Chapter 42

Elena's brow rose fractionally, "You never can tell Richie. They all have banisters." A sparkle was in her eyes as she spoke, "or chandeliers."

Stuffing down the need to reach over the table and haul her across it, he let his dimple flash. "Sweetheart, the only banister you need to worry about is mine."

Kate nearly bobbled the plate before she dumped the silverware in the sink. She so didn't need that image in her head right now. The teasing familiarity was there already. She hated him for hooking her in so fast.

"That banister is outta service for now Richie." Elena laughed softly.

Kate hunched her shoulders at the flirty voice. Elena was so blinded by the charm, she couldn’t see the pain coming up. That man was going to leave again. She jumped as a wall of warmth hovered behind her. She didn’t even have to look…her stupid, traitorous nipples knew.

Jon leaned in close his lips close to her ear. "Holding things back gives you ulcers Katy."

His voice was whisper soft but intense. Her body—stupid freakin’ body that it was—instantly wanted to lean back on him, to see if the warmth would follow. God, she was just like Elena. This man, this rockstar for the love of sweet Mary made her want for the first time in more years than she could count. She couldn’t think around him. What would it feel like to let him in?

"If you want to blast him do it. Ask what you need to ask. Don’t hold it in."

She turned her head and felt his lips brush her cheek before he leaned back enough that it was only his breath touching her. Her gaze drifted down to the bottom lip she remembered in bits and flashes. Was it really as silky soft as she remembered? Or was that just part of the fantasy she’d built? "If I blast him,” she swallowed and made herself meet his eyes, “Elena will stop smiling and she hasn't done that in two weeks," she whispered.

He brushed a curl away from her face. His body screamed to move in, to feel that skin again, but instinct kept him where he was. "Elena's a big girl Katy. Besides, there was that whole saving lives thing with the oath right?" He flicked the little caduceus at her neck with the tip of his finger, letting his touch linger for just a second longer than he should have.

"I could remove his balls with little more than a twinge of regret,” she said softly and laughed when Jon's hand covered the fly of his jeans automatically.

"That’s just cold, man." Jon grinned. The phantom pain that every man felt at the mention of harm to the jewels gave him a moment’s pause, as he shot a glance over his shoulder to Richie. He was never quite sure if she was kidding or not when she said shit like that.

She followed Jon’s eyes. Their heads were together, whispering softly as the teasing filtered over to the sink. She let her shoulder lean into Jon's chest. "Hard to stay mad at him, huh?"

"Something like that,” he smirked with a huff of a laugh. “Special talent of his, I think."


~


Elena stood and took her cup of coffee with her to the couch. Sitting down Indian style she watched Richie without saying a word. She knew Kate was unsure of the situation. She couldn’t help the worrying, it was who she was. She treated her more like a little sister sometimes. In her gruff manner, she was really the caretaker type.

Richie dropped onto the floor in front of her. It took a minute to fold his much longer, less limber legs into the folded position. "We have a few weeks of a break when I get back, then off to Holland for another one-off gig."

"One off?" Not quite able to stop herself, she played with the long ends of his hair.

"When we're drawing to the end of a leg of a tour, every once in awhile, we do a few special shows." He caught her fingers, burying them between his hands. He really couldn't take the teasing right now. "It’s a cool way to include countries or areas that don't always get a show.” He opened his hands, finding her smaller hand there. He brushed his knuckle over her soft skin, linking his fingers with hers slowly. “They tend to be weird dates because of all the red tape and hoops Jonny and Doc have to jump through."

"Those would be a bit harder to deal with I suppose." She glanced down at their palms, so different in size. And the way he was so very gentle with her. She had to remind herself—one more time—that she had to control herself. He just wasn't gonna get lucky again that easily no matter how badly she wanted him.

"Sometimes," he agreed. "But then again, a lot of the time those are the really memorable gigs because we can shake up the set list and pull out a few surprises. Our catalogue is still pretty small but we make up for it with some cover stuff that keeps people rockin'."

"Sounds like fun, but I bet it’s hard work too." She uncurled her legs and placed one on either side of him. "It’s hard to travel a lot though I bet…even if you do get to see a lot of neat places." She could feel his breath on her thighs.

"I wish we got to see the places. I know what every airport in every country looks like, but when we got to Paris last year I didn't even get to see the Eiffel Tower. Well…unless through the window of our bus, counts." The lure of her skin was too much to resist. He pressed a palm to each thigh, stroking her slowly. "We're still proving ourselves, you know?" It was hard to explain to people how much work it was. It sounded like a lot of play, but between traveling and sound check there was a lot of hurry up and wait shit that really got to a person after awhile.

She shivered at his simple touch as goose-pimples raced along the path his palm took. Swallowing hard, she willed herself to keep a normal tone of voice. "It’s probably harder work than most people realize. The one time I saw you both, it looked so effortless, but I know a lot practice went into that."

"Not so much practice for that kind of thing. We don't even realize what's going on outside our own little bubbles sometimes.”

His smile was infectious, making Elena’s heart tumble madly. The way his hands would talk with him in that Richie way. And every time he stopped, they would rest on her thighs making it harder for her to concentrate on the words. Focusing instead on the way his dark eyes sparkled when he got excited and the tug of those full lips when he laughed.

“But then suddenly we're playing Bad Name or Prayer and we feed off the frenzy of the crowd. That's what makes it worth it. That's what makes the travel and the interviews and the asinine bus rides worth it." He laced his fingers through hers and tried to ignore the soft skin of her calves resting on his jeans. One brush of his fingertips and he'd have her pinned to the couch in less than a heartbeat.

A soft groan escaped when his warm fingers wrapped around her thighs again. "I can't pretend to understand how it feels, unless it’s equal to getting a damn good grade on a paper you worked hard on. But somehow I don’t think even that equates to the look I saw on your face when you played that night." Wanting to feel more than his hand, was an inescapable fact, but she'd set the ground rules. She'd have to stick too them no matter how hard it was.


~


Kate watched from across the room as they talked quietly. The innocent touches and the way their eyes locked, never wavering, left an immediate and rather heavy sense of intimacy in the air. Their connection was palpable in a way that had her stomping down the green monster and tripping over a bone deep fear at the same time. The life Richie and Jon had chosen was not for the soft and the sweet like Elena could be. She had a steel spine under all her mush when it was warranted, but watching her dissolve after only a night with Richie left her nervy.

She could feel Jon staring at her, reading too much with his far too clever eyes. "Stop it," she ordered quietly.

Jon's brow arched, then followed hers to the duo on the couch. The emotions on her face were hard to read, but there was a bit of that longing in her eyes that he was always looking for. The human aspect of her that urged him to keep on plugging. "Gets to you doesn't it?"

She nibbled on her lower lip. "I don't want her hurt."

His moved into her under the guise of keeping their conversation quiet, happy to draw in that zesty cinnamon of her skin. "Then tell him that. He’s a big pussy cat for all his size."

Tamping down a shiver she shifted away from him until his fingers circled her forearm. She glanced away from his crystal bright eyes to the diamond JB on his ring finger. "Quit pushing, Jon." She hadn't meant to say that, but his touch distracted and flustered her. "I'll talk to Elena when you guys leave."

He slid his hand down and grasped her fingers in his and pulled her toward the living room. "It’s not Elena you need to talk to Katy."

"Would you rather taste the wrath of my scalpel, Sugar?" she asked heavy on the cream.

She liked to use threats when she was feeling cornered. It had taken him a few tries, but he was learning. Such a prickly little thing on the outside. "I never took you as the type to be afraid to face anything Katy. Besides, your scalpel doesn't scare me. I’m a pretty good runner."

"Good thing those chicken legs are good for something," she said and headed for the couch. "Break it up you two, there are sprinklers above you that don't need a test run."

Elena tilted her head up. "We were just talking, Katydid."

"Uh huh, and I'm a Boston Philharmonic maestro." She flopped next to Elena. Leaning her head on Elena’s shoulder she sighed out. "I'm going to have to hit my cave soon."

Elena's brow arched. She didn’t exactly need her friend to kick out her man…she’d just found him again. But after a look at Kate’s hollow eyes and the dark circles. "Rough night at the ER?"

"Rough shift to say the least, but I do have to do it all over again about," she glanced at the slim silver watch she always wore. "In about twenty hours,” she propped her elbow on Elena’s shoulder. “Some of that has to be sleep."

Elena nodded, "I'll…well, we'll be quiet.” She looked down at Richie, then up to Jon. “Won't we boys?"

"I wish we could stay longer, but we've got to head out. It's a long flight even with the private jet we've got access to." Richie said and let himself slide his hand over her ankle slipping up to cup her calf.

A shiver again raced through her making her body betray her yet again. Glancing at Jon a moment she wondered how she'd be able to reach him while he was gone. "That time already?" She smiled reassuringly, or what she hoped looked reassuring.

