This is fan fiction.  Though the characters involve real people, this does not recount real events.  The rating on this story is NC-17.   If you are not 18 years of age, please do not read!




H A R D E R  T O  B E  A  G E N T L E M A N

p a r t s   t e n  -  t w e n t y - o n e  [e n d]


© Radiantbaby, 2003



*    *    *





We lay in each other’s arms, our bodies entwined.


“I think we might have to *order in* for lunch,” Jack sighed. “I’ve planned a nice dinner though.”


“Oh God, have you planned a whole itinerary for me?” I teased.


“Well, our manager Ian had a lot to do with it, but yes.  Today is relatively free except for a phone interview I have in about three hours.  Tomorrow, I have a few interviews and then the show at the Greek Theatre.  After that, with the exception of a photo session I have on Sunday morning, I am all yours until you leave Sunday night.”


“Busy, busy,” I said, tracing circles on his chest with my fingertip.


“Yes,” he turned to look at me, “I wish that I could just spend the entire weekend with only you…but, as they say, duty calls!”


There was so much I wanted to talk with him about, especially since we’d had our intimate encounter.  We laid there in silence for a few moments before I was able to take in a deep breath and ask, “Jack, why am I here?”


“Well, that is an esoteric question then,” he giggled.


“No, really, Jack, you know what I mean,” I countered, my tone becoming a bit more serious.


He took in a deep breath himself.  “I wish I could completely answer that for you, Mickey, but really I am not completely sure myself.”


There was silence for a moment between us.  “What about…Marcie?” I asked a bit timidly.


He shifted to turn to me, stroking the side of my face as he looked into my eyes.  He seemed to be searching for something, but I wasn’t sure what. 


“You…know about Marcie?”


“I’ve heard about her…yes.”


“Well,” he pushed an errant of hair behind my ear, stroking it, “Marcie is…not in the picture anymore…”


“What do you mean?”


Jack sighed deeply, and shifted to lie back against the pillow.  He closed his eyes.  “The day after I last saw you, her and I got together and talked, I mean, really *talked.*  It was something that we hadn’t really done in a long time.  We had both become pretty complacent with things between us, most of the passion we’d ever had had slipped away.  She had come along at a pretty desperate moment for me.  I had just separated from Meg and she had just broken up with a boyfriend as well.  I am not sure if what we had was more love or just us both reaching out for some mutual companionship.   We stayed together for a long time, though, even though we never were very serious with each other and often, admittedly, slept around on one another.  We decided to face up to things and separate.  It was time for the two of us to move on.”


“Oh,” I said, a bit unsure of how what he was saying was relevant to me being there.


“Mickey, when I met you, it was like waking up from a long sleep that I wasn’t even aware of.  You sparked something in me, something that made me want to live again, to breathe again…to love again.  I know that we hardly know each other, but somehow I feel as if I have known you for years.  I don’t know what that means, but I want to find out.  I want to get to know you better and see where things lead.”


I could feel my eyes widen, surprised by his words, but still not trusting him.  “But what about our conversation in the car that night?  You left pretty abruptly and I thought you’d never call.  It,” I paused unsure of if I wanted to admit my feelings, but then continued, “really hurt me, actually.”


He opened his eyes and turned to me again, curling his finger beneath my chin. 


“Mickey, I never, *ever* wanted to hurt you,” he replied, his tone now staccato with emphasis, “You don’t know how many times I have played that night over and over in my head and wanted to do and say things differently.  I couldn’t stop thinking about you and I think that frightened me.  I don’t want to get hurt just like anyone else.  I didn’t know how you felt about me, I mean, for all I knew the reason you had kissed me was only because you were drinking.  I am really sorry.  I suppose that is why you are here, then.  I wanted another chance -- a chance to start things over and do them *right* this time.  Mickey,” he paused, “would you give me that chance?”



*    *    *




“Jack, I…”


Don’t answer now, just give me this weekend and then you decide.  If you say yes, it may not be completely easy, but I am willing to try and make this work.”


I moved to kiss him.  It was the best answer I could give considering the circumstances. 


We kissed for a long time, just lazily caressing each others bodies, letting our hands experience what we’d rushed through before.


“Are you hungry?” he asked quietly, stroking my belly as it rumbled.


“Yes, I suppose I am.”


“Let’s eat then.” 


We ordered in, lounging in the hotel’s terry cloth robes as we ate.  The meal was actually rather good, it was a bit of neo-Japanese fare that bellied the expense of the hotel.  After eating, we took a long bath relaxing until it was time for Jack’s phone interview.


While I waited for him to complete his call, I hooked up my laptop to check my emails for any emergencies back at the office.  My email notifier came on immediately.  It was an email from Zoe that simply had “You’re in trouble now!” as its subject.  I was intrigued.




Go here. You won’t believe it.




She was referring to a link, so I clicked on it to see what all of the fuss was about.  It wasn’t hard to figure out what it was once I’d gotten there though.  It was a long string on a White Stripes message board and the subject was them trying to determine who I was.


The original message seemed to be from the fans that we met earlier in the lobby. They even posted a picture of me standing to the side while Jack had signed his autographs.  The replies all seemed to range from curiousity to indifference to down right jealousy.  I knew, as Zoe said, I certainly was going to be in trouble.


“What’s wrong?” Jack said, ambling up behind me and kissing me on the top of my head.  His interview must have been over.


I didn’t know how to reply, still a bit shocked by what was before me.  In my silence, he seemed to instinctively look over my shoulder and to the picture of me on the screen.


“Oh,” he said, quietly. “I guess I should have seen *that* coming.”


He leaned forward and laid his forehead against the back of my own head.  “Fuck me.  Are you going to be alright with this?” he asked with a deep sigh.


“I…I…” I found myself stammering, a million thoughts rushing through my head.  “I don’t know.  I can definitely say this is a bit of new experience.”


He moved to perch himself on the dresser beside me. “You dated Alex Shriek though, right?” he asked quietly.


I was surprised that he knew about my relationship with Alex.


“Um, yeah, but I guess that isn’t really that similar though.  Alex had some minor fame here in the U.S., but you, you are an *international* celebrity.”


“Look, I can’t help that the fucking press is all over us these days like shit to flies.  Its driving me crazy, too, you know?” he snapped.


Woah, woah there,” I countered, softening the tone of our conversation with a reassuring caress of his knee, “No need to be like that.  I just said it was different is all.  I didn’t say it was bad.”


He closed his eyes tightly for a moment and then opened them again, sighing.  “I’m sorry Mickey, I’m just a bit sensitive to that right now.  I have been under so much stress with all of this recent press attention. It is driving me absolutely insane.  I just want to play to my fans and record great music, I never asked for all of this,” he replied, waving his hand in reference to our posh surroundings.


I reached to hold his hand, covering it with my other hand.  “I can’t tell the future, Jack, but I can say this, I’m here to support you through all of this.  Sure, things are going to take some adjustment, for both of us, but I think we can make it through this, alright?”


“Yeah,” he smiled widely, all of his features suddenly lighting up. “Yeah.”



*   *   *




Alex Shriek.  I had barely thought of him until Jack brought him up.  We had been involved in a torrid affair about two years prior.  It was a true mess.


Jack actually reminded me a bit of him in a way though, cocksure and idealistic.  Alex was much too egotistical though.  He was also a bit too immature. He really put me through the ringer, that one.  I vowed after our relationship’s demise that I would never *ever * date a musician again.


