Online

The End

2010-05-24T10:00:00.003-04:00

No, gentle reader, this is not where I’m ending the story. I thought about it, just to be mean, to let you draw your own conclusions, but decided that I’m not quite done with you or this story yet.

No, I have a treat for you…. Well for some of you.

You see, this story has two possible outcomes, as you may surmise; one good, one not so much. I’ve explored both.

I’m trusting you, gentle reader, to do the noble thing; to read BOTH endings. After all, I toiled over each and every word in the original ending as well as in the alternate one, and they BOTH deserve to be read.

I warn you right now, I liked the original ending SO much that I considered not writing the second one. But, you see, my devoted, many of you begged me to please give Richie his Happily Ever After, and I couldn’t ignore you.

Oh dear.

I have said too much ~ I may have given too much away.

Ah well, you can’t un-ring a bell, as my Mama likes to say.

Please, do me a favor, read both endings.

And do me one more, and tell me honestly, which one you think was better written. Not which one you liked better, but which one you thought moved you more.

I know which one did it for me.

And now, gentle reader:

The End (Original Ending) The End (Alternate Ending)

Takeoff

2010-05-17T10:00:00.000-04:00

Jennifer sat on the plane, iPod turned on, and her eyes closed. She had listened diligently to the emergency procedure spiel the flight attendant gave, and studied the card in the seat pocket in front of her. Now she sat, her knee bouncing slightly, and her hands washing each other in her lap. They were second in line for takeoff, and now all she could do was wait.

She did without the Xanax that usually accompanied her on airline trips, because she wanted to be all there when she got to LA. She still couldn’t believe she was moving in with Richie! And, if the hints he was leaving were right, he was going to ask her to marry him. She couldn’t wait to land.

The revving of the engines permeated through Richie’s voice singing Stranger, and she dialed up the iPod’s volume. The plane picked up speed, and Jennifer was thrown back against her seat. She made a small moan in her throat when she felt the plane lurch into the air, and gripped the hand rests like they were her lifeline. Her eyes squeezed firmly shut, and a tear trickled from the corner of one of them. She made a decision then. She wasn’t flying anymore. This was it. If she had to go back to Boston, she’d drive or take a cross-country train. No more planes. Her heart couldn’t take it.

Jennifer waited for the ear popping to tell her they had ascended high enough to level off. She frowned when it didn’t come. Suddenly, she felt the plane shudder. She opened her eyes, popped out her ear buds, and turned to the man sitting next to her. He had his eyes glued out the window, and she could see the reflection of his face and the look of terror etched there.

“The engines,” the man whispered. “Oh my God, the engines are smoking.”

Without conscious thought, Jennifer took out her blackberry, and dialed Richie’s cell. It went to voicemail, as it was only three in the morning where he was. “Baby, it’s me,” she said, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. “We’ll probably laugh about this later, but something seems to be wrong with the engines, and I just wanted to tell you that I love you and whatever you wanted to ask me when you see me, the answer is a big ol’ YES!” She chuckled. “I’m gonna get yelled at by the stewardess if she sees me, so I gotta go. I love you more than my own life, Rich, and I can’t wait to see you. Bye!” She hurriedly turned off the device and put it back in her purse.

A loud bang sounded from outside the plane. Jennifer sobbed and tried to resist, but ultimately she couldn’t help it; she leaned over to look out the window. One of the engines on her wing was gone, and with it, a good chunk of the wing itself. The other engine was engulfed in flames. She stifled a scream, but didn’t do a good job of it, because the people on the other side of the plane started to panic.

The flight attendant made an announcement in a shaky voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing some trouble with the aircraft. As a precaution, please put on your oxygen masks, stay in your seats, and try to stay calm.”

On cue, oxygen masks fell from the ceiling. With a frantic rustle of clothes, and loud, scared voices, the passengers began putting on their masks. One woman across the aisle and three seats up couldn’t get her mask on, and her voice was getting very shrill as she begged someone to help her. Jennifer’s hands were shaking when she pulled her own mask on over her nose and mouth, and she breathed the cool, sterile air deep into her lungs. The conversation on the plane was getting louder and louder, and the snatches of dialogue Jennifer heard made her wish she was deaf. The man next to her commented, “What the hell was she thinking? Stay calm. Doesn’t she know the worst thing you can do in an emergency is tell people to stay calm!” His voice rose with each word, so by the end he was shouting.

The plane took a sharp turn to starboard, and Jennifer screamed. Others did too. Children began crying, and the woman behind her started praying.

The man next to her tried to talk himself out of his fear. "It's okay,” he said; his voice muffled by the mask he wore. “I’m sure they can land the plane on just two engines."

Jennifer gave him a sickly smile, but still felt dread in the pit of her stomach. The plane continued to shudder, and the pilot couldn’t seem to get it to straighten out. Jennifer felt the plane start to roll. With tears streaming down her face, she watched out the window as the ground drew ever closer.

In what seemed to take an hour but was really only seconds, Jennifer’s life with Richie flashed before her eyes. She saw their meeting in Southampton, the first time they made love, taking day trips with Ava; being a real family. She also remembered the last time they made love, and cried harder when she realized it would truly be the last time. There would be no more quiet, seductive laughter in her ear. No more caresses from those long, strong fingers. No more magic kisses.

What hurt the most is that she wouldn’t ever know the joy of carrying Richie’s baby inside her. She would never feel his big hand over her distended abdomen, reveling in the joy of a tiny kick. The tears flowed more relentlessly when she reflected that she would never get motherhood advice from her own mother.

Her thoughts were jarred back to the present the instant the jagged edge of the wing hit the grass. The plane levered up and flipped upside down, hitting the ground with a crash that was heard for miles. That was the last thing Jennifer heard.

Taking Care of Business

2010-05-10T10:00:00.000-04:00

The next several weeks went by in a whirlwind of activity. Jennifer gave her notice at work in early November, citing her last day as December first. She worked with her boss to find a suitable replacement, and had Margot trained on everything she could think of within a couple of weeks. Margot had been in the business for more than a decade, and was a quick study. She made Jennifer feel much more relaxed about her decision to leave.

Evenings and weekends, her family and friends helped her pack up the house. She had decided not to sell her house. She loved it too much, and she and Richie would have a second home – not a condo – on the East coast for when they came to visit her family. Her cadre of packers worked from room to room, closing up vents, pulling blinds and shades, and draping furniture with sheets.

Richie called every day, asking if she was sure if she didn’t want him to fly out to help her.

“Rich,” she had told him each time, “I need this time to say good bye. I need to be around my family and friends, and they need to help me with this. It’s not that I don’t want you here, it’s that I need to do this my way, to say my goodbyes and close the door on this chapter of my life.”

“I know, I just miss you.”

“I miss you too. Make a list of all the ways you can show me just how much, and we’ll get started on it as soon as I land.”

“Oh really?” Richie laughed.

“Yes, really,” Jen answered.

The last week before her flight to LA, she was done with work, and spent time with her parents. They told her that as long as she was happy, they were happy for her, it didn’t matter where she lived.

“You’ll just have to come back to visit,” Ma said, “because you know your father and airplanes.”

“Flying is unnatural for people,” John groused.

Jennifer laughed. “I know, Daddy,” she said, kissing his cheek. “We’ll come back and visit often. I’m not selling the house, so we’ll always have someplace to come.” She hugged her mom. “And Ma, you can always come out without Daddy, you know. We’ll have a room for you, no problem.”

“Far away from yours I hope,” Ma answered with a twinkle in her eye. “There are some things a mother does not want to know about her daughter.”

“Ma!” Jennifer complained. “ I can’t believe you just said that!” She was blushing furiously.

“What, I’m old, not dead. I remember a thing or two about being young and in love. So, when are you getting married?”

Jennifer laughed. “I don’t know. Richie’s been hinting about it, asking me what kinds of flowers I like, and even Ava’s asked me what my dream wedding would be like. I think he’s got something planned, but I’m just taking one day at a time. If it happens, it happens.”

“It’ll happen,” Ma said. “Mark my words. You sure you don’t need a ride to the airport?”

“I’m sure,” Jen answered. “Cheryl, Steph, and Gail are coming in to help with the final few boxes for the van, and they’ll take me. It’s hard enough saying goodbye here, I don’t want to be wreck at the airport.”

“If you change your mind,” John said, “you know you can always call us.” His gaze told her volumes more than the words he spoke.

“I know, Daddy,” Jennifer said softly. “But I think that this is for keeps. Rich and I really love each other and want this to work.”

“Just know that I will get on a plane with your mother to come and collect you if you need us to. I love you, my girl.”

“Love you too, Daddy.”

The three Petruzzos shared a hug, then Jennifer had to go and collect her friends from the airport.

The last two days before her flight, Jennifer had packed nearly everything she wanted to take, and her and her girlfriends had the van packed full. Her brother had come to take the Caddy, and the Harley was going with her to LA.

“I think that’s it,” Jennifer said, dusting off her palms. “I still can’t believe I’m moving to LA.”

“I think it’s wonderful, honey,” Gail said, hugging her friend. “You and Richie are going to be deliriously happy.”

“I hope so,” Jen answered.

Cheryl cuffed her on the back of her head. “Not ‘hope so’, ‘know so’. Come on, Jen, be honest.”

“Okay,” Jen said, smiling, “yeah, we’ll be happy. I can’t imagine what I’m going to do with myself out there though.”

“Gee,” Steph said, “a leggy blonde with big boobs in LA. You could always become an actress.”

That had the girls laughing hysterically. “Yeah, like I’d be good for anything other than porn. No thanks. I’m a lousy actress, and other than writing it, porn has no appeal to me.”

“Not when you have your own Hairy Longfellow at home,” Gail snorted.

Cheryl, “I’m sure you’ll find something to do. If I were in your shoes, I’d spend all my time with Richie.”

“Yeah, but what about when they go back out on the road? I can’t follow them all over the world.” Jen worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

“Why not?” Steph asked. “You have money; why not use some of it on yourself?”

“Yeah,” Gail said. “Spend a little coin on your own happiness. Unless you think that it would be boring.”

“Touring the world with Rich? Boring? Never,” Jen said with a wink. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Remind me: what time is your flight on Saturday?” Steph said.

“5:45 AM. Don’t give me grief, I wanted to get out there as early as possible, and this was the earliest flight. Besides, the early morning flights to the West coast are the safest, and the least crowded.”

In deference to the early flight, the girls elected to go out and celebrate Jen’s new life on Thursday night, gathering for ribs-n-ritas a day later than usual. Over pitchers of margaritas, racks of ribs, and over the sound of the local blues band in the background, the girls all toasted Jen’s new life, and demanded to be invited to the wedding.

“Of course you’re all invited,” Jennifer promised. “Hell, you’ll all be bridesmaids if I have my way.”

Krissy snorted. “When have you ever not gotten your way?”

Jen laughed. “Well, you do have a point.”

Friday night, Jennifer sent the van off on its cross-country journey. Once it had cleared the gates, she went back inside and spied the stack of suitcases by the front door. “This is really happening,” she said to herself.

Her house phone rang, and Jennifer snatched the receiver off the hall table before one of the girls could get it. “Hello?”

“Darlin’, you aren’t answering your cell,” Richie said. “How come?”

Jen laughed. “Baby, it’s up on the nightstand, charging. I wanted to make sure it had full battery for the flight tomorrow. I can’t believe that at this time tomorrow, I’ll be with you.”

“Sooner than that, love. By this time tomorrow, I hope to have you naked in my bed.”

“Well, I do believe that can be arranged, sir,” Jennifer said, strolling into the living room and settling on the couch. She and the girls had laid a fire earlier, and Jen blushed, remembering the last time a fire was lit in the fireplace. “So, I’m sitting in the living room, in front of the fire.”

“In front of, or inside of?”

“No,” Jennifer laughed, “it isn’t quite that cold yet, that I have to take refuge inside the fireplace.”

“Here in LA, it never gets that cold.”

“Baby, you don’t have to sell me on coming out there; the truck just left with all my stuff. It should be there sometime Saturday night. Like we arranged, they’ll leave the truck, and come back when you call after we get it emptied out.”

“Excellent,” Richie said. “I can’t wait to have your things mingled in with my things.” He chuckled dirtily.

“Rich, you have a knack of making the most innocent of statements sound raunchy.”

Richie sighed dramatically. “It is both a blessing and a curse.” He laughed. “So what are you girls doing tonight?”

“Well, we got all our carousing out of our systems last night; I think we’re just going to hang out and watch movies. I know I’m not going to sleep, I’m too damned excited. I can’t wait to see you.”

“I can’t wait to see you either. I’ll be at the airport waiting.”

“I love you, Rich.”

“Love you too.”

They spoke for a while longer, long enough for the fire to dwindle to embers, then Jennifer and the girls retired to the movie room. After long hours laughing at brat-pack80’s flicks, they went to bed to catch a few hours’ sleep.

Saturday would be a long day.

Richie and Ava

2010-05-03T10:00:00.000-04:00

Richie wasn’t stupid. OK, sure, he’d done some stupid things, but he knew a good thing when he saw it. Watching Jennifer with Ava on Saturday, and their surprise “family outing” to San Francisco yesterday, just solidified it in his head. He wanted Jennifer to be a permanent part of their lives. Sunday, when he was taking Ava back to her mother’s he found that she wanted it, too.

“I think it’s cool that Jennifer can stay another week,” Ava had said.

“Yeah,” Richie agreed. “It’s great. She didn’t want you to be sad that you didn’t get to do that Universal thing.”

Ava just gave him a look that was pure grown-up and had his stomach in knots. “Daddy, that’s not really why she’s staying.”

Richie just raised an eyebrow at his precocious daughter. “Oh really?” he asked. “And in your infinite wisdom why, pray tell, exactly is she staying another week?”

Ava laughed. “Because she loves us, silly. She loves us and she WANTS to stay longer.”

Richie thought on that for a moment and chuckled. Out of the mouths of babes... “You may just be right, baby girl. How do you feel about that?”

Ava was quiet for several long moments. “I think it’s great that she wants to stay for a while longer,” she finally said. “She’s nice and I like her a lot, and you’re much smilier when she’s here, and I REALLY like that.”

Richie grinned. “I feel a whole lot smilier when she’s here,” he said. “Ava, baby, I need to ask you something,” he started. “Something serious.” He pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned to face his daughter.

“Daddy, I’m always serious,” Ava answered.

Richie smiled. “I know, sweetheart. I know you’re happy that Jennifer is staying a little longer; how would you feel if I asked Jennifer to live out here all the time?”

“You mean move in with us? In our house?”

“Yeah,” Richie said.

“Are you going to marry her?”

Richie shook his head. “I don’t know if we’re going to get married or not,” he said. “She’s been married before and her husband was, well, not too nice. I don’t know if she wants to do that all again.”

Ava frowned. “But Daddy, YOU’RE nice,” she said.

“Well thank you very much,” Richie answered, smiling. “But first things first, okay? Let’ s see if she wants to move out here.”

Ava nodded and looked out the window. “What if she says ‘no’?” she said softly.

Richie put his hand on Ava’s shoulder. “Then I guess she and I will keep flying back and forth across the country to see each other.”

Ava turned back to her father. “Would you move to Boston?”

Richie thought about that. He purchased the condo in Philly to have a home base when he was on the east coast. He never intended to live out there full time. He couldn’t leave Ava like that on a permanent basis. It was difficult enough when he was on the road, he didn’t want to make a conscious decision to put distance between himself and his daughter.

“No,” he said finally, “I wouldn’t. Not unless your Mom was relocating back east.”

“But what if Jennifer makes you?”

“She’s not going to do that,” Richie said firmly.

“But what if she does?” Ava was more adamant.

Richie sighed. “Then I guess she isn’t the woman I thought she was,” he said, “and that would make me really sad.”

“But what would you do?”

Richie looked at his daughter. “What’s going on here?” he asked. “I can tell there’s more to this question, but let me answer yours first. Nothing in this world is more important to me than you. Not Jennifer, not your mother, not Uncle Jon or the other guys, nothing. You are the most important thing there is to me, and I would move Heaven and Earth to make you happy. If Jennifer made me choose between living with her in Boston or staying here with you, then it’s a no-brainer. I choose you. Always you.”

Ava launched herself across the seat into her father’s arms. “I knew it,” she said triumphantly. “I heard Jack telling Mommy that now that you had Jennifer, you were probably going to move away and they wouldn’t have to talk to you about stuff, and I would hardly see you anymore.”

Richie was livid, but tried to keep it to himself. “Really,” he said as evenly as possible. “What did Mommy say about that?”

Ava laughed. “She told him: if you think that he would move across the country for THAT woman, you need your head examined.” Her mimicry of her mother’s tone was impeccable, and Richie’s blood ran cold.

“Well,” he said, “she’s right that I wouldn’t move away from you forever like that. When you’re older and have your own life, well, that’s different. Right now, you’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

“I’m so glad,” she said, hugging her father tight. “Then if you want to ask her to move here, that’s okay with me.”

“I’m so happy you think that. Listen, if we’re going to ask her to be part of our lives out here, she needs more reason that it makes me happy. I, we, have to think about what makes her happy, too.”

Ava nodded. “Yeah, I know. We have to think about each others’ feelings – that’s what families do.”

They spent some minutes in silence as Richie digested Ava’s words. Family. She thought of them as a family. Sure, they were dysfunctional and a little unconventional, but hell, by LA standards, they were practically the Cleavers. Family. He sure did like the sound of that...

When they got to Heather’s house, Ava ran upstairs to her room, and Richie stayed for a couple minutes to talk to his ex-wife. He told her what Ava had overheard, and told her that he was asking Jennifer to move to California to be with him. Richie also told her that he didn’t think Ava should overhear conversations like that again, and turned to leave without another word. Heather stopped him, and wished him luck. He searched her face, but didn’t see any malice or sarcasm there. He muttered thanks, and left.

Monday morning, Jennifer was up early, still not used to the time change. She and Richie had stayed up until the wee hours making love, so she should be exhausted and sleeping soundly, like the man next to her. He was sleeping too soundly. She poked at his ribs, and all he did was snort and turn his head, and the snoring continued. She sighed and got up, padded to the desk in the corner, and got onto the boards.

Things had been quiet for some time – guess that’s what happened when the board you’re on is connected to a group that isn’t presently touring. She saw that Stephanie was on, and chatted with her a little. Soon, though, Richie noticed she was up and came to find her.

“Why are you up so early?” he asked. “Are you working already?”

“No,” Jennifer said, tilting her head back for a mind-numbing kiss. “Just checking in with the girls. The few who are still around.”

“Come back to bed,” he said. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I’m sure you will,” Jennifer said, closing her laptop. She let Richie lead her back to the edge of the bed. He scooped her up into his arms and placed her gently near the center of the bed. He crawled up after her and slid up between her legs and into her. He smiled when her legs went up of their own accord, spreading wider to take him deeper. She wrapped one around his hips, and the other wouldn’t quite cooperate, so she left it raised. Richie kissed her then, a deep lingering kiss that spoke of unspoken promises of love and devotion.

When they crested it was together, each crying out the name of the other. When Richie slipped from Jennifer’s body, spent and sated, she whined. He chuckled and gathered her to him, cradling her against his chest. Soon, they were drifting off together.
Later that morning, Jennifer woke again, and again Richie was snoring. She chuckled to herself. She took a quick shower and brought her laptop with her when she went down to the kitchen, where she snagged a diet coke before heading into the office. She called in to work and made sure that there wasn’t anything that she needed to deal with personally. Even though she was on unpaid leave, she knew it wasn’t smart to leave them hanging too long, at least until she had made her final decision about what she wanted to do.

Around lunchtime, Richie came downstairs, clean shaven, and dry-haired.

“Whatcha been doing?” Jennifer asked.

Richie crossed the room to give her a kiss that left her breathless. “I took a shower and fucked around with my guitar for a while,” he answered. How ‘bout you?”

“Played around on the computer for a bit, read for a while; I was just going to come and wake your ass up!”

“Ha ha, beat ya to it. How’s work?”

“It’s work,” she said, closing her laptop. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“What do you want to do? Ava’s in school; we’ll see her tonight if you want.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “We have all day to play if you want.”

Jennifer laughed. “Of course I want,” she said, “but we’ve gotta do more than spend all our time together in bed.”

Richie grinned. “Spoil-sport. Fine, then you have to plan the agenda.”

“Fine. I wanna go swim in the ocean.”

“That can be arranged. Let’s get a move on, then.”

They spent the day frolicking in the waves and sunning themselves on the beach. Quite a few people recognized Richie and approached for autographs or to take a picture with him. More than one gave Jennifer the hairy eyeball as she sat on their blanket and waited patiently. They had a seaside dinner and picked up Ava from Heather’s. When the girl saw Jennifer with her father, she grinned widely.

“Did you ask her to stay?” Ava said excitedly as they walked to the car. “Is she gonna?”

Jennifer looked over Ava’s head at Richie, and raised an eyebrow. Richie groaned. “No, baby girl, I hadn’t asked her yet. I think you just did.” He looked at Jen. “We can talk about it later,” he said.

‘Later’ couldn’t come fast enough. Jennifer was distracted all evening, though she tried really hard not to let Ava notice. When they finally dropped her back at her mother’s and were on the way back, Richie pulled in to a mostly-deserted parking lot and shut the car off.

“Listen, about what Ava said,” Richie started.

Jennifer interrupted. “She was asking if I was going to move here, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Richie sighed. “Sorry about putting you on the spot like that.”

“She did take me by surprise,” Jennifer admitted. “Especially since you haven’t even hinted at the possibility. Is this something that SHE wants, or that YOU want?” Jennifer held her breath, waiting for the answer.

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you’d want to,” Richie said softly. “I mean you have your job and your family and friends and I didn’t want you to feel like you HAD to.” He took Jennifer’s hands. “But I would love it if you would consider it. If you’d consider coming to live with me. And Ava when she’s at my house. I would really, really love it.”

Jennifer sucked in deep breath and let it out slowly. “I would love it too.”

Meeting Denise and Lucia

2010-04-26T10:00:00.001-04:00

Saturday morning, Jennifer and Richie were woken by Ava storming into their room. “Daddy! Jennifer! It’s Saturday!”

Richie rolled over and groaned. “Baby girl, it is way too early to be up.” He covered his head with a pillow. Jennifer laughed and poked his ribs.

“C’mere, Sundrop,” Jennifer said, raising the covers to let Ava come in. The little girl climbed in and crawled across Jennifer to lie between the two adults. She started chattering to Jennifer about the things she wanted to do this weekend, knowing that Jennifer was flying home on Friday.

A few minutes into her recitation, she started to giggle. “Daddy’s snoring,” she whispered loudly, making Jennifer chuckle.

Putting a finger to her lips, Jennifer slid out of bed. Ava followed. The two girls grabbed pillows and circled around to Richie’s side of the bed. Jennifer held up three fingers and started a countdown. When she got to one, they attacked, Ava going for the face, Jennifer for the stomach.

“OOF!” Richie grunted, then counter-attacked. He grabbed his daughter and flung her onto the bed, shrieking and giggling the whole way. Jennifer took a step backwards.

“Don’t you DARE,” she said, holding up her hands in front of her.

“Don’t make me chase you, woman,” Richie growled.

“No! Don’t chase me,” Jennifer said, gasping with laughter. “I can’t run.”

“Not my problem,” Richie said, and leapt from the bed. Jennifer did the best she could, but her hobbling was no match for Richie’s stride. He scooped her up and dropped her on the bed next to Ava. He grabbed the covers and brought them up over the girls’ heads.

“DADDY! NO!” Ava yelled. “Block your nose,” she said to Jennifer.

Richie burst out laughing. “Young lady, I am not going to fart on you,” he said.

Jennifer laughed so hard, tears streamed down her face. “Oh God, you don’t do that to your own daughter, do you?” She turned to Ava. “Does he?”

She nodded solemnly. “Yep, he does when he thinks he’s being funny.” She wrinkled her nose. “It really stinks.”

“ENOUGH!” Richie bellowed, sending Ava and Jen into a fit of giggles. “Why are you up so early, young lady?”

Jennifer answered. “Because your daughter woke me up.”

“Not you,” Richie said, exasperated.

“Are you calling me old?” Jennifer said, putting on a pout.

Richie rolled his eyes. “Cut the crap, you’re younger than me.”

Ava was laughing and wiping tears from her eyes. “You’re funny, Jen; you make daddy crazy.”

“Of course I do,” Jennifer agreed. “It’s fun.”

Richie looked at Jen with eyes that darkened briefly with lust. “You sure do drive me crazy,” he said with a rumble that went straight to Jennifer’s core. He slapped Jennifer’s butt and she squeaked. “C’mon, girls,” he said. “As long as we’re up, we may as well have breakfast.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Around noon, they plugged Denise’s address into the GPS, and saw she was only about twenty minutes away. The route the GPS selected brought them by Universal Studios. “Can we go to Universal tonight?” Ava asked as they passed the theme park.

Richie groaned. “Really? Tonight?”

Ava nodded enthusiastically. “They have this horror thing where the backlot is set up like a haunted house kind of thing. There’s this burned looking guy with knives on his hands, and a guy with a leather mask, and some hockey mask guy…”

Jennifer laughed. “Freddy, Michael, and Jason,” she said. “The three bad boys of horror. Really, though, you like that kind of thing?”

Ava nodded. “I love horror movies and scary books and stuff like that.” She turned her eyes on her father. “Pleeeease, Daddy?”

Richie looked at Jennifer, who just shrugged. “We’ll see if we can get tickets,” Richie said shaking his head. “Her mother is gonna kill me,” he muttered under his breath.

They pulled up in front of a typical San Fernando Valley one-story home in Studio City. As they were parking, the front door opened, and a woman came out, smiling hugely. “Hath, darlin’, you made it!” she called as she came down the steps.

“Who’s ‘Hath’?” Ava asked as they walked up to the house.

“I am,” Jennifer said. “It’s the fake name I use when I go online. Denise!” she called as they approached. The two women embraced. “Denise, this is Richie and Ava Sambora. Rich, Ava, my friend, Denise.”

Richie took Denise’s hand and leaned in to kiss her cheek. With a sidelong glance to make sure Ava wasn’t paying attention, he nuzzled her neck. “Nice to finally meet you,” he said, his eyes crinkling when he smiled.

“Likewise,” Denise said. “Come on in. Steve’s out back, and Lucia and Jeff should be here any minute.”

Denise led them through the house and out back. They had a large yard with a lush grassy area on one side and a sparkling pool on the other. The clear water looked very inviting, and the grass felt soft enough to run barefoot in.

“Hey there!” a masculine voice called from a lounge chair. Denise’s husband unfolded himself from the chair and approached, a warm smile splitting his face.

“You must be Steve,” Jennifer said, as he came to stand next to his wife. “Thanks for having us,” Jennifer said as he shook hands with her and Richie.

“Any friend of Denise’s is welcome.” He looked at Ava. “Well hello,” he said. “I’m Steve.” He held out his hand for Ava to take. “I have students about your age,” he said. “Are you crazy into sports like they are?”

Ava smiled. “Only if they’re highly competitive.”

The five of them settled down with plates of fruit and cheese and cold lemonade and got to know each other. After a short while, a voice called out across the yard. “Hell-o-o-o-o-o…”

“LUCIA!” Denise called. “BACK HERE!”

“Well of course you’re back here. Is that their car?” she asked, then stopped dead at the sight of Richie sitting there. Jeff crashed into her.

“Keep moving, babe,” he said, “and for God’s sake, pick up your tongue.” He rolled his eyes at her and shouldered past her.

Jennifer did a double-take. Lucia’s friend Jeff was almost a dead-ringer for Jon. Jeff was a bit taller, and more barrel-chested, but he had the These Days hair and the same piercing blue eyes and chiseled jaw. Jennifer looked at Denise and winked. “Wow,” she mouthed, making Denise laugh and Richie scowl. More introductions were made, more lemonade poured, and soon, Ava got bored with the adult conversation and began casting longing glances at the pool.

“Honey,” Denise said. “As long as you can swim, you’re welcome to the pool.”

Ava looked pleadingly at her father, who laughed. “Go,” he said.

“Daddy, come swim with me,” she said.

Richie looked apologetically at the others. “Go on,” Jennifer said. “We’ll be fine.” Richie dropped a slightly lingering kiss on Jen’s lips before running off after his daughter.

“Go away,” Denise said to her husband after Richie had left, leaving Jennifer touching her lips and watching him go. “We girls need to dish.”

Steve sighed and clapped a hand on Jeff’s back. “Come on, man, let’s grab a couple of beers.”

When they were gone, Denise took Jennifer’s hand. “Well how’d the meeting go yesterday?”

“Much better than I expected,” Jennifer said, knowing exactly what Denise was talking about. “Heather really was quite nice. I like her.”

A loud splash followed by joyous laughter drew the women’s attention to the pool. “Hey,” Ava called. “Jennifer, are you gonna swim with us?”

Denise smiled. “Go ahead, Jennifer. Go swim with your family.” Jen shot a surprised look at Denise, who just nodded knowingly, then went to join Richie and Ava.

After an afternoon of sun, swimming, and laughter, the men gathered around the barbecue to get dinner going. The women and Ava shucked countless ears of corn and wrapped potatoes with pats of butter in little foil pouches. Ava was the runner, bringing things to the men when they called for them, and helped Denise make a huge salad while Jennifer and Lucia mixed a giant pitcher of Sangria with a good, local red wine and slices of oranges, lemons, and peaches floating in it.

After dinner and cleanup, Steve lit a fire in the outdoor fireplace, and they sat around in comfortable patio furniture sipping their respective drinks and talking comfortably with each other. All too soon, Ava, who was laying on a thickly padded wicker sofa, started to drift off. Jennifer crossed the patio and scooped the little girl into her arms then settled with her on her lap. “Sundrop, you wanna go?” Jennifer whispered in her ear.

Ava nodded. “I wanna go to Universal before you go home though,” she said. “I wanna show you a lot of things before you have to go.” Her voice was getting fainter. “Maybe if there are enough things you like here, you’ll stay…”

Jennifer’s heart caught in her throat, and a sheen of tears sprang to her eyes. “Baby, there are plenty of things here I love,” she said, kissing Ava’s forehead. Richie saw the motion and the tears, and came to sit next to them. He wrapped an arm around Jennifer’s shoulder and kissed her forehead.

“You alright?” he whispered.

“More than,” Jennifer answered. “I think we should get her home though; she’s exhausted.”

“She’ll be really disappointed she couldn’t go to the horror show with you this weekend.”

Jennifer shrugged. “So, I’ll stay another week,” she said. “As long as I can clear it with my boss.” Her boss was going to kill her. It was only a matter of time before he stopped being so flexible with her working arrangements and she had to give up so much of her time with Richie. Either that, or she’d have to give up her job. Shocked at how palatable it was to think about giving up her job, she missed most of the rest of what Richie was saying. She caught the end though, the most important part.

Richie tightened his arm around her. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” Jennifer answered, her mind whirring already with the phone calls she’d have to make. And deciding what she wanted to say.

Settling In

2010-04-19T10:00:00.000-04:00

Richie led her through the downstairs, showing off his chef’s kitchen and butler’s pantry that made her mouth water. Next came the formal dining room with acres of mahogany in the table, chairs, sideboard, dry sink, and hutch. She chuckled at the chandelier that hung over the table. “A bit opulent, no?” she said, indicating the light fixture.

“Baby, it isn’t a formal dining room without a little bling.”

She saw the formal sitting room, complete with grand piano, and the family room, the media room, library, two bathrooms, and a guest suite. “Ready for the upstairs?” Richie asked her.

She nodded, and he led her to and up the grand staircase in the entry hall. “There are four guest bedroom suites along this hallway,” he said, indicating a hall that led over the living and family rooms. “My and Ava’s suites are down this way,” he said, leading her toward the back of the house. The first door he stopped at was shocking pink.

Jen laughed, “This has got to be your daughter’s room.”

Richie chuckled. “What gave it away?” He pushed open the door and Jen choked back a gasp. It looked like a queen’s rooms. The windows were treated with heavy fabrics in cream and rose, with swags and valances and heavy tie-backs. The queen-sized bed was lost under a veritable mountain of pillows in the same colors, and the rug was thick and luxurious. Ornate mirrors, an antique dressing table, and elaborate scrollwork on the dressers completed the regal look.

“Wow, not at all what I expected.”

“No?” Richie’s eyes were twinkling.

“Nope, I was expecting it to look like a Pepto factory exploded in here. Did she choose all this?” Jen ventured over to the mirror and ran a finger down the side of the frame.

“She did. My little girl’s got an old soul.”

“You can say that again,” Jen said. “This is absolutely gorgeous!”

“Her bathroom and dressing rooms are through there,” he said, indicating a door at the back of the room. “I’m sure she will want to show you everything this weekend. Are you ready to see your rooms now?” Richie asked, anxious to have this woman in his bedroom finally.

“Lead the way,” Jen answered, anxious to see if Richie’s bedroom reflected the gypsy in his soul, or the practical side of his masculinity. He led the way down the hall a bit, and opened a wide door set with brass fittings. “Oh, Rich! It’s absolutely gorgeous! And the view!”

Richie’s bedroom was in the back of the house. The entire rear wall of the room was glass, offering a panoramic vista that literally took Jen’s breath away. She noticed that most of the glass was sliding doors, and they would let in the sounds and scents of the ocean view beyond. To one side of the room’s door, against the wall, was an oversized four-poster king bed. The headboard and footboard were heavy, dark cherry wood, and the spread and pillows dressed the bed in royal blue and deep purple. The same colors were captured in the swirls of the area rugs that were scattered across the polished hardwood floors.

Against the other side of the door was a sitting area; a few over-stuffed chairs around a low cherry table. Several doors led off the main bedroom, all of them slightly ajar. Jen wandered around, touching everything. She gently pushed open the doors as she came to them, revealing a huge bathroom, study, a music room filled with guitars and a second piano, and two closets.

“It’s amazing,” Jen said.

“Glad you like it.” Richie checked his watch. “We have a little under an hour until Ava comes home. Not nearly enough time to do anything naked.” He laughed at Jen’s expression. “I know. Listen, are you hungry?”

Jen gazed longingly at the bed, then back at Richie. “I guess I could eat,” she said. The pair made their way downstairs and into the kitchen, where Richie made them a light pasta dish. They had just cleaned up the dishes when Richie heard his daughter’s footsteps running toward them.

“Is she here?” Ava shouted before skidding to a stop in the kitchen. “You came!” She flung herself into Jen’s arms.

“Yes, I came to visit,” Jen said, hugging Ava close. “Your daddy took me on a tour of the house; your bedroom is absolutely beautiful! Are you sure you don’t want to be a designer when you grow up?”

“Maybe; I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, you have wonderful taste.” She hugged the little girl again. “Oh, it’s so good to see you again!”

“You too, Jen! How long are you staying?”

“I’m flying home next Saturday; I can stay the whole week. Listen, your dad and I are going to visit a friend of mine this Saturday, do you want to come? I think they have a pool.”

“That sounds like fun,” a voice said from the doorway.

“Mom!” Ava said, scrambling over to her mother. “This is daddy’s girlfriend, Jennifer.”

Jen crossed the room and extended a hand to Heather. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

“Hmmm,” Heather answered, noncommittally; looking Jen up and down with a critical eye.

“Ava honey, why don’t you go get started on your homework,” Richie said. “Give Jen and your mom a chance to talk. Mom’ll come get you when it’s time to go.”

“Okay,” Ava answered happily, and after kissing all the adults in the room, skipped off to do her homework.

“She’s a wonderful little girl,” Jen said to Heather. “You must be so proud.”

“Yes, I am,” she said, not smiling. She cast a glance at her ex-husband, raising an eyebrow at him. Turning her gaze back to Jen, she said, “We should get more acquainted. I would stay and chat now, but I am running late for an appointment. Perhaps we can meet over lunch tomorrow?”

“Sure, whatever you think is best,” Jennifer answered, feeling quite intimidated by the other woman.

Heather looked at Richie. “Why don’t you two meet Jack and I at that restaurant we used to go to all the time.”

“Sure,” Richie said, distracted by Jen’s discomfort. “It’ll be good to see Jack again.”

“See you tomorrow,” Heather said to the room in general, then turned to collect her daughter.

“Damn,” Jen said, sinking back into her chair. “Does she do the intimidating ex-wife thing to everyone? Or am I special?”

Richie chuckled. “She does have the diva thing down pat, doesn’t she? Don’t worry about her,” he said. “I’m sure lunch will be just fine tomorrow, and we’ll have Ava for the whole evening. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“The Ava thing, sure why not? Though will she sleep with us or in her own room?”

“Her own room, thank God. What about the other?”

“I’ll let you know after lunch.”

On Friday, Jennifer was more nervous that she’d ever been in her whole life. Flying nonstop to Australia would have been more preferable. Even if the woman wasn’t Richie’s ex-wife, Jennifer would have been nervous meeting the celebrity. She was a huge fan of Melrose Place, and she had loved the evil, scheming Amanda, and was saddened when she turned nice in the end. But she was absolutely terrified to sit down for a heart-to-heart with the gorgeous woman who was Ava’s mother and Richie’s ex.

Richie and Jennifer had arrived at the restaurant to find that Heather and Jack were already there. “You ready for this?” Richie asked, squeezing Jen’s hand.

“If I’m not,” she answered, “it’s way too late now.”

After awkward handshakes and cheek-kisses, the four sat down for lunch. Actually, they sat down with food, but only the men ate. “Ava has told me a lot about you,” Heather said softly. “She really likes you.”

“I’m glad; I really like her, too,” Jennifer answered. “She’s a wonderfully smart, delightful little girl with exquisite taste and a wicked sense of humor.”

Heather smiled. “She does have her father’s sense of humor.”

Richie laughed. “And her mother’s sense of style.”

After that exchange the conversation flowed a little freer, with Heather asking Jennifer questions that any mother would ask of the woman in her child’s father’s life. Jen answered everything honestly and was relieved when Heather seemed to relax. “You know,” Heather said. “I was prepared to hate you.”

“Heather...” Richie started, but Jen put her hand on his arm.

“She’s allowed, Rich,” she said, and he covered her hand with his and backed down.

“But I can see,” Heather continued, “that you genuinely love Rich and I can tell from what Ava has told me that you really care about her. The little care packages and emails you’ve been sending her – she really enjoys getting them, and they don’t smack of someone trying to get on her good side. They feel honest.” She toyed with her water glass and considered the woman across from her. “You seem like a very nice, normal woman. Rich is lucky to have found you.”

Jennifer smiled. “I’m the lucky one, but thank you.”

That night, Richie and his girls ordered in Chinese and sprawled in the sitting area of his bedroom, watching ESPN and talking. He and Jen were curled up on the couch, with Ava sitting on the floor in front of them, leaning against the sofa. It felt so right, having Jennifer there with him and his daughter. He watched as Jen idly combed her fingers through Ava’s hair, twisting it around her fingers, and his daughter relaxed into her touch. He turned his gaze to Jen’s and stared at her for a moment, then leaned over to kiss her.

“What was that for?” Jen asked, smiling.

“I’m just so damned happy right now,” Richie answered. “I’ve got my girls with me, we’re watching sports on TV and neither of you care, and we just had the best damned chow mein in the state.” He let out a robust belch. “Yep, happy as a pig in shit.”

“Pig is right,” Jen said, frowning comically at him.

“Get used it it,” Ava piped up. “Daddy makes all sorts of gross noises.”

“Ah, it’s alright,” Jen said. “I guess I can put up with the gross noises from your dad. He’s pretty special.”

Ava tilted her head back to smile at Jen. “Yeah, he’s one of a kind alright.”

Getting to LA

2010-04-12T10:00:00.001-04:00

After several days of utterly slothful relaxation, Jon and Tiff were on their way back to Texas. They had gotten word that they were letting people back into their homes, and Tiffany wanted to go back and assess the damage. When they were gone, Richie was reluctantly packing his belongings. “I wish I didn’t have to go, but...”

“I know,” Jennifer said, hugging him. “You have Ava to think about. I completely understand.”

“This has just been so perfect, these last days. Things have been so good between us. I guess I hate to break the spell, ya know?” He looked like he was going to ask something else, but just turned back to his bag.

