmas?” He reiterated, almost as if he was repeating what he’d heard to make sure he’d heard correctly.
I nodded, my eyes wide, still expecting a tantrum.
Jimmy chuckled before speaking again, pulling me back to him as I’d pulled away a significant few feet during my rant.
“Well, that’s certainly a surprise, isn’t it? Your mother, agreeing to leave New York to come visit you, us, here? That’s the real shocker, isn’t it? Never’d thought of it.” Jimmy shook his head, releasing shocked puff of air from his chest.
“She didn’t exactly agree…” I confessed, a small, nervous laugh escaping me. “My dad kind of… took over the situation on the phone. He’s really excited. He really wants to see you again, and he was talking about you and your music and how he’s been practicing, and I just, I don’t know…” I sighed, meeting his eyes. “I do miss them.” I added genuinely, unable to article much else anyway. It was the truth.
Jimmy’s smile widened, reaching his eyes as he leaned in again, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.
“Well, of course they can come, love. It’s Christmas. And it’s your family. I want you to be happy, and if having your parents here makes you happy, then that’s what we’ll do.” He said firmly, squeezing my hands reassuringly, his thumbs rubbing at the backs of my hands softly.
“And your dad and his guitar? He was getting quite good months ago… perhaps he’ll show me up. I’d be honored to play with him, have a proper jam.“ He smiled, and I couldn’t hold back my smile for anything in the world.
A wave of relief washed over me, so intense it almost brought tears to my eyes. The knot in my stomach had completely unraveled at Jimmy’s sweetness, his understanding nature, so completely welcoming to my family, despite my mother’s past slights and disapproval.
“Thank you, Jimmy.” I whispered. “Thank you for being so… just- thank you.” A few tears shed from my eyes and he wiped them away, pulling me closer, his arms wrapping around me tightly.
“Don’t be daft, love. You don’t ever need to thank me for wanting to make you happy. You’re my girl. And I love you. All I want is to do the things that make you happy.” He promised, lifting my chin up to catch my eyes, the smile on his face still unwavering and bright, washing away any concern that had entered my mind.
“I’ll call Richard and Ron tonight, have them make the arrangements. Not to worry, Cyn.” His eyes were full of promise and I couldn’t quite hold his gaze for long or I’d cry of pure joy.
I buried my face in his chest, inhaling his scent, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek. The warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his presence, was simply intoxicating.
As the crackle of the fireplace filled the room, I had no doubts in my mind anymore. My heart was full, and so was my mind, yet again, with now all the preparation I had to with very little time to execute.
I felt Jimmy tighten his arms around my waist as he kissed the top of my head, pulling my hair back softly to capture my attention, the soft pull sending heat straight through my body.
“Now…” He murmured lowly, that sultry, needy look returning to in eyes. “How about we forget about the whole thing for a little while, hmm?” He suggested in that dark voice that sounded like heaven to my ears. “I really, really missed you today…” He hummed nonsensically, his grip unwavering on my body.
His lips braced mine again, this time with no intention of pulling back, his tongue exploring my mouth in a way that he knew we both needed so desperately.
His hands slid down my back slowly, teasingly, pulling me even closer, molding our bodies together until there was no space between us. The fire continued to burn, the only illumination in the sitting room, the scent of the tree branches and the rich aromas from the kitchen, along with Jimmy’s sweet scent swirling my senses.
Suddenly, I could feel Jimmy begin to lower us, guiding me down onto the plush rug beneath, the warmth of the flames caressing our skin as he laid me lovingly down onto the floor.
His deft fingers found the buttons of my blouse, already beginning to unfasten them, his eyes never leaving mine.
Before long, our clothes were discarded, strewn across the floor in a heap. Without another moment’s hesitation, Jimmy’s head disappeared between my legs, making me cry out for more as the crackling fire fought to be heard over my moans.
~~~
Friday, December 20th, 1973
Plumpton Place, East Sussex, England
The steamy air of the shower pressed into my skin, the warmth blanketing my body, but doing little to ease the knot forming in my chest.
I stood, letting the water trickle down my spine, attempting to wash away the frantic energy buzzing beneath my skin.
But each droplet felt like a reminder of my parents’ impending arrival, and all of the meticulous preparations I’d been completing over the last couple of days that still hadn’t felt good enough.
My mind replayed the last few days, all of the dusting, polishing, and rearranging I’d been doing to the house for my parents’ arrival today.
Once Jimmy had made the transportation arrangements for my parents to fly from JFK to Heathrow, then driven here by Ron, I contacted them with the news. My father was delighted, while my mother still held distaste for the whole idea, seemingly not understanding why I couldn’t just come there.
But, she reluctantly agreed, and they were to arrive this afternoon.
And I was a nervous wreck.
I baked a few pies, made sure I had all the ingredients for our dinners my mother would surely expect, and I even made my mother’s lemon meringue dessert I knew she loved so much.
I’d arranged the Christmas presents under the tree, each one wrapped meticulously, with tight, untorn corners and perfectly tied bows. My mom wouldn't tolerate anything but, and the thought of her alone sent a fresh wave of panic through me.
Jimmy helped however he could, making sure to keep the house as tidy as possible, aiding me with the laundry and things. We’d even had time to finish purchasing Scarlet’s gifts and wrapping them.
But, we always seemed to get too distracted, either by each other or by his music, and we’d spend the rest of our precious time away from the preparation, spending it together, listening to one of Jimmy’s demos, laying in bed, or making love.
I, of course, had no complaints and loved each moment spent with Jimmy. But, now, I felt that we’d procrastinated too much, perhaps spent too much time tangled in our sheets and not enough time on the house, and the stress of it had begun to weigh me down.
I felt so nervous at the moment, and even though I knew most of the dire preparation was done, I still felt like I was miles away from being able to satisfy my mother.
Oh, who am I kidding… she’d never be satisfied, no matter what.
I continued to stand there, letting the water beat against my pained temples, hoping it would dissolve the tension beneath, but it only seemed to intensify.
My jaw ached from clenching as I closed my eyes, picturing my mother’s pursed lips, her discerning gaze sweeping over every surface, every detail of our home, and us, and a ragged sigh escaped my lips.
Before I could move any further, I heard the creak of the door over the pulsing water, and a wave of cool air shifted the steam in the bathroom.
I didn’t open my eyes. I knew it was Jimmy.
“Room for one more in here, love?” His low, soft voice murmured as he peeked his head into the shower.
My lips curved up in a smile and I nodded gently. I wouldn’t, couldn’t, ever say no to him.
I felt his warm skin press against my back as he wrapped his strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me back against his chest. He rested his chin on my shoulder, as he whispered to me, his breath warm on my ear.
“You’re shivering, Cyn.” He rubbed his hands up and down my arms, my torso, his arms providing a tinge of comfort, but the stress was still gnawing at me.
“I’m just cold.” I lied, the warm embrace of his body aiding away the chill.
As his hands slid up my arms, down to my waist and hips, his fingers traced the goosebumps that rose quickly on my skin. “Cold, or just wound tighter than ever? You need to calm down, love, really.”
I leaned into his touch, my head tilting back against his shoulder as I sighed a big sigh. “They’re coming today Jimmy...” I softly groaned, my temples tightening again.
“I know, baby. Don’t think I hadn’t seen the calendar… circled the date in big red marker, you did.” He chuckled, his hands travelling up and over my breasts, softly teasing at my nipples, making me shiver.
“Not funny, Jimmy… my mother will dissect every single choice I’ve made since I arrived here. The house, the food, the decorations, the presents, the… me.” My voice hitched on the last word. “I just want everything to be perfect. She expects it.” I stammered, my voice cracking as tears threatened to spill over. God, I really am a mess.
I felt Jimmy’s fingers thread through my wet hair, gently massaging my scalp as he pulled me tighter against him, our wet skin molding together.
“You’ve been running yourself ragged, haven’t you? Baking, cleaning, arranging… rearranging. Jesus, Cyn…” Jimmy said, sounding overly concerned as I began to cry, his lips ghosting over each tear as they felt down my flushed face.
“I just don’t want her to find fault. She will though, she always does.” I shook my head, sniffling, pushing our bodies slightly further into the stream of the water, a cold chill erupting down my spine just thinking about it all.
He turned me gently in his embrace so I was faced him, his eyes a startling emerald in the low light of the tub. A small smile plated his lips and though it brought comfort to me, I tried to avoid his gaze, avoid him seeing me cry any further.
“Hey…” His thumb brushed a wet strand of my hair from my forehead. “Look at me.” He murmured.
I finally met his gaze again, the frantic energy still thumping inside of me.
“Breathe, love, just breathe. It’s all going to be fine. More than fine.” He promised, though I still had my doubts.
“What if it isn’t?” I demanded, my gaze unwavering on him.
He shook his head softly, his hands finding my shoulders, his thumbs beginning to rub small circles into the tense muscles. “It will be. I promise.” He said firmly, before continuing.
“Now shhh…” His voice was had gone lower now, a comfort to my frayed nerves. “Just relax, Cyn, all right? You mustn’t be on edge like this. Let me take care of you.” He hummed into my skin.
His words sent a jolt of relief through my body as I relaxed against him, my shoulders dropping as I anticipated his next move.
He reached for the shampoo bottle, pouring a dollop into his palm before working it into my hair, his fingers firm and gentle all at once.
The warm lather, the soft scrape of his nails against my scalp, slowly began to unravel the tight knots in my mind. I closed my eyes, letting out a long breath as I leaned my back further into his chest.
“That’s it…” He murmured, his warm breath close to my ear. “Just breathe. Let it all go, Cyn.” He encouraged softly.
He continued to massage, working the suds into my hair as my scalp and body tingled, a fervent sensation spreading through my head.
The world outside the shower, filled with expectations and endless things to do, started to recede, replaced by Jimmy’s comforting, intoxicating presence.
After a long moment, I felt Jimmy reach up for the shower head before bringing it down in his hand, angling it, the close stream of water rinsing the shampoo from my hair.
The sensation was exquisite as Jimmy took his time, ensuring every bit of lather was gone, his fingers still working through my hair, separating the strands, massaging my scalp. I relished his touch as long as I could.
Jimmy’s gentle touch turned me around, my back now pressed against the tiled wall with a soft gasp.
With the shower head still in his hand, Jimmy lowered it slightly, his eyes, now dark, lower, met mine in the dim light of the shower.
His soft lips descended, kissing me me slowly, sensually, seeking my mouth out with his. My lips parted immediately, that much was immediate, inviting him in, and I could taste him then, that usual minty taste, tea, perhaps a hint of whiskey… it always made me weak in the knees.
We kissed like the gods until he pulled back, just enough to catch our breath as the shower head still pulsed in his hand streaming water down our bodies.
He tore his gaze away momentarily, his eyes traveling down my neck, over my collarbone, to my chest, where his gaze remained for a second, almost contemplating, thinking.
Then, suddenly, he lowered the shower head, the warm spray now beating gently against my breasts, pounding against my skin, sending a delicious tremble through me.
“Jimmy w-what are y…” I stammered, gasping at the new sensation, but Jimmy quieted me with a kiss.
“Relax, love. This will feel good, I promise.” He kissed me once more before continuing.
My nipples hardened further under the direct assault of the spray and his sexy, sweet voice in my ear. I couldn’t control the soft moans that began to escape me as the water provided such a bizarre stimulation to my sensitive skin.
“Mmm…” I breathed, tilting my head back against the shower wall, letting the sensation of the pulsing water wash over me.
I could feel Jimmy’s heavy-lidded eyes on me, watching me. “Does this feel good, Cyn?” He murmured.
I nodded, my voice caught somewhere in my throat as my hands instinctively reached up, gripping his wet shoulders, the wet curls that dripped as my fingers dug into the lean muscle beneath his skin.
“Let’s move down a bit, hm?” His voice was so soft, so low now, I almost couldn’t hear his suggestion that now sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between my legs.
Jimmy knelt slowly, the shower head still directed at my goosebump-clad skin. My eyes widened with surprise as I watched him for a moment, my body swirling with anticipation.
The water now began to beat against my stomach, making my abdominal muscles jump with its intensity, still providing the same sensation that rippled through me like a tidal wave.
And the unexpected sight, the sensuality of Jimmy’s stance, kneeling before me in the shower, sent sheer thrill through me, a familiar response of my body to his sudden actions, his need to pleasure me.
My breath hitched as he brought the shower head even closer, the water now shooting its stream at an intensity that made my back arch.
“And this?” Jimmy asked, his voice barely a whisper, looking up at. “How does this feel, love?”
I just nodded again, it was all I could do as my eyes locked on his, trying my best to send some kind of silent plea for him to just continue. This was new and sort of exhilarating, like new territory.
My fingers tightened on his shoulders, in his hair, as my body swayed slightly in his grip.
“Say it, Cyn. Tell me how it feels…” He purred, his nose softly brushing the skin of my stomach, his warm breath joining the warmth of the water.
“Good…” I moaned breathily, unable to muster much else. This seemingly satisfied Jimmy as I felt his smile against my hip, his lips kissing at the protruding bone there before he moved again.
He lowered the shower head further, the warm spray now hitting my inner thighs, and then with a swift movement, directly onto my center.
A gasp tore from my throat as I felt the water pound directly against me, what felt like a thousand tiny pressures building and building.
I felt my legs begin to tremble with a quake that threatened to buckle my knees. I never experienced anything like this… it was overwhelming, incredible… pushing me to the brink of screaming.
Before I could even process the full impact of the sensation, before my mind could catch up with the pleasure blooming inside me, Jimmy’s head lowered and his mouth joined the steady beat of the water.