And look at me now.


Here I am on the brink of potentially “dating” (or whatever we are going to be) Jack White and I don’t know if I want to leap for joy or spill my lunch. 


And what about the logistics of all of this?  I mean, really.  Jack and I don’t even live in the same city, make that not even the same state.  That is not even taking into account our lifestyles, which sets us at worlds away.


What was I getting into?  What sort of fall was I setting myself up for?  My heart was being pulled this way and that.  Part of me wanted to run out of that hotel room just as quickly as my legs would take me and catch the first flight back home.  The other part wanted to take Jack at his word, revel in his adulation and sincerity at least for a bit longer, and give the poor boy a chance. I could only imagine what he was thinking about all of this himself and what had even went through his head to push him to the point of flying me to Los Angeles for this proposal.


“So…how did you know about Alex?” I asked him after we moved to sit on the couch.


He gave me a look that reminded me a bit of the proverbial kid getting his hand caught in the cookie jar. 


“I…well, I asked around about you,” he replied shyly.


“You did?” I asked, surprised.  “What, pray tell, did you find out?” I had to laugh.  I could only imagine the stories.


He cleared his throat nervously, a mischievous grin crossing his lips. “Well, at first I talked with Sam.  I saw you talking with him at the aftershow before you spoke to me. I figured he’d have some sort of scoop.”


“You saw me talking with Sam?”


“I…well,” he blushed a bit, “I had sort of watched you all night – well, at least from the time I’d seen you in the audience…”


“Really?”  Now I was blushing. “Oh.”


“Anyway, Sam told me a few things, like that you were single,” he winked at me.


“Great,” I groaned jokingly.


“Then Sam told me talk with Erik Sparco.  I only really got Sparco’s card at the aftershow, but I wound up calling him after I left you and made a jerk of myself.”


“Erik Sparco?  I sure hope he didn’t say anything too frightening.” 


Sparco was an A/R rep for EMI.  He worked with Alex back when we dated. He wasn’t a bad guy, just a bit creepy.


“No, he just told me a bit about you and brought up Alex Shriek.  I actually didn’t even realize the two of you dated, I had his record and even met him once.  He was…” Jack paused, seemingly trying to be tactful.


“An asshole?” I completed his sentence.


Jack shrugged sheepishly, “Yeah, I mean, that was just my opinion.”


“You are not the only one who feels that way, trust me,” I assured him.


“Anyway, no he didn’t tell me anything bad.  In fact once he told me about Alex, I knew I could ask my friend David who knew Alex back then about you as well.”




“David Rothchild.”


“Oh, I remember David, he played drums for Irritant.  They opened for a lot of Alex’s gigs.”


“Yes, well, David had nothing but lovely things to say about you.”


“Good. So,” I asked, feeling a bit awkward, “you did your homework on me then?”


“I,” he paused nervously, cupping his hands on his knees, “I just wanted to make sure I was making the right decision.  I didn’t want to set myself up to be hurt.  I’ve done that way too many times and really, you would have been justified with my behavior if you had.  I just wanted to make sure my instincts weren’t leading me astray.”





“I don’t like my face,” Jack pouted as he buttoned up a grey and black striped shirt and then finger-combed his hair into his face in front of the bathroom mirror.


I wrapped my arms around him from behind.  “Oh Jack, you are beautiful,” I countered, pressing my check against his shoulder blade.


I was surprised more and more that the bravado he showed on stage was actually contrary to his off-stage personality.  He was a lot more insecure than I would have imagined.  Still, oddly, that made him that much more attractive to me.  He was real.


He turned around to me, placing his hands on my waist, and smiled down at me.  I reached up to push some of the hair from his eyes.  “You shouldn’t hide yourself, especially your eyes,” I whispered.


He blushed slightly, looking down for a moment and then he looked back at me.  “Mickey, you make me feel beautiful.”


“As you do for me,” I replied.


“You certainly don’t need my help with that,” he said, stepping back and holding out my arms to look at me.  I’d put on a simple black strappy number (that I’d packed in case we went anywhere somewhat nice), with some simple black platform sandals, and left my long black locks down - save a small barrette pulling my bangs to the side.  “You really should wear your hair down more.”


I blushed myself, just as awkward as he was about compliments.  I changed the subject.  “So, where are you taking me to dinner tonight sir?”

He laughed, looking down for a moment as if he was almost embarrassed, “Would you believe the restaurant over at the House of Blues?”


“Why does that not surprise me?” I teased.


“Well, I have always wanted to go there and it’s just walking distance away from here.  How could I resist – Cajun and Soul Food and the Blues?”


“I’m just teasing with you, silly, I can’t wait to go.”


About a half an hour later, we got ready to leave.  “So, you really aren’t wearing any red,” I poked at him.  He was simply wearing the aforementioned grey and black striped shirt, some black trousers, and the black creepers he was wearing earlier.


“Tonight, I am not The Jack White.  I am just Jack, your Jack,” he said, kissing me on the cheek as he opened the hotel room door for me to exit.



 *   *   *




We had a great time at dinner that night, Jack excitedly pointing at the blues memorabilia on the walls as we ate and chatting about the various blues music playing on the sound system.  We considered stepping next door to the music hall to see who was playing, but it was Joan Armatrading and she was sold out.


“Look, they have what’s called a ‘Gospel Brunch’ here on Sunday morning. Isn’t that cool?” I said, pointing to a flyer ad for it on the table.


Jack looked at the ad and smiled at me, “Hmm, 10:00 and 1:00?  I think we could probably pull off the 1:00 show.  The photo session is pretty early and I don’t expect it to take that long.  Would you want to go?”


“Oh God, Jack, the tickets are like $30 a piece.  I don’t know,” I replied hesitantly.


He pouted a bit, sliding his hand across the table to take mine.  “This is our weekend, Mickey. Money is no object.  I just want us to have a good time.  I mean, come on, look at that menu,” he laughed, tilting his head towards the Gospel Brunch menu of southern-fried classics, “How can we resist?”


I shook my head at him.  There was no saying no to him when he had that glimmer in his eye.  “Alright.”


Soon after dinner, we made our way back to the hotel, arm and arm and laughing.  I think it was then that it struck me how long it had been since I’d really laughed as I had with him that day.  It was as if almost every moment with him, I was feeling such amazing joy.  It made me think that perhaps he was making me feel alive again as well.  That his very presence was blowing away the cobwebs from my feelings and knocking down the walls I’d tried so desperately for years to put up.


“What?” he smiled at me, as we sat upstairs in the hotel’s SKYBAR.  I had my head against the back of the lounge chair we shared, simply looking out over the Los Angeles skyline, and contemplating my revelation.


I sighed, looking at him, and snuggled closer against his arm.  “I’m just really happy.”


“Me too, Mickey,” he laid his cheek against the top of my head after kissing it, “me too.”


“Jack, do you ever wish that you did things differently in your life?” I whispered.  Perhaps the bit of beer I’d had at dinner was making me pensive.


“What do you mean?”


“Like, do you ever wish that you took a different path?  That maybe you didn’t make the mistakes that you did?”


He leaned back against the chair, pulling me back against him and shifting his arm so that it was now around me.  “Sometimes I guess, but I wouldn’t be who I am today if I hadn’t been through what I’ve been through.  If I’d taken another path,” the tone of his voice was now low and sweetened like honey, “I’d never have met you.”


