Chapter Fifty-Four

The quiet murmur of the guitar floated into her dream.  The low timbre of his voice teased her toward wakefulness.  Sighing contentedly, she rolled to her back and just listened.  He could devastate with six or twelve strings as well as Jon could with his voice.  She loved to watch him on stage, but to hear him like this, just him and his acoustic, this was a priceless gift.    

Climbing out from under the covers, she stretched and wandered out to the living room. The dregs of his boy’s night in were nowhere to be seen.  Now, a wooden tray sat in the middle of the coffee table with a silver insulated coffee carafe and a porcelain cup alongside a pitcher of cream and a sugar bowl.  A spoon rested on a pristine white napkin.  Scanning further, she found him sitting on the floor, shirtless, his back against the end of the sofa, the guitar on his lap.  The sunlight streaming through the window teased out the red tones in his brown hair and cast a golden glow across his skin.  His eyes were closed and he was absently strumming and singing an old Chicago tune.

Take me as I am
Put your hand in mine now and forever
Darling here I stand, stand before you now
Deep inside I always knew
It was you, you and me
Two hearts drawn together bound by destiny
It was you and you for me
Every road leads to your door
Every step I take forever more

She crawled onto the couch, curling her legs under her, she tucked herself into the corner behind him, her knees rubbing against his shoulder.  She didn’t want to disturb him.  She kept quiet, hoping he would keep playing.

Just say you'll love me for the rest of your life
I gotta lot of love and I don't want to let go
Will you still love me for the rest of my life?
'Cause I can't go on
No, I can't go on
I can't go on
If I'm on my own

Something niggled as she sat and listened to him. Something he had said to her tickled the edges of her memory.  She closed her eyes as he continued to sing and the words came to her in a whisper of wonderment.  I love you.   Her eyes popped open.  Had he said the words earlier, when she was more asleep than awake and far from coherent enough to realize what he was saying?  Or had she really been asleep and dreamt it?  She shook her head, trying to remember. 

She felt a warm hand on her bare knee.  When had he stopped playing?  She looked to his left, the guitar was settled all the way in its case this time, the notebook closed and resting on top of the case.  When did he do that?  She had gotten so lost in her own musings, she hadn’t even noticed.  She covered his hand with hers.  “Hi.”

“C’mere.”  A gentle tug had her unfolding herself from the couch and straddling his thighs.  “Good morning sleepyhead.”  He pressed his lips to hers.  “Glad you’re here.”

She smiled softly at him.  “Me too.”  Her fingers drifted across his stubble-covered jaw, cupping his face.  Lifting gently she found his eyes with hers.  “Are you okay?”

He could see the concern still swirling in her eyes, the same concern he had seen there earlier when she had crawled into his bed.  How long had it been since someone cared enough about his well being to drop everything just to make sure he was okay?   He was always the one going out of his way to make sure others were taken care of.  It was nice to have someone do that for him for a change.  “I’m better than I was.”  He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand where it still cupped his cheek.  “Thank you for coming.  Even though I should be mad at you for driving here in the middle of the night.”  He hated to think of what could have happened to her driving all alone like that in the middle of the night.

Dropping her hand from his face, she braced it on his shoulder and scooted forward to straddle his lap, her knees bracketing his hips.  “What did you tell me once, ‘I worry about the people I care about?’”  At his nod she continued.  “Well, Richie, I care about you, a lot.  So I got in my car and here I am.”  She wasn’t going to worry about a little lost sleep.  Her fingers wandered up from his shoulder to tangle in his hair.  “Do you want me to go away and come back later?”  She bit her lip to keep from smiling.

His hands tightened where they rested on her hips.  “Nope.”  His lips met hers in a hard peck.  “You’re here now and you’re all mine.”  He covered her mouth with his, cutting off any reply she might have made.  His hands slid up under the hem of the t-shirt she wore slowly creeping up her sides, pushing at the shirt as he went.  The navy blue was emblazoned in white with Yankees and a Nike swish logo across the chest.  “Nice shirt.”