I almost collapsed at the two sensations becoming one, with the pulsating water and Jimmy’s skilled mouth against me making me cry out. And I would have fallen if it weren’t for Jimmy’s firm grip on my body, holding me up against the tile.
The combination of Jimmy’s tongue and the water was dizzying, a complete overload of sensation that sent sparks flying through my every nerve ending. The feeling I was experiencing was unimaginable, and my legs threatened to give out completely.
But Jimmy braced me, his hands firm on my thighs as he held me steady, holding me captive as he devoured me, teasing, pulling back, only to return with vigor. The water continued to pulse, his tongue danced upon my center, and I was lost in the sensation.
My fingers tangled themselves in Jimmy’s wet hair, gripping tight, my knuckles going white as I felt myself slipping away.
My eyes squeezed shut as my head lolled back against the tiles, my moans coming out in breathless cries as Jimmy continued to work his mouth in symphony with the water. Each movement of his tongue, each pulse of the water, brought me closer and closer to the edge.
“Jimmy…” I moaned raggedly, surrendering to the outlandish pleasure he’s bringing to me.
He hummed against me, vibrating into my folds as he worked his tongue faster, harder, his mouth hot against my wet skin. The water continued its relentless beat, and I couldn’t hold on any longer.
I felt the blinding flash pleasure explode through me, ripping through my core. My hips thrashed against Jimmy’s strong hands, my body convulsing before I cried out, calling Jimmy’s name over and over as my release took charge.
I could feel my legs giving out, and I would have collapsed if not for Jimmy’s large, strong hands holding me upright, keeping me steady on his mouth.
My entire body was vibrating now with the delicious aftershock rippling through my every nerve. My knees knocked together, still trembling uncontrollably as Jimmy kept his mouth on me, licking away my release, murmuring something I couldn’t make out into my center.
Slowly, I came back to reality, feeling utterly relaxed and sated, completely undone. My eyes fluttered open, finding Jimmy’s green ones in the dim bathroom, his eyes now gleaming with tenderness as he rose.
I welcomed his embrace as pulled me gently into his arms, pressing my head against his shoulder. His hands softly caressed the length of my body as he replaced the shower head above us, the water continuing to run, washing over us.
“Feel better now, love?” He murmured softly, his lips brushing my wet temples that now felt relaxed.
I could only nod up at him, my body still quivering, just too spent to form words. All of my stress and anxiety had now been obliterated, washed away by Jimmy’s efforts.
I relaxed further into his arms as we held one another, lost in the moment in the steamy embrace of the shower, everything seeming to cease existence but us.
And before I could ponder any further, I could feel Jimmy’s hardness pushing against the inside of my thighs, throbbing and undeniable as I looked down between us.
Almost instinctually I reached down, my small hand wrapping along him, softly moving my hand up and down as I heard him suck a sharp breath of air through his teeth, softly groaning as his hands travelled down my body, gripping my bottom, massaging the dimples at my lower back.
“Oh Cyn, baby, yeah… stroke me.” He moaned, gently rolling his hips into my tantalizing caresses of his skin.
We continued this for a moment, with Jimmy’s soft voice and groans filling the steamy space, and I felt my center begin to tingle once again.
“That feels so good, love. You know just how to touch me…” He murmured, his warm breath encasing my ear as his lips kissed my cheek, down further to the sensitive skin of my neck.
I could tell that Jimmy was getting close just from my touch, and he gently pulled away, pulling me to him with a swift movement, reaching to turn the shower water off.
“C’mere, Cyn. Come with me. I want to make love to you.” I was completely winded by his intensity, his tender voice, the unashamed conviction in his words.
There was absolutely nothing else I wanted to do but follow him, hand in hand, back to our bed that I hadn’t even bothered to properly make yet.
He laid me down lovingly and before long, he was inside of me, his long, pale body enveloping mine, making me feel utterly whole, making me completely forget the pressures that were awaiting me.
~~
After our lovemaking, we hurried to get ourselves dressed, making sure I spent ample time to tidy the house once I’d gotten myself together. As the day progressed, the time of my parents arrival grew closer.
I hoped Ron could find them at the airport with no trouble, and get them back here in one piece. The weather outside was typical of England’s wintry mix, grey and misty, with a soft snowfall coating the ground.
My stomach churned with a nervous energy that had nothing to do with holiday joy as I made sure each decoration was perfect and in its place, along with all of our miscellaneous possessions scattered around our home.
I couldn’t stop glancing at Jimmy, who, despite his usual calm demeanor, seemed to be almost as nervous as I was. It wasn’t a familiar sight to see on him, the tension in his posture.
This was the first time my parents were visiting us here, in our space, in our life in England. I suppose the stakes felt incredibly high for both of us, now.
Jimmy watched my frenzied body move around the house with slight amusement, occasionally offering to help, but mostly letting me channel my awful anxiety into cleaning and cooking.
The scent of my roasting chicken that Jimmy had said he loved a thousand times filled the downstairs space as I hurried to the other oven to get the lemon meringue out of it.
Suddenly, as I was removing the tinfoil from the desserts, the doorbell at the front door chimed, forcing my heart to begin to hammer against my chest.
“They’re here.” I mumbled to Jimmy as he sat on the couch, his guitar, as usual, in his arms.
I watched as his face sort of tightened, then softening as he rose, striding across the sitting room to my waiting figure in the doorway.
He still looked a touch nervous, as we knew there very well might be whole new level of scrutiny awaiting us from my mother.
I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and walked to the door with Jimmy close behind.
I whipped the door open to find my mother stood on the porch in her perfectly tailored wool coat, her hair tucked into a fancy wool hat that meticulously matched her coat.
And my dad was beside her bundled in his usual chunky flannel atop one of the sweaters I’d gifted him for Christmas years ago. Unlike my mother, he was beaming with, what I noticed immediately, a guitar case clutched in his hand.
“Cynthia, honey.” My mother’s high-pitched voice echoed as I moved to the side to let them in. She offered me an air-kiss, careful not to smudge her bright red lipstick as I felt her hand brush my arm as she walked inside. “You look great… a bit thin, though.” She had to mention about my appearance. Same old, same old.
“Mom.” I managed a small. strained smile as I returned her air-kiss, hugging her swiftly, almost scared to potentially wrinkle her coat.
Before I could greet her further, my father enveloped me in one of his bear hugs, his scent familiar and so comforting as I hugged him tighter. “My baby! It’s so wonderful to see you!” I noticed him catch a glimpse of Jimmy standing awkwardly behind me, and his eyes lit up. “And Jimmy, my boy! Good to see you again!” He extended his hand to him once we parted, grinning wide. Jimmy seemed to relax a bit at this and with his toothy grin that made me smile, returned the handshake, before giving my father a small hug.
Jimmy stepped forward, facing both my mom and dad as he spoke. “Dave, Rose. It’s lovely to have you.” He looked a bit more at ease now and even managed a polite nod and handshake to my mother, who offered her usual thin, tight-lipped smile and cold hand in return.
“I assume your flight was all right, then?” Jimmy asked kindly, though my mother was quick to point out her distaste of their transportation.
“Well, James, since you ask..." My mother began coldly, “the flight was simply awful.” She announced, stepping past us into the sitting room, her eyes already judging every detail. "The cabin pressure was off, it gave me a terrible headache. And the tea was awful. I thought you English were supposed to have great tea." She grumbled, shaking her head.
Before she continued with her rant, she paused, her eyes landing on a small, hand-knitted throw that I draped over our sofa. It was a vintage blanket Jimmy gotten for me in London a while back. “Oh, this is… well, this is interesting." She said, revulsion laced in her voice.
I shot a quick glance at Jimmy at that, my face falling at her first of surely many snide comments tonight, and he caught my eyes immediately. He lifted his brows softly, offering me a gentle smile as his gaze remained warm. ‘It’s okay…’ his look said.
“Let me get your coats.” Jimmy offered, his voice calm and unfazed as he changed the subject. He helped my mother out of her coat before taking my father’s and bringing them both to the hall closet.
“I’ve got dinner cooking.” I announced to them once Jimmy returned to the sitting room, trying to inject some happiness into the air. "And I made your favorite for dessert, mom. Lemon meringue." I smiled, hoping this would soften her.
She turned her head, her eyes settling on me, which had been scanning the bookshelves. "Lemon meringue? That was thoughtful of you. Though, I do hope the crust isn’t as burnt as the last one you attempted." She proposed snobbishly, her eyes returning back to her exploration of the book collection on the shelves.
I felt my shoulders sag and couldn’t help but look for Jimmy’s gaze once again. This time, his smile was openly encouraging, offering me another silent message of support.
We chatted briefly over tea as the chicken finished cooking, along with the potatoes, vegetables, and lemon cream sauce I’d put on the stove.
Soon we settled around the dining table with no incident, my mother still able to remain polite and not cause any issues with Jimmy thus far, which I was particularly happy about.
But, as we sat and ate, chatting here and there, I watched as my mother picked at her food, occasionally asking a question about the ingredients or critiquing my homemade potatoes. My dad, however, ate quickly, praising the dish with each mouthful.
He and Jimmy talked about guitars, amps, foot pedals, their last tour, and just about anything that pertained to music that came to my father’s head. I smiled as I listened to their lengthy conversation about certain songs my dad has been trying to learn over the last few months on the guitar.
“But enough about me! Cynthia,” my father began, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin, "tell us more about this job of yours at London’s Foxy magazine. How is it going?" He asked wholeheartedly, that same smile unwavering on his face.
“It’s been fantastic, dad. I love it. It’s completely different from the New York scene. More focused on just the music, less on the gossip and drama. It’s more about substance." I felt my enthusiasm bubble up as I thought about how well everything had been going. “The energy here in England… it’s exactly what I needed. I feel like I’m actually making a difference, writing about the things that matter in music.” I grinned as my father nodded with pure joy in his eyes, mumbling something about how proud he was of me.
“Sounds like you’re really doing big things, honey. You’ll be the Editor-In-Chief before all know it!” My father exclaimed, sipping on a cup of tea I prepared just a few minutes ago.
“Oh goodness, well I wouldn’t say that…” I blushed, and I could feel Jimmy’s eyes on me before he spoke, adding fuel to my father’s fire.
“Our Cynthia is a modest one… she’ll surely be taking over one day. Or perhaps creating her own.” Jimmy began, and I could feel my cheeks flame with his sweet words as my mother narrowed her eyes at him quizzically.
“She’s been doing such a marvelous job, and working so hard, she is. I am proud of her.” His arm came up to rest on the back my chair, his fingers brushing my arm gently as I looked up at him, but he was already looking at me with those lovely green eyes fondly, tenderly.
“Hmm…” My mother suddenly mused, her fork pushing a carrot around her plate, catching our attention.
“I guess it’s a step up from those awful columns you used to write in New York. But I hope you’re still maintaining your professional contacts back home. You never know when you might need to... pivot.” My mother jabbed, clearly inferring to me possibly coming back to New York, and my eyes threatened to roll at her obnoxiousness, and her lack of happiness for me.
In the moment, I felt Jimmy place his hand lightly on my knee under the table, and I squeezed his hand, grateful for his calming acknowledgment.
“Perhaps… but I’m very happy here, Mom.” I said firmly. “This is where I want to be.” I finished.
This seemed to shut her up, and there was now an awkward tension in the air as we finished the rest of our dinner, the sound of clinking forks filling the air.
After dinner, as Jimmy and my father helped clear the table, with Jimmy even getting away to take me into the pantry closet for a quick and hot smooch, leaving me breathless as I tended back to my parents who were awaiting for us obliviously in the kitchen.
My mom and I soon found ourselves in the sitting room, with the delicate, antique teacups that Jimmy had gifted me as an early Christmas gift warming our hands. Slices of lemon meringue sat in front of us as we softly talked about what had been happening in back in New York since Cynthia’s last departure.
Jimmy and my father headed upstairs with my parents’ luggage. I could hear my father mentioning something to Jimmy about desperately wanting to see his studio that I’d discussed before. I assumed that’s where they were headed.
My mom and I’s strained conversation drifted, and we sat in an uncomfortable silence for what felt like an eternity until she broke the silence.
“So…” She started, her usual shrill of a voice was softer than usual. And her eyes, for once, I noticed, were not darting around the room. Her gaze was set on me. “You and Jimmy. How are things, really?” She pondered, genuine curiosity lacing her tone.
And I just blinked, at a loss for words, surprised by her directness, and the way she sounded like genuinely cared. Since the beginning, she’d dismissed our relationship, treated Jimmy as a phase, as just an indiscretion. Her sudden interest caught me completely off guard.
“Things are… things are good, mom.” I replied, a small smile forming on my lips. “Really good. Jimmy makes me so happy.” I told her, thoughts of Jimmy swirling in my head, making my heart flutter.
As she took a slow sip of her tea, her eyes got distant, almost thoughtful as she prepared her retort.
“You know, Cynthia," she said, her voice now lower, "when you first moved here, I… I had my reservations. England, living with him. It all seemed so impulsive, so unlike you. So far from everything you’d ever done in New York." She paused, then met my gaze, a rare look of vulnerability in her eyes.
"But seeing you now… you seem so different. You are happier. More settled, in a way. Even with the circles under your eyes." She offered me a small smile.
“I suppose I’m happy that you’re happy. You’ve done well for yourself here. Despite everything, you’ve really made a life here with him.” Her hand came atop of mine for a brief moment, a warm brush of her palm against my fingers, before she pulled away too quickly.