I nuzzled against his shoulder, trying to hide my blush from his statement.  “Yes, but I get scared.  I get scared that all the bad stuff that has scarred me, that makes me hold back from people, hold back from you, is not so good after all.”


“Oh Mickey,” he said, wrapping his other arm around me as well now, embracing me, “It takes us going through the bad, to truly see and appreciate the good that we have.”


I lost track of how long we sat on the lounge chair after that, simply sitting quietly, as if the only thing we were listening to was the soft rise and fall of each other’s breathing.  It was nice, we didn’t have to utter a single word, but it was like we were speaking volumes.


“Mickey,” I heard him whispering, stroking my face.  My eyes fluttered open.  I must have fallen asleep.  “They are kicking us out, we should go down to the room.”


I looked at my watch. It was 3:00 AM.  I must have slept a few hours.  “Oh my God, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I practically leapt up, embarrassed. 


Jack stood up next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as we made out way out of the bar.  “You must have really needed it.  Besides, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”


“Did you…sleep?” I asked, awkwardly, still bordering on mortified.


“No, I was awake,” he smiled, stroking my back as we waited for the elevator.


“What did…you do?”


He shuffled his feet a bit and then looked at me.  “I watched you for a long time…and I thought about a lot of things.  Then I talked to a few people.”


“Talked to a few people?” I asked, my face now, I was sure, terribly red.  The chime of the elevator saved us and we boarded to make our way downstairs to the room.


“Yes, a few people came by, complimented the album, wished me success, you know, the ‘Hollywood’ sort of thing.”


I covered my face in my hands, “With me asleep next to you?” I squeaked out.


“Yes,” he giggled.  “You slept right through it all.  You’re quite a dead sleeper.  I made them all whisper though.”


“Oh God, I can only imagine what they thought of me,” I said, still speaking behind my hands.


Jack reached up and pulled my hands from my face, and stood before me.  “They all said, ‘what a lovely woman.”


“And you said?” I whispered. I felt almost paralyzed as he stared deeply into my eyes.


“Yes, the most beautiful woman in the world.”



*   *   *




We held hands as we left the elevator and made our way back to his suite.  My heart was racing from his affections, making my step a little lighter.  I felt like a teenager in love, all these crushy feelings for him filling my being.


“After you,” he waved me inside his room, opening the door for me.


Once he closed the door, I turned around and pressed him against it, kissing him almost ferociously.  I don’t know what came over me, but suddenly I just needed to kiss him.


He moaned in response, wrapping his arms around me to pull me against him.  We kissed for a few more moments, the passion of our embrace rising quickly, and then parted breathless.


“I’m sorry,” I practically panted, “I just needed to do that.”


His eyes were glimmering with a dark desire as he looked back at me and he laughed almost nervously.  “If you ever need that again, please don’t hesitate. I’m sure that I can accommodate you.”


“I think the alcohol is just getting to me again,” I said, now a little embarrassed about the fresh move I’d just made.


“Well, perhaps I should lie you down then,” he whispered, his eyebrow now raised mischievously.


“Yes, perhaps you should,” I growled playfully, caressing his chest through the material of his shirt.


He reached under me and lifted me up.  “Oh Mickey, you are certainly going to be the death of me.”


“As long as it’s a happy death,” I teased.


“Oh, I am sure it would be,” he laughed, laying me down on the mattress.


He leaned down to kiss me on the cheek. “Hang on, let me change into something more comfortable,” he whispered and went into the bathroom.


“Okay,” I said, closing my eyes.  I couldn’t help it, but I fell asleep again.


When I awoke, it was dark in the room.  I focused on the clock on the television to read the tiny digital numbers.  It was 4:48. 


In the faint light of the room, I could see Jack asleep next to me, his arm loosely draped over my belly and his head nuzzled against my shoulder.  The way the moonlight reflected against the bare skin of his torso entranced me and I lay there simply watching him sleep peacefully beside me.


It was nice; I could actually look at him without being self-conscious about it.  I could study him.  His black hair was partially covering his face and partially sprawled across his pillow.  His face looked so peaceful and even, to my amusement, he had a sweet smile across his lips.  He wasn’t wearing a shirt, but I could see the waistband of shorts peeking out slightly from the blanket resting at his hips.


I was getting a bit afraid of the quick affection that I was feeling for this man.  Even worse, it didn’t take me long to remember falling asleep while waiting for him earlier, falling asleep after arousing him.  I felt like an awful tease.  I worried that perhaps he’d gone to sleep angry or disappointed in me.  I know if it would have happened with Alex, he would have shaken me awake and made me have sex with him.


I sighed deeply, slowly sliding off the bed as to try and not wake Jack.  I smirked as I realized I was wearing one of his shirts and that my dress was carefully folded up on the dresser. I quietly made my way into the main room, taking a cigarette of Jack’s, and made my way out onto the balcony.  I hardly ever smoked these days, but my nerves were beginning to get so frayed that I needed something to calm me.


I sat in a chair outside, looking out over the city, sucking on his cigarette.  I was finding myself getting more and more terrified, trying to think of the possibilities of how Jack might think of me now. Had I ruined things?


“Mickey?” I heard Jack’s voice, gravely with sleep, interrupt my thoughts.


I looked to see him standing in the doorway of the balcony, a concerned look on his face.


“Um…Jack,” I replied nervously, looking down at the cigarette and back at him.  Oddly, I felt like a kid getting caught smoking by their parents. I don’t know why it even matter to me.


He rubbed his eyes for a moment. “I woke up and I couldn’t find you.  I was worried.”  His tone was almost like a child’s, sweet and innocent. I half expected him to be holding a teddy-bear.


“I’m sorry,” I whispered, flicking the cigarette over the balcony.


For a moment, he watched the ashen light travel through the night air and then he looked back at me.  “Is everything alright?” he asked, a hint of reticence to his tone.


I pulled my knees to my chest on the chair. “Yes, I’m fine,” I replied curtly, speaking more to the balcony wall than to him, “You can go back to bed.”


He just stood there quietly.  I couldn’t bring myself to directly look at him, but I could see him in my peripheral vision just watching me.


“Are you..” he paused for a moment, “Are you angry with me?”


My own insecurity hit me suddenly and, in my own exhaustion, I was helpless to fight it.  I pressed my face to my knees and began to cry.


“Oh Mickey, Mickey,” he whispered, rushing to me, his hand stroking my hair.  “Tell me what I did.”


“You didn’t do anything, Jack,” I sniffled. “It was me. I don’t want you to be mad at me.”


“Mickey,” he said almost sternly, lifting me chin to look at him.  His eyes softened as he looked at my own tear-filled ones, “Why would I ever be angry with you?”


I bit my lip. “Earlier…” I stammered.


He looked at me confused. “Earlier?”


“When I…fell asleep.”


“At the bar?” he asked, now stroking the side of my face, wiping the tears from my cheeks.




He looked at me for a second intently and then his eyes widened in recognition. “I’m not mad at you about that.  Are you kidding me?” he laughed, poking me.


I frowned and he looked me seriously at me.  “Mickey, you didn’t do anything wrong.  You were tired, I let you sleep.  You’re probably completely jet-lagged, trust me, I know what that is like.”