“What, Rich? You looked like you were going to say something there. What is it?”

“Nothing, I was just going to ask if you wanted to come back with me, but I know you’ve taken an insane amount of time off from work and...”

“Let me worry about that,” Jen said. “I would love to come home with you.”

“Really?” He put his arms around Jen’s waist.

“Absolutely. Let me make a few calls.”

After making the necessary arrangements, which took longer than she had hoped, Jen packed a bag. “How long should I pack for?”

“How long can you stay?”

She didn’t want to get into the work arrangement with Richie; she basically had to take a leave of absence to make this trip, and didn’t want him to feel guilty. “I can stay for a week, maybe a little longer. I’ll pack for that.”

While Jen did that, Richie was on the phone to the airlines, adding Jen to his reservation. There wasn’t an adjacent first-class seat on his flight, so he changed his flight to a later time, and arranged for the car he had hired to come a few hours later as well. They spent the afternoon cuddled together, watching old movies on TV, until it was time to leave for the airport.

“Did you take your Xanax?” Richie asked, as he and the driver packed the bags into his rental.

“I’m going without today,” Jen answered as she opened her door.

“Really?” Richie asked. They got settled in the car Richie tucked Jennifer under his arm.

“Yeah; I figure if we’re going to make this work, I’m going to have to spend a lot of time on planes.” Jen smiled warily. “I’d rather not have that mean that I spend a lot of time doped up. I don’t like feeling all loopy.”

“I like you loopy,” Richie said, leaning over to give her a smacking kiss. “You let me take care of you when you’re loopy. You’re too damned independent sober.”

Jen laughed and patted Richie’s knee. “Poor baby.”

They made it to the airport in record time, and were dropped off right in front of the terminal. They were checked in and ensconced in the first-class lounge in less than half an hour.

“There is something to be said for traveling first class,” she said, raising her glass of Diet Coke in salute.

Richie clinked his bottle of water against her glass. “You’re telling me.”

When their flight was finally called, they handed their boarding passes to the flight attendant and made their way down the jetway. The closer to the plane’s door they got, the tighter Jennifer’s grip got on Richie’s hand.

As the plane’s door came into view, Richie gently disengaged her hand from his and tucked it under his arm, so she was squeezing his bicep instead. “Just a few more minutes and we’ll be sitting down. Do you want aisle or window?”

“Aisle. Definitely aisle.”

Richie took Jen’s duffel from her and put it in the overhead compartment. Then he settled into his seat and leaned forward so he was blocking the window. When Jennifer sat, Richie raised the arm rest between their seats and cuddled Jen close to him, and she buried her face in his chest.

“I’m sorry for being such a big baby,” she said. “I know this fear is irrational, but I can’t seem to get over it.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Richie answered. “Maybe in time this won’t be too bad. If it is, we’ll figure something else out.”

The flight attendants made their final sweep of the cabin, instructed everyone to fasten their seatbelts, and went through their takeoff spiel. The plane taxied to the runway, and Jen took a deep breath. As it started down the runway, gathering speed as it went, she held her breath and closed her eyes.

“Breathe, baby,” Richie crooned in her ear. He took her hand in his, and stroked the back of it with his thumb.

When the plane took off soaring over the airport buildings, a curse slipped out from between Jen’s clenched teeth. “Damn, I hate this part.” By the time they leveled off, Richie had lost most of the feeling in his left hand.

“Baby, as much as I want to comfort you right now, I really need my hand for work,” Richie said softly. “Please don’t break it.”

“God, I’m sorry,” Jen answered. “Guess I should have taken a pill. I’m such a wimp when it comes to flying.”

“Lots of people hate to fly,” Richie countered. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “I know something you can do that would take your mind off of the fact that you’re in a plane.”

Jen met his eyes and saw the twinkle of mischief in them. She frowned for a moment before the light bulb flipped on. “Rich!” she hissed. “I am NOT joining the mile-high club with you!”

“Who said anything about that? I just meant the hostess cart will be along soon, and you can have a drink. Glad to know where your mind is, though, you dirty girl.”

Blushing furiously, Jennifer buried her head in her hands. “Oh God,” she moaned.

“Are you sure you don’t want to rethink your aversion to sex on a plane?” Richie asked, chuckling at the horrified expression on Jen’s face.

“Quite sure, thank you,” she said. “I don’t even want to think about getting out of this chair and trying to navigate the aisle while the plane is in the air, never mind the acrobatics needed to – no. You’ll just have to wait.” She stuck her tongue out at Richie who quickly captured it in his mouth. He pulled her closer to him, turning the playful nip into a full-fledged kiss.

Long minutes later, Jen broke the kiss with a smile. “Mmmmm,” she said. “Can we do that for the rest of the flight?” she asked.

“Sure thing, darlin’,” Richie answered. “Whatever you want.”

The flight passed blessedly fast and uneventful. When the announcement came over the PA system for everyone to put their seatbacks and tray tables in the upright and locked position, Jennifer heaved a sigh of relief. “That wasn’t too bad. Now all we have to do is not crash.”

Richie chuckled softly. “Darlin’ you’re perfectly safe. I promise.”

When the captain turned off the seatbelt sign, Jennifer needed a minute to get herself together before opening her belt. “Damn,” she said. “I sure am glad that’s over. How long until we get to your place?”

“Not long; there should be a car waiting outside the terminal.”

Indeed, a black Expedition was waiting for them when they emerged. Their bags were stowed in the cargo area, and they climbed into the back seat. Richie handed Jen a bottle of water from a cooler stowed on the floor between their seats, and she drank it greedily, needing only a few swallows. Sighing happily, she snuggled into his side, and watched as California passed by her window. She texted Denise to let her know that she had accompanied Richie home and her friend invited the two of them to her place over the weekend. “Rather than just having lunch with your guy, I’d love to meet you, too,” she had said. “Richie’s daughter is more than welcome, too, if it’s his weekend.”

When they arrived at Richie’s house, Jennifer whistled. “Wow, this is some place. You do alright, Rock Star.” The estate was sandstone and glass, and absolutely perfect for the bluff on which it stood. The massive oak double front doors opened into a huge entry way. A full-sized mummy lurked in one corner of the hall, and faux cobwebs were stretched across the antique mirror over an ancient mahogany table. “Ready for Halloween, are you?” Jen asked, touching the mummy’s arm.

“Nearly,” Richie said, “though I don’t get too many trick-or-treaters.”

“Gee, I can’t imagine why, what with the imposing gates and everything.”

“Look who’s talking! At least my gates won’t shear your car in half if you’re too slow getting through.”

Across the other side of the entryway, giant floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a beautiful verandah. Beyond that rolled acres of green lawns. In the distance, Jen could see the ocean.

“What a beautiful view,” Jen said, crossing to the windows. She opened one of the sliders and ventured out onto the verandah. The grass looked satiny soft, and she was tempted to take off her shoes and see if it felt as good as it looked. “Does anyone actually use the lawn? It looks too good to be true.”

“I’ll have you know, that is the finest Bermuda grass money can buy, and it is used all the time. My landscapers just do a good job at keeping it up.” He closed and locked the front door behind him and came to stand behind Jennifer. “Want the tour?”

“Absolutely.”

Casa de Hath

2010-04-05T10:00:00.000-04:00

Richie and Jennifer were at the airport Wednesday morning, as promised. Jennifer held a sign that said “Bill” and tried hard to keep a straight face when she saw Jon and Tiffany come through their gate. Tiff ran across the open space and wrapped her arms around Jennifer.

“I’m so glad to see you again!” she said. “Thanks so much for having us. I don’t mind telling you that the photographers were just about gettin’ on my very last nerve.”

“You are very welcome. Now, gimme that hand,” Jennifer said, grabbing for Tiffany’s left hand. “Oh, T, it’s gorgeous,” she said. “Jon done good.”

“Yeah, he did alright,” Tiff said, positively beaming.

“Seriously, how has the press been?”

Tiff rolled her eyes. “I swear to God, Jen, any time we stepped out of the damned apartment, someone was there to take our picture. And you,” she gave a stern look to Jennifer that was ruined by the mirth in her eyes. “You had to go on the board and post about the pictures those damned photographers published yesterday.”

“Hey, I stood up for you!” Jennifer said indignantly. Then she ruined it by laughing. “If you read it all, I said that you guys looked good together and Jon looked happy.” She snuck a look at the man in question. “He does, you know.”

Tiffany looked over at Jon, who was deep in conversation with Richie. “Richie does too. I’m glad you guys worked it out.”

“Me too, girlfriend.” Jennifer was thoughtful for a minute. “So spill, what WAS Jon laughing at in those pictures?”

Tiffany chuckled. “This cab was driving real slow down the street, which was odd because, well, this WAS New York City, and there wasn’t much traffic. Anyway, the cabbie toots his horn, and we look over, and a big hairy ass is pressed against the window.

Jennifer laughed. “No way!”

Tiffany nodded. “Yes way. Jon said if he didn’t know for a fact that Richie was here in Boston, he woulda sworn it was him.”

Jennifer groaned. “I don’t even want to know how he knows what Rich’s ass looks like pressed against a window.”

The women linked arms and went with the men to baggage claim. Richie was horrified at the amount of luggage that came down the chute. “How the hell long are you staying?” he asked.

Jennifer elbowed him roughly. “Shut up, Rich, it’s my house, they can stay as long as they want.”

“Thank you, doll,” Jon said, kissing Jennifer’s cheek. Tiffany had stretched up on tip-toe to kiss Richie’s. “We’re not sure about our departure,” Jon said warily. “We saw on the news that they’re letting people back into Galveston, but it’s a long drive to get in; the airports are still closed.”

“And I told you,” Tiffany said, “that I don’t care how long it takes, I wanna get back and assess the damage.”

“I know, baby,” Jon said, wrapping an arm around Tiffany’s shoulders and kissing her temple.

“Well, whatever you wanna do,” Jennifer said, “is fine with me.”

The foursome went out to the short-term lot and piled suitcases, a guitar case, and themselves into the Tahoe. Jennifer climbed up behind the wheel, her awkward ascent to the running board and stiff-legged entry to the vehicle looking resignedly natural if not comical.

“Hobbling around pretty good I see,” Jon said, laughing.

“I know you aren’t laughing at me, Midge,” Jennifer said, purposefully using the nickname Richie used when he wanted to push Jon’s buttons.

“Oh, I know you just didn’t call me ‘Midge’, Hath,” Jon said, emphasizing her pen name.

She blushed and started the car, and Richie immediately turned on the XM radio. Prayer was on, and the guys groaned. Tiffany and Jennifer laughed, and started singing at the top of their lungs – very much off key. The boys begged them to stop, but the girls sang every last note, including the talk box wah-wahs, until they were all laughing so hard they nearly pissed themselves.

“Dayum, Jennifer,” Tiffany said, “your voice is terrible!” She was laughing hysterically.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but I’ve gotta tell you, Rich doesn’t mind it,” Jennifer answered. She cleared her throat and did her very best impression of a phone sex operator. “Ain’t that right, lover?”

“Jen,” Richie warned. “Stop it.”

“Aw baby,” Jennifer crooned, making Tiffany chuckle. “You weren’t saying that a couple hours ago. In fact I believe your exact words were ‘fuck ‘em, let them take a cab’.”

Jon punched Richie’s shoulder. “You bastard!” he said, laughing. “You’d make us take a cab just so you could get laid?”

“Hell yeah,” Richie agreed. “Wouldn’t you?”

Tiffany turned around and raised an eyebrow at Jon. “Uh, I’d try, but T wouldn’t let me.”

“You’re damned right I wouldn’t,” she said. “You are an excellent lay, fantastic in fact, but manners are manners.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jon drawled, and leaned forward to tug on Tiffany’s braid.

The joking and banter made the hour-long drive back to Jennifer’s house seem to fly by. As they passed through the gates, Tiffany whistled. “Damn, girl, you do alright.”

“Thank God for pre-nups,” Jennifer quipped, then noticed Jon’s frown in the back seat. “Uh-oh, did I light up a touchy subject there?”

Jon shook his head. “Naw,” he said. “She thinks we should have one, I don’t happen to agree.”

“Jon, that’s our business,” Tiffany admonished, as they poured out of the car.

“Sorry, honey,” Jon said.

“So!” Richie said. “T, you gonna try out Jen’s stripper pole? Damned thing’s been lonely with her all laid up like that.” He wagged his eyebrows at her.

Tiffany rolled her eyes. “If I do, Sambora, it won’t be in front of you.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Richie wheedled. “I have a whole fistful of dollar bills.”

Tiffany punched him in the stomach, hard enough to make him say OOOF! “Richie,” she said, “you don’t have enough money for me to dance for you.”

He pouted, which made Jennifer laugh. “Oh, you big baby,” she scolded.

And so it continued all through lunch. After they cleaned up, Jennifer hopped online to answer a few emails and PMs from the girls, and laughed at Denise’s.

“Rich, baby, you’re outed,” she said. “Denise and Lucia want to meet you now, next time you’re home.”

“Sure thing,” Richie said. “Are they gonna wear their hair up for me?”

Jon laughed. “T wrote ME as the vampire, asshole,” he said, smiling at Tiffany, who blushed.

“Watch it, baby,” Tiffany warned. “I haven’t completely written off writing slash.”

Jennifer laughed. “I can collaborate with you! I know Rich’s lines and moves, and could accurately describe his technique...”

Tiffany burst out laughing at the looks on their men’s faces. “Would he be throwing or catching?”

“Stop!” the men said together. “Shut up!” Jon protested.

The girls ignored them. “Oh I think they should wrestle for throwing rights.”

“Oh, but Richie’s bigger,” Tiff said.

“How do you know?” Jennifer asked, then blushed. One of the guys said ‘fuck’. “Oh, that’s not what you meant. Uh, well, yeah he is bigger, but Jon’s more ripped, I think they’d battle honorably for dominance.”

Jon and Richie looked at each other. They knew a sure-fire way to get their girls to shut up. They stalked across the room and each took his woman into his arms. Richie cradled the back of Jennifer’s head with a big hand. Jon framed Tiffany’s delicate face with his hands. The two men leaned in and kissed the ever-loving shit out of their women. They kissed their girls long and hard and after a few minutes, felt the girls go limp in their arms. When they broke apart, the girls looked at each other.

“What were we talking about?” Jennifer asked her friend.

“I have no earthly idea,” Tiffany answered, fanning her face.

The two men exchanged a high-five.

Jennifer suggested her friend’s barbecue place for dinner, but warned them about ribs and ‘ritas night. Tiffany was looking forward to trying Georgia barbecue. She was a little leery about it, because after all, you want barbecue, there’s not a better place then Texas to get it, but she was game. Jon thought it would be fun.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Jennifer went in by herself. Krissy looked up from the table. “Damn, Jen, I thought Richie was with you this week.”

“He is,” Jennifer answered. “I had friends fly in today, they’re here too.”

“Well where are they?” Krissy asked.

Jennifer looked out the window. “Here they come. Be nice.”

When Richie came in, Tiffany was next to him. Jon was behind Richie and not visible right away. When Richie leaned down to kiss Krissy’s cheek, and the other ladies saw who was behind him, the whole table, all eight of the women, said, “Fuck me” at the same time.

Jon chuckled. “Ladies, as tempting as that is,” he said, smiling that smile, “I think my fiancée would have something to say about that.”

“Nah,” Tiffany said, flipping her wrist. “They’d just get you warmed up. ‘Salright.” The women all laughed. “Hey, I’m T,” she said. After the introductions, and a few minutes of gushing and general star-struck fan behavior, they settled in to eat. Matt brought out big piles of ribs and cole slaw, dirty rice, corn on the cob and garlic smashed potatoes. Cornbread and sweet tea rounded out the meal, and they laughed and talked and stuffed their faces until they couldn’t swallow another bite.

Toward the end of the meal, Matt approached them. “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, after kissing Jennifer’s cheek. “But would you guys mind if I took a photo for the brag wall?”

Richie looked affronted. “How come you didn’t want my picture last time I was here?”

Matt looked sheepish and glanced at his wife. “My wife’s a fan, but uh…” he trailed off.

Jon saved him. “But she’s got the hots for me, not the wingman.” He nodded. “I understand. Happens all the time” Krissy buried her face in Veronica’s shoulder.

“Fuck you,” Richie said.

“No thanks,” Jon replied.

They posed for pictures at the bar and back in the kitchen, and took one with Matt for the brag wall, then posed with each of the ladies.

“Thanks,” Matt said. “Thanks a lot.”

Krissy pulled Jennifer aside, into the vestibule where the bathrooms were.

“OH MY GOD!” she said, trying for sotto voce, but failing miserably. “I can’t believe JON FUCKING BON JOVI is in my restaurant!”

“Krissy, calm down!” Jennifer said, giggling.

Richie stalked over. “How come you didn’t go all ape shit when I first came into your restaurant?”

“PUSSY!” Jon yelled at Richie, making Krissy laugh.

“DICKWAD!” Richie yelled back. He looped his arms around Jennifer and Krissy, and led them back to the table. They all declined dessert, but hung around for a little while to listen to the local blues band that was playing. Eventually, Jon, Richie, and their girls made their way back to Jennifer’s house.

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

2010-03-29T10:00:00.000-04:00

Richie took Jen into his arms and held her close to his body. He trailed kisses from her jaw to the spot just under her ear that made her whimper. Pressed against his body, Jennifer could feel the hardness of his erection. Richie eased away slightly, afraid that having her rubbing against him would make him cum in his jeans. He kissed his way down her neck, taking time to lick and suck every inch thoroughly. By the time he got to her shoulder, she was quivering.

Richie cupped Jennifer’s face with his hands and sipped from her lips. She kissed him back eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck. He slid his hands down to the buttons of her blouse, and opened them slowly. When the garment wouldn’t fall from her arms, he gently pulled them from around his neck. He quickly divested her of her bra as well, while never taking his mouth from hers.

He scooped her up and brought her into the living room, where she finally noticed the fire burning. Spread out in front of the fire was a sea of duvets and blankets, all covered with soft, cotton sheets. As Richie laid her down gently, their mouths parted, and Jennifer chuckled. “Did you find every blanket in the house?”

“Just about,” he answered, stripping off his own shirt and shoes. “I left our bed made for later.”

He stretched out by Jennifer’s side and leaned over to take one pebbled nipple into his mouth. He moaned with pleasure. “Damn, I missed you,” he said.

Jennifer threaded her fingers through Richie’s hair and gasped as he sucked hard on the tiny peak. “God, I missed you too.”

While his mouth worked, his hands were busy unzipping her slacks and pulling them and her panties down and off her legs. “How’s your knee?” he asked.

“It’s fine,” she said, pulling his head down for another mind-numbing kiss. “Practically good as new.”

“Good,” Richie said. “Because I want to feel both of your legs pulling me in tighter to you when I’m making love to you.”

He grazed a hand down Jen’s side to the top of her thighs, tickling the little patch of hair there. When her legs parted, seemingly of their own accord, Richie didn’t hesitate, and dipped his fingers in between to find Jen already damp. He skimmed his fingertips along her sensitive lips, parting them slightly to dip one finger inside. Lubed up, he slid it around her clit before pressing the tiny ball into her, making her shiver.

Jennifer half-sat and pulled at Richie’s belt, unbuckling it quickly. She fought with the button on his jeans and struggled with the zipper, as it was pulled taut across his bulging erection. “Help me,” she grunted.

Richie rolled onto his back and finished unfastening his jeans, and pulled them off, kicking them away. Rolling back to her, poking her leg with his cock, he asked, “better?”

“Mmmm,” Jennifer answered, taking his long shaft in her hand. “Much. I want you inside me, Rich. I need you.”

Richie didn’t need for her to ask a second time. He rolled so he was cradled between Jen’s legs and pushed gently into her, filling and stretching her. Jen’s neck arched and her head lolled to one side as the sensation of being filled as only this man could fill her, body and soul, overtook her. When he started stroking in and out of her slowly, she raised her legs and looped them together around his back.

“I just want to feel you inside me for a minute,” Jen said, pulling at his shoulders. “Please, just let me feel you.”

Richie obliged, laying atop Jennifer, feeling her heartbeat with his. When the two beats matched, he pushed up, his hands on either side of Jen’s face, and started rolling his hips again. Slowly.

Jen’s legs dropped back to the floor, and she bent her knees, planting her feet wide. Richie knelt up and took Jennifer’s calves and draped them over his arms. He pushed at her thighs with his hands, opening her more to him, and the change in angle had him pressing just so slightly upward within her.

“God, Rich,” Jen said, her voice a strangled whisper.

He picked up the pace, the crackling of the fire and the steady slap of their bodies the only noises in the room. He felt her start to tense, and he stopped, waiting for her eyes to open. When she slitted then just enough to make out his face, he smiled. “I want to watch your eyes,” he said. “They turn colors when you cum.”

Jen groaned and opened her eyes as best as she could. Richie let Jen’s legs down, then dropped his hands to either side of her head. He leaned down to kiss her, then pressed his forehead to hers as his hips continued to piston. He could feel her squeezing him, tighter and tighter, and knew she was getting close. He felt the tell-tale tingle at the base of his balls that told him he was getting close, too.

They locked eyes for the last few strokes and when oblivion came, it took them swiftly, washing over them in wave after wave of heart-stopping pleasure. Richie watched as Jen’s eyes darkened through several shades before finally rolling back in her head. He continued to pump in and out of her until he started to go limp, and only then pulled out of her. When Jen whimpered, he quickly started to stroke her clit, tight, quick circles that brought her to orgasm again. She cried out and thrashed on the blankets as the buzzing that started at her core quickly worked its way through her. Richie kept up the gentle pressure on her bud for long minutes, rubbing it until she begged him to stop. Only then did he slip between her thighs again and slide home.

He bent down to kiss her deeply, his tongue matching the thrusts of his hips. Jennifer, still buzzing from the assault on her clit, clamped down almost immediately with wave after wave of pure bliss. Her head got fuzzy as all the blood slowly drained from her brain. She didn’t know where it went, and didn’t care. She had her Richie back, that was all that mattered.

Much later, when they were sated and sleepy, and the fire had burned down to nearly nothing, Richie spoke. Jen’s head was pillowed on Richie’s chest, and he was tracing lazy circles on her shoulder.

“Are you awake, darlin’?”

Jen chuckled, shifting her leg so it was twined more firmly around his. “Sure am, baby, what’s up?” Her hand snaked down to between his legs. “Not you.”

“Damn woman, I’m not a young man anymore. Give me a little time to rest, and we can pick up where we left off.” He caressed her head, and pulled her hair out from under it so he could sift it through his fingers. “I brought you something.”

Jennifer pushed up onto one elbow. “A present? You bought me a present?”

“Not bought, brought. Wanna see it?”

“Oh absolutely.” She scooted over so Richie could get up.

She watched as he sauntered across the room, his thigh and ass muscles flexing as he walked. He bent over to flip up the lid of his suitcase, and Jennifer groaned when his balls pushed between his legs.

“Oh NO! My eyes! My eyes! Not a good look, there sweet cheeks.”

Richie laughed and spread his legs a little so his cock hung down between his thighs. “Better?”

“Oh yes, much,” Jen agreed.

Shaking his head, Richie dug through his suitcase and came up with an inch-thick large flat package wrapped in silver paper. He sauntered back to the bed, and stopped just short, holding the package just out of Jen’s reach. “I just want you to know how very, very important you are to me.” He handed her the package and sat facing her on the pallet.

Jennifer locked eyes with Richie for a minute, seeing the truth to his words there. She swallowed back the lump in her throat and carefully slit the tape on the paper.

Richie chuckled. “One of these days, I’m going to get you to rip the paper.”

“Never,” Jen answered. “I’m too set in my ways.” She smiled as Richie leaned forward to kiss her lips, and giggled when she parted the sides of the elegant wrapping. “Bubble wrap?” she said. “Ooh, what is this a picture of?”

“I’ll never tell,” Richie answered. “You’ll have to see for yourself.”

Jennifer tore away the tape holding the bubble wrap over its precious cargo. She gasped at what she saw. “Oh Rich,” she whispered. “How in the world...”

In an antique silver frame was a black and white photo of a very young Jennifer being kissed on the cheek by a very young Richie.

“Tony owed me a favor or six,” he quipped. Then he explained how Tony had photographed much of Richie’s solo endeavors back in the 90’s, when Jon didn’t have anything for him to do. “I just called him and asked him to dig through the stuff he had from San Diego back in the day.”

“And he found it?” Jennifer was incredulous, but couldn’t tear her eyes away from the photograph. “That was more than a decade ago!” She traced a finger over Richie’s image, at the slight crinkling of his eyes, over the long dark hair that she now knew to be soft as sable.

“It’s our first kiss,” Richie said. “Preserved for all posterity.”

“It’s beautiful,” Jennifer said, finally raising her gaze to meet his.

Much later, after she showed Richie just how happy the gift made her, they hung the photograph in Jennifer’s bedroom next to the door, so it would be the first thing she saw in the morning, and the last thing she saw before going to sleep.

Richie and Jen spent the remainder of the weekend together, separating only when absolutely necessary. They talked and cried together, made love and laughed together. They walked a thousand miles around the lake on her property, telling each other everything they hadn’t told each other yet. By the end of the weekend, they knew each other as well as two people possibly could.

Monday, Jennifer called in sick to work. She and Richie went to visit her parents, who were tolerant but wary. They had seen the pain in Jen’s eyes, heard it in her voice, and weren’t quite so quick to forgive Richie as their daughter. But, when they saw how positively serene, how purely happy and content their baby girl was, they relented, and welcomed Richie back into their hearts.

“We don’t know what happened,” Jennifer’s father said, “and we don’t want to know. Just know that we only forgive you because she forgives you.”

“And,” Ma added, “if you ever hurt her like that again, it will be the last thing you do.”

Later that night, as Richie and Jen were clearing up dinner in her kitchen, Jen’s phone rang. “Can you get that?” Jen asked, wet up to her elbows at the sink.

“You got it, darlin’,” Richie said. He hit the speakerphone button. “Yes, can we help you?”

“Rich, man is that you?” Jon’s voice came through the tiny speaker.

“Who else is it gonna be, asshole? What’s up?”

“Is Jen there?”

“Right here, Jon,” Jennifer called. “I’m doing the dishes, or I would have answered myself. How’s the weather in Galveston?”

“We’re actually in New York,” Jon said. “The hurricanes were fierce, and we had to evacuate. T’s fairly pissed off, but it was JUST TOO DANGEROUS!” He yelled the last few words, and Jen and Richie could hear a faint “No it wasn’t!” in the background. Jon laughed and continued. “We were wondering if you could stand our company for a few days.”

Jen and Richie exchanged a glance. “Sure,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

Jon chuckled. “Nothing much, just the damned paparazzi are practically stalking T, and she isn’t really thrilled with it. We could go to Philly or out to Jersey, but T said...” he trailed off, and the woman in question took the phone.

“T said,” Tiffany continued where Jon left off, her soft drawl filling the kitchen, “that if I’m gonna be thrown out of my home, and be stalked like a damned deer just because I’m wearin’ this lil bit of sparkle on my hand...”

“WHAT?” Jennifer shouted excitedly. “You’re getting married? Oh, T, that’s wonderful! Congratulations!”

“Yeah,” Tiffany answered, laughing softly, “he made me an offer I couldn’t possibly refuse. Anyway, I wanna come out there to visit. Maybe stay a few days?”

“As long as you need,” Jen said. “When are you coming?”

“Day after tomorrow okay by you?”

“Absolutely,” Jen said. “I’ll have Rich help get a room ready for you.”

“Alright, we’ll see you Wednesday then. Thanks, Jen.”

Richie's Arrival

2010-03-22T10:00:00.000-04:00

When the plane finally finished taxiing to the gate in Boston late Friday afternoon, Richie stood and stretched. He had left as early as he could on Friday. He wanted to leave right after seeing Cheryl back to her hotel, but had dinner plans with his daughter. He was distracted all night, which wasn’t lost on Ava, and he wondered what she’d tell her mother when he dropped her back home. He was packed and ready to leave by nine Friday morning when his own words from lunch the previous day came back to him. He owed Jennifer something special.

He knew she wouldn’t appreciate jewelry or flowers; she’d like them of course, but she wasn’t a ‘buy me off’ kind of girl. Besides, he wanted to give her something personal; something that showed her how much she meant to him; something that showed her that he was serious about them, and wanted to put the last days behind them once and for all and move forward; together.

As he was pacing the house trying to think, he discarded dozens of ideas as too trite. He thought about writing her a song, but thought that was way too clichéd. But, he reasoned, he always poured his heart and soul into the pieces he’d written for Ava, why not for Jen? As he walked purposefully toward the small studio he had set up in the back of his house, he stopped. The hallway, his “brag wall” was lined with photographs and promotional posters from his solo work from the 90’s. Seeing them made him smile.

He knew just what to do for Jennifer.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed a few buttons. After a minute, he said, “Tony? Rich. I need a favor.”

Now that he was on the plane, and it was nearly to Boston, Richie was practically crawling out of his skin. He’d been antsy and fidgety the entire flight. Even the flight attendants, who were usually charming and attentive, were giving him a wide berth and leery glances.

The cross-country flight seemed to take more time than ever this time around, and with every minute that passed, he had gotten more and more agitated. When the plane finally came to a halt, he grabbed his oversized duffel from the overhead, and his guitar from the captain’s closet. He stopped a moment to apologize to the flight attendant for his attitude, then turned and strode purposefully down the jet way. Ava had wanted to come to Boston to see Jen, too, but Richie knew that he needed some alone time with his girl to really make sure everything was alright. And he wanted to be alone with her when he gave her the gift Tony helped him put together.

Checking his watch, he cursed. He’d be able to get to Jen’s before she got home, but just barely. And if there was traffic getting out of Logan, he’d miss being able to surprise her.

Jennifer checked her watch for the thousandth time. Then she checked her phone. Richie had said he’d call with his flight arrangements, but when the phone rang, she was in a meeting, and let it go to voicemail. He didn’t leave a message, which surprised her, but called him back as soon as she got back to her desk. No answer.

Her cell rang an hour later when she was on a conference call, and again, no message. “What the hell?” she said to herself, when she got Richie’s voicemail again.

By the end of the day, they still hadn’t connected, and she lost service when she got on the train. She wasn’t worried; she figured Richie would either be on the first flight out on Saturday or a late flight later tonight. She was nervous about it being awkward between them, however, and wanted to know when he was coming so she could have time to prepare for his arrival.

She spent the drive home from the train station wondering what they’d do over the weekend, and by the time she keyed in the code at her gate, she had calmed herself down. She’d pour herself a glass of wine, call Richie one more time, and settle in for a quiet evening at home.

As the house came into view, Jennifer frowned. The soft glow from the front windows distracted her, and she didn’t notice the smoke rising lazily from the chimney. “I don’t remember leaving any lights on,” she said to herself. She was meticulous about shutting off the lights before she left for the day. Her frown turned to fear when she saw a shadow pass in front of the window.

Standing on the brakes, she brought the car to a halt. She threw the gearshift into reverse and backed down the driveway, dialing her cell as she went. “Patriot Security, how can I help you?”

“This is Jennifer Petruzzo, account 3287154; I want to check on the status of my alarm, please.”

She heard a few key clicks on the other end, and the voice said, “It was disarmed this afternoon at 6:12pm Eastern time. Is there a problem?”

Much of Jennifer’s fear dissipated. She had set it that morning; someone who knew the codes had unset it. Most of her family and close friends had the gate and house codes, and before she brought the police in, she wanted to be sure of who was in the house.

“There may be, but I don’t know yet. Can I keep you on the line for a few minutes?”

“Of course.”

She put the Tahoe into ‘drive’ and crept up the driveway. When she turned off the SUV and climbed out of the car, her front door opened. Standing there, filling her doorway was Richie.

“Rich!” Jennifer exclaimed. “You should have told me you were coming early!”

“Sorry, darlin’,” Richie said softly. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you certainly succeeded,” she chuckled. She put the phone up to her ear and said, “Thanks, everything’s fine. Sorry to have bothered you.”

“No trouble at all, Ms. Petruzzo. You have a good evening.”

“Thanks, same to you.” She clicked off and dropped her arm to her side. “It’s really good to see you,” she said to Richie.

“It’s so good to see you too,” he replied, coming down off the porch to stand in front of her.

After an awkward silent moment, Richie opened her arms, and Jennifer stepped into the circle of his embrace, nestling against his chest. He kissed the top of her head, then laid his cheek against her hair and squeezed her tightly. “I love you,” he said simply.

Jennifer leaned back to look at Richie, tears glittering in her eyes. “Oh, Rich, I love you too.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, and sipped naturally, gently from her lips. When Jennifer sighed, Richie tilted his head a little more, slanting his mouth so his tongue could fully explore her mouth. She met him stroke for stroke, and they stood there for long minutes, mouths locked together, their bodies pressed tightly against each other. When they finally broke apart, Jennifer smiled and caressed the side of Richie’s face. He closed his eyes against the sweetness of the gesture and sighed.

“I missed you,” he said to her, gently grasping her hand and kissing her palm. “And I’m so damned sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Jennifer answered, “more than you know. And I missed you something awful. But you’re here now, and everything’s going to be alright. Help me with my stuff? I’ll make you dinner.”

Richie nodded, tucked Jennifer under his arm, and led her back to the Tahoe. He grabbed her briefcase and laptop bag, she grabbed her purse, and they slowly made their way into the house.

Richie dumped Jen’s bags on the entry hall table, and pulled her into his arms again. “On second thought, I’m not very hungry right now,” he said. “Not for food anyway.”

Lunch with Cheryl

2010-03-15T10:00:00.000-04:00

Thanks, Willow, for writing most of this one

Late Thursday morning, Richie pulled the Aston Martin into the parking garage at The Grove, a trendy LA shopping and dining area. He had suggested that Cheryl meet him here because he wanted her to see one of the hidden jewels of LA while she was here. It wasn’t the mid to high end shops that he felt were so special, but the old-fashioned flea-market type area with about a dozen food stands that were practically hidden within this trendy LA-chic place.

He had told her to meet him outside in the courtyard, hoping that due to the fact that it was Thursday and an earlier hour, the crowds would be sparse and the exposure minimal. Not wanting to take any chances of a repeat performance of his lunch with Stephanie, he pulled on a ball cap, tucking his long hair back and underneath it as he adjusted his glasses and stepped from the car.

Having only met her once before, Richie hoped he would remember what she looked like. As he walked up toward the fountain in the plaza, he recognized her reddish-blonde hair even though her back was to him and he chuckled when he realized that she had indeed worn her hair up like they had teased about on the board a lifetime ago.

Not being the type to turn down the opportunity to cause a woman to swoon, Richie walked up behind Cheryl and, placing his hands on her shoulders, leaned in to kiss the side of her neck just below her ear. This closeness made Cheryl spin around, a shocked look on her face that melted as soon as she saw the shit-eating grin on his face.

“Hey darlin’,” he said, removing his glasses and then taking her into a deep embrace. “It’s good to see you again. How are ya likin’ LA so far?”

“Hey Richie. It’s good to see you too. ” She hugged him back as he picked her up off the ground given that she was nearly a foot shorter than he. “I haven’t been here long enough yet to decide, but this place is really gorgeous. It’s a little public though, dontcha think?”

“What’s wrong? No desire to end up on TMZ with me?” he quipped, making them both laugh as they thought back to the ridiculous story from a few weeks ago.

“Hell no, I could care less who sees us. Jennifer knows we’re having lunch and I even got her blessing to wear my hair up like this, so to hell with the stupid media. I’m just glad to see ya again.” She stepped back to take a long look at him. He looked fantastic in tight black jeans, well-worn leather boots and a deep purple shirt unbuttoned so far down he shouldn’t have bothered. Looking into his face, she saw the smile lines and little eye crinkles, but his smile didn’t quite light his eyes; she could see a hint of worry there.

“Let me show you around, although I see you’ve already found at least a couple of stores,” he said, eying the two small shopping bags that were sitting on the edge of the fountain next to her pocketbook.

“Yea, I got here a little early so I did a little shopping. I’m a sucker for all things bling-y, so I picked up a few things. I’ll show you later if you are interested. I even saw some things I bet Jen would love,” she winked at him knowingly, but cringed inwardly when he saw a flash of sadness cross Richie’s face.

As they walked along, Cheryl said, “You know, I’m really glad I didn’t have to come out here and serve you up your balls for lunch.” She turned and looked him straight in the eye. “I haven’t seen someone that messed up in a really long time. Jennifer loves you so much that it’s making her crazy. I don’t know what happened between you two Rich, and I don’t really want to know unless you want to tell me, but I’m glad you two are working it out”. She leaned up on tippy-toes to place a kiss on his cheek.

“I’m trying, but I don’t know that she can really forgive me,” he admitted softly. “I was such a bastard to her. She said she forgave me, and was willing to forget, but I’m not so sure. I’m worried that it’s gonna be awkward with her this weekend.” He put his sunglasses back on to hide the emotion in his eyes.

Cheryl put her hand on his arm. “I’m sure it’ll be okay. In the months I’ve known Jen, she hasn’t said anything she hadn’t meant; at least with important stuff. Can I give you some advice?” Richie nodded. Cheryl said, “Just tell her you love her, pull her into your arms, and hold on. I’ll bet you anything she’ll cry a little, but she’ll hug you back. Then she’ll be ready to move on.”

Richie nodded. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll do that.”

He led her around what looked like the back of a couple of the shops, almost as if he were leading her into a back alley. She trusted him, of course, and didn’t ask where they were going as he continued to walk, her hand placed tightly in his. When they ducked their heads low under a natural awning in the narrow walkway, they walked into what seemed like a whole different world. Cheryl gasped! It was the most quaint place she had ever seen. Everywhere she looked there were vendors and tables and shops… no, booths really, all selling a variety of foods from prepared items to cold cuts and meats to breads and candies. The smells all mingled into one another and it was just wonderful.

“Come on, I have the perfect place for us to eat,” he said with just a hint of teasing in his voice which Cheryl might have missed had she not be keen to his sense of humor from talking to him on the board. She wondered what the hell he was going to do. Walking about halfway through the market they came up to a counter and Richie grabbed two menus, handing one to Cheryl before opening his own. “We order here at the counter and then sit down and they will bring out the food.”

Cheryl opened the menu, although she already knew what type of food was here and she smiled. “How did you know that I love French food?” she inquired.

He just looked at her over the top of his sunglasses, and raised his eyebrows, smiling mischievously.

“Oh no you didn’t?! Richie! Please tell me you haven’t been reading my Paris story.” He could see a slight bit of color rise in her face.

“Guilty as charged,” he said, grinning widely. “Jennifer shares everything with me, darlin’.”

A shadow of dread came over her just then. “Oh no, please tell me that Da….”

He stopped her then with a finger to her lips. “No, I didn’t tell him about it. He does know, thanks to one soon-to-be-dead Cubano, that Jennifer has an alter ego in ‘Hath’, though he hasn’t found her site, but that’s not to say he won’t, especially now that his show is off the ground, and he’s got some time to breathe.” Richie winked at her. “And if THAT ever happens, I will never hear the end of it, because of that stupid Joker story. He’d comment for sure on your story, and there’d be a new male member on the board, because he wouldn’t let that shit go.” Richie didn’t mention that the other male member, “Billy the Kid”, was actually Jon because he wasn’t sure if Cheryl knew that or not. “So nope, he doesn’t know. Yet.”

She exhaled audibly. She was new to the fan fiction writing world, “We’ll Always Have Paris” being the only story she had ever written in earnest, and she was still really unsure of it, let alone of the idea that he, or any member of the band for that matter, would actually read the thing.

Richie could see the look of uncertainty lingering on her face, and laughed. “It’s a good story and you shouldn’t worry about it so much,” he said reassuringly. “I promise you, we see the all the things you girls write as flattery.” He thought for a minute, pursing his lips and tapping them with a thoughtful finger. “Well, all except the gay shit,” Richie said, shivering and making Cheryl laugh.

They ordered their lunches and settled at a table in the courtyard to eat and talk. “Let me see what you bought. I’m a bling guy myself, as if you didn’t already know that. Plus, I love getting ideas from you girls about things I can do and get for Jennifer. Besides,” he finished softly. “I owe her something special.”