“Thanks.  I like it.”

He continued to push it up out of his way, baring her breasts as he went.  Looking up, she was pulling the shirt over her head, her arms still tangled inside.  “Leave it there.”

She glanced down at him, her arms still lost in the shirt.  This was new.  “Okay.”

Leaning forward, he traced circles around her right breast with his tongue, closing in on the rapidly hardening tip.  Sucking the hardened nub of her nipple into his mouth, he palmed her left breast, kneading gently.

With her hands still wrapped in the navy cotton, Stephanie could do little more than let him have his way.  Let him take what he so obviously needed.  Dropping her hands to rest on his head, she rolled her hips against him, looking for that little bit more that would give her the release her body was craving.

Letting her nipple go with an audible pop, Richie lifted her hands from his head and sat back, his hands stopping her hips from grinding against him.  He’d give her what she wanted, but in his own way.  In his own time.  His hands slid up from her hips to bracket her waist.  “Lay back, sweetheart.” 

Drawing her knees up from under her she leaned back, “a little help?” Without the use of her hands, she didn’t want to fall backward.

Shifting himself around, he helped ease her to her back on the floor.  His fingers wove a light pattern down her abdomen and around the lacy band of her panties.  Looking down he noticed they were plain, white cotton panties.  Very practical and not at all what he had expected, but yet he still found them quite sexy on her.  Hooking his fingers in the lacy band he dragged them slowly down her smooth thighs.  Her scent drew him back, his tongue lazily skimming up the inside of her thigh.  He looked up, found her watching him.  Her face was flushed and her eyes just a little wild.  “I hope you’re comfortable, sweetheart.”

She nodded, “I am.” 

He smiled wickedly.  “Good.  I’m gonna be here a while.” He dipped his head, his breath teasing the tiny bit of hair on her mound.

She dropped her head to the floor with a groan.  “Oh, God.”

~

“C’mon Sweetheart, the guys are going to be here any minute.”  Richie slipped the cross around his neck.  They had spend the better part of the day in bed and now they were going to head out to cruise the strip, lose more than a little money and have some dinner.  If she would ever come out of the bathroom.  He gave himself one last look in the mirror.  He looked better than he had, but still not quite himself.  But he was getting there.  He splashed on a little cologne and straightened his collar.  The bathroom door opened behind him and her scent had him turning from his reflection.

“I’m almost done.”  She had a flat iron in her hand and most of her hair was now pin straight.  Her face was carefully made up, her normally kaleidoscope eyes shown more green than brown from some magic make-up trick.  But she was still in her robe.

“You’re not even dressed yet.”  Not that he minded, the little, silky bit of pink stopped mid-thigh and she had some seriously great legs.   But his friends didn’t need to see her nearly naked when they got here. 

She ran the iron through the last bit of her still-curly hair.  “Just give me a few more minutes.”

He crossed the room and pressed his lips to her forehead as the pounding on his door started.  “You can have five, sweetheart.”

The raucous male voices in the other room spurred her on.  She quickly finished her hair and stepped into her dress.  The little black dress had been another lucky find at that shop near her office.  The wide v-neck was enhanced with embroidery and beads in a deep red that matched the design around the hem, a hem that ended about five inches above her knee.  Sitting on the side of the bed she drew on her crimson boots and topped the whole look with a short, black leather jacket.  Not too dressed up she thought as she looked in the mirror and added her “S” necklace, but just enough for Vegas.   She hoped.

She stepped into the other room and into the middle of a heated discussion about the car service and where they were going to eat.

“Hey!”  She spoke loud enough to be heard over the din.  Four heads turned in her direction, Hugh was conspicuously absent.  “I don’t care where you want to eat, but we can take my car.  I don’t mind playing chauffer tonight.”

Three of the four men moved across the room toward her.  Richie stayed rooted to his spot.  She looked amazing.  A short dress and a wicked pair of boots were going to be his death tonight.