I smiled a bit and he said, “There, let me see that pretty little smile again. Why on earth would you make you think I’d be mad at you for that?”


I looked down, ashamed of my overreaction to things. “Alex.”


“Oh baby,” he knelt before me, reaching to hold one of my hands. Had he just called me “baby”?


“I’m Jack, look at me, I am Jack.  I am not Alex and I will never be that piece of….” He stopped himself biting his lip a bit, seeming to steel himself from flinging any insults.  “Mickey, I know you have been hurt and I know that you are forever going to rate your men up against that measuring stick of pain.  I understand it, I do it myself.  Do you think love has been all lollipops for me?  All I can ask is that you have faith in me, have faith in this.  I do not know where this is going myself, but I am willing to just close my eyes and let me go where the wind takes us.”


“I’m sorry Jack, I don’t know why I am getting so emotional about things,” I said, loosening up by putting my legs back down.


“I guess I should be flattered,” he replied, wrapping his arms around my waist and nuzzling against my belly.  “If you were feeling nothing, I suppose then I would really have to be scared.”


“I guess I am just tired and a bit overwhelmed.  Is it just me?”


“Oh no, no, trust me.  Every single moment I keep expecting you to change your mind and leave,” he said, his voice vibrating against my belly, “You don’t know how afraid I was when I woke up and I couldn’t find you.”


“You don’t have to worry about that,” I reassured him, stroking his black locks.


“Let’s go back to bed,” he offered, leaning back to look up at me.


“Yes, let’s,” I agreed.


“I can’t believe you were smoking,” Jack said as we walked back to the bedroom. “That supposed to take place after I do this.”  He walked up behind me, pressing his lips to my neck.





I stopped, letting him ease up behind me, caressing my arms.  “You are so terrible,” I whispered.


“Am I?” he stepped around to stand before me.


“We are never going to leave this room if you keep that up,” I scolded, blushing a bit at the unintended pun.


“That might not be so bad,” he took my hands, walking me backwards towards the bed.


Once at its edge, he pressed on my shoulders for me to sit down.  “Don’t you have a lot to do tomorrow?  Shouldn’t you go to sleep?” I asked him, suddenly strangely nervous.


I don’t know why I was getting so nervous.  I suppose it was because when we were first intimate, everything happened so quickly I didn’t have time to think.  Now, things were moving much more slowly, and many more secrets had been shared between us.


“Are you nervous?” he asked concerned, caressing my back as he sat beside me. “You are shaking.”


“Yeah, I don’t know why,” I replied, looking down, a bit ashamed.


He lifted my chin with his finger. “Let me calm your nerves.” 


He leaned over to kiss me, caressing the nape of my neck.  I softened to his touch, the feelings in my body quickly changing from reticence to desire.


He had that effect on me unlike no one else, pulling desire from deep within my being so that my passion was almost explosive when I was with him.  I tentatively reached over and touched his knee, lightly caressing and kneading the flesh as my fingers worked their way up his thigh.


He moaned as we still kissed, the muscles in his thigh tensing slightly beneath my touch. “Oh God,” he whispered, his lips now moving towards my neck. “Touch me.”


It would have been easy to honor his request just that simply, but I wanted to tease him a bit, tease him as he’d teased me the first time we were together. 


I slid to my knees on the floor before him, pushing his own knees apart to settle between then.  He looked down at me, his hair hanging down almost covering his face.  “I might,” I teased, planting a light kiss on the top of his knee.


He tossed his hair from his eyes.  “You’re a little devil.”


“You’ve not seen anything yet,” I replied, coyly, beginning to stroke his thigh with the tip of my tongue.


He breathed in quickly through his teeth, clutching on to the mattress underneath him.  I began teasing him with careful, flicks of my tongue all around his knee, behind his knee, and up his inner thigh.


I also let my hands begin caressing him as well, beginning from his feet and ankles and letting them slowly make their way up to meet my tongue.  “Oh Mickey, you are driving me crazy,” he groaned, his toes curling against the carpet.


“We can’t have that now, can we?” I replied, moving to slip my hands up the lengths of his thighs and up to his hips underneath the legs of his shorts.


He closed his eyes and laid his head back against his shoulders, my hands lightly caressing his hips and the tops of his legs, slowly making their way to meet together in the middle.  He was pressed hard against the material of his shorts, straining against my touch.  I slid my hands out from beneath his shorts and slid them up to run my finger along the waistband.  He bucked his hips lightly against me, as if his body was trying to get my touch to go back to where to it had been.  I pulled on the waistband and he lifted his hips so that I could slide off his shorts.


His erection stood before me, more enticing than I would have imagined.  I curled my finger beneath the sac of his balls, and leaned down to flick my tongue against its tip.  Oooh,” he sighed, his hips rising slightly again, pushing himself against my lips.


I teased him a bit more, flicking my tongue up and down the length of him until I finally settled at the top, taking him into my mouth.  I suckled him softly, but quickly began to pleasure him ferociously.  I couldn’t help myself, as I intensified his moans and groans intensified as well and I just wanted to pleasure him more and more.  One of his hands came up to stroke my hair and for a moment I worried he might push me down on himself as too many men do, but instead, he just lightly caressed it.


“Oh Mickey, oh my god,” he groaned, his hand sliding down to rest on my shoulder.  Soon, his hand was griping my shoulder tightly.  “Mickey, I am going to…I am going to come.”


I was impressed he’d warned me, but I felt this need to taste him.  Instead of pulling away, I intensified my ministrations.  He raised his hips more off the bed, his breathe staggered and deep, and then he had his orgasm, falling back onto the bed.






I wiped my mouth, looking up at the panting man before me.  “Come here,” he said, lifting me to sit on his lap.


He looked me in the eyes and then kissed me.  “Thank you,” he stopped for a moment and whispered, “But I’m supposed to be pleasing you.”


“You have, you are,” I replied, resuming our kiss.


He then leaned back against the bed and pulled me to lie beside him.  We moved up towards the pillows and he crawled on top of me, pulling the blanket over us.


He was hard again already and pressed himself inside me as he covered us. I sighed with his penetration, wrapping my legs around his back as he rested his weight against me.


“You feel so wonderful” he murmured, his eyes locked on mine with every movement, every thrust that he made.


His movements were slow and sensual, still counter to my own ravenous, primal ones.  I suppose we complimented each other in that way. 


Mmm, I love being with you,” I replied, grasping the sinuous muscles in his back.


“Me too,” he purred, reaching down to stroke my aching clitoris as he moved in and out of me.


It didn’t take long for him to pull a climax from me, in fact he easily pulled several, each time moaning along with me and smiling down at his work.


“I love to see you come,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss my neck as his penetration became quicker and deeper.


I grabbed tightly onto his back, the two of us groaning in unison until his own body stiffened and he whimpered my name with his own climax.



*   *   *


The wake up call came far too early the next day.  I think I nearly jumped from it startling me, but Jack seemed to simply wake up unaffected when he leaned over to pick up the receiver.


“Hello…thanks,” he said softly, hanging up the phone, and then shifted to snuggle back up to me.


“I don’t want to get up,” Jack whined, our legs entwined, embracing me.


“Me neither, let’s just stay right here,” I said, tightening my arm around him.


He sighed deeply, “I wish I had that option.”  He began to stroke my hair.


“Yeah,” I replied, resigned.


“Thank you for a wonderful night last night,” he said, shifting so that he was looking at me.