Jon glanced over at Kate, "Um, Katy can I speak to you for a minute? Like over here or something?"

Richie saw a slice of the sadness creep back into her eyes. "Well if someone would give me an actual phone number I could call them," He said, giving Jon a grateful smile.

Kate didn't bother to hide her sigh of disgust. "All right, all right, I don't need to be smacked over the head with the obvious stick, people." She held out her hand to Jon. "Help me up, Sugar."

Chapter 41

"Aye, aye Captain." At her baleful look, he snorted. She really was something else. "Hey bro, time to get up." Getting no response he walked to the door and tried again. "Richie, come on man. GET UP!"

"Does he always sleep like the dead?" Kate called from the kitchenette.

Jon laughed. "Pretty much." He shook his head and pitched his voice a bit louder. "Richard Sambora! RISE and SHINE MAN!"

"Do you hear an annoying voice?" Richie mumbled into Elena's hair.

She snuggled closer to the heat, her lips finding the smoothness of his chest. "Mmmm no, just a pesky whiny mosquito I think. Wanna smash it for me?"

"Don't tempt me," he said with a half laugh, half moan as her hip brushed against his morning erection.

Jon sighed. It looked like he might be up, but the two of them looked to be barely stirring. "GET THE FUCK outta bed, dude!" He turned back towards Kate. "Fucking bucket of ice might work," he muttered.

Kate opened the freezer. He was probably kidding, but it was too delicious a thought not to extend at least the option. "I have ice."

Jon grinned. "Bring it here Katy. This is gonna take more than my voice to do the trick."

She tugged the automatic ice-maker's bucket out and handed it to him. "Here you go, Sugar."

Jon ran back to the room, when Richie’s head lifted he tossed the first handful of ice. "It’s—Time—To—Get—Up!" He punctuated each word with a half dozen cubes each.

As the ice cubes pelted him, he rolled from the bed, dragging Elena up with him. "Fuck! Enough!" he said and shook a stray cube out of his shirt. He held up a hand as three more cubes came at him. "Cut it out!"

"I hate to interrupt your beauty sleep, but we have a plane to catch in a few hours. Thought you might want to spend that time conscious with your lady." Jon felt Kate at his back, handing the bucket back to her with a grin over his shoulder. "Works like a charm every time."

Kate snagged a few cubes and tucked them down his jeans. "Doesn't it just?"

"Kate!" Jon tugged at his zipper, reaching around to dislodge it, forcing it to go down the back of his thigh. “FUCK!” He headed for the bathroom. "You'll pay for that one, Katy!"

She snorted as the bathroom door opened and an ice cube skittered across the linoleum, followed by Jon’s booted heel. "Yeah, Yeah...just drink up," she said and placed the pot of coffee on the table. "Anyone want breakfast?" she called, hoping she could stay civil to Richie. Knowing that if her hands were doing something, she had a better chance of keeping her mouth shut she started gathering things from the fridge.

“Behave,” Jon muttered as she slammed down a pan. “I’ll just have toast.”

Kate rolled her eyes and started cracking eggs. "You should be eating protein by the truckload there metabolism boy." She motioned to his skinny self with an eggshell. "I wish I had to eat to gain. I have to remember to put down the chocolate box or I won't be able to climb on the gurneys to do CPR."

He pictured her straddling a patient. Somehow he figured that would cause a heart attack, more than cure it. "You look awesome to me."

"Dark toast or light?" she asked changing the subject smoothly.

He grinned. So his doctor didn’t like compliments. Hmm. "Light is fine." He glanced back at Elena's now closed bedroom door. "SAMBORA!!"

Richie threw open the door. "Relax, man. Some people need a little privacy to change, unlike you nude boy."

Jon arched a brow. "Right, King. I think half the county has seen your lily white ass, not mine.”
Ignoring him completely he straddled a chair and reached for a mug that was set out on the table. "Thanks for breakfast, Kate." he said and poured coffee while nearly drooling over the eggs and buttery toast he could already taste.

She dropped a plate in front of him letting it thunk. "Welcome."

Jon reached out, took a piece of toast, munching as Kate banged around. Not very subtle, his Kate. Swallowing with a little difficulty, he tried to pinpoint when his and Kate had become interchangeable.

Richie arched a brow and lifted a fork from the pile on the table. "Thanks," he said cautiously.

Elena breezed in, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Morning Katydid, Mop-Top, Richie."

Kate, under the cover of passing out plates, studied her friend. She’d quickly dressed in a pair of faded cut-off denim shorts and a rather bright purple halter top. Good grief, she’d even managed some make-up. She seemed much more alert and like her old self that morning.

Kate didn't think she'd ever miss hearing one of her crazy nicknames until the silence of the last two weeks. Her chipper self was a welcome balm to the harried last two weeks of over-partying and vicious highs and lows. "Well sit down, Sugar and load up on protein and carbs," she gave her a sly grin, trying to lighten up about the Richie subject, "unless you've had your fill of protein."

"Umm haven’t had a thing in...." She paused a moment when Kate’s meaning actually hit her, "KATE!" She picked up a piece of toast and halved it, nibbling on it as she willed the blush away.

Richie choked on his coffee and sat back in his chair then pointed a fork at Jon, "Not a word, Kidd."

Jon leaned back his eyes wide, "What? I didn't say a thing!"

Elena glanced up at Richie, her eyes glittering devilishly. "He just doesn’t wanna admit all he did was sleep."

Kate sat with a leg curled under her as she halved a slice of toast. She glanced from Richie to Elena, jammed it full of eggs before wrapping it tightly and popping it in her mouth. She tucked a lock of unruly curls behind her ear. "Sleep?” she said around the eggs, honestly surprised.

"Yeah like you and Jon on the couch, sleep." Richie said sadly.

Kate's face flamed. "Yeah well, Jon and I are platonic unlike the carnal duo that you guys are."

“That would be her idea not mine,” Jon grumped.

Richie inclined his head. "She wants to start over, so we're starting over...from scratch."

Elena wrapped her hands around the mug Kate pre-poured, her eyes on Richie. "Some people have a bit of groveling to do."

The table barely seated the four of them without elbows overlapping. Richie leaned to his right, teasing her jaw line with a quick buzz of his nose. "I grovel with the best of them."

"I bet you do, Richie.” She lifted her shoulder against the quick thrill of his touch. How the hell was she supposed to keep him at arm’s length if the smallest of touches could distract her? Turning to Jon she smiled. "Moptop, I hear you’re heading overseas tonight. I bet you’re looking forward to it, right?"

Jon laughed, "Oh yeah Teensy, a laugh a minute.” He scooped up some eggs, waving his fork. “One more long flight and fight with customs, my favorite.”

Kate leaned forward. “Do you guys actually have trouble?”

Crunching on a piece of bacon he nodded toward Richie. “I swear they think Rich is the kingpin of a Columbian Drug Cartel.”

“You watch too much Miami Vice,” Richie muttered.

Watching Richie twist was too delicious. It was true, they got stopped more often than not and questioned about their travel plans, but it was Tico and Al that got the most jumps. “I swear! We get stopped all the time. Christ, Rich, how many times have you been strip searched?”

“Fuck off,” Richie said. “Don’t mind him, the eggs are going to his head.”

Jon sat back. “What about you and Kate? What are you two ladies doing today?"

"And more importantly, what are you guys going to do for ten days without us," Richie asked.

Elena tilted her head, batting her lashes with exaggeration. "Plan your suffering.” At his quick grin, she took another bite of her toast and chased it with her coffee. “Then there’s a party or two I've been invited to, classes, just the usual stuff. So exciting, ya know?"

Richie cupped his mug and leaned back on the chair. "Will there be handstands at these parties?"

Kate paused before gathering more plates to clean off the table. "Do I want to know?"

Chapter 40

The low hum of the off-air beep on the TV slowly filtered into his conscious. Groaning with the sudden stiffness of his neck, he cracked an eye open. What the hell? Where the shit was he? The soft murmur next to him followed by a hand low on his jeans, reminded him just where he was.

Richie’d finally gotten his head on straight. Breaking the speed barrier to find Elena hadn’t been on his schedule, but if the end product included Katy, he couldn’t exactly complain. His head dipped as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, grinning when she didn’t move a muscle. Kate, his brave little doctor, had finally let go just a tiny bit, letting him see the woman beneath the stethoscope.

Lifting his arm to check his watch, his eyes widened at the time. "Kate,” he shook her shoulder gently, loathe to wake her, but he had a plane to catch in a few hours. “Kate…baby, you need to wake up."

"Mm-nnnnmmm. Sleepin'. Go away." She rubbed her nose into his chest before she burrowed deeper.