Cheryl pulled out the bags, one from Breiton and the other from Lucky Brand. She opened the second one first. Prefacing by saying that this item was strictly for the fan in her, she pulled out a necklace that was so a crazy homage to Richie that even he was taken aback by it. It was a silver chain with a couple of dangling stars on one end, but what made it unique was the black and white fender guitar that was attached to one part of the chain and the guitar pick that said “Lucky” on the other side of the chain.

“You know, you need to replace that pick with the real thing, right?” he said, grinning.

“Well, of course, but I don’t have the real thing. I guess I was never good at getting your attention at a show,” she smirked at him.

Richie reached in his pocket, pulling out a couple of picks. He always carried them with him just as he always had a guitar close by, because he never knew what situations would present themselves. He held out his hand to her and she grinned.

“Pick one,” he said.

She looked at him quizzically. He nodded. She chose an older pearlized pick that she recognized from several tours back. It had his signature on one side and the inscription “Wielding the Axe of Love” on the other. She pointed to it and, in true Richie Sambora fashion, he took the pick and flicked it at her lightly, landing it squarely inside her dress, right between her breasts.

“I never miss,” he said, full on smirk wide on his face.

The rest of the afternoon went quickly, too quickly for her liking. They talked about Cheryl’s husband and children, and about Jennifer and Ava, and Richie told her that he never ever thought he would love someone as much as he did Jen. He told her that he wanted nothing more than for Jennifer to come out to LA with him forever. Cheryl almost chuckled at the wistful tone of his voice until she saw he had the face to match. He was serious. She didn’t ask him if he was going to propose but she could see the wheels turning behind those eyes. She told him that if there was ever anything she could do, to please just call.

When Richie dropped Cheryl off at the hotel, she called her friend.

“Jen, I just had the best lunch with your man,” she said.

“Oh really?” Jen laughed. “Did you get the full swoon-worthy treatment?”

“I sure did,” Cheryl answered. She told her friend all about her lunch date, and the two women were laughing. “Jen, seriously, are you two okay? He was looking pretty ragged under the smile.”

“We’re okay,” Jen said. “Or at least getting there. He’s coming out this weekend to see me, and I’m going to see if I can really put the last week behind me. I’m sorry, I don’t really want to talk about it because it hurts too much, but just know that if I couldn’t have handled it myself, I would have come to you.”

“I do know that, sweetie, but you shouldn’t have had to handle whatever it is alone. I would have been there for you, no matter what.”

“I know, Cher, and I love you for that. This was just something I had to handle myself. I promise,” she laughed, “I’ll have other things to whine to you about. You know me.”

“That I do. Well look, I gotta go, but I just wanted to touch base, and tell you I’m glad you worked stuff out with Rich, and hope you have a good weekend.”

“Thanks, babe. It’ll be okay. And if it isn’t I’ll call you.”

“That’s a deal. Bye, sweetie. Love ya.”

“Love ya too, Cher. Bye.”

Make Up

2010-03-08T10:00:00.002-05:00

When Richie’s phone started playing Jennifer’s ring tone, he thought he was hearing things. He hit ‘connect’ before the first stanza of music had gone past. “Jennifer, thank you so much for calling me back. I am so sorry...”

Jennifer interrupted. “Richie, I know you’re sorry. I know you love me. I know you want to fix this. What I don’t know is what I’ve done to make you think I’d even consider not only cheating on you, but trying to do so with your best friend. What I don’t know is what kind of woman you think I am. And I need to know those things before I even think about trying to fix this.”

“You haven’t done anything,” he said quietly. His heart sunk when he heard her call him ‘Richie’. She always called him ‘Rich’.

“I didn’t think so, but I wanted to hear it from you.” She took a deep breath. Now for the tough question. “Why would you call me those horrible names? Do you really think I’m a slut and a whore?”

Richie closed his eyes and his head dropped back against the couch. “Of course not,” he answered.

“Or a liar? You really think I’m lusting for your best friend?”

“NO, Jennifer,” he said vehemently. “I don’t think those things.”

“Then why did you say them?” Jennifer’s color was high and her eyes were bright, and she was glad she found one of the conference rooms that wasn’t all glass.

“I don’t know,” Richie mumbled.

Jennifer sighed, clearly exasperated. “Richie, that’s the answer a kid gives when you ask him why he did something bad. I expect, no, no. I deserve the truth.”

Richie was quiet for a minute, and Jennifer was on the verge of hanging up. How did he say this to her in a way that she’d understand? “I love you too much,” Richie said, then was quiet again.

“What in the hell does that mean?”

“It means that I got scared,” Richie said. When Jennifer didn’t say anything, he continued. “This is not easy to talk about, you know.”

“Well,” Jennifer said unsympathetically, “it wasn’t easy being called a whore by someone who professed to love me, either.”

Richie groaned. “Alright, look. The few major relationships I’ve had in the past, I don’t mean the flings or affairs, but the real relationships, I’ve gotten hurt when they ended. Really hurt. So much so that I know I don’t want to go through that again.” He stopped to take a breath.

“I’m with you so far,” Jennifer said.

“Well, I saw this turning into one of those. The long-term, forever kind of things, and it scared the shit out of me. Aside from Ava and my mother, I’ve never loved a woman the way I love you. What I had with Heather and Denise – that was different. You’re a part of me, Jennifer, a big part, and you have such power over me, I don’t think you understand.” He stopped to take a breath. “I was so petrified that you were going to break my heart, that I was going to go so far deep into the pit that I couldn’t get out, I lashed out. At you and at Jon. I know it didn’t mean anything. I know you were just messing around. In my heart I KNOW that. I will never forgive myself if I’ve ruined what we were building together.”

The silence on the other end of the phone made Richie anxious. He listened hard, and could hear Jennifer’s breathing, so he knew she didn’t hang up on him. He thought she may be quietly crying, but couldn’t be sure until she spoke.

“Rich,” Jennifer said, her voice tremulous. “Do you see how insane that is? A pre-emptive strike on something that’s WORKING? Over something so ridiculously stupid? And to be so hateful...” A discreet sniffle came across the line, and Richie’s own tears started to fall.

“I swear to God, Jen, I didn’t mean any of it,” Richie said, his heart swelling with relief and joy that she called him ‘Rich’ again. “I swear on Ava’s life I wish I could take it back.”

“Well you can’t,” Jennifer said.

“I know,” Richie answered, dejected. “What can I do? Can I even do anything?” He was so frightened that she was going to say ‘no’. He didn’t know how he’d survive it if she did.

“I don’t know,” Jennifer said honestly. “You hurt me pretty badly, you know.”

“I know,” Richie said, “and I’d give anything to take that hurt on myself. Will you give me a chance to try to make it up to you?”

Jennifer was quiet for a minute, composing herself before she answered. “When my husband and I split, I swore I would never be one of those women who take all the abuse her husband or boyfriend or whatever wants to dish out and smile like nothing was wrong. I swore to myself I’d never let anyone hurt me the way Brandon did, and if I did get hurt like that, I’d sure as hell make sure it never happened again. Rich, you hurt me like that. Deep, to the soul pain. I want to give you the benefit of the doubt because I still love you so much it hurts, and I know that maybe the craziness went a little too far.” She was crying in earnest now. “But I never... EVER... want to feel like this again.”

“You’re not giving up on me? You’re giving me another chance?” Richie wanted to be absolutely certain he was hearing her right.

“I’m giving you a last chance. Get jealous all you like. Get mad and rage and stomp your feet if you need to. Yell at me if I do something wrong or hurtful or stupid. But don’t you ever again make me feel like less than a person. Ever.”

“I can promise that,” Richie said eagerly. “Oh God, Jennifer, I can’t promise I won’t get mad but I can promise that I will never make you feel anything less than the woman I love.”

“Alright, Rich,” Jennifer said. “Then I will take you at your word, and forgive and forget. I love you and I want to get past this. You won’t hear me bring this up again.”

“When can I come out and see you?”

“Come this weekend if you can,” Jennifer said. “You have lunch with Cheryl tomorrow; I don’t want you canceling on her. She doesn’t know about what happened, and I’m not going to tell her. When I met her and the other girls in the city, I just told them that things weren’t good between us anymore. I’m not telling anyone what really happened. It’s staying between us, and I’d appreciate it if you honored that.”

“You got it, sweetheart.” Richie was in no hurry to tell the world what an ass he’d been. He was glad Jen wanted to keep it under wraps. “I can’t wait to see you, I will spend all weekend showing you the kind of woman I think you really are.”

“I don’t doubt it, Rich,” Jennifer said. “But I seriously don’t want to talk about this anymore. I mean it. Just thinking about makes me sad, and I want to be done crying.”

“Okay,” Richie said. “I get it. I’m still going to worship you when I see you, though,” he said. “After all, you are a Goddess.”

Jennifer chuckled a little, and Richie’s heart soared. “And don’t you forget it,” she said.

“Never,” Richie promised solemnly.

When she got back, to her desk she sent an email to Jon.

FROM: jemtpetruzo@allegiance.com
TO: frontman@bj.com

It’s over. No, not me and Rich, but this whole episode. He and I talked today, and have mostly sorted it out. He explained some things to me, I explained some things to him, and I decided that ultimately, I’m not ready to kick him to the curb.

Looking at things calmly now, I can appreciate that you didn’t mean for things to get so far out of control. Still, they did, and I hope to hell you’ll think twice before fucking with my life again.

This is the last time I want to have to say this; I said it to Rich, and I’m saying it to you: I don’t ever want to talk about this again. Ever.

I mean it.

~ Jen

PS: I rescind my ban on you coming to my house. Just call first next time.

When Richie hung up with Jen, he knew he had one more plate of crow to eat, and called his best friend.

“What?” Jon said angrily.

Richie winced at the tone of his best friend’s voice. “Hey man. I guess you’ve talked to Jen, then?”

“You could say that. Look, not that you shouldn't trust Jen...because you should. But damn it, Rich, even if you didn't you should've trusted ME.”

Richie sighed and ran his hand roughly through his hair. “I know I should have trusted you implicitly, and you know that I know that you'd lay down your life for me, like I would for you. I was just.... listen, you know that in the past, some of the, uh, 'ladies' I've hooked up with were just using me to try to get to you. And even then, you never bothered with them, so I KNOW in my heart that you would never do that with someone I actually care about. But all that shit you were talking...and you made it sound like she was willing, and I had that minute of doubt man, that minute where I went so blind stupid with rage that if you were in the room with me, I woulda taken a swing at you. So I lashed out and tried to make you feel as shitty as I did.”

“You didn’t just lash out at me, man,” Jon said, unwilling to let his friend off the hook without making him admit what a bastard he’d been.

“I know I called Jen...well...things I should never have called her; let's leave it at that. I'm not proud of my behavior, man. Not by a long shot. I said lots of things I never should have. Look, I can make excuses and offer explanations all day, and it doesn't mean shit. Bottom line is that I fucked up. Again. Can I make it right with you?”

“You just did, bro.” Jon was smiling widely.

Richie chuckled. “Damn, you're way easier than Jen. Seriously though, I came THIS close to fucking that up beyond repair. She's letting me come out this weekend to see her. Damn, I made her cry, man. Worse, I made her say THOSE three little words: I need time. I'll hear that shit in my head forever.”

“Yeah you will,” Jon said. “And it’s not that I’m easier than Jen, we just have more history to fall back on. I know you enough to know that you're truly feeling remorseful. But, let me tell you something. You can say shit about me any day of the week. But disrespecting a woman like Jen that way – well, that wasn’t cool. You do that again, I will personally kick your ass up around your ears.”

“You won’t have to, she’ll kill me.”

Jon laughed. “I don’t doubt it.”

Now What?

2010-03-01T10:00:00.001-05:00

Richie was worried. He didn’t know what to do. He’d thought that after Sunday at the game that they were okay. He should have figured it out, he supposed, when they had gotten back to the parking lot after the game let out, and she dropped the happy-to-see-him act.

“You’re coming back to the house?” Jennifer asked, surprised.

“I was planning on it,” Richie answered, smiling.

“Well, the truck’s sorta full of gear; I don’t have room for you.” She smiled a little. “I really wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

Richie winked. “I have it under control,” he said. When he leaned in to give her a kiss, she jerked away quickly, before his lips could touch her. She didn’t say another word, just got into the truck and slammed the door.

Richie had stood there in shock for a full minute before sprinting to the limo lot to find the car he’d hired. He gave the driver the address, and waited what seemed an eternity before he was driving through the gates of Jennifer’s house. He pulled up in time to see Jennifer and her father, brother, and friend finish unloading the truck. They had stored all the gear in one of the garage bays, and were carrying the coolers back into the kitchen.

“You guys want to stay for dinner?” she had asked them, not seeing Richie in the doorway. Her brother had seen him, though, and given him a hard stare.

John could sense something wasn’t quite right with his sister and her boyfriend, and though he wanted to stay and protect his sister, he knew she needed to deal with this on her own. She’d come to him if she needed him – she always did. “Nah, sis,” he said. “Ed has to get up early tomorrow, and so do I. I’ll take Dad home; you uh, entertain Rich.” He smiled at his sister, who didn’t return the gesture.

“Alright, John.” She reached up to hug her brother, who towered over her despite her height. “Thanks for coming.” She hugged her father and Ed too, keeping a wary eye on Richie when she caught sight of him.

“Thanks for having,” Ed answered. “See you in a few weeks.” He kissed her cheek. “Bye, Jen.”

She shut the door behind them and stared at Richie. “I suppose you’re hungry,” she said, her voice flat and cold. She turned to go into the kitchen, and Richie put a hand on her arm to stop her. Jennifer stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“Jennifer, look at me. Please.”

Reluctantly, Jennifer turned and met Richie’s gaze. He could see pain and sorrow in her dove-gray eyes, and it tore at his heart. “I love you,” he said to her, meaning every word.

She just nodded. “I know you think you do, but I don’t really believe that you do.” She turned her gaze away so he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. She started to walk to the kitchen, and Richie followed her. He watched as she silently emptied the coolers, and got everything put away.

“You took me by surprise,” Jennifer said softly. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

Richie smiled sadly. “You said that already.” He crossed the room and tried to take Jennifer into his arms, but she stiffened and pushed away from him, and he nearly cried. He dropped his arms and took a step back. “I’m so damned sorry, Jennifer. You didn’t deserve all that.”

“No. No, I didn’t,” Jennifer answered sadly. She reached up as if to touch the side of Richie’s face, but dropped her arm to her side. “I think you need to leave now,” she said quietly.

“You don’t love me any more, do you.” Richie’s question was more of a statement of fact. He barely got the words choked out.

Jen shook her head. “Somewhere, in there, under the hurt, I’m sure I still love you. It wouldn’t hurt this much if I didn’t. I just don’t like you at all right now, and I don’t know if love is enough. I don’t know if I trust or forgive you.

Richie nodded. “I understand,” he said, barely above a whisper. He reached out to touch Jen’s hair, but stopped when he saw her flinch. “Can I at least call you tomorrow?”

Jennifer shook her head, more vehemently this time. “I’ll call you in a couple of days.” She stiffened but didn’t dart away when Richie leaned in to press his lips briefly to her cheek. He could feel her eyes following him out of the room.

The whole flight home, Richie tried to figure out how this whole thing got so fucked up.

It was now late Tuesday, and Jennifer still hadn’t called him. Richie was getting really nervous now. Being without her, unable to reach her heart, made him see that Jennifer was the woman he wanted to be with for the long haul. Once he admitted that to himself, and found that he liked the feel of it, he knew he had to convince Jennifer to forgive him. He posted a message to her as an act of desperation, because his phone calls went to voicemail, and his emails went unanswered. He was half-tempted to call Jon to help, but didn’t want to admit to Jon how badly he’d messed things up.

When he checked the board later for a response, and saw her impersonal reply, his heart fell.

Sorry, Rich; work has been busy, and I’m going out w/friends tonight. I have an early morning tomorrow; so I need to try to get some sleep; I'll talk to you later.

You are right, I suppose; we should talk, and we will. Soon.

~ J

Wednesday morning, Jennifer went to work as usual, and saw her voicemail light blinking. Again. Sighing, she scrolled through the call log and saw Richie had called more than a dozen times. She also saw she had a couple of missed calls from work, and called those people back directly, telling them her inbox was full. Then she called the help desk and once again had one of her friends there empty her mailbox so she wouldn’t have to listen to his voice. Then she thought back to what Jon had said to her last night.

After the heated PM exchanges with Jon earlier in the week, she was surprised when he had called her, trying to persuade her to let him take care of Richie since he was the one who instigated the whole thing. Jennifer had reluctantly answered the phone when she saw his name come up on her Blackberry, but held firm, wanting to maintain the little dignity she had left after this whole episode. Jon tried to tell her again that this was totally out of character for Richie, but that just made her hurt more – that she had driven him to this. He was distraught at the tone and lack of emotion in her voice.

Then Jon told her that he had made some off-the-cuff remark to Richie about when was he going to marry her, and Richie had answered “today, if she’d have me.” Jon told her to think about that when she was mulling everything through.

She’d done nothing but think about that.

Mid-morning, her phones started ringing again, both work and cell. She was legitimately busy, so ignored them, but caved, and listened to the messages when she broke for lunch.

“Jennifer, please, call me back. I need to talk to you. I need to make you see that I didn’t mean any of that horrible stuff I said to you. I love you. I never meant to hurt you. Please, let me make this right.”

“I’m begging you, baby, please, PLEASE talk to me.”

Tears formed in Jennifer’s eyes when she heard the obvious tears in Richie’s voice. She expected him to be contrite, but not to be so upset. She hadn’t counted on that. She skipped the rest of the messages, checked the calendars for an empty conference room, grabbed her cell phone, and took off, dialing on the way.

Explanations

2010-02-22T10:00:00.001-05:00

Jon stared at the screen, shaking his head. He knew she was a smart girl, but she just wasn’t getting it. He skimmed over the ranting, knowing it was just the heat of the moment commentary – he knew deep down she didn’t mean that. Over the years, he grew a rather thick skin when it came to irritated females. He just took everything with a grain of salt. Still, he had to make her see his point of view. He was certain that he’d be able to make her understand if she would get past her mad.

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO THE GODDESS HATHOR:
You couldn't be more wrong doll. I didn't do anything to help YOU. I did it to help Rich.

No on all counts. I didn't think you'd be "on board" or that you'd push back. Actually, to be honest, I thought you'd be flattered that he was jealous. Do you know how many women in the world would kill to be 'the meat in a Jon and Richie sandwich'? Yeah, I know what all you women talk about. And don't deny it and say you've never said it. I've read your stories, and I've seen some of your comments on other writers' stories. You HAVE said it before, so don't deny it. So, in my mind I just figured how much better it would be to be the woman fought over than just "the meat" in the sandwich.

If you're expecting me to apologize for having a small circle of people I care about and trust, for Rich's sake, I hope you're not holding your breath while you're waiting, because there's no way in hell that's ever gonna happen. Do you know how many times I've been burned by people I was supposed to be able to trust? Do you have ANY idea how many times someone I trusted and called 'friend' or even 'lover' fucked me over? Even the genius that you are, you can't count that fucking high. And through it all the only people that haven't done that are the ones that are still in that "chalk circle" I've drawn around me. But, it's not just a chalk circle...it's The Great Wall, doll.

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD::
Look, spare me the "poor me, people try to use me" sob story, OK? You aren't the first, last, or worst to be screwed over. And my bad, I thought that when I started to mean something to Richie, that I started to mean something to you. Won't make that mistake again.

And Mr. Ego, there's a difference between talking a good game, and meaning it. C'mon, genius, it's fan FICTION! MAKE BELIEVE for Christ's sake. I've seen your shows. I've heard the banter. You know as well as I do there's a line between what's real and what's part of the show. "Hath" is a persona I've cultivated over the better part of the last 18 months. She's a big believer in equal opportunity, and she puts on one fucking good show, but she’s a fake, just like you.

For crying out loud, YOU of all people should know about giving the people what they want. So yeah, I've written some stuff about you. Big freaking deal. I also appreciate the writing talents of some of the others out there. It doesn't mean I want to engage in those activities. Fuck, Jon, I'm working on a slash story too; do you think that means I really want to see you get fucked by Richie? uh, NO.

And you weren't *god, I can't believe I'm typing this* "fighting over me" Get real. You were pushing him into something he probably wasn't ready to admit. Possibly he would have eventually, possibly not. Either way, it's HIS decision and MY decision....not a tableau for you to manipulate.

And no, I don't want an apology for having a circle of friends you can trust. I don't even give a shit whether I stick around long enough to get into it. You really don't matter all that much in the grand scheme of my life. I don't have to like Richie's family -- I just have to tolerate and be polite. Just like you don't have to like me.

And you're absolutely right...you didn't help me. You FUCKED me over.

Look, let's agree to disagree. You think you did this wonderful thing, making Richie jealous, getting him to yell at me, hang up on me and call me a whore. You have a strange sense of what's wonderful. I think you let your "I know what's best for everyone, because I'm Jon fucking Bon Jovi and if you don't like it, kiss my ass" attitude get in the way of something you had no business getting involved in.

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO THE GODDESS HATHOR:
Wait.

He called you names? He mistreated you?

He has NEVER mistreated or disrespected a woman. I had no idea he would go that far. Hell, you weren't even supposed to know that I'd "meddled". But, I slipped up. I do that from time to time. I didn't want you apologizing for something that I had done, and knew perfectly well what I was doing when I did it.

He wasn't supposed to mistreat you. I never meant for that to happen. Honest.

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD::
You wait. This just proves my point. We are people, not figurines for you to fuck with. We don’t always think and do what YOU, the all powerful, all knowing Jon want us to.

Yeah. He called me a whore, accused me of slutting around with my guy-friends, and then thought the could make it all better with a half-assed "I’m sorry" later, and an ambush at the Pats game this weekend.

You two really are cut from the same cloth, aren’t you? Thinking you control everything.

Well, I have news for you, I control me. I control what I do and what I will put up with. I will not put up with your arrogance and Richie’s misplaced jealousy. I deserve far better than that.

If you want to know the truth, I sent Richie home Sunday, and wouldn’t let him touch me. For him to say those things; on some level he must believe it, no? That kind of deep-seated anger isn't "all of a sudden".

In any event, you let me see the kind of guy he is when things take a harmless left turn, and you showed me a couple of things about myself, too; none of which I like. So I guess I do owe you a thank you for making me see this stuff before things went further.

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO THE GODDESS HATHOR:
NO NO NO! He wasn't supposed to be an ass! I was absolutely sure that the fact that he trusted ME would protect you. That's what I was trying to say before.

I fully expected him to go off on me! Hell, I pushed the buttons, I was ready to take the shit! I didn't know he would say mean and hateful things to you. Which makes no fucking sense. Normally, he would go off on me! Even if it wasn't my fault, so I was sure that with there being no doubt it was my fault I'd get the brunt of his anger.

But don't worry, I'LL handle Mr. Sambora.

And you’re calling him ‘Richie’.

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD::
Jon, I'm a big girl. I'll get over it. I don't want to, but I will. I've been through the hateful before, and "they" all say that behind every hateful remark is a little truth. I know a little of what went on with his other women. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I don't want to be a chump.

Yeah, he’s "Richie". "Rich" was someone I loved, trusted, and respected. He doesn’t have that anymore.

Please, don't make things any worse. I've still got a little dignity left; I don't want him thinking I came sniveling to you. Leave it be. You owe me that much courtesy.

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO THE GODDESS HATHOR:
Alright, Jen. I'll leave him alone. But, I want you to know that it doesn't sit right with me letting you take the ass chewing that was meant for me, and not saying something to the prick.

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD::
You’ve done enough damage, Rock Star. Leave it, and me, alone. Please. If there’s even a shred of decency in your too-big head, you’ll give me this. Call it a parting gift if you will. Goodbye, Jon.

Arrogance

2010-02-15T10:00:00.003-05:00

Monday, when Jennifer went back to work, she logged onto the board during her lunch hour, and saw that Jon had left her a PM. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with Richie, and that included avoiding Jon.

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO THE GODDESS HATHOR:
How're you and Rich? I haven’t heard from him in a couple days; I assume you have him locked up in your bedroom? Tell him to relax and unclench. He called me a couple of days ago...and uh...well...let's just say he was less than happy with me.

Jennifer’s eyes teared up. Richie didn’t say anything to Jon about them breaking up. Typical. Well, she wasn’t going to do it for him.

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD:
Sorry about that.

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO THE GODDESS HATHOR:
No need to apologize. I'm quite deserving of his anger, considering how many buttons I was pushing the other night. But I owed him. No offense taken and T's the only one I want. (No offense).

Besides, the day I can't handle Sambora is the day I pack up and move to Antarctica. He went off, and I told him he was being an idiot.

Don't get mad at that, it was my turn for the name calling.

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD:
No offense taken, and I already know he’s an idiot. I have no doubt you can "handle" him -- Christ -- you've been doing it forever. Doesn't mean I'm still not sorry that he lashed out at you.

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO THE GODDESS HATHOR:
Don't apologize. Really. I pushed the buttons hoping to make him mad. It worked.

Don't ask why I did it. Just accept the benefits and move on.

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD: :
"benefits"?!? Are you fucking insane?

Do you know how mad at me he was? If you can call a raging case of self-doubt joined by sleepless nights, feelings of inadequacy, stupidity, and depression "benefits"...

You are one fucked up individual, Jon.

With that, she went to bed. What the hell was wrong with these people?

The next afternoon, she saw Jon had answered her back. She wasn’t sure she wanted to read anything he had to say, but the curiosity got the better of her, and she had to click the little envelope icon.

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO THE GODDESS HATHOR:
Jen, I have to start by saying that I don't usually explain myself and usually don't have to, because for the most part I'm either dealing with people that know me so well they understand why I do something, or I'm dealing with people that I don't care whether they understand why I did something. So, I'm asking that you try to be patient while I do something I don't normally do.

Richie is a major commitment-phobe, since the divorce with Heather. Hell, you should know that already. He says things like...I love her, I wanna marry her....etc. But, when it comes down to the brass tacks he runs. Or, he'll do something to make her leave. I've watched it happen several times. I wasn't going to stand by while he fucked up the best thing that's EVER happened to him. So, I pushed him.

I made him see just how important you were to him. C'mon Jen. Think. I'm his best friend. His brother. Even if he didn't trust you, don't you think he would've trusted ME? Isn't that just a little bit telling on it's own? The fact that he got all jealous and threw a tantrum, even though he knew...KNEW...that I wouldn't touch you for ANY thing. And not just because of T. Because believe me when I say this, as much as she means to me...and that's a hell of a lot...Richie means more. So, as tempting as you are, doll. You're not tempting enough to make me lose all reason and risk Richie's friendship and loyalty. Thanks but no thanks. And he knows that.

But, he lost his mind in a jealous fit. Then had to spend some time wondering if he'd lost you and knowing how he'd feel if he had. Now, he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he can't live without you, and he's more afraid of living without you than committing to you.

So, there ya go. You're welcome.

Oh, and by the way....

Cheryl, my assistant, still has a job because she didn't fuck up a damn thing. There weren't any hotel reservations to fuck up.

Oh, but thanks again for your hospitality.

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD::
You arrogant, son-of-a-bitch.

When you fuck with my life, well-being, sanity, and sense of self-worth, you fucking well owe me an explanation; I don’t give a shit who you THINK you are. I don't care if Mr. Big Shot Know-it-all Rock Star thinks his shit don't stink and "you either know me or I don't care what you think". You fucked with me, Jon, and I don't like it. I don't put up with people, even well meaning people, even the best friends of the people who mean most to me, interfering in MY life.

You said flat out that you pushed his buttons on purpose. Did you even THINK what that would do to ME? Nope, because outside your own little circle of people you love and trust, the rest of us don't mean shit. Fine. I can accept and understand that. Either that or you'd just assume that I "got what you were doing" and be all on-board with it. Or you thought I wouldn't push back. Well guess what, sweetheart? You thought wrong.

Boy do you underestimate me. I am not one of the Koolaid-drinking crowd who think blindly that all you touch is gold and that everything you do is right.

Yeah, Einstein, I know about Richie's commitment phobia. Do you think after the shit I went through with *ugh* Brandon, that I would be any different? Did it not occur to you to think why I was pushing back on relocating to LA (he hinted, but never came right out and asked, and I pointedly ignored the hints). NO. Of course not. 'Cause I'm outside that little chalk circle you've drawn around your life.

So, to HELP me, what you did was push me blindly into a situation where I had to deal with jealousy, anger and a sense of betrayal with no warning because you wanted to make sure that HE didn't screw something up. Guess what, big shot, it is screwed up. He wasn't anywhere near to fucking things up with me -- at least not from where I'm standing, and to tell you the truth, that's the only perspective that counts. Yours means less than a cockroach’s.

Of course he SHOULD have trusted you. He SHOULD have trusted me, too. He should not have gone off on either of us, but now I see that you made it a point to make sure he did. Who fucking died and made you God?

I suppose I should thank you..... your pre-emptive strike did nothing but solidify in my mind that manipulation and underhandedness is the only way to deal with him, and frankly, that just isn't me, and I don't need that much drama in my life. It's fucked up enough without trying to figure out how to make him learn a lesson he should be willing to embrace on his own. I don't want someone in my life who is only there because his friend bullied him into it.

The fact that he got all jealous and threw a tantrum over something you did must make you feel good; that you have that kind of control over another person. Good for you.

And I don't give a rat's ass if I WAS tempting enough for you. You may be nice to look at, but you have never done it for me. Sorry to burst your bubble there pal, but regardless of what YOU would have wanted or not, I did not, and do not, want you.

So I'm really happy for him that he knows that he "can't live without me". Great. So what if it only cost me a little bit of self-esteem. As long as YOU'RE happy with the results, I guess that's all that matters.

And wait a minute... You came to my house fully intending to do this shit just to fuck with Richie? After I opened my home to you? Man, you are a piece of work.

But let me tell you something.....if you expect me to kiss your ass in thanks, well you can kiss mine.

You had NO right to fuck with me. None whatsoever.

You are no longer welcome in my home or in my life.

Break Up

2010-02-08T10:00:00.000-05:00

When Hath got to work, she was surprised to find her desk phone ringing.

“Hey there,” she said softly. “What are you doing up so early, Rich? Jon got off alright, said to tell you -- ”

“Look, I don’t care what he told you to tell me,” Richie answered, his voice mean and hard.

“Huh?”

“Your behavior with Jon last night was totally unacceptable. If it’s him you really want, you should have said so, instead of leading me on. In case you didn’t realize, he’s totally smitten with T, so your efforts were wasted anyway.”

“Wait, what? What the hell are you talking about? I don’t ‘want’ him – I never have. It was just harmless flirting, and for God’s sake, we weren't even in the same damned room!”

“Do you whore around with all your men friends? You do seem to have an awful lot of them.”

“Rich! How dare you!”

Jen heard him sigh on the other end of the phone. “I don’t want to hear it. I know what I know, and I know what Jon told me. I have some stuff to do, I need to go. I just wanted to tell you that if you want Jon, I won’t stand in your way, though T may kick your ass. I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up with out saying goodbye.

Jennifer stared at her phone, not quite sure what had happened. She quickly pressed ‘redial’ and waited. And waited. And finally, it rang through to voicemail. This is Rich. Talk, baby.

“Rich, I don’t know what the hell that was all about,” Jennifer said, “but I sure as shit didn’t deserve to be hung up on or called a whore. You have one hell of a nerve. Don’t call me back.”

By the end of the day, she had ignored several phone calls, emails, and texts from him, deleting them without looking or listening to them. When she got home, she checked in on the board out of habit, and checked her PMs. There was one from Richie. She was tempted to ignore it, but in the end couldn’t help herself.

Jen, I'm sorry for what I said, and for hanging up on you this morning. I don't blame you for not answering your phone or email, but I hope you see this. I was being stupid, I know, but Jon knows how to push my buttons. I know that whatever was going on was just on the computer and didn't mean anything AND I know that his fiancée would have his ass in a sling if he ever seriously THOUGHT about getting hot and heavy with another woman -- even one as lovely as you. It's just that he called me this morning to brag on how good you looked all rumpled from sleep and he described your bathroom and robe and hell, I know.....I KNOW that you don't think of him that way...it's just...

No more excuses. I was dumb, and wrong, and I'm sorry. Please, call me later, OK? I love you.

~ R

“Oh no you don’t,” Jennifer said to the screen. “You can be a hurtful, jealous fool, call me a whore and hang up on me, then think this makes everything right? I don’t think so.”

She took a deep breath, and hit reply.

First off, I’m only answering this so you’ll leave me alone. Stop calling me. I don’t know how you could think I'd [a] take any of that shit with Jon seriously and [b] be the kind of girl to "love the one you're with." I NEVER gave you any reason to think that about me. Never.

Second, jealous fool or not, this whole mess means on some level you actually believe I would have, or would have WANTED to, mess around with Jon. You’re screwed up in the head, Rich. Completely. What in the hell kind of woman do you think I am? Your apology doesn’t mean anything. You can’t just make this go away with a few pretty words.

I swore I would never let another man make me feel like absolute shit....and look what's happened.

I gave you the power to made me feel horrible about myself and I swore I'd never let a man do that to me again. Well guess what? I’m taking back that power. I loved you more than any other man I've ever known. I trusted you with my body, mind, and soul. And look how I was treated.

I will not allow you to shatter me like ex-ass did. It took a long time to get back to normal, and I will NOT go through that again. Not even for you.

I'm leaving the cell phone home and going to NYC tomorrow. Please honor my wishes and leave me alone. I need a clean break. In this, I deserve to get what I want. You owe me that much.

I can’t say it’s all been fun, but it mostly has. I truly loved you, Rich.

Damn you for that.

Saturday, Richie tried all day to reach Jennifer, redoubling his efforts after he read her message to him. A thousand times over. She wasn't answering any of her phones, and he couldn't even leave any more messages because her voicemail was full. Pacing in his living room, he felt awful that he’d said those terrible things to Jen and hurt her; he didn't know how to make it better.

Yes, he did. He had to go see her and say to her face that he was sorry and didn't mean to say those horrible things to her and make her think he didn't trust her.

When he couldn’t get through to her, he resorted to trying her friends. Krissy hadn’t seen her, and he got Willow’s voicemail. He'd tried calling her mother, but Ma didn't know anything about Thursday, and didn't know where Jen had gone.

Saturday night, he finally reached Stephanie, and surprised the hell out of her.

"Stephanie," he'd said, "it's Rich."

"Hello," Stephanie said cautiously.

"Uh, I can't seem to find Jennifer," he said, "and I really need to talk to her."

"Well, Cheryl and I met her in the city today," she said, "but she should be home by now. She said she was going to take a pill and go to bed." Stephanie was quiet for a minute. "She's really sad."

Rich sighed. "I know and it's my fault. I need to apologize but I can't get to her."

"She's probably sleeping now, but she’ll be at the game tomorrow," she said. "Looks like you're out of luck until later. She should be home after 6."

"OK," Richie said. "I'm coming out there. To Boston. If she talks to you, don't tell her, ok? I don't want her running away from me."

Stephanie was quiet. "OK, but you'd better fix this. She loves you something fierce."

"I love her, too," Richie said. "I'll fix it."

Sunday he flew into Boston. He'd called in a couple of favors, and arranged for a helicopter to fly him from the airport to the stadium. He got there around the start of the third quarter and went to the controls room. He had a plan.

Halfway through the third quarter, Jennifer's brother nudged her. "Look at the board," he said.

Jennifer looked. For a donation to the Patriot's Charitable Foundation, you could have a message displayed on the big board. Everyone always read them and oohed and aahed over birthday greetings, anniversary notices, and marriage proposals.

"HELLO TO JENNIFER IN SEC 315 ROW 11" it said.

Jen smiled and looked at her brother. "What did you do?" She asked.

"It wasn't me - what the fuck?" John answered. Jennifer just shrugged.

"I'M SORRY I HURT YOU; I LOVE YOU, BABY" the next flash said.

Jennifer's face went pale despite the blazing sun. "Oh shit," she whispered.

"CAN YOU FORGIVE ME FOR BEING A JERK?"

"Awwww," the crowd responded.

"PLEASE? I WANT TO MAKE IT UP TO YOU."

By now, of course, Jennifer knew who these were from. The people in her section were chanting "Say yes!" Over and over, making her eyes tear up.

As she wiped the moisture from her eyes, she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Jen..." An all-too familiar voice spoke into her ear. She turned and there was Richie, looking as miserable as she felt.

"I'm so fucking sorry," he said to her. "I never meant to hurt you, to make you think I didn't trust you. I love you. And I know you still love me. I never should have doubted you. Can you ever forgive me?"

John nudged her again. "Look up at the screen." She did and saw herself up there with Richie. The crowd, when they saw who it was, started to point and cheer. The control room guy super-imposed the words "Jen" and "Jerk" over their pictures, making her and the 20,000 people who were paying attention to the board laugh. She smiled sadly at Rich.

"I do still love you," she said, “though Lord only knows why. You hurt me, Rich. And while this is a nice gesture, it’s not going to be that easy. I don’t know that I can trust you not to hurt me like that again." There was cold steel and a sheen of tears in her eyes.

"Baby if I ever do this to you again, I think you'll have to get in line to kill me."

The crowd around them started chanting "KISS HER! KISS HER!"

Jen locked eyes with Richie and shook her head imperceptively. "Don’t,” she mouthed.

Richie settled for pulling her in for a hug. When she stiffened against him and tried to push him away, he relented. “God, Jen, " Richie said. "Can you ever forgive me?"

Jennifer shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t just now, I’m still too hurt, but maybe.” She pressed her lips together in a mockery of a smile and turned back to the game.

Squawk Box

2010-02-01T10:00:00.001-05:00

When the alarm went of at 4:15, Jennifer groaned. And stretched. And yelped loudly when her knee hyper-extended. She’d forgotten that she didn’t have to wear her brace at night anymore. She had just swung her legs over the side of the bed, when there was a knocking on her door.

“Jen, you alright in there?” Jon asked, softly. Jennifer smiled at the concern in his voice. He was such a good guy.

“Yeah,” she called, groaning when the room took a half a minute to come into focus. “Gimme a sec.”

Jennifer stood slowly and shrugged into a kimono before opening the door. Jon was standing there in jogging shorts and a t-shirt, clearly fresh out of bed. Jennifer had to work to keep her eyes on his face rather than give a once-over to his bed-rumpled form. In love with Rich or not, Jon was a fine-looking specimen of a man, and she didn’t want to get caught scanning him for morning wood.

The other events of last night came crashing back to her brain. How the hell could Richie think she was really interested in sleeping with Jon? Not that he wasn’t attractive, hell, downright gorgeous, but she had Rich – why would she want anyone else? She blinked hard to clear the thoughts from her head. She’d deal with Richie later.

“I’m fine, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I forgot that I didn’t have my knee thing on and I stretched and it pulled.” She yawned widely.

“Tired?” Jon smirked.

“Yep. I waited up for another hour for you last night,” she teased. “You left me hanging, babe.”

Jon laughed, his voice still husky from sleep. “Sorry, doll, I thought you were just kidding.” He kissed her cheek. “Clearly, it’s my loss, ‘specially since we don’t have time this morning.”

“Story of my life,” Jennifer said, her dramatic sigh turning into another jaw-popping yawn. “Oh, damn, I need coffee. You want a cup?”

Jon nodded. “I’ll go down and get it started. Just tell me where stuff is.”

Jennifer laughed. “Silly man, why the hell would I want to go all the way downstairs for my morning cup every day?” She indicated the far corner of the room, where a small counter sat over a dorm-sized fridge. A gleaming silver Keurig coffee maker sat on the counter. “I’ve got a Columbian roast, French vanilla, and hazelnut, I think.”

“Columbian is fine.” 45 seconds later, he was sipping from a heavy stoneware mug. “Mmm, God, that’s good.”

Jennifer chuckled. “Damn, you’re easy. Go take your shower. I’ll meet you downstairs in half an hour.”

He backed out the door, and Jennifer turned and made her way to her bathroom. She turned on the shower and let out a little scream when she saw Jon’s reflection in the mirror. He had an evil grin on his face.

“Ya know, we could conserve water and share that shower,” he said, with a leer.

