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Under the Goddess Moon	By : Neverseenblue Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > U2 Views: 3121 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of U2. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Latter that day:

“Don’t scrunch your eyes like that; I’m not going to poke them out.” Heather said as she lined my eye lids. My hands were too shaky to do it myself.

“Sorry,” I said trying to relax my lids “I’m just not use to having something sharp and pointy held at my face”

“I don’t know you you are so nervous, it’s not like you haven’t slept with him already. It’s only dinner for christ sakes.” she said as she finished with the last delicate strokes of the eye shadow. “There, how is that?”

“It’s beautiful, thanks.” I said, and meant it, “You are so good at this sort of stuff”

“No problem,” she replied waving off my thanks, “I just want to hear all the good details when you get home. Now go get on the dress, it’s almost time for you to leave and you don’t want to keep him waiting.”

The dress was a darling little black number with an open back and plunging neck line. It was a bit on the expensive side, but when I saw it I knew it would be perfect for tonight. I added to the ensemble my mother’s diamond earrings and a matching diamond necklace I had received for my sixteenth birthday. Heather had done my hair up in an elegant coiffure. Looking at myself in the mirror I hardly recognized my reflection. Who was this sophisticated young woman?

I arrived at Bern’s at 6 o’clock sharp. I had never felt so nervous in my life, my hands were still a bit on the shaky side, and my heart was in my throat. I gave a weak smile to the door man as he opened the large oak door, and stepped into the grand lobby. The shear size of the place felt overwhelming. The ceiling soared 2 stories above my head. The walls were done up in a warm red color, decked out with gilded old fashion portraits. A stair way encased in green Italian marble curved up to a second floor. I felt so out of place amidst such decadence, the little old country mouse in the big city.

“My I help you?” asked a friendly voice.

I turned to the hostess, a pleasant looking young lady, “I was supposes to meet a gentleman here tonight,” now what? Who should I ask for, Bono or Mr. Hewson?

The hostess gave me the once over, oh no, I thought, here it comes she is going to see right through me.

“Ah, you must be Amber! We have been expecting you”

Expecting me! I was a bit taken aback, but pleased. “Yes” I nodded, “I’m her”

The hostess beckoned to yet another friendly smiling young woman, “This is Samantha, she’ll see you to your guest”

I followed the friendly waitress; did they even call them waitress in such a place? I followed her as she led the way back amongst the lavish dinning room. White linen table cls, ps, polished gilt mirrors, and delicate candle light abound. Soft mummers came from tables half cloaked in shadows and a roving violin played somewhere in the distance. And all through out the same claret red décor, I felt as though I was swimming through a pleasant warm sea.

Samantha was leading me to a little secluded table set back in a niche in the wall, it was away from prying eyes, and easily over looked by the other patrons. As we approached the table I noticed Bono was already there, toying with the menu. As I came nearer he looked up and once again I was struck by his piercing gaze. Every thing else fell away from me then; when he looked at you like that it was as if you were the only person in the world. Nothing existed then but him and I, the world around us a mere fog, and I was being drawn to him, as surly as if he was pulling at me through some invisible cord.

He gave me a warm, wonderful smile as I sat down across from ha soa soft gentleness shown in his blue eyes every time that smile light up his face. I couldn’t help but respond to it, a hot sweet pang of desire raced through my insides.

“You look lovely tonight” Bono said.

I hope I my face wasn’t blushing. “Thank you,” I said “You look nice too”

“I’m glad you came tonight, I was worried you wouldn’t” He said with what seemed to be sincerity in his voice.

“Why wouldn’t I come?” I asked, “Dinner at Bern’s is worth even the most insufferable company” I smiled as I said the last part, taking the chance he wouldn’t mind the slight jab at his ego.

“Insufferable?” he said, cocking an eyebrow, “I’ve been called many things but never Insufferable.”

“Maybe that’s because you’ve been hanging out with all the wrong sorts of people.”

He laughed softly, “Well I enjoyed hanging out with you last night, you seem to be quite the sort of company I need.”

I must have been blushing for sure by now. I didn’t quite know how to respond to that, and an uncomfortable silence settled between us. But luckily I was rescued from saying anything by the appearance of the maître d'. I wondered briefly if they are trained to show up at awkward moments. Thankfully Bono didn’t expect me to make the wine selection either, he quickly rattled off the name of something that sounded French, and the maître d' quietly slipped back into the shadows.

“Small talk seems rather out of place now, after last night” He said, rubbing his slightly bearded chin.

I nodded “Yes, things did seem easier between us last night”

Bono reached across the table and took my hand in his. A lovely tingle ran along my arm and up to my spine at the touch of his hand. “I want to get to know you better.” He said, and again he gave me that look as if I was the only person in the world.

“What do you want to know?”

"Well, what do you do for a living? What do you do for fun? What do you love?"

“You don’t ask for much, do you?” I replied.

Again that mischievous grin lit up his eyes. “No, just the little things,” he responded.

