Chapter Fourteen

Standing in her bedroom Stephanie stared out the window at the inky darkness.  God, what was she doing?  Could she be any more of an idiot?  She’d been in Richie Sambora’s arms and what did she do?  She’d made him stop.  Sighing, she turned from the window and stalked to the bathroom to fill her tub.

Once they’d gotten past the awkwardness and finished the movie in a somewhat comfortable silence she’d busied herself with food.  A savory beef stew that had been simmering away in her crock pot to start and a couple of games of pool had been their dessert.

Then he had brought her back home.

The ride back from his house had disaster written all over it.  All she could focus on was being alone so she could think. She rubbed a hand across her forehead. The ghost of his soft kiss there seemed so much more intimate than the interlude on his sofa.

Disgusted, she stripped off her clothes and jammed a clip into her hair before slipping into the steamy, frothy tub.  The hot water should have settled her. What was wrong with her? It would serve her right if he didn’t call her, even though he said he would.  She didn’t deserve this man’s attention after the way she treated him today.  But she couldn’t help herself.  Her reaction to his touch had scared her to her very bones.  Only Mark had ever made her feel like that.  It wasn’t right.

Was it?

Reaching over she flipped on her iPod, dialing through to her quiet time play list.  The music surrounded her as she sank to her chin in the bubbles, her memories playing like a movie in her mind.

A tear escaped down her cheek.  Mark’s face blurred with that of another before slowly dissipating back into that of the man she had loved so dearly.  Mark had been her first, and only, lover.  They had started dating at sixteen and they had been stupid in love as only teenagers can be.  They shared their first real kisses, did a lot of heavy petting, but never actually did the deed until nearly two years later.  She was just shy of her 18th birthday that first time.  Salty tears burned into the smile of memories.  

Those first intimate touches had been scary, exciting, and awkward all at the same time. Neither one of them had experience so they just kind of fumbled along, eventually figuring things out and getting it right.  They had laughed afterward, and then tried again.

Things had only gotten better after that.

Her hands slid down her body, remembering Mark’s hands and the way he’d touched her.

It had all been new and exciting as only that first time can be.  They had learned so much and grown together, loving, exploring, trying new and different things.  Their love life had never become staid and boring.

She shifted in the tub, her hands wandering like they hadn’t in more than a year.  She shifted her knees apart, her fingers sliding lower, guilt and needs swirled inside her.  She needed this. It’s okay to do this.  The ache and loneliness eased with each brush of her fingers around her clit. The warmth of the water and memories drifted into possibilities. It had been so long, she shuddered at her own touch.  Closing her eyes a face swam into view.

Now there was someone new.  Someone who wanted her like Mark had.  She whispered his name to the empty room.  

Richie.  

She gasped as she slid two fingers inside herself.  It wasn’t Mark’s face.  It was Richie’s eyes she focused on.  It was his fingers, his long, strong, slender fingers she could practically feel sliding over her skin. A man she had known for 25 years, but still didn’t really know.  A man who she was sure could bring her that pleasure again.

Her orgasm heaved through her, leaving her trembling in the tub.  Tears slid down her cheeks and mingled with the rapidly cooling water as she turned and rested her forehead on the cool, fiberglass edge.

Taking a deep breath she found her legs, pulled the plug on the drain and climbed out of the tub.  Still trembling, she dried off and wrapped up in her soft terry bathrobe.  Curling up on the seat by the window she resumed her staring contest with the night sky.  The clouds had started to break up a little and she could just see the hint of pale moonlight playing around the edges of the clouds.

What was she going to do?  She missed Mark so much, but the whole point of moving out here was, not to forget, but to try to move past the pain and loss and start living again.  Her head dropped forward to rest on a cool pane of glass.  But was that supposed to include finding another man to be with?  She wished she had some answers, but all she had were questions.  She was such a mess.

Rolling her forehead against the glass she rose from the bench and headed downstairs.  She needed to talk to someone.  Slipping into her office she booted up her laptop and glanced at the clock.   Maybe one of her friends was still up and could talk to her.  Or maybe her sister was still awake.

To:  The Girls
From:  Q
Re:  Help…

Hey girls, I need your help.  You’re not going to believe how I spent my day.  Richie (yes THAT Richie) came by and we ended up spending the day at his house watching a moving and playing pool!