“The restaurant?” I teased.


He smiled.  “Yes, and, of course, everything else.”


“My crying?”


“Well, that wasn’t entirely nice, but I was very happy that you were able to let me in a little bit,” he replied, pressing his hand to my heart.


“You are too good to be true, Jack White.”


“No, trust me, I’m not. I just try really hard.”



*   *   *


Jack spent the day doing various press and preparing for the show.  I stayed back at the hotel for the most part, doing a little work here and there on my laptop, and mostly just hung about.  Jack kept calling to make sure that I was alright and if I needed or wanted anything.  Of course the only thing that I wanted or needed was to be with him, but I knew that he had his obligations to attend to.


He sent one of his crew to pick me up late that afternoon.  The man was the consummate gentleman, handing me a rose and ushering me downstairs to the waiting car.  He was dapper, dressed in a black suit and shirt, red tie, and black derby hat.  He was terribly well mannered, but also terribly quiet.


I myself had trouble figuring out what to wear before he’d arrived.  Part of me wanted to join in Jack’s red and white world, but I didn’t want to look silly.  I settled on a pair of black patent leather pants, black boots, and a black and red New York Dolls baby-doll tee – close enough for any dress-code specs I might be up against, I supposed.  I did fight the urge to put my hair up though, leaving it down like Jack liked.  The glimmer in the crewman’s eye seemed to say that it looked like I made right choice.


Pulling up to the venue, I began to feel a bit awkward.  I could see groups of fans gathered here and there, anxious for the show and to perhaps meet Jack and Meg.  It was a new world for me.  Alex had his own fan base of course, mostly consisting of lascivious groupies unfortunately, but it was nothing on the scale of what Jack and Meg had.  I could see many of them excitedly watching our car pass as we entered through the back gates, seemingly eager to see through the tinted windows who the passenger was.  I am sure it would have been a let down had they seen it was just simply me.


Once parked, his crewman (who still had not given me his name), came around and opened the door for me.  We were parked in the backstage lot, surrounded by other crewman rushing about to get everything set up for the show.  A few of them nodded to me, many of whom were dressed in the exact same dapper garb as the man leading me, but most seemed caught up in their own work.  I was led through the people and over to where there were a few trailers set up.  They had been in buses when I saw them the last time, but I suppose with the long layover in LA, they hadn’t hired any buses that weekend.


We walked up to the furthest trailer and the crewman knocked on the door.  There was a long pause, making me even more edgy, and then the door finally popped open.  It was Meg.


“Mickey, hi,” she said shyly to me and then nodded at the crewman, “Hello Patrick.”


Patrick nodded hello to her and then made his way back into the fray of people backstage.  “Come on in,” Meg smiled, stepping back to let me into the trailer.  “Jack should be back in a minute, he said he needed to talk to someone real quick.  Sit down.”


We sat down around a small table, a stack of magazines and boxes of cigarettes covering it.  There was a TV mounted on the wall showing “Bride of Frankenstein” and a man laid out on a couch towards the back sleeping.


“That’s Ben” Meg said quietly, noticing me looking back at the man, “He passed out.”


“Oh,” I said nervously.  It had suddenly struck me that I hadn’t had a conversation with Meg through the entire ordeal that I’d had with Jack.  Sure, I’d seen her at that after-party, but she had been mostly quiet and aloof, talking to only a few people.


Meg seemed to be a little nervous too, picking up a drumstick and lightly tapping the table with it.  “I like your shirt,” she said, smiling at me, but barely making eye contact.


“Thank you,” I replied.  “How is your arm?” I added, referring to her somewhat recent injury.


“Good, it gets sore sometimes still, but good.” 


She looked at me.  I could sense that she was sizing me up in some way.  Perhaps I was a bit too.  Despite what they told the press, I knew the truth about their past romantic relationship.  I wondered if that would affect my relationship with her.  I was interested in getting to know her.


“What?” I said nervously.


“Nothing, I…” she smiled, tilting her head a bit as she looked at me. “I am just happy to finally meet you.  I wanted to see who was making Jack so happy.”





The squeak of the door opening to the trailer interrupted our conversation.


“Meg, do you know what I did with my red jersey?” Jack bounded in, looking a bit exasperated, his features lighting up once he saw me. “Mickey!”


He was wearing some black pants and a simple black t-shirt.  I smiled and waved at him.


“Jack, I think it was with the cleaning they did the other day.  Did you look in that stuff?” Meg replied, giggling a bit at him.


“Oh,” he smiled boyishly at the two of us, smacking his forehead, “I forgot to look there.”


“That’s why you need me around,” Meg teased him, her shyness melting away a bit in Jack’s presence.


“Mickey, do you mind coming with me to find my shirt?” he offered.  “I need to get ready for the show.”


“Um…sure,” I said, looking at Meg and then back at Jack.  I was enjoying my conversation with Meg, but I supposed it could reconvene later.


She gave me an approving look, seeming to sense my hesitation, so I got up and followed Jack out of the trailer.


His eyes practically glimmered as he helped me down the steps.  “Look at you. You look amazing. I’m going to completely pale in comparison to you tonight,” he said, looking me over admiringly.


“I doubt it,” I teased, slipping my hand around his arm.


He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek and then led me through the people to one of the other trailers.  We went inside and I watched him pick through various red, black, and white clothes.


“Here it is,” he said excitedly, pulling out a red soccer jersey with a white collar. “Do you mind if I get changed?”


I smirked at him, “Of course not.” 


We were alone in the trailer.  “Let me do this first,” he hung the shirt up on a hook and pulled me to him in a passionate kiss.  I wrapped my arms around him, stroking the nape of his neck with my fingertips.


“God, I missed you today,” he murmured against my lips as we broke from the kiss.


“I missed you too…terribly,” I smiled up at him.


He blushed a bit and then pulled off his shirt and his pants.  I tried to be subtle watching him as he turned around and changed, but it was certainly difficult. I didn’t think I was going to ever get used to him wearing so little.


He changed into his soccer jersey and the same pair of black and red pants I’d seen him wear when I last saw him perform.  He was becoming Jack the Rock Star right before my eyes.  A part of me was sad by it, but I didn’t know why.


“Just a few more touches,” he assured me, sitting on the chair over by a mirror.  He began to apply his stage make-up and mussed his hair up a bit more with some gel.


Yes, he truly was a rock star.


“What’s wrong?” he looked at me, once he’d completed his look.


“Nothing,” I smiled at him, “Nothing at all.”



*   *   *


The show was amazing.  Jack had stood next to me, protectively holding my hand through the opening acts’ performances and though I hated to let go, it was certainly worth it to watch him perform himself.  Even though I had seen him play live before, it was just as powerful as the first time.  His passion filled the whole theatre, everyone’s hearts seeming to beat right along with his, following him on his frenetic journey.  It seemed as if just as soon as it had started though, it was over and Jack was rushing off the stage with Meg. 


He practically ran to embrace me, sweating and hot, his breathing heavy.  He didn’t say a word, but simply squeezed me to him. He didn’t need to speak, he was saying so much.  The crowd chanted outside for more, rising to such a fever pitch that he pulled away to look at Meg and they nodded back towards the stage.


“A few more minutes and I’m completely yours again,” he said, cupping my face in his palms and kissing me quickly on the lips.  Then he rushed back off into the bright lights of the stage.