“Aw, babe, now I know you’re teasing. There isn’t enough time for me to enjoy a proper shower with you. Hell, there’s barely enough time to wash that hair. We’ve only got half an hour.” She slid the robe off her shoulders. “So I suggest you get back to your room before you get too tempted and miss your interview this morning.” She put her hands in the neck of Richie’s t-shirt and started to pull.

“Tease,” Jon said, laughing. He left her room, shaking his head at her. He was glad she was comfortable enough around him to tease and flirt, especially since it looked like Rich was going to keep her around for a while. He was serious when he’d asked his friend when he was going to marry Jennifer, and he suspected Rich was serious when he’d said that he’d marry her today if she’d do it.

Jennifer and Jon met up in the kitchen at a few minutes before five. “Ready?” Jennifer asked.

“Yep,” he answered. “Thanks again for the hospitality.”

“Please, it’s what friends do. Thanks for the distraction.”

“Anytime.”

They went out to her garage, and aimed for the Caddy. “I’ve been taking the Tahoe because it’s the only car I could get my leg into straight. Now I can drive the Caddy,” Jennifer said, grinning like a fool. “Hopefully I’ll be back on the Harley soon.”

“Just don’t push yourself,” Jon counseled. “Take your time and take it slow.”

“Yes, dear,” Jennifer answered, rolling her eyes. Jon hesitated at the car door. “Jon, there’s a Dunkies about a half mile from the stadium,” she said. “We can stop there and you can get in the back while I run in for a bagel.”

“Are you in my head?”

Jennifer laughed. “No, but I am sleeping with a rock star. I’m way more conscious of appearances now than I was at the start of the summer.” She knew that there would be press outside the stadium to catch a glimpse not only of Jon but of the Krafts and the players who were being interviewed. It would cut down on the speculation if it looked like Jennifer was his driver.

They made the switch, and when they pulled into the stadium, the press was there in full force, and it wasn’t even 5:30 yet. Jennifer shook her head. “How do you put up with all this?”

Jon smiled. “With a smile and a wave. What else can you do?” He reached over the seat and squeezed Jennifer’s shoulder. “Thanks again,” he said. “See you soon, I hope.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck with your parents and T this weekend.”

“Thanks.”

“Break a leg,” Jennifer said, tongue-in-cheek. Jon was laughing when he got out of the car.

He got through the interview and hung around to talk to the Krafts and the players after their parts were done. When he finally got out of there, it was close to 9:30. He donned his shades and hat and went outside. He smiled when he saw the car waiting. The driver took his bag and opened the door, letting Jon settle into his seat. The driver stowed Jon's bag in the trunk and climbed into the car. "Logan, sir?"

"You got it," Jon said. "Is there any water back here?"

"Check the little cooler on the floor," the driver said. "Ms. Petruzzo asked that we provide a drink and snack for you."

Jon chuckled when he saw his favorite brand of bottled water and a couple of big apples in the cooler. Yeah, he thought, Rich has himself a keeper.

He got to the airport and through security and settled into his seat without any hassles, for which he was grateful. He settled into his seat and waited for takeoff. He'd be on the ground in a few hours, and on the way to his parents'.

Flirty Birds

2010-01-25T10:00:00.027-05:00

Richie was also on the board, and laughed at the PMs he had received from Jennifer and Jon, practically at the same time.

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO KING LOUIE:
Baby you should have told me Jon was coming. I had next to nothing on when he got here. He looks tired and worried about T's meeting his parents, but he's safe and snug in Gail's room lol....I offered him the place where Stephanie sleeps, but he turned me down.

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO KING LOUIE:
Man, thanks ever so much for NOT calling Jen before I got here. Fuckwad, I showed up with no advance warning and she was barely wearing anything. I thought seriously about taking her off your hands at that point, but I knew T would kill me. So, consider that bullet dodged, jackass. You’re welcome.

Gotta tell ya, that's one hot woman ya got there, bro. I tried to flirt my way into her bed, and she called me on the bullshit. She's great! I love her already. When are you two getting married?

Married. Richie sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together, resting his hands on his stomach. Sure he loved Jennifer, but wasn’t it too soon to be talking about marriage? “Fucking hell,” Richie said. “Thanks a lot, Jon,” he muttered. Now all he’d be able to think about was Jennifer in a long, white dress. The more he thought about it, the more appealing it became. He fired off a quick note to Jon.

PM FROM KING LOUIE TO BILLY THE KIDD:
Hey, you could have called her, too, bro. Sorry about that, but damn, she just told me she was only wearing a t-shirt. I trust you kept your hands to yourself... And yeah, like you COULD take her "off my hands". You're not her type.

Besides, in her heels, she'd tower over you, and you hate that shit.

I love her too, bro, and I'd marry her tomorrow if she'd have me.

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO KING LOUIE:
Hell, I'd just get her not to wear her heels.

Besides, why in the hell do you always have to go straight for the height jab? Damn, you're getting grumpy in your old age... And, when I turn on the charm, I instantly become any woman's "type".

Jennifer was chuckling at Jon. He was playing on the board and writing PMs to her, telling her what he was saying to Rich. He was being silly and she was giggling like an idiot. He really was a lot of fun when he let his hair down.

Yawning and stretching, she congratulated herself on acting normally when Jon showed up unannounced at her house. She thought she did quite well to not trip over her tongue when he walked past her in the mud room. Damn, that man was made for tight jeans. She hadn’t really had any one-on-one time with him since England, and she wasn’t sure what he’d be like, but he was sweet and charming, and when he was flirting with her, even though she knew it was only in jest, she couldn’t help the little shock that ran through her.

She groaned and rubbed her forehead. Why was she even thinking like that? Maybe it was the wine with dinner.

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD:
HOW much of that wine did you get? I feel like I drank more than half the bottle.

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO THE GODDESS HATHOR:
Maybe you feel like you drank more than half, because you DID!
Tell Rich how hard it was to keep your hands off me. He'll get a kick outta that I'm sure.

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD:
Damn.....I didn't think I had THAT much.... and if I recall, I did put my hands on you...just before you decided my bed wasn't good enough for you *snicker*

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO THE GODDESS HATHOR:
Baby, I never said your bed wasn't good enough for me. And it's not too late to change rooms.
I'll be right there. Just let me say good night to everyone. Wouldn't wanna be rude, ya know?

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD:
Yeah, sure
I don't lock my doors
Fair warning, I've lost the shorts, there babe, and it freaked you out once already today.

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO THE GODDESS HATHOR:
You've lost the shorts?! Hot damn, doll, I'll be right there. It didn't freak me out. I was just heart broken on being tempted by forbidden fruit. But, now you tell me it's not forbidden.

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD:
Isn't forbidden fruit sweeter? And it's alright, babe, you come to Mama, I'll make you feel alllll better

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO THE GODDESS HATHOR:
Forbidden fruit IS sweeter as long as she's not the one doing the forbidding. And since you're not forbidding.... Hey if I'm calling you 'mama', will you call me 'Big Daddy'?

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD:
hmmm, I'd like to think I'd be calling you "Oh my gaaaaawwwwwddddd", but I guess I can settle for "Big Daddy". You are taking WAY too long to get your ass in here. I'm starting without you.

Jennifer was laughing outright. Jon was a terrible flirt, almost as bad as Richie. She heard him shout, “I’m comin’ down the hall any minute, doll!”

“Believe it when I see it, baby,” she yelled back.

In his room, Jon chuckled. He was sitting against the headboard with his ankles crossed having one hell of a time. He decided it was time to have some fun at his buddy’s expense.

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO KING LOUIE:
Did you know that your girl, a hard core Richie girl, just told me her door was unlocked?
*Be right there, Jen*

Jon had to laugh when he got Richie’s response. Damn, looking at the screen, he couldn’t tell if Richie was taking it as a joke or not. That made it funnier. Richie was quick to become jealous. Aside from his up-until-now shitty taste in women, that was his one character flaw. It was just so damned easy to push Rich’s buttons.

And so damned fun.

PM FROM KING LOUIE TO BILLY THE KIDD:
You just stay the fuck in your room, if you want to live to see your wedding day.

Hands.

Off.

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO KING LOUIE:
Hands off, you say?
So, the tongue is okay, then? She’ll be so pleased. I’m very good with my tongue.

Richie was getting pissed. What the hell was Jen doing, encouraging Jon like that? He dialed her number and waited.

When the phone rang, Jennifer yelled, “You’re in the shit now, Jon! Richie’s calling.” She was giggling as she picked up the phone. “Hey there, baby,” she purred. “What’s up?”

“What the hell are you doing with Jon?” Riche demanded, putting Jennifer on the defensive. “Have you been drinking wine?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, Jon and I shared a couple bottles of a lovely white while we were making and eating dinner.” She was trying hard not to get angry at Richie’s insinuation. She knew that when she drank wine, her emotions ran high. She had no idea what Jon had been telling Rich, but it was time to set him straight. “Look, I'm not doing ANYTHING with Jon; it’s just banter.”

Richie sighed and backed off a little. “Baby, I was just checking. Jon's talking smack and I wanna know how pissed at him to get. He goes too far over the line, you let me know.”

“Do you really think I’d do anything with him? Seriously?” Richie hesitated just a beat too long. “Never mind,” she added. “I see. Thanks for the trust.”

“Jen, it’s just that – ”

“Spare me the sob story, Rich. If you really think I’d even be interested in another guy when I have you, not to mention one who’s sleeping with one of my good friends, and not to MENTION that he’s practically your brother, then you have deeper issues than I can deal with while I have wine on board. Now you’re killing my buzz. I will try to forget this conversation happened. And the day I can’t handle a little banter and keep it platonic is the day I hang up my Goddess title and go back to being a mere mortal. Back off. Good night, Rich.”

“I love you, Jen,” Richie said.

“Yeah, well, for some reason, I don’t quite believe you right now. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Richie stared at his phone when Jen hung up on him. Hung up on him! She’d never done that before.

Jen was fuming. Time to dial it up a notch. If Jon was telling Richie everything they were saying, may as well make it something to get worked up over.

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD:
Message delivered, babe. Now hurry up before I finish without yooouuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..... too late. damn....mmmmmmmmmmm

PM FROM BILLY THE KIDD TO THE GODDESS HATHOR:
Oh, baby, that was just an appetizer. I'll be right there; I've got enough skillz to make you go again...and again....and again.

PM FROM THE GODDESS HATHOR TO BILLY THE KIDD:
Well hurry. I don't like to come all the way down before I go up and over again...and again...and again....
Plus, we have to get up in like ugh, three and a half hours. May as well not even go to sleep at this point.

There. Jen knew that Jon was passing along these message to Rich -- let Rich put that in his pipe and smoke it.

Surprise Houseguest

2010-01-18T10:00:00.000-05:00

A week later, Jennifer left work early to go to her orthopedist’s office. He examined the flexibility of her leg shortly before five, and was encouraged by the near 90 degrees of motion. He told her she needed a couple more weeks with the brace, but now she should try to walk normally, bending her leg, and she should start doing light stretches to try to loosen up the stiffened muscles. After two weeks, she’d go back to the doctor and they’d re-assess, and most likely start a course of physical therapy.

What made her happiest was that she didn’t have to wear the brace 24x7. She was able to leave it off when she was home, as long as she wasn’t really moving around too much. And she didn’t need to wear it in bed. “Thank god,” she said to her doctor, who laughed.

“Just take it easy,” the doc said. “The muscles around your knee are very weak, and if you over-do, they could become damaged again.

She got stuck in traffic on the way home, but didn’t care. She felt as if she’d been given a reprieve. When she hit her driveway around 6:30, she took mental inventory of what was in the fridge for dinner. After parking out front, and exhaling sharply, Jennifer climbed from her car and took tentative, almost normal steps to her front door. She brought her gear into the living room, and sat on the couch. She unwrapped her leg and did some gentle stretches. Things felt good. She smiled a purely happy smile and leaned back on the couch.

She rewrapped her knee and slowly made her way upstairs to change. She took a quick shower and pulled one of Richie’s “Care for Kelly” t-shirts on over her panties. It came to mid-thigh and still smelled of him. Smiling, she carefully made her way downstairs again. She was poking around the kitchen, still trying to figure out what she wanted to have for dinner when the buzzer by the door rang. Someone was at her gate. Jennifer was puzzled because her friends all had the gate code, or would call first so she would have the gate open for them.

“Yes?” she said into the intercom.

“Jen? Hey, uh, it’s Jon.”

Jennifer was concerned. What the hell was her brother doing here? He should be at work. “John, sweetie, what’s wrong? Is everything okay with Sue? Why didn’t you use the code? Gawd, come on up.” She hit the release on the gate, and went out onto the porch to wait, wringing her hands anxiously. She saw a taxi wind up the driveway.

“What the hell?” she asked, and hobbled down the stairs. She was waiting on the edge of the driveway when the car stopped. She pulled open the back door. “John! Where’s your truck? What happ – oh, SNAP!” She took a staggered step backwards when she saw Jon Bon Jovi get out of the car, not John Petruzzo, who she expected. “What are you doing here? What’s happened?”

Jon smiled wanly, and reached an arm out to steady her. “You haven’t talked to Rich today, I take it?” Jon paid the cab driver, took his bag out of the back and watched as the car wound down the drive.

“No, I haven’t talked to him yet,” Jennifer said. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing major,” Jon said, “just that Cheryl, my assistant, fucked up something with my reservation and I didn’t have anywhere close by to stay. Rich said you wouldn’t mind.”

Jon was scheduled to appear on CNBC’s Squawk Box the next morning at 6am at Gillette Stadium, which was about 20 minutes away from Jennifer’s house.

“Of course I don’t mind, but shit, I would have put pants on if I knew you were coming,” she said, blushing.

Jon leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Thanks, and I won’t tell Rich you greeted me wearing nothing but a t-shirt.”

Jennifer laughed. “Have you eaten? I was just about to make dinner. Grab your gear.” She turned and started for the stairs.

“You’re moving around pretty well,” Jon commented, hastening to catch up with her when she ascended the stairs. Just in case he saw something he shouldn’t.

“Yeah, I got the go-ahead to walk today. HALLELUJAH!” she shouted, raising her arms to the heavens.

Jon clapped a hand over his eyes. “Jesus, Jennifer, don’t do that without pants on!”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m used to girl houseguests,” she said, “or Rich, who doesn’t care if I’m wearing pants or not.”

“Yeah well,” Jon said wryly. “One thing I am not is Rich.” He came up beside her and growled in her ear, “or a girl.”

Jennifer led him into the house and ducked into the mudroom to pull a pair of shorts from the dryer. “Go on through,” she said, and then when she was sure that Jon was in the kitchen, stepped into the soft jersey shorts.

“So, you buying into my team or not?” Jennifer asked, as she pulled a bottle of white wine from the chiller next to the fridge. She handed it to Jon along with a corkscrew, and pointed at the cabinet where the wine glasses were.

Jon chuckled and said, “You’ll have to tune in tomorrow to find out, doll.” He grinned at her and retrieved two glasses. After expertly uncorking the wine, he poured two glasses. “To surprises,” Jon said, clinking his glass to hers.

“To surprises,” Jennifer echoed, and sipped her wine. “So, I was deciding between chicken picatta and pork stir-fry. What are you in the mood for?”

“Whatever is fine, really,” Jon said. “In fact, I can take you out if you want. It’s the least I can do.”

“No offense, Jon, but I don’t even want to THINK about what the press would say if they photographed us together then learned you were staying here.” She raised her glass in a mock salute. “Besides, I don’t want to get all dressed again. I’m not going back upstairs until it’s time for bed.”

“Then let me know what I can do,” Jon said. “For the stir-fry.”

Jennifer pointed out where the wok and oil were, and he got the meat cooking while she expertly diced the vegetables, and set rice on to boil. She turned on the warming oven and took a foil-wrapped package out of the fridge and slid it in. At Jon’s raised eyebrow, she said, “leftover apple pie. Gotta have it warm.”

They had a nice dinner and light conversation, getting more acquainted with each other. “Hey,” Jennifer said while they were enjoying pie and coffee, “did you call T and let her know that you weren’t at whatever hotel you were supposed to stay at?”

Jon nodded. “I tried, but she wasn’t picking up, and her voicemail was full.” He laughed. “I’ll bet she’s doing it on purpose, afraid I’m gonna have my mother call her.” He wanted T to get to know his family, but she was balking. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he told Jen about it.

“Oh Jon, she’ll be alright,” Jennifer said. “She’s just nervous. Hell, when Rich showed up with Joan in tow, I thought I was gonna die.” Jennifer stood and started to clear the dishes. Jon helped her rinse and stack them in the dishwasher.

“You did fine,” Jon said. “Joan loves you, and so does Ava.”

“I know,” Jennifer said, “and I love them right back.” She put a gentle hand on Jon’s arm. “Your parents and kids will love T. And she’ll love them. You’ll see.”

“I hope so,” Jon said. “Listen, thanks again for letting me crash, but don’t let me keep you from whatever you were gonna do.” He was looking through the doorway into the hallway, trying to see what was back there.

Jennifer smiled. “I wasn’t gonna do anything but hang out. You want the fifty-cent tour?”

“Absolutely,” Jon said, “as long as you’re up to it.”

“It’s fine,” Jennifer answered. She led Jon through the downstairs, and he laughed at the image of her sitting in the fireplace to stay warm. He loved the game room and the media room, and she told him about the tunnels under the basement that were part of the Underground Railroad. He said he hoped he could come back sometime when he had more time to explore the basement and attics.

She led him upstairs and showed him Ava’s room, then the rest of the bedrooms. “So, which one is mine?”

Jennifer laughed. “Well I don’t think Laura Ashley is your style, so not Ava’s room. I guess you can stay where Joan or Gail sleeps.” She paused dramatically. “Or where Stephanie sleeps.”

Jon sidled closer to her. “And what about sleeping where Rich sleeps?” He wagged his eyebrows at her.

Jennifer put a hand on his chest. “Baby, that’s the same place where Stephanie sleeps.”

Jon gawped and took a step back. “I’ll take Gail’s room.”

Jennifer chuckled and showed him the way, letting him get settled. “Make yourself at home in my house,” she told him from the doorway. “There’s towels and shit in the bathroom through there,” she pointed. “What time do you need to get up?”

“How far away is Gillette?”

“Like 20 minutes. I guess you have to be there like at what, 5:30?” Jon nodded. “Then leaving here by 5 should do. That’s when I usually leave; do you want a ride?”

“I can take a cab,” Jon said. “I’ve got to head to the airport after the interview to head out to Florida to pick up my parents.”

“Are you sure?” Jennifer said. “It really is no trouble.” She chuckled. “I can arrange for a car for you for afterwards; I have them on speed dial, and they like me.”

Jon considered the offer. “If you’re sure it won’t be too much trouble, that all sounds great.”

“No trouble,” she said, and made the call. “Alright,” she said. “You’re all set. They’ll be at Gillette a little before six.”

Jon crossed the room. “Thanks again,” he said, and bussed her cheek.

“Alright, I’m gonna go get settled in my room. It’s the one at the end of the hall near the stairs. No midnight wandering if you please,” she said, winking at him.

Jon sighed dramatically. “You spoil all my fun.” He stuck his tongue out at her.

Jennifer burst out laughing. “Good night, Jon.”

“’Night, Jennifer.”

She went to her room and got ready for bed, then logged onto the board. She laughed out loud. Jon beat her there.

Date Night

2010-01-11T10:00:00.001-05:00

At five o’clock Friday evening, Jennifer took her garment bag out of the closet, grabbed her stuff, fully intending to head down to the second floor where the main command center desk was. The second floor had full locker rooms, as the staff there often pulled all-night shifts. Before she could get into the elevator, though, Howard stopped her.

“Jennifer,” he said, “you haven’t come back to see me.”

“Howard, I am not in the mood,” she said snottily. “I have a date tonight that I am already late for because of the stupid trading issue that should have been resolved by lunchtime.” She sighed. “Look, I’m not prepared to quit today. I am also not prepared to take any bullshit from you and Legal. You decide if you trust me or not. If you don’t, I’ll give you my resignation willingly. If you do, back the fuck off and let me do my job.”

“Fair enough,” Howard said, shocked at her language. She never talked like that at work. “For what it’s worth, I personally don’t have a problem with you. If it were up to me, this never would have come up.”

“Howard, you are the COO. It was up to you.” She thought back to her conversation with Richie. Dammit, she thought. “But, I do know where you’re coming from, I guess. You have to protect the company’s reputation, no matter what. I get it. I don’t have to like it, but I get it.”

Howard smiled a little. “Have a nice weekend.”

“Back atcha, Howard.”

After showering and changing, Jennifer felt better. She wrapped her long tresses up into a chignon, though she knew Richie preferred she leave it down. She put on the jewelry he had given her, slid on flip-flops that would be hidden by the dress, applied minimal makeup, and went down to the lobby. The evening guard whistled as she went past, and she waved a thanks to the man. She smiled when she saw the stretch Humvee outside. She was getting excited now, to see what he and Vincent had cooked up.

“Vincent!” she called from the stairs. “Good evening!”

“Evening, Ms. Petruzzo,” he answered. “You ready for your date?”

Jennifer laughed. “You gonna tell me what the hell is going on?” she said as she approached the car.

Vincent put his hand on the door handle. “Nope. You’ll find out in a second.”

He whipped the door open, and handed Jennifer up into the car. She saw a flash of black out of the corner of her eye and turned. Her heart leapt up to her throat, and her pulse kicked into overdrive. It was the closest to an actual swoon as she had ever come.

“RICH!” she shrieked and threw herself across the car to sit in his lap, and held him close. “Is it really you?” she asked, touching his face, his hair, and his shoulders. She barely registered the car starting and pulling away from the curb.

“It’s really me, darlin’,” Richie said. “You look amazing.” He framed her face and kissed her long and hard, pulling her very breath from her lungs until she thought she’d be permanently dizzy.

Jennifer pulled back. “So do you.” He was wearing a black tux over a stark white shirt. Deep, royal purple tie, cummerbund, and pocket square provided splashes of color. His hair was mussed now from their kisses, and a discreet gold hoop hung from his piercing. “God, I missed you,” she said, and kissed him again.

Richie wound his fingers into her up-do and pulled the pins from it. “You promised you’d always wear it down for me,” he admonished, unwinding her hair and letting the damp tresses fall around them.

Jennifer’s fingers went to Richie’s tie. She had it undone in seconds, and the first few buttons of his shirt open before he could protest. The words dried up when she wormed her hand inside the shirt and stroked his chest. It was smooth and warm, and Jennifer thought the very best thing she had touched in a week. Her other hand cupped the back of Richie’s head and brought his mouth to hers. With tender, loving strokes, their tongues danced for long minutes until they felt the car make a turn. Jennifer pushed back, flushed from their kisses, and looked out the window.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I couldn’t bear to wait until we got to your house to ravage you, so I took a room downtown” Richie said. Looking down at his exposed chest, he added, “And I see you couldn’t even wait that long.”

“Nope, it’s never too soon,” Jennifer answered, doing up his buttons. “But I can put my hormones on hold if it offends your delicate sensibilities,” she said, re-tying his bow tie. She kissed the tip of his nose. “There you go.” She settled in to his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re really here,” she said. “What a wonderful surprise.”

“I missed you,” he said simply, and tightened his arms around her.

Minutes later, they were pulling up to the Copley Plaza Hotel. A uniformed man opened the car door and Richie got out, and leaned back in to hand Jennifer down from the car. He tucked her arm in his, and she leaned on him for support, leaving her cane behind. Richie led them into the elevator, and up to the top floor. They stopped outside his room, and this time the key was in his hand before they even got to the door.

After Richie had the suite’s door open, he scooped Jennifer into his arms and brought her into the room. He went straight to the dining area and deposited her in a chair. Jennifer giggled when Richie flamboyantly shook out a napkin and draped it in her lap. He went to the sideboard and brought over a silver-lidded tray. He bowed and lifted the cover.

Strawberries and cream.

“Darlin’, the first course.” Richie winked and sat next to Jennifer. He took a berry, swiped it through the freshly whipped cream and held it in front of her mouth. Jennifer slowly stretched her tongue out all the way to lap at the cream with just its tip, and Richie groaned. Jennifer locked eyes on Richie and grabbed his wrist with both hands. She brought his hand closer to her mouth and put the berry in it. Without breaking eye contact, she sucked the whipped cream off it, leaving the berry intact. When she backed away she saucily wiped at the corner of her mouth with her tongue and smiled.

“More,” she said softly. Richie dipped the berry again, and this time Jennifer took it to the stem with one bite. Richie squirmed in his seat, but fed her berries until he thought he was going to shiver himself out of his chair.

“Are you ready for the next course?” Richie asked heavily.

“Is it you?” Jennifer asked.

“Don’t you want the bruschetta?” Richie leaned forward so his lips were a micron away from hers.

Jennifer smiled. “I do like Italian.”

Richie laughed and kissed her softly. “Me, too.” He tapped the end of her nose and crossed the room to put on some music. He came back and held out his hand. Jennifer slipped her hand into his and he eased her up and into his arms. They swayed back and forth while Richie sang a little Nat King Cole in her ear.

It’s very clear
Our love is here to stay
Not for a year
But ever and a day

The radio and the telephone
And the movies that we know
May just be passing fancies
And in time may go

But oh, my dear, our love is here to stay
Together were going a long, long way

In time the Rockies may crumble,
Gibraltar may tumble
They’re only made of clay
But our love is here to stay

Richie let his hands wander down to Jennifer’s ass, and pulled her gently against him, letting her feel his arousal. “That’s all for you,” Richie said, kissing her neck. “Only for you.”

Jennifer took one of Richie’s hands, and brought it up to her breast, whose peak had pebbled up. Richie could feel it thorough the chiffon of her dress. “And that is for you,” she answered.

Richie reached behind Jennifer and lowered the zipper on her dress. She gave a little shimmy, and the dress fell to her feet. Richie gasped when he saw she was wearing the thong from the photos she had sent. He helped Jennifer step out of the puddle of crepe and chiffon. He smiled at her, and plucked the gown from the floor and draped it over one of the chairs. He let his fingertips trace a line from her neck, down over her shoulders, and around the swell of her breasts. He traced her ribs and ran them along the sides of her thong. He slid his fingers into the elastic, and pulled, kneeling to allow Jennifer to step out of them.

He stood slowly, now trailing his fingers up her legs, skimming up her thighs to their juncture. He felt her moisture and smiled at her. He opened his arms and she melted into him, her skin pressed up against the fabric of his clothing. “You’re far too dressed,” Jennifer said. She slid the jacket off Richie’s shoulders, and turned to toss it on the chair with her gown. She again pulled the end of his bow tie, and unbuttoned his shirt. This time, she pulled the tails out of his cummerbund and slid it off his shoulders; the waist adornment following. Jennifer groaned appreciatively at the expanse of wide, brown chest. She traced her fingernails over his pecs, tickling the top of his ribcage. She scraped down his abs to the button of his pants. She flipped that open and slid down the zipper. She gave a push, and Richie helped push them to the floor.

Jennifer greedily wrapped her hand around his cock, glad he went without boxers today. Richie toed off his shoes and kicked them and his pants away. He hauled Jennifer to him, lifting her and carrying her to the bed. He laid her down gently and slowly slid into her body. “I love you,” Richie said, as he started the slow roll of his hips that he knew drove her crazy.

“I love you too,” Jennifer growled as his pumping grew more insistent, and her breathing grew more ragged. She gripped Richie’s shoulders and pulled him down for a kiss as she shattered beneath him. A moment later, he did too.

Several hours later, they woke from a sated slumber, showered, and had something to eat. They cuddled together, kissing tenderly and stroking each other lovingly. “Darlin’,” Richie started, “did you decide what you were going to do about work?” He was stroking a finger up and down her arm, watching the gooseflesh rise.

“Mmmm, I can’t think when you do that,” Jennifer said, “but don’t stop.” She leaned her head back against Richie’s shoulder. “I’m not going to change anything right now,” she said. “That would just give credence to the rumor. I will handle it like I do everything else: with a little bit of decorum, and a whole lot of sass. I am NOT going to let those bastards drive me from a job I love.”

Richie smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Jennifer had closed her eyes, so she didn’t notice. He thought of the small box he had packed in his luggage: a box with the keys to his house in LA and the Philly condo. He wanted to ask her to consider moving to LA with him. If she had been on the fence about leaving her job, he was going to try to persuade her to do it. She sounded really adamant about keeping her job, though, and decided that this wasn’t the right time to ask.

The entire flight home, he wondered if he had made a mistake.

Lunch and Lawsuits

2010-01-04T10:00:00.000-05:00

Thanks, Queenie, for writing the lunch bit of this installment

Stephanie stood, looking at herself in the mirror, she had found a great red slip of a sundress and the new strapless bra helped it to look fantastic. Her chocolate brown curls were twisted loosely up and pinned with her new crystal adorned hairpins, leaving her long graceful neck exposed. She smiled, he asked for it.

Stephanie had come to California to visit her new friends from the board, Denise and Lucia. Lucia, originally from Chicago, moved out to be with her new beau, Jeff and Denise had hired her as her assistant. The girls had become quite friendly on the board so here she was, on vacation in California.

When Richie had discovered that Stephanie was going to be in California while he was home, he had asked Hath for her number so they could get together. Stephanie hadn’t minded, after all she had met him already flirted with him, and she was fairly sure she could handle him face to face.

Okay, spray of Freesia, the body mist floated in the air and settled all around her. Lip gloss. Stephanie chuckled; she had found a tube of bubblegum lip gloss, complete with the roller ball applicator, at her local Walmart. It took her back to her junior high days when all she was allowed to wear was lip gloss, but Richie had said bubblegum, so bubblegum he was getting. She slicked it on and nearly shuddered, no wonder I stopped wearing this gunk. Shoes. She slid her feet into strappy low-heeled sandals, perfect for walking in. She grabbed her purse and was off.

She walked up Ventura toward the restaurant. They were meeting at Mexicali Cocina. It was a beautiful sunny day and she hoped they would be able to sit outside. As she neared the restaurant she slowed and scanned the area for Richie. She spotted him sitting at one of the outside tables, sipping on a glass of water. She stopped for a minute and just looked at him; damn Hath is one lucky beyotch. He had on a dark blue button down and of course half the buttons were undone and she was guessing jeans, but she couldn’t tell as he was sitting down.

Before she got close enough for him to notice her, Stephanie took out her small mirror, slicked on a touch more lip gloss and took a breath. Here we go.

Richie noticed her as she walked up. Damn, Hath sure has some beautiful friends. He had to chuckle, she had worn her hair up. He wondered for a moment why someone as lovely as she was didn’t have a man in her life. Her ex must have been a real prize.

Stephanie walked up to the hostess but before she could lead her to the table, Richie stood and the hostess let her go. “Hello darlin’.” He took her hand, tugging her close for a kiss. “You look lovely.” He licked his lips, “bubble gum?” She nodded, “you said that’s what you wanted.” He laughed, “that I did darlin’.”

They settled in for a lovely lunch, punctuated with lots of smiles and laughter. By dinner time, there were pictures all over the tabloids about Richie and his new lover.

Jennifer knew that the lunch between Stephanie and Richie was innocent. She knew that the photos that accompanied the item were taken out of context. And she thought it was funny that Krissy and her other girlfriends would think she’d be upset over the “Richie and the Strange Brunette”. Please. But she loved them for being indignant on her behalf.

What she didn’t find funny was the TMZ item that had brought up her decade-old, long resolved problem with the SEC....or being called into the COO’s office when she got into work that morning.

“What’s up, Howard?” Howard wasn’t smiling; Howard always smiled. Jennifer’s heart sunk. “What’s happened?”

Howard spoke quietly. “Shut the door, Jennifer.” After Jennifer complied, he motioned for her to sit. She did.

“You’re making me extremely nervous,” Jennifer said. “Please, what’s happened?”

“Tell me about the SEC investigation.”

“What? That’s ancient history.” Jennifer was confused. “Why bring this up now?”

Howard let out a heavy sigh. “You know that we monitor publicity on certain individuals in the company, well, because of the amount of money you support, and the information you have access to, you’re on the list. There was this article…”

“Oh my GOD, you’re talking about that idiotic TMZ thing?” Howard said nothing. Jennifer shook her head. “Look, I know you know about the investigation because I fully disclosed everything when I was going through the interview process. I have been nothing but up-front and honest with you.”

Howard smiled; though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Please, give me a little more credit than to trust a rag like TMZ,” he said. “But, some enterprising reporter over at the Globe ran with it, and dug up the old information and did a ‘then and now’ kind of thing. I’ve got to say,” Howard said, “that they made quite a few people nervous.”

“People? You mean legal and compliance?” Howard nodded. Jennifer’s color started to get high, and she had to concentrate on keeping her voice level. “Howard, I have been nothing but loyal to you, this division, and this company for more than five years. I have done nothing that even hints of scandal, and this episode from more than ten years ago was cleared by the SEC. The Boston SecChief to be exact.” She leveled a stare at Howard. “I will not let this company slander my name.”

Howard held up his hands. “Jennifer, you have to understand, I have to ask. I know you haven’t done anything here that wasn’t on the up-and-up. I would be remiss if I didn’t talk to you about this – we are named in the paper.”

Jennifer sighed. She was prepared for the personal bashing about her looks or her fashion sense or whatever as being tied to Richie, but she never expected another attack on her professionalism and integrity. “Howard, and you have to understand. I will not stand idly by. Tell me right now, are you seeking to sever our relationship over a decade-old rumor?”

Howard was thoughtful for a moment. “No. But to be clear, Legal is going to be watching you.”

Jennifer stood with as much dignity as she could muster. “You should have my decision by the end of the day, whether I can continue to work for a company that does not trust in the loyalty of its employees.” She was shaking when she left his office. When she got to her desk, it was 9:00. Way too early to call Richie, she thought, but tough.

“’Lo?” A deep sleepy voice answered the phone, and Jennifer had a mental image of him laying in bed, with just a sheet across his hips for modesty.

“Baby, it’s me. Sorry it’s early, but I have to talk to you.”

Richie sat up. “Jennifer, darlin’, what’s wrong?” He shook his head to get the sleep fog to dissipate.

“Did you see the rags this morning? They captured your little tête-à-tête with Stephanie yesterday.”

“Jennifer, you know that….” Richie started to talk, but Jennifer interrupted.

“Baby, I know. I was just teasing. I think it’s hysterical. What isn’t hysterical is that they mentioned the SEC bullshit from the 90’s, the local papers here picked it up and ran a ‘where is she now’ piece, and I just left my COO’s office after being told that I’m now being watched.”

“Jesus, Jen, I’m sorry.” Richie ran a hand through his hair. “What are you going to do?”

Jennifer sighed and left her desk, heading for an empty conference room. “I don’t know. This is pissing me off. I’ve done nothing wrong, and am being treated, by a man who I’ve worked with for more than five years, as a suspicious person. I don’t need that shit.”

Richie swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Baby, I can’t believe they honestly believe any of that shit. They’re just being careful.”

“You’re taking their side?” Jennifer was incredulous.

“Not taking their side, just – I see their point. They have to be careful.”

“Jesus.” Jennifer paced the small conference room as best she could, pushing her hand through her hair as she stalked.

“Jennifer,” Richie said.

“Quiet for a minute, I’m thinking.” Jennifer was actually livid. It wasn’t his fault that this happened. She knew that. But she still had an irrational urge to lash out at him. “Alright, I just wanted to let you know what was going on, and that I’m pissed. I have to decide what to do now. Damn it. Sorry I woke you.”

“Please, don’t be. You know you can call me anytime.” There was no answer from the other end. Richie said, “You know I love you, right?”

Jennifer sighed. “I know; I love you too. I guess I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” She hung up before Richie could say anything else.

Photo Shoot

2009-12-28T10:00:00.004-05:00

Richie was good to his word, and the next morning, the buzz at the front gate was Vincent, the driver Richie had hired for the week. Jennifer had to laugh at the monstrous stretch Humvee coming up the driveway. She certainly was going to make a statement arriving at work in THAT. Vincent was an older gentleman, very kind, and was there bright and early with a Diet Coke on ice for her. Jennifer laughed. Richie thought of everything.

Wednesday night, Jennifer couldn’t believe her eyes when Vincent handed her a large, flat box as she got to the car. When she carefully untied the wide, red ribbon and lifted the lid, Vincent had to keep her from sagging to the ground. Inside the box was a gorgeous silver gown. With shaking hands, she took it out of the box and held it up. It was a Goddess gown with an empire waist drape detail in crepe satin and chiffon. It had thin clear straps and a modest neckline, and it was absolutely gorgeous.

Under the gown was a note written in Richie’s strong, masculine scrawl.

Hi, baby...

I hope you’ll take a picture in THIS and let me see it...

I would love you to wear this on our “date” on Friday. In fact, Vincent will have a special surprise for you in the Hummer so you can see me and I can see you – I’d love to actually see you in the dress. Any chance you would be willing to change at work before leaving for the day?

I miss you and love you, and can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.

~ Rich
xx

When she got home, she read the note for the umpteenth time. She’d absolutely change into the gown for him, but she wouldn’t be all made up and coiffed like she would if they were going out. Smiling, she took out her cell phone and hit a button on her speed-dial.

“What are you doing tonight?” she asked her best friend, Krissy.

Krissy just laughed. “And good evening to you too, Jen.”

“Ha ha ha, very funny. Good evening, Ms. Krissy. Do you have plans for the evening?”

“Yeah,” her friend chuckled, “and so do you. We were going to the restaurant, remember?”

“About that...wanna help me with a project instead?” Jennifer was a little nervous, but she and Krissy had shared everything about each other over the dozen or so years they’d been friends, and she knew her friend wouldn’t judge her.

“Ooh, what kind of project?”

Jennifer told her about the dress Richie had sent her, and the picture request, and what she wanted to do. Krissy was enthusiastic about helping, and promised to be over within the hour. Jennifer took a shower and partially dried her hair, and had applied her foundation when Krissy let herself into the house.

“HELLO!” she called from the foyer.

“UPSTAIRS!” Jennifer yelled back.

Krissy came into the room and gave Jennifer a big hug. “You ready to get beautiful?” she asked, smiling.

“Absolutely.”

After pouring two glasses of white wine, Krissy worked on Jennifer’s hair, setting it in wide rollers while Jennifer applied her eye makeup. She had thickened her lashes with mascara, and tinted the lids with a vibrant coppery hue. She inserted clear lenses so her gray eyes would pick up the sheen from the gown, then lined her lower lid with Kohl. A coppery lipstick and pale peach blusher completed her makeup. The look was very dramatic and Jennifer smiled.

Amid much chatter and laughing, Krissy finished setting the rollers, then took out a small case from her bag. She had a set of tiny tweezers and a little tube of glue, and an acrylic box of sparkly body art. She laid out a pattern around Jennifer’s eyes with an eyeliner pencil, then carefully glued the dazzling jewels into place. A half hour later, Jennifer stared at her reflection in the mirror. Fat, glossy curls hung around her shoulders and were teased a little to give her hair body. Her makeup was flawless, and she was ready to get dressed.

She dropped the robe to reveal a flesh colored lace thong and fuzzy bedroom slippers. Krissy laughed at her. “Nice ensemble, Jen.”

Jennifer chuckled. “Shut up and help me with my dress,” she said. “And here,” she tossed the bra at Krissy. “Take this with you... for the next picture,” she said.

Careful not to muss the artistry the two women had created, they eased the gown over Jennifer’s head and settled it around her body. It fit her beautifully, the chiffon floating around her, and the crepe fabric drape making her look taller. What made Jennifer happiest was that it completely hid her brace, and you couldn’t tell from looking at her that she was wearing bedroom slippers. She looked longingly at her closet, where she knew she had the most perfect Ferragamo stiletto sandals, but she knew she couldn’t. Well shouldn’t at any rate. Soon though, she vowed.

“Where do you want to take the picture?” Krissy asked, distracting Jennifer from lusting after her shoes.

