Chapter Fifty-Eight

Stephanie was sitting on the couch, typing away on her laptop when Richie finally decided to grace the day with his presence.  He dropped down next to her, nuzzling into her neck.  “Good morning.”

She glanced down at the clock on the corner of her screen before turning and pressing a smiling kiss to his lips.  “I think you mean good afternoon.”

He nipped her lip.  “Smart ass.”  He glanced at her computer screen.  Thinking she had just been messing around on the web, he was surprised to see what looked like actual work staring back at him.  “What’re you doing?”

She pressed a few buttons, saving her work before closing the computer and setting it aside.  “Just finishing up a report for my boss.”   She stood and moved toward the window. She wanted to talk to him, needed to talk to him, but how did one start a conversation like this?  She stared out the window, the sky was an endless blue and sun shone brightly. Maybe they could take a walk and she would be able to find the words to have this discussion with him.

She turned and was brought up short, he was standing right behind her.  Damn she hadn’t even heard him move.  “Whoa.”

He steadied her with his hands on her shoulders.  “What’s going on Sweetheart, you okay?”

She nodded and fiddled with the tie on her robe.  She had showered after her so-called workout but hadn't dressed yet.  “I know you just woke up, but could we maybe go for a walk?”

Something was up, he could see it in the way she was fidgeting and unease swirled her eyes closer to brown than green.  “Sure, let’s get dressed and we’ll go.”  He was curious to find out what exactly was troubling his girl.

~

Richie adjusted his ball cap and slipped his sunglasses on as they passed through the hotel doors.  Stephanie couldn’t help the smirk that crossed her lips.

“What?”  Richie asked as his hand found hers.

“Does Jon know you stole his disguise?”

Richie chuckled as they moved away from the hotel.   "It's the standard rock star disguise. It was issued to all of us, not just Jon."

She laughed and they continued to walk.  He drew her toward the first coffee shop they came upon, needing some caffeine and food.  They found a quiet corner table where they sipped their coffee.  A cinnamon bun nearly the size of her head sat on a plate between them, the icing dripping off the edge of the plate leaving a milky white puddle on the table. Richie set his thick, white mug on the table and reached across the wood expanse, covering her hand with his.  "Are you going to tell me what's going on with you today, sweetheart?"

She sighed and met his gaze.  "I got offered a promotion and I'm not sure I want it."  She had decided to tackle the easier of the two topics to start with.

Long fingers stroked across the back of her wrist.  “I thought you liked your job.  Why wouldn’t you want the promotion?”  He wasn’t one hundred percent sure what she did, exactly, but he knew she wasn’t unhappy at her job.  At least he thought so.  She had never complained to him about it at any rate.

She watched his fingers move back and forth across her skin, felt the heat of his touch all the way up her arm.  “I do like my job, but I’m not sure I want all that this promotion entails.”  She had thought more about the duties of the position and it sounded more and more like the job she had had before Mark and Ben had died.  She wasn’t sure she wanted all that responsibility again.

He picked up his mug and tipped his head back, swallowing the last of his coffee.  “What all does this new position entail?”  He set his mug back on the table and met her gaze with his.

Stephanie reached over and picked up the insulated carafe the waitress had left and filled his mug again.  “A lot more administrative duties than I have now.  Answering the phones, scheduling appointments, all the things I left behind when I left New York.”  And, if she was being honest, she was secretly hoping she wouldn’t have to do again.

Richie didn’t say anything for a long moment.  They hadn’t ever really talked about her life back in New York.  She talked about Mark and Ben, but not herself.  “Tell me about who you were back in New York.”

She stared at him blankly, taken by surprise at his request.  “You already know about that part of my life.”

He shook his head.  “I know about Mark and Ben.  Not about you though, not really.”  He lifted his hand from hers and held his palm up, silently inviting her to lace her fingers with his.  “I want to know about who you were.”

With her fingers entwined with his she told him about herself.  About being a wife and a mother, about her job, about her family, her friends, both the jovi ones and the non-jovi ones, the concerts, working with habitat for humanity, her love of books that led her to the job here.