He hugged her closer, his voice low and insistent. "Baby, I know you’re tired, but did you hear Elena come in?” Looking around the apartment, he didn’t see anything to tell him Richie and Teensy had made it back home. “It's—dammit, I hate this,” he growled as she tucked herself deeper into his side. He’d like nothing more than to carry her into her room and sleep with her for a week. Well, at least be horizontal. “We’ve got a plane to the UK that we can’t miss."

With a start, training from ER catnaps kicked in and she popped up. Immediately awake, she frowned as her fingers curled into hair roughened, warm flesh. Definitely male flesh. Trying to snatch her hand back, she groaned when his t-shirt twisted around her hand. Sweet, Mary when had her fingers slid under there?

Part of her wanted to smooth over the interesting ridges and see just what was under the dark cotton. The other part snapped back and drew her hand away without looking at him. "What?" She blinked, had he said the UK? Early dawn light crept into the Bat Cave she called her living room. She looked down at their prone positions...yet again...on a couch. "This is getting to be a habit when we get together. At least our clothes are on this time," she said and detangled herself from him.

He grinned. "I’m not complaining. Matter of fact…it’s probably the first decent sleep I've had in a couple of weeks." He glanced around the room trying to find some indication that they’d come back some time in the night. "Thing is…we were right here.” He sat up, his skin missing hers already. “If they came in we would have heard it, right?” God, he hoped to hell she’d taken him back. Standing, he stretched out the worst of the kinks, taking in her sleep mussed hair and sharp green eyes. "I hated to wake you…” but she didn’t look tired. “I know you’re probably exhausted—“

“I’m good,” she interrupted, standing beside him.

“Okay, good. I don’t know this area and if I have to hunt him down, I'll need your,” he paused, gritting his teeth, “help." Asking for the Good Doctor’s help was a little easier when she looked like a sexy co-ed. His eyes dropped to her chest. The shirt had twisted in sleep, leaving her more-than-a-handful breasts on display. His fingers itched to tug the cotton just a little lower to see if her nipples were just as pretty as he remembered.

She hiked the shoulder straps of her tank until her breasts were under control. For God's sake she'd slept on him. Again. Trying desperately to ignore the glint in his eyes, she bit back a groan. On top of that hot look, it had been the most thorough sleep she'd had since...the last time she'd slept with him. Mercy, pull it together. Glancing around the room, carefully avoiding the mouthwatering bulge pressing on his fly, she tried to think. "I don't see Elena's purse, but that doesn't mean anything. She rarely carries one when she's partying." She was babbling. This is what that stupid man reduced her to.

Watching her stalk the room, the unusual wildness of her hair reminding him of a feisty lioness, he felt a little calmer. She was just as freaked out by the situation, maybe more so.

Kate checked the front door and found it unlocked, then backed up and headed for Elena's room. She pushed open the door and stopped. Richie was curled around her best friend; his feet and a good three inches of leg were hanging off the end of her bed. White socks were twisted in powder blue sheets while pretty pink toenails lay against his denim clad legs. Richie surrounded Elena both with body and arms until her friend lay snuggled in a perfect little nest. They both shared the same pillow. If she had to make a guess, there wasn’t a bit of Richie NOT touching her.

The intimacy was staggering. More than enough to have her beat a hasty retreat. He'd certainly sweet-talked his way back into her good graces with little effort. She backed into Jon with a muttered curse.

Jon's fingers slid along the slice of skin that gaped between her shorts and tank. Pulling back at her flinch, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "What? She’s not there?"

"Oh yeah she is," she muttered and turned away. She banged her toe into a small cosmetic drawer, knocking a prescription bottle onto her throbbing foot. She swore viciously, both from the eye crossing pain and her all over body flush at Jon’s touch. She picked it up, automatically scanning the script and the drug. Her crazy reaction to Jon immediately forgotten. "Well that explains that," she said darkly.

He peeked his head in, seeing Richie nearly exploding off the little bed, he came in the rest of the way. "Damn. That’s the first time I've seen him sleep in weeks." He spoke in a regular voice. You could scream into Richie’s ear point blank and he wouldn’t fucking hear you. Turning back to Kate his eyebrow rose. "What explains what?"

She shook the pills at him, her anger growing at the lack of rattle. Looking back down at the count she saw red. "Fucking amphetamines." Tucking the bottle into her shorts pocket, she pointed at the blissfully sleeping couple. "That's what he did to her.” The rage blew through her. “We did hell week without the help of uppers and she fucks him one time.” She whirled on Jon, stepping into his space. “One time and she's fucking using to get over him!” She brushed past him, the force backing him to the doorjamb. “Get him outta here," she growled.

He followed her out, grabbing her upper arm. An answering anger caused him to grab her harder than he intended, backing off when she twisted away. "What part of last night did you miss when I told you he was just as bad?" He watched the anger turn her eyes dark as emeralds. He glanced back at the bedroom. "It seems to me they are both content at the moment.” He turned back to her, the way she vibrated and yet stayed perfectly still seemed more of a warning than even her earlier shouts. "Don’t they deserve to make that decision for themselves?" Cautiously, he moved closer, his hand reaching for her waist. "Do you hate him that much?"

She pushed at him, even as he gathered her closer. "You didn't see her. Didn't see what he'd done to her with one or two careless words." When his fingers tangled in her hair and held her against him, she growled at him. "One night and he wrecked her. I can't watch her go through that again,” she whispered. “She doesn't deserve it."

"Katy, he made a mistake.” His tone went soothing as he pulled her in tight. “A bad one. And believe me, he paid for it as well.” The fear still churned in his gut. He’d never seen Richie so close to the edge before. “He’s trying to make it right."

The rich, cinnamon smell he associated with her pushed through the anger. The way her body fit into his reminded him of his own restless nights without her. Flatfooted, her mouth met his neck and he could feel her breath. Trying to ignore the way his body instantly reacted to her, he blocked out the way her unencumbered breasts flattened against his chest. They felt soft and he could still remember her taste.

This had to stay about Richie. He pulled back, banking his own fury and attraction. He knew her anger was due to her loyalty to her friend. He could understand that, and he sure as fuck respected it. "Just talk to him.” He watched the anger melt away. Seeing her wavering he went on. “You’ll see that he means it, I promise.” When her back went up again, he sighed. “Talk to her, Katy. See what she says.” When her mouth opened to interrupt him he held up a hand. “Don’t just dismiss it. We need to do what’s right for them…not us."

Her knees dissolved with the heat of her anger as she sagged into his arms. Everything inside of her told her to get Elena as far away from Richie as possible. She pressed her nose into his chest and took a deep breath until her head swam with that indefinable scent that haunted her dreams. Not every night, just the ones where she felt the loneliest. "Just give me a second," she said with a very sad and very tired sigh.

His cock wrestled with his zipper. Each time he took her into him for comfort he wanted just a bit more. Forcing his voice to stay light, he murmured, "take all the time you need."

She pressed her cheek into his shoulder, looking out across the room so that she could see inside Elena's bedroom. "She does look peaceful," she said mournfully.

"So does he, I actually hate the idea of having to wake him."

His voice was low, rumbling against her cheek. Suddenly very aware of her near naked self, plastered to him, she eased back. She cleared her throat, needing to change the subject. "Where are you guys headed?"

Knowing the moment was gone, yet again, he sat back on the couch. "London first, concert at Hammersmith Odeon, then Holland.” Already exhausted just at the thought, he sighed. “I can’t keep track of the stupid schedule. It’s ever changing,” he bit back his bitching. He knew he sounded like an ungrateful shit. He knew a dozen guys that would kill for the position he was in. He rolled his eyes. “More interviews than I want to think about and," he shivered a bit, "photo sessions. Should be gone a couple of weeks this time."

At his crooked grin, she gave him an answering smile. "Pictures, huh?" She fluffed his curls. "Gonna get all pretty for the camera, Sugar?"

"Something like that. And of course, it’s always, ‘Wear the ripped shirt Jon, or don’t wear a shirt, Jon.’ Dammit, you’d think all I am is a—“ He shook his head ruefully, "Listen to me bitch. Whatever gets our music out there."

“Sounds like you're convincing yourself.” Without thinking she let her fingers glide over his chest, feeling the crisp hairs under the cotton, then the real thing as the rip in his shirt curled around her finger. When his sky blue eyes heated at her touch she cleared her throat and stood. Obviously, she couldn’t be that close to him without thinking naked thoughts. "I can't trust myself not to kick your other half in the head, so why don't you wake them up?" She headed to the small kitchenette. "I'll have coffee ready for all of us."

Chapter 39

Richie stood when she entered the room. Her sun-kissed shoulders were bare, save for skimpy strings of white that held the scrap of a tank up. He remembered the taste of those shoulders and the water soft skin of her breasts against his lips. Even as his eyes took her in, her nipples peaked under the cotton leaving him to bite back a groan. The sweats hung low on her hips bagging at the ankles and he had to curl his fingers into a fist to stop from reaching for her. Scrubbed clean she looked even younger and more innocent…God, too innocent for him to touch. How could he have thought she was nothing more than a groupie? "God, Elena."