The women decided to go down to the pond on the back forty, and position Jennifer so you couldn’t see any of the buildings on the property. The sun was low in the sky, and there was a light breeze that teased her hair, blowing it gently toward the camera. Krissy fired of a barrage of photos, having Jennifer carefully turn this way or that. The best shot was one of Jennifer looking over the water, her arm raised to shield her eyes; the diamonds of her bracelet and the jewels around her eyes catching the sun. “That’s the one,” Krissy breathed, when they scrolled through the photos together.

“He will die,” Jennifer said, smiling. “And I can send it to the girls after, too.”

“Where do you want to do the other one?”

Jennifer blushed. “For sure, inside. I’m not that adventurous, even with no close neighbors.”

“I’ve read your stuff, Jen, and uh, yeah, you are.”

“No,” Jennifer corrected, “Hath is. I’m just her conduit.”

“Yeah well, channel her now, ‘cause outside on that chaise,” she indicated a wrought-iron chaise in the garden, “would be perfect, and if he died seeing this picture of you in the gown, the other will most certainly revive him and kill him again.”

The women walked toward the bench, and Krissy helped Jennifer get the gown up over her head. A cool breeze was blowing, and Jennifer instinctively covered her breasts with her hands. Krissy smiled and snapped a photo.

“What are you doing?”

“Killing Richie Sambora,” she said, shaking her head. “You have to send that one to him.”

“Gimme my bra,” Jennifer answered. When Krissy complied, Jennifer tucked herself into it then sat on the bench. With four rasps of Velcro, the brace was unfastened, and tossed aside. Jennifer arranged her legs so her left was straight, and the other bent at the knee. Her arms were arranged on top of her head, and she looked away from the camera, smiling.

“Nice, Jen,” Krissy said. “Now look like you’re heartbroken that Richie isn’t here.”

“That won’t be hard,” Jennifer said wryly, and relaxed her features. She remembered back to the airport on Friday, and Krissy nearly wept at the look on her friend’s face. Jen had certainly fallen hard, and the love and longing in her expression showed it.

“Now,” Krissy said softly, “don’t move.” She circled around to take a full-frame picture of her face. The edge of the bracelet hung over her forehead and some of her curls were blowing up around her cheeks. “Damn, Jen,” she said.

Back in the house, the girls loaded the pictures to Jennifer’s computer and went through them. They selected several to send to Richie, including the full-frame face. Her unmasked eyes very clearly showed Richie that she missed him and loved him and longed for him.

“I hope he likes them,” Jennifer said with an out-of-place tremor in her voice.

“Honey, if he doesn’t, then it’s because he’s been struck blind. Hell, I’m halfway turned on.”

Jennifer burst out laughing. “I so do NOT swing for pink, sweetie,” she said, “though I will give you a kiss.” Krissy touched her lips to Jen’s briefly in the way that girlfriends do.

“Hungry?” Krissy asked.

“Famished.”

The girls shared a pizza, laughing and talking until close to eleven. “Shit, look at the time,” Krissy said. “I have to go. This was fun,” she added.

“Thanks for helping me,” Jennifer said.

“Send the pictures,” Krissy admonished.

When her friend left, Jennifer went back up stairs to her computer. She composed an email to Richie and attached several of the pictures including the bare-breasted one and the close-up of her face.

FROM: TheGoddessHathor@gmail.com
TO: UndiscoveredStranger@gmail.com
Subject: Hey, Baby...

Hey Rich, baby, thanks so much for the gown. And yeah, you can have a picture (see attached). What the hell do you and Vincent have planned so you can see me? But yes, I can dress for you for Friday. I won’t look as good as I do in these photos, though. Trust me.

Hope you’re having fun at home, and tell Ava I miss her!

Love you,
~ Jen

PS, I really miss you too. That’s why I sent the OTHER attachments.... Love you

When Richie’s email pinged, he was ecstatic to see it was Jen. When he opened the email and read it, he smiled. Excellent. She’d be dressed up. He couldn’t wait. Then he saw all the attachments. There were four of them. The first one he opened made him suck in a breath. It was Jennifer in the gown, all made up standing by the water, shading her eyes. It looked like she was looking for someone, and her eyes held a touch of sadness. Richie touched the screen before he gave himself a shake.

The second photo he opened was the close-up of Jennifer’s face. He let out a long whistle and just stared. Quickly, he forwarded that photo to Jon with a simple note – “I’m one lucky sonofabitch.”

Heart pounding, he opened the next picture, and nearly fell out of his chair. There she was, reclining on a chaise, looking distracted and radiant. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her arms, raised over her head, down her neck to the barely-there bra that showed almost all of her starburst tattoo, across her toned abdomen and “his” tattoo, down across her hips and over the miles of leg. He frowned a little when he saw both her legs were naked, but got distracted by the last unopened photo.

Hands shaking, he double-clicked the little icon, and this time, leaned so close to the screen that the chair rolled out from under him, and he hit his chin on the desk. There she was, his Jennifer, standing in front of a garden with nothing on but her thong and a smile. Her hands were covering her up, but he could see the gooseflesh raised on her arms, and her hair was blowing all around her, so he knew it was windy, and she must have been chilly.

He stared at the picture for a good long while. Then he signed out of his email and picked up the phone. “Oh my GOD,” he said to her when she answered.

“So you got my pictures, then?” Jennifer answered, yawning widely.

“I sure did, and nearly bit my tongue off with that last one.” He was going to skip the question but had to ask. “Who took the pictures? They came out really good.”

Yeah, sure, Jennifer thought. THAT’S why you’re asking. “My best friend took them. She helped me with my hair and the glittery things around my eyes, too.”

“Well, you’ll have to thank her for me,” Richie said, not missing the bigger yawn that Jennifer made. “Baby, are you sleeping?”

“Not well,” Jennifer admitted. “I got used to sleeping with you I guess,” she said, trying for a light tone. “Also, I had some early days this week, and another early one tomorrow, so I’m wiped.”

“OK,” Richie said, disappointed. “Well, I guess I can let you go. Though I don’t want to.”

“So don’t,” Jennifer said. “I’ll put you on speaker, and you can talk to me until I fall asleep. I miss your voice,” she said, tears starting to clog her throat.

“I miss you too. I’ll be able to see you on Friday, though, and I’m not telling what Vincent and I have planned. That’d ruin it. Just suffice it to say, we figured out a way that you’ll be able to see me, and I’ll be able to see you.”

“I’m gonna be all dressed up,” Jennifer said, “are you?”

“Absolutely,” Richie said. He heard her moving around as she got ready for bed. The sound of running water, the setting of the alarm clock, flipping of light switches, and the rustle of bedclothes. “Are you in bed now?”

“Yep,” Jennifer said sleepily. “Before I forget, have fun with Stephanie tomorrow.” Steph was flying out to LA to visit with some of the California girls from the board, and Richie insisted she let him take her for lunch, and that she should wear her hair up. He had also lowered his voice seductively, and asked her to wear bubblegum lip gloss. It took all of 10 seconds for him to convince her to have lunch, and she and Jennifer had laughed over Richie’s other demands.

“Just do it,” Jennifer had said. “I bet you’d shock the hell out of him.” Steph agreed.

“I will have fun, baby, but I’ll miss you,” Richie promised.

He started talking to her about his day, and what he and Ava had been doing, and about T and Jon’s upcoming wedding, and before long he heard her steady breathing and knew she was asleep.

“Jennifer, darlin’, I want nothing more than to have you here with me right now,” he said. “I miss you so much my soul aches. I love you sweetheart, and will talk to you tomorrow.”

Didn't Mean To Miss Your Birthday

2009-12-21T10:00:00.008-05:00

By the end of the month, Jennifer still didn’t feel any better, and hadn’t come to any decisions about what to do with her future. Richie had been able to jet out for a few days in the middle of September, but they didn’t talk about “where do we go next”. In fact, they didn’t talk too much about anything, they just enjoyed being with each other. He’d been home for more than a week, and she still felt bereft.

Jennifer thought that the busyness of work would keep her mind off Richie, but it didn’t. She was mooning and pouting and finally so disgusted with herself, she sought out one of her friends to give her a reality check. She logged onto the board and chatted which helped, and she was able to get some of her backlog of work done. Jen spent a good deal of time whining to Stephanie about Richie, but once she got all the “poor me” out of her system, she felt loads better. Smiling, she said her goodbyes and logged off the board.

Minutes later, her email pinged. Stephanie wrote her, offering to come out and help her out of her funk. A funk, Jen thought, that she should be able to get herself out of alone. A funk she just had to shut up and get over. There was absolutely no reason for her to be so upset and distracted. Jen wrote back that it wasn’t necessary, but if she didn’t feel better by the weekend, she would take her friend up on the offer.

Smiling, she closed that message, and stared, slack-jawed at the one that had just arrived. It was from her ex-husband. She was tempted to read it, to see what he wanted, but if it was anything she needed to deal with (though she had no earthly idea what that could possibly be) he could get in touch with her through her lawyer. It felt good to click the little ‘x’ to delete the message without reading it, and tried to put him out of her mind, but Jen couldn’t help the direction her thoughts took.

In the beginning, things with her ex-husband were really good. The couple would go to dinner, to the theater, out with friends, or just hang out together. Their sex life was good, great actually, and they were always willing to try new things; always in synch with each other. Then, about two years before they split, things changed.

He started working late, and “forgetting” to call. She knew he was working on a new account, so cut she him some slack. Then came the business trips that came with his promotion. A few days here and there, then all of a sudden there was a week-long conference in Arizona. He didn’t call all week, claiming to be too busy. They traded emails and IMs, but they were impersonal and cold. When he was finally home, her ex was also impersonal and cold. They grudgingly went out with friends, and put on a good show for them, but behind closed doors, things were hard. They were roommates inhabiting the same house, but each of them had their own lives. The time apart became easier and easier to bear, and Jennifer actually started looking forward to when he would go away.

She tried to tell herself that it was her ex’s shortcomings, not hers that were the problem. She knew though, that she gave him the power to hurt her when she got too wrapped up in him, and she must share some of the blame, after all, she was in that marriage, too.

When Jennifer found out he was cheating on her, she wasn’t really surprised. Hurt, sure, but not really surprised. What did surprise her was his feeling of entitlement. He felt entitled to the affair…and her money. He felt that it was her fault he had to go elsewhere for the tenderness and love he craved, and she should be so grateful to be rid of someone she obviously didn’t love, that she should gladly pay him off.

Not fucking likely.

She used a healthy portion of a year’s salary to pay for the winningest divorce lawyer in Massachusetts. Claudia Despres made sure that her ex got nothing but his clothes and fishing trophies. What was Jennifer’s stayed Jennifer’s. The court battle was long and harsh, and Jen couldn’t believe some of the things this man, someone who promised to love her forever, spewed hatefully through his own lawyer. Jen was so devastated by his betrayal, that she decided there in the courtroom, as her husband’s attorney told the court how she was a neglectful, hateful woman, that she was never going to let a man get that far under her skin, that far into her life, that his actions would dictate her emotions.

Then she met Rich.

Then she fell in love with him, and all her good intentions flew out the window. She didn’t tie her happiness to him, but she fell hard all the same, and was so wrapped up in him, that she found herself overly emotional at the little things he did or didn’t do, and it was driving her nuts.

Richie never gave her any reason to believe he was anything other than devoted to her. In word and in deed, he was utterly, completely smitten and in love with her. She knew that. It was the only thing that kept her from running screaming in fear from their relationship. She knew by the little gifts he sent, and the flowers and cards that showed up every couple of days, that he was still thinking of her, and going the extra mile for her.

Then her birthday came.

That was the week that Richie had come to visit her in Boston and Jen was over the moon. Before she could ask him what he had planned for her birthday, he told her that he had to leave the night before her birthday to do something for Heather. He didn’t even mention Jen’s birthday. The fact that Jennifer and his ex shared a birthday was something they joked about in Southampton, when David accused Richie of using Jennifer as a substitute for his ex. She had brought it up, remarking that it was something she and his ex had in common, and she joked that he had celebrated Heather’s birthday for a dozen years, he should be sure to remember hers.

It looked like she was wrong.

That was really what started her on her spiral. She didn’t say anything to Richie because she didn’t want to whine about something stupid. The absolute last thing Jennifer wanted to do was come off as a whiny, clingy dipshit.

She was startled out of her reverie by Dionne and friends. Keep shining, keep smiling / Knowing you can always count on me / For sure / That’s what friends are for

Jennifer laughed. “Hey Cheryl,” she said by way of answer. “Thanks for calling, you caught in the middle of a pity party, and I did NOT want to stay.”

“I just wanted to check in on you, sweetie. I read your posts on the board today, and you had a really BAD day.” Cheryl had spent some time on the board with Richie as well, and knew that Jen was going to need a sympathetic ear.

“So, spill, what did you get Jennifer for her birthday?” Cheryl PM’d to Richie on the board. “She isn’t offering anything. I asked her about your birthday visit, but she won’t spill any details.”

“Her birthday?” Richie sent back. When the hell was her birthday?

“Yes, silly, don’t play coy with me, I know she told you her birthday was the same as Heather’s, and it was last week. So...what did you get?”

Cheryl waited for long minutes with no response from Richie. “Oh shit,” she said out loud. Surely Richie didn’t forget? Maybe he did.

“Richie, did you forget Jen’s birthday?” she typed.

“Uh, yeah. Shit. Cheryl, I’m gonna call you.” Richie felt like dog shit. He was so concerned with making sure Ava got to do what she wanted with Heather that he completely forgot about Jen. Oh, this was not good.

“Why didn’t’ she say anything to me?” Richie demanded.

“You’re kidding, right?” Cheryl answered. “Have you met her? She’s not going to try to make you feel badly.”

Richie groaned. That made it worse. At least if she called him on it, he could be contrite and try to make it up to her. But now? She’s not even going to mention it? “God,” he said, “what can I do?”

“What’s your schedule like? All she really wants is just to see you.”

“That can be arranged.”

“Yeah, my day pretty much sucked, but I’m okay. Well not okay, but getting there. Steph offered to come out to drink with me, and let me cry on her,” Jennifer laughed, “but I’m not in that bad a way yet. You know, you guys are just wonderful, checking up on me like this.”

“Sweetie, we’re friends, that’s what we do – we help each other.” Cheryl smiled, thinking of the ‘help’ she gave Richie today.

“Well thank you,” Jennifer said, feeling better.

“Don’t even mention it,” Cheryl answered. “I just wanted to check in, make sure you were okay.”

“Like I said, I’m getting there,” Jennifer said. “I’m going to try to get my work done so I don’t have to work all night, then go home and try to relax.”

“Sounds good. You know you can call me anytime, right?” Cheryl asked.

“I know. Thanks. I love ya, girlfriend.”

“Right back atcha.”

That night, just about when Jennifer was ready for bed, her cell rang. Karen Carpenter’s beautiful voice singing through the room: I fell in love with you before the second show / Your guitar, it sounds so sweet and clear / But you're not really here it's just the radio…

Sniffling back a sob at the bittersweet words she chose for his ring tone, she cleared her throat and answered the phone.

“Hey, baby,” Jennifer said.

“Jennifer, darlin’, how are you?”

With a growl, Jennifer let go of almost all the bile that built up over past several days – she was still determined not going to whine about her birthday. Ava and her plans came first, she knew that. Jen told him every other little thing that pissed her off, from the horrendous trip into town, to losing her train pass, to the phantom deleted message from her ex, to the people who were acting like idiots at work. She was in desperate need of cheering up.

“Apparently, I’m such a basket case, that Stephanie was ready to come out this weekend to try to help me cheer up.”

“I wish it was me coming out there to cheer you up,” Richie said softly.

Jennifer agreed. “I just wish I’d snap out of the funk. I just miss you,” she said, then winced. She sounded whiny to her ears. “I’m sorry, baby,” she said.

“For missing me? Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” He chuckled. “I’d be sorry if you didn’t miss me.”

“You know what I mean. I’m being silly. So tell me, how’s Ava?”

Richie shook his head. She still wasn’t going to say anything. Well, he’d fix the oversight soon enough. He chattered about his daughter for a few minutes, then took a deep breath. “Will you let me do something for you?” he asked.

Jennifer was surprised at the abrupt change of subject. Was he trying to get off the phone? “Uh, sure, I guess so, Rich. What is it?”

“Given your shit commute, and that you lost your train pass, will you let me hire you a car – just for the rest of the week. You need to be able to relax and not worry about the train or running late or driving home – I just want to pamper you a little.”

Jennifer was silent on the other end of the line. “That’s all it is? You just want me to relax?” she finally asked.

“Of course. That, and there MAY be a little surprise in the back seat for you tomorrow.”

Jennifer laughed. “What kind of surprise?”

“Well,” Richie said, “I was thinking we could have a sort of date on Friday night and I can send you a little something to bring to the date.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Jennifer asked.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Richie said. “What are you up to tonight?”

“I had some work to do, but I decided to bag it. I have yet another early morning India call and need to go get some sleep. You know,” Jennifer joked, “it would be easier if I just went to India for a month.”

“You aren’t going to do that, are you?” The thought of his Jen flying halfway around the world made his heart stop. He realized that was what she must feel like when he goes away. He didn’t like it at all.

“Not likely – not yet anyway. Probably not until February, if at all. We’ll see. Let me tell you, I’m going to need copious amounts of Valium and Xanax to get through a 17 hour flight.”

“Can you even find a doctor to prescribe that much? You’re better off getting up early.”

“Okay, if you say so. So, are you going to tell me about this surprise, or no?”

“Nope,” Richie said. “You are just going to have to wait and see.

“The car will be here for 5:30 tomorrow?”

“Yep,” Richie said. “Just tell the driver when you need him, and he’ll be there. He’s at your disposal every morning and afternoon all week.”

“You are the best, do you know that?” Jennifer was smiling the first real smile she made since he left.

“So I’ve been told,” Richie joked. “Alright, I’ll let you get some sleep, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“You sure will talk to me tomorrow,” Jennifer answered.

“Sounds like a good deal. Alright, baby,” Richie said, “I’ll talk to you later. I love you, you know.”

“I know, and I love you too.”

“Bye, darlin’.”

“Bye, Rich.”

Missing Richie

2009-12-08T13:09:00.000-05:00

All too soon, it was time for Richie and his family to go home. A last-minute crisis at work meant that Jennifer had to go in instead of taking the day off as she had planned. The day was a royal bitch, and by four, the bulk of the problem was resolved, but there were a few pesky details still outstanding. Her boss, knowing that her boyfriend and family were leaving the next day, saw her check her watch for the three thousandth time and told her, “Just go. See you Monday.”

With a wave and a heartfelt ‘thanks’, Jennifer stumped her way to the elevator, white knuckled herself down the five stories to the lobby, and without thinking, hit the revolving door instead of the automatic door. She had a moment of panic when she realized what she’d done, but made it out without killing herself and berated herself for not paying closer attention.

She fidgeted the whole way home, anxious to get on with her evening. She rescued her car from the parking garage and pointed it home. Half an hour later, she was walking through the door. “Hello? I’m home!” she called, and was rewarded with the sound of running feet. Ava came into view and skidded to a stop in front of her.

“Hi Jen!” she said, taking Jennifer’s laptop from her and throwing her arms around the woman. “I’m so glad you’re home!”

“Me too,” Richie said, crossing to kiss his girl. “How was your day?”

“Long but over,” Jennifer said. “Let me go get changed, and we can get going.”

Richie scooped her up and carried her upstairs. “Who’s going to do this when you go home?” Jennifer lamented.

Richie laughed. “I guess you’ll have to sleep downstairs on the sofa,” he joked.

The four piled into the Tahoe and left for Ma’s house. They had a wonderful dinner, and when they were getting ready to head back, Richie was confused when Ava and his mother weren’t getting their stuff together. “C’mon,” he said. “We have packing to do.”

Joan smiled. “Ava and I are already packed, and we’re staying here tonight,” she said softly. “Go home and say your goodbyes.”

Richie smiled widely and kissed his mother’s cheek. “You’re the best,” he said.

When Richie and Jennifer got back to the house, the car was barely turned off before Richie was coming around the car to hoist Jennifer into his arms and stride into the house. He carried her upstairs, and deposited her on the bed. He started stripping off his clothes.

“What, no finesse?” Jennifer joked, as she pulled at her own clothing.

“Nope,” Richie said. “Not this first time.”

He waited about a half a second after Jennifer was naked before climbing onto the bed, crawling between her legs, and pushing himself into her to the hilt. He waited a minute until she accepted his presence in her body, then started to stroke her. Jennifer grabbed his shoulders and pulled so he was laying on her, relishing the feel of him on her. Richie groaned at the hard little pebbles of her nipples pressing into his chest, and kissed her hard, twining his tongue with hers. He heard and felt her breathing become more labored, shallower, and he sped up his motions. His heart was racing, and his pulse throbbing in his ears.

Jennifer wrapped her good leg around Richie’s waist, and pulled him in deep raising her hips to match his thrusts. She begged him to pound her harder and faster, and he obliged, sending her into a dizzying spiral of sensation that she never wanted to recover from. The clenching and rippling of her muscles sent Richie over the edge and he joined her on the fall. When he was spent, he gently rolled off her and pulled her close in next to him. He spent the next half an hour kissing her, devouring her mouth, and he was ready to go again.

This time, he finessed Jennifer, bringing her to orgasm several times before burying himself in her. They snoozed together, tangled in a sweaty heap on the bed, their breathing matched and even. When Richie woke to see Jennifer across the room with her laptop, he smiled. “Tell the girls goodnight and come here,” he said. “I think you need a little more loving.”

She obliged.

The next morning, Richie and Jennifer packed the car with suitcases that Joan and Ava had left by the door, and added Richie’s things. Jennifer thought she never saw a sadder sight than the cargo area of her Tahoe that morning. But she pasted on a bright smile, and they left to pick up the other travelers.

At Ma’s, there were hugs and tears, and promises to keep in touch. Joan was glad to find a kindred spirit in Jennifer’s mother, and Ava had taken to calling her Gramma Ma which sounded like she was putting on 19th century British airs, but which both ladies thought was precious. Jennifer waited until everyone was strapped in, and headed off to the airport.

The ride was quiet, and all too soon, they arrived at Logan. Jennifer dropped her passengers off with their luggage and left her car in short term parking. Making her way back to the terminal, she caught up with the others, and Richie put an arm around her waist, pulling her in close. Once the three had their tickets and were all checked in, Jennifer walked with them to the security checkpoint. A brief glance at the clock showed her that they had about half an hour until their flight was called.

“Richard, dear, I’ll take Ava on through,” Joan said. She took Jennifer’s hands. “It was wonderful to meet you, Jennifer. You and your family are wonderful, opening your lives and hearts to us. I hope to see you again soon.”

“Joan the pleasure was all mine,” Jennifer said. “Though I do wish Rich had told me you were coming.” The two women shared a laugh and a hug.

“Well Sundrop,” Jennifer said, turning to Ava, “I guess I’ll see you later. Have fun in school.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to start school, but I’m going to miss you.” Ava hugged Jennifer tightly, and tears sprang to Jen’s eyes. “Thank you for my room,” Ava said. “It’s the most beautiful room I’ve ever had.”

“Well it’s yours for whenever you come to visit,” Jennifer said. “And I’ll miss you too. Who’s going to take my laptop from me when I get home in the evenings, and give me a big, giant hug?”

“And who’s going to sneak me lip gloss when Daddy won’t let me wear it?” she whispered, making Jennifer laugh.

“Check your bag,” Jennifer whispered back.

Jennifer watched Ava and Joan go through the security checkpoint, Ava chattering away like a little monkey. She turned to Richie, who was looking at her with a softness in his eyes that took her breath away. She silently went to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, and resting her head on his chest. Richie’s hands sifted through Jen’s hair and he bent to inhale her fragrance.

“Damn Jennifer, I’m going to miss you like crazy,” Richie said. He tilted her face up towards his and kissed her gently. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jennifer answered. “And I miss you already.” She was horrified to find tears stinging her eyes again. “I’m sorry,” Jen said, dashing the tears away.

“Don’t be sorry,” Richie said. “If it weren’t for the fact that I’m a big, tough man, I’d be bawling like a baby.” Jennifer laughed loudly at that, and planed a kiss on his chest, over his heart. “Darlin’,” he said, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I know you will. I’m just being a silly female,” Jennifer answered. “Your daughter is waiting on you,” Jennifer said, nodding toward Ava, who was watching them intently, with a big smile on her face.

“I know,” Richie said. “I should probably go, but my feet don’t seem to want to move.”

“Mine either,” Jennifer admitted.

Richie laughed. “You mean foot and cane, right?”

Jennifer smacked Richie’s ass. “That was uncalled for, monkey-boy,” she chided, a smile creeping across her lips.

“Made you smile,” Richie said. Then he pulled her in for a long, slow kiss that had other travelers applauding and whistling at them. When they broke the kiss, Jennifer stepped back and used her thumb to wipe the lipstick from Richie’s face.

“You always make me smile,” she said. “Go. Travel safe, remember I love you, and call me when you get settled, okay?”

“I will, I love you too, and you’d better believe I’m calling you as soon as I can.” Richie kissed her again, hard and fast. “I’m sorry, baby, I gotta go.”

“I know. Go.” Jennifer gently touched the side of Richie’s face, and he turned his head to kiss her palm.

“Bye honey,” he said, and backed away toward the security gate.

Jennifer watched them until she couldn’t see them anymore, then with a heavy heart, left the airport. When she got home, she tried to pretend nothing was wrong. She stripped the beds in Joan’s and Ava’s rooms, and brought the laundry to the washing machine. While that was going, she went into her bedroom – their bedroom as she’d come to think of it, and gasped when she saw the box on the bed. Richie must have left it when he went back upstairs to grab his guitar before they left for the airport.

The stiff white paper and purple satin ribbon called to her. She sat on Richie’s side of the bed, pulled his pillow into her lap, and picked up the box. It was about 10 inches long, and slender and light. She carefully untied the ribbon, and set it aside. She flipped the box over and used a fingernail to slit the tape. Jennifer removed the paper and folded it, and set it next to the ribbon. She opened the box and said, “Oh!”

Nestled in a bed of royal purple satin was a gorgeous diamond bracelet. Jennifer traced its length with a fingertip, and cried. The stones were set in platinum and were arranged in bunches shaped like flowers. Each five-diamond, forget-me-not-shaped cluster was separated by a full quarter-carat round cut diamond. Jennifer didn’t know much about jewelry, but these white diamonds glittered and sparkled like they were lit from within. She managed to secure it around her wrist, and picked up the box. She lifted the edge of the satin and saw a note. Unfolding it, she smiled at his bold handwriting.

Dearest Jennifer,

Wrinkle up the wrapping paper. I know you; you carefully cut the tape and folded the paper neatly didn’t you? I love that about you; your neatness and penchant for making souvenirs out of anything and everything. There are so many things I love about you, that it would take a lifetime to list, and since I’ve already lived half my life, I fear I will never get to tell you everything.

I want to try, though. I want to tell you about the thousands of things I love about you. I want to show you how much you mean to me. I want to share with you everything I have and everything I am.

Wear this and remember that I love you, and if I’m not with you, that I miss you terribly, and am picturing you naked. Hell, even if I’m with you, I’m picturing you naked.

Made you smile!

All my love,
Rich

PS: Stop crying and answer the phone. The captain is just about to turn off the seatbelt sign…

Jennifer laughed when her phone rang. “How the hell do you do that?” she asked.

“I told you, baby,” Richie said, “I’ve traveled more than half my life. I have this DOWN.”

“This is gorgeous, Rich. You didn’t have to do this.” She sniffled. “And I am NOT wrinkling up the paper. I did muss the ribbon though, if that makes you feel better.”

“Loads better,” Richie said. “And I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to. I love you. Just wanted to check in.”

“How’d you know I’d be up in our room?”

Richie smiled at her turn of phrase. “Darlin’, I know you. I’ll bet you have a load of sheets in the wash now, and went up to our room to debate over changing the linens there or not.”

Jennifer shook her head. “That’s eerie, babe.”

Richie grinned. “I call it perceptive.”

Jennifer laughed. They chatted for a while, then Richie had to go – they were making their approach to Jersey, and he needed to get off the phone. He promised to call when he got back to his house, and they signed off. Several hours later, he called again. Jennifer was on the road when he called. She couldn’t stand being alone in her house anymore. Everywhere she looked, there was something that reminded her of Richie, and she was wandering from room to room sobbing. She had finally called her grandmother and asked if she could use the Hamptons house for the weekend. She had to get away.

Richie let her know they had gotten back safely, and lamented that he didn’t feel like he was home. “It doesn’t feel like home without you here with me. I wish you were able to come to California with me.” They talked for a long time, then Jennifer had to go; she needed to concentrate on driving.

When she got to the house in East Hampton, she dropped her bag in the entry hall and went around the house, throwing open the windows to capture the ocean breeze that was blowing. Jennifer called her mom to let her know she arrived safely, then hung up the phone and went outside to sit on the deck and watch the waves.

This was too hard. The saying-goodbye-and-staying-apart thing. Where she grew up, when you loved each other, you stayed together. Sure there were times when you had to travel for your job or when you wanted a day to yourself, but at the end of the day, you shared a house along with your life.

She ran a finger around her bracelet and thought about what Rich had said about wishing she could go out to California. Could she change her life that dramatically? Leave her friends, family, and job, and move clear across the country?

Did he really want her to? Did she really want to?

She sat there for a long time, thinking on this. When her knee started throbbing from the cool September night air, she went back inside, and went to bed.

The Rest Of The Story

2009-11-28T23:36:00.003-05:00

Your breath hisses from your lips and you swallow audibly.

“Strip,” I command, walking back to my observation chair. You watch my ass as I stalk past you, wishing you could reach out and touch it. But you know better.

I cross my long legs, my eyes filled with pleasure as you slowly unbutton your jeans and lift them over your throbbing cock, now straining and purplish in color.

“Poor baby,” I murmur with little sympathy when you wince as the rough fabric abrades your sensitive flesh.

You kick off your shoes and push the jeans off your legs, finally standing completely naked before me, awaiting my next instruction.

I watch you over steepled fingertips, studying you from top to bottom. For long moments I make you wait as I watch you…my expression considering.

I stand and grab your wrist, leading you to a nearby table with an elaborate chest on top. “This is my box of tricks,” I explain. I open it with a flourish and you gasp. Nestled in a velvet interior as all manner of sexual, pleasure and torture devices. I watch you, considering, my eyes narrowed, gauging your expressions.

First comes several lengths of leather cord. With one of them, I wrap your wrists together, tightly, securing the ends by knotting them into a metal ring.

I peruse the other items. I remove the ball gag and look at you, noting the slightly mortified look. Pity, but I want your mouth to be free for the time being, so I save that for later.

I select several squares of fabric – lush velvets, soft silks, luxurious furs – and add some feathers, and of course, a black blindfold. I know I need a few more items before I blindfold you though. I study your impassive expression then select a long black vibrator, three silver balls, and a tube of lubricant.

Your eyes grow wide with astonishment and you start to speak.

“Mercy already, darling?” My eyebrows are high, an unmistakable challenge in my gaze.

You quickly shake your head, but your eyes are round as quarters. What a good boy you are.

I lead you to the bed by your wrists and instruct you to sit on the side. You obey and I stand with my thighs spread, straddling your knees, my breasts right in front of you.

You ache to touch a swollen pink nipple…so close…but sorry, honey. You’re to be my chair for the time being.

I slowly drag my fingertips through your hair and whisper, “It’s your job to sit completely still. Do not move.” Then I turn and sweep my hair over my shoulder so you can truly admire the lace-up back of my leather corset. I bend down and remove my g-string. The scent of my arousal tickles your nostrils and your nose twitches, but you don’t say anything, and most importantly, you don’t move.

Slowly I perch myself on your knees, leaning back against you.

You know you have to sit completely still, unmoving, but you can’t help but admire my upturned lips as I lean my head back on your shoulder.

I whisper a command. “You’re not allowed to touch.” Then spread my legs wide and reach for the vibrator.

ou groan when you realize what I’m going to do.

With an evil smile, I reach up with one hand to caress my breast, roughly pulling and plucking my nipple, the way I know you like to. With the other hand, I turn the toy on its slowest setting, lightly tracing the insides of my thighs.

You moan, a muffled sound that makes me reach for the whip lying at your side. “Remember, no words,” I remind you, dragging the ends of it across my pussy, trailing my juices up over my abdomen, between my breasts and teasing your nose before setting it back down. “And no touching yourself either,” I murmur, gyrating my ass against your bound hands on your lap.

I turn the toy on a higher setting, just lightly toying with my opening at first, then sliding it deep inside with a satisfied gasp. It’s not you baby, but right now, it will do. Particularly when I can feel your huge, pulsing cock poking me in the small of my back.

I coat it with my juices and remove it, holding it up to your face and place the tip of it against your lips. “Suck my juices off it,” I command you.

You grimace, the idea of putting a cock, even a fake one, in your mouth distasteful. But in the end, you can’t resist the smell or the taste of me, and you obey.

I take pity on you, not forcing you to take it completely in your mouth, but instructing you to drag your tongue up one side and down the other.

“Mmmmmm, seeing your lips on that and knowing it’s going to be inside my pussy makes me hot,” I hiss, my eyes flashing with arousal.

Slowly I glide the wet vibe inside my aching flesh, uttering a deep guttural moan once it’s jammed to the hilt. I turn it on its highest setting and grab your hand, placing your fingers against the rabbit ears on either side of my clit. “Don’t move,” I whisper breathlessly, grinding against your lap and the vibe and your fingers until I feel so nasty and I just can’t take it any more. I push your legs apart, rapidly closing mine so I can clamp down on the violent pulsations, moaning, screaming, and thrashing as I come.

I collapse against you, my chair, and gasp for air until I finally return to some semblance of sanity. I’m impressed with your will power, but see your eyes darken when I remove the vibrator, a long thread of tumescent fluid clinging to its tip.

On slightly shaky legs, I stand. “Your turn, darling. Lie down.”

You smile and move backward, difficult at best with your hands bound. “Roll over,” I command you onto your stomach.

Your eyes widen in panic, fixed on the soaked vibe and silver balls at the edge of the bed.

“Mercy?” I ask, smiling.

You shake your head and roll over onto all fours. I roughly stretch your hands in front of you, exposing a hidden hook on the headboard and attaching your wrists to it. I tap the small of your back with the vibrator. “Down,” I instruct and you lay flat, moaning as you shift your hips to take the weight off your erection.

I trail the wet vibrator along your back, stopping to lightly tease the taut globes of your ass. “Relax, baby,” I whisper in your ear. Thinking I have something horrific planned, you squeeze your eyes shut, but I place the vibrator to the side and straddle you instead.

Squeezing some of the lotion lubricant into my hands, I grab the silver balls and roll them gently over your spine. Once you force yourself to relax, you enjoy the sensation, particularly when I lean over and press my breasts into your shoulders, my hair tickling your face.

“You’re doing so well, sweetie. I’m so proud of you.” My hot breath is right in your ear and you have to shift your hips to take your weight off your erection.

I notice and take sympathy, particularly since you don’t complain.

Reaching up, I remove the metal ring from the hook. “Don’t move your arms down, but turn over.”

I move to the side and allow you to twist around, then reach back up to re-secure your wrists.

Now I truly have the chance to admire your form. Your shoulders and biceps are bunched with strain, your chest heaving with each breath, sweat dampening your hair to your forehead.

I tenderly brush it aside. “What’s my name baby?”

“Mistress Jennifer,” you reply, your voice a harsh whisper.

Your cock is enormous, jerking toward me. I smile in satisfaction.

I lean down and kiss your neck, just under your earlobe, my tongue darting here and there until you’re gasping.

I drag the tip of it down the your throat, swirling into that indentation above your collarbone before moving lower.

Your breath comes out in a whimper as my hair drags down your abdomen, but then I stop, still not touching your cock.

“What’s your word?” I whisper.

“More?” you squeak.

I smile. What a good boy.

“You want my pussy bad baby, don’t you?”

You nod, sweat trickling down your cheek, watching as my open mouth hovers over the straining head of your cock.

“Well, will my tongue do?” I ask with an evil grin.

You nod even more rapidly, your breath coming in harsh gasps.

I lower my lips til they’re a scant millimeter from your aching flesh.

“God, please…” you moan, clenching your eyelids closed.

I sit back on my heels. “Those aren’t your words,” I scold.

“Baby….pleeeeease….fuck me….can’t take it,” you groan.

I move even further away. “Please don’t make me use the whip, Richard. Now what are your words?”

You shake your head as if to clear it, then whisper, “More, Mistress Jennifer.”

I lightly brush your thighs with the end of the whip. “Louder, pet.”

“More, Mistress Jennifer,” you say in as normal a voice as you can muster.

“Better. But I’m going to have to punish you for your mistakes.”

Tears trickled from beneath your lids, sliding toward your temples. God, what more exquisite torture could I have planned?

I grab the vibrator and turn it on it slowest setting, teasing your inner thighs, your tight pelvic muscles, then circling the base of your cock before settling just above your testicle, pressing it with quick touches. Don’t want to overwhelm you.

You half moan, half cry.

“Mercy?” I ask softly.

You hurriedly shake your head.

I grin. I know the one form of torture you can’t handle.

I straddle your thighs and whisper, “Look at me, pet.” You force your eyes open, grimacing as your cock jerks toward me involuntarily.

Fascinated, you watch as the evidence of my arousal slowly drips onto your thighs. “Mmmmmm see how much I want you, baby?” I whisper. I scoot up until I’m hovering over your straining dick, then firmly grasp it and begin to circle my clit with the tip, gasping with pleasure.

With my other hand I clasp my breast, pinching the nipple roughly, rolling it in my fingertips, all the while dragging your dripping cock over my clit, masturbate myself with you.

“You know you’re not gonna be inside me til you say it,” I tease.

You can’t take it any more. Your hips are jerking, your cock is oozing pre-cum, and I’m using you so nastily. “MERCY!” The word is nearly a scream.

With a satisfied smile, I lower myself onto you, taking your entire length in one deep stroke, my eyes closing as I savor the sensation.

“The wrists, Jennifer,” you grit out, desperate to touch me.

I lean over, pressing my breasts against your hard chest, and kiss your lips while reaching for the hook. “Love you, Richie…” I giggle.

Once they’re free you moan impatiently as I undo the cord, and FINALLY you’re able to turn me over and fuck me.

Pinning my shoulders with your strong thumbs, I lay there unmoving as you pound into me, exacting your revenge. Within ten strokes we’re both groaning in ecstasy, my pussy greedily grasping you, milking your cock of every drop of come as you spasm inside me.

“Fuck,” you scream, your release the most intense you’ve experienced in years.

Finally you collapse on top of me, your breathing harsh and labored while I wrap my legs around your waist, smiling with satisfaction as I feel our juices flooding out of my still vibrating pussy.

When you finally regain sanity, you look at me, stroking my jaw with a gentle fingertip. “Next time, I’m the master.”

Later that night, after Joan and Ava had gone to bed, Richie and Jen were standing side by side in the bathroom, brushing their teeth. Richie’s eyes met Jen’s in the mirror, and he wagged his eyebrows. "How's your evening looking, Mistress?" he said suggestively.

Laughing, Jennifer spit a mouthful of foam into the bowl and rinsed her mouth. "Don’t get me wrong, I mean, I'm glad you're taking an interest in my, er, hobbies as it were," she said, laughing and blushing, "but damn, you're really getting into the board and, well, our little hobby."

Richie colored slightly. "Yeah, I guess I am," he admitted. "I see the appeal of the anonymous board to you ladies. I can actually forget I've met some of them, and just goof off like a regular guy. And the others? The ones who don't know who I am? They're wonderful fun. They actually like me for me, not because they know who I am."

"Yeah," Jennifer said, "but it's a bit disconcerting to know that you're, you know..." She trailed off, not quite able to bring herself to say the words.

"That we're reading porn you write about us?"

"We?" Jen choked.

"Figure of speech." They finished in the bathroom and got into bed. "You do know how a guy's mind works right? Any porn -- straight porn -- is good porn. Even if it is written by friends."

"My friends are going to die, absolutely DIE when they know who you are on the board."

"Aw shit, are they gonna be mad?"

Jennifer laughed and carefully sidled closer to Richie, stroking him through his pajama bottoms. "Baby, they like you. They'll be mortified, but they'll get over it because you're funny, you play with everyone, are an incorrigible flirt, and the shit you write, on the board, and in yoru songs, makes them wet."