My breath was caught in my throat as I thought hard about her confession just now. Her unexpected words washed over me so intensely. Was this, perhaps, her acceptance? Maybe those Christmas miracles I’d watched in films really do exist…
Before I could even formulate a response, express the joy that was swelling in my heart, a jolting sound of electric guitars drifted into the room from upstairs. The song, or rather the solo they were playing, was unmistakable.
“Ah, this must be that Stairway to Heaven.” My mother judged quickly, almost making my jaw drop to the floor just at the sheer idea of her recognizing Jimmy’s music. “Your father really loves that one. He practiced all day and night preparing to play with Jimmy.” She laughed, sipping at her tea again.
“Let’s go give them an audience, Cynthia.” She raised up before me, clutching her tea cup in her hand as we travelled up the stairs together.
“Great architecture, here. The wood work is very nice.” She mumbled, her thin hand skimming up and down the stair railing.
I was left utterly stunned by her newfound attitude of Jimmy and I, our home, just… everything. I was left dumbfounded and at a loss for anything coherent to say as she continued to positively compliment the house all the way up to the third floor where Jimmy’s home studio was.
As we entered the studio through the large door, the soft glow of a standing lamp was the only illumination for our eyes to feast on the sight before us.
My dad stood next to one of Jimmy’s Marshall stacks, holding a Gibson Les Paul in his hands, of which I recognized to be Jimmy’s ‘Number 2’, one of his most prized possessions.
I could tell he was cradling it in his arms carefully as Jimmy stood beside him, his ‘Number 1’ in his hands, and his head bowed, his long fingers guiding my father’s, demonstrating a fretboard movement.
I watched as my dad’s face was nothing but seriously focused, his tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed in intense concentration.
The iconic notes of the Stairway to Heaven rang slightly clumsy from my father’s hands, but the notes were still undeninable as they filled the room.
Our feet shuffled on the creaky floor as my mother and I took a seat on the sofa across from them. At the sound of our moving figures, Jimmy looked up and saw us, and I could tell he was shocked to see my mother up here, especially since she’d done nothing but explain her distaste for his music, and rock music in general, since I’d begun dating him. My father was seemingly lost in the music, and didn’t even notice our presence.
Jimmy, though taken aback, offered us a huge, gratified smile, his eyes lingering on mine lovingly for a moment longer before turning back to my father, spouting off another stream of instructions as they worked through the rest of Stairway.
And, surprisingly, my mother sat and listened… and, the kicker of it all - she seemed to genuinely enjoy herself while doing so.
I could only hope that the rest of their visit would be as seamless as this night had become - especially when little Scarlet was due to arrive in just a couple days to spend Christmas with Jimmy and I.
-
A/N
Hellooooo! Hope you all hadn’t been waiting too long for this, and I was so, so excited to share the first part of Jimmy and Cyn’s first Christmas together!
I just want to say that I was so overwhelmed by the support and love that I receive from you all, especially on my last update, which was long overdue. It feels wonderful to be back and writing every day again, and I am beyond excited to post part two VERY SOON!!
Love you all, thanks for reading, talk soon xxxx
Part Two: https://www.tumblr.com/classicrocknlove/817895607715889152/spread-your-wings
Jimmy Page would pop in for meetings, invariably looking underfed and trailing the bottoms of his flared jeans behind him. The girls found him charming. So polite! So thin!
"There was no 'eye of newt' or anything," remarks Unity MacLean, who left her job at CBS to become Swan Song's office manager and head of promotions. "Jimmy was a very pleasant, mild-mannered guy. He could be quite a nondescript character. The police picked him up one night and arrested him for stealing Jimmy Page's credit cards." But there was an aura, too, that this waif-like genius seemed to be able to switch on and off, as though he were half-mortal and half-Paganini.
Daniel Treacy, a King's Road teenager who spent a summer working at Swan Song, remembers his first encounter with Page. "Unity had told me not to look at him or speak to him," Treacy says. "He came in, looking very smart in a black frock coat with a scarf. I'm not joking, but it was like an icy cold blast blowing into the room on one of the hottest days of the summer." MacLean judged Page to be "an inquisitive man in awe of his own talent and presence. He was a little bit like quicksilver. Hard to get hold of."
“I’m just looking for an angel with a broken wing…. But somehow, they always seem to fly, fly away…”
-
Chapter Thirty Four
(Explicit Content Below)
Saturday, December 1st, 1973
Plumpton, East Sussex, England
Cynthia’s P.O.V.
“So, you’ll be aright going without me, then?” The rarity of England’s December sun shone through the bedroom windows as I glanced over at Jimmy, leaned against the doorframe of our bedroom, a half-eaten piece of toast dangling in his hand.
I pulled the brush through my tangled hair, wincing slightly as it caught in a knot as I finished getting ready for the day. “I guess… but she’s your tailor… I’m not really sure I’m comfortable going alone.” I pouted as I watched him sigh behind me before he began to stroll across the bedroom to me.
He enveloped me in his arms from behind and I encircled his arms around my waist with my own as I returned his sigh.
“Nothing to worry about, Cyn. She’s a nice lady, gives proper customer service, unlike the rest of the lot in this town. She’s never looked at me or treated me like I’m different or famous.” Jimmy assured me as he admired my body, clad in only my bra and panties, in the mirror.
“I’ve spoken to her on the phone, she’ll be expecting you. She’ll make you look even more beautiful than you already do.” He took another bite of toast. “Just tell her it’s for Richard’s wedding. She knows the drill.“ I nodded, the uncertainty still written on my face.
I wasn’t exactly keen on going to a stylist that has been servicing Jimmy, especially a female one. He spoke highly of her and I shouldn’t have anything to worry about. But, I couldn’t help but begin to wonder if she was another woman that Jimmy had ever… I internally cringed and pushed the thought from my mind. The after effects of Jimmy’s past behavior just a couple months before still sent an unsettling ripple through me.
“She’s made some of my stage gear, you know. She gets it.” He kissed my temple with a mouthful of the toasted bread, as his unoccupied hand rubbed at the skin of my tummy. “Just trust me on this one. It’s the little shop near the old clock tower. You can’t miss it.” He patted my waist reassuringly as he kissed at my face once more, peering at me happily in the mirror.
“And you can’t come with me because…?” I asked, spinning in his arms, leaning further into his embrace as I looked up at him.
“Band stuff, love. Last minute. We’re soon to hit the studio, and we all have got stuff we need to share. And Peter’s pulling his hair out about this goddamn movie. I’m needed.” He sighed a soft puff of air against my hair as he held me tighter. “I’d rather be with you, watching you try on dresses, believe me.” He patted the small of my back reassuringly. “But I must go. Sofia will take care of everything, nothing to fret about, Cyn.” He squeezed me gently, placing a soft kiss on my lips before retreating, heading out the room, shoving the last bit of his toast in his mouth.
I nodded, a vague unease settling in my stomach as I began to get dressed. Shopping for clothes, especially for a formal event like Richard’s wedding, felt like a minor ideal. But doing it alone, without Jimmy’s reassuring presence, amplified my anxiety. Jimmy had a way of making me feel calm, relaxed, and beautiful no matter what I wore, and his confidence always rubbed off on me. Without him, I felt a little uncertain of the whole thing, and I tried my best to push my apprehensions aside as I readied myself.
“Alright,” I said, as I reached the bottom of the stairs where Jimmy was stood in the foyer. “Wish me luck.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I clutched as my purse on my shoulder.
He grinned as he took me in his arms, kissing me long and hard, leaving me breathless with the ascent of his soft lips. “You won’t need it. You’ll be stunning, whatever you choose, love. I can’t wait to hear all about it when you get back.” He rested his forehead against mine for a moment, our eyes connecting before our lips met once more.
~~
The drive to Plumpton was short, with the countryside rolling by in a blur as I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel along to the radio.
I found the boutique quicker than I thought, nestled between an antique shop Jimmy and I had gone into many times and a busy bakery on the other side. It was exactly as Jimmy described, quaint and unassuming from the outside.
A couple of hip outfits and elegant dresses graced the window display, and my heart thumped a nervous rhythm against my ribs as I parked across the street.
I pushed open the heavy glass door, a chime announcing my arrival and catching the attention of a lady at the register across the store.
A woman emerged from behind the tall, marble counter, her smile widening as she approached me. She moved with an easy grace, her dark hair pulled back in a loose braid that cascaded over one shoulder. Her eyes sparkled with genuine kindness as she began to speak, reaching me.
“Cynthia?” She questioned, her smile unwavering.
I nodded, still taking in her features, trying my best to return a smile and swallow down my nervousness.
“Ah, so you are the special lady Jimmy has told me about!” She said, her voice laced with an unidentifiable accent as she moved towards me, her arms spreading wide. “And my, what a gorgeous little thing you are!” She took me into a friendly hug, patting my back before pulling away, her warm smile still spread across her rosy cheeks.
A strange relief washed over me as I let out a breath I had seemingly been holding. Her energy was infectious and disarming and I felt a faint blush creep up my neck at her compliment. I couldn’t stop the smile that grew on my face as I thanked her.
“I am Sofia, it is a great pleasure to meet you.” She continued, her vanilla scented perfume emanating from her as she gestured for me to follow her.
“Jimmy said you needed something for a formal event, yes?” She inquired, taking a small clipboard into her hands, reaching for the pen that sat above her ear.
“Yes… uhm, a close friend’s wedding.” I managed, feeling my shyness begin to recede under her kind gaze.
Her eyes widened, a flicker of excitement igniting in her gaze. “A wedding! Oh, how wonderful! Well, it is an honor, truly, that you chose me to help with this.” She clapped her hands together softly, her enthusiasm bubbling over as she took me to a section where I could see a bunch of long, elegant dresses were hung. “Come, come! We have much to discuss and much to explore!” She took my hand in hers and led me towards the endless supply of gowns.
She began to whisk through a section of the boutique where an array of long dresses hung, some of the embellishments shimmering under the light. Every dress was exquisite, each one like a work of art and I had no idea where to start, or what I even liked.
My eyes darted from a sapphire blue gown that cascaded like a waterfall to a plum purple dress adorned with intricate beadwork. I sighed a long breath, already feeling overwhelmed by my choices.
“So, tell me…” Sofia began, her voice dropping softly as she led me closer. “What kind of statement do we wish to make? What are your thoughts? You want elegant? A sort of hollywood classic?” She winked, a mischievous, inquisitive look in her eyes.
I laughed. It was all I could to not burst into a nervous breakdown. “I guess I’d like something that feels like me, but a slightly more… elegant version of me. Not too flashy.” I shrugged, feeling like all of these embellished, bejeweled, glittery dresses were too much for my liking. They looked like something my mother would pick out for me. Granted, they were nice, expensive looking. But I wasn’t sure I was ready for all of that shimmer just yet.
“Noted, darling. Let’s see what we can find, hm?” She smiled as she turned back to the numerous racks.
“Oh, Cynthia. Before we begin to try things on, I must ask! You are what, a size zero? What a gorgeous figure you have! I’m most jealous!” She lightly whisked her hands up and down my torso, sizing me up in her eyes and even though I wanted to feel shy or uncomfortable, I just didn’t. Sofia had a way in making me feel welcome and comfortable in her presence. I’d never felt this way while shopping.
“I’m a size two, but you flatter me! My day has been made.” I smiled, charmed by her nice demeanor. I could tell she was genuine and cared about my feelings and the task of the day.
“Oh, my dear, we are just getting started!” She returned my smile with an even bigger one of her own as we continued to gaze and discuss the dresses. We both picked some gowns and they began to weigh down both of our sets of arms with the endless supply of dresses we’d grabbed for me to try on.
We took the dresses back to the fitting area, and I kneaded the cool silk of the first dress between my fingertips. I slipped into the silver silk gown, and it fit wonderfully. It was undeniably beautiful, but when I looked at my reflection, something just felt off. It was elegant, yes, but it didn’t quite do it for me.
I emerged from behind the curtain, feeling a little self-conscious. Sofia immediately rose from her perch on the edge of the velvet chaise, studying me with her talented eyes.
“It’s nice.” I offered, turning slightly in the mirror, smoothing the dress once over with my hands. “But… I don’t know. It feels a bit cold on me.”
She nodded slowly, her lips pursed in thought. “I see. It’s the color, perhaps. It does not quite capture the warmth of your skin. But the silhouette, you see, it works!” She smoothed her hand over the fabric on my waist before nodding. “On to the next!” She whisked another dress into my hands before she retreated back to her seat.
This time, she’d chosen out a deep blue dress for me, with its rich velvet that seemed to absorb all the light in the dressing area.
I tried it on. And while the velvet did feel luxurious, and the color was indeed stunning, it was much too heavy, almost suffocating. It felt more like a costume than a dress.
“It’s beautiful.” I said, coming toward the large mirror outside the curtain again. “But it feels a little… restrictive. I want to be able to dance and stuff, you know? I want to move freely.” I breathed, already feeling weighed down by the gown. I hoped Sofia would understand. Perhaps this dress would do wonders for a five-foot-ten, long-legged lady like herself. But I was all of five-foot-nothing, and felt as if the dress was like a personal ball-and-chain.
Sofia nodded and smiled, her attitude unperturbed and understanding. “Of course. We are not statues, after all. We are women, alive and always needing to be prepared for a dance!” She clapped her hands again. “Alright, then! We narrow the field. What about something with a little more flow, hmm?” She grinned kindly, grasping some more gowns from the rack, banishing the rest we’d picked, as they ultimately didn’t fit my taste.