But that’s not my problem.  He kissed me and things got a little heated and I had to stop him.  He said it was all right, but I still feel so mixed up about things.  It wasn’t that I didn’t like what was happening, I did, but … God … it wasn’t Mark.

I just don’t know if I can be with him like that… am I being an idiot about this?

Thanks…

Q

She hit send and waited, hoping someone was awake on the other end.

~

Catte was just getting ready to shut down her computer and try to get some sleep. Insomnia was a bitch sometimes.  Three in the morning and she was still awake, but at least it was Saturday and she didn’t have to be anywhere tomorrow.   She sat up a little straighter when she saw the e-mail from Stephanie.

Opening it up her eyes nearly bugged out of her head at the first sentence of the e-mail. Oh my God.  She continued to read and her jaw dropped open.  Holy shit.  Getting to the end she felt a pang of sadness for her friend.  She thought about her own husband and the cattelet all snug and tucked away in their beds.  She couldn’t imagine losing either or both of them and having to start all over. 

She picked up her phone; sleep was going to have to wait.  This called for a voice-to-voice discussion, not just words typed on a computer screen.

Reclining on the chaise end of her sofa Stephanie had started to doze.  The na na na’s of the ring startled her.  She reached for her phone without looking, knowing it was Catte.  Born to Be My Baby was her favorite song so Stephanie had made it her ringtone.

“Hey.  What are you doing up so late?”

Catte settled back in her chair.  “I swear sleep hates me.  I just read your e-mail.”

“And?  I’m being an idiot about this, right?”

Catte shook her head.  “No, but we’ll get to that.  First, why the HELL didn’t you tell us you were seeing HIM and second, what’s his place really like?”

Stephanie laughed for the first time that night.  “Oh Catte, his place is as amazing as it looked in those pictures we saw online.  And I didn’t tell anyone because I wasn’t really sure what was going to happen.”  She paused before quietly continuing.  “I’m still not sure.”

“Tell me what happened” Catte gently prodded.

Stephanie told her everything, from the time they left her house until the time he brought her back, about her indecision, her guilt.  “I don’t know what to do.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty” Catte started.  “You’ve done nothing wrong.  You just need some time sweetie and if Richie’s the kind of guy we all think and hope he is, he’ll understand that.”

Stephanie drew in a shaky breath.  “He said he understood.  He also said he wanted to kiss me again.”

Catte chuckled.  “So let him.  Let him take you out too.  Date a little; don’t jump right into bed with him if you’re not ready for that.  Make him work for it.”

She knew Catte was right.  It was good to hear it out loud though.  “You’re right.  Thanks for listening to me being an idiot, Catte.  Have I mentioned lately that I love you?”

“I love you too sweetie, we all do and we just want you to be happy.  Now,” she yawned and rose from her chair, “I’m going to try to get some sleep.”

Stephanie glanced at the clock on the wall.  They had been the phone for nearly an hour.  “Shit, I’m sorry I kept you so long.”

“Don’t worry about it.  You get some sleep too.  We’ll talk again soon.  G’night.”

“Good night.”  Stephanie turned her phone off and settled back on the couch thinking about what Catte had said and hoping that Richie would actually call her again like he promised.

Chapter Thirteen

Play it once, Sam. For old times' sake.

Stephanie sighed and unconsciously settled closer to Richie, resting her head on his shoulder.  She loved this part, loved this movie.

Play it, Sam. Play "As Time Goes By."

She hummed along as Sam started playing the old ballad.  She loved this timeless classic.

Richie looked down at her, his lips curving into a small smile as she hummed slightly off key and her eyes drifted closed.  He couldn’t think of a better way to spend a rainy Saturday afternoon. Heather had never been a fan of the old black and whites.  Denise like to be out and about every waking minute and Nikki, well, he wasn’t really sure.  He hadn’t taken the time to find out what, other than designing clothes and making music, she liked to do.

He sighed.  Nikki.

He really needed to talk to her.  He had to end their intimate relationship before this thing, whatever it was turning into with Stephanie, got any more serious.  No way was he going to be a player like that.  It just wasn’t his style.  Never had been.  Sure he had been with a lot of women, more than he cared to remember at this stage in his life, but he was never the type to string one along while on the arm of another.  No, tomorrow before he went to pick up Ava, he’d make the phone call he’d put off for much too long.  He wanted to keep working with Nikki, but that was it.  He just hoped that conversation went well.