Her head tilted, curious at his sudden stillness and sad eyes. Moving to the bed she sat down Indian style and patted the place next to her. "What, Richie?"

"Just looking at you makes me ache." He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning in to nuzzle her bare neck. The soft wisps of hair tickled his nose even as he moved in for more.

She bit back a groan, reminding herself to find some control...somewhere. No matter how fast and how intense her body reacted, she wouldn’t give in. But she would give him something to think on.

In a flash she twisted, pushing him back as she slid up to straddle his belly. Leaning in she poured everything she had into the kiss. His flavor swirled inside of her testing her resolve even now. Every part of her longing to give in, longing to find that oneness she’d found that first night. Digging deep, she eased out of the kiss. His beautiful face, lax with the strength of the kiss pushed her on. "That’s gonna be an ache you’re gonna have to learn to love.” When his eyes blinked open she went on. “Because you have to earn that back too, not just my trust, but access to all that entails." She wriggled slightly, the urge to taunt him into insanity riding high within her.

Richie's lips burned at her kiss. His body tightened instantly at her wiggle as he dropped his head back on the bed. Of course it had been too easy to win her back. So what if he'd gone without for the last week and would have no sex for nearly two weeks overseas.

It wasn't a big deal. Really.

He groaned when her hips shimmied one more time, rolling her over, he caged her within his arms. He pressed his erection at the apex of her thighs. "I can hold out as long as you need me to." He hovered over her mouth, teasing without tasting, sharing breath until she leaned up into him. "But don't think I won't try to change your mind, Elena."

She licked her lips, challenge and lust whipping through her blood. "You can try Richie,” she nipped at his full lower lip, “I look forward to it." Arching upwards, she lifted one leg to rub against his side. "Did I mention one of my unfailing faults? It’s called obstinacy." She giggled softly, her hands sliding up over his sides then slowly up under his shirt along his back.

"I can take it," he groaned as he sipped from the skin along her clavicle. "I like foreplay," he said and nosed the strap of her tank away until he could cover her shoulder in soft, lingering kisses. "I can go all night."

Her head lifted to nibble that muscle along his neck slowly, "Mmm, I remember."

He let his head fall back and enjoy her touch. The cool as rain hair that slid over her shoulder from the ponytail she wore and the pretty pink shell of her ear so close. He dipped down and caught her lips in the softest kiss he could. He drew on the knowledge of that night…the whispy memories of what she liked. He stroked his tongue along hers, tangled with her until he felt the sweet sigh of her surrender, letting the kiss deepen.

Soft whimpers caught in her throat as her hands continued to roam, re-learning each inch of his delicious skin. Instinctively her body rubbed against him, everything in her wanted to stroke him from head to toe. "We're supposed to be talking..." She gasped as his busy hands found and teased a spot that always sent her soaring. "Richie," she said on a sigh.

He teased his way down, flicking his tongue over the tiny pointed chin to the sensitive underside. "Go ahead and talk," he said with a low voice that was little more than a grumble.

Her fingers sifted through his hair, first gently then twisting and tugging him closer as he caught that spot again. "Forgot what I was gonna say, really." She tried to find her brain, but it was hard when he knew her body so well even after one night over a week ago. "I know how I tried to wipe your memory out, but how'd you do it?” She groaned when his teeth nipped, then laved her with his clever tongue. “What changed your mind?" She managed to ask.

He groaned as her thighs viced around him. "I figured out I was no good without you." He slid his hands down over her hips, curling his fingers underneath her to squeeze the only fleshy part of her. He pressed her harder to him so that not even a wisp of air would be between them. "Booze didn't work,” he scraped his teeth over the elegant column of her throat. “I could smell you everywhere. I couldn't sleep in my bed without seeing your face, feeling your touch." He found her ear, sucking on the fleshy lobe, curling it into his mouth. "I pushed away everyone because they just weren't you."

She pulled his face closer to hers. She knew the tears had started, but she couldn’t seem to care. "I didn't sleep…Couldn't really, to be honest. If I slept, then there you were, haunting my dreams.” She sniffed, cupping his cheek. “I took stuff to stay awake…drank the rest of the time." She ran her nose along his neck, not able to look at him now.

"Nothing was right.” She punched her fist into his shoulder lightly, not able to hit him harder. “Dammit, just one night…smelling you close, feeling you close and my sleep was ruined. Concentration gone—I couldn’t bear to think about school. I've missed more classes than I've attended.” She sighed, “Kate, she’s ready to give up." Finally, she looked up at him. "I got so tired Richie. So tired of even existing.” She looked down, suddenly ashamed. “If you hadn't shown up tonight, there’s no telling what might have happened."

Gentling his touch he shifted. The time for seduction had passed. She needed his strength now and his comfort. Even as his dick screamed in retaliation, he turned onto his side and curled her into him. He reached over to the small bedside lamp, dropping the room into darkness.

"I'm sorry baby," he tucked his chin into her neck and wrapped his arms around her, finally shifting to his back and letting her roll over, into him. Legs tangled as they got situated. He sighed when her breath teased his chest, finally cuddling into him. Normally, that kind of confession would have sent him to the hills in a panic, but considering his feelings mirrored hers he just said a quick prayer of thanks that he'd finally gotten his head out of his ass and found her in time. "I'll never let you go again."

Her hands tightened around him, her voice soft as she relaxed for the first time in weeks. "Good, cuz I kinda like it right here. I won't let you go again…ever." Her eyes closed as she pressed her nose into his skin, lulling herself into sleep with his scent wrapping itself around her.

Chapter 38

She twisted slightly and tried to looked backwards, feeling more like a silver lame potato sack than a girl. "So that’s where the hell it got off to... you STOLE my license?" She reached down and smacked his ass hard, giggling when he shook it in her face.

Swallowing a laugh, he clapped a hand on her silver toned ass. "You left it behind, baby. You were too quick to try and get out of your pants for me, remember?"

She winced slightly and grew quiet. Well, that was true. It was hard to believe, given her background. She’d never done even considered going home with a man on the first meeting, let alone no actual date. Usually a guy had to wine and dine her for weeks to even get to second base. Richie’s crooked smile had her screaming around the bases so fast she was out of the park and starting over again before her next coherent thought. She sighed slightly and murmured, "I recall someone helping me outta those jeans and throwing them across the room."

He eased her down off his shoulder and settled her on the grass in front of her apartment. Dragging her in, he laughed. "It's a joke, sweetheart. And believe me, even with the rather regretful title that Jon has given me over the years it's never been as intense as it was with you."

She tilted her head and looked up at him the night shadowing his face to her view. "Well, joke or not, it was truth.” Her fingers smoothed down his cheek, still not quite able to believe he was there in front of her. “I did move quick.” She shook her head. “I can't explain why because usually…well, with the exception of you I NEVER go that far, that fast." His words caught in her mind and began to nibble at her awareness, "regretful title?"

Richie winced. "I keep forgetting you're not a fan." He sighed. "I'm sure you'll hear it from someone," he paused calling himself ten different kinds of a fool. "Jonny is Captain Kidd and I'm King of Swing."

She blinked then started to laugh, "Moptop, well that fits him no doubt about it. Yours is Swing because of how you play, right?" She tilted her head just waiting to see how honest he'd be.

"No baby, I wish I could say otherwise. I never found a girl that was important enough to stop playing the field for."

She nervously swiped her tongue over her suddenly dry lips. "That's not exactly an explanation Richie."

"You're not that innocent, Elena.” He refused to go into detail. There were just some things she didn’t need to know about his life before her. Because that’s what it was…B.E.—Before Elena. “I’ve lived the rock star life for awhile. A long while,” he amended, “and it's gotten old. But when you're young and stupid that's what you do. Believe me, you don't want the particulars." He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his chest. "I won't give you the particulars either. Just know that I've got something to work for in a relationship for the first time in a long time."

Her lips curved into a sly smile, choosing her words to startle more than anything. "So…no more revolving door?” At his absolute stillness she decided to go with complete honesty as well. “After we left Asbury—although it killed me—I couldn't help but find out all I could about the two of you." A blush rode high on her cheeks and she was glad, so very glad, at the darkness that hid it.

He grinned down at her, leaning in. "I don't know if I should be pleased or scared shitless that you researched me." A wicked grin left her eyes sparkling in the dark and he decided he was in deep trouble in a lot of ways.

"Ahh,” she traced her finger along his lower lip, her grin going wider as he nipped the tip. “Be afraid, that will keep you on your toes." She shivered slightly in the night air. "How about we go where it’s less chilly Richie?"

He slid his arm around her shoulders and dragged her into him. "Let's hope Kate and Jon didn't kill each other while I was begging for mercy."