The next few dresses followed a similar pattern as the rest had, and I was becoming to feel a bit defeated. I had first tried a pale pink gown that made me feel completely washed out. Next, was a flowy navy blue with intricate lace detailing that felt much too prim for me. It reminded me of something my mother would have chosen. Then I tried a gold dress that, while certainly glamorous, made me feel like I was wrapped in tinsel. Though we were approaching Christmas time, I didn’t feel tinsel-toga would be appropriate at a wedding… or anywhere, really. With each dress I tried, Sofia always offered a thoughtful critique. She was careful to never be dismissive, and she stayed very encouraging.
“We are getting closer, my dear.” She said, her voice calm despite my growing frustration. “Each ‘no’ brings us closer to the magnificent ‘yes’.” She offered me a soft hug as I turned in her arms with a groan, back to the fitting room,
My shoulders slumped a little with each of my next failed attempts. I began to think Jimmy’s faith in Sofia, and in my ability to find something, might have been misplaced. The wedding was a week away, and a cold panic now began to twist in my stomach.
“I don’t know, Sofia.” I finally confessed, leaning against the dressing room frame, a purple chiffon dress clutched in my hand. “Maybe I’m just not a dress person. Or maybe I should just wear something I already own.” I shook my head with an exasperated sigh, tears beginning to well in my eyes.
Sofia’s eyes immediately met mine, a soft, understanding expression forming on her face. She came closer, placing a comforting hand gently on my arm.
“Nonsense.” She murmured, her voice firm, but kind. “Every woman is a dress person. Sometimes, the dress just needs to find her. And I have a feeling… I have a very strong feeling… that her, your, dress is waiting.” She breathed, her eyes scanning about the shop, darting from rack to rack to rack, mumbling small thoughts to herself for a moment before she snapped her fingers, like a lightbulb had just gone off in her head.
She turned, her gaze sweeping over a less prominent rack, sort of tucked away in the corner by the shop’s window. Her eyes lit up suddenly, fiercly. She moved with purpose toward the rack, pulling out a dress I hadn’t even noticed before.
It was red. Not crimson or cherry or candy apple. This was a rich scarlet color, and immediately quickened my pulse as I looked at it. It was a flowy fabric, with a sweetheart neckline, paired with an open back that plunged dramatically, revealing skin of one’s back. But the most striking detail was a long, flowing scarf, integrated into the design, that wrapped around the neck and cascaded down the back, complimenting the open cut.
“This!” Sofia announced, her voice filled with triumph. “This is it, Cynthia. This is your dress. Oh, I can feel it.” Her eyes were wide with adoration as she lifted it elegantly, bringing it over.
I stared at it for a moment, a mixture of awe and trepidation swirling within my mind. It was daring, absolutely gorgeous. It was undeniably sexy and so utterly different from anything I usually wore. My wardrobe leaned towards earth tones, blacks, whites, gentle silhouettes, things that blended rather than stood out. This dress certainly wasn’t for just blending in.
“It’s… wow.” I breathed, taking it from her. The fabric felt cool and soft in my hands.
“Go on…” Sofia urged, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Try it, love.”
I retreated back to the dressing room once more, my heart thumping with anticipation.
I slipped the dress on, and once I’d had it on, I realized that Sofia was spot on with this one. It was magnificent. The sweetheart neckline flattered my breasts without being overt, and the open back was a bold statement. I reached for the scarf, wrapping it around my neck, feeling the luxurious fabric drape down my spine. I felt out of body as I stepped out, my breath catching in my throat as I met my reflection in the full-length mirror.
The red was electrifying. The dress seem to cling to my body in all the right places, then flowed outwards, and it was the first dress that just felt… right. I felt confident and comfortable in it. I loved the scarf, too. It was different, and it seemed to add an element of drama, or like a look of Hollywood glamour. I looked different. Almost transformed. And I immediately knew that this was the one.
Sofia was looking on, gauging my reaction in the mirror, waiting patiently as she rose slowly from the chair.
Her eyes were wide with admiration as a genuine gasp escaped her lips.
“Oh, Cynthia, my dear!” She gaped, her voice thick with emotion as he came up beside me. “Look at you! Beautiful!” She breathed, her eyes darting up and down my figure in the mirror. “Jimmy will lose his mind!” She smiled joyfully as she softly raised her hand up to finger at the fabric slightly.
I gazed at myself, a mix of exhilaration and disbelief washing over me as my eyes moved about the dress. This dress certainly showed a side of me I rarely expressed, a boldness I often kept hidden. But in this dress, it just felt natural. It felt amazing and I had to have it. And I knew Jimmy would absolutely love it.
Sofia circled me, her hands hovering about my waist but not quite touching. “The length is perfect, the drape is wonderful. A few minor adjustments, of course. Here, a little nip in the waist, perhaps. And the hem, just a bit.” She produced a pincushion from a small, embroidered pouch in her pocket and began to work, her fingers deft and precise, placing tiny pins with practiced ease.
“I love it… it’s perfect.” I finally spoke, still staring at my reflection, mesmerized.
“It is.” She agreed, a small smile playing on her lips as she paused to look up at me with a beaming grin. “It truly is.” She nodded.
Soon, the pins were in place, marking the little alterations needed for the dress. Sofia stepped back, admiring her work before she spoke once more.
“Alright, my darling…” She started. “Let’s get you out of this before you fall madly in love and refuse to leave without changing.” She laughed, making me giggle as she led me back to the dressing room, her hands already reaching for the zipper.
Once I was back in my own clothes, a sense of happiness and an ease of anxiety returned, mingled with the lingering excitement of my new dress. I walked towards the counter, feeling a spring in my step as I felt myself unable to stop smiling.
“I’ll take it, then!” I said, a wide smile spreading across my face. “The red one, definitely.” I nodded, pulling out my purse, Jimmy’s check book poking out of the top.
Sofia beamed, her eyes sparkling as she looked back at the dress hanging in the back by the sowing machines.
“Excellent choice. You will look absolutely gorgeous. I will have it ready for you in a few days. Perhaps by Wednesday, Thursday at the latest. I will call you.” She had me write down my phone number, and we exchanged a few more kind words as I retreated, bursting at the seams with excitement.
As I reached for the shop’s door, Sofia called out, stopping me in my tracks. “Wait! One moment, dear!”
She hurried over to a small, glass-encased display near the counter, filled with an array of delicate, vibrant flowers. They were tiny, perfectly formed flowers, some fresh, some preserved.
“These!” She hurriedly explained as I walked to where to she stood. “They are boutonnieres. Little flowers for the gentleman. Perhaps for Jimmy?” She picked up a deep red rosebud, its petals vibrant within its delicate spiral. “To match your dress, yeah? A loving, subtle touch between you two.”
My heart fluttered. It was such a charming, thoughtful idea; Jimmy, with a flower pinned to his jacket’s lapel, to match my dress. It was exactly the kind of romantic gesture he would adore.
“Sofia, that’s lovely!” I said, genuinely touched. “He’d love that.” I smiled, my fingers kneading softly at the velvety petals.
“Perfect!” she declared, placing the rosebud carefully in a small, tissue-lined box. “I will set it aside for you. A little surprise for him.” She gave me a conspiratorial wink.
I laughed as she pulled me in for a kind, warm hug. “Thank you for everything… really, thank you.” I pulled back, returning her smile with one of my own.
“It is my pleasure, my dear.” She replied, her smile radiant as I pulled back, heading for the door. “I will see you soon!” She called to me as I looked back once, nodding with a smile on my face that could have been seen a mile away.
~~~
The weekend came quickly. The alterations Sofia had done to my dress were perfect. It was no wonder Jimmy suggested her, her work was seamless and quick.
Jimmy had requested to go along with me to my alteration appointment and see me try on the dress, but I insisted that he be surprised. He huffed and puffed his complaints about not being ‘involved’, but this dress was just so daring, I really wanted to surprise him with it the day of the wedding.
He had been so energized by his band work, but was also surprisingly focused on Richard’s wedding. He kept asking about the dress, a mischievous look in his eyes as he peered at me over the breakfast table Tuesday morning.
“So, what did you two conjure up, then?” He asked, leaning back in his chair, his guitar, as usual, resting across his lap, as he wiped a bit of syrup at the corner of his mouth. “Something for the ages, I imagine, ‘specially since you’re so keen on keeping it a secret.” Jimmy grumbled as his fingers picked at the strings on the neck of his Gibson.
Must he always be so… commanding, in charge? I’d admit, It’s hard to keep anything from him… especially with that face… I could just spill all my guts to him over a casual cup of coffee staring into those soft green eyes.
“You’ll see… stop whining.” I teased back, enjoying the mystery. “It’s a surprise.” I raised up, moving around the table to Jimmy, settling into his lap, my arms going around his neck to get closer, sweeping a kiss onto his soft cheek.
“Surprise? For me? Or for Richard?” He chuckled, kissing my lips, his tasting of the pancakes we’d just devoured. “I’m sure it’s lovely, whatever you chose, Cyn.”
~
Wednesday afternoon, Jimmy had picked me up from work with Ron, and we spent a couple of hours at our favorite antique shop just outside Sussex, searching for a wedding gift for Richard and his bride, Marilyn. The air inside of the dusty, sprawling home that was converted into a store was strong as we whisked ourselves around aimlessly, not quite sure what to purchase for Richard and his lady.
“I dunno, Richard’s a simple man, really.” Jimmy mused, running a hand over a collection of tarnished silver medals. “I’d just assume get him a few pints and he’d be bloody ecstatic.” Jimmy blew a hard puff of air through his nose as we both were stumped on what would be appropriate for them both.
As my eyes wandered the store, a glass case of stunning barware caught my attention.
“Jimmy, look! Those are beautiful!” I pointed at a stunning set of crystal tumblers with a matching crystal decanter with intricate detailed edging. “Every couple could use a nice set of glasses and such for their booze, hm? Especially the way Richard drinks.” I remembered, laughing softly as I gazed at the twinkling crystal underneath the warm lighting of the case.
“What do you think?” I tore my gaze away from the set to look up at Jimmy, and watched his eyes light up, a slow, approving grin spreading across his face.
“Those are perfect, Cyn. What an eye you’ve got.” He said, kissing my temple softly as he looked to the right of the glasses and decanter. “And look.” He pointed to the velvet, gold and blue swirled box that held the set, fit for a King and Queen. It had a small, gold leather band around it. “Perhaps we can have the shop manager engrave that for them.” Jimmy suggested and I thought it was a wonderful gesture.
I nodded hastily, a big smile spreading my lips as Jimmy went to find the shop’s help to aid us in engraving and purchasing the items for Richard and Marilyn. Just as Jimmy perceived, the shop’s owner took pleasure in engraving the box for us before carefully packing the crystal into each of its due slots, sending us off with the perfect gift.
We left the shop with a few other things that had taken Jimmy’s interest, before arriving back home.
Later that evening, back at Plumpton, we sat at the kitchen table, a blank wedding card spread between us. Jimmy picked up the pen I’d tossed him, twirling it between his fingers as he gazed up at me with those eyes.
“What shall we say?” He pondered, his voice turning playful as he reached for me.
I plopped in the chair next to him, shrugging, unknowing of what to exactly print. I’d never really given a card to a couple for such an occasion, but I suppose I had a little idea of what should be wished for the newly married couple.
“Hmm… something sweet and heartfelt.” I suggested. “And congratulations, of course.” I nodded, watching Jimmy think for a long moment before he began writing.
He scribbled a few lines, his handwriting unsurprisingly elegant, his loops of cursive dancing across the cream and gold cardstock as he wrote. Then, once he finished the short message, he paused, peering at me a bit nervously.
“And the signature?” He softly inquired, a shy smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“Just our names.” I replied, shyly shrugging, my cheeks flaming at my squeak of a reply. “Jimmy and Cynthia.” I suggested.
He looked back down at the open card, then back at me, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Hmm… perhaps not just ‘Cynthia and Jimmy’.” He turned back to the card, his hand moving at a deliberate pace as he finished it off with a signature.
I watched him sign it quietly, a warm curiosity blooming in my chest as he pushed the card towards me.
“With all our love and best wishes,
James P. Page and Cynthia R. Carpenter”
His beautiful writing of our names; his full name, my full name, side-by-side, looked so… right. A flush crept up my neck, warming my cheeks as I swallowed the ridiculous lump of nerves that formed in my throat.
Looking at our names out together like that left me breathless. There was a certain permanence to it, like a solidity that left a tingle sprawling through my body.
My villainous mind repeated a new possibility over and over in my head: Cynthia Page… James and Cynthia Page… Jimmy and Cyn Page…..
I quickly pushed the silly, hopeful thought away, praying my cheeks weren’t as red as they felt, but the warmth lingered in my body.
“What’s that look for?” Jimmy’s soft voice pulled me back to reality. He was watching me with a gentle amusement with those all-knowing eyes.
“Nothing…” I murmured, picking up the card, tracing the elegant writing of our names. “It just looks nice… our names together.” I bashfully admitted, the blush ever so prominent on my cheeks.
He reached up, his fingers tangling in mine, his lips coming to brush my cheek. “They do, don’t they?” His smile was so tender as my eyes reached his. “They always have.” He added quickly, and I couldn’t hold back my smile for anything in the world.
~
The days continued to march, with my work slightly getting in the way, until Saturday morning finally arrived, bathed in the soft glow of an English winter day. It was a sunny day, with leftover snow from last week’s snowstorm melting across the grass.
I stirred in our bed, feeling Jimmy’s arm tighten around me for a moment before he let out a soft groan, nuzzling my hair.
“Morning, love.” He murmured sleepily as he pressed a kiss to my hair. “Big day.” He grumbled, wiping a bit of sleep out of his eyes.