"What about you," Richie growled in her ear as he slid a hand under her nightshirt to palm a breast.

"I know you're thinking of me when you were writing that stuff on the board," she said, stroking him harder now. "I can feel your hands and mouth on me with your words." She groaned as Richie squeezed her hardened nipple. "Yeah, you could say it makes me wet too."

Jennifer eased Richie's pants down off his hips and rolled him toward her, spreading her legs so he could settle in between them. Mashing his mouth to hers, he pushed into her roughly, making her gasp. "You know," Richie said, as he stroked, gently now, in and out of her, "you've written a LOT of stories." He kissed her neck, biting and marking her. "That's a whole lot of stuff to try out."

"Damn," Jennifer said, as she raised her hips in time with his grueling rhythm, "and the others have some real good stories too..."

Richie's pace increased, making Jennifer mewl. "Baby, we have a whole lot of reading to do," he said.

"Speak for yourself," Jennifer said through tightly clenched teeth. "I've already -- OH!" she groaned as the waves overtook her. She arched from the bed, grabbing onto Richie's shoulders for purchase as he slammed her silly.

"Already what," he gasped, hanging onto his control by a thread.

Nearly sobbing with pleasure, Jennifer finished her thought, "...already bookmarked them."

"Dammmmmmnnnn," Richie growled as he pulsed inside her.

The next morning was an early one, and Jennifer stumped into the office a little after 6:30. She hardly had any time to herself all day. Richie kept sending her sexy texts and emails, and more than once, Jennifer had to ignore the little blinking red light on her blackberry or the envelope icon in the system tray. She just couldn't handle all the teasing. The board had turned some switch in him, making him more open, more playful, than she'd yet seen him.

God, she loved her Jovi Sisters…

Goddess’ Note: The substory in this and the previous chapter are from the Fiction Mistress. She wrote them during the T’s Place Interactive Fan Fic adventure, and incorporated it into one of her own stories.

Thank You, Samantha!

2009-11-28T23:35:00.000-05:00

Tuesday afternoon, Richie was left on his own. Jen was at the office and Joan and Ava had gone out with Ma and Joanna for a girls’ day out. He messed around on the computer for a while, but the raunchy talk was making him miss Jennifer. He called Jon and talked to him for a while, and was still on the phone with him when the women returned from their day out. Richie dropped the phone to the floor with a clatter. He could hear Jon yelling at him, but could only stare at his daughter. Ava was glammed up. There was no other phrase to describe how she looked. She had light makeup on, her hair was styled into an elegant chignon, and her wide smile made her look, well, just like her mother.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" She said, frowning. "Don't I look pretty?"

Richie shook himself. "Angel, 'pretty' doesn't begin to cover it. You look beautiful." He kissed her cheek. "Did Joanna get dolled up, too?"

"Yep, she sure did. We had fun taking pictures. Nana and Ma have some, I'm sure they'll show you." Richie smiled at the way Ava called Jennifer's mother "Ma".

Ava preened and Joan caught his eye over Ava's head. Smiling at his gobsmacked expression, she asked, "Who's on the phone?"

"Shit!" He exclaimed and picked the device up off the floor. "Sorry man, I just aged 10 years. You should see what they did to my baby girl. She looks about sixteen."

Jon chuckled. "S'alright," he said. "Just wait until she's sixteen and looks twenty-two. Then we'll talk." Jon sighed. "Look, I gotta go anyway," he said. “Catch ya later."

"Yeah, sure," Richie answered.

He hung up and went in search of his women. Well, the women who were home. Joan had taken Ava out back to feed the ducks who seemed to like the pond out there. "Whatcha girls doing?" he asked.

Ava pulled a face and sighed. "Daddy, we're trying to feed the ducks, but you're too big. You're scaring them. Go away."

"Love you too, baby," Richie said. "But okay. Come find me when you're done with the ducks."

Richie smiled as he went back inside. With his mother and daughter occupied, he knew what he was going to do. He was hitting the board. He ensconced himself in their bedroom, and booted his laptop. When he signed onto the board and started reading the posts from one of the more naughty of Jen’s friends, his erection nearly knocked the computer off his lap.

You finally notice me, sitting in that chair in the corner. I think you may have an idea what’s coming once you see the leather. And the boots.

“Well, hello darlin’,” your voice dips low, husky, your eyes taking it all in, from the pointed heels of my boots to the pony whip I’m slowly stroking in my palm.

“No more talking,” I say, my voice seeming as if it’s coming from someone else. Hard. Brooking no arguments.

I walk toward you, eyeing my prey.

You stand straight, watching me. Is that amusement I see glinting in your eyes?

That’s mistake number one, my friend.

I slowly trace the end of my whip down your throat, down your chest, down your abdomen. With the tip, I lift the soft cotton hem of your t-shirt to trace the outline of your ab muscles.

They twitch, obviously enjoying the attention. Fascinated, I drag my fingernails across those abs as I circle behind you. “Richard,” I begin, the tone of my voice a warning, “there are only three words you’re allowed to utter now.”

Your eyebrow inches up your forehead as you wait. Your mind is full of questions, but you know you’ve just given up the privilege of asking them.

I complete the circle, standing in front of you, my breath on your lips, my eyes commanding you not to look down.

“Your safety word is mercy. When you say this, I will stop. But make sure you want me to.” The whip is circling your burgeoning erection and at the moment, the last thing you want me to do is stop.

“Your pleasure word is more. When you say this, I will take it to the next level.” You gasp as I reach forward and grab your shirt at the collar, efficiently ripping it off your body. “Very nice,” I say with a pleased smile when I notice your cock is now straining above the waistband of your jeans, already oozing pre-cum.

“And the third word?” You gasp, more turned on than you’ve ever been.

I arch a brow and swat your side with the wispy ends of the whip. “I SAID no talking.”

You lower your head in, not quite submission yet, but acquiescence.

I smile. I know it won’t be long. “The third word is my name. That is the only name you need to remember from now on. Of course, I suppose that means we need to add a fourth word.”

You blink, staring at the floor. I raise your chin with my finger until you’re looking directly into my eyes.

“You may call me Mistress Jennifer.”

"Sweet Jesus," he said, turning away. Then he turned back and read it again. Then he reached for the phone.

"Jennifer Petruzzo," she said, distractedly.

"Hey, darlin', whatcha up to?" he said, in a low, sultry voice.

Jennifer chuckled as she walked up the hallway toward her next meeting. "I take it you read Sam's latest bit of porn? She's trying that out for a story she's working on; I take it that it works for you?"

"Oh hell yeah it works for me," he said, stroking his cock. "Can she see into my head or something? I know I told her my little desire, but hell, she jumped all over it."

"She sure did, baby," Jennifer said, whispering.

"Oh, damn, I love it when you talk all low and sexy like that," Richie said, breathing hard.

Jennifer paused to listen. "Tell me you aren't doing what I think you're doing? Dammit, Rich, I can't believe I'm missing out."

"Don't worry, there'll be more for you when you get home..." His stroking was getting more insistent.

"What about the other people in the house?"

"They're outside, and trying to distract me isn't going to work; I'm picturing you in that cat suit and stilettos..." His breath came in a gasp, and Jennifer hastened to lower the volume on her phone.

"Dammit, that was LOUD," she hissed. Sighing, she ducked into an empty conference room and continued, smiling evilly. "But, baby, are you almost there? Is my voice helping you get harder? Are you feeling my hand around your shaft, or maybe my mouth?"

"Jesus, Jen," Richie gritted out.

"You started it, baby, now finish it. Let me hear you. C'mon, baby, groan for me."

"Damn, darlin'...oh hell....fuck...Jennnn...." He finished on a long, low groan as he came. "Sweet hell..."

"That's it, baby," Jennifer crooned, then jumped when someone knocked on the door.

"You alright, Jen?" Paul, her new manager asked. "You're awfully red."

"I'm fine," Jennifer said, even as she heard Richie's laughter. She spoke into the receiver. "Clean up, I'll see you later. Love you, bye."

Richie chuckled at her, and at himself. He didn't know why this was getting to him so much. Sure, it was sexy stuff, and very erotic, but it was directed at him and Jennifer, and he knew Sam did that on purpose, and that made it much easier to picture the two of them in that scenario. He looked at the board again, refreshing his screen, and read the next "installment" of the little story. Holy shit.

Goddess’ Note: The substory in this and the next chapter are from the Fiction Mistress. She wrote them during the T’s Place Interactive Fan Fic adventure, and incorporated it into one of her own stories.

Football Game

2009-11-10T15:50:00.000-05:00

The box seats were wonderful, the food was fantastic, and drinks were offered almost constantly. Jennifer thought to herself, "A girl could get used to this." The only thing that was wrong was her leg wasn't comfortable. Well there were two things: her leg, and the sucky performance of the freshmen on her beloved Patriots' team.

Throughout the first quarter, the Ravens walked all over the Patriots. Matty Cassel couldn't make a play to save his life, and the defense was spaghetti at best. The second quarter wasn't much better, but when the new quarterback fumbled a snap, well Jennifer was all set. She knew the team wouldn't pull this one out.

When halftime rolled around, she looked for Richie. He was talking with some of the others who shared the corporate box. Jennifer smiled. That man could make friends with a stone statue. Richie caught her eye, and made his excuses, crossing the box to sit on the plush couch next to Jennifer.

"You alright, baby?" he asked, gently pulling her leg up onto his lap. The tenderness in his touch made her sigh.

"Yeah, sweetie, I'm alright, just a little uncomfortable."

Richie smiled. "You wanna take off?"

"Would you mind?" Jennifer knew he was having fun socializing, even though he could care less about the game. Hell, she could care less about the game. It WAS only preseason after all -- just a chance to check out the new meat. Tommy wasn't even playing, though from their seats, she could see him stalking back and forth along the sideline like Coach did.

"Nah," Richie said. "Now, if the Giants were playing..."

Jennifer laughed. "Yeah, yeah, smart guy." She pulled Richie's head down for a kiss. "Another few weeks and we're playing your G's. Damn I hope Coach puts in the first line."

"Baby, it's just a game." A hush fell over the box, and he got staring, gape-mouthed looks from nearly everyone in the box.

Jennifer smiled. "It's okay, everyone, he lives in LA."

Conversation resumed, and Jennifer could see twinkling mirth in Richie's eyes. The two made their way back to the car, and after Richie got her settled, he made the 20-minute drive back to the house. The whole time, Jennifer was twitching and shifting, though she didn't say a word. As they pulled up to the house, the front door opened, and Joan came out onto the porch. She noticed Jennifer's discomfort right away.

"What's wrong?" she asked Jennifer, as she thumped up the stairs while Richie put the car into the garage.

"I hate to complain, it's alright."

"Don't be stubborn," Joan insisted. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Well, my knee, it sorta burns on the side a little; it's probably just healing."

"When's the last time you took the brace off?" Joan knew that Jennifer had taken to sponge baths and washing her hair in the sink, especially once the brace was in a really comfortable position. It took forever and dozens of adjustments before it felt good, and she hated to undo it if she could help it.

"A couple days ago," she answered. "It's due for an adjustment, I guess."

Joan led her to the living room and Ava jumped up from the couch.

“You’re home!” She ran over for a hug. “How was the game?”

“Awful,” Jennifer answered, laughing. “My team stunk like feet.”

Joan urged her to sit, and Jennifer put her leg up next to her, groaning softly. Joan undid the brace and laid it open and gasped. The outside of her knee was cut and bleeding. "Jennifer! What the hell happened?" Jen was shocked; she'd never heard this woman utter a harsh word in the whole time she was there, and the mild curse took her by surprise.

Jennifer looked. "I have no idea. Rich?"

"Right here, babe," he said, coming into the room. "Sweet hell, Jen!" he said, then left for the bathroom, Ava on his tail. He came back a few minutes later, with Ava behind him carrying a first-aid kit. Gently, he cleaned the scrapes and Ava put a salve and light dressing over them, and Jennifer felt much better.

Ava pressed a gentle kiss on the bandage. "That's what Daddy does to make the hurt go away," she said. "He said that a kiss with love in it can fix anything."

Jennifer reached for Ava, who came to give her a hug. "Thanks, Sundrop," she said. "It feels better already."

Ava settled in next to Jen, and within minutes, was fighting valiantly to stay awake. "Why don't you go to bed, sweetheart?" Jen said, stroking the girl's hair. "You look beat."

She looked up with slumberous eyes. "I'm not sleepy," she said, making the adults laugh.

Richie scooped his daughter up, and she burrowed into his chest. "C'mon, Angel," he said. Looking at Jennifer, he warned, "Don't get up. I'll be back for you in a few minutes."

As Richie took his little girl upstairs, Jen could hear her ask, “Can I sleep with you again, Daddy?” Jennifer sighed.

As promised, he returned minutes later. Kissing his mother on the cheek as he passed, he knelt by the couch and carefully closed the brace along Jennifer's leg. "You ready?" he asked. When Jennifer nodded, he scooped her up too. "G'night, Mom," he said.

"Good night, kids," Joan answered, smiling. “I’ll be in Ava’s room with her tonight.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Richie said, as he carried a blushing Jennifer across the room.

Joan chuckled. She was so happy to see her son so happy. And Ava too. She was surprised her granddaughter took to Jennifer so quickly. For many months now, the girl had been leery of anyone outside their family. Joan was worried that Ava was getting too attached to Jen. She was a nice woman and all, but she wasn't convinced that she had the staying power to deal with Richie's professional life. She hoped to heaven she was wrong.

When Richie got them upstairs, he put Jennifer on the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. He brought her a basin and her toothbrush, and when she was done, he took it all away and came back with her hairbrush. Sitting behind her on the bed, he brushed one hundred long strokes through her hair, counting each one. When he was done, he pulled her hair up into a horsetail then pulled Jennifer back against his chest.

"You are so good to me, baby," Jennifer said, stroking her fingers along the powerful legs that lay alongside hers. She tickled under his knees, and he shifted against her, letting her feel his erection against the small of her back.

"It's because I love you," he said, leaning down to nibble her neck. "And I want you."

"I know," Jennifer answered smiling. "You were in my office all day today. I know what you were trying to do. And the guitar was a low blow. You know I can't resist that."

Richie bit gently on the side of Jennifer's neck, making her moan. "But you did, baby," Richie said. "And I had to take out all my frustration on your girlfriends." Richie had told Jen all about the afternoon’s activities, and she had logged onto the board using her Blackberry to see for herself.

Jennifer chuckled. "Stephanie said in a PM that she doesn't think she can look you in the eyes anymore after that. Where the hell did that come from?"

Richie trailed a hand down Jen's arm and eased it around to cup her breast. "I guess you bring out the wanton hussy in me," he said, as he squeezed her nipple gently.

Jennifer sucked in a breath. "Well," she said, "it was very, uh, stimulating."

"That was the idea," Richie said, then laughed. "Though Jon thought it was a bit much. Told me to pour some of that into song lyrics."

"Mmmm," Jennifer said, reaching between them to stroke him through is cargo shorts. "I think I'd rather keep that side of you all to myself."

Richie let her tease him for a few minutes longer, then gently pulled her hand away. "Baby, I want to be inside you," he said huskily.

"So what are you waiting for?" Jennifer asked him, squeezing him again.

With a growl, Richie gently extricated himself from behind Jennifer and hastily stripped off his clothes. Jennifer stripped off her Patriots jersey and bra, and tried to muscle her shorts down, but couldn’t quite do it. Richie knelt beside her, gently working the fabric over her legs and off, tossing them behind him. He stroked a hand up Jennifer’s thigh, reveling in the way he made her twitch and shiver. He slid up her body and into her warm, waiting flesh. With a groan, Richie fully seated himself.

“Damn, I should have let you do this all afternoon,” Jennifer said, arching her neck.

“Told you so,” Richie said, stroking gently in and out of her.

“Don’t be gentle,” Jennifer begged.

“But...”

“Please,” she implored. “I’m tired of people treating me like spun glass. I’m fine,” she said, pulling Richie in closer to her with her foot. “Please, baby,” she said.

Richie’s blood buzzed in his veins. He’d wanted to be so careful with her, didn’t want to hurt her, but damn, he missed being able to let go with her. He tentatively thrust hard into her, and she moaned. When she rasped, ‘again’, and her hands closed around his forearms, squeezing, he gave her what she wanted. He slammed her hard, over and over, and watched as Jennifer’s lower lip disappeared into her mouth. He stopped and waited for her to open her eyes.

“I love you,” Richie said, and thrust hard into her.

“I love you too, Rich,” Jennifer answered, and her eyes started to drift shut again.

“Uh-uh, baby, leave ‘em open.” Jennifer’s eyes flew open. “That’s my girl,” he said. He reached between them to massage her clit, and he could feel her tensing around him as her orgasm approached.

“Rich,” Jennifer pleaded. “Please, I’m so close.”

“So let it go,” he answered, quickening his finger.

“Oh, gawwwwd,” Jennifer groaned as the first ripples overtook her.

When Richie felt her go over, he started stroking in and out of her again, letting the clenching of her muscles pull him in deeper. When she moaned out his name and arched from the bed, he dropped his hand from her clit and slammed into her, unrelenting, until he came with a growl. When the pulsing stopped, he rolled to her side and gathered her to his chest.

“Thank you,” Jennifer said, stroking his chest.

“Darlin’, you never have to thank me. The pleasure was all mine.”

“Not all, baby,” Jennifer said, looking up at him with a satisfied smile.

Richie chuckled and kissed her tenderly. “Sleep now, baby,” he said.

The next morning, Jennifer woke relaxed and happy. She raised her arms and stretched, forgetting for a moment that some of her muscles don't really want to stretch. A sharp pain stabbed through her knee and she cried out softly, not wanting to wake Rich. She thumped to the bathroom and shut the door, crying softly. "Dammit!" she cursed. "Damn, damn, damn!" After her little pity party was done, she unwrapped her leg and crawled into the shower. Clean, dried, and re-wrapped, she threw on some work clothes and went downstairs make breakfast before starting her day. Vacation time was over; it was time to go back to work.

More Distractions

2009-10-28T21:35:00.002-04:00

“Rich, if you don’t get out of here, I’m never going to get anything done!”

Jennifer was exasperated. She was trying to get through her day’s work, but she was having no end to distractions. Richie was frustrated that they hadn’t had any real alone time in the week since he arrived. Ava had taken to sneaking into their bedroom at night, and either she or his mother were always around. Jennifer loved having them as houseguests. They were having such a great time, she hated to think about when they would leave.

Richie couldn’t wait. He loved his mother and his daughter, but he wanted Jennifer all to himself. He was trying his damnest to get her hot and bothered enough to sneak away upstairs with him while his mother and daughter were making cookies in the kitchen.

He spent the morning in an over-sized easy chair in the corner of Jennifer’s home office, quietly playing his twelve-string. He was dressed to entice, in snug blue jeans, a soft, white chambray shirt left completely unbuttoned and rolled up to the elbows, and nothing else. As he played, he hummed to himself, keeping a watchful eye on Jennifer the whole time. Several times throughout the morning, he caught her watching him, and heard her sigh wistfully a time or two. He knew he was breaking through her resolve.

Of course, every time it seemed she would join him on the chair or take him to their bedroom, one of his other women would come looking for them. It never failed. Still, he was prepared to pay his mother to take Ava to lunch. So was Jennifer.

Still, the teasing was fun, and the stolen moments they had together to kiss or fondle was the best foreplay he’d had in quite some time. After checking the hallway and finding it empty (again) and knowing that wouldn’t last (again) he put his guitar down on the floor and stood behind Jennifer.

“Do you like that?” Richie asked, as he rubbed gentle circles around Jennifer’s neck and shoulders. He slid his fingers into her hair and sifted its length through them. He applied just enough pressure on her scalp to make her purr.

“You know I love it when you touch me,” she said, leaning back into his hands and closing her eyes. “But if we want to go to the Patriots game tonight, I have to get …” She trailed off as Richie slid his hands downward over her neck and touched his fingertips at her throat. Very slowly, he pressed his hands downward, until he was cupping her breasts. He had just grazed his thumbs over her nipples when Ava bounded into the room.

“Daddy!” she yelled, causing him to jump. “Chocolate chip or M&M?”

His lust-fogged brain didn’t understand the question. “What?” he asked, keeping his back to his daughter. He didn’t want her to see him aroused. “What are you talking about?”

“The cookies, silly,” she answered. “Should we make chocolate chip or M&M?”

“Why not both?” Jennifer asked, her voice husky.

“Are you okay, Jennifer?” Ava asked. “You’re voice sounds funny.”

Jen cleared her throat as Richie chuckled softly. “Just a frog sweetie. Can we have both?”

“Sure! It’s your house, we hafta do what you say, right?” She bounded out of the room humming, leaving the door open behind her.

Richie growled and crossed the room in three strides, and had to refrain from slamming the door. He closed it gently, and snicked the lock in place.

“What are you doing?”

Richie came back to her and pulled her from the chair. “Those cookies should keep them occupied for at least a half an hour,” he said, smiling. “We are having a nooner. You know, where you take a break from work, and let me fuck you silly.” He dipped his head to capture her mouth in a kiss that seared her to the soles of her feet.

“But what if they come back?”

“That’s why I locked the door,” he murmured, nibbling on her neck. He slid his hands under her t-shirt and pushed the cups of her bra up. When he rolled her nipples between his fingers, she moaned and arched her back a little. Richie smiled and raised the hem of her shirt so he could latch on to one tight, pink peak. He suckled greedily, sending hot shots of lust through Jennifer’s body.

Richie raised his head and walked them over to the couch. When he sat down, he pulled Jen across his lap and promptly lowered his head again. Jen laid back on his arm and let him torture her with his exquisite mouth. When his hand slid down to the waistband of her shorts, she gasped.

“Oh God, Rich,” she said. “God help me, but I need you.”

He slid his hand up under the leg of her shorts, and traced lazy patterns with his slightly-long fingernails on her panties. The light touch was driving her insane. He had just slid a finger under the scrap of fabric and into her wet core when they heard someone rattling the door. “Daddy?” Ava called. “You still in there?”

Richie shushed Jennifer and called out, “Yeah, baby girl, what do you need?”

“Why is the door locked?”

Jennifer giggled. “To try to keep the distractions to a minimum while I work,” she said, regretfully sliding off Richie’s lap. Her step faltered when she saw Richie sucking on his finger. “Hang on a second.” She tossed a pillow to Rich to put in his lap while she went to the door. “What’s going on?”

“I just wanted Daddy to test the batter,” Ava answered, a batter-heavy spoon in her hand.

Richie groaned softly and stood. “Sure, baby girl,” he said and came to stand by Jen. He took the spoon and pulled most of the dough off with his teeth, the sweetness of the chocolate chips making him smile. “Try some,” he said to Jennifer, and held the spoon up to her mouth.

She met Richie’s eyes and let him slide the spoon in. She slowly closed her eyes and her cheeks hollowed as she pulled the batter from the spoon. “Mmmm, that’s delicious,” she said, winking at Richie. She turned back to Ava and gave the little girl a hug. “You guys are going to make fantastic cookies.” Beaming, Ava skipped from the room.

“Damn,” Richie said, grinning at Jen. “You sure do know how to clean off a spoon.”

“I sure do, baby,” Jennifer said.

Richie pressed a quick kiss to Jen’s forehead. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes,” he said.

When he walked up the hall, Jennifer blew out a sharp breath. The tension was getting to her, too.

When he came back, he was smiling, “Ma’s going to take Ava to lunch,” he said, wrapping Jennifer in a tight hug. “They’ll be gone for at least an hour.” He dipped his head to sip from her lips, and groaned when he heard little footsteps pounding down the hall.

“Jen!” Ava said, skidding to a halt in front of them and dancing from side to side. “Daddy said we should go to lunch, and you should come too!”

“Ava, honey,” Richie said, “I said you and Grandma should go out.”

“But I want Jen to come,” Ava said pouting. Joan was nowhere to be seen.

“Rich,” Jennifer said softly. “It’s alright.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered.

“Make it up to me later,” Jennifer said and kissed his cheek.

Riche was told in no uncertain terms by his darling daughter that this was a girl’s lunch, and he wasn’t welcome to join them. Left to his own devices he logged into the board. He groaned when he saw what they were talking about. Naughty talk in his current condition could prove to be painful. Reluctant to join in, he watched for a while, laughing at some of the things the girls were saying. Finally, Stephanie made some smart-ass remark about Richie, and he asked her if she needed a spanking.

She told him to give it his best shot.

“Well hell,” he said out loud, though there was nobody there to hear him. “If it’s good enough for Jon...” He flexed his fingers and replied to Stephanie.

OK..... since that sounds like a dare....

I'll grab your hand as you walk past and pull you to me. You look in my eyes and aren't quite sure what you see there. I'll smile indulgently and give you a knowing look. Your pulse will race as you realize what I mean to do.

When I sit and pull you across my lap, you let out a startled 'oh!'. I'll raise your skirt, showing me the creamy globes of your ass. The first smack stings, but after that, well, you don't mind so much...

By the fifth slap, you're squirming, and I can't control the response my body has to your movements. I'm so hard I can barely breathe. My slaps are lighter now, mere caresses, but to your over-sensitized flesh, the touch is almost unbearable. I lean down to kiss the red marks my hand has left on your flesh, and you purr.

I pull you up to sit, and you straddle my thighs, grinding against me as our mouths fuse together......

I plunge my tongue into your hot mouth and take all you'll give me. I reach up to grab your hair with one hand and angle you so I can go as deep as I can. Your hands fumble at my belt and I let your mouth go to stand us up, undo my pants, and rip your panties from your body. I crush you to me again, and plunder your mouth as I test your wetness with first one, then two fingers. They slide easily, so I add a third, and your knees buckle. Smiling, I sit again, and this time when you straddle me, it's to take my length inside you.

I feel you closing over me. I'm amazed that you can be so soft and so hard at the same time. Your muscles clench around me, squeezing me and it's all I can do to not grab your hips and bounce you on my lap. You set the pace, rolling your hips slowly. I unbutton your blouse and slide it from your shoulders, pleased to find you aren't wearing a bra.

I tear my mouth from yours to kiss my way down your neck, and lower still, to latch onto one pebbled nipple, pulling it into my mouth like my favorite candy. I roll my tongue over it, then my teeth, pulling gently. When you moan, I suck deep, making you grab my shoulders. You're starting to thrash now, and it won't be long until I feel you rippling around me, cumming hard. I can hardly wait.

I feel my thighs start to tense, and that tightening in my balls tells me it won't be long now. I don't want to release until you do, so I carry us across the room to the bed. Laying you down on the edge of the bed, I gently untangle your legs from around my waist and rest your ankles on my shoulders. I grab your hands and hold on as I tease you now, stroking slowly out of you until I'm almost free of your tender, hot flesh, then slamming home, burying myself to the hilt in you.

Again and again I pound you, and the sounds of our bodies slapping together and the ragged breathing we share are the only noises in the room. I watch, fascinated, as your eyes start to roll back, and your head thrashes from side to side. You shake your hands free from mine, and fist them into the sheets, using your arms as leverage to raise your hips in time with the grueling rhythm I've set.

I still can't get deep enough. Can't feel like I totally possess you. Roughly grabbing your ankles, I push at your feet, bending your legs so your knees are up near your delectable ears, exposing you more to me. I watch as my flesh slides easily into and out of yours, and I notice your poor lonely clit all but begging for attention. Smiling, I angle my arm so both your feet are braced against it, and I have my other hand free.

I moisten one finger, dipping it into my mouth, then slowly circle the little bundle of nerves nestled in the dark curls in front of me. You hiss and try to arch from the bed, but it's impossible from the position I have you in.

You cry out my name, begging me to take you over the edge, and how can I refuse. The circling around your clit gets faster and harder, and your eyes are completely rolled back now, tears leaking from their corners as you let a groan escape from your chest, slinking out between your swollen lips. Then you go over. I can feel the rush of moisture as you cum, and I move faster and faster in you. Your walls are pulsing around me, milking me, and one hard contraction, hitting just as I bury myself to the root in you, sets me off. I drop my arms, so I can brace them beside your head, letting your knees drape over my forearms. I ride the waves with you until every slight motion is almost painful.

I gather you up in my arms, and climb onto the bed, keeping us intimately joined. I lay us down together, and we doze happily. Sated...

For now...

“Damn,” he said out loud again. He was hanging out with ‘Hath’ too much. But still, it was fun, flirting with the girls this way. And the best part was, Jen wouldn’t even get upset; she’d probably find this hysterical. Hell, she’d probably act it out with him.

If she’d hurry the fuck up and get HOME already.

Maybe they’d skip the game, after all.

Distractions, Distractions

2009-09-28T10:00:00.000-04:00

Jennifer was working in her office when there was a light knock on the door. She turned around to find Ava standing there, toeing the rug.

“Hey Sundrop,” Jennifer said, making the little girl smile. “What’s up?”

“I had a question about the bedroom I’m sleeping in.” Ava and Joan had been with her for nearly a week now, and Ava had made herself completely at home. She had her father rearrange some of the furniture in the room she was using, and put some photos and other little decorations from her sightseeing adventures around the room.

“Sure,” Jen answered, turning from her computer. “What’s your question?”

“Well,” she answered, very tentative.

“Oh, do you want a different room?” Jennifer asked. “It’s okay if you do, there are plenty to choose from.”

“No, I like it, really I do it’s just…” she trailed off and shoved her hands in her pockets. “Well, is it my room?”

“Of course it is!” Jennifer answered. “For as long as you come to visit me.” She tried to figure out where Ava was going with this line of questioning.

“Well, then, would it be okay to change stuff in it?”

“Oh!” Jennifer said, her words clicking something in her head. “Would you like to make it a different color? Maybe decorate it differently?”

Not knowing what her tastes ran to, Jennifer gave her a non-descript beige room. It was literally a blank slate; filled with enough furniture to make a serviceable guest room. The furniture was basic, done plain oak: the headboard of the queen-sized bed, two book-cases, a big desk, two dressers (one of which has a gorgeous mirror), two nightstands, a lighted vanity, and bench for the end of the bed. It had a fantastic view of the pond, and Jen thought Ava would like it, but it really was quite plain.

Ava sighed with relief. “Yes!” she said excitedly, clasping her hands under her chin. She just as quickly dropped them. “Would that be okay?”

“Sweetheart of course it would,” Jennifer said. “Do you know what you want?”

“Sorta,” Ava hedged.

“Come on, Ava, spill.”

And she did. Ava had great ideas. She wanted to paint the walls a pale green, with either floral or lilac-colored accents. Maybe a stenciled floral border at chair-rail height, and she wanted to find throw rugs and curtains and bedding to match.

“Daddy will buy everything for me,” she finished, looking at Jen nervously.

“Should we paint the furniture, too?” Jennifer asked, ignoring the remark about the money. “We can pick up the green and lilac colors from the wall, or do something contrasting in pink or just make everything white.”

“We could do that?”

“Sure, why not?” Jennifer logged off from work and got up. “Get your shoes and your grandma, sunshine, we’re going shopping!”

While Ava ran off, shouting “Yippee!”, Richie came into the office.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

“We are redecorating your daughter’s room,” Jen answered. “We’re going to make it so girly and sweet it’ll make your teeth ache. She ran off to get Joan.” She squinted at him. “How do you feel about painting?”

“Lukewarm,” Richie admitted, “but anything for Ava. You sure about this?”

“Rich, if she’s going to spend any kind of time here, I want her to be comfortable, and to feel comfortable asking for things. Changing the color of a room is no big deal. I’ll get my brother and dad to help with the painting. You’ll have fun.”

“Fun? If you say so,” Richie said, doubtfully. He reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

“What are you doing?”

“Funding my daughter’s shopping excursion,” he said. “What, you think I expect you to pay for her whims?”

“Sweetheart, I think I can manage a bedspread and some sheets for my own house.” She kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But thank you; Ava said you’d pay for it.”

“We’re ready, Jen!” Ava called, running back into the room. “Hi Daddy! We’re going to redo my room! Jennifer said it’s okay!” She ran over to the woman in question. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she gushed, hugging Jen tightly.

Jennifer laughed and hugged her back. “You’re welcome. Rich, call my brother, have him help you move the furniture out onto the deck. You’re gonna paint that too.”

“Yes dear,” Richie said, kissing her again and rolling his eyes on his way out of the room.

After stopping at Sherwin-Williams and Home Depot, the women dropped off gallons of paint in various colors, brushes, rollers, drop cloths, rolls and rolls of painters tape, buckets and even painter’s hats. Jennifer’s brother was already there, and the two men were starting to bring the furniture out onto the deck.

“Back already?” Richie asked. “That didn’t take long.”

“That was just trip one,” Jennifer said. “We got your painting supplies. Now you guys can start while we go do the serious shopping.”

Ava showed her father what colors she wanted where, and had him repeat it three times before she was satisfied. “Just like her mother,” Richie grumbled good-naturedly, and waved as she ran off.

Three hours and two department stores later, they were set. Ava picked out a gorgeous Laura Ashley print, and Jennifer had almost as much fun as Ava, getting matching curtains, throw rugs, towels for her bathroom, and an extra set of sheets so they could re-upholster the bench. Joan would help them make a huge over-stuffed cushion for sitting on the floor. The car was packed with bags by the time they got back to the house.

They went out back to find Richie and both Johns speckled with paint. Jennifer’s parents had come along to visit, and Ma was barking orders at the men. The men were finishing the last of the furniture when the girls rounded the corner.

“We’re back!” Ava called out.

“The room’s done,” Richie called out, “but still stinks.”

“That’s alright, Daddy,” Ava chirped, “I can sleep with you and Jen again.”

Joan saw the pained expression flit across her son’s face. “Ava, honey, why don’t you sleep with me tonight? We haven’t done that in ages.”

“OK, Grandma,” Ava said. “Let’s go see my room!” She led her grandmother into the house, and Ma couldn’t resist laughing.

“Ava been spending time with you at night, has she?” Ma asked, smiling.

“Yeah,” Jennifer answered, walking across the porch. “She’ll be happier in her room once it’s all done.” She pointed at the bags. “John?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be your Sherpa,” he groused, but went to fetch the packages.

The women unpacked everything, and Ma got the sheets into the wash. “Nothing like freshly-laundered sheets,” she said. They set about ironing the curtains, and measuring the cushion on the bench so they could re-cover it.

When the phone rang, Jennifer hastened to answer it. “Yes?” she asked. After a few moments, she smiled. “Outstanding, see you then.”

When she hung up the phone, Joan and Ava were just coming back downstairs. Ava had a smile a mile wide on her face. “The walls are perfect,” she gushed. “And they did all the – whatchamacallit – trim in that purpley color and it looks awesome!”

“I just got off the phone with the rug guy,” Jennifer said.

“Rug guy?” Ava asked.

“Yep, they’re coming tomorrow to put down a lilac rug so your feet won’t be cold if you’re here in the winter. Once that’s down, we can move the furniture back in, hang the drapes and we’ll be done! The color is light enough that the throw rugs will blend beautifully.”

“You’re the best, Jen,” Ava said, hugging her close. “I love you.” She ran out to tell her father about the rug, not noticing the tears of joy in Jennifer’s eyes.

Lots of Love

2009-09-13T20:19:00.002-04:00

Monday was an uneventful day at work. By the time lunchtime had rolled around, bringing a cab-ful of Samboras, Jen was more than ready to leave with them. She stuck out the day, however, like a good worker bee, and arrived home with a case full of folders and papers, ready for the rest of the week.

Late Tuesday afternoon, Ava and Joan were out on the grounds feeding the ducks at the pond, and Jen was taking a break, snuggled with Rich in the living room, and logged onto the board. The first post she read made her gasp. “Holy shit, look what Jon is doing.”

One of the women on the board had asked what a male orgasm felt like and Jon answered in graphic detail.

It starts with a tingling in your thighs. It's electric. If it's a really really good one, your toes will curl...you won't be able to stop them. Then your muscles tighten, and tense. It's like a massage from the inside out. Yeah! That's the best way to describe it!

Richie was laughing outright at Jon’s description.

Let me try this another way.

Have you ever tried to squeeze all the blood out of your arm? Then let it rush back in? Try it sometime...not the actual feeling...but the sensation...that's it. You feel it not just in your groin but in your head. You get light headed,....it really does feel like the top's gonna come off your head…if it's a really good one.

The girls got bolder, and asked him what it was like to go down on a woman, and damned if Jon didn’t answer. Graphically.

That's a tough one to describe. Mostly, because that's another one of those things that you, being a woman, might not be able to picture and get what I mean. But I'll try....

There's a certain sense of triumph when a woman opens herself to you like that. There's got to be a certain element of trust there, ya know? She's trusting you to keep her safe while she loses control. You've got to hold on and keep your mind in the game, but it's hard to do sometimes. There's a reason the French call an orgasm 'the little death'. I get a thrill knowing I can send her flying into the stratosphere with just my tongue and fingers.

Oh, and I gotta admit, I like a little bit of fur. Neatly trimmed. I like when it tickles my nose.

“God,” Jen said, laughing. “I so want to out Jon on this board. Could you imagine what everyone would do if they knew who they were talking to? They’d freaking DIE.”

“You’re mean,” Richie said, laughing. “ But, I’d do it in a heartbeat if Jon wouldn’t kill me. Ooh, look at what they’re asking now.”

Jen rolled her eyes. “Damn, what the hell are they trying to do? It’s a damned good thing this is an 18 and over board.” The question was,

So, are blow job orgasms are better than sex orgasms??

Jon was going on with yet another full-blown graphic description, and the girls were being thick. On purpose, she’d bet. “Christ, even I know what he’s talking about,” Jen said, blushing. “Even though I so didn’t need to know that information about him.”

She typed furiously for a minute, Richie hanging over her shoulder.

I think he means they're different kinds of good. Kinda like the difference between getting slammed by a gloriously thick cock so hard he feels like he's poking your womb, and being lapped at by a clever tongue so gently and tenderly you think you're gonna lose your mind...

“Damn, babe. You’re making me hard.” Jennifer rubbed Richie’s growing erection, loving the way it felt sliding under her palm.

“What?” Jen said. “It’s true. Look,” she said, pointing at the screen. “Even Jon thinks so. This is so fucking weird.”

He watched Jennifer type some more, and laughed. “Do you really need a ‘whore’s bath’ after that little exchange?”

Jennifer laughed and checked her watch. “No,” she said, “that was just to keep up with the game. But, if YOU were to describe those things to me well, I’d need more than a whore’s bath to be ready to face...”

“Face what?” Richie asked.

“Jennifer!” her mother called from the kitchen. “We’re here! Joan and Ava found us, and we’re making dinner.”

Richie looked at Jennifer, surprised. “Told you I wasn’t going to tell you the next time my family was descending. How’s your lap?”

“Shriveling,” Richie said, making Jennifer laugh.

Arms around each other’s waists, Richie helped Jennifer limp up the hall. They hit the entryway just as a little voice called out “Auntie Jen! Where are you?”

“Right here, bean,” Jennifer called out, and stooped over to hug her niece. “Oooh, I missed you,” she said, hugging the little girl close. Joanna wrapped her legs around Jennifer’s waist, and Jen hoisted the little girl onto her hip with a groan.

“You alright, babe?” Richie asked, putting a gentle hand on her back.

“Fine, sweetie,” she said, and tipped her head back for a kiss.

Joanna studied Richie. “I remember you, you were at Grandma’s house.” She studied Riche’s face. “You kissed Auntie Jen.”

Richie laughed and tapped a fingertip on the end of her nose. “I sure did,” he said.

Jennifer put her niece down and greeted her brother and sister-in-law. “Hey guys,” she said. “C’mon in.” She led them to the living room, and had everyone sit down. “MA!” she yelled really loudly, making Joanna laugh. “THE TALL KID IS HERE!”

“For heaven’s sake, you don’t have to yell,” Ma shouted back.

“Well,” Jennifer said, “the doctor said to stay off my knee, so I didn’t want to come ALL the way into the kitchen.”

“Lazy bi— uh, bum,” her brother said, casting a wary eye on his daughter, the parrot. At a dollar a swear, so far this summer Joanna had collected nearly fifty dollars from her father.