“Well,” I began “I’m an art history major, and also I’m taking classes in restoration. I’m interning part time at the Tampa’s Museum of Art.”

“What do you do there?”

“Oh, a bit of everything. Mostly cataloging, but recently I’ve been allowed to help with restoring some of the older paintings.”

“Really? What’s that like?”

“I guess most would find it rather boring, tedious work. But I think it’s fascinating. You get such a new appreciation of the talent the old masters had when you work so intimately with a painting. When all the dirt and grim is lifted off, and the colors are still there after so many centuries, it’s like discovering a hidden treasure.” I hope I wasn’t boring him with my ramblings, but he seemed far from bored. Instead he continued to ask questions, and soon we found our selves quite engrossed in conversation. Again I was amazed at Bono’s knowledge of things I would think a rock star would have little interest in. I began to think of him more as a person, and less as a well known celebrity.

Our orders were taken and dinner served by the unobtrusive staff, it seemed as though we were the only two people there, a little private retreat from world. It was like being in a wonderful dream I thought. A marvelous, delicious dream, and I hope it would be one I wouldn’t wake up from in a long time. It seemed to go by so fast. Before I knew desert was being offered.

“Feeling up to something sinful?” Bono asked.

“I believe I could indulge in something naughty” I answered.

To my surprise we were shown to a separate dinning room. Bono offered me his arm, and I accepted, imagining I could feel the heat of his skin through the fine material of his shirt. I was quite delighted when we where shown into the desert room. Several half moon tables set deeply into the wall surrounded a baby grand piano being expertly played. As we slid into the plush lined booth, I recognized the tune as being the Moonlight Sonata. It’s haunting, eerie melody wrapped around us, the notes rolling over us as if they were tangible. We decide on splitting a Fraise Tart dripping with fresh strawberries and decadent white chocolate mouse.

My senses were alive and reeling. The sheer closeness of being near him was amazing. It was intoxicating, never before had I met a man who could inflame my desire by just looking at me. We were sitting quite close, our thighs touching, and every where our bodies met a spark went through the fabric of my dress and raced along my body. The wine had gone to my head and I was feeling bold. I slipped off one shoe and began to caress his leg in slow, languid strokes. My actions were rewarded as a flame of wantonness kindled in his eyes, and he gave me a salutary come hither smile. Our desert arrived; Bono deftly spooned up a serving and held it out to me. I accepted and smiled in pure bliss and the rich, delicious concoction melted on my tongue.

“How is it?” Bono asked.

“Why don’t you find out?” I replied with a teasing smile of my own.

“I think I will,” he said and with that his hands cradled my head and drew me in closer to him. Bono’s lips softly brushed mine, his tongue gently tracing my lips. “Sweet,” he murmured, “so sweet.”

I reached out, my hands finding their way along his chest, fingers griping his shirt front as the kiss deepened. Desert was forgotten as I craved for something more fulfilling. His hands tilted back my head and his mouth went to work on my neck, shivers ran out of control up and down my spine. My heart was pounding in my chest; I couldn’t get enough of him. It was all moving way to fast; I needed to come up for air.

“Maybe it’s time we should leave” I whispered.

“Yes I think you’re right”

As we stepped out of the building I was surprised to find it dark already. Had we really be in the restaurant for hours?

It seemed so strange to be standing there waiting for the valet to bring his car around-- like we were some sort of normal couple. I hated these little pauses, these little awkward moments when reality wants to intrude into this wonderful little fantasy that I had the incredible luck to be caught up in. I didn’t want this night to end. But I was unsure about what steps to take next. Luckily Bono made the next move.

He slipped his arm around me and drew me up close to him. My breath caught as I felt the length of his body along mine. I looked up into his eyes, so blue and sparkling full of mischief.

“Where to now, little Minx” he asked, I was beginning to enjoy hearing him call me that. I racked my brain for an answer.

“Uhm, I know where there is a nice little secluded beach not far from here…”my voice trailed off suggestively.

“Sounds perfect”

The valet arrived with his car, and opened the passenger side door for me. I slid into the leather trimmed interior, and quickly gave Bono directions to the beach, and we were off speeding along Bayshore Blvd. The sodium lights made strange patterns of light and shadow as they flashed above us in an almost hypnotic way. Bono’s face would be a washed in the strange orange glow only for a second before it disappeared back into darkness again. Over and over, light then dark, his expressions highlighted as if in some odd Muybridge picture show I was enjoying watching him as he drove, his mind seeming to focus on the road and traffic, even though there was few cars.

I settled back in the deep bucket seats and watched the moon rise over the bay. A few minutes passed and I pointed to the turn off from the main road. Bono slowed the car to a stop by a small wooden cottage nessettled deeply amidst the sea-oats and palms, overlooking the bay.

“You can park over here in the drive way,” I directed “It’s ok, my parents own it”

“Brining me home to meet the folks already?” Bono asked sounding amused.

