Chapter 31

The sweet kiss rocked him to the core. It wasn’t going to be the last time he saw her, that was for damn sure, but for now, it was her friend that was hurting. If he tried to push her now, well…he’d done enough negotiating in his 25 years to know when to back down a little. "Yeah, you too, Dr. Kate."

He watched as Kate walked over and slid into the driver’s seat of the red mustang, pausing to talk to Elena before pulling into traffic. He swung a 180, his thoughts tumbling like dice onto each other. His original stand on Elena had labeled her a groupie, but after seeing both of their reactions he wasn’t sure that was still the case. Women came and went through their lives. The road was hard on a relationship under good terms, but the shit both he and Richie had stepped in was going to take a long time to get off.

Jon pulled into the driveway the car straighter than it had been parked last night and shut the motor off. Taking a deep breath he slid from the car and walked up to the apartment. Opening the door he tossed the keys on the counter and sing songed "HONEYYYYYYY IM HOMEEEEEEE!"

Richie just grunted as he walked by him and slammed the door to his room. Yeah, he’d definitely misread the night before. Something about those women were going to haunt them for a long time.

~


Richie dropped the towel that hung at his waist, grabbing whatever was on top in his drawer. A shower usually cleared out his brain, but that hadn't worked. It only strengthened the pounding headache he’d picked up after his conversation with Elena. Leaving the top snap open on his jeans he dropped on the bed to sleep his way into the handful of aspirin he'd swallowed. His cheek hit the soft cotton of a shirt instead of his pillowcase. Turning to see the black and white photo of Jon Lennon, he hurled it across the room.

Slamming his eyes shut he could see her soft, little body lost in his shirt, her dark, glorious hair tumbling over her shoulders, hiding the graphic shot of his idol. "Fuck," his eyes snapped open, the pulsing response in his dick to that image didn't help at all. He scrubbed his hands over his face and flipped over, pressing his hard on into the mattress, hoping for some relief. For fuck’s sake, he’d balled her—no it hadn’t been balling. It had been different. Everything about her had been different as soon as he’d touched her. Tugging the pillow over his head, he pushed her out of his head.

Her soft, soapy, clean scent and the night of sex clung deep into his sheets. He stood and ripped off the sheets, tossing them into the corner of the room as far away from him as he could manage. The pillowcase sailed after the fitted sheet and top sheet and he buried his nose into the naked pillow. Even with the scent of her gone, the images remained.

Sleep would help. Maybe if he could sleep away the memory of her, he’d get his fucking head back on straight. He lay face down across the bed, torn down to just the mattress, and stared at the floor until the shadows started to make shapes. The shapes plotted against him, he thought darkly. The ruffled edge of a bra peeked from the stack of clothes on his chair.

It was probably someone else’s. Elena hadn't been the first woman in his room and likely wouldn't be the last. But the small triangle of filmy lace and the tiny straps wouldn't be denied. He stood up and lifted the barely there confection of womanly silk and fantasy inducing black lace and groaned. He could smell her on it, that simple bar soap he would forever associate with her as his cock jumped like a fucking dog.

He held his hand over the basket in his room, but something wouldn't let him toss it.

A pounding fist rattled his door. "Rise and shine my man, time to get a move on!"

His fingers gripped the bra and stuffed it under the pile of clothes. "Fuck," he said again and grabbed a shirt, tugging it on as he opened the door. He’d forgotten all about the photo shoot they had scheduled. It wasn’t like they ever had a real day off. Just because they weren’t on stage, didn’t mean Doc didn’t have something planned for them. He swung the door open. "Yeah, yeah. I'm ready."

Jon’s eyebrow quirked, "You don’t look ready, bro, you look like shit."

"Good thing those people at the studio are magic with makeup," he said and pushed by him.

"Ain’t no make-up can fix what's got you torque, buddy. She was just some chick, you’ll forget her." Jon needled.

His chin went up as he looked down his nose at Jon. "Watch it, Jonny. I'm in no mood for your brand of humor."