His decision made and feeling more content for it, he turned his attention back to the movie and the woman snuggled up at his side.  He slipped his arm around her to keep her close, tangled his fingers in the fall of curls down her back and quietly sang along with Sam the piano player.

You must remember this
A kiss is still a kiss
A sigh is just a sigh
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by
And when two lovers woo,
They still say, "I love you"
On that you can rely
No matter what the future brings...

Stephanie’s eyes flew open when she felt a strong arm sliding around her and the low whispery voice singing the time-honored love song.  God his voice was amazing.  As the song ended and the movie played on, she lifted her head up so she could see his face.  The contentment she found there surprised her.  Had she put that look on his face or was it just because of the song, the movie?  Just then he tilted his head to look at her and the warmth in his golden brown eyes radiated through her and any thought she might have had fled.

He couldn’t help himself.  He didn’t even try.  When she tipped her head up and her pretty pink lips dropped open that tiny little bit, he really had no choice.  His free hand came up to gently cup her cheek, drawing her up just a little closer.  Keeping his eyes open, watching for her reaction he lowered his lips to hers, as lightly has he had in the car, and waited.

She didn’t flinch or pull away.  Her eyes drifted shut and a little moan escaped her as he went back for a second sip.  He skimmed across her lips lightly, back and forth, teasing the seam with the tip of his tongue.

The light touch of his tongue jolted her senses.  She pulled back, bracing herself with a hand on his chest and looking up into his face once more.  The warmth in his eyes had turned fiery and the undeniable desire on his face had her swallowing hard.  It had been a long time since she’d had a man look at her like that.  She lowered her gaze, nibbling on her bottom lip before returning her eyes to his.  Could she give him what he wanted?

The fingers cupping her cheek tightened slightly and tilted her head just a little more.  Brown eyes searched her face looking for signs of distress.  He found confusion and desire sparring with each other in her witchy sea green ones.  “Nothing’s going to happen unless you want it to.”

Her nod was nearly imperceptible, but it gave him the permission he was looking for.  His mouth slanted over hers, the gentleness gone, passion and desire taking over.  Her lips parted beneath his and, finally, he got his first real taste of her.  His hand slid from her cheek to her nape, holding her there as his mouth moved over hers.

Her hand slid from his chest to his shoulder as he pulled her closer.  Pressed against him she could feel his heart pounding against hers, the beat as erratic as her own.  His taste flooded her, his lips stole her senses and she angled her head to give his exploring mouth easier access.  

He traveled from her luscious mouth down her long, lovely neck, sipping and nipping as he went, savoring every soft, breathy sound he pulled from her.  He traced a tiny circle in the hollow at the base of her throat, slid across, pushing at the sweatshirt she wore, baring her shoulder.  Her skin was smooth under his lips; soft as silk and sweet as the scent she wore.

Bringing his mouth back to hers, he eased her back, laying her down on the sofa.  His eyes never leaving hers, he unzipped her sweatshirt and slid his fingers along her waist, the tips just sneaking under the hem of her tank top, skimming along her soft, soft skin.

Her breath still ragged from his kiss, she tried to calm her heart as she lay beneath his heated gaze.  When he touched her, her breath caught in her throat.  No man but Mark had ever touched her like this.  No man other than Mark had ever made her feel like this.  Her fingers closed over his as they slid higher on her side.

“Wait” she whispered.

His lips found hers again. “Wait for what sweetheart?”  His voice was rough with need and his fingers continued to try to move over her.

She gripped them tighter, trying to get him to stop.  “Rich, stop.”

His eyes opened and found hers.  “What is it?”

She closed her eyes and sucked in a ragged breath.  “I can’t Rich, please.”  Please understand, she thought.  Please understand.  I’m not a tease, really.

Drawing in a breath of his own he removed his hand and sat back on the sofa.  He rubbed his hand over his face.  This hadn’t happened to him since he was a young teenager.  “What’s going on?”

Sitting up, Stephanie pushed at her hair and righted her sweatshirt.  “I’m sorry.  I thought I could do this.”  She looked over at him, “maybe you should just take me home.”  She dropped her head, letting her hair drape across the side of her face.  She was near tears and didn’t want to break down in front of him.

Reaching over he took her hand.  He had an idea of what the problem was and now that he was able to think with the correct head, he was actually surprised he had gotten as far as he had.  Now, he just needed to get her to talk to him.  “How long were you married?”

“Twenty years.  We started dating when we were 16.”  Turning her head she peered at him through her hair.  “I’ve never been with anyone other than Mark.”