She shook her head and gave a short laugh, "Kate just came off duty, so he’s probably only half dead."

He followed her inside and stopped dead in his tracks. Chevy Chase was on the TV, playing full blast, in a car doing his level best to look like he knew what he was doing and Jon and Kate were settled against each other yet again. At least they had all of their clothes on this time, but equally unconscious. "They really gravitate to couches don't they?"

Elena turned and studied the pair quietly. "Yeah they do and they look so darned comfortable.” She tucked herself into Richie’s warm chest. “I wonder what happened to land her back in his arms. She swore the next time she saw either of you she'd…umm, do something drastic with a scalpel." She gave a soft laugh then moved to her bedroom door. "We'll have more privacy in here and won’t wake them"

He followed her inside, giving one more glance over his shoulder. "You sure she left the scalpel at work?"

"Probably,” she said easily enough. “She wasn't expecting you was, she?" At Richie’s startled look, she grinned then pointed to a spot near the bed. "YOU stay right there. I'm going to get out of this party gear.” At his fallen face she laughed. “Won’t be but a moment."

She turned to her dresser, pulling a couple items out before she slipped into the bathroom. Taking a few minutes to shower the party from her body, she quickly toweled off pulling her hair high into a pony tail. Debating the signal she was about to send, she slipped into a skimpy tank top and over sized, grey sweat pants. In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought as she scrubbed the remnants of her makeup away. Time to let him see the real her. She opened the door, her heart squeezing at that long, tall man on her little bed. She’d imagined this a dozen times. "I’m back."

Chapter 37

The bitter taste of hops, temptation and the unique flavor of Elena mixed until he couldn't stop himself from taking it a step farther. His tongue touched hers, slowly rubbing until she responded.

Her tongue hesitantly brushed against his as she pressed closer to him, her need warring with logic. Her fingers tangled carelessly into the darkness of his hair as a soft whimper escaped her. She should stop this and back away, but she was trapped inside his arms and inside her desire. Pulling back, she tore her lips from his, her heartbeat crashing in her ears. Eager to go back to that mouth, but knowing she couldn’t be another single moment, she pulled away.

He felt her pulling away and inwardly cursed. He dipped his head, gathered her in. Even just the bit of night air between them had him panicking. His soft, unthreatening kisses weren’t even enough to hold onto her. "Dammit, Elena," he whispered under his breath.

His panic was there, in his stance and the eyes holding her as firmly as his arms did. "You had the chance and because of anger or fear…” She trailed off, backing up a step. She couldn’t think with him touching her. She waved her hands, “Or whatever. You were the one that threw it away. No one has EVER made me feel the way you did, then just,” she looked down at her sparkly shoes fighting the tears that were never far away. “Just trampled it,” she whispered then looked at him, searching the dark eyes that haunted her dreams, “NO ONE!"

She huffed out an exasperated breath, "I've spent weeks trying to drown out these stupid memories.” She crossed her arms over her chest protectively. “Totally unsuccessfully,” she confessed begrudgingly. “And now you waltz back into my life, begging my forgiveness, and wanting another chance."

She watched him steadily, "Your life style doesn't bother me, I'm a big girl and all, but TELL me how you plan on earning back my trust, when you're gonna be miles and miles away…Oh, ninety percent of the time?” she dropped her hands, defeated. “Give me SOMETHING here Richie. Give me a reason to say yes."

"I'm working with more faith than I've ever had for anyone except my parents and the big guy," he pointed to the stars and heavens above. He smoothed his hands down her shoulders to her arms, forearms and finally to her fingers twining his long ones with her smaller ones. "I don't have anything but me."

He pulled her fingers up to his mouth, brushing his lips back and forth over her knuckles. "I don't know if it's good enough or even worth it to you, but you've got me. All of me in a single night. I can't even think of another woman with you swimming around in my head." He put her hand against his heart, flattened her palm until the slim coolness found his skin within the jacket. "Just me."

She listened to the steady beat of his heart, cocking her head as she studied his face. She’d been unsuccessful at removing him from her mind, and most especially her heart. She'd felt the rightness in that one night. Did a week’s worth of time actually do the same for him?

She tried to fight the smile. Sure, she could make it extremely hard on him, but what purpose would that serve? She wasn't the kind of woman that fell hard and fast like this. In fact, no other man had ever made her feel quite like Richie had. Could she really say no, when her heart was so obviously saying yes? Deep down underneath the facade she'd known he was worth it…that he always would be.

Her palm slid slowly up and came to rest on the back of his neck as she slid closer and stood on tiptoes to press her lips against his. "I'll give you this chance Richie, I'll take you…as is,” her eyebrow arched playfully. “No warranty even,” she purred. Pressing closer she felt his heartbeat match hers. “Question is, big guy,” she traced her forefinger over his bottom lip. “Can you handle what you just asked for?"

Lifting her up, he laughed when her sparkle-clad legs slipped around his waist. "I can handle anything you dish out, Baby." He yanked her closer, then even closer still until the softness of her breasts pushed against him and her arms crisscrossed around his neck. He buried his mouth into her neck, letting the scent of her and the taste of her blend into a heady burst of homecoming. "God, I missed you," he said, letting himself breathe for the first time in days.

She tucked her chin into his neck on the other side, the smell of leather and man making her dizzy. "Serves ya right, you big goof!" She found his earlobe, nibbling before she followed it with a soothing flick of her tongue. "Glad it wasn't just me, Pony." She wiggled a bit on his waist, her hands tightening around him, a devilish imp sitting on her shoulder. "Although you just might regret trying to handle a woman like me."

"The only regret I have is wasting the last few days, because I'm going to test you right away. We leave for London in the morning." He rested his forehead against hers. "I don't know how I'm going to do it.” He pressed a fleeting kiss on her lips, not wanting to break the spell. “How am I goin’ to leave you for ten days?"

She laughed softly, "Ahh, duty calls hmm?" She pressed a kiss to his nose. "I won’t vanish or blow away to dust, I'll be right here, going to school." Her grin widened, "There’s this new invention,” she said solemnly. “It’s called a telephone? Ever heard of it, handsome?"

He groaned, "I have heard of that phone thingie.” He shifted her higher and immediately regretted it as his cock rose to the occasion. “I even learned how to use the silly keys on it," he said trying to keep the playful tone even when all he wanted to do was find the nearest flat surface and finally lose himself in her arms again.

Amusement and that quick rush of excitement she associated with Richie, clamored to life. Trying desperately to ignore the thick, hard length growing between her thighs, she tried to keep it light and easy. "I hear it comes in handy for people,” she rolled her hips, unable to keep herself in check with the amount of beer sliding through her veins. She sighed, “It makes it easy to talk across great distances." Her hands slid along his shoulders teasingly as she pressed against his chest.

“Fuck the phone,” he growled and turned around, heading away from the noise of the party. He caught her hand as it headed around into his hair again. He wasn’t going to make it if she kept that up. The fact that she on the wrong side of drunk made him want to take care. Even if he had a hard on that wouldn't quit, he needed to tread lightly for the first time in his life. “How about we head back to your place, huh?”

Her head was still whirling from the effects of too many nights drinking with little down time for sobering up, but the cool night air was helping that along. "Sounds like a plan..." she trailed off before saying Richie or Pony, still half convinced she was passed out somewhere and dreaming. “I live over that-a-way," her arm waved off to the left and backwards in the general location of where home was.

He grinned down at her, letting her slide down his body. Not able to keep his hands off her, he cupped her cheek, letting his thumb glide over the high arch of her brow and down along the crest of her cheek. "I'll get you home." A soft giggle escaped her as she turned to walk home, and as usual she headed in the absolute wrong direction. Too amused to care, he smiled down at her.

"Well come on Richie, we'll get there and we'll TALK." Her mind whirled as she considered all that she was agreeing to in forgiving him. He wanted to earn her trust back. Question was…how was she going to let him do that?

Richie gently turned her back around to the correct direction and tugged her into him so she wouldn't notice. "Well I can almost guarantee you won't remember what we talk about babe. Impressive handstand on the keg, inside."

She waved her hand dismissively, "Aww shucks that was nothing,” she grinned up at him. “Should’ve seen me hanging from the banister doing it." She leaned into him, more for support than needing his nearness at that exact moment.


He just answered with an eyebrow raise and shuffled her along to the road. The party behind them was in high gear, but the college crowd only worried about getting inside, not the leaving so they had a clear path across the lawn. Their fingers laced perfectly, her smaller hand nestled close and for the first time in what felt like weeks, his belly eased. How could one woman affect him so completely?

She stopped suddenly, wanting to take in the moment. She lifted her face to the sky, smiling lightly. She pushed back the tendrils of hair that kicked up in the soft breeze. Glancing over at the big, solid man that had come to a halt beside her, she opened her eyes again. "Ya know, I think this might end up being my second favorite night of my entire life." She flicked over the dent in his chin. "It’s definitely in the running for best night."