He watched her carefully as she talked.  Her eyes were so expressive.  Every emotion sparked a slight change in color to the kaleidoscope, brown and green warring for the lead.

When she stopped talking she picked at the cinnamon roll, waiting for him to say something.

He waited for her to look up at him.  “Why would you work at a job for so long if you weren’t happy doing it?”

She gave a slight shrug.  “I wasn’t necessarily unhappy, it just got to be more of a chore after a while.  But, bills needed to be paid, we needed to eat.”  She shrugged again. She just did what she needed to do.  And it wasn’t just her.  Mark did his share too.

Richie nodded.  He could understand having to do whatever it took to take care of your family.  It was how he was raised.  His mom and dad had both worked, his dad harder than most he knew.  But, she had resources now, why should she be stuck doing a job she wasn’t passionate about?

He watched her pick at the cinnamon roll again.  “You know, you really lit up when you were talking about working with Habitat.”  At her quizzical look he continued.  “You enjoy that right?”  She nodded.  “So why don’t you focus on that and quit your job?  You don’t need the paycheck, right?”

Stephanie wiped her hands on her napkin.  She hadn’t considered that.  She could give up her job to someone that really needs the paycheck and just volunteer with Habitat.  Why not?  An idea started to take root.  She’d have to make some phone calls when she got back on Monday.  A smile crept across her face.  “That’s something I hadn’t even thought of, but you’re right.  Thanks for the idea.”  She squeezed his hand and her smile faded.  Now she had to tackle a much more important issue.

Her smile faded so fast, he wasn’t sure it had actually crossed her face.  There was more on his girl’s mind.  Richie dug into his pocket and dropped a couple of folded bills on the table.  “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

They walked quietly for a while, their linked hands swinging between them.  “What else is on your mind today, Sweetheart?”

Her gaze dropped to her shoes before drifting up to his face.  “You.”

Together they slowed at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change.  Richie scanned his brain, trying to figure out just what about him could be bothering her.  He couldn’t come up with anything he might have done to upset her, but with some women, you just had to look at them the wrong way and you were in trouble.  He cast a sidelong glance at Stephanie as they crossed the street.  She wasn’t that kind of woman.  She didn’t look like she was mad at him either.  So, what the hell did he do?

They walked back into the hotel and he guided her through the lobby and out the back toward the pool and patio.  It was unusually quiet for a sunny Vegas afternoon and they were able to score a secluded table without any hassle.  Keeping her hand in his he leaned across the table.  “What did I do that has you all tied up in knots today, Sweetheart?”

She squeezed his hand, hopefully reassuringly.  “It’s not anything you did.  Not really.”

His brow furrowed in concern and confusion.  If he hadn’t done anything, why did he have this feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach all of a sudden?  “Why don’t you just lay it out for me so I know where we’re headed here?”

Stephanie swallowed and took a breath.  “I’m worried about you.  You haven’t been yourself lately.  The phone conversations we’ve had over the last month I could hear it in your voice. And, you’ve been drinking.  A lot.”

Richie leaned back in his seat, keeping his fingers curled with hers.  He wanted to be mad at her for poking her nose in his business, but, he looked across the table at her.  He couldn’t do it.  The concern in her pretty eyes wouldn’t let him.  He should be thankful it was her and not Jon calling him on his behavior lately.

He shifted in his seat.  He had been spiraling and he knew it.  He had tried to hide it, thought he had done a good job of it, but apparently she had seen right through him.

“You’re right, sweetheart and I’m sorry I made you worry.  I could offer up a thousand excuses, but the truth is, falling back in the bottle was a lot easier than facing the stress of my situation.”

She gripped his fingers tighter.  “Don’t be sorry.  I lo-care about you, so I’m going to worry. Just like you worry about me.  It goes with the territory.  Just tell me you’re going to do something about it.”  Her eyes found his, “please?”  She knew it was hard to ask for help, but, she didn’t want him to end up back where he had been a few years ago.  She, and every other fan of his and the band had seen what he went through and she didn’t want him to put himself through that again.