“Hello,” Richie’s mother said, as she came out of the kitchen. “I’m Richard’s mother, Joan,” she said, introducing herself to Jennifer’s brother and his family.

“I thought you and Ava were outside?” Richie asked.

“We were, until we heard the car pull up. Jennifer told us her family was coming over today.” She smiled wryly at her son. “Didn’t she let you know?”

“Richard,” Ma said, coming out to say hello to her son. “Ava’s in the kitchen with my husband, finishing the salad.”

Richie wandered off to the kitchen, shaking his head. He wanted to bring Ava out to meet the rest of Jennifer’s family. “Hey Angel,” Richie said to his daughter as he went into the kitchen. “How’s it going?”

“Fine, daddy,” Ava answered, carefully tearing lettuce into little pieces. “I like Ma and John. They’re nice.”

“Jennifer’s brother and wife and niece are here, do you want to come say hi?” Ava shook her head. “What’s wrong, baby?” Richie asked, pulling his daughter into his arms and lifting her up to sit on the counter. John discreetly left the two alone and went to greet his son.

Ava was quiet for a minute. “Ma was telling me about their huge family with all the cousins and aunts and uncles and Jennifer’s got her brother and niece and,” she sniffed. “Does she have room for me?”

Richie was surprised. “Did Jennifer make you feel like she doesn’t?” He was going to have serious words with the woman if she had.

Ava shook her head. “No, daddy, she has been super nice to me. But she already has so many people to love, is there enough left over for me?”

“Of course there is,” Richie said. “She has a lot of love in her to give.” He scooped his daughter up and sat on a kitchen chair, cuddling her into his chest. That’s where Jennifer found them.

“Here you are,” she said, smiling. “The house isn’t THAT big that you forgot how to get to the living room, is it? I can leave a trail of bread crumbs – what’s wrong?”

Ava looked up at Jennifer, and saw actual concern in her face, not the fake stuff that some ladies showed just to make her daddy think they liked her. “Nothing,” she said softly.

Richie shook his head, letting Jennifer know there was something wrong, but he’d talk to her about it later. “Are you sure, sweetie? Did Ma make you upset? We can shove her in the fireplace if she did.”

That made Ava laugh. “No, Ma is cool.” She was quiet for a minute. “She said you have six sets of aunts and uncles, and fifteen cousins and some of your cousins have kids.”

Jennifer nodded. “Yep, my mom is one of seven kids, and my grandmother is one of eleven, so Ma had ten sets of aunts and uncles, and THEY all have kids and grand kids and some of them have great-grandkids.” She laughed. “Nanna’s grandkids, me and my brother and my cousins, planned an 85th birthday party for her. We invited every family member we could find. We had more than a hundred and fifty people. There are a whole lot of us Petruzzo’s running around.”

“And you know every single one of them?” Ava asked.

Jennifer had no idea where this was going. “Some of them I hadn’t met until the day of the party. But, I know them all now, well the ones who came to the party anyway, and love every single one of them.”

“That’s a lot.”

“A lot of what? People to love?” Jennifer asked, and Ava nodded. “It is, I guess, but it isn’t even everyone. I mean of course I love my family, but I love my friends and their families too, and I know a LOT of people.” She laughed.

“And you love Daddy,” Ava said.

“Yep, and you and your grandma Joan too,” Jennifer said.

Ava’s eyes went wide. “You do?”

“Of course I do! Oh, unless that makes you feel uncomfortable, then I guess I can try to stop,” Jen answered.

Ava wriggled down off her father’s lap and crossed to Jennifer. She gave the woman a gentle hug. “No, that’s okay. I don’t mind. Can I meet your niece now?”

Jennifer stroked Ava’s hair and met Richie’s eyes over his daughter’s head, a question in them. Richie just nodded and smiled and mouthed, “later” and Jennifer took Ava’s hand and led her out to the other room.

The two girls hit it off right away, though Ava was nearly six years older. She helped Joanna set the table, then the two girls ran around the house playing some game that only they knew. Dinner was a loud and boisterous affair, with Ma and Joan telling stories about their respective children, and lots of laughter. They demolished the better part of two trays of lasagna and two loaves of garlic bread.

After the girls were excused, the women chatted at one end of the table, while Richie and the Johns talked football. Jennifer thought it would come to blows when they started talking about the most recent SuperBowl. They got themselves under control, but not before Joanna made fifteen dollars that night.

Jennifer’s parents left after dessert, and Joan excused herself to go upstairs and watch a show she liked. Jennifer and Sue were in the kitchen with the girls, who were playing a game at the table. The men were in the living room, talking shop. Richie was surprised that Jennifer’s brother knew so much about different instruments and musical arrangements, and enjoyed talking with him. “Man, we should jam together some time. You know, just mess around.”

John’s eyes went wide. “Really?” he asked. “That would be cool. How long you here for?”

Richie shrugged. “That depends on your sister, I guess,” he said. “I’ll stay until she gets sick of me, or until I need to take Ava back to her mother’s.”

John considered the man across from him. “You know that if you hurt her, Dad and I will kill you, right?”

Richie nodded somberly. “I know,” he said. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on hurting your sister. I love her.”

“John, leave him alone,” Jennifer said, coming back into the living room. “You are the younger brother, dear, and I can take care of myself.”

John smiled and stood to buss her sister’s cheek. “Someone has to look out for you,” he said. “You typically make shitty decisions when it comes to men.” He winked at Richie. “This one seems okay though.” He went into the kitchen to collect the rest of his family. Jennifer just shook her head.

“Sorry about that,” she said. “The men in my family are protective of their women.”

“So I gathered,” Richie answered. “So about earlier...”

“Yeah, what happened? Did I do something to upset Ava?” Jennifer crossed the room slowly, and sat on Richie’s lap.

Richie shook his head. “No, she was just concerned when your mother was talking about what a big family you have that you wouldn’t have room in your heart for her.”

Jennifer got tears in her eyes. “Oh that poor child,” she said. “Of course there’s room in my heart for her.”

“You handled it perfectly, though you didn’t know what you were handling.” He kissed her tenderly.

“Jeez, guys, there are kids in the room,” John said, and the girls giggled. “We’re gonna take off. Gotta get the monster to bed.”

“I’m not a monster,” Joanna said. “I’m a girl.”

“Bye, guys,” Jennifer said, not leaving the comfort of Richie’s lap. Joanna ran over for hugs and kisses from her aunt then looked at Richie.

“Bye, Uncle Richie,” she said, and kissed his cheek. Then she ran over to Ava. “Are you my cousin now?” she asked, as she hugged the girl. “I always wanted a girl cousin. Uncle Greg and Uncle Matt have all boys.”

Ava smiled. “I don’t think I’m officially your cousin, but we can pretend.”

“Okay,” Joanna said happily.

The adults exchanged hugs and kisses, and Jennifer’s family left. “Well,” she said to Ava, “what did you think of my family?”

“They were fun. I really like Joanna, and your brother is funny, like Uncle David.”

“They liked you too, Joanna-bean especially,” Jennifer said.

“Why do you call her bean?” Ava asked.

Jennifer laughed. “The very first picture I ever saw of her was a sonogram, and she looked like little kidney bean, so I nicknamed her ‘bean’. Guess it just stuck.”

“What did you think I looked like when you saw me?”

Jennifer smiled. “A beautiful, golden flower. You’re so tall, and your hair is like molten gold,” she said, sifting it through her fingers. “I think you look like a beautiful Sundrop. Should I call you that?”

Ava smiled. “That would be cool. I’m going to go upstairs and see what Grandma is doing.”

“Ok, Sundrop,” Jennifer said, smiling. She and Richie watched the girl run up the stairs.

“Thank you,” Richie said.

“For what?” Jennifer asked.

“For making her feel like she’s part of your family. She hasn’t had the best couple of years.”

“Rich, you don’t have to thank me for that. She’s a wonderful little girl, and for as long as you’re part of my life, she’s part of my family.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I was so nervous about meeting her. She’s a dream.” Jennifer yawned widely. “Speaking of dreams, I need to go make some. I’m exhausted.”

“I’m not tired yet; I’ll walk you up, but I’m gonna stay up for a while.” He scooped Jennifer up and carried her upstairs. He’s been keeping his promise of always carrying her to bed, and Jennifer giggled the whole way. Richie deposited her gently on the bed, and kissed her thoroughly.

“Your eyes are closing, baby,” he said gently. “Go to bed. I’ll be in later.”

“Okay, sweetheart. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Surprise!

2009-09-08T15:55:00.000-04:00

“Darlin’, we’re here,” Richie announced into the gate at the end of the driveway, even as he punched in the code.

“You made great time from the airport,” Jen’s voice answered. “Now hurry up so I can meet your daughter, and we can get dinner going.”

The gates slid open and Riche’s rental glided through.

“Daddy, this is almost as big as our house,” she said. “Is Jennifer in a band, too?”

Richie laughed. “No sweetie, she makes her money using her brains, not her voice.”

“Whoa,” his daughter answered, as the house came into view. “It’s so pretty!”

Richie parked the car and switched off the ignition. “Ready?” he asked the two ladies in the back.

“Ready, dear,” Joan answered, smiling. “Why didn’t she mention anything about meeting me, dear?” she added sweetly.

Richie was saved from answering by the front door opening. Jennifer came out onto the porch, smiling and waving.

“Oh, Richard, she’s lovely,” Joan said. “Her poor leg.”

“She’s alright, Ma,” Richie answered. “Uh, c’mon.”

Jennifer had watched the sleek black car wind up the driveway. The windows were tinted, so she couldn’t see where Ava was sitting. She was nervous to meet this little girl. She knew that Richie doted on his daughter, as a Dad should, and hoped like crazy that Ava would like her.

As Richie’s door opened, he unfolded his frame from the seat with a grace big men didn’t often enjoy. When he stood, and smiled at her, Jennifer’s heart started to beat faster. She was so glad he was here. “Where’s your daughter?” she called out.

The rear driver-side door opened, and a tall, gorgeous little blonde girl emerged. She wore denim capris and layered tank tops and plastered herself to her father’s side, waving shyly at Jennifer. “Hi,” she called. “I’m Ava. I like your house.”

“Hi Ava,” Jennifer called back. “Thanks, I’m Jennifer, and I like it too. Come on in.”

“What about Grandma?”

“Grandma?” Jennifer asked. Holy shit, she thought, he brought his mother. A moment of panic swept through her, quickly replaced by annoyance. She was going to kill Richie. “Of course Grandma can come in too. Where is she?”

The other rear door opened, and an older woman with Riche’s easy smile slid out. She was wearing light cotton pants and a peach sweater over an ivory shell. “Right here, dear. It’s lovely to meet you.” Jennifer came down the stairs slowly and extended her hand to Richie’s mother.

She was going to absolutely kill him for not warning her.

“It’s a pleasure and a surprise to meet you, Mrs. Sambora. Welcome to my home.”

“What on earth were you thinking?” Joan asked her son, cuffing the back of his head. They were in the room Jennifer had chosen for her; the one next to Ava’s. Richie was helping his mother unpack her things. “You don’t spring a surprise like this on a woman! Honestly.” She had taken one look at the visage of terror on Jen’s face, and knew that her usually smart son hadn’t bothered to tell her that he was bringing his mom for a visit. Jennifer had covered nicely, though.

“Ma, I didn’t want to make her nervous, worrying about you coming,” Richie answered. “And truth be told, it was sort of a spur-of-the-moment decision. To come with Ava, I mean.”

Joan shook her head. “I don’t care. You needed to give the woman a warning.”

Ava came in then, with Jennifer close behind. “She’s got the coolest fireplace, Grandma. I bet we could fit a car in there!”

“Even your Daddy’s Humvee?”

“Even that one,” she said, smiling. “And there are ducks in the pond out back, and a room just for watching movies, like at Uncle Jon’s house, and…” she chattered on, talking about the tour Jennifer had taken her on.

She shot a glare at Richie, and he looked sheepishly down at his feet. “Uh, sorry about springing Ma on you.”

“Richard!” Joan admonished. “Do not compound your idiocy by lying to the woman.” She looked at her granddaughter. “Your father didn’t tell Jennifer that I was coming. He thought it would make a nice surprise.”

Ava frowned up at her grandmother. “Why wouldn’t you be a nice surprise?”

Jennifer laughed. “It’s fine, really. I have the room, and you’re not nearly as scary as I thought you’d be. Did Rich show you the bathroom and where the towels and such are?” Joan nodded. “Great. Why don’t we all go downstairs to the kitchen for some fresh lemonade?”

“C’mon, Grandma,” Ava chirped, pulling on the older woman’s hand. “I know where everything is already.”

When they were out of earshot, Jennifer punched Richie in the arm.

“Ow!” he complained, rubbing his bicep. “Jen, I know I should have told you, but you were already so nervous at meeting Ava and—”

“And you thought it would be better to spring them both on me at once? Nice.” She shook her head. “Remind me to forget to tell you the next time my family’s dropping by, Mr. Sleeps Naked.” She sighed. “Oh, alright, come help me downstairs.”

Down in the kitchen, Ava and Joan were sitting in the sunny nook, overlooking the back yard. “You have a lovely home,” Joan said. “Ava showed me all around down here.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Sambora.”

“’Joan’, honey,” she said. “Please call me ‘Joan’.”

“Joan then, thank you. I wasn’t planning on anything fancier than hamburgers and hot dogs out on the grill for dinner. I could zip out the store and get something else if you’d rather have something more grown-up.”

“Heavens no,” Joan answered. “Whatever you have planned is perfectly fine. What can I do to help?”

“Not a thing. Rich is going to do all the work. We can sit and you can tell me all about when he was little, and all the stupid things he used to do.”

“As opposed to this latest smart thing?”

Jennifer laughed. “Exactly so. Would you like an onion burger or a cheese one?”

Joan smiled. “Cheese, please.”

“Just like me, Grandma!” Ava said. “’Cept I’m having a hot dog too because I’m starving!”

“There’s some fruit in the fridge if you’d like.” She turned to Richie. “Please bring the fruit salad and some bowls and spoons, then you can get dinner going. The rolls are in the freezer and need to be thawed before they’re toasted. The meat’s in the fridge. Onions and cheese are already diced, you just have to add them to the meat and make the patties – the press is over there,” she pointed to the counter, then turned away.

Richie swallowed hard. He certainly hoped Jennifer wasn’t too mad at him. He wanted to be able to enjoy this visit with all his girls. He fetched the fruit, bowls, and spoons and brought them to the table. When he turned to go back to the fridge, Jen caught his arm. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked, eyes twinkling. When he just stared at her, she tapped her cheek.

Smiling widely, he leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Hi baby,” he said. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she answered, and leaned forward to peck his lips. “Now, back to the cooking ,wench!”

Ava and Joan laughed, and Joan launched into a story about Richie as a precocious 3-year old who steadfastly refused to keep his clothes on. Ava told a story about how he bought her a purple Hannah Montana guitar, and tuned it in the store before bringing it home, and how the clerk took his picture with his camera phone, “and Daddy had to pay him a hundred dollars to erase the picture.”

“Yeah,” Richie said, “it was just what I didn’t need Uncle David ever seeing.” He took the plate of meat out to the patio. “You want to eat out here?” he called back into the kitchen.

“Sure,” Jennifer answered.

After Richie cooked, they all enjoyed their dinner out in the warm evening air. When the bugs came out in earnest, they adjourned to the living room, and Joan had Ava run up to her room to bring down the albums she had brought. Jennifer, sitting on Richie’s lap, clapped with delight as Joan flipped through the “Photos of young Richard” as she called them.

By the time they got through the last of the albums, Ava was nodding off. Richie scooped her up and carried her up the stairs. “If you wait,” he said softly, I’ll be back for you.”

“No, don’t be silly,” Jennifer said. “I can manage for one night.” She turned to Joan and said, “Rich told me that he’d carry me up to bed at night when he was here so I didn’t have to do the stairs. He’s very sweet.”

“When he isn’t being an idiot, yes, he is a sweet boy,” Joan answered.

“Ma,” Richie complained.

“Clean slate tomorrow,” Joan sing-songed. “A rule in our house,” she explained to Jennifer. “No matter what happened, it had to be resolved by the time you retired. When you woke up, it was with a clean slate.”

When they got upstairs, Richie brought Ava into her room and Jennifer pulled down the bedclothes for her. When Richie put her down, she yawned and asked innocently, “Where is your room, Daddy?”

He pointed out the door and said, “Across the hall, baby girl.”

Ava frowned. “But that’s Jennifer's room".

“Yes dear,” Joan said, winking at Jennifer. “Daddy’s sleeping in there to help her in the night if she needs it. Her bed is very tall, remember?”

Ava nodded. “OK, Nanna, but you are so lying. I’ll bet he just missed her."

“You’re both right honey,” Richie said, kissing her daughter’s forehead. “Now get some sleep, and tomorrow, when Jen goes to work, I’ll show you all around her town. Maybe we can go into Boston too, and meet her for lunch?” He looked at Jennifer, who nodded.

“That sounds great, Rich,” Jennifer answered. “Goodnight Ava, sweetheart. If you need anything, come right in and get your Daddy, okay?”

“Okay. Do you have to work all week?”

Jennifer smiled and sat on the edge of Ava’s bed. “Nope, my boss is a great guy, and I’ve arranged to go in tomorrow because it’s Monday, and get things all set up for the week. Then, I can work from my home-office the rest of the time. It’ll be great, because then I don’t have to dress up.” She pulled a face.

Ava giggled. “I like to dress up.”

“Me too, once in a while, but every day? Bo-ring.” She rolled her eyes, making Ava giggle again. “We’ll have plenty of time to hang out get to know each other, alright?”

“Okay. Can we swim in the lake?”

Jennifer shuddered. “If you want, but the water’s icky. We can go to my Mom’s one day; she has a pool and would love to meet you and your grandmother, I’m sure.”

“How come you don’t have a pool?”

Jen laughed. “I promised my Dad I wouldn’t get one; that way I have to go see them all the time, at least in the summer. I always keep my promises, especially to my Daddy.”

“Me too.” Ava yawned widely. “I’m sleepy. ‘Night Daddy. ‘Night Grandma. G’night, Jennifer.”

Ava collected goodnight kisses from her father and grandmother, and closed her eyes. Richie and Jennifer said goodnight to Joan at her door, and disappeared into Jennifer’s room. When Jen would have left the door open, Richie closed it behind them.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

Richie took her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. For long minutes, his arms held her up as her legs went weak. For long minutes, his hands spanned her back and held her close to his heart. For long minutes, he made love to her mouth until she was breathless and weak. When he broke the kiss, he smiled into her eyes. “I’m greeting you properly, and didn’t want an audience. Granted, it’s not how I want to spend our first night back together, but I can’t be sure that Ava won’t wake up looking for me.”

All Jennifer could manage was a moan and a whimper.

“Daddy?” a voice called from across the hall.

Richie chuckled. “Be right there, angel,” he called. Kissing Jennifer gently one more time he said, “I’ll be back.”

Jennifer went into her bathroom and reluctantly brushed her teeth – she didn’t really want to wash the taste of him from her mouth, but she did. She changed into her sleep shirt and brushed and braided her long hair, securing it with an elastic.

“We’re back,” Richie said softly.

Jen went back into her room to find Richie standing there with Ava in his arms. “She was scared,” he said apologetically.

“It’s fine, sweetheart.” Jennifer went over and smoothed Ava’s hair away from her face. “Put her on my side.”

Richie put his daughter in the bed, and Jennifer climbed in on Richie’s side, scooting carefully to the middle. Ava sighed and rolled over, opening her eyes sleepily.

“It’s alright, Ava,” Jennifer said, stroking the girl’s soft hair. “Daddy’s right here in case we need him.”

“Okay,” she said, and closed her eyes again. “G’night, Jennifer.”

“G’night Ava.”

“Good night, Daddy,” Ava said, over Jen’s shoulder.

“Good night, Princess. I love you,” Richie answered, his eyes warm with love for his daughter.

“Love you too. Heaps.” Ava smiled and settled in to the bed, and was asleep in minutes.

Richie snuggled up against Jen’s back, and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Sorry,” he breathed in her ear. “I was hoping for a different kind of night together.”

Jen turned to lie on her back and looked up into Richie’s pretty eyes. “Rich, it’s okay, really,” she whispered. “I want her to be comfortable here, and if this is what it takes to get her used to the house, that’s fine. Honestly.” She hugged Richie to her. “She’s a beautiful, sweet little girl. You done good, Daddy.”

Richie chuckled. “Well it’s more like I didn’t screw her up too badly, but thanks.” He kissed Jen’s lips and settled in next to her. He sighed with pleasure when Jen rested her head on his bicep and slid her arm around his chest. With his family all safely tucked in around him, Richie relaxed and fell asleep.

Agreeing to meet Ava

2009-08-23T01:01:00.000-04:00

Jen spent the next week making up for lost time at work. She was really going to have to reconsider all the vacation time she was taking; it was quickly running out. All week, she and Richie had been talking about Ava. Richie really wanted Jen and Ava to meet; the woman was balking. She was so afraid of messing something up with the most important person in Richie’s life.

One night, she screwed up her courage and asked Jon for his opinion. She wanted to know how Ava handled meeting the other women in Richie’s life, and was shocked to find that other than Denise, who was somewhat of a family friend, Richie hadn’t brought any of the others home. That made her feel a little better until she really sat and thought about it. Then she got extremely nervous.

She chalked her sleeplessness up to those nerves. Since arriving back home Monday afternoon, she hadn’t been able to sleep more than a few hours at a time. Not wanting to take more narcotics, having hated the fuzzy feeling the pain meds had left in her head, she called her doctor who recommended a mild dose of Melatonin before bedtime. It took a few days for it to kick into her system, but she was finally getting some sleep. Maybe, she thought, she’d sleep better if she hashed this out with Richie once and for all.

Sunday night, Richie was just settling in to watch Ghost Rider for the umpteenth time with Ava, when Phantom poured from his phone. Share each day with me, each night, each morning / Say you love me, You know I do / Love me, that's all I ask of you...

“Hey there Jennifer,” Richie said warmly, frowning when he checked his watch. “Everything alright? I thought you had taken your meds already.” Richie was concerned about Jennifer’s trouble sleeping, but after trying to step in and offer advice about her knee and getting firmly but gently rebuked (she saw it as giving orders), he thought he’d stay out of this one.

“I did,” Jennifer said. “I’m sleepy, but I can’t go to sleep without telling you something first.”

Her voice sounded serious and Richie was instantly on edge. Ava noticed the change in her father, and switched attention from the movie to his face.

“Is everything alright?” Richie asked her. “You sound like something’s wrong.”

“Something is wrong, and I want to apologize for it.” That was all Jennifer said. Richie’s mind what spinning. What the hell was she talking about?

“Jen, darlin’, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you’re making me extremely nervous.” He saw his daughter watching him avidly, and grinned at her, motioning her to get back to her movie.

Ava, wanting to hear what was going on and being no dummy, turned her eyes back to the screen, but kept her attention on her father. That way he wouldn’t leave the room to finish the call. She was upset that her father hadn’t brought his girlfriend to meet her. He talked about Jennifer and her family, and they sounded cool and she really wanted to meet them. She was disappointed when she couldn’t go to the ArenaBowl with them, and thought for sure Jennifer would have come home with him after, but she didn’t. Then her father told her about the injury to her leg, and Ava sort of understood why the woman wouldn’t want to come out to LA where she didn’t know how to get around, but Ava thought it was crazy that they weren’t going to Boston to stay with her.

Ava hadn’t seen her father this happy for a while, and was smart enough to know that this Jennifer person was most likely the reason he was almost back to his old fun daddy self. Ava really REALLY wanted to meet this woman. Why didn’t this woman want to meet her?

Now her father was making that face again. That face that said that something was wrong, but he didn’t want anyone to know. Ava laughed to herself. Yeah, like it didn’t take all of a week for her to figure out that particular face. She listened intently, wishing she could turn down the volume on the movie, but knowing she couldn’t.

“Jen?” Richie said into the phone again.

“Rich, I’m sorry,” Jennifer began. “I’m sorry for making you think that I didn’t want to meet your daughter. I do. I really do want to be part of your whole life.”

Ava watched as whatever Jennifer was saying made him smile. Good, she thought.

“I want that too, baby, you know I do,” Richie slanted a look at Ava, who had a half-smile on her face, and he knew it wasn’t over Nicholas Cage, who was presently beating the shit out of a group of bikers. “What changed your mind?”

“I talked to Jon,” Jennifer said after a moment’s hesitation. “Please don’t be mad. At either of us. He told me that you haven’t brought any of your other girlfriends home to meet your family since Denise. Is that true?”

Richie looked at Ava again, and stood up from the couch and circled to the back of the room. “Jennifer, I’m not proud of the way I handled my life after Heather and I split. But the one thing I tried to do was shield Ava from most of my mistakes.” He laughed humorlessly. “Even in the back of my head, I must have known that those women were mistakes if I didn’t want my baby girl around them. You are not a mistake.”

“I know,” Jennifer said. “I know that for you to even want to bring me into your daughter’s life that you mean for this to work, and I just got scared at what that meant, and even more scared at the thought of screwing something up with Ava. I didn’t mean to push you away, and I’m so damned sorry, you can’t even imagine.” She was close to tears.

“Jen, honey, it’s alright. I’m just glad you had a change of heart.” He looked over at Ava, who was making absolutely no pretense at watching the movie anymore. “When can we come out to Boston?” he said a little loudly so Ava would hear him. Ava smiled widely.

Jennifer laughed. “Tomorrow if you can manage it. Come whenever you can. I miss you something fierce, and I can’t wait to meet your daughter.”

“Do you want to talk to her?” Richie asked. Ava ran nodded enthusiastically, and Richie laughed. “Apparently she wants to talk to you.”

“Sure,” Jennifer said, “but not too long, I’m fading fast. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Richie said. “Here’s Ava, hang on.” Richie covered the mouthpiece. “Not too long, baby girl,” he said. “It’s after 11:30 her time and she has work in the morning.”

“Okay, daddy, just give me the phone,” Ava said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Richie laughed and handed her the phone.

“Hello?” Ava squeaked. “It’s SO nice to finally talk to you!” Richie chuckled as Ava took the phone and began circling the room.

“Of course we can come tomorrow!” Ava said. “I don’t have to be at school for four whole weeks.”

“Ava,” Richie warned. “We are not staying all month. You’re spending some time with your mother and Jack, remember?”

Ava flapped a hand at him, in a gesture that was pure Heather, making him choke back a laugh. “Do you have a pool? Oh! Or a dog?”

Richie heard Ava laughing and talking animatedly and knew that she and Jennifer were bonding already. A weight lifted off his chest he didn’t realize was there. One down, one to go. He wondered how Jennifer would feel if they stopped to pick up his mother on the way?

Arena Bowl

2009-08-18T00:59:00.000-04:00

Sunday morning, Tiffany stretched luxuriously in Jon's arms. His deep even breaths told her that he was still asleep, and the clock on the nightstand told her that they needed to be awake. They were supposed to be at the Commissioner's Brunch in a little over an hour. Her head was killing her; she really shouldn't have drank quite so much, but she knew better than to let it show or he'd never let her live it down.

"Jon, baby," she said softly, "we need to get up."

Jon had been trying to ignore the movement of the warm body snuggled close to him and continue sleeping, even though her big stretch had caused her delectable ass to rub erotically against his ever present morning hard on. He growled in her ear, "I'm already 'up'."

Tiffany groaned and rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, trust me, I noticed, but we've got places to go, food to eat, people for you to impress, and a football game to win."

Laughing, Jon slapped her bare ass. "Race ya to the shower," he told her as he rolled to the side of the bed.
Tiffany winced, not just at the smack itself, but also the loud sound it made. Somehow, she would make it through this. Usually, a hot shower helped; she crossed her fingers and crawled out of bed.

********

Jennifer groaned when the alarm went off. "Damn, baby, what the hell time is it?"

Richie chuckled and kissed her shoulder. "Darlin', it's a little after nine." He smoothed her hair back from her forehead. "Are you alright?"

"Ugh, yeah," she groaned, sitting gently and rubbing her forehead. "How much did I drink last night?"

"A lot," Richie said, rubbing her back. "Though you handled it well."

"Why didn't you shut me off?"

Richie laughed. "Babe, you get really horny when you get drunk. I wasn't missing out on that. Don't you remember last night?"

Jennifer remembered barely making it back to their suite after the parade wrapped. They had ordered room service, and by the time the cart had arrived, she was stripped to the skin and wrapped in a fluffy hotel robe. Jennifer had taken a cube of ice from the champagne bucket, and trailed it down between her breasts. Richie's mouth went dry as he crossed to her.

He took the ice from her and she unbelted and dropped her robe. He trailed the ice slowly around her breast, circling closer and closer to her nipple until he finally touched it, sending shocks all the way through her body. He held the ice against her nipple where it melted quickly, sending a little rivulet of cold down over her breast and ribs. He did the same to her other breast, all the while watching her reactions. Jennifer gripped his shoulders to keep from falling at his feet, and he could see her pupils dilating as she got more and more turned on. She pulled him fully to her, fitting his growing erection to the apex of her naked thighs. She slowly rubbed against him, as much as her leg would allow, and sucked and licked at his neck.

Riche scooped her up and brought her to the bed. He stripped off his clothes and disappeared into the other room for just a moment, returning with the champagne bucket. He bent over her and took her nipples alternately into his mouth, sucking gently, rubbing his tongue over their tips. Jennifer tilted her hips, begging him to caress her. He chuckled and pulled an ice cube from the bucket and slid it down her chest and dipped it into her navel. Jennifer's breath hitched and he continued the cube's downward trek toward the hottest part of her body. He spread her with his fingertips and slid the cube into her.

The cold against her overheated skin made her gasp loudly, and Riche chuckled. He scooted down her body, and licked at the water that was dripping from her. He alternated between sucking at her clit, and licking at the drippings from the melting ice. Finally, he pressed his mouth to her core, sucking at her until the sliver of ice was pulled from her and he was crunching it between his teeth…

Her self-satisfied smile showed Richie that she remembered every delicious second of last night. He saw her smile turn to a grimace as she realized it was time to get cleaned up and dressed for the day. They needed to meet Jon and T for brunch. "I need a shower," she groaned.

Richie sniffed her dramatically. "You sure do, sweetie," he said, laughing. "You smell like you spent the night in a daiquiri pitcher."

"Fuck you, Rich," Jennifer groused.

"Okay, baby," Richie agreed, and pushed her back on the bed.

"RICH!" she squealed, then whimpered when he rolled over and slid into her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers while he rolled his hips in a slow dance he knew would drive her wild. He captured her screams as she came, and the ripple of her muscles around him triggered his own release.

* * * * *

The Commissioner's Brunch was being held at the Foundry, a restaurant situated near the Mississippi Riverfront in the city's historic and colorful Warehouse District. It occupied the ground floor of a warehouse dating from the 19th century. Wooden columns, two feet thick, rose more than 14 feet from the concrete floor to the wooden ceiling beams. Exposed brick, bearing the patina of many decades, form much of the corner building's walls, one of them partly covered by a mural depicting a quaint French Quarter courtyard scene.

In one corner, a bar reigned; a gleaming expanse of mahogany that Jon longed to run his hand across. He had an appreciation for the finer things in life, and that bar was definitely fine. There was a jazz quintet set up in the middle of the far wall, playing soft standards and setting a mood of celebration and anticipation, and Jon couldn't wait for this damned brunch to be done so he could get to the arena.

The foursome had arrived at 11:00, late enough to miss the initial crush of people, but on time enough to meet the commissioner, and pile their plates high with all sorts of delectable goodies. Richie looked at Jennifer's sparsely piled plate, and added extra crawdads and beignets to her meager pile of food. "I don't want those," she said, looking at them and turning a little green.

"Yeah," Richie answered, "well I do, and my plate's full." He laughed at Jennifer's hangover. She and T had really tied one on last night. "What? I love New Orleans cuisine, and I'm not the one who drank nearly a half gallon of DOA daiquiris last night." He chuckled ruefully. "The morning after is the one thing I don't miss."

"Rich, if you don't get those foul, fishy-smelling things off my plate, I am so going to throw up all over your gorgeous chest and shiny boots." She gagged once, and leveled a stare at him. "Now."

Richie smiled, and quickly took the seafood off Jennifer's plate and put it on his own.

"Jesus, Richie," T said, as he sat across from her. "You really gonna eat all that?"

"Yep," he said smugly.

"Good thing Jennifer helps you work it off," Jon said as the woman in question gingerly sat down, causing Jennifer to blush, and T to smack his shoulder.

While Jon, Richie, and their girls were feasting on local cuisine, the Sonesta crew was getting ready for the game. Decked out in Soul Blue, to a woman, they were ready for their team to declaw the Sabercats.

When they met up in the lobby, their excitement grew. This was going to be one hell of a game. They piled into a cab, and headed across town to the New Orleans Arena. After having their bags checked and their pat-downs, they found their seats. Sam and Cheryl were several rows behind Gail and Steph, and they all had a good view of the owners' boxes. "There's Jen," Cheryl said, nudging Sam and pointing at the box. She texted Steph to have her look up, then texted Jennifer. "BOO!" she sent.

Jennifer had just sat down when her bag buzzed. She drew out her Blackberry and chuckled. "What's so funny?" Richie asked. Jennifer showed him the message. "Where are they?" he asked.

Jennifer had a general idea of where the girls were and scanned the stands. She still couldn't find them so she texted back "Where R U?"

Cheryl laughed and called Jennifer's cell. "I'm standing and waving," she said, giggling. "Can you see me?"

Jennifer burst out in hysterical laughter. "You and 10,000 other people, you nut," she said. "I'm looking; where are you?"

Cheryl turned toward the booth. "We're on the Soul side, close to midfield, dozen or so rows back. We're all in Soul Blue, and I have my pom-poms."

"You tease," Jennifer said, getting Richie's attention. She smiled at him. "Cheryl has pom-poms, and I have a cheerleader fetish, babe," she said, winking.

"Oh! I see you! Can you see us?"

Richie chuckled. "I have one of those too," he said, standing to nuzzle her neck.

"Yeah," Cheryl said, "I see Richie attacking you, lucky bitch."

"Rich," Jennifer said, "everyone can see us."

"So what?" Richie said. "Let 'em look and be jealous."

"Have some ego, why don't you?" Jennifer asked, rolling her eyes.

Richie laughed softly. "I mean the guys," he said. "They'll all be jealous of me."

"I'll call ya back," Jennifer said distractedly into the phone, and hung up. She wrapped her arms around Richie's neck and kissed him for all she was worth. "I love you," she said.

"Jesus, you two," Jon said, coming into the box with T in tow. "Give it a rest already, wouldya?"

"Sorry bro," Richie said. "No can do. I can't get enough of her."

"Well," Jon said, "at least cool it for now." He pulled T to his side, and stepped away from the windows. Kissing her soundly, he asked her, "You ready for the game, baby?"

"Oh, absolutely," T answered.

Throughout the game, Jon had continually been shaking the little bag that Tiff had gotten for him from a voodoo priestess in the French Quarter. Tiff had called it a good ju-ju bag. The little bag had been passed back and forth, 'round and 'round, but when the Soul took the lead in the second quarter, Richie handed it to him over his shoulder. Laughing, Jon shook it toward the players on the field.

Shortly after that, Jon began to notice just how often the camera was on him. So far, his body guard, Obie, Matt and Richie had done a good job of helping him shield Tiff from the cameras. Jon had told them before the game that she really didn't want the media attention that would come with being seen with him, just yet. His friends and family had immediately liked her and had stepped up to help Jon protect her from the media. There was a brief moment where Jon was sure that they'd been close to putting her on national television. That's when he left the box and moved to sit in a seat high in the rafters; he moved a few times trying to make the cameras hunt him. It gave his family, friends and Tiff a break. He was used to the attention, even though he'd constantly asked to be left alone during the games.

By half-time, the Soul had a healthy lead. By the end of the third quarter, it was starting to look real good. Jon moved back to his box. He wanted to be with Tiff, his friends and family, when his team won. With less than two minutes left in the game John Fry came over to congratulate him. He really wanted to spike a football and yell, "In your face, Fry!", but he did manage to be gracious and a good sport. Even though he was trying to pay attention to the other man, Jon caught sight of Rich and Jennifer over Fry's left shoulder.

The couple stood laughing and congratulating with Obie and Matt. Rich had his arm around Jennifer's shoulders like he didn't want her to get too far from him. Jennifer's arm was around Rich's waist. Jon noticed that her hand disappeared under the guitarist's jacket. He just grinned, shook his head, and gave himself a mental pat on the back. As always, he'd been right about her.

When Fry left, he felt small hands encircle his waist from behind and knew it was her long before he felt the full length of her body press tightly against his back. He could feel her warm breath even through his jacket as she pressed her cheek against his shoulder.

"Congratulations, baby," she said softly. Her voice had the same combination of fire and smoothness as good aged bourbon.

"Thank you, baby," he answered. "Ready to go to Harrah's?"

"Do I have to?"

"No," he answered, but she could hear the sadness in his voice.

"I was kidding Jon. Of course, I'd support you and go. I'm just not looking forward to the media shit."

Jon turned in her arms and grinned down at her. "Repeat after me. No comment."

"What? Are you kidding me? What if they ask my name?"

"Repeat after me," he said more forcefully, "No comment."

"No comment," she said, shrugging.

He shook his head and chided, "Put more feeling into it. Like this...No comment," he let his voice rise with authority on the last word.

"No comment," she repeated dutifully.

"There ya go," he said with enthusiasm. "Now, I need to get to the field. Wanna meet me at the limo?" He really didn't want her in the crush on the field.

"Sounds good," she told him, standing up on her toes to kiss him quickly.

Neither of them realized that Jennifer and Richie had walked up behind Jon, until the other woman laughed. "Sounds good to me too. I really have no desire to fight that crowd."

With his hands on her hips, Richie pulled her flush with his front. "I'd rather you not go down there and get pushed around, either. Your knee could get hurt worse."

"Kev," Jon called out, and a huge mountain of a man appeared instantly.

"No way, boss. I'm going out on the field with you. You'll have to get someone else to escort the ladies."

Smiling, Jon shook his head. "See, people really think I'm the boss 'round here," he told Tiff.

Quickly, he arranged with Matt and Obie to ride in the elevator down to field level with them and then escort Tiff and Jen to the limo. The mood in the elevator was jubilant with teasing and laughter bouncing off the walls.

At ground level, Jon pulled Tiffany close for a brief kiss. "I won't be long," he assured her, before allowing Kevin and Richie to pull him toward the field.

Tiffany waved to him as he disappeared, then she and Jen turned to follow Obie and Matt to limo. Jen was just climbing into the backseat with Tiffany when her blackberry buzzed again. It was a text message from Cheryl.

"What a game, huh? GO SOUL! Bet Jon's ecstatic. Is that other woman his G/F? She's pretty. What's she like? We're all dying with curiosity!"

Jen showed the text to Tiffany. They shared a chuckle as Jen began typing a reply. "Yep. GO SOUL. He is. Yep. Uh-huh. She's a bitch. Curiosity won't really kill ya, ya know."

After a whole lot of “no comment” at Harrah’s, and some good drinks and great food, Jon, Richie, and the girls were more than ready to leave. The car pulled up in front of the hotel. The coast looked clear, so Richie and Jen left the car first. As they approached the doors of the hotel, a photographer jumped out at them and snapped their picture. Jon and Tiff stayed in the car, and were going to have the driver go around back. Startled by the flash, Jennifer jumped, which was a mistake, and fell into Richie’s arms. The photog snapped another picture of them clinched together.

The reporter with the photographer called out to Richie, “Hey! Hey, Richie! This cutie with you have a name?”

Jennifer bristled at being called a cutie by this slug, but stayed quiet, remembering the “no comment” bit from the casino. But, she thought, she didn’t really mind if people knew who she was. Her family and friends already knew about Richie, and his about her, so there were no feelings to be hurt – there was really no harm in them knowing her name. Richie looked to her as if for permission, and she nodded giving her consent to be named. “This is Jennifer Petruzzo,” Richie said, putting his arm around her shoulders. “She’s my beautiful new girlfriend.”