Going with instinct, he curled his hand around her middle, dragging her back against him. Pushing her hair aside, he nuzzled her, drawing in that perfect Elena scent. "You in the moonlight could never be a bad thing, Lains." He dragged his lips up her neck, until he found the line of hair at her nape. "Never a bad thing," he said slow and low as he traced the shell of her ear.

A shiver raced up her spine as she fought back the feelings he was creating in her. "You’re a baaaad boy did you know that?" She glanced right, then left and sighed. As he sucked in the fleshy lobe she groaned, "And that is so not helping me get un-lost either."

"Good thing I have such a good sense of direction. I keep coming back to you, don't I?" He laughed and nipped her neck, catching her hand as he swung her out then back in and hoisted her into a tango with feet dangling as he crossed the street. The first lick of happiness threw him into a playful giddiness that had been missing for a long time.

A soft squeal was the only sound on her lips as her world spun, then crashed into his oh so sturdy body. She was slowly coming to her senses and everything inside of her was screaming to slow it down and talk before he set the blaze inside of her to incineration point. "So, how DID you find me Richie?"

Instead of putting her down he neatly lifted her and tucked her over his shoulder. "A funny thing happened actually; I sort of stepped on you."

Her eyes widened as the ground came a little closer. Gripping his back she sucked back a scream. That so wasn’t a good thing for a drunk girl, with depth perception issues to see. "Stepped on me?" she asked, trying to keep from falling.

"Missing your license, Ms. Elena Masters?"

Chapter 36

Richie's long legged stride ate up the lawn and street as he followed the noise. All American boys that lived for football, geeks that road coattails by writing extra papers and women in little to no clothing littered the front lawn. In the half dozen years since he’d tried college, some things never changed.

He politely detangled himself from a chesty blonde and another giddy, yet slightly drunk redhead before he got to the front door.
Inside was little better. Dark rooms with mood enhancing lights…aka make-out corners, pulsing music and the smell of far too many perfumes attacked his senses until he was unable to decipher one from the other. A circle of men shouting and a pair of heels caught him first. When he saw the heels go sky high again, he pushed through the crowd. It couldn't be...

He pushed aside a lanky kid, all of nineteen to see Elena doing a Beer Funnel upside down. "Chug! Chug! Chug!" came the circle of men as she swallowed beer.

Her short self was upside down, her lips attached to a hose attached to the keg she was currently doing the hand stand on. She waved her feet, silver heels glinting in the low light, matching skin tight pants hugged her everywhere and the smooth length of tummy showed as her shirt pooled up against her chest. He fought himself not to run and drag her off the beer funnel. Didn't she know those were dangerous? It wasn't even tasted, just blasted into her belly.

She bent double, barely landing right side up before lifting her hands to sway and shimmy towards the music. The beer had exploded in her belly, not nearly covering the ache that lived there now. God would it never go away? "Thanks guys, that'll do it for the moment." She knew it wouldn’t, she didn’t think anything would make the pain go away, but she was determined to try. There had to be SOMETHING that would erase that one night, the tease of his smile, the way he had smelled, and how he had felt surrounding her. Stop it Elena, you’re not helping yourself here.


She lifted her arms and swayed to the music, bumping and grinding against each guy as she moved about the room. There had to be a guy out there somewhere who could make her stop thinking of Richie. Well hell beer wasn’t getting the damned job done nothing was really. Reaching out, she winked up at a jock as she stole his fifth of tequila. Well if beer wont work lets hit the harder stuff and if that don’t work I’ll just find Ben. He’s good for a toke or two. She’d do anything to eradicate the uneraseable.


Richie banked the anger and told himself that he'd done the same thing. He had no right to be mad, there were no strings, he'd made sure of it. But when she slid against the next warm body then away he stepped forward.

Curling the bottle of tequila too her she turned, overly made up eyes looking for the guy famous for always having a stash, her eyes catching a bare whiff of a black Stetson. Jesus, memories were everywhere it seemed. She knew it wasn’t the Stetson she wanted, but damn just maybe….. She started to make her way towards what appeared to be a tall dark guy in a hat as some blonde jock changed the music from a pounding Stones song to .. noooooooo not them of all things. The Stetson was forgotten when As You Give Love a Bad Name started to blast through the house. Her tiny body tightened like a over wound watch; her eyes shadowing in pain while a half empty bottle slipped through nerveless fingers. Jesus of all the fucking albums for this frat to have in its possession. She should of asked to start with.

There was no way she could stay in here now. It was too much to ask of her, party girl couldn’t do her thing not with the agony that was now banding tightly around her heart. She had to get the hell out of this room with its flashes of Stetsons and music that had her seeing and feeling that one damned night. With shoulders tight with tension, every fake pretense she had put on dropped. Whirling she headed for the double doors that lead outside to the garden. As she stepped through the double doors she banked right and headed into the trees. God forbid anyone see the tears that no longer just threatened.

Richie watched as the Elena he didn't recognize quickly morphed into a sad one that he knew all too well. He chased after her, pushing through the crowd as he caught a glimpse of her hair, then the quick shot of silver that clung to her shoulder. "Elena!" he called out, but she couldn't hear him over the music, HIS music, he thought regretfully. "Dammit!" He snarled as he tried to get out of the cluster fuck of college kids.

She bit back a sob as the music kept blasting into her soul driving her deeper into a pit that she wasn’t so sure she’d ever going to crawl out of. Nothing had helped, pills to stay awake, booze to dull the pain, nothing at all could erase that one fucking night from her mind or heart. The whisper of a voice calling her name had her stiffening. God damn was she forever more going to hear him calling her name like he did that morning? That one morning that had did more to shatter her very being than anything her parents had ever done before?

Dragging her hands up through her hair she sobbed. It just wasn’t fair, why wouldn’t they change the fucking album? Why couldn’t she get over him? Fuck, get with it Elena, its just a fucking song. Get the hell over yourself, you were just a fuck, a one night stand, he wasn’t different like you thought. Get it together and get back to the party.

He broke through the crowd. "Elena!" He shoved one large linebacker out of his way, "Excuse me," he said and moved forward.

There it was again, that voice that sounded so much like his, it was just her imagination; she knew that. How many times lately had she turned suddenly thinking she saw him or heard him like she heard him that morning? She wasn't gonna fool herself this time, he wasn't there and she knew it. Slender shoulders began to shake harder as the silver of her tears fell harder. She wanted to scream at them all to turn the fucking album off, hadn’t she been through enough? Did they have to torture her like that? If they’d just turn that fucking music off I would be ok, I would. Yeah Elena lie to yourself, that will solve all your problems.

The sound of his booming guitars and Jon's voice was all he could hear. Shit, waylaid by his own fucking music. He nearly made it to her. "Elena!"

She was lost in her misery, the memory of his voice teasing her like so many sharp needles. She needed more tequila; that would drown him out. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her hand to tried to stop the tears. Taking a deep breath she attempted to turn back to the party, but the song had her rooted to the spot.

Richie stopped as he rounded the trees. She was there, her shoulders heaving as she stared up at the sky. Her dark hair was a teasing tumble of silk down her back letting tiny bits of silver glint in the moonlight. And when he saw her hand come up to dash at her cheeks, acid carved out his belly and left a new ache. God, I made her cry. Before he could stop himself he whispered her name. They were far enough away from the party now so that he could be heard. "Elena."

She whirled the softest gasp echoing over her lips as eyes glazed from both pain and alcohol glanced upwards. He wasn’t there, he wasn’t; it was just a ghost of a memory. "Go way Ghostie, your not real." She tilted her head, the moonlight turning her tears to traces of silver. Her broken heart whispered out in a voice that held only pain, "Why can't I drown you out huh?"

"Aww, little one." He moved in closer, watched as she wavered a little and caught her hand, dragging her in. "Elena, God." His voice was little more than breath. Even with the stench of alcohol and unwashed males all over that party she smelled of heaven. He drew her in, pressing his cheek against her hair.

It’s just a trick of the alcohol; it had to be, Her tears scalded her cheeks as she murmured, "Stupid memory, quit tormenting me."

"It's me, baby. I swear it. It's me." He pressed a kiss to her temple, the baby fine hairs tickled his nose as he dragged her closer.

"You wouldn’t come that far for a darlin." She hiccupped softly; her head swimming as she glanced up only to be teased by the warmth of the vision. God she was smelling his cologne now? She was losing it. But that scent, that heady scent of man, citrus and spice had her head swimming as warning bells began to shrill in her head. “Silly me, I thought he was different. Boy was I stupid huh Ghostie?”