His eyes widened at her near slip.  She loved him?  He caught her gaze.   She loved him.  He could see it there in her eyes.  So, he’d do this.  He would get himself the help he obviously needed and be the best Richie he could be for her.  He’d get clean, for both of them.   He contemplated his options.  He really only had one choice.  He’d have to talk to Jon first, but there was really only one way to do this and he would have to commit to the full 30 days.  Again.

He tugged her hand gently as he stood, pulling her up from her chair and into his embrace, pressing a kiss to her temple.  “Let’s go upstairs.  I need to talk to Jon.”

The elevator ride was quiet, each lost in their own thoughts.  When the doors opened on their floor, Stephanie followed him out and down the hall.  Richie stopped in front of Jon’s door, “I shouldn’t be long, sweetheart.”

She nodded and took a step toward their room down the hall, “okay.”  She fished her key out of her purse and looked up to find him watching her, an odd look on his face.  “Rich?"

He beckoned her back with a crook of his finger.  “C’mere.”  He wrapped her in his arms.  “You’re awfully quiet.”

She let her arms wander up and slide around his neck.  “Just thinking about things.”

He nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead.  “We’re okay, you know.  It’s all right that you called me on my shit.”  He watched the relief cross her face.  “Never be afraid to talk to me, sweetheart.  About anything.”

She smiled, relieved that she hadn't overstepped her bounds by cornering him about his drinking.  She lifted her mouth to his.  “Okay.”

He slid a hand up her side, brushing her hair back from her face.  “I love you.”  He felt her stiffen in his arms, but he didn’t let her go.  He didn’t expect to get a response, but he had to tell her.  And now seemed as good a time as any.  He was a patient man, he could wait for her to reciprocate.  She would, eventually.

She stared up at him, not sure what to say, not able to say anything really.  He loved her?  How?  Why?  She closed her eyes.  She wasn’t ready for this.  She opened her eyes again and stared blindly at his adam’s apple.  “I can’t-” she tried to pull away.  “I’m not-.”  She finally looked up at him, “please let me go.” 

He loosened his grip, his arms sliding from her waist, and took her hands instead.  “I know you can’t or won’t say the words back to me, sweetheart.  But I needed to tell you where I’m at.” 

She didn’t say anything.

“It’s okay, go on into our room and get ready to go.  We’ll be heading over to MGM soon.”  He leaned down and kissed her cheek before he knocked on Jon’ s door.  “It’s okay” he whispered again.

Behind them the door opened.  “What do you two want?”

Stephanie fled to their room and Richie turned to Jon.  “I need to talk to you, man.”

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Richie let Stephanie into the hotel room ahead of him, closing the door quietly behind them. Before she could take more than a step, he grasped her arm, tugging her back to him as he leaned back against the door.  His mouth wasn’t gentle as it came down on hers.  Nipping her lower lip, he sank into her, kissing her voraciously.  He’d been on a slow burn ever since she’d walked out in that damn short dress and a pair of killer boots.  He was a sucker for the boots.

Sliding his hands up to her shoulders, he pushed at the jacket she still wore.  He followed the supple leather as it slid down her arms and landed on the floor with a soft plop.  

Pushing them away from the door, his hands slipped from her arms to her thighs, his fingers caressing her satiny, smooth skin lightly as he pushed at the hem of her dress.  He cupped her ass as they made their way further into the room.  Bumping into a chair, he pulled his mouth from hers.  

She was standing in a pool of moonlight with just a hint of the red and blue neon that lit up the strip haloing around her.  Her head dropped back and her rich brown hair tumbled over the back of the chair.  His eyes were drawn to the long line of her neck.  His mouth followed the path his eyes had blazed, pausing to suck where her pulse beat rapidly.  He couldn’t remember having a need so intense before.  He had wanted women before - he hadn’t been a saint since his divorce - but his need for this woman bordered on insatiable.