“Jennifer, doll, how’d you two meet? Where are you from? What do you do? How did you get hurt? What’d you think of the game?” The reporter was firing off questions as fast as he could, and Jennifer just rolled her eyes and burst out laughing.

“Take a breath man, before you pass out,” she said with a voice made husky by all the cheering and screaming she did at the game. She looked at Richie, who winked at her. “OK,” she said, and took a deep breath, and ticked off on her fingers. “A mutual friend. Boston. Information Technology. Stupidity. Exhilarating. We done? Good. Thanks.”

Richie nodded to the doorman who let the couple in, but kept the reporters outside. “You okay?” Richie asked.

“Yeah,” Jennifer answered, “but he scared the shit out of me when he jumped out like that.” She sighed. “Listen,” she said. “At the risk of sounding conceited, how much do they care who I am?”

Richie shrugged. “Some, at least for now,” he said. “Why?”

Jennifer told him about her history in financial services, the killing she made in the stock market in the nineties, and the SEC investigation and her subsequent vindication. “It’s all out there if you Google me, even though it’s been more than ten years.” She blinked back tears. “Sorry, Rich,” she said. “If they bother, they’re gonna find out all about it.”

Richie shook his head. “Baby, if that’s the worst thing you’ve done, or haven’t done, I wouldn’t even worry about it,” he said, as they entered the elevator.

Richie kept Jennifer’s mind off the trip up to their floor by pressing her against the wall and kissing her senseless. When the doors slid open, he helped her gimp out of what she called a coffin-on-a-string and down the hall. Stopping outside the room, Richie reached into his pants for the key. “Close your eyes,” he said to Jennifer. She complied, heart pounding in anticipation.

Richie opened the door, and told Jennifer to open her eyes. She gasped. The suite had fresh purple lilacs, her very favorite flowers, in small vases around the room, the scent lingering every where she walked. There were dozens of candles around the room, varying in sizes and colors, some left unlit, while others were burning brightly. The place had a romantic air, and the fact that he went through the effort to do this made her heart sing.

Richie smiled as she looked around the room, and closed the door, setting the “Do Not Disturb” sign out first. He took Jennifer in his arms and slanted his mouth across hers; tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue for an instant before she opened to him. He moaned and danced her backwards toward the bed, being careful not to jar her. When they reached the bed, he stopped, and ran his hands roughly over the Soul jersey she was wearing.

“I meant to tell you,” he said, “I love your shirt.”

“I thought you would,” Jennifer answered. Her Soul shirt sported the number 59, and the name ‘Wingman’ on the back. She had it custom done after the Soul won the last playoff game, and had it express shipped to her so she’d have it in time for the game.

Richie pulled the shirt up and over her head, and quickly dispensed with her bra. Jennifer slid off Richie’s black jacket and tore open the bottom of his green silk shirt, sending the buttons skittering across the room. She slipped her finger into his belt and unfastened it, then unbuttoned the tight denim and lowered the zipper. She pushed at his jeans, purposefully grazing his growing erection until he groaned and shoved at his own clothes. He toed off his boots and kicked free of his pants.

He peeled her jersey skirt down and off, taking care not to jostle her leg, and groaned when he saw she had no panties on.

“When?” he asked, his breath hitching.

“When I ducked into the Ladies’ before we left the game,” Jennifer answered smiling. “I left them behind.”

When he straightened, Richie sucked at and teased her nipples until they stood at attention. He kissed his way up her chest to her neck, and playfully nipped at her neck and under her ear. He traced the lines of her face, and glided his hand down, skimming her nipples and ribs. He slowly slid his fingers further down, past her stomach and into the nest of curls at the top of her thighs.

Jennifer wanted his fingers further south, so she rolled her hips until his fingers played across her clit and the little ring there. Richie chuckled and slid his hand down far enough to plunge two fingers into her. Jennifer groaned and rolled her hips in time with Richie’s thrusts. Her hands gripped his biceps firmly, almost painfully, as the waves of her orgasm mounted.

“You alright, baby?” Richie asked.

She only nodded her voice failing her in her neediness. She wound her arms tightly around his neck. He withdrew his fingers and grinned at her, sliding a wet, gentle finger along her slit.

"Well, well, well…who's my wanton wet girl?" he teased her, his fingers dancing over her pussy and finding her clit ring again and flicking it gently. Again she shuddered, close to orgasm and he stopped. "Oh you like that? Mmmm I thought you might."

Richie led her to the bed, and urged her to lie down. He thrust his fingers forcefully all the way into her drenched pussy and went straight for the g-spot. She came on his hand with a scream, her whole body jerking with the force. He continued pumping her gently, feeling her build again. Richie wrapped an arm around Jennifer’s shoulders, holding her while she came apart.

"You like that, don't you baby?" he said still smiling as he wiggled his fingers inside her and bent over to suckle at her breast, nipping and biting gently at the hardened raised nipple. She quivered and whimpered like a kitten, and made mewling noises in the back of her throat. Her whole life, she had never felt like this with a man before. She was feeling completely wanton, and was totally enveloped by lust and passion, she orgasmed over and over again. Richie finally slid his hand from her and chuckled at her moan of disappointment. “Damn,” he said to her. He gently climbed up onto her body and, licking her open panting mouth, he slid his hard cock in where his fingers had just been and began to stroke slowly, gently, teasing her more.

She moaned loudly into his mouth, her hands molding themselves to his shoulders, his back and his ass. She ran her hands across his chest and arms, wanting to touch him everywhere at once.

Richie groaned and fucked her harder; each stroke pulling out very slowly until he had nearly slipped from her body, then slamming his full weight forward to drive into her. Over and over he drilled her body till she was nothing but jelly. Jennifer’s nails dug into his shoulders, and Richie hissed, and when she came this time, she nearly tore his cock off at the root.

He pushed through the spasms, riding her like the wild animal she had become. She hooked her good leg around his waist and pulled him in tighter, raising her hips slightly, and screaming with new release. Richie groaned and pumped faster, the friction unbearably hot, but feeling unbelievably good. The veins stood out on his neck, and sweat dripped from his brow onto Jennifer’s upturned face. He shouted her name as he empted into her, the rippling of her walls finally taking him over.

Spent, he slipped from her and rolled to her side cuddling her close. Richie looked at Jennifer, who was panting as hard as he was, and smiled. “Jesus, Jennifer, I sure am glad the Soul won,” he said.

Note that the Jon/Tiff parts were written by T

Arena Bowl Weekend: Saturday

2009-08-13T01:00:00.000-04:00

Pacing the baggage claim area Saturday morning, Jon hoped the baseball cap and sunglasses would keep him from being recognized. He hadn't intended to be in here this long, but Tiffany's flight was late. Shoving his fists into his pockets in frustration, he turned to walk back down the length of the baggage carousel. When he'd checked the airline’s website before he'd left the hotel, it had said that her flight was on time, but once he'd gotten here, he'd asked and been told that it was going to be a few minutes late.

He jerked his left hand out of his pocket to glare angrily at his watch. Twenty minutes late. Damn. If it was much later, they wouldn't have any time at all alone before they had to meet Richie and Jennifer at the hotel restaurant. He turned to walk back down the length of the carousel and noticed the two women on the other side. They were talking excitedly and one was motioning in his direction. Apparently, he'd been recognized. He just hoped they'd leave him alone; it would depend on whether or not they were fans.

The announcement came over the intercom that Tiffany's flight had just landed. Glancing warily at the two women every few minutes, he kept an eye on the line of people coming through from arrivals. Finally, he caught a glimpse of honey colored hair before a tall red headed man blocked his view of her.

"Tiff," he called, waving.

With wide eyes, her head jerked in his direction. She quickened her pace, getting around the tall man in front of her. Once her path was cleared, she broke into a run. Running straight for him, she dropped her carry-on right before she threw herself into his arms.

Her lips met his in a hungry kiss. Conscious of eyes on them, particularly since they were eyes that had recognized him, he pulled away from her. "God, I missed you, baby. Let's get the hell outta here."

"I need to get my bag," she told him.

Knowing she was right, Jon nodded. He jerked his head toward the two women who were now standing just a few feet from them. "We need to hurry this up a little bit."

Seeing the problem, Tiffany said softly, "Why don't you duck on out of here? I can get my bag and meet you outside."

"Nope," he shook his head. "My mom would have my head if I let you carry your bag outta here."

"Jon," she began.

"Tiff, just point out which one is yours."

Just as Tiffany saw her bag come around on the conveyor belt and was about to point it out to him, the women got brave. They hurried up to Jon. One gushing; the other just staring at him, slack-jawed.

"Mr. Bon Jovi," the only one that was apparently capable of speech cried, "could we please get an autograph and maybe a picture?"

Jon flashed a pained expression at Tiffany, before he turned toward the two women with a big pasted on smile. "Of course."

Tiffany chuckled as she walked away toward her bag. She'd let him play the adored rock star while she got her bag. They were to the picture taking stage when Tiffany got back to them. The women were polite enough not to ask Jon who she was, and Tiffany was glad that they didn't.

Jon finally excused himself from the women and grabbed Tiffany's bag. "C'mon, baby. Let's get the hell outta here." He took off at a brisk clip for the nearest exit, and Tiffany had to almost run to keep up.

When they cleared the exit, hot, humid air hit Tiffany hard in the face. Jon had barely reached the curb when a black sedan pulled up in front of him, and the trunk popped open. Her bag was in the trunk, and Jon was opening the back door for her before she could even blink.

Once they were behind the tinted glass of the windows, Jon pulled her into his lap. With one arm supporting her back and those fingers in her hair, he cupped her cheek with his free hand. Tiffany closed her eyes as his lips descended towards hers.

"God, Tiff. I need you," he murmured huskily in her ear.

"What time are we meeting Rich and Jen?"

"In a few minutes," Jon growled. "Your flight being late gives us no time."

"We'll make up for it later."

"We better," he said, grinning.

When they got to the hotel, Jon tipped a bellhop to take her bags up to his room, then led her to the restaurant. Richie and Jennifer were already there waiting on them. Richie stood just as they reached the table. Jon began the introductions with a grin at his friend.

After the introductions, the two couples settled down for a light lunch and some get-acquainted talk. Jon and Richie were surprised at how quickly T and Jennifer had settled into normal conversation, and were just staring at them.

“What?” T asked them, then turned to Jennifer with a big, fake smile.

“No, no spinach in there,” Jen said, laughing, then checked to make sure her buttons were all done up.

“No inappropriate cleavage showing, Hath,” T answered, giggling. “I mean Jennifer.”

They turned to the guys. “What’s the problem?” they said at the same time.

Jon burst out laughing. “You two have just met, right?”

T rolled her eyes. “In person, yes. But you forget, we’ve phoned, emailed, IM’d, text messaged. . .” she trailed off, and Jennifer picked right up.

“So, you could say we know each other pretty well already.” She slid her friend a glance. “Though I still don’t know what the ‘T’ stands for.”

“Nice try, Jen,” T said, sticking her tongue out at the other woman.

They all shared a laugh, and tucked into their lunches. They turned the conversation to the parade later and the game tomorrow. Inevitably, the talk turned to what-ifs. Jennifer brought it up first, asking what if the Soul don’t win. Jon gave her a look that was pure Jon-the-actor. The shock at the thought that his team wouldn’t win was etched into every feature, and made Richie laugh.

“Darlin’,” Richie said to Jennifer, “we don’t even joke about that,” he said. “It’s bad ju-ju.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Ju-ju?”

Jon sniffed. “Well, we ARE in New Orleans,” he said.

The foursome hurried through their lunch, each couple having things they wanted to do. Jennifer looked at the hunger in Jon’s and T’s faces, and knew just what it was they wanted to do. She wanted the same thing, with Richie, not Jon, but had other plans for the afternoon.

“How much time do we have until the parade?” Jennifer asked Richie once they were back in their room.

“A couple of hours, why?” He was practically rubbing his hands together, thinking of what he could to do her in two hours.

“Can you drop me at the Sonesta? I want to visit with the girls, and we’ve got a project cooking.” She smiled an evil little grin.

Richie groaned. “Do I want to know about this?”

“You won’t be disappointed, I promise.”

Richie looked at her and smiled, pulling her in close. “What are you going to do?” He nibbled on her neck until she was shivering in his arms.

“Just decorating something,” she said, stepping back to pull a jet-black lace bustier from her bag. It had a deep vee between the underwire cups, and would fasten at the small of her back. The lace was a very loose, revealing weave, and Richie’s eyes bugged out of his head.

“You are going to cover the important bits, aren’t you?”

“Probably,” she answered with a wink.

Richie wrapped his arms around Jennifer’s waist. “Only probably? Then I don’t think you should go.”

Jennifer sighed. “Alright, I guess I just have to wear it like this then,” she said, putting on a moue.

“Oh hell no,” Richie said. “Not unless you put a sweatshirt on over it. You showed enough skin last night.”

“Then..." Jennifer prompted.

Richie pressed Jennifer up against the wall and kissed her thoroughly. “I guess you can go,” he said, “unless you’re thinking there’s something or someone else you’d rather spend your time doing.”

Jennifer groaned. “Baby, you know I would like nothing more than to spend all my time doing you,” she said on a sigh. “But damn, I’m a little sore after last night, truth be told, and need my strength for later.”

Richie grinned. “Wore you out did I?” Then his face got serious. “I didn’t hurt your knee, did I?”

“No,” Jennifer said, blushing. “That part is fine. Now, please, before you melt me to the spot here, let’s go.”

Richie drove them the short distance to the Royal Sonesta, and Jennifer got out of the car. “Thanks, babe,” she said. “I’ll see you in a little while, okay?”

“Sure thing. Have fun,” Richie said.

“Hey, that’s my line,” Jennifer laughed. “But I will, thanks. Love you.”

“You too.”

Jennifer gingerly thumped across the marble lobby, and took the elevator up to the third floor. Stopping outside Sam’s suite, she could hear feminine laughter, and soft music. Raising her cane, Jennifer pounded on the door. She heard screams from inside as she startled them, and had to fight back laughter.

“What the fuck – ” Sam started, until she saw who was outside her door. “What the hell was that for?”

“As a Goddess,” Jennifer patiently explained, “I need to make an entrance.” She thumped past Sam, who was now laughing at her.

The girls were all sitting around the huge dining table that dominated the main room. The table was covered in beads, sequins, glitter, feathers, and all manner of sparkly, shiny things. The smell of hot glue, daiquiris, and good wine permeated the air, and Jennifer sighed. She settled into a chair at the end of the table so she could put her foot up, and took her bustier out of the bag. Spreading it on the table, she joined in the fun, gluing and stitching and drinking and laughing with her friends.

When she was done, her bustier was fabulous. She stood and held it up to her. Two sprays of large red feathers were stitched to the bra cups, but sparse enough that some skin would show through. Red and gold beads, sequins, and feathers festooned the rest of it, and she smiled at her handiwork.

The girls all held theirs up too, and with a shared look, started to strip off their tops. They got fastened into their creations, and lined up in front of the mirror. “We look fucking fabulous!” Gail crowed.

“We sure do,” Cheryl said.

“Damn, I’m sorry I’m gonna miss the shirtless studs,” Jennifer lamented. A little of her tattoo was visible, and you weren’t quite sure if you were seeing flesh or not. It was just the look she was going for.

Stephanie threw a bag of feathers at Jen’s head. “Shut up,” she said. “You’re gonna be cozied up to Richie Sambora. I can’t seem to muster up any sympathy for you.”

“And don’t forget,” Gail added, “she attended a gala event with the two of them last night. Look.” She went to her laptop and signed on to Getty images. There was a shot from last night, Jennifer in the middle of two very gorgeous, very smug looking men.

“Whoa,” Jennifer said. “I didn’t think they’d be out already. Hey, I look pretty good next to them.” She told them all about her night; the people she met and dancing with Richie, and talking with Jon about the team. “It was a surreal night.”

The girls were all gushing over the pictures Gail was bringing up, and Jennifer pulled Sam aside. “Sam, can we use your suite to watch the parade?” She looked over Sam’s shoulder to make sure the others couldn’t hear. “T doesn’t want to go anywhere where she’d be photographed with Jon – not yet anyway – and this would be perfect.”

Sam slid her key from her back pocket and gave it to Jen. “Of course. I’ll make sure there are drinks for y’all and soda for Richie. Tell him he owes me a big kiss for that. With tongue. Soda at a celebration – what is he, a kid?”

Jennifer laughed. “I’ll tell him about the kiss, but don’t be surprised if he does it. And yeah, he is a big kid, but thanks for the soda. He’s doing so well, and I don’t want to derail him.”

Sam gave Jennifer a quick hug. “Don’t think anything of it,” she said. “You gonna wear that back?” She looked at her watch. “Richie should be downstairs soon.”

On cue, Jennifer’s phone rang – Beautiful Stranger. “That’s him.” She raised her voice. “Girls, my rock star awaits, so I’m gonna cut out. Have fun at the parade.”

“You sure you can’t join us?” This was from Cheryl.

“Nope, no can do, I have a date with a soon-to-be-nekkid guitarist,” she said evilly. “Poor me.”

“Fuck you,” the girls said as one, and Jennifer was smiling as she made her way back downstairs to Richie.

* * * * *

Sometime later, Jen laughed as she pulled a key card from her pocket. “Wait til you see Sam’s suite,” she said over her shoulder to Richie. Jon and T were taking their time walking from the elevator, their arms around each other’s waists.

“Awfully nice of your girlfriends to let us watch the parade from their balcony,” Richie said with a chuckle, his fingertips magnetically drawn to the graceful arch of her spine, left bare by the elaborate bustier she had decorated earlier with them. “You sure you don’t mind missing out on the shirtless studs?”

“Ya know, now that I think about it, I DO mind,” Jen whispered, pulling him inside the suite with an evil grin and lifting up the hem of his shirt.

“Whoa, down girl, don’t forget we have spectators.” Richie pressed a smiling kiss against her lips just as Jon and T walked in the suite.

“Where the hell was I when this place was available?” Jon asked, pulling his sunglasses off as he walked into the elaborate room. “And jeez, it’s like a freakin’ Mardi Gras explosion in here!” He walked over to the dining room table, large enough for eight and covered with beads, feathers, lace, fringe and glitter.

Richie picked up one of the glue guns nearby and held it up to Jon. “Easy there, podner.” Pressing the “trigger,” Richie yelped and jumped back when it began oozing hot glue onto the floor.

“That’s just perfect, Martha Stewart,” Jen said, smiling gratefully when T grabbed a hand towel and began blotting up the glue.

“Oh man, this is pretty cool,” Richie said, amused by his new toy and looking around evilly for something else to play with.

As the girls cleaned up Richie’s mess, Jon walked out onto the balcony. He’d been there before for Mardi Gras and Bourbon Street looked quiet in comparison, but he knew once the parade started winding its way up from Canal Street, that would change.

Unaware that Richie had just smugly glued a hot pink feather to his ass, Jon leaned over the rail and peered down into the street. He could just barely hear the sounds of the brass and drum line a few blocks away. Grateful that they would be able to watch without being “observed,” he turned and walked back in the suite, noticing several bottles of wine and champagne chilling in an enormous silver tub. The note on the table read, “Thought y’all might enjoy some refreshments while watching all the fun. There’s a box of beads on the balcony with your name on it. Save the long silver ones for me. XOX, Sam”

“I like this girl already,” Jon chuckled, pulling a bottle of Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio from the tub. “Babe, you want some?”

“Oh hey, T, Sam left us some daiquiris in the fridge since she knew I don’t like wine,” Jen called from the balcony. She had already chosen a seat in the corner and Richie had helped her prop her leg up on a nearby side table. They were combing through the box of beads, choosing which they wanted to wear and which they wanted to throw.

T accepted a glass of wine from Jon with a smile and went to the fridge. “Holy SHIT, this girl knows how to throw a party,” she exclaimed, pulling out three gallon jugs of daiquiris. “You want white Russian, strawberry, or something called DOA?”

Richie smiled. “Is there anything else in there?”

Jon came back with a can of Pepsi. “Here ya go, bro,” he said.

Richie took a long, satisfying swig, then belched. “Damn, Jen, Sam rocks.”

“Yeah, I know. She said you better be laying some tongue on her for laying in some soda for you,” Jen grinned, rolling her eyes. She knew Sam was all talk.

Richie looked momentarily shocked. “She would piss her pants if I did that.”

“Why, cause she’d be afraid Jen would beat the crap out of her?” T asked with a smile, handing Richie a large plastic cup full of a mixture that was almost entirely grain alcohol.

“Y’all just don’t understand Sam’s humor,” Jen replied, blinking her lashes and affecting the Southern accent of her friend. “She’d be the one beating the crap out of Richie. Don’t forget, she’s a happily married woman.”

“No such thing,” Jon laughed, already pouring a second glass of wine. “We could change her mind, right Rich?”

“Like hell,” T chuckled, sliding her hand inside Jon’s back pocket and pulling him possessively against her.

Just then the marching band appeared on the next block and the foursome eagerly leaned forward. The spectacle they saw was amazing – throngs of people were partying behind the band, waving brightly covered handkerchiefs and twirling umbrellas in the air. Clearly, they weren’t all Soul fans, the “second line” picking up random bystanders as they passed to dance, drink, and “laissez les bon temps rouler.”

“So when do I get to check out all these girls I’ve been chatting with on your board, sweetheart?” Jon asked with an amused chuckle.

T glanced at Jen. “Do you see them yet?”

Sipping happily on her strawberry daiquiri, Jen tilted her head back and gazed at Richie with a wide grin. “Don’t worry, you’ll know them when you see them.”

“Oh yeah,” Richie said with conviction. “That’s for damn sure.”

The second line passed and the foursome threw giant armloads of beads to the crowd, as everyone on all the other balconies materialized to do the same.

The parade was coming to an end and T and Jon sent a perplexed look toward Richie and Jen. “Did we miss them?”

Richie leaned forward in his chair and looked down. Shaking his head with a giant belly laugh, he nudged Jen’s good knee. “Nope. They’re right there.”

Jon and T peered over the rail. Directly below them were Cheryl, Gail and Steph. Cheryl was wearing a royal blue bustier that perfectly complemented her fair coloring, decorated with blue and orange beads and feathers and screaming “Go SOUL!!!” to the onlookers. Gail, meanwhile had a gorgeous black bustier trimmed with silver and purple, walking as regally as the queen of England and waving to her admirers. Stephanie sipped a daiquiri and smiled, looking resplendent in a red bustier with gold and black beads and feathers.

Wrapping his arms around T, Jon playfully nibbled her ear. “Damn, baby, why didn’t you tell me your friends are so hot. I would have played with them a lot more on that board.”

Ignoring him, T looked beyond the trio, murmuring, “But where’s Sam?”

Richie leaned forward and pointed. “That’s her right there.” Richie turned to Jen. “Baby, I think we know what she did with your studs.”

Below their balcony, six stunning young men, each no more than 21 and wearing painted-on white jeans and nothing else, were marching in lock step and carrying a platform bearing a large cushion where Sam was reclined wearing blue jeans, silver heels, and a purple bustier, festooned with green and gold beads and gigantic purple ostrich feathers soaring over her head. A sequined eye mask with long feathers fanning out from the sides completed the look -- every bit the “queen of New Orleans.”

Pouring herself another glass of wine from the bottle next to her, Sam winked and offered the foursome a silent toast, with a special wave for T.

Note that this was a collaboration among me, T, and FictionMistress

Arena Bowl Weekend: Friday

2009-08-08T00:57:00.000-04:00

Stephanie and Jennifer were at Logan at 7:30; they were taking no chances at being late. Richie had arranged for a driver in an SUV to pick them up at Jennifer's house. Another driver would take Jennifer back home on Monday. The driver took them directly to the private plane terminal, where they went through a modified security process and were checked in. The girls' baggage was whisked away, presumably to be put on the plane.

Afterwards, an attendant led them to a cluster of leather sofas and invited them to sit, bringing them glasses of icy cold water, and Jennifer took the opportunity to pop her Valium - just half this time. By 7:50, the girls were getting antsy, and nearly leapt from the couch when they saw the pilot and co-pilot approaching.

Both men had the arrogant swagger that was the stereotype for pilots, and Stephanie and Jennifer were giggling behind their hands. With their aviator sunglasses and crew cuts, they looked like extras from Top Gun. The pilots greeted the women, smirking at their enthusiasm.

"First time in a private plane?" the pilot asked with a hint of ridicule in his voice.

"One this small," Jennifer answered, feeling prickly at his attitude. "What is this, a Gulf IV?" The pilot nodded. "Huh, I'm used to the jumbo Boeing," she said. "That's what we usually take when we travel abroad, the bedrooms come in handy when we travel to Bangalore, but I guess domestically, the G-4 is alright." The pilot was looking agog at her. "Shall we?" Jennifer asked, and looped arms with Stephanie.

The pilots led the two women out to the tarmac. There, a gorgeous plane, painted jet-glow white with gold, gray and blue stripes, awaited. Jennifer watched as their baggage was loaded, and a set of stairs was wheeled into place. Noses held high, the girls slowly ascended the stairs into the cabin of the plane.

The plane had two passenger cabins separated by a pocket door. The forward cabin had four swiveling leather chairs, a four-cushion couch, and a single stationary forward facing chair, in the event there was someone who preferred the traditional flying position. The aft cabin had two single leather chairs and a four-cushion couch. All the chairs throughout the plane were done in beige leather, the couches in chocolate brown leather. The cabin also had beige carpet and dark woodwork. "This is gorgeous!" Stephanie said, as they made their way into the forward cabin. Jennifer gimped to the couch and strapped herself in.

"This is where I'm staying the whole trip," she said, glad to be sitting again. She had to agree with Stephanie. Richie done good. She pulled out her blackberry, and called Rich, but got his voicemail. After the beep, she said, "Not sure where you are, baby, but the plane is gorgeous. We're strapping ourselves in now, and should hit Jersey in a little more than an hour, give or take. Talk to you then. Love you, bye."

An attendant came from the aft cabin, startling the girls. "Ladies, I'm Jerry, and will be taking care of you throughout the flight. We have a fully stocked galley in the aft cabin, so anything you need, within reason of course, we should be able to accommodate. There's a full lav back there as well. Can I get you something to drink?"

The girls settled on Diet Coke, and once they had their drinks, settled in to chat. The pilot announced they were ready to take off, and Jennifer felt the effects of her Valium. "Right on time," she said, as the plane taxied down the runway.

About an hour later, they were in New Jersey. Jennifer and Stephanie looked out the porthole windows and saw two figures standing outside a building, waving wildly. The two girls in the plane had wide smiles and waited anxiously for the plane to stop. Once it did, the two women outside tore up the tarmac, and flew up the stairs, bursting into the cabin. After a round of hugs and kisses, and exclamations over Jennifer's brace, they settled in with their own drinks, and took off for Louisiana.

Once airborne, Jennifer called Richie again, again getting his voicemail. "Baby, we're in Jersey, just taken off. We've got everyone here, and we should be hitting the ground again - ugh, I hate that expression by the way - in about three hours. See you then! Love you, bye."

A little less than three hours later, they were on the ground in New Orleans. The four women descended the stairs of the plane to find a Humvee limo waiting for them. Jennifer smiled. Richie knew she couldn't get into a low-slung car, and this touched her heart that he thought to do this. The driver waved to the girls and opened the back door, and Richie came out. "Girls!" he called, waving to them.

"Richie!" they all squealed at once, and the three who were able, ran to give him hugs and kisses and to thank him for the terrific plane, and the gorgeous car.

"HEY!" Jennifer shouted. "What about me?"

Richie smiled and strode to Jennifer's side, kissing her deeply. "Welcome to New Orleans," he said. "I'm so glad you came. How are you? Flight okay?"

"Yep, fine," Jennifer agreed. "Only took half a pill, so I'm okay. I'd really like to get to the hotel though; I need a little nap before the thing tonight."

Richie led her back to the car, and helped her get into it. They took off for downtown, dropping the others off at the Royal Sonesta before heading to their hotel. Richie took Jennifer's bags, and brought them up to their suite. Jennifer and Richie unpacked her things, and Richie could see Jennifer was fighting sleep.

"Go take a nap, baby," Richie said, kissing her tenderly.

"Nap with me," Jennifer said sleepily.

Richie helped Jennifer off with her clothes, wincing at the dark blue brace marring the perfect lines of her body. He shucked his own clothes, and helped her slide into bed. He went to the other side and slid in alongside her. After setting an alarm for 4pm, he wrapped her in his arms, and the pair fell asleep. When the alarm went off a couple hours later, Jennifer was disoriented. She sat up and looked around for the alarm, and chuckled when Richie's arm flapped out from under the sheets and found it with unerring accuracy, smacking it firmly. "I think you killed it, baby," she said.

"Good," Richie said grumpily. "I'll order coffee," he said, "and Diet Coke."

"I'll go get the shower started," Jennifer said, hobbling to the bathroom. She was touched to see there was a walk-in shower, so she wouldn't have to climb over anything to get in and out of it. There were grab bars in there, and a shower seat with a long plastic board for her leg, so it would stay straight. Smiling at Richie's thoughtfulness and thoroughness, she adjusted the water, un-velcroed her brace, and caned into the shower. She sat, keeping her leg on the board, and washed the best she could. The hand-held shower nozzle helped and she was nearly done when Richie came into the bathroom stark naked, carrying a mug of coffee and a can of soda, both of which he set on the countertop.

Richie came into the shower and wordlessly took the nozzle from Jennifer's hand, and ran it over his body. Jennifer lathered up the soap and washed what she could reach; pulling him forward by the hips so she could reach more. Soon, her attentions got the better of him, and his cock started to rise. Jennifer chuckled, and helped it, rubbing it with a soapy hand, her palm slipping and sliding across his skin. When he was fully aroused, Jennifer reached for the showerhead, and gently rinsed the soap from him. Richie grabbed onto the walls' helper bars, and groaned when Jennifer took him in her mouth. She sucked and pulled on him roughly, and in minutes, he was groaning her name, begging for release. Jennifer squeezed his balls lightly, and smacked his ass, and her name was a breath on his lips as she brought him off.

Richie slumped against the wall, and caught his breath, then knelt in front of Jennifer and gathered her in close to his chest. He kissed her neck, and down to her breasts. Jennifer put a finger under his chin and raised his head. "Later, baby," she said. "I need the time to get ready for tonight."

"But-" Richie started to protest, but Jennifer shushed him.

"Baby, that was so you don't have a raging hard on all night once you see me in my dress," she winked. Richie laughed loudly, his barks echoing off the tiled walls of the shower. They finished up and turned off the water. Richie helped dry Jennifer's leg and carefully wrapped the brace around it, securing it as the Italian kid had shown them. After helping her to her feet, Jennifer wrapped a towel around her head, and she went to get dressed while Richie dried his hair.

Jennifer slid into her panties and strapped on a pair of flat sandals. Walking to the closet, she pulled out her dress; an ankle-length sheath of burgundy silk with a deep vee halter front and no back. She slipped it over her head, and adjusted it in the mirror. Richie came from the bathroom, saying, "All yours baby - holy shit." He had seen the back of Jennifer's dress, or lack of. Jennifer turned around, showing the front. The deep vee ended nearly at her navel. "Are you trying to kill me?" Richie asked.

Jennifer smiled. "Nope, just want to make you proud to have me on your arm, and I think this dress just about does it."

"Darlin', I'd be proud to have you on my arm no matter what you were wearing." Richie crossed the room to kiss her.

"You're sweet. Now outta my way, I need to go do my hair and war paint."

Jennifer had just disappeared into the bathroom when there was a knock on the door. Richie opened it and there was Jon, looking like someone had just kicked his favorite dog. "Man, you look like shit," Richie said. "What the hell happened?" He considered his friend for a moment.

"You're bummed because your girl couldn't come with you aren't you?"

Jon checked his friend's face for signs of amusement or ridicule, but didn't see any. "Yeah, I am," he admitted.

"Well, then it's a good thing mine is dressed up enough to make even you notice," Richie laughed. "If she doesn't cheer you up a little, then there's something seriously wrong with you." The men had coffee and talked about the game on Sunday for a little while. Then the bathroom door opened.

Richie stood instinctively, and Jon, chuckling, followed suit. "Ready or not," Jennifer called, "here I come!" She limped out and was surprised to find Jon in their suite. He was dressed in a jet-black suit, with a white Oxford shirt underneath. The first few buttons of the shirt were undone, and a good amount of chest was showing. Nestled in his chest hair was a pewter cross on a leather thong. "Good evening, Jon," she said. "You look great."

"Ditto," Jon said, looking at Jennifer, and missing Tiff even more.

"What about me?" Richie complained.

Jennifer and Jon said to him, at the same time, "You look like shit," then burst out laughing. Jennifer turned to Richie. "You know I'm kidding, baby," she said, and went to him and kissed him lightly. "You look fantastic." Richie's suit fit him perfectly, and his shirt was unbuttoned nearly to the waist. He was sans necklaces tonight, and Jennifer was salivating at the sight of all that tanned skin.

"So do you," Richie replied. Her makeup was light and flawless, and her hair fell in golden waves down her back. "Where's your cane?"

"There's a special one in the closet, just for this weekend" Jennifer said, laughing. Jon was closer, so he went into the closet and laughed again. There was an old-fashioned walking stick with a gold tiger's head as a handle. Jennifer had wound a black ribbon around its throat and mouth, and it looked like it was being strangled. It was the closest to a Sabercat that she could find.

He handed Jennifer her cane. "Nice," he said, smiling.

"Gotta show support for my team," she said with a wink.

The three of them went down the elevator to the lobby, one man on either side of her. Richie went to grab her hand, but it was already fastened to the handrail in the elevator car. A short minute later they were crossing the marble floor of the hotel. As they exited the lobby, the doorman opened the rear door of the Humvee limo Richie had kept. He handed Jennifer in, then climbed in himself to sit next to her. Jon climbed in too, and sat across from them.

The trip to the Superdome was short, and Jennifer was getting more and more excited the closer they got. Richie had briefed her on what to do and what not to do with the press. Basically, she should just smile and wave, and not answer any of their questions, no matter how impertinent they may be. When they pulled up, Jennifer could see a literal red carpet and rope barriers to keep people back. When the back door opened, there was an explosion of flash bulb light and a cacophony of shouts, and they didn't even know who was in the car yet.

Jon left first, stopping to flash a fake smile and have his picture taken. He strolled up the red carpet like he didn't have a care in the world. When he got to the end, he turned to watch his friend get out of the car. The flash bulbs exploded again, and he smiled and leaned into the car. "Ready?" he asked. Jennifer just nodded. She scooted to the end of the seat, and Richie helped her out, then reached back in for her cane.

With as much dignity as she could muster, she walked slowly by Richie's side. There were questions being shouted at them, about who she was and how'd she get hurt and was she Richie's girlfriend. Jennifer's heart was pounding, but she kept a happy smile on her face, which was not hard to do, and kept her hand on Richie's arm. When they stopped for photos, she put the cane behind her and leaned into Richie for support.

When they got to the doors and Jon, they turned for more photos, keeping Jennifer in the middle. Then she stepped aside, and let the two of them have their shots taken. When they were all done, Richie smiled. "You did real good, darlin'," he said, kissing her cheek. "Let's go."

The three of them made their way inside and found their table. They were sitting with some of the other owners and players and their dates at a large round table. Richie got her settled and introduced her to the others at the table. "Baby," he said, hesitatingly.

"Go," she said, flapping a hand at him. "Mingle. I'll be fine. Just don't forget where you put me."

After the initial schmoozing, Richie and Jon came back to the table. Jennifer found herself sitting between them during dinner, and had an up-close look at the sadness in Jon's eyes. When the awards had been given out, Jennifer stood and applauded with the others when the owners and team captains went to get their trophies. When the music started, Richie asked Jennifer to dance she looked sideways at Jon, and shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. "I think I'd better not."

Jon looked at her, touched by her thoughtfulness. "Jennifer, it's alright. Go dance with Rich, just be careful."

She stood, and lightly kissed his cheek. "Thanks," she said. "We'll be back in a few minutes."

As Jon watched them ease onto the dance floor and move slowly together, his thoughts turned once again to Tiffany and he wondered what she was doing at that moment. He glanced at his watch. She'd still be at the station, taking calls for the request show she did on Fridays.

His mind drifted off to last Friday night. He could see her clearly in his mind, wearing those jeans worn smooth from many washings that clung to every curve. She'd kicked off her sandals and the strings from the frayed hem of the jeans hung down on the tanned tops of her feet drawing the eye down to the flash of gold on the middle toe of her left foot. When he'd seen the Slippery t-shirt, he'd asked if it was vintage, and she'd just raised an eyebrow and asked, "Whaddya think?" It was certainly well worn, with a few holes here and there. Probably was. Her long honey colored hair hung down her back.

He'd been sitting across the counter from her while she stood behind the microphone. She had never been still. She'd danced to the music, pushing buttons every so often to answer the phone. The female callers acted like Tiff was their best friend. Guys had flirted with her, and she'd flirted back. He had bristled with jealousy until she'd put the phone lines on hold and come around the counter climbed up in his lap, kissing him until he'd been breathless.

Damn.

Jon shook his head to clear the lust. He really needed to hear her voice. Looking out over the dance floor, he spotted Richie's tall form carefully leading Jennifer through the steps and around the floor. They'd be out there at least a few more minutes. Quickly making a decision, he stood up and crossed the room with a purposeful stride. He'd been to so many of these things, he knew which areas to avoid. Easily, he found a door leading out to a patio for the smokers to indulge.

She answered before the first ring was done. "Hold on," she whispered quickly. He could hear her talking to a listener on the phone. He heard her call him Gary. Wait. Wasn't that the guy that kept telling her that he loved her last week? Jon made a mental note to ask her about the guy. She really didn't need to be dealing with a deranged stalker right now.

"Hey baby," she said when she picked the phone back up. "How's the party going?" She knew he was at the gala; she'd just looked at the clock and thought about what he was doing.

"It sucks, baby," he answered.

She loved it when he called her baby. She'd already learned that his throw-away endearment was doll. He called every strange woman 'doll'. The way his voice dropped just a bit when he said 'baby' made her feel all warm inside, but the way he ended the word with just a whisper on the y made her wet.

"What's wrong?" she asked, putting the request lines on hold.

"You're not here," he answered.

"I'm sorry, baby," she apologized, "but I'll be there in the morning."

"11:05 is just barely 'morning'," he pointed out.

"Would you rather I fly out tonight?"

"Yeah," he said excitedly, "could ya?"

"No," she answered, laughing slightly, "remember? There wasn't a seat on the only flight that leaves after I get off work."

"I'll charter you something."

"No you won't. Quit being an impatient rock star," she teased. "I'll be there in the morning."

"I miss you," he said softly.

"I miss you, too."

Quickly, Jon looked around him. Seeing he was alone, he lowered his voice and said huskily, "I wanna be inside you. I wanna make you scream my name and come apart in my arms. I wanna taste your sweetness until nothing could get the taste outta my mouth."

Her silence was telling, and he just smirked to himself.

"You had me at 'I wanna be inside you'," she whispered hoarsely. "How am I supposed to work now?"

"You're not," he answered, smiling. "You're supposed to agree to fly out tonight."

Tiffany was silent for several seconds processing it all. If she let him get away with this, he'd always be trying to get her to play hookie to do whatever he wanted, and he'd always think that what he did was more important than her job.

"Jon, I can't. I have to finish the request show. I'll see you in the morning."

Jon sighed. He knew he'd been unreasonable; he just needed her too damn bad. "Okay, baby. I'll see you in the morning. Hey, did you remember to do what I asked you to do?"

"You mean posting on the board saying I wasn't coming to the game?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Yes I did. You never did explain why you wanted me to do that."

"Richie told me that several of the women from the board are coming to the game and going to be hanging out with Hath. He wanted to warn me because if they knew you were coming they'd wanna meet you, and once they'd met you, if they saw photos of the two of us or anything, they'd know I was 'Billy'."

"Oh," she breathed. As much as she'd like to meet some of the girls from her board, she didn't want to out Jon either. "I get it."

"Baby, I gotta get back," he said regretfully. "I love you."

"Good night," she answered. "I'll see you in the morning."

"You better," he told her. "Dream about me," he ordered gently.

"Of course."

Note that the Jon/Tiff parts were written by T