He and Meg tore through three powerful encores before saying their final goodbyes to the audience.  The crowd roared for them, getting louder and louder as they took their bows and exited the stage.  It was over though.



*   *   *


“Do I look alright?” Jack asked, coming out of the shower of our hotel room.


He was wearing his black suit, black shirt, and red tie ensemble, emulated by his crew.  He had on his black derby hat and his hair combed straight.  He looked, as always, amazing.


“Are you kidding me?” I teased walking up to him and taking his hand.


“There is supposed to be a lot of people at the after-party -- hipsters and celebrities galore.  It’s going to be so LA.” he said with a hint of insecurity, emphasizing the last two words with air quotations with his fingers.  “I want to look alright.”


“You’ll be the best looking man there,” I assured him, stroking his palm.


“Well, I at least have to try to be, since I will have the best looking woman on my arm,” he smiled, leaning down to kiss my blushing cheek.


“Who would that be?  Are you seeing someone behind my back?” I teased.


“No, silly.  I mean, you of course,” he laughed.


“Thanks,” I replied a bit awkwardly, though inwardly I doubted with all of the starlets around, I’d be the “best looking.”


“I don’t really want to go, actually.  I wish we could just hide up here,” he whined, grasping my hand.


“I know, but we really should.  It’s just downstairs.”


“Yes, I think I’ll moonlight a bit and then we can sneak back up here, game?”





*   *   *


Jack nervously made his way through the party, full of “hipsters and celebrities” as he predicted.  He was gracious with everyone he met, talking with them about the tour and the album. You could tell he was bristling a bit with all of the attention, but he seemed to take it in stride.


I excused myself to the bathroom shortly after we arrived.  I wanted to pull my hair up into some pigtails as it was a bit hot in the bar.  I was in the bathroom, quietly fixing my hair when the door suddenly slammed open startling me.


“I knew you’d be here,” I heard an almost snarling voice say.  Much to my surprise, it was Alex.


“Alex, what are you doing here?” I exclaimed.


“Well, I would ask the same, but I think I know.  Seems that shit from the White Stripes has been asking around about me.  They said he was interested in you and look, here you are, what a surprise!” he spat entering the bathroom, closing the door behind him.


“Alex, go away, just leave it,” I yelled at him, grasping a bit onto the sink.  I could tell by the all-too-familiar look in his eyes he was on the verge of getting violent.


“Tell me you’re not sleeping with that piece-of-shit-pussy,” he said, rushing over and grabbing me hard by the arm, shaking me.  I could smell the alcohol on him.  He was certainly drunk.


A toilet flushing stopped us both, causing us to both look at the door to that stall opening slowly.  It was Meg, a look of worry and horror on her face.  Thank God, it was Meg.


“Meg, Meg, get Jack!” I pleaded as she made her way out past us quickly.


“Yeah, get that fuck, bitch!” he yelled out the door after her and then turned back to me, shaking me again.  “Answer my question, are you sleeping with him?”


“Alex,” I pleaded, “Stop, you are hurting me.”


“You’ve always been such a slut, I wouldn’t put it past you, but that fuck?  That faggot fuck?  Come on, Mickey.”


“Shut up, Alex.  Leave me alone, leave us alone.”


“Bitch,” he replied, backhanding me across the mouth, my teeth biting into my cheek causing my mouth to bleed.


Please Jack, please get in here, I thought to myself.  Luckily, just as the thought crossed my mind, the bathroom door slammed open again.  Thankfully this time it was Jack.


“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Alex Shriek,” he said through clinched teeth, his eyes glaring.  I’d never seen him like that before.


Alex shoved me to the floor and I crawled to the corner on the cold tile, trying to stop the blood in my mouth with my hand.  “At your service,” Alex replied, bowing indignantly.


Jack loosened his tie and tossed his hat on the floor beside him.  “What do you think you are doing, Alex?” he said in an angry tone.


“Oh, what? Is your little bodyguard going to come and beat me up?” Alex mocked him.


“I fight my own battles, Alex,” Jacks tone was getting more stern and loud, though it was still even. “I ask you again, what do you think you are doing?”


“I should be asking you the very same question.  Who said you could have my girl?”


“Alex, I’m not your…” I stammered.


“Shut up, bitch,” he interrupted me, pointing at me.


In what seemed a flash, Jack had launched himself at Alex, knocking him to the floor.  Jack was punching him hard, Alex flailing about below him.


There was a string of obscenities between them, before two guys from the opening band rushed in and tried to pull them apart.  It was difficult to unlock the two of them from their wrath and it took Jack’s bodyguard quickly bounding in to finally pull them apart.   He lifted Alex like a little rag doll by his shirt and carried him out of the bathroom.   The other two men were flanking Jack’s side trying to calm him. 


Jack’s tie and jacket was ripped, his face was bright red, and his hair was pressed against his head with sweat.  His chest rose and fell dramatically as he tried to catch his breath.  Jack then looked over at me, the rage in his eyes quickly softening to concern.


He pulled from the two men to join me on the floor. “Oh baby…baby, are you alright?” he asked, stroking my hair, his eyes, surprisingly, tearing up.


I think I was just in shock, watching the people pile in the bathroom and then get ushered out by more of Jack’s crew men (“Nothing to see in here, go back out…”).  “I…I don’t know,” I stammered, my own tears starting to slip down my cheeks.


“David, get some ice and a towel,” he asked one of the men that had come in to stop things.  David rushed out of the room.


“God, I am so sorry,” Jack said, lightly stroking what I was sure to be a bruise on my cheek.


“It wasn’t you,” I replied, I could hear my voice as meek and pitiful.  It sickened me.


“I should have been there for you, I should have protected you from this,” Jack said, smacking his fist against the wall.


“In the ladies room?  You came when you could.”


“Meg…Meg was so freaked out when she came and got me.  She was terrified to leave the stall she was in, but she said she thought if she didn’t, he might kill you,” he said, his eyes darkening a bit with the last words.


I looked over his shoulder to see Meg standing nervously in the doorway.  I was ashamed a bit to look at her, to look at anyone.  It was like, “Hey people, this is my dysfunctional life, welcome to it!”


“Thank you,” I managed to mouth to her.


She smiled back at me and then David came rushing back in with the ice.






Jack put the ice in a towel and pressed it lightly to my cheek.


“Are you alright yourself?” I asked him, his face still flushed.


“Angry, but alright,” he replied, stroking my hair as he held the towel to me.


“Jack?” a deep voice came from the doorway.  It was his bodyguard, BJ.


“One minute, baby,” he said to me, poking my nose with his fingertip.  He got up and went over to BJ and they went out of the bathroom together.


“How are you doing?” David asked calmly.  I just remember mostly how calm he was, as it was so different than his stage presence with Whirlwind Heat.


“Not so bad considering, I guess.”


“I haven’t seen Jack like that in a long time,” Meg added, still standing in the doorway with her arms akimbo.


“Yeah,” David added, looking back at Meg and then to me, “I really thought he was going to kill that guy.”


Jack walked back into the bathroom, rushing a bit to sit on the floor next to me again.  “Do you want to go back to the room yet, baby?”


“Can we just stay here for a bit?” I asked meekly.


“You want to stay here?”


“I’m a bit,” I paused, “ashamed.  I want to wait to the place clears out a bit and people move on from the incident.”