“It is.” I agreed, yawning and stretching, rising up to get an early start to the day. It was hard to leave Jimmy’s embrace, but left him to lay for a bit while I went and prepared a small breakfast for the two us.
He’d come down and drank some tea and had a couple pieces of toast as I tidied the kitchen, not wanting to come back home to a messy house after the long day ahead.
We had Richard and Marilyn’s ceremony, then their reception to look forward to, and it was always a late night with the Zeppelin crew. I knew there’d be no dishwashing nor tidying once we arrived home tonight, whenever that would be.
“Not a fan of weddings, y’know. They’re all just so… performative and the like. But I think this will be nice… seeing everyone, being there with you.” He said softly, breaking my train of thought as I dried the dishes on the counter.
I glanced over at him still sat at the table, and he diverted my gaze with a shy smile, returning back to what he’d been strumming on his guitar. I smiled to myself, feeling utterly whole as I finished the rest of my chores.
After breakfast, we showered together quickly, Jimmy’s hands finding mine under the spray and stream, kissing me, muttering small endearments into my skin as we bathed each other. We didn’t talk much, just enjoyed our quiet intimacy, our shared space before the bustling day ahead.
Afterward, we made busy in the bedroom, getting ready for the ceremony. Jimmy laid out his dark suit on the bed that looked crisp and ready while he fluffed at his hair.
I watched him, admiring the way his long fingers brushed and worked in his curls, looking impossibly handsome, even at this early hour.
“You’ll be longer than me.” He suddenly said, observing my array of makeup and hair tools on the bathroom counter. “I’ll get myself sorted, then head downstairs. I’ll get the present and things and check with Ron, make sure he’s got the car ready and all that.” He moved toward me quickly after throwing his dress shirt and suit pants on.
“Alright.” I agreed, nodding, already heading for the bathroom. “Don’t expect me too soon.” I giggled as he placed a quick kiss on my lips.
“Worth the wait, I’m sure.” He winked, landing a soft smack to my bottom before he disappeared, the soft click of the bedroom door shutting behind him.
I decided to do my hair first, carefully stylng it into soft waves that framed my face, then aimed to my makeup. I wanted to look elegant, sophisticated, not too much. My red dress was hanging patiently on the wardrobe door, making my body hum with anticipation as I hurried through the rest of my routine, time beginning to get away from me.
As I finished getting ready, sounds from downstairs were distant and muffled, but I could hear the clinking of glasses, Ron’s voice, and Jimmy’s occasional laugh.
Finally, once my hair was pinned the way I wanted it, and my last touch of makeup was applied, I stood in front of the mirror, taking a deep breath. It was time for the dress!
The weight of it was luxurious, but not too heavy as I slipped it out on, smoothing the skirt, letting it fall into its elegant form on my body.
Just as I finished fluffing and smoothing the fabric around my hips, Jimmy’s footsteps sounded on the stairs. I figured it was time to go and he must have been coming to check on me.
His footsteps grew closer, pausing for a moment before the door creaked open and Jimmy entered our bedroom.
He stood frozen just inside the doorway, glowing in the early afternoon light that filtered in from the hall windows. He was fully dressed in his suit that was perfectly tailored, one of his favorite scarves impeccably knotted around his neck. He looked gorgeous.
His eyes were fixed on me with a look I’d never quite seen before. As he took in the sight of me, his mouth softly opened, almost gaping at me from where he stood in the doorway.
The blush that had been present all morning fully erupted on my face, scorching my cheeks as I watched his eyes trail up and down my body.
I suddenly felt so shy under his gaze, even though he’s seen me in even my most vulnerable states, in every state of dress and undress, I felt bare under his intense gaze.
“Jimmy?” I said breathily, a little uncertain.
“Are you alright?” I softly smiled, shyly looking down at my feet, then back up at his wide-eyed wonderous impression. “Is… is this alright?” My voice sounded goofy, even to my own ears. I gestured vaguely at myself, feeling almost foolish, yet captivated by his silence.
He finally blinked once, then again, as if shaking off some spell that had been casted upon him. Then his familiar beautiful smile began to spread across his face and he hurriedly pushed off the doorframe, moving towards me.
“Alright?” His whispered in disbelief. “Cyn… you look absolutely incredible.” He stopped directly in front of me, his eyes still devouring every inch of me, then sweeping up to meet mine.
“It’s the dress.” I softly chucked, shaking my head bashfully, unsure of what to say.
“It’s not just the dress.” He assured me quickly, his hands coming up to caress my waist that the dress hugged perfectly.
“Though, this dress is exquisite, Cyn, baby.” His hands rubbed at the silky fabric, his fingers traipsing along my hips. “Red… Christ, I love red on you.” He breathed, his head coming down to place a soft kiss to my lips, then lower, trailing down my neck, leaving tickling kisses along my skin.
His arms wrapping around my waist more firmly, pulling me gently against him. The crisp fabric of his suit felt cool against my bare arms as I embraced him back, relishing the feeling of his body against mine in this serene moment.
I could feel the hum of his throat as he lifted his head once again, giving me a lasting look that furthered my blush.
“Really, Cyn, love. You are breathtaking…” He murmured, his lips brushing mine. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful. How’ll keep my hands off of you today?” He continued his sweet endearments into my ear as my smile grew, catching his eyes once more.
“Oh, Jimmy… you look amazing, too. So handsome.” My thumb stroked at his soft cheek as I leaned into him, inhaling his familiar scent, my arms wrapping around his neck, my fingers finding themselves in the soft curls at his nape.
Despite his continuous admirable gaze and tender praise, I still felt a bit out of place in the flowing dress, my anxiety flowing back into my head for a moment. I paused before I spoke once more, looking down at the dress and looking back up at Jimmy’s smiling eyes.
“You don’t think it’s too much?” I whispered.
He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes deeply, his shining with an intensity that made my heart pound in my chest. “Too much? Absolutely not. It’s perfect… you are perfect. Don’t ever doubt that, all right, Cyn?” He kissed me passionately, his tongue softly mingling with mine, his mouth tasting of whiskey and his usual minty flavor.
When we finally broke apart breathlessly, a small, hopeful smile played on my lips before I reached for the velvet box on the dresser. “I got a little something for you too.” I said, pulling away softly as he watched me, intrigued.
I opened the black box, revealing the perfect red rosebud boutonnière that Sofia and I had picked out at the shop.
“I chose it for you once I’d decided on the dress…” I explained, carefully taking the boutonnière from its box. “We thought it’d go nicely with your suit. A-and with my dress.” I stumbled over my words, shyly holding it up, the elegant crimson rose a gorgeous contrast to the dark, velvet fabric of his lapel.
He looked at the rose, then at me, a sweet, thoughtful smile forming his mouth.
I reached up, carefully pinning the rose to his lapel, just above his heart, my shaky fingers brushing against the small of skin his top button exposed. The deep red of the rose was a perfect match for my dress, and I hoped he liked it as much as I did.
He looked down at it on his jacket, then caught my gaze with his once again, his smile deepening, his emerald eyes crinkling at the corners. “You are really something you know that?” He kissed me softly, once, twice, three times, unable to pull away.
“It’s wonderful, Cynthia. Really, thank you for thinking of me.” He reached out, his hand gently cupping my cheek. He leaned in again, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before he spoke once more. “I’m so happy, love… God, I love you so much, I do.” His words were so simple and sincere, but filled me with such an intense joy, such a whole feeling of love, that it took my breath away.
We stood there for another moment, just holding each other, before I glanced up at the clock, realizing we were now running a tad late.
“We should probably get going, Jimmy.” I finally whispered, even though I wanted to stay wrapped in his arms forever.
“In a minute…” He agreed, but made no move to release me immediately. His kisses and touch lingered on my skin a while longer until he pulled back, taking my hand and lacing his fingers through mine. “C’mon then, my love.“
As we walked hand in hand down the stairs, the long, flowing skirt of my dress wafted around my feet, my heel catching on the fabric, making Jimmy pause and look down.
“Careful, now.” He cautioned, one hand firm in mine, his other reaching down to gather a handful of the red fabric, lifting it gently to aid my walking. “Let me help you, love.” We walked the rest of way steps down to the foyer with my hand entwined in his Jimmy’s, his other hand romantically occupied with a handful of my dress to keep me from tripping. I felt like a princess.
God… how incredible can this man get?
His words and sweet, soft gesture made my heart swell as we descended the rest of the stairs, his hand still holding the fabric, guiding me.
Ron’s smiling face met us at the bottom of the stairs where he nodded respectfully, his gaze sweeping over us, lingering for a fraction of a second on the matching red accents.
“My, don’t you two look wonderful! What a dress, Cynthia! Ready when you both are.” He announced, his smile unwavering as he hugged us both.
Jimmy squeezed my hand as he led me out into the bright afternoon sun, to the car, Ron opening the back door for us before retreating to the drivers seat.
I smoothed the silk of my dress down as it clung to me like a second skin. I glanced at Jimmy beside me, his dark eyes already fixed on me in the heated backseat, a familiar warmth spreading through my body under his gaze.
“Still can’t get over that dress, love.” His lips brushed my ear as he spoke softly. His long, elegant fingers traced the bare skin of my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. “Christ, you are really something, I tell you.” Jimmy was in the middle of placing a kiss to my cheek as Ron spoke up from the drivers seat.
“Told you, Jimmy; never seen anything quite like it, your Cynthia. She’ll be turning every head in that church, she will!” He met my eyes in the rearview mirror, a grin spreading across his face.
A blush bloomed on my cheeks, a deeper shade than my dress itself as I settled further into the leather beneath me, feeling even more shy than I had just moments ago in the foyer. “Thank you both, but I believe you are giving me too much credit. You’ve been saying this since we walked out the door.” I giggled as Jimmy raised his brows at me.
“Because it’s true, isn’t it?” Jimmy’s thumb caressed the skin of my hand, his gaze tapering down my body, then back to my eyes. “It’s perfect, just like you.” He leaned in, his lips finding the soft curve of my neck, a shiver running down my spine at the feel of his soft, wet lips on the sensitive spot above my collarbone.
The world outside seemed to fade as Jimmy kissed and kissed me, in such a profound way, as if he was savoring every dance of our lips against one another’s. His hand moved from my waist to slide up my back, his fingers tangling in my hair as he deepened our kiss.
“You know…” I murmured against his mouth, pulling back just enough to catch my breath. “We’re going to a wedding, Jimmy. Not eloping ourselves.” I joked breathlessly, taken aback by his sudden insatiable ways at the moment.
“Not yet.” He chuckled, throwing me a soft wink, his small statement making my cheeks flame, and, noticeably, Jimmy’s too - once he’d realized what he had said.
We continued on with our commute to the church where Richard and Marilyn were to be married. Jimmy and I continued our chitchat with Ron, the two of them continuing to fuss over me, making me warm and pink-cheeked all the way to the church.
We were there before long, and were one of many guests to arrive at this time, about a half hour before the ceremony was supposed to begin.
The car soon slowed, gliding to a halt in front of the quaint church, its old stone spiral reaching the sunny sky as I squinted up at it.
As we stepped out, I pulled my wrap around my shoulders, the cool air enveloping my bared skin in the December chill.
Jimmy emerged next to me, his hand immediately finding the small of my back as we approached what looked to be most of our camp standing outside the door of the church.
“Bloody hell, look who it is!” Bonzo’s booming voice cut through the chatter on the grass, and I turned, my eyes landing on John’s broad grin, along with a cigarette dangling from his lips. Pat was beside him, offering us a warm smile as they walked toward us.
“Hey guys!” I smiled wide as Pat and John pulled both Jimmy and I in for soft hugs before we turned to Robert and Maureen standing at our side, returning our grins with some of their own.
“Cynthia, my God, you look absolutely radiant!” Maureen’s kind eyes swept over my dress as she pulled me in for a tight hug. “Doesn’t she, Robert?” She looked up at him once before turning back to me.
“Like a bloody phoenix, love! Dig the red.” Robert’s gaze was admiring as his infectious laugh echoed in the air. After hugging them both, my eyes darted up and down their outfits, Robert in jeans as usual, but his torso was, for once, covered up with an embellished shirt, a suit jacket on top of it. Maureen was stunning in her dark blue gown, a mix of frills and fringe, and I thought the dress really complimented her gorgeous olive skin.
“You both look wonderful. That blue on you is gorgeous, Maureen.” I smiled as my hand gently smoothed the soft blue fabric that cascaded down her arms.
Robert softly pulled me aside, Jimmy’s hand lingering in mine, a curious look on his face as we watched Robert whisper to me.
“Well, darling… I assume the two of you have worked it all out then, yeah?” Robert mused, peering down at me with his soft smile. I nodded up at him with a faint, content and happy expression, tightening my grip in Jimmy’s hand.
Before the six of us were to walk in the church, Bonzo had sidled a bit closer to me, his usual boisterous, loud energy subduing slightly as he fidgeted with his hands before speaking.
“Aye, Cynthia… about Halloween, love…” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet, contrition lacing his tone. “I just wanted to say I’m really sorry. Got a bit carried away, didn’t I?” He glanced from his feet back to my eyes. “No excuse, mind. My mouth had just seemed to run away with me.” Bonzo shook his head as Jimmy began to pull me forward with the rest of my our group.
Before we entered the church, my hand instinctively reached out to reassuringly touch Bonzo’s arm. “John, it’s really alright.” My smile and acceptance was genuine as I looked into his earnest eyes. “Honestly, I know you didn’t mean anything by it. Water under the bridge?” I squeezed his arm gently. “Don’t even think about it again.” I reassured him, offering a closed-mouth smile, hoping to ease his still-guilty feelings.