Her chest heaved with every breath she tried to take.  God, she hadn’t been ravished so long.  There had been moments with Mark early on, but they had grown few and far between after Ben had come along..  She shuddered, the thought forgotten as Richie’s mouth traveled down her neck before coming back to reclaim her mouth. Her legs wobbled as he pushed her dress higher, gripping her hips and pulling her flush against him, pressing his erection into her. She reached out to grab the back of the chair, praying that it didn’t move as she tried to steady herself against the onslaught of sensations that threatened to overwhelm her.

He searched blindly for the zipper on her dress.  As much as he liked it on her, he wanted it off of her.

Now.

When the pretty black dress was a puddle at her feet he pulled his mouth from hers.  Just as he opened his mouth to speak, she stopped him, splaying her fingers over his lips. “Don’t” she said. Pulling the trembling digits from his lips, she opened the buttons of his shirt, loosened his belt and the top button on his pants.  She didn’t want words right now. “Don’t talk.  Just go with whatever you’re feeling right now.”  She slowly lowered the zipper on his pants and looked up at him.  “Whatever you want.”

He searched her eyes for a long moment.  Without a word, his mouth came down on hers in a brief, torrid kiss.  Struggling for the gentleness he wasn’t feeling, slid her pretty black lace panties down her thighs. Turning her away from him, he bent her over the back of the chair.  The pearly wetness he could see in the silvery light was proof enough that she wanted this as much as he did.  Crouching behind her, he nipped up the backs of her thighs, spearing his tongue into her waiting wetness.  Deftly he brought her to the edge of ecstasy.  He stood quickly, she was ready to blow and he wanted to be balls deep in her when the eruption overwhelmed her.

Searching his pockets, he shoved his pants down and protected them both.  Grabbing her hips, he drove into her with one sharp thrust.  The relief he felt was so profound he couldn’t contain his groan of pleasure.  It echoed around them and mixed with hers.  She was perfect.  Fucking perfect.  

He pulled out and slid home again, she was nearly there.  He could feel her starting to tighten around him.  Leaning over her, he slid a hand around her to cup her still covered breast, pinching the taut tip through the lace.  He nipped her shoulder, “you’re right there sweetheart, let it go.”

Stephanie couldn’t hold back the groan when he palmed her over-sensitized breasts and pinched the straining nipple.  Bracing her hands on the arms of the chair she levered herself up just a bit, angling her hips back, taking every deliciously punishing thrust he was giving her.   His teeth on her shoulder and his words in her ear sent her spiraling.  With a scream she gave him what he asked for, nearly taking him with her.

He continued to pound in to her, his thrusts became erratic as his own release threatened.  He curled his hand around her hip, stroking along the seam of her thigh, then further, nudging that bit of pink flesh that was just begging for his attention. 

Stephanie shook her head, her grasp tightening on the arms of the chair.  Before she could catch her breath, she was coming again.  She pushed back against him, tightening around him, desperate for him to come with her.

With a resonating groan, he let himself go, pumping his hips until he had nothing left to give. 

Slumped over her, Richie skimmed his lips across her shoulder.  He should move, he was probably crushing her, but he couldn’t quite find the energy yet.  Sucking in a breath, he peeled himself from her back, her skin shown like porcelain in the moonlight, broken only by the slim black band of her bra.  He couldn’t help the smile.  It had been a long time since he’d felt the need to be with a woman that badly that he couldn’t even get her all the way naked.  He shuffled to the end table for a tissue and dropped it and the condom in the trash.  Turning back, he found her still bent over the chair. 

“Sweetheart?”  He pulled his pants up to his hips and moved back over to her.

She rose slowly, pushing her hair out of her face as she stood.  She grabbed the back of the chair.  Her legs were still trembling.  She looked down.  She still had her boots on.  And her underwear was around her knees.  “Holy shit, Rich.”

“I know, Sweetheart.”  He was just as surprised at himself as she was.

She sucked in a deep breath.  “We didn’t even manage to get all our clothes off.”

His lip twitched, fighting a smile, and he stepped closer to her, his hands sliding up her back to the catch of her bra.  “We can remedy that.” 