He nodded his head in understanding.  That’s what he figured the issue was.  Tugging on her hand he pulled her closer to him.  “It’s all right sweetheart.  When you’re ready, we’ll try again.”

Surprised colored her features.  “You’re not mad?”

He shook his head, “no.  Now, if you tell me I can’t kiss you again, then I might get upset.  But I can wait until you’re ready for more.”  His gaze roamed over her before settling once again on her face.  “I have a feeling it will be worth the wait.”  He watched the blush creep up her face and found it endearing.  It had been a lot of years since he had seen a woman blush.

“Now, how about we watch the end of the movie and then we can eat whatever it is that’s simmering away in that crock pot of yours?”

Chapter Twelve

Standing in the doorway Stephanie looked to the enormous SUV parked in her driveway and then back at Richie.  “We’re going to get soaked just going out there to your car.”  The rain hadn’t let up at all.  It was coming down so hard she could barely see across the street.

He nudged her out the door, “better wet now and warm later.  Go on,” he pushed a button on his key fob, “it’s unlocked.”

Pulling the door closed behind them she dashed to the car and vaulted into the passenger seat, laughing when Richie climbed in and slammed his door.  “Damn, this rain is out of control.”

He looked over at her; the shoulders of her sweatshirt were dark and wet and drops of rain glistened in her hair and rained down onto the seat as she shook her head.  Reaching over, one long finger traced a raindrop as is slid down from her temple to her chin.  When she didn’t flinch or turn away, he hooked his finger under her chin and tilted her head as he leaned in.  His lips brushed hers ever so gently before he straightened and started the car. “I can’t remember the last time it rained like this.”

She was quiet as he backed out of the driveway and headed down the street.  The rapid slap-wipe of the windshield wipers was the only sound in the car other than the drumming of her heart that was beating as fast and hard as the rain on the roof.  She hadn’t been kissed, or touched by a man for that matter, in nearly two years.  She had been so sure she didn’t want to be with a man other than Mark that she hadn’t even entertained the idea.  But now, with that one barely there touch of his pillowy soft lips, she was beginning to rethink that idea.

Tentatively, she reached her hand across the wide leather bench, her fingers curling over his pinkie and ring finger where they rested on the seat.  Out of the corner of her eye she saw his mouth curve in a slight smile.  “Do you mind if I turn on the radio?”

He stopped for a red light.  “Go ahead.”  He’d be damned if he was going to move his hand even a second before he absolutely had to.  She was starting to come around and he didn’t want to do anything to discourage her.

With Eric Clapton’s wailing guitar filling in around their conversation, the slow arduous ride was over before they knew it.  Stephanie couldn’t hold back the gasp as he rolled up to the gate and punched in his code.  “Holy…”

He looked over at her.  “What’s wrong?”

She could only stare as they drew closer to the house before a line from one of her favorite musical movies tumbled past her lips.  “Is this the train station?  Are we taking a train?”  His house was enormous.  Taking in the sprawling Mediterranean-influenced structure, she felt a little intimidated.  She had seen pictures on the internet after word had gotten out that he was moving, but it was nothing compared to seeing it live and in person.

He had to laugh at her Annie reference.  “No, we’re not taking a train.  This is just my house darlin’.”  He followed the driveway around the curve to the garage where he reached up to the visor and pushed the button to open the door.

She whistled low at the Ferrari that was parked next to the silver Aston Martin.  “Nice car.”

Reluctantly, he pulled his fingers from hers and parked the hummer.  “Thanks.  Maybe next week we can wash that one.”

She smiled, “maybe, if we don’t get washed away with all this rain.”

He got out and grabbed her crock pot from the floor in the backseat.  “Come on, I’ll give you the fifty cent tour and then you can tell me what’s in this pot.”

“Does the tour come with a map?  I’m liable to get lost if left on my own.” 

He just smiled and shook his head as he headed toward the door.  She was something else.  He kind of liked it. 

She followed him in the door and into what she presumed was the mudroom.  She did as he and took off her shoes, following along the hallway that opened up to the largest kitchen she had ever set foot in.  The honeyed cabinets went on for miles, the lower cupboards topped with black marble counters and appliances that were artfully camouflaged by the same wood tone as the cupboards.  It was the most amazing kitchen she had ever seen.

He set her crockpot down on a counter and it looked lost there all by itself.  Plugging it in her turned to her.  “This is the kitchen.”