But, suddenly, a wave of relief seemed to wash over him, and he let out a breath he had been holding since his apology. “Good lass you are, Cynthia. Thank you.” Bonzo took a swig of his flask from his pocket as he flashed me his bright, crooked smile.
“Right then, let’s head in, yeah?” Pat nudged Bonzo, linking the three of our arms together.
“Aye. Don’t want to miss Richard’s big moment.” Bonzo stifled a laugh as a church member held the door open for us.
“Richard’s big moment, or the free pints later?” Robert teased him, making Bonzo howl a laugh as he offered him a furious nod in agreement.
“Both!” Bonzo declared, his usual roisterousness returning. They all flicked their cigarette butts into a nearby bin as we entered the church, outlined in white florals and frills. The stained-glass windows casted a beautiful, colorful light across the stone floor and freshly polished pews as we made our way to the seats up front by the altar.
“John and Mo are holding seats for us.” Maureen whispered to me, her voice hushed. Before I could respond to her, Robert butted in, his eyes darting around the people gathered in the church, seemingly searching for someone or something.
“I think Peter was meant to be here, but he’s probably still wrangling some poor sod for Richard’s present.” Robert chuckled, making the rest of us giggle as we spotted Mo and John Paul in the second pew to the right.
As we navigated the narrow aisle, heads turning as we passed, I felt a familiar thrill run through me, a whip of pride and belonging warming my body as I walked with my dear friends, and with Jimmy’s hand in my mine.
We were welcome by Jonesy and Mo’s smiling faces as they turned and spotted us approaching.
“There you are!” Jonesy’s voice carried through the church. “Thought you lot may have taken a detour to the pub!”
“Glad you all made it.” Mo smiled, he eyes looking up at the sky light wafting in from above. “Lovely day for it, isn’t it?” We all agreed before exchanging hugs and greetings, softly discussing what we’d all been up to.
We soon settled into the pews after talking with a few other guests that had approached us, finding myself between Jimmy and Maureen, Jimmy being the first in the pew.
The air built with anticipation as the only thing that filled the air were the soft whispers of awaiting guests.
Soon, a gentle melody of organ music filled the space in the church, vibrating through around the pews, everyone began to quiet down to await the bride the groom respectfully.
Just as the music began to reach a crescendo, sounding as if the wedding party would be entering the church any moment, a large rustle sounded at the back of the church, catching our attention.
As the heavy wooden doors at the back of church shut loudly, Peter strode in sheepishly, his large frame carrying him swiftly down the aisle, his bulk moving toward us at rapid speed. My eyes flashed to the clock, it is about the time that Richard and the ushers would start surrounding the altar. Peter had just made it.
“Blimey, how’re you all? Bloody traffic’s a menace coming South.” Peter muttered as he squeezed into the pew at the very end, shoving Jimmy’s much smaller frame over effortlessly.
He ran a hand over his thinning hair as he spoke once more. “Not to mention that bloody automotive shop took forever to get me the blasted thing.” Peter grunted, wiping a couple of sweat beads upon his forehead.
“The present?” Jonesy leaned over to inquire, his face holding a look of amusement at Peter’s continuous sweating and complaints.
Peter nodded, finallly pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at his eyebrows. “Aye, Richard’s always wanted one of those things. Managed to track one down, got a right deal on it too, but getting it to the reception venue without it ending up in pieces was a feat of engineering, I tell you.” He let out a puff of air as he finally settled down a bit. “But it’s there now, safe and sound. And that bastard had better appreciate it.” He suddenly glanced down at his watch before looking back up at the rest of us. “Looks like I made it just as the show’s about to start.” He chuckled as Richard and his groomsmen, presumably some male family members, began to walk down the aisle with Marilyn’s bridesmaids.
Richard gave us a wide-eyed wiggle of how eyebrows as he stood up at the alter, his hands folded in front of him as he awaited his bride.
We all shot a smile and I even threw a thumbs-up to Richard and he softly laughed before the organ music finally raise. All of our heads turned to the back of the church as collective gasp ran through the congregation at the sight of Richard’s bride, Marilyn.
As she glided down the aisle, her smile was wide as she nodded to her left and right at us all who’d come to celebrate them both.
I looked back toward Richard who looked utterly smitten, a rare softness gracing his usual tough demeanor as he gazed at Marilyn.
“She’s beautiful.” I whispered, a lump forming in my throat as the sight of Marilyn, so full of happiness, was sort of infectious.
Jimmy’s hand found mine as we watched Marilyn walk the rest of the way up to the altar, intertwining our fingers. His grip was gentle, yet firm, and his long fingers softly caressed the skin of my skin. I glanced up at him as he squeezed, my heart doing a little skip as he smiled at me, then his unreadable gaze fell back on Richard and Marilyn.
But there was something in his eyes, something I couldn’t quite decipher, like a deep, yearning emotion, as if he was seeing not just Richard and Marilyn up at the altar, but something else entirely. Perhaps a reflection, or a look into the future. My body warmed at the possible thoughts running through Jimmy’s mind at the moment, perhaps picturing, or even considering a marriage between he and I. The idea sent a shiver down my spine, completely unrelated to the cool air that wafted around the church.
As the ceremony unfolded, the priest delivered a wonderful sermon and ceremony, with Richard and Marilyn exchanging rings, their hands visibly trembling slightly with nervous jitters.
“Do you, Marilyn, take Richard to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The priest asked her.
“I do.” Marilyn’s sure voice resonated through the church.
“And do you, Richard, take Marilyn to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The priest continued.
“I… I do.” Richard said, almost overcome by his emotions, and a bit of soft laughter, quickly hushed by others, passed through the pews.
Jimmy’s thumb stroked the back of my hand as I felt the weight of his gaze again, but it was even more intense this time. I looked up, meeting his longing eyes, that look that still lingered from before. It was a look that made me wonder if he was imagining us standing there, exchanging vows, promising forever. The thought of that was both exhilarating and terrifying, the sudden glimpse into a future I hadn’t dared to fully contemplate filling my head.
Once the priest pronounced Richard and Marilyn as husband and wife, the church erupted in applause. I watched as Richard leaned down and kissed Marilyn as we all cheered and smiled.
“Well, that’s that, then!” Bonzo declared, relief and excitement battling in his voice as he exhaled dramatically. “Time for a drink, I reckon!” He added, already making a move to squeeze by the rest of us to exit the pew.
“Easy there, Bonzo!” Robert chuckled, pulling him back by his suit jacket as he tried to spring from his seat. “Let’s let the happy couple make their exit first, eh?”
The organ suddenly bursted into a loud recessional, with Marilyn and Richard, hand in hand, walking back down the aisle, their faces alight with happiness as they passed, offering undeniable, blissful grins.
“He actually did it.” Peter grumbled, though a fond smile formed on his lips. “Never thought I’d see the bloody day.” He shook his head as we watched Richard and Marilyn exit the church.
As the pews began to empty, the familiar chaos of our small group reconvene, and we all headed for the doors.
“Everyone all right, then?” Peter boomed, taking charge. “Reception’s at the Manor House, about forty minutes North. Ron, you know the way, don’t you?” Peter asked Ron as he walked with Jimmy and I to the car.
“‘Course. Will have ‘em there on time, not to worry, Peter.” Ron called back reassuringly.
I felt a lightness in my step as I followed Jimmy out of the church, hand and hand, the sun now brighter than before. His intense, warm gaze still lingered on me and around at our surroundings, making me hot with wonder. I squeezed his hand, and he returned the pressure, his eyes meeting mine with a soft, reassuring smile that told e he was feeling the same.
“Ready for the party, then, love?” he asked in a dark-brown voice, his hand resting high on my thigh atop the silk.
“Yes…” I replied breathlessly, my heart soaring as he flashed me that smile and those eyes once more.
And now, the day, it seemed, was just beginning as the December sun began to shift while we drove aways to the venue for the reception.
~~
As the party began and as people started to arrive at the Manor House, a sprawling hotel-like structure, decorated beautifully with gold and lilac florals and table settings, the large ballroom’s seats were starting to fill.
Jimmy’s hand found the small of my back, guiding me through the endless amounts of wedding guests, all of whom wanted to shake Jimmy’s hand as we passed along.
The celebration was in full swing once Marilyn and Richard made their grand entrance, bouquet in hand, with Elvis’s ‘Burning Love’ sounding through the air.
Once we had finished eating, the beat of the live band began, and everyone was up on their feet dancing, drinks in hand.
“Quite the turnout, eh?” Jimmy leaned down, his breath warm against my ear, sending a shiver down my exposed back.
I looked up into his sparkling green eyes, now a bit lowered and darker, the alcohol he’d consumed over the last couple of hours starting to take effect. He was still in his dark-as-night velvet suit jacket over his silk shirt, its buttons undone low enough to hint at his porcelain skin beneath, his soft feather of chest hair. He looked so gorgeous, so sexy… a sight that easily made my body go all fuzzy and warm in an instant.
I nodded up to him, pulling my gaze away momentarily to look around, craning my neck to see over a particularly tall man’s shoulder. “Richard knows how to throw a party.” My voice felt light and airy, I could myself already buzzing from the couple of glasses of champagne I’d had.
“He certainly does.” Jimmy chuckled, his arm tightening its grip on my waist. “Looks like he’s having a time!” We watched Richard on the dance floor hop and twist crazily, surely the alcohol and the excitement of being just-married was fueling his enthusiasm.
We spent the next hour mingling around, Jimmy and the rest of band exchanging greetings with industry friends while I chatted with Mo, Maureen, and Pat.
But, I hadn’t failed to notice that Jimmy’s presence was like a magnet. I stood close and observed him, enjoying the energy he gave off and how everyone in the room stood and approached just to talk with him and have his attention for even a brief moment.
But all the champagne and few cocktails I’d gulped down, coupled with the constant stream of conversation, had begun to make itself known and my bladder felt like it was going to explode.
“I need to go the restroom.” I whispered, leaning into Jimmy’s side, softly kissing his cheek. “I’ll be right back.” I smiled and he turned, his gaze meeting mine. “All right, love. I’ll be right here.” He squeezed my hand in his once before releasing me into the crowd.
My ladies’ room trip was brief, thank God. I felt like anytime I went to any of these events with the guys, the bathroom always had an awaiting line, with most of the stalls taken with ladies whom, sometimes, weren’t always just using them to relieve themselves. The privacy of those bathroom stalls conveniently and frequently provided a space for girls at these wild parties to indulge in many other things.
I was already hopelessly missing being attached to Jimmy’s side during the few minutes I spent in the bathroom freshening up, and I emerged feeling much more refreshed, the cool water I splashed on my face aiding to the heated atmosphere of the reception.
As I stepped back into the main party room, my eyes sought out Jimmy, finding him by the bar, a smile stretching his lips as he watched Bonzo down two pints at once.
As I began to walk toward them, I suddenly saw a woman with long, flowing brown curls and bright red lipstick, approaching Jimmy with an intense predatory expression.
I stood back a little, stopping my jaunt momentarily as I watched the scene unfold.
She reached Jimmy and I felt my nostrils flare and my face get hot with irritation as I watched her lean in, her hand brushing his arm, her head tilting up toward him, a practiced smile plastered on her face.
I continued to watch, leaning against a pillar for support as a touch of something cold grew sharply in my gut as she spoke to him, the words she was saying unclear to me but her intent was clear.
I suddenly had a vision of pouring a glass of red wine all over her pale blue dress, and I tried my best to shake away my jealousy as I anticipated Jimmy’s next move.
And what thrilled me the most about this, is that he stood and remained completely impassive. I could tell he was trying to be polite, offering a soft nod to her, then slowly turning his back to her, dismissing her entirely as he signaled the bartender for drinks.
I continue to look on as the mystery woman’s smile faltered, her shoulders stiffening as she spun on her heel, her too-red lipstick now a grim, pursed line on her face as she stalked away, rolling her eyes in the process.
A laugh bubbled up and out of me at Jimmy’s obliviousness to the woman’s storming off, as he was still waiting for his order. A broad smile bloomed across my face, chasing away the brief jealousy that had taken over as I walked towards him, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.
Suddenly startled, he turned quickly, but then relaxed as his eyes settled on me, his hand coming up to cover mine where it rested on his stomach. “There’s my gorgeous girl.” He turned around, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled brightly. He held out a fresh glass of champagne of which I took a sip of before speaking, a smirk settling on my lips.
“That was priceless by the way.” I said, my fingers brushing his as I looked up at him, another giggle escaping my throat.
He raised his eyebrows curiously, feigning innocence. “Oh? What have I done now?” He took in my playful smile and returned one of his own as he awaited my next words.
“You know exactly what you did.” I took another sip of the champagne, the bubbles tickling my nose. “That poor woman. She looked ready to put the dukes up.” I giggled, looking back as if to try and spot if the woman had begun to prey on any of the other eye candy here. She certainly wasn’t having mine.
“Some just don’t take a hint, do they?” He shrugged, his promising eyes meeting mine once more. “Anyway, I was waiting for you.”
I let out a contented sigh as I leaned into him, the champagne, combined with his warm, close proximity to me, sent a warm flush through my body. Love was in the air, and I could feel it, could taste it with every word and every small smooch Jimmy and I shared. We drank, talked, and laughed, the alcohol loosening our limbs and our tongues as we caught up with the latest news alongside our favorite people.
After their strident set, the band had significantly slowed their pace a bit, allowing for Marilyn and Richard’s first dance, and a few other slow songs added to the mix to get the couples up and moving across the dance floor.
A familiar melody suddenly began to drift through the air, and I recognized it almost immediately.