“Okay,” he kissed my exposed cheek, “anything that you want.”


“BJ, can you get the owner to put an ‘out of order’ on the door and let us alone for a while in here?” Jack asked.


“Of course,” BJ replied, leaving the bathroom.


“Yeah, we’ll leave you guys alone,” Meg said, taking David’s arm.


“Thanks,” I said awkwardly.


BJ returned a moment later, placing the “out of order” sign on the door and closing it behind him.


“How fitting,” I mumbled to myself.


“What?” Jack asked, putting an arm around me, now holding me against him as he resumed holding the towel of ice to my cheek.


“I just said ‘how fitting’”


“What is?”


“The ‘out of order’ sign, that’s my life.”


“Oh Mickey, don’t think like that.  You don’t need to be ashamed from all of this, you didn’t do anything.  If anything, I should be ashamed for losing control like I did.”


“I can’t say that I’m unhappy that you did.  You really came to my rescue,” I cooed.


He sighed deeply. “Well, as I said, I wish I could have gotten here sooner, but I’m glad I got in here.”


“What happened to Alex?  Do you think he is still out there?” I asked, a bit of fear rising in me.


“No, Alex won’t be bothering us for a while.  BJ took him out back, gave him a good talking.  He said it looks like I messed him up pretty bad, even might have broken his nose.  BJ basically told him he’d finish the job if he doesn’t leave us alone.  With BJ being as intimidating as he is, its no wonder Alex left quietly after that.  I think he went to the hospital.”


“Wow,” I sighed.  “What a totally bizarre experience.”


“He’s done that before, hasn’t he?” Jack asked, his voice tinged with a bit of bitterness.


“He’s…been violent, yes -- really only when he has too much to drink, though.  I have never seen him that bad before.”


Jack pulled me to him a little tighter. “You’ll never have to worry about that from me, I promise.”


“I know.”


We sat there for a few minutes silently, just sitting on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor.  I should have been completely uncomfortable, but with Jack, it felt almost like home. 


“Is there anything else I can do for you, baby?” Jack asked.


“Sing for me, I love it when you sing.”


“I might not sound so great without any music, laughing a bit,” he said, “but I’ll do anything you want.”


He began to tap his foot against the wall and slap his thigh in a rhythm and then began to sing a medley of songs – “Apple Blossom,” “Truth Doesn’t Make a Noise,” “You’ve Got Her in Your Pocket,” and a few more I lost track of.


It was really lovely and calming and actually lulled me to sleep.


“Put your troubles in a little pile and I will sort them out for you…”



*   *   *



“Mickey?” I heard Jack’s voice softly say, awakening me from my small nap.


I opened my eyes and smiled at him.  “We should probably head up to the room now,” he added.


“Okay,” I said, letting him help me up from the floor.  My body was sore because of the odd position I had been sitting in.


“Let’s get you upstairs and I’ll draw you a nice hot bath.  That will be really good for you,” Jack offered, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and leading me out.


He dropped the wet rag from the ice at the bar and the owner let us slip through the back entrance to get upstairs with as little fanfare as possible.


“I guess I ruined your party,” I said as we stepped into the service elevator.


“Never,” he corrected me, covering my lips with his fingertip.


“You must think all that I do is sleep.  At home I rarely do, actually, I’m a bit of an insomniac.”  I said to him, a bit self-conscious about falling asleep with him yet again.


“You’ve had a lot going on, Mickey. I’m amazed you are holding up as well as you have,” he reassured me.


We exited the elevator at our floor and made our way back to his room.  He ushered me immediately to the bedroom, sitting me down on the bed, slowly peeling off my clothes and shoes for me, and then pulled the blanket around me.  “I’ll be right back,” he said, going into the bathroom.  I could hear him turn on the faucet to the tub.


He came back out of the bathroom a few moments later, sitting next to me on the bed.  He began to massage my shoulders, trying to ease the tension of the evening.  I let myself go limp to his ministrations, letting him take care of me.  It was hard -- I had always been independent and never liked to ask anyone for help.  I was too tired to fight him though and I could feel something welling up in me that I hadn’t quite counted on – trust.


“It should be ready in a few minutes, it should help you relax,” he said quietly.


Within what seemed to be too short of a time, he got up again to check on the water in the tub.  I could hear the squeak of the faucets being turned off.  He reappeared in the bathroom doorway and made his way back over to me.


“It’s ready, baby,” he said, taking my hands and lifting me from the bed.  I let the blanket fall to my sides and walked nude towards the bathroom with him.  It was almost like I was in trance, it was really strange.  Still, my senses snapped to recognition as soon as I neared the bathroom door and I stopped cold.


“What’s wrong?” Jack asked, looking at me concerned.


It had just hit me.  I hadn’t yet been able to bring myself to look at my face since “the incident”, simply burying my face in Jack’s chest when we left the bathroom downstairs.  I knew that in the hotel bathroom with its mirrored walls, I would not be able to escape it.  “I don’t want to see myself,” I said, pulling a hand from his and covering my bruise with it.  I could still feel its tenderness.


“Mickey,” Jack stepped closer, taking the hand on my face into his own. “You are beautiful.”






“I’m scared, Jack,” I whimpered.


“You never have to be scared with me,” he replied, leading me slowly into the bathroom.  I kept my eyes on the floor as he led me to the tub, a big garden number usually standard in such hotels.  I stepped inside the heat of the water and slowly lowered myself in the steam rising up.


Jack smiled down at me and then pealed off his own clothes, his body looking even more beautiful to me than before for some reason.  I could see he had his own war wounds though, a few bruises on his arms and chest, but nothing too serious.


He slid into the tub behind me, pulling me between his legs.


“Now let’s get you washed up,” he said, taking some soap and a washcloth and began to lightly wash my upper body.


I was surprised how sensual the experience was.  Before when we had taken a bath together, we had sort of played around like children and just had a good time, but this time, he was actually washing me and apart from early childhood, I don’t think I’d ever had that done to me. 


I let myself relax against him, feeling a slight arousal well within when I began to feel his own arousal pressed against me from behind.  I slid my hand back to touch him, forever eager to please, but he stopped my hand and held it.


“Not now, baby,” he said softly, kissing my neck. “This bath is for you.”


He continued to wash me, lingering on my breasts and belly.  It was oddly paternal and sexual at the same time, but certainly delightful.  I moaned in pleasure, leaning back more into the warmth of his chest and the heat of his sex.  He slipped his hand down to my thighs, hidden by a gathering of bubbles, and slowly began to caress between them.


I was wet from more than the water and Jack was taking full advantage.  I didn’t really care that it didn’t involve washing, the man knew how to do things with his fingers that I could barely comprehend. 


“I once read that psychiatrists used to use vibrators and such on their female patients to calm their anxieties,” he murmured, his voice a mix of playfulness and salacity.  “Am I doing any good?”


“Yes, Dr. Jack, oh yes,” I whined, arching my back to press myself more against his fingers as their pressure became stronger and faster.


I let myself go to the pleasure, forgetting about the evening and all of the other stupid insecurities that I’d let rule me for so long.  The two of us were moaning in the tub, Jack lightly bucking his hips against my back as his touching was reaching a crescendo.   My climax hit me hard and I held tightly to his hand and to the side of the tub with its intensity and then fell, limply, back against him.


He wrapped his arms around me, holding me against him, nuzzling my neck.  “What about you?” I asked.