“No, they live up in Jacksonville; they only come down for a few months during the summer. It’s empty now”

We got out of the car, and I ran up to the back porch, I could hear him following me up the steps. “I’m just going to run in and grab a blanket for us” I said as I fumbled for the key I knew my parents kept hidden under the mat.

The house was dark, light only by the moonlight coming in from the windows. My parents only kept the electric on during the months they stay in it. But they had owned it since I was a little girl and I knew the insides like the back of my own hand and easily found my way to the linen closet. The air inside had the stale musty scent of house that had been closp, sp, so on my way back I opened a few windows to let in the breeze. The gentle wind stirred the lose curtains, making them look like ghostly dancers. I shivered at the imagery and hurried back out to Bono.

I found him leaning against the railing, staring out over the waves, a distance look in his eyes. I took his hand in mine and he turned back to me, a slight smile on his lips, his hands gave mine a quick squeeze. “It’s beautiful here” he said.

I gave his hand a tug, “Come on, lets go down to the beach” I said, kicking off my pumps and leading him down through the dunes. We neared the water’s edge and spread the blanket down on the sand. We sat side by side on the blanket; a silence sprang up between us again. But unlike before this time if felt comfortable, like two old friends who didn’t need to fill up the air with chatter. For a while we simply enjoyed the beauty of the night, the soft roar of the ocean as the waves gently lapped at the shore. This was –is my favorite place in the world. It’s where I go when ever I need to think or work out my feelings. I certainly needed to think through m feelings about Bono. The last 24 hours had gone by in such a rush. I was unsure what I felt, unsure if my feelings towards Bono where genuine or just the product of excitement at being around someone who I had admired, but didn’t know, for so many years.

It was impossible to concentrate on any one thing for long while in Bono’s overwhelming present. Especially since he was doing his best to make it hard to focus on anything but his hands that were doing wicked little things to my skin. I leaned in closer to him, his arms wrapping me in a tight embrace. I laid my head on his shoulder with a content sigh. I would figure out my emotions in the morning; but for now I was content just to enjoy being in his arms.

His hands brushed a strand of hair out of my face, and then slowly begun letting my hair down, massaging the tension from my scalp with deft fingers. I closed my eyes and surrendered to his touch, felt his lips kiss my forehead, my eyelids; his soft breath moving against my skin. I shivered in pleasure. My hands roamed up his arms, caressing the fine muscles there. His mouth moved atop mine, his lips velvet soft, coaxing my mouth to open for him.

My hands began to unbutton his shirt, and I slipped my arms beneath the fabric and wound them around his back, delighting in the feel of his hard muscles moving beneath the skin. His lips trailed along my chin and down to nibbled on my ear, then lower as he nuzzled my neck, the sharp stubble on his chin pricking my skin and sending quivers along my spine.

Bono slipped the strap of my dress off one shoulder as his mouth worked its way along my body, each touch like liquid fire. I was dizzy with passion, the little voice in the back of my head screamed that I should stop this before it went too far again. I knew I could forgive myself for succumbing to temptation once or even e; be; but what if I wanted more? The niggling voice asked.

I pressed my hands against his chest, “Bono,” I whispered as I drew away from him.

“Yes Luv” he answered. I looked up into his eyes again. The moonlight gave them a silver gleam, and once again I was drowning, going under in those twin pools of hunger.
The little voice in my head cried out—Stop This, tell him now! But I was lost, the further I sunk into his gaze, the quieter the voice became till it was ly aly a whisper and then was gone. I slipped my hand behind his neck and pulled him back to me, “Don’t Stop,” I entreated.

His mouth captured mine again, this time the kiss hard and demanding. He pressed me down onto the blanket, covering me with his body as he assaulted my senses. I gave myself over to his fevered touch, eagerly returning his embrace, his kisses. I nibbled his neck, swirled my tongue against the throbbing pulse. I ran my hands down his chest, the crisp curls tangling my fingers, as I sought out the firm tight nipples teasing them with a feather touch.

Slowly he drew his hand along my leg, stroking the back of my knee before working his way up to the sensitive skin along my thigh. I trembled, held my breath and waited for him to brand my skin with his touch. Desire bloomed under my skin, as his fingers worked their magic, sending sweet pangs of hunger deep inside me. I moaned in sheer waness ess into his mouth. I pressed myself harder against his body, my fingers digging into his flesh.

A wave washed in near us, soaking the blanket, and dimly I noted that the tide was coming in. The wetness did nothing to dampen our ardor. If anything it heighten it, the thought of making love in the surf wildly exciting. The next breaker surged around us, as the yearning climaxed even higher. The next wave crashed over us, the salt water burning my eyes. We came up laughing and sputtering. Jumping up I took off in the direction of the cottage, sending a challenging "catch me if you can" over my shoulder.

Bono catches me as I near the porch, his strong arm wrapping around my waist and lifting me off my feet. The sand gives away beneath his feet and we go down in an ungraceful heap to the ground. We are both damp, breathless and slightly sandy.

“Lets go in and get cleaned up” I suggest.
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Under the Goddess Moon