“Earth Angel…” I murmured, recognizing the tune, looking up at Jimmy through my lashes as I smiled at the sweet lyrics that began to sound through the room.
Jimmy’s eyes found mine again, a loving look dancing within them as he spoke. “Fancy a dance, love?” He extended his hand to me, his long, elegant fingers beckoning mine to intertwine with them.
“I thought you’d never ask.” My cheeks warmed as he took my hand, leading me to a small clearing on the dance floor that was already littered with swaying couples.
He pulled me close, his arm encircling my waist, his other hand clasping mine as we pushed our bodies against one another’s. I rested my head rested against his shoulder as we swayed to the soft melody, his unique, intoxicating scent filling my senses. We became beautifully lost in the music and each other, murmuring small endearments to one another as we took our time on the dance floor.
It suddenly hit me that this was the first time Jimmy and I ever had slow danced with one another, well - properly slow danced, to a song other than his own, and in front of anyone.
God, I couldn’t imagine this moment being any different, any more perfect. And I couldn’t imagine ever feeling this thrill, this happiness, this love, for anyone other than Jimmy.
“You’re beautiful, Cyn.” He whispered, his lips brushing my temple. “But you’re miles away… what’re you thinking about, love?” He pulled back slightly, catching my eyes.
A shiver traced its way down my spine as I looked up into his pools of emerald green.
“Oh, nothing…” I said lightly, my cheeks blushing, hiding my face shyly in his lapel.
He chuckled as he pulled my chin back up to study me once more. “You’re no stranger to me, Cynthia. Can’t hide from me, y’know.” His fingers intertwined with mine, squeezing gently, bringing my hand up to lay a kiss upon the back of it. “And I could stay like this forever, just holding you.”
“Me too.” I replied, unable to articulate much else, completely engrossed in his soft voice and resplendent eyes.
My heart was now hammering against my chest as the party outside our small circle, our hazy island we’d formed in the corner of the dance floor, faded, replaced by the sway and brush of our warm bodies. His hand had moved from where it was squeezing at the curve of my waist, moving down further, tracing slow circles on my back, sending waves of sheer heat through me. I could feel the blush on my cheeks deepen, a delicious heat spreading through my body at the feel of his tantalizing touch.
As the song faded and the band was to start another, with Jimmy and I making no move to exit the dance floor, a loud, rough, insistent voice cut through the chatter in the grand room.
“Jimmy! Robert! Bonzo! John! Get up here, you lot!” Richard’s voice boomed as he stood on the edge of the stage, a microphone in his hand, a wide, inebriated grin plastered on his face. “Come on, boys! Grace us with a couple numbers!“
A groan rippled through the Led Zeppelin boys, with Bonzo seeming to be the only one willing to head up to the stage, his brute and inebriation carrying him up to the stage quickly, already snagging the drumsticks out of the drummer’s hands, who look utterly terrified to do anything else but release his drum throne to Bonzo.
“YEAH!” Bonzo roared into one of the microphones that hung over the cymbals, already testing out the drumkit in front of him. “Come on boys, for the happy couple!” He called out, his drunken eyes squinting out to the crowd, making me giggle as I realized he was looking in a totally different direction of the crowd from where the boys stood.
“Oh, for Christ sakes!” Robert grunted, shaking his head as he knew that if they didn’t head up there, Bonzo would have been just as content to stay up on stage and beat the poor drummer’s kit to bits and pieces.
Jimmy, Robert, and Jonesy’s grumbles and polite declinations were quickly drowned out by the enthusiastic cheers of all the wedding guests. Robert started to make his way to the stage, a wide, mischievous grin now mirroring Bonzo’s as he beckoned Jimmy and Jonesy to follow.
John and Jimmy still stood next to Mo and I, taking a moment longer to decide, their cheeks pink and their smirks telling all what they were surely about to do. All eyes turned to Jimmy as he looked at me, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Suppose duty calls, love.” He squeezed my hand chuckling as he began to depart and head up on the stage.
I squeezed back before letting go, urging him to join the others. “Go on!” I giggled as he practically skipped up to the stage, gladly taking whatever guitar the lead guitarist had offered him. Deep down, despite his shyness and his try at rejection just now, I knew he loved to not only perform, but to just play, seemingly with anyone, anytime, when the offer was made. He lived and breathed music, and I could tell from the look on his face as he began to quickly tune the guitar a bit differently to match whatever song they were discussing on stage, he was just thrilled to have a guitar in his hands.
The house band had a look of complete awe written all over their faces as they watched Led Zeppelin begin to command the tiny stage with their instruments.
As the first thumps of Bonzo’s drums and the first chords of their own ‘Rock and Roll’ sounded, the crowd erupted in a wave of energy that completely took over the room.
Everyone jumped out of their seats, tables were being slightly pushed aside, and the dance floor became a frenzied mass of bodies as the boys graced the stage.
Jimmy transformed into an other-worldly man, like a sorcerer, his face contorting in those sexy, intense faces he always makes when he plays, his fingers flying across the neck of the guitar effortlessly, his body moving with those unmistakable bumps and grinds on the stage.
I stood and watched, mesmerized, my eyes completely captivated on Jimmy’s everything, a thrill shooting through me at the sight of him making love to the instrument. It had been too long since I’d seen him like this, alive and electric on a stage. I loved watching him play any chance I could. The sight of him, his mouth slightly open, his eyes half-closed as he concentrated on the notes sounding from his skilled fingers was beautiful, sultry, downright dirty as he moved his hips along with the rhythm of the song.
It didn’t matter if this was an official gig or just their road manager’s wedding. Jimmy never did anything in halves. By the time they’d gotten into the second half of ‘Rock and Roll’ Jimmy was strutting and dancing around the small stage, his entire body responding to the music he was producing. It was one of those things that I loved most about him… one of the sexiest things, certainly. When I first watched Jimmy perform on stage when we’d first met, I used to sit on that little stool in the overheated backstage area of Madison Square Garden, wondering where he’d gotten these sort of moves from, until I realized it was just him. Sexy and sensual and simply enthralled with music, to the point where it possessed his mind and body at once.
The boys then tore through ‘Dancing Days’ as the room swirled with sweaty dancing bodies and vibrating sound. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the mood shifted once they’d finished that number.
A softer, more tender melody began, and the opening chords and lyrics of ‘Thank You’ rang through our ears. I could see Maureen next to me smile up at Robert as he sang, knowing he’d dedicated this beautiful song to her years ago.
Robert’s voice filled the space as he gestured to both Richard and Marilyn, whom, arm in arm, found their way back to the center of the dance floor, swaying gently, lost in the beauty of the moment. It was perfect, like a heartfelt serenade just for them on their special day.
Once they finished ‘Thank You’, we all thought they were finished, but it seemed that once the boys started, there really wasn’t any stopping them. As they began ‘Whole Lotta Love’, for which all of the guests cheered for, it was clear why Zeppelin did three to four hour long concerts on tour every night. Not only did they want to play, but the crowd, even a bunch of unsuspecting wedding guests, had no interest in Led Zeppelin leaving the stage. We all soaked up anything the boys played.
It was a shame Jimmy didn’t have his theremin to really kick the song into high gear, but that was all right. They did some improvisation, and Bonzo even did a thundering drum solo in the midst of it all, before they returned to the dirty rhythm of the song, finishing strong.
Though Maureen, Pat, Mo and I were all dancing and moving our bodies around the dance floor together, my eyes really never left Jimmy’s. He frequently met my warm gaze with hot, sexy looks of his own, always throwing a smile and a wink in there to make sure I was watching. He knew all too well that I was.
They ended their impromptu set with a half rendition of ‘Twist and Shout’ and ‘Train Kept-A-Rollin’ that left us all breathless and wanting more of anything that we could dance to.
My body was overheated by the time they got off the stage with all the guests hollering praises and offers to buy them drinks on their way down the stage steps. And when they finally emerged off the stage, they were soaked, hair plastered to their foreheads, grins wider than ever. I could tell they were more intoxicated than before, not just from the drinks tonight and in between each song, but from the sheer exhilaration of being back on a stage together for the first time since July.
I met Jimmy at the edge of the crowd, a handkerchief in hand that I pulled from his own suit jacket, ready for him.
His dark, sparkling eyes locked onto mine as he made his way over to me, his long legs carrying him swiftly amongst the guests.
“You were wonderful up there, Jimmy. You four are just incredible.” I smiled wholeheartedly, humming the last number they’d just played.
Jimmy flashed me his gorgeous smile before, without warning, pulled me into the corner of the party room and into a ravenous kiss, his lips tasting of sweat, champagne, and whiskey, his tongue invading my mouth before I could catch my breath. Taken aback, my fingers tangled in his damp hair, pulling him closer as I couldn’t resist kissing his soft, sweet lips back, over and over and over.
When we finally broke the kiss, our breathing was ragged, his chest still heaving from the energy he’d displayed on stage until he was finally able to speak.
“God, Cyn…” He rasped, his voice thick with desire as he blotted at his forehead with the handkerchief, his gaze never leaving my face. “You taste… mmm…” He kissed me once more. “Come with me.” He said lowly.
Without another word, he gripped my hand and pulled me along with him, and I did my best to keep up. My heart was pounding now, as I knew that look in his eyes, that determined look on his face.
He was taking me somewhere… the bathrooms, I thought, probably, a thrill coursing through me at the thought of it, remembering what we’d done last time he’d dragged me away to the bathroom at Jeff’s function we’d attended.
But when we reached the corridor leading to them, a frustrated grumble escaped his lips as he realized both doors were locked, a small sign hanging on each that sealed our fate: ‘Occupied.’
I watched Jimmy pause for a moment as his eyes scanned the space around us, before, as if a light bulb had gone off in his head, he tugged me towards a back exit, pushing open the heavy door.
The cool night air hit us, which felt much better than the stifling heat inside the venue. Jimmy led me across a short stretch of damp grass urgently, his pace quickening which each step. I struggled to keep up as his hand tightened on mine.
“Jimmy, where are we going?” My voice was a breathless whisper of confusion, though the anticipation and my own arousal was still coursing through me crazily.
He didn’t answer immediately, his focus fixed on a large, sparkling motorhome that was parked a hundred feet or so from the back door of the Manor House, its pristine exterior catching the glow of the distant lights. A giant red bow was affixed to the front grill and the thought of who it belonged to hadn’t clicked in my head.
“Don’t worry, love.” Jimmy finally said, turning his head to look at me properly, his sweaty hand caressing the skin of my palm. “I just… oh, Cyn… I just need you.”
He kissed me then, hard, making my breath catch in my throat as I softly moaned at the feel of his lips on mine again. The shamelessness of his words, the raw desire in his tone sent a jolt through me and my mind, already fuzzy from the champagne and double vodka cranberries, struggled to find anything wrong with this scenario.
But then, as we came close to the motorhome, I studied it for a moment and then I realized… it’s here for a reason, the bow on the front of it… realization struck me and a gasp escaped my lips as I pulled Jimmy’s hand back.
“Jimmy, we can’t! This is… this is Richard and Marilyn’s! Their brand new RV!” I exclaimed, shaking my head, thinking he was completely out of his mind to consider this.
Jimmy stopped at the door hearing my words, his hand already on the handle. He suddenly turned, his dark eyes burning into mine, and pulled me flush against him. His leaned down, his demanding, hot mouth descending as it met mine, his tongue plunging into my mouth once more, claiming me. His other arm wrapped around my waist, crushing my body against his, leaving no space between us as his hips pressed against mine, where I could feel his arousal, hard and throbbing in his dress pants.
“We haven’t much time,” he murmured, barely pulling away, mouthing the words against my lips, “before everyone notices we’re gone.”
He didn’t wait for my reply and pulled the door open, dragging me inside, the soft thrum of the distant music from the party now cut off completely.
I stumbled in after him, my head spinning, a daze of arousal and thrill washing over me as the alcohol continued to fuel this… this… whatever this is. And I would never admit that the sneakiness of this, the audacity of Jimmy and his overwhelming need for me, was incredibly turning me on. My tipsy brain offered no resistance as I followed him inside.
The door clicked shut behind us, the lock engaging with a soft thud before Jimmy, wasting no time, pinned me against the door, his body hot and heavy against mine. His lips found mine again, stealing my breath away as he kissed and nibbled at my swollen lips, groaning softly into my mouth as I tugged at his sweaty curls.
When he pulled back, his eyes were a darker shade of jade than ever before, so intense as he locked my gaze with his, his hands pulling me tightly against him.
“Oh, Cyn… watching you dance out there, watching you watch me, drove me absolutely mad…” He murmured, his delicate hand coming up to cart a stray curl behind my ear.
“You love watching me play, don’t you, Cyn?” His voice was low now, barely above a whisper, sending shivers through me as I tried to catch my breath. “Makes you hot, doesn’t it? Gets you wet?” He urged as his hand ghosted over my center through the silk of my dress.
I gasped as his fingers rubbed me though the fabric of the dress slowly, tauntingly, his dirty words hitting me with the force of a physical blow. My mind screamed yes, yes, yes… but before I could utter a sound, his mouth was on mine again, devouring me.
He turned me around suddenly, hoisting me onto the nearest surface, a polished wooden table on the other side of the motorhome. My dress rode up my legs and my thighs, exposing them as Jimmy stood between them, his hands immediately finding the soft skin of my inner thighs, pushing the fabric further up and out of his way.
My legs instinctively wrapped around his torso, pulling him closer, my heels digging into his lower back as our mouths breathlessly reconnected in a desperate, hungry kiss that symbolized how long we both had wanted this - probably since our shower this morning.
