Chapter Two

Jen just stared after Mike, making the decision then and there to Visine his coffee later. She turned to Richie and smiled. “Sorry about Mike,” she said. “He’s a bit of an asshole.”

Richie laughed. “We all are at some point, darlin’,” he said. “So, we gonna do this or not?” he asked with a leer.

Jen blanched. “Uh, yeah, of course.” She raised the camera, and stared when she saw Richie coming toward her through the viewfinder.

“What are you doing?” he asked her softly.

“F-f-focusing my camera, so we can get this done,” Jen replied.

Richie’s eyes darkened. “That’s not what I want to get done,” he said. He could see Jen’s eyes turn from cornflower to midnight and smiled. “I see that we’re thinking the same thing,” he said gently.

“I’m not, I mean, well, shit --” Jen stammered and Richie didn’t say a word; he just took the camera gently from her hands, put it on the table, and framed her face. With both hands.

Jen looked down and started to laugh. Full on, belly laughter that she could not control. Tears streaming down her face she whispered, “Nice hat, Sambora,” and when he looked down and saw his Stetson hanging there, on its own, he burst out laughing too.

“Well shit, I can’t wear that hat ever again,” he said, removing the hat and tossing it behind him.

Jen gasped at the sight of him. She’d heard the rumors of course, and like all good fans, only really half believed them. But to see him in all his glory, for he really was glorious, was something else. He was tanned here, too, and she sighed.

“Thank God, darlin’,” Richie said, smirking. “For a moment there, I was getting worried. You were awful quiet there…”

She blushed and averted her eyes. “Sorry,” she said, part of her wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole, the other part wishing she could do that for Richie.

He turned her head back to him. “No need to be sorry, darlin’,” he said, as he leaned in to just lightly touch his lips to hers. Jen held perfectly still, still not quite believing his was happening.

“Darlin’?” Richie asked. “If you don’t want this, now is the time to say something.” He was looking into Jen’s shocked face. He smiled an endearing smile.

“Do that again,” Jen whispered.

Richie's smile widened. He reached for the ends of the scarf that was looped around Jen’s neck, and used them to pull her toward him. He framed her face and leaned to her in again, barely grazing her lips. This time, he gently turned her head, and trailed a feather-light path of kisses to her ear. He licked the shell of her ear before kissing down the side of her neck to nuzzle the crook between her neck and shoulder. Jen shivered, and let out a shaky sigh.

Slowly, tentatively, she covered Richie’s hands with her own, and traced a path down his solid forearms. The hair tickled her palms, and she sighed with pleasure when she reached his biceps. Squeezing gently, her fingertips lightly traced over his ink, and up to his neck. When Richie’s grip on her tightened slightly, she threaded her hands into his thick silky hair, and gently raised his head. When their eyes met, she smiled, and Richie pounced.

Crushing Jen to him, he slanted his mouth over hers and took. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and took more. One large hand splayed across her back, and the other cradled the back of her head, moving her slightly this way and that so his mouth could take full advantage. At Jen’s whimper of pleasure, he broke the kiss, and trailed hot, wet, open mouthed kisses down her neck. He didn’t stop at her t-shirt, and continued kissing down to her breast, dampening her shirt and bra as he sucked at her nipple.

“Too many clothes,” Richie muttered, as he grabbed the hem of her shirt. He lifted it up and off her in one smooth motion. He flicked open the front catch of her bra with a fingertip, and tore the scrap from her, groaning as her breasts tumbled free. He grinned at the sight of her iridescent blue scarf twisted around her neck and laying against her skin. He palmed her breasts, testing their weight, and rolled his thumbs across her nipples making Jen’s head drop back, and a groan escape her lips.

“You like that, darlin’?” Richie asked, smirking at her. He was almost painfully hard now, and wanted nothing more than to bury himself to the hilt in her, and stroke her slowly until she screamed.

“What gave it away,” she asked, looking at him with slightly unfocused eyes.

Richie smiled slowly and squeezed her nipples gently, making her groan again. “That noise right there, darlin’ Jen,” he answered.

The gentle pressure on those sensitive buttons was driving her insane. She enjoyed gentle loving, but was more a good old-fashioned fuck-me-hard kind of girl. Jen arched into Richie’s hands, silently begging him for more. Richie chuckled then looked into her eyes. He saw something there that was intriguing. Smirking, he reached for the ends of her scarf. He pulled, so it tightened around her neck just a little. He could see the pulse point at her throat quicken, and her eyes narrowed just a little in pleasure.

He tugged on the scarf again, and this time Jen leaned back just a little, so it tightened all the more. She loved playing games, and was surprised and thrilled that Richie looked like he wanted to play too. She smiled at Richie, and he smirked back just before giving the scarf a sharp jerk.

Jen gasped and she could feel her juices starting to flow. A man this powerful would surely be able to give her the kind of rough tumble she craved. He jerked again, and started to back up, silently commanding her to follow him. She lowered her hands to her sides, her eyes to the floor, and complied.

Richie’s heart was pounding. She was totally submitting to him, silently giving over control to him. It had been so long since he had a partner that would play those kinds of games with him.

He led her across the room. Behind the changing screen was a couch where he’d sat to take off his boots. He stopped Jen next to it, and unfastened her jeans. The rasping of the zipper matched that of her breathing, and by the time the denim pooled at her feet, Jen was sopping.

Richie latched his mouth to hers and their tongues met and twirled around each other. He traced his calloused fingertips lightly over Jen from armpits to waist, and smiled when she shivered. He did it again and again, all the while joined in a mind-numbing kiss. Unable to stand the anticipation any longer, Jen wrapped a hand around Richie’s cock. She sighed as its warm weight filled her hand, then gasped when she felt a sharp sting on her ass.

“Did I say you could do that?” he asked, mock anger in his voice.

Jen tried really hard not to smile. “I’m sorry,” she said, contritely.

“I’m sorry I had to slap you, but you have to learn the rules,” Richie said.

Jen looked at him attentively. “What are the rules?” she asked, and got herself another slap. She smiled and moaned. No slap. She got it. No words, just sounds. This was going to be fun.