Jon's brow arched, "Who’s being funny jackass? You’ve been fucking your way across the country, not like she was any different.” He watched Richie’s eyes darken. “Right?”

Not answering him, Richie stepped into black leather boots and grabbed his fringe jacket. "I'll wait for you in the car." He grabbed his keys and clomped down the stairs, needing air. Jon didn't know what the fuck he was talking about. He pulled a crumpled pack of cigs out of his jacket and lit one, dragging the nicotine deep into his system. She wasn’t supposed to be different. Hell, different was all sorts of complicated right now.

Jon slammed out of their apartment building, a similar leather jacket but more tailored filled out his skinny little shoulders. He knew Jon hated his small stature and did anything to push the focus away from his slim build. "Photo shoot should be interesting,” he grinned, “lots of girls there to look at."

Richie blew smoke out the window and cranked the radio. "Great," he said with false cheer. Maybe a bunch of willing girls was just what he needed to banish her from his head.

Jon leaned his head back, slipping shades over his eyes. "It’s a perk of the job, man.”

"What the hell is up with you? Did you hit the bottle already?" He gunned the engine and shifted smoothly as he headed into the city. The only time Jon was a motormouth like this was when he’d tied one on. He glanced at Jon’s obviously sober as shit face and shook his head. "I need fucking coffee," he said as they pulled onto the main drag and spotted a Dunkin' Donuts. "You want?"

Jon grinned, "Sounds good man." His eyes gleamed, yep, throw him off center, keep him off balance.

Richie climbed out. "You stay here, I can't deal with the shrieks when they realize who you are.” When he just shrugged, Richie headed inside and ordered their regular shit and added a chocolate glazed to his order. When he turned around he spotted a tiny brunette from the back and his gut tightened. When she turned around, he bit back a litany of four letter words and kicked open the door with his boot. She didn't even look like Elena for fuck's sake.

"Here," he said and handed Jon his coffee through the window before he rounded the car and chomped through his donut.

Jon blew on the coffee quietly before sipping. "Thanks."

Richie's eyebrow rose. "What? No retort, no comment?” he asked, forcing his shoulders to relax and his chest to ease. He was not going to go postal about some one night stand. He just wasn't.

Jon continued to sip his coffee, "So, what d’you think they'll want for the shoot man?"

"To tease your hair until you're as tall as me," he said and shifted into traffic.

Jon snorted. “Fuck you.”

"Hey, I'm not the one with heels on my boots."

Before Jon could throw another insult at him, Richie climbed out of the car when he spotted their keyboardist. "Hey, Dave," Richie gave him a quick, hard hug. "Enjoying your week off?"

Dave nodded. "I was until I had to come here and waste an afternoon."

Jon rounded the car and nodded to the guys. "Dave, Teek sorry for the last minute call on this shoot.” Jon slung an arm around Tico. “So where’s the makeup tent and the photographer?"

Tico grinned around his ever present smoke as Alec rushed around to get in the middle of all of them. "So where are the chicks, man?" he asked.

Richie turned the lot of them around and pushed Alec forward from the back of his head. "Onward, gigolos...er, men. The women must be over here. I hear giggling."

Jon walked to the area set up for makeup and prayed that at least one of the gigglers was a tiny brunette. "So guys, enjoying your time off?"

Tico nodded, "I played a round of golf every day, I'm doin' just fine."

"Somehow I knew you'd say that." Jon grinned as he eyed what he was looking for. "Excuse me a moment, you guys go get ready."

Richie forced Elena out of his head and focused on his brothers. They were the only thing that got him through the rough times. Propping his forearm on Tico’s shoulder, he grinned. "So, tell me you found something else to do besides sink a little ball in a hole," he laughed. "Unless.."

"No little balls here," Teek laughed and lit up another cig.

Jon returned, half smoked cigarette in hand. "Ok who’s up first?"

"What they want our picture too?" Dave quipped.

"Of course they want mine," Alec said and puffed up his chest. "All the girlies want some of this."