“Christ, you’re so soft.” He breathed against my lips, his fingers tracing the curve of my hip down to my thigh, his thumbs brushing the delicate skin near my center. “I love it… I love how you feel, Cyn.” His voice was a ragged whisper that made my thighs clench with desire. “I’ve been wanting to do this all bloody night.“ He informed me, his voice turning dark and dirty as he shifted.
His hand glided expertly under my dress as his fingers found the lace of my panties, his thumbs hooking themselves into my waistband before tugging them down.
His touch left embers of fire upon my skin as he slid my panties down my legs, tearing them off my heel-clad feet before his fingers found my damp folds, his hands feather-light as he touched me.
“Already so wet for me, aren’t you, my girl?” He murmured, his fingers exploring, teasing.
My hips instinctively rose against his hand, a soft moan escaping my throat as I bucked and shivered against his touch. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling, desperate for more, for anything,
Without warning, he lowered himself further, his head disappearing between my legs.
A gasp tore from my throat as Jimmy’s tongue found my center, moving skillfully up and down my most sensitive skin. His mouth worked with such an exquisite expertise that made my entire body hum. “God, I love how you taste…” He murmured into my center.
I felt numb, my body buzzing as my back arched, my fingers gripping his hair tighter, pulling him closer to me if that were possible, the sensation becoming overwhelming. A delicious fire spread underneath my skin as I relished the feel of him against me.
“Jimmy…” I whimpered, my voice barely audible above the sounds his mouth made against me, his moans that vibrated into my folds. “Oh God, yes. Please, don’t stop.” I managed, my hand cradling his head to keep him exactly where I needed him.
He continued, and knew exactly what he was doing, bringing me to the very edge of release as my body convulsed beneath him, a wave of tremors shaking me as I felt myself nearing the edge. But then, Jimmy pulled back just as I was about to shatter, kissing his way up my inner thigh, leaving a trail of wet heat in his path as he found my lips once more, a whimper escaping me at the loss of his mouth.
“Not yet, love. I want to feel you come apart around me.” He rose, eyes blazing, hair mussed as he tried to catch his breath. Both of our hands went to his belt, fumbling it off before unzipping his trousers, pulling them down, along with his underwear, in one swift motion. I unbuttoned his shirt in record time, all while kissing him with frantic urgency, deciding that his now wide, unbuttoned shirt was enough, my hands immediately rubbing at the lean muscles that jumped underneath his skin at my touch.
He pressed his hardness against my wetness, the friction sending a shock wave of through me, my moan cutting through the quiet of the motorhome.
“Christ, Cyn…“ He leaned in, his lips brushing mine as he angled himself at my entrance, enveloping me in his arms. “I need you so badly, always need you… what did I ever do before?...”
He pushed inside slowly at first, then with more urgency, allowing me to acclimate before as a soft groan escaped his lips, voicing his desperate desire.
I gasped as I felt him further fill me, my legs tightening around his waist, pulling him deeper, my hands coming up to grip at his tendrils while his breath scraped at my ear with every thrust.
“You feel so good, baby…” He whispered, his lips nibbling and licking at the sensitive skin below my ear. “So good…” He started to move faster, rocking into me harder with each second that passed, making my eyes roll back at the feel of him inside of me.
My body responded to him instantly, meeting his rhythm, my mind no longer in control, forgetting and dismissing how very wrong this is, getting it on in Richard and Marilyn’s brand new motorhome. But my body was thrumming with arousal and longing for Jimmy, all long limbs and perfect porcelain skin, and I couldn’t think beyond my need for him.
We kissed like we hadn’t been kissing all night, like we’d never kiss again. Nobody had ever kissed me like Jimmy kisses me. As I parted for air, Jimmy took the opportunity to kiss and lick at my neck, my collarbone, speaking endearments into my skin, telling me how much he loves me, how he’d been thinking about this since the car ride over.
“Oh, Jimmy!” I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders as he continued his relentless pounding into me, my body molding into his as I gripped his arms, his hair, the edge of the table, anything in reach. “More… please, Jimmy.” I whimpered uncontrollably.
“Oh, you want more, do you? You want it harder?” He groaned, pulling back, then plunging in again, his hips slamming against mine, making my center rub vigorously against him with each push and pull on his hips. “Like this? Is this what you want, Cyn?” I nodded frantically, so close to the edge, making Jimmy moan my name as he continued his dirty expressions. “You like this… ‘course you like this. You’re such a dirty girl, Cyn… so filthy…” The words that tumbled from his lips went straight to my head, dizzy with passion and filled with a craving only Jimmy could suffice.
“Fuck love… I’m close… so close…” Jimmy moaned in my ear, his lips kissing the shell of it as his body began to tremble in my arms.
My entire body narrowed to the sensations of Jimmy against me, the pounding, the friction, the exquisite pressure building deep inside of me. My breath came in and out in ragged gasps, my eyes squeezed shut as Jimmy kept talking, his dirty words a constant stream of arousal against my ear, further fueling the fire that was sparking within me.
I gasped when Jimmy suddenly gripped my thighs, lifting me, still inside of me, making my legs wrap tighter around his waist, my arms clutching at his neck.
He carried me across the short space to a plush, built-in couch next to the table, lowering me gently onto the cushions, his body following, never breaking contact.
Laying me down lovingly, catching my lips with his, his weight pressed me into the soft upholstery, as continued to drive into me, sending me straight off of the cliff, to a point beyond any return.
My climax hit me like a tidal wave as my body trembled and shook against Jimmy, my muscles clenching around his as a cry sounded from my throat, my body coming apart, waves of ecstasy washing over me.
I could hear Jimmy moaning, his breath warm and fast against my neck as I felt his body tense, calling my name as his hips thrusting one last, powerful time, before he came too, his own release mirroring mine; powerful, intense, perfect.
We lay there for a moment, tangled together on the small couch, our breaths coming fast and our hearts still hammering against one another’s chest.
As we slowly returned to a normal rhythm of heartbeats and breathing, a soft giggle escaped my lips as I finally opened my eyes, looking at him, his hair disheveled and crazy, his face flushed and sweaty, his body lax and still slightly heaving against me. A proud, sheepish grin spread across his face as I continued to softly giggle, covering my blushing face with my hands.
“Look at us…” I whispered, another laugh bubbling up. “What a mess.” I giggled, smoothing his hair back so I could see his eyes properly.
He kissed my forehead, then my nose, then my lips, soft and sweet this time as he tightened his grip around my body, still holding me close. “The most beautiful mess I’ve ever seen, love.” His fingers traced the curve of my jaw. “God, I love you, Cyn. I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” I murmured, snuggling closer, softly kissing the straining tendon on his neck, feeling utterly content. “This night… it’s just been perfect.” I mumbled nonsensically, though I meant it wholeheartedly, deciding that a night out with Jimmy for such a wonderful celebration alongside our dearest friends with no trouble felt so good, so special, rare. Jimmy hummed at this, nodding, his face burying itself in my neck, his mass of curls tickling my face as I whisked my hands through the tangled hair.
Just as I closed my eyes, savoring our moment just a little longer, a sudden, insistent knocking echoed through the motorhome. It started as a soft knock, then quickly escalated into a heavy, impatient pounding as a thundering voice, unmistakably Richard’s, roared through the door.
“Jimmy! Cynthia! Open this bloody door right now!” He screeched, banging his fist against the aluminum siding, then back to the door, vibrating the entire vehicle.
My eyes flew open with shock, looking to Jimmy who now hovered over me, his eyes equally wide, meeting mine as panic pierced through our lingering pleasure and quiet we’d been relishing just moments before.
“Shit.” Jimmy breathed, his voice a strained whisper as he rose off of me, a shaky hand running through his mess of curls.
“What do we do?” I whispered back, scrambling to sit up, my dress now a crumpled heap around my waist, my hair knotted, the barrettes and curls now fallen and mussed.
“Get dressed, love, quick!” Jimmy hissed, already fumbling for his trousers, tossing me my panties and heels as we moved with a frantic urgency. We pulled on our clothes, smoothed our hair as best we could. I looked into the small mirror above the sink, wiping away tell-tale smudges of my makeup. My dress was now wrinkled, my lipstick smeared, and my hair was in a sort of wild, curled, tangled mess that certainly didn’t look appropriate enough for a dive bar, let alone a wedding. We both looked exactly like what we’d just done.
I winced as Richard’s pounding intensified outside the motorhome. “I know you’re in there! Open up!” He continued to yell his demands as we finished cleaning up, taking one look back to make sure we hadn’t made much of a mess.
With a sigh, Jimmy finally unlocked the door, pulling it open to reveal a furious Richard, his face candy-apple-red with disbelief and rage.
“What in the bloody hell do you two think you’re doing in my brand new fucking motorhome?” Richard bellowed, his eyes scanning the slightly disheveled interior, then settling on our equally disheveled bodies, my face flushing beneath his gaze.
He is so going to kill us.
“Sorry, mate. All the washrooms were full. Had to find a proper one, us.” Jimmy managed a sheepish grin as he gestured vaguely towards the back of the RV. “Our apologies.” He took my hand in his firmly before trying to make his way around Richard.
“Bullshit, you cheeky fucker!” He stopped us from escaping before he stormed into the motorhome, gasping, his eyes narrowing as he took in the slightly rumpled cushions on the couch, to the slightly bent blinds on the door where Jimmy had me pinned between them and his body.
He turned back to us, his gaze drilling into our figures as he continued his scolding.
“You have got to be shitting me… were you two really having a fucking shag in here?” He asked, rather yelled, incredulously, looking back toward the interior.
I blushed scarlet, completely mortified, but Jimmy, with a slight chuckle and a lack of reasonable response, gripped my hand tighter and tugged me away from the scene, pulling us away from Richard’s seething anger.
Noticing we were making a break for it, Richard’s threw a torrent of obscenities that followed our jogging bodies across the grassy lot.
“Jimmy, Cynthia! You bloody scoundrels! Where the hell do you think you’re going?! Get back here!” Richard shouted from where he stood by the motorhome, but we were already nearing the building, a bit too far for Richard to catch up to us.
Just then, Marilyn bursted out of the venue’s back doors, her expression a mix of confusion and concern as she looked at Richard behind us, red-faced and bellowing, then us, hurrying away, trying to stifle our laughter.
“In quite a state he is.” Jimmy said, stopping for a moment to catch our breath, pointing his thumb back at Richard’s horrifying belligerence, which continued to echo through the night. “Best to check on him.”
As Marilyn hurried to go and attempt to calm Richard down, Jimmy and I burst into full-blown laughter, our giggles filling the cold night air as we ran around the building towards the parking lot.
Ron was already waiting by the car, a knowing grin on his face as he seemingly heard and witnessed what had just played out.
We figured we’d just pull off an Irish goodbye tonight, settling into the car drunkenly, but not without me elbowing Jimmy for the trouble he’d just gotten us in. He was still laughing as I began to scold him, my finger playfully tapping at his chest.
“You have to call him tomorrow! I mean it!” I insisted, my voice still shaky with laughter. “You absolutely have to apologize.” Listening to Jimmy’s chuckles was not helping the situation as I, too, continued to uncontrollably laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, in disbelief that it really just happened.
“We desecrated the bloody motorhome, Cyn!” Jimmy wailed, clutching his stomach, doubling over in laughter as Ron pulled away from the Manor House. “Oh, how will he ever forgive us? It was a gift from Peter, for Christ sakes!” He cried, tears of laughter streaming down his face as he looked back at Richard still outside, waving his arms around angrily, gesturing toward the motorhome while Marilyn stood trying to console him.
Even Ron let out a hearty laugh of his own as he rounded the parking lot and out of the exit, just as we saw Richard, still in his tux, chasing after us, shaking his fist in the distance as Marilyn chased after him. The night, despite its scandalous ending, had been truly unforgettable. And I made a mental note to make sure that Jimmy called Richard tomorrow to properly and thoroughly apologize.
-
A/N
WE’RE BACK BABY! Oh my God, you guys have NO IDEA how wonderful it feels to be back with an update for you lovely people. I’ve missed you all and this story SO MUCH.
I will be updating again, frequently, regularly, now, and I am so excited to share more with you all.
And I really, really, REALLY hope this first update in so long is worth the wait! Dont hold back your comments and messages, I’ve missed talking with you all SO MUCH. Can’t wait to post the next chapter very soon… it’ll be Jimmy and Cyn’s first Christmas together EEEEEKKK!!!!! Stay tuned! Take care xxxxxxx
P.S. I’m utterly obsessed with Jimmy in these pictures. The suit the hair & THAT FACEEE.
Link to Chapter 35 (Part One): https://www.tumblr.com/classicrocknlove/815725478116769792/spread-your-wings
to first answer your question: no, no, no… it has not killed me forever, I promise! it has slowed and stressed me significantly (long story) but trust I have been working on updating any chance I get. as for Spread Your Wings, I now have a couple chapters in the works (just editing them now as we speak) and will have at least one posted by the end of the week.
more good news: the semester is now finishing up and I WILL BE FREE TO WRITE AS MUCH AS I WANT… EEEEEK!! trust I will be back updating frequently here very soon (especially for something else I have planned… ;)) thank you for checking in and I’m so sorry I’ve been such a disappointment recently. BUT, all will be revealed very soon…
also, on the topic of this blog, I received a notification from tumblr today that reminded me that ONE YEAR AGO TODAY, I started this blog and posted the first chapter of Spread Your Wings. it’s been so incredible writing this story and becoming so close with you guys because of it. I cannot wait to jump right back into the grind of updating and talking with all of you (you guys and your support make me the happiest gal)!!!