His fingers drilled into her hair as the arrow hit home. God, he'd hurt her for no reason. No reason at all. Stupid fucking pride. She didn't deserve his fucked up ass. Maybe he should walk away now. She'd get over him, hell she was almost there. Just a little bit more and he'd be little more than a memory. "I know baby, I wasn't thinking. I wanted you too much." His whispered confession was far more than he'd wanted to give, but now that the words were out he felt a little better.

She rambled on, not even hearing him as the alcohol made her lips too loose. “Thought he saw the real me, but he didn’t noooo.. just a darlin, a one night fuck, something to get his rocks off with. Guess that makes sense if I had of known he was a rock star. But damn I’ve made his beliefs real trying to forget him, party every night, all the time. Just like he called me. I can do that, be a darlin, no one has to know how bad that hurts.” Her eyes closed as she struggled to take in a breath. “Why can’t I forget him huh?”

Richie twined his fingers around hers and dragged her back. "No, not darlin'. Elena. My Elena, never a darlin'." He cupped her face with his other hand. "Elena. I want my Elena back. I made a mistake. An awful mistake when I put you in the groupie slot. I swear it." He watched her weave, his words didn't seem to penetrate so he shook her. "I'm here, dammit, Elena. See me!"

Did ghosts shake you until your teeth rattled? She glanced up as a slight bit of ire flickered in dazed brown eyes. "Stop it. I ain’t no shaking post." The all too real strength of fingers holding her tight stopped her. "Damn Why do you feel soooo real?" She sighed softly and moved closer, her voice husky and low, "Wish what you were saying was real though, wish you were real."

"I promise I'm real. It took me awhile to get it, but I'm here." Frustrated at her obvious inebriation, Richie made himself step back before he hurt her. If he shook her anymore she'd end up leaving her brains on the floor. "Dammit, Elena. I want to try. I'm here begging to try again."

A soft smile flickered in her eyes, "I dreamed you'd say that too. Silly me." she stepped closer a slight waver to her steps as his words tried to sink in. "Try what again huh?" Maybe it was his warmth, the strength of his grasp, or maybe the chill breeze of the autumn night had finally began to clear the haze of too many nights drinking with no sleep, but suddenly his very prescence began to make the blood in her veins sing. "You ARE here?"

He lifted her hand and pressed it against his freshly shaven cheek. "I'm here."

Color blazed into her cheeks as anger simmered just under her skin. "Why? Couldn’t find a groupie tonight? I’m sure there’s plenty of them in the house. Just SMILE and call them Darlin. Brainless twits will eat it up. I sure did." She stepped back, her cheeks still flushed, "You want an easy lay? Yeah I know, I WAS easy wasn't I?" Her eyes began to glitter as the urge to pour a 5th down her throat screamed in her head. "I fucking need a drink."

Unprepared for the quick flight into rage, he braced himself for a slap, even wincing for it to come. But when all he saw was her heaving shoulders and the fire in her eyes he relaxed a little and grasped her fingers again. "You don't need a drink. You need to talk to me."

Haunted eyes searched his face. "Why? Talk about what huh? How monumentally stupid you were?? How fucking stupid I was?? I never gave a damn about who you were, you were just a really cute guy at the park I wanted to know. YOU used your fame against me dammit, ripped my soul to shreds with a few careless words. Drinking might not solve the problem, but at least it dulls that fucking ache I carry inside of me. I NEED a drink thank you kindly." Looking over at the door she saw a jock staggering out with a bottle and put her slender fingers to her lips and whistled to get his attention, "And I’ll dammit have one too."


"It was just one night! How was I supposed-" he stopped and dragged her around to look at him, waving off the jock. "How was I supposed to know how important it was? I couldn't know, baby. I couldn't know, Elena," driving home the sentence with her name. "I can't get you out of my mind. It's more than just a one nighter." he dragged her into him, pressing her cheek against his chest. "Much more."

A shiver ripped through her, as her body began to shake uncontrollably. "What made you realize that huh? What makes you think I'm strong enough to chance you doing it again?" Her eyes caught his and blazed with a heady mix of fury, fear and a need that ran bone deep. "How can I trust you won’t just get stupid again huh? How do I know you aren’t just here for a Darlin?"

"I'll earn it. I promise I will." He cupped her face, drawing her up to meet him in the briefest of kisses. Butterfly soft, with no heat...just the gentleness he needed to show her. The heat wanted to build. He could feel it low in his belly, but he forced himself to hold back.

Slender hands slipped up to wrap around his neck as she pressed closer to the heat that she’d missed for weeks. She couldn’t help herself for all her internal warnings. He was there; he had come and damn if he wasn’t acting like he had that night, gentle and real, no affected rock star persona. Can’t trust it just yet though, he might go stupid on me again. The hint of a true smile played on her face as she took a breath. "Just how do you think you can earn it? How can I believe your promises now?" Her mind began to whirl as his warmth and scent again soaked into her senses making her feel higher than the alcohol ever could. "Come on, tell me that one Richie.”

"I'm not letting you go again, Elena. If it takes me days, months, hell a year to convince you I will." The feel of her so small and soft against him, was too much. He dragged her in, fastening his lips over hers.

Chapter 35

Kate sat back in her chair, laid a hand on her stomach and closed her eyes. Please, God, she hoped she'd made the right decision.

Jon pushed himself off the wall. Her exhaustion was evident in the utter defeat that seemed to drive her lower into the overstuffed chair. Reaching out, he silently kneaded her shoulders taking her soft sigh as consent he slid his fingers along the tight muscles of her neck and back down along her slight shoulders. She even seemed smaller and more fragile from the last time he’d seen her. Her hair was falling out of a lopsided ponytail, so he tugged on the soft cloth rubber band.

When he heard the low moan, he had to ease away from the chair a bit to accommodate the swell of his cock. Her silky fire of her hair slid around his fingers, the curls twisted in golden hues of red and the richest mahogany. "You just saved his life Kate." His voice grew softer, as the scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils.

"Well at least I saved someone tonight," she muttered, and arched into his touch. As his fingers gentled into the nape of her neck and up into the base of her skull, she was tempted to find a little solace in his arms. It had only been a little over a week since she’d last found herself in his company, but the urge to curl into him was overwhelming.

He widened his massage, drawing the tension up and away from her even as he wanted to draw it back, just so he could start all over again. Touching this woman was all he’d been able to dream about most nights. How many nights had he woken with just this shade of red burned into his memory as it slid across his chest? The party scene was beginning to bore him and life on the road had its place, but each night at home…alone had been a study in madness. He could have any woman he wanted, but it was this one that haunted him. This one that he wanted. "Bad day at work, huh?"

The night’s horrors flashed into her head for a moment.

Frenzied shouts filled the ER. They’d gotten the call for multiple traumas, but the reality of it never matches up to what you prepare for. Paramedics rolled in patient after patient. As soon as a gurney was empty they were out looking for another.

“It was a fucking bus,” she heard Molly say.

“What?” Kate’s head swiveled to hear what was going on.

“Lucas told me it was a school bus colliding with a public transport bus.”

“Fuck,” she said and took the next trauma patient. Her fingers were rock steady as she listened to Stacy, one of her favorite medics, give the rundown of injuries. They’d stayed steady until the sweet little seven year old started slipping away from her.

Too small…too fragile…nothing she did helped. As useless as the innocent blood that wouldn’t stop pumping from her little body. The mother, holding her child closer, even as her little head lolled back, broken and lifeless. The little blond cap of curls crushed and matted with—

She shoved the memories back into the little corner she’d created her first year of med school and stood. "You don't want to hear about that, Sugar." His eyes met hers, kindness and lust swirling in the intriguing blue eyes. He didn’t belong in her world. His was a world of parties and laughter, a new city every night and a new woman in each city. She covered the beat of awareness with a stretch, letting the yawn pop her jaw.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn’t want to know." His eyes drifted down to the slashes of stains he probably didn’t want to know about. The hollowness to her eyes let him know that it was more than just blood and sweat. "Tell me about it,” he said quietly, reaching for her hand. Forcing a contact she might not be ready for, but taking the chance anyway. “I know a shit head who thought a bottle would erase demons once upon a time, believe me…talking is much better."

She searched his summer sky eyes, part of her wanted to let go…to lean. She opened her mouth and heard herself say, "Let me take a quick shower before I play hostess okay? I need to get those images out of my head for a few minutes." She twined a finger around his pinkie. "Thanks though."

Their fingers slowly detangled as he tucked his hands behind his head. He was pretty sure he’d used up his allotment of patience getting a record deal, but Kate was going to test him. "Go ahead, I'll just make myself at home here on the couch." He sat and sprawled out, contentedly watching her back her way into the bathroom.

She tried not to stare at the long, lean length of him taking up her couch. From the pointy toed boots to the skinny jeans that molded to him like a second skin, add in a comfortable t-shirt that made her think of lazy Sundays and she was toast. Dammit, she didn't have the time for a man like him. "I'll be back," she said and forced her eyes away from him.