"Yeah strange rumor is that a few girls actually like the rest of you. I cannot figure out why, but there ya have it." Jon smirked..

Richie pushed Dave ahead. "You need the most work, frizz head."

"Hey, no fucking with the curls man, chicks dig 'em," David crowed. "Leave 'em be."

"Lying to yourself is one of your many talents," Richie said with almost a straight face.

"Children, please," Alec said and peacock strutted his way into the tent. "Allow me."

“Hiiiiii guys," came a breathy voice from the left. When all the guys turned toward her, the girl put an extra twitch in her step.

"Hello, honey!" Davie said with a big grin.

Big brown doe eyes artfully done up with mascara batted towards Dave a little smile on her burgundy slick lips. "Hi," but he was soon forgotten as her eyes locked onto Richie.

Richie's signature smile split his face. She was cute enough, he thought and let his dimple wink for added measure.

A fine eyebrow arched as she sashayed over. "Well hello there, tall dark and handsome."

The words echoed in his brain and his grin faltered. "Hiya, darlin'," he said automatically and winced in his head. Well fuck.

A soft giggle escaped her as she pressed closer to him. He was pretty sure her breasts were fake, making him think of Elena’s soft, gentle curves. "I hear you like a good time,” calculating eyes met his before she slid her tongue across her lower lip. “I’m allll for a good time, cutie."

Richie's shoulders went square as he moved over a bit. "You did, huh? You might be thinking of the wrong dark and handsome," he pointed to Alec sitting in the make-up chair. "He likes a good time."

The small brunette went back to him like a magnet. "No cutie, I hear it’s you. The really tall, dark drink of water.” She tapped the slice of flesh that peeked from the button down shirt he wore, open at the chest. “I bet you like a good time.” Dark, flat brown eyes went calculating as she smoothed her fingertip over his chest. Richie’s skin went to ice. He was used to women throwing themselves at him and he was usually quick to reciprocate, but her touch left him indifferent. “I can give it, really." She slid her hands up his chest. "You should try me. I'll do anything."

"Whoa ho," Dave laughed. "Maybe we should leave the King and his new minion alone, here."

Richie glanced over at him. "No really, you shouldn't." He forced a smile and tugged her arms from around his neck. "I'm sure that would be fun, darlin'."

She shimmied up against him, her hips squirming against him, "Sure why don’t you guys leave us be just a few minutes. I'll make him alll happy."

A little lost and feeling slightly side of beef like, he took a step back. "I'm sure you could make me as happy as can be, darlin' but I've got some work to do."

"Aww come on cutie pie, you only have to take a picture or two." She batted overly made up eyes his way.

The word cutie kept eating at him as he grabbed both of her wrists in one long fingered hand, yanking them away from his neck. "I'm flattered, darlin'," his gut roiled when her eyes went hot with lust as his pressure increased when she tried to cling again. "But I'm not interested, really."

"Awww, well it’s your loss, Gorgeous." She blew him a kiss and wandered over to Alec. His stomach nearly heaved as she started with the same schtic on his bandmate. And as much as he loved Alec, he didn't like how he treated women in general. Alec had his tongue down her throat in a second and a proprietary hand on her ass, pushing the make-up artist aside.

Dave walked over to Richie and put a hand to his forehead. "Nope, no fever."

Richie leaned back. "Hey, fuck off."

"But, dude, you've never turned a groupie down before,” he said honestly puzzled. “Man you gotta be sick with something." David grinned , "But no fever, so hmm."

"Christ I'm not some man-whore," he said and stalked over to the tent that boasted cold drinks.

"Since when?" David called after him. "King of Swing?"

Richie looked in the coolers.

"Can I help you sir?"

He turned around to the soft sound of a woman's voice and bit back a groan. Another fucking tiny brunette. "Tell me you have beer."

"Certainly," she beamed and popped the top of a bottle of Corona. "We were told you liked this brand."

Richie sighed. "Thank God," he saluted her and moved back to his crew.