“I just bet we can” she murmured as her bra hit the floor and she was swept up into his arms.

~

Daylight teased her eyelids.  She tried to burrow deeper into the blankets and the warmth next to her, but her bladder had other ideas.  Squinting against the sun, she peeked at the clock and eased from the bed.  Taking care of business in the bathroom she slipped back into the bedroom.  She glanced at Richie.  He had rolled on his side and curled himself around her pillow. She’d leave him to sleep.  She stretched and wandered out to the living area, picking up their clothes as she went.  Her bra, her dress, his shirt, left a trail like bread crumbs so as not to get lost going from one room to the next. 

Carrying her armload of laundry, she set everything on the chair in the bedroom.  Richie still hadn’t moved.  She smiled gently.  Last night had been amazing.   She couldn’t remember sex being like that with Mark.  They had always had a healthy sex life, but it was nothing compared to what she had with Richie.  She pursed her lips.  That was the first thought of Mark she’d had in a week.  She frowned and reached for her suitcase and sneakers.  Her hand brushed by her laptop case, reminding her of work.  Her frown deepened.  She was supposed to be considering the promotion she had been offered.  She dug her work out clothes from her suitcase.  Maybe a few miles on the treadmill would help her figure things out.

Using her key card, she opened the door to the fitness center, closing it quickly before any of the fans lining the hallway could follow her.  Scanning the room she found every treadmill in use, save one.  She frowned at the man on the machine next to it and swallowed hard.  She was going to have to pound out her miles next to Jon. 

Figures.

At one time in the not so distant past she might have relished the idea of running into him like this.  Now, she really didn’t want him to see just how much of an amateur she was.  She crossed the room slowly, hoping he might finish up before she got started. 

She snuck a peek at his machine.  No such luck.  He was only a mile into his work out.

Without a word she stepped on the machine, fiddled with the settings and started to walk.  She was more walker than runner, she could bust out five miles in an hour, but that was on a good day.  She wasn’t feeling very lucky today.

“Hey.”  He smiled at her and turned his attention back to the news program on the big screen.

She turned her head slowly.  “Morning.”  Holy Hell.  She was going to have to send the girls an email with all the sweaty details of how he looked this morning.  TaraLeigh would never forgive her if she didn’t. 

She picked up her pace, wishing she had her iPod with her.   She hadn't ever been alone with him before, there had always been a buffer.  Now, one on one, he intimidated her. 

Next to her, Jon slowed to a walk.  “Thanks for driving last night.”

“No problem” she puffed out.  “Thanks for not puking in the back seat.”

He laughed.  “You told me I couldn’t.  That was one of your rules, remember?”

She slowed and smiled.  “I didn’t think you would anyway.  Self-professed wino and all.”

He stepped off the treadmill.  “You done?”

She looked down, she had managed two and a half miles so far.  “Yeah.  I guess.”  It was better than nothing.

“Come spot me.  I want to ask you something.”

 She watched him walk toward the weights. What choice did she have but to follow?

She stood up by his head as he lay back on the bench.  “How many?”

“Three sets of fifteen.”  He pushed up the bar and lowered it to his chest.  His biceps flexed as he pumped the bar up and down. 

“What did you want to ask me?”

He got through his first fifteen and paused.  “How’s Richie doing?”  He had watched the two of them last night and as smitten as his friend was with this woman, he was still drinking more than Jon was altogether comfortable with.

She thought about what she had found Friday morning when she let herself into his room.  Thought back to the conversations they had had over the last few weeks.  He said he was doing better, but was he?

“I’m not really sure.”  She told him about the nearly empty bottle she had seen Friday morning and the tone of their conversations.

He finished his reps and set the bar down.  “Thanks.  I think maybe it’s time for a band meeting.”

He stood, grabbing his towel and bottle of water and headed to the door.  Stephanie followed in his wake, catching up to him as he pressed the button for the elevator.  Standing together in the empty car Stephanie turned to him, “would you mind if I talked to him first?”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened on their floor.  “Let me know how it goes” he told her as he disappeared into his room.