He grinned, picturing her wiggling out of the shapeless scrubs. She was anything but shapeless…well, what he remembered of her was damn delicious. "Not going anywhere Katy. Enjoy that shower."

She hiked up the shirt as she headed for the bathroom, leaving a slice of warm, smooth back in her wake, before she shut the door. Jon let his head tip back, hoping he could get some of the blood flow back into the head on his shoulders. Even just a tiny bit of her porcelain skin was enough to—he groaned. Okay, time to think about something else.

If Kate was any indication of how rough the night was going to be, he might have to face a distraught guitarist in London. He wasn’t sure he could handle Richie falling back into the dark mood he’d been in for the last few weeks. Kate had been a hard sell with just Elena’s whereabouts, what kind of welcome was Richie going to get?

The sound of the shower drove him right back into the apartment and a memory of Kate’s body pressed against him that fateful morning. Damn what WAS it about her that had him so hot he couldn’t think straight?

He shook his head, but it was too late. Images of Kate on top of him, a flash of leg when she stole that blanket to hide herself, her near hysteria as they both realized they remembered nothing of the night before. He wanted her. It was as simple and as uncomplicated as it could get in his mind, but nothing seemed to be simple when it came to Kate.

He knew first impressions were important and he’d seriously screwed the pooch when it came to introducing himself. Cocky and drunk weren’t a great combo, but he’d certainly gone out of his way to show her that guy wasn’t the real deal. All he knew was he wanted to be around her. Even when she blasted him with that icy disdain, he wanted more of her. Unsure if that was the definition of masochism he set that unruly thought aside and recrossed his ankles.

Kate came back into the room, uneasily pleased that he was still lounging on her furniture. She tugged at the men’s boxer shorts and tank-top she slept in, wondering if she should rethink the outfit, but too tired to actually care she dropped onto her favorite chair and sipped at her beer again. "Hey."

"Hey there yourself," he said and swung his legs around until he was sitting forward, closer to her. "Now you look more like the Kate I remember."

"I don’t think you've seen me in my pj's, Sugar. In fact, my Mama would be horrified that I even came out in this outfit but my brain hurts too much to be polite tonight."

"Well what Mama don’t know won't hurt her…besides I LIKE this look on you.” He tugged at the low ponytail she’d pulled her wet hair into. “What’s goin’ on, Katy? I mean, yeah you are doing those insane shifts you talked about a couple weeks ago, but I get a feeling there’s more to it?" Jon studied her quietly a moment, "What's really wearing you down?"

She looked away from the easy comfort he was offering. Keeping her gaze on her beer, she peeled at the label. "Some nights are just a little harder than others, Jon.” She looked up quickly, smiling as much as she could manage. “Nothing that needs to be in your head. No one should have to see what I saw tonight."

He stood, taking the option away from her he quickly climbed behind her, opened his legs and settled her back against him. He folded an arm around her shoulders, holding onto the soft skin that curved from the sleeveless shirt. She was soft and fresh, practically vibrating with nerves as he curled her into him. "Talk to me, Katy. What do you have to lose?"

She let her head tip back, every muscle worked against his calming touch. But when he didn’t take it any farther she finally let herself ease into him. "I lost one tonight," she said with a trembly sigh. "Sometimes it's not so bad, but when you lose one at the end of the night, it just sticks." Especially when it was a kid, she finished silently.

“Oh baby,” he sighed, pulling her closer. "I’m sure you did all you could.” When she resisted a little, he kept the pressure even and easy, but not letting her go.

Her shoulders stiffened. She didn't want it to feel good, she didn't want him to take care of her, but when the first tear plopped on her hand she just sighed. "No one should have to die like that," she said brokenly. “She was so…” she sucked back the words. No, he didn’t need to know it was a kid. It was enough that she knew. Enough that she had to live with it.

He slipped his other arm around her middle, lowering his legs until she was curled into only him. He turned her in his arms, dying a little inside as her tears dripped down his neck. "C’mon let it out, Katy."

She tried not to. She tried to be strong, but his shoulders looked far too inviting. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her cheek against the worn suede of his jacket and let the tears come. She usually saved her crying jags for the shower where no one could hear her, but it felt so good to be held.

He held her tight, her body feeling so right in his arms and let her cry the hurt away. "It’ll be ok Katy.” The storm of a strong woman’s tears tore him down to the basest of emotions. He wanted to take every bit of the pain away.

When she finally lifted her head, the soft curls of his hair brushed against her nose. The heady mix of man, musk and cigarettes surrounded her, easing her in a way she hadn’t felt since...Well, it had been too long to even compare. She looked down at his shoulder to distract herself from the need to bury her nose deeper into his neck and see just how good he smelled at the long curve of corded nerves. "Shit, I ruined your jacket," she said in a voice still watery with tears.

"What this old thing? Don’t you worry about it,” he rubbed her back in long, slow strokes. “It’s just a coat." He smiled at her reassuringly, "Feeling a bit better?"

She sniffed and laughed. "Yeah, sorry I dumped all that on you.” She eased back, surprised when he didn’t let go, returning to the comfort of his arms for another moment. “Most of it was my patient, but a lot of that was Elena too. She's got me worried and I've been surviving on little to no sleep...and well, you got the brunt end of that deal." She detangled herself with a tiny twinge of regret and stood to grab a tissue. She blew her nose softly and dabbed at her eyes. "Lucky you," she said with a half-laugh.

He flashed a mega watt smile her way. "Anytime," he said, suddenly meaning that completely. "I understand your worry about Elena, though.” He sighed, draping his hands over the chair arms. “Hell, Richie's been drowning in a bottle since she left. I’m not sure he’s even been able to sleep in his room." He tried to keep his tone light, but even he could hear the concern there. Nights spent awake listening to a friend’s voice cursing the four walls didn’t need to be shared, even if it was for bonding purposes. "How is she doing though? You said she was at a party.” His eyebrow quirked. “Kinda thought that meant she was doing ok."

Part of her wanted to hold back. She wasn't used to sharing with anyone...wasn't good at sharing really. "Well, to everyone around her she looks like the life of the party. To me, she's just partying harder to forget him. I hate that he did this to her. Hate that he left her like this," she said harshly.

Jon sighed, his fingers digging into the cushioned folds. "I don't blame ya Katy, but to be honest, I don't know what happened. The only thing I can tell you is that he’s not better off. He been drinking every moment he’s awake, won’t sleep in his room…hell he’s always been able to lose himself in the music and he’s even lost that." His voice grew softer, "I tried talking to him and nothing seemed to help." He wanted to explain more, but wasn't sure how to, or what it could do to allay her anger. "He was in bad shape Kate, regret ate at him and he took the bottle as his way out."

She slid a hand over his, understanding loyalty and wanting to make things better. "I understand. Seems like the two of them are made for each other. Elena's doing almost the same thing." She sighed and stood again, not sure where to put herself. "Want a beer?"

He smiled as he stood. "Sure, thanks."

She popped the tops on two more Corona's, stuffing lime in both longnecks. "You wanna watch a movie or something to kill the time before they get back?" She handed him a beer and licked lime juice off the pad of her thumb.

He took the beer, his eyes dropping to the innocent flick of her tongue. He quickly lifted the beer to his lips, but it was too late. The crisp hops were no replacement for that mouth. "A movie sounds good,” he took another deep swallow covering the groan with a gulp when she did the same. The way her tongue dipped into the bottle, savoring the lime had his cock so hard and at the ready, he shrugged out of his coat and folded it over his arm to hide his problem. “Uh,” he cleared his throat. She wasn’t looking for a hook up tonight, no matter how much he wanted it. “We can both relax a bit."

She stood, “Let me take your jacket.” He tried to keep it close, but she tugged it away. “C’mon, it’s going to be awhile and it’s hot as hell in here.”

He rose, tugging at his t-shirt and smiling. "So what’s the movie?" he called out.

She padded back into the living room. "I've got National Lampoon's European Vacation," she flicked through video-tapes, "The Goonies, or Rambo 2."

His first instinct was to go for the Rambo flick. Like all men, he liked action movies and hadn’t had the time to see the newest installation in the Stallone arsenal, but he thought of the blood and shook his head. He was absolutely sure she’d had enough of that tonight. "How about, Vacation? If it’s got Chase in it, it’s gotta be good for a laugh or two at least."
She loaded the VCR and dropped onto the couch next to him. About fifteen minutes into the movie her body was slanting toward his and she welcomed the way he hauled her in and settled her against his chest. Five minutes later she only heard the voices of the movie and finally nothing.

Sleep crept in as he breathed in the scent of soap and a warm woman. To hold a woman with no other motive but comfort was a new thing for him. He smiled, it didn’t seem so bad at all.