“Oh…I can take care of that.”


“Do you not want to…have sex?” I asked, a bit surprised.


“Oh yes, I do, I just think you’ve been through enough today for that.  It would be selfish of me.”  Was this guy for real?


I turned to look at him, “Well then…can I watch?”


He looked at me, his eyes and face conveying that he was a bit nonplussed by my question.  “Do you…want to?” he asked, a little blush rising in his cheeks.


I shifted to move myself to the other side of the tub to face him.  “Yes, very much.”


Sitting across from me, he smiled at me a bit nervously, and then closed his eyes and moved his hand between his legs.  His legs were at my sides, so I lightly began to caress them.  He practically growled, stroking himself slowly, little sighs and moans escaping his lips.  I was surprised at how exciting he was to watch and, interestingly enough, how he looked remarkably similar to how he looks when he performs on stage.


He opened his eyes to look at me, half-lidded, his teeth now biting his lower lip.  “So beautiful,” he murmured, “So beautiful.”


We retained eye contact as his movements became a bit more intense, even a little frenzied.  I found myself slipping my hand between my legs, lightly caressing my own self as he was turning me on far too much again.


Mmm, yes,” he sighed, watching me touch myself.


His sighs and moans quickly became louder, the muscles in his legs tightening, and his hips rising slightly off the porcelain of the tub.  His hand moved quickly on himself, soon rendering him to his own climax, the ejaculate slipping between his fingers.






Jack awoke early the next morning for his photo shoot.  He put on his white suit, a white hat, and a red shirt. I could see the bruises on his arm when he still had his jacket off.


“Will that be alright for the shoot?” I asked, pointing at the bruises while sitting up in bed in a robe.


“They always airbrush anyway,” he waved it off. 


He sat next to me, kissing my cheek as I held a hot mug of coffee.  “Are you going to be alright?  I’d invite you along, but I’d hate you to be half as bored as we will be.”


“No, that’s alright, I have some notes I need to put together for my meetings tomorrow.  I should stay here and work on that.”


“God, it’s almost over.  I can’t believe that it is Sunday already,” he sighed. “Don’t go.”


“I wish I could stay, I do, but I really have to get back,” I replied, leaning against him.


“I know, I just thought I’d try,” he smiled at me.


There was a knock on the door and Jack got up to answer it.  I could tell by the voices that it was Meg and BJ. 


I got up peeked around the corner.  Meg noticed me and waved.


“Good Morning, Mickey,” she said.


“Good Morning.”


“We’ll try to not keep Jack too long,” she added.


“I hope not, we are going to get saved this morning!” Jack proclaimed enthusiastically, throwing up his hands.


We all said our goodbyes and they left for their photo shoot.  I myself simply went over to the table and settled in with my laptop.


Having trouble focusing on the impending work I needed to do, instead I found myself writing a long letter to Zoe about how the weekend had gone.  I mean, yes, I was going to be telling her in full detail most likely within the next 24 hours, but a part of me needed to get it all out in writing, get it solidified before it faded away into the vast recesses of my memories. 


I told her about everything, good and bad, and how odd things had turned out after all.  Jack had surprised me in so many ways and though I was sure that I hadn’t yet begun to peel away the layers of his psyche, I had at least seen a bit more of him than most.  It was funny going into the weekend I had so many reservations about things and now it seemed they’d all been lifted from me.  It was almost as if I’d even changed a little bit in those mere 48 hours and that even though things would resume their normal pace sooner than I would like, there was a part of me permanently transformed by the experience.


Jack returned about 3 hours later, around noon.  He looked a bit exhausted, but his eyes were aglow. 


“Hey there,” he chimed excitedly, kissing the top of my head and I saved my notes on the computer.


I turned around to look up at him.  “How did it go?”


“Same old, same old, I guess.  I always feel awkward doing those things.  Besides, now they are always trying to get me to affect a ‘sexy look’ and I just feel stupid.”


“Well, you do look sexy,” I kissed the material covering his belly, “but I am biased.”


He held me to him for a moment and then said, “It’s about 12:00, so we should start to get ready.  I definitely should change.  I don’t want to stand out like a sore thumb.”


“Yeah,” I looked down at myself, still donning the robe, “I need to get ready as well.”


Jack changed into a plain black t-shirt, black slacks, a white belt, and a black jacket.  He said he “just wanted to blend into the darkness” with me.  I just threw on a plain pair of black pants and a black and blue striped polo.  It certainly wasn’t our “Sunday best”, we looked more like two teenagers crashing a mass, but I could see Jack was tired of the public eye for the weekend.  Too bad it was never getting tired of him.


We walked hand in hand to the House of Blues for the gospel brunch.  It was quite an experience -- soul food and good ole’ gospel.  The crowd was on their feet by the end, caught up in the moment.  Jack and I stuffed ourselves with cornbread, southern fried chicken, biscuits and gravy, homemade waffles, and homemade peach cobbler whilst talking about the shows excitement and comparing it the often humdrum atmosphere of a classic Catholic mass.  It was definitely different and made me regret a little bit not going to church for far too long.


Leaving was hard as they began to clear out the place, not so much just because we’d have such a great time, but because we knew that my departure time was nearing quickly.  My flight was at 6:00, getting me back home around 1:00 AM, and it was 3:00 PM as we left the venue and headed back to the hotel. 


Jack held me close to his side as we slowly made our way back to the hotel room, a sad silence falling between us.  We quietly began to putter about the room once upstairs, each of us packing – me for that night and him for the next morning.  While pressing my clothes into my suitcase, I felt Jack’s arms wrap me. 


“I don’t want you to go,” he said, his face nuzzling into my hair.


I turned to face him, embracing him.  “I don’t want to either.  I wish today would never end.”


Much too soon after, we found ourselves in a car on the way to LAX, Jack’s arm around me, a staunch look on his face.  Once we arrived at the airport, Jack kissed me for a long time and held me to him before BJ, who was driving, said, “Sir, she should probably check in.”


I looked at my watch.  It was 4:30.  Time had passed much too quickly.  Jack walked me inside, walking with me as far as he could before security stopped him, and then kissed me one final time.


I wanted that moment to simply be in slow motion, but the busy hum of the energy of LAX seemed to make things rush too fast.  It seemed before I knew it, I was boarded onto the plane and in the air on the way back home. 


I pulled out my laptop, once allowed, to make some final notes for the next day.  Flipping it open, I found a somewhat crinkled piece of paper inside, pressed against the screen and the keys of the keyboard.


I opened it up, flattening it out.  It was a letter from Jack.


“My dear Mickey,


You have made me the happiest man alive right now and I just needed to tell you that this last weekend was the best weekend that I have had in far too long of time.  Even with all of the drama and craziness around us, I couldn’t have asked for anything more. 


I will call you as often as I can, probably soon making you tired of me.  I hate to see you go, but I know that you have your responsibilities as I do.  One responsibility I have though is to tell you that my door is always open for you and I hope that you know I will always be there.  I will be counting the hours until I see you again.


With Much Affection,


Jack III”







N A V I G A T I O N :


Want to return to the beginning of “Harder To Be A Gentleman”?


Comments? Criticism? Adoration?

Private or Public


Back to Fan Fiction Archive    ç Back to White Stripes Fan Fiction Home


Back to WS Fanfic LiveJournal Community Page