Her fingertips grazed the cool marble countertop as she moved toward him.  “Really?  Never would have guessed.”

He snorted out a laugh and reached for her hand, she was making him itchy the way she was just about caressing his counters.  “Come on smart ass; let me show you the rest.”

They wended their way through 10,000 square feet of house and Stephanie was in awe.  The sitting/living rooms were large and open with daylight flooding the space.  She recognized the room with the gleaming piano from the pictures she had seen of him and Ava.  The double staircase was like something out of a movie and the bedrooms were spacious and inviting.   When he showed her the bathroom she had to laugh.  “Is this the infamous bathroom where you and Jon wrote This is Love This is Life?

Smiling and shaking his head he led her back downstairs and into the game room.  He kept forgetting she was a fan.  She had never really come right out and admitted it, but he knew just the same.  “Yes that’s the one.”  He turned and watched her roam the room.  “Wanna watch a movie?”  He opened the doors of the large entertainment unit to reveal a 65 inch LED/LCD television and indicated to the shelves that were on the far wall.  “Take your pick.” He had a media room as well, but Ava used that for her and her friends and it was more comfortable in here anyway.

Stephanie’s fingers stilled on the deep green felt of his cherry pool table and looked up. “Wow… that’s a big television.”  She moved across the room to the shelves that housed more movies than she could count.  “In the mood for anything in particular?”

He shook his head and picked up a remote.  “Whatever you want is fine with me.  Do you like popcorn?”

She glance out the window, it was still raining; the perfect weather for an old black and white movie.  “How about this one?”  She handed him Casablanca.

Opening the case he put the movie in the player and pressed another button to start the movie.  “Great choice.  Now, let’s go get some popcorn.”

She followed him back to the kitchen, shivering slightly.  Her sweatshirt was still wet and it was making her cold. 

After putting the popcorn in the microwave, Richie turned and noticed her rubbing her hands up and down her arms.  “Are you cold, sweetheart?”

She nodded her head, “a little.  My sweatshirt is still wet.”

He gaze slid up to her shoulders, the shirt was still dark from their run to his car.  “I’m sorry darlin’.  Why don’t you go ahead and take it off and we’ll put it in the dryer.”

She shook her head, “that’s okay, I’ll be fine.”  She was only wearing a thin tank top under the sweatshirt. 

He reached over to the hem and started to tug slightly.  “Come on, you don’t want to catch a cold do you?  I’m sure I’ve got something you could put on until yours is dry.”

She let her fingers close over his.  What would be the harm in just borrowing a dry shirt?  Before she could think too hard about it, she let him raise the shirt up and over her head.  She flipped her still damp hair back and crossed her arms over her chest. 

Richie’s eyes widened and dilated as he caught a glimpse of a creamy, flat tummy as her shirt slid up. Her clothes had been hiding a slimmer, tighter body than he had imagined.  Her arms were nicely toned and her legs looked a mile long in those slim fitting yoga style pants.

“Rich?”  She was starting to feel slightly self conscious under his long perusal of her.  She knew she was no Hollywood starlet, but she didn’t think she looked too bad.

He cleared his throat and moved across the room toward the back hallway.  “Sorry, I’ll be right back.  Can you check the popcorn?”  He headed toward the laundry room, desperately trying to get his body under control.  He hadn’t expected to have such a reaction to seeing her like that. 

Grabbing her one of his sweatshirts he took a breath and headed back to the kitchen.  Stephanie was standing by the sink, popcorn bag in hand.  “Need a bowl?”

~

Settling themselves on the wide leather sofa, Stephanie set the popcorn between them and Richie put his feet up on the oversized ottoman and started the movie.  “I don’t bite you know.”  Stephanie had tucked herself into the corner at the other end of the sofa from him.

She eyed him carefully.  He had grabbed the popcorn bowl and had it in his lap.  Unwinding her legs, she slid down the sofa until she was next to him and she reached into the popcorn bowl.  “I think we’ve had that ‘you don’t bite’ conversation before.”

He chuckled around a mouthful of popcorn as he remembered their conversation from the first time they had met.  His fingers found hers in the bowl and he brought them to his mouth.  “I nibble darlin’.”  He demonstrated, his teeth grazing her fingertips every so lightly.  “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

Her gaze went from her fingers and his lips up to his eyes.  Her voice was a little shaky and breathy when she finally spoke.  “Maybe you should just start the movie.”