Eleven

A wise woman (norwichliz) once (last night) said "Maybe we should remind them that authors really like comments..the more the better...nice to know someone out there is reading..& I'm not talking to myself."   


I'm just sayin'. Hope you guys enjoy this week's installment.  Thanks for reading and for your comments!!!!!

Only a cold-hearted bastard could refuse that pitiful plea.  Sighing in resignation, Richie lifted her body back to his and sat down on the side of the bed.  He settled Allegra into his lap, carefully avoiding contact any lingering evidence of his ‘attention’, and drew her into his chest.  Resting her head on his shoulder, she slipped a hand inside his shirt to touch his chest.    

No cousin boinking, he reminded himself, skin warming under her touch.  He wasn’t sure what was going through Allegra’s alcohol fogged mind as she began stroking idly.  Not knowing was probably in his best interest right now. 

Her inhibitions had gone down with the third glass of wine, and Allegra found herself drawn by the subtle fragrance of men’s cologne and soap.  Enticed, she inched even closer, burrowing her nose into his neck and inhaling the scent.  Anything that smelled that good must taste good too…  She gently ran her tongue along the tendon in his neck to find out. 

He went still with surprise before trying to escape her exploring mouth, which was hard to do without dumping her in the floor.  “Whatcha doin’ there Sunshine?”

“You taste as good as you smell,” she murmured, continuing to nuzzle the area where his neck and shoulder met.

Jesus fucking Christ!   What had he gotten himself into?  He tried to force his thoughts away from how sinfully good she felt against him.  Her unfettered breasts pressing into his chest made it that much harder – on more than one level.

Then, like a dash of cold water, Jon’s words came back to him “Jesus, who knew she was going to be sleeping with everybody on the fucking tour?”

He maneuvered her off his lap and onto the bed saying, “And you probably aren’t using the best judgment right now.  Why don’t you get some sleep before something happens that you’ll regret in the morning.”

Scooting back against the headboard, she pushed her toes under his thigh, scraping against the roughness of the denim.  “Would you regret it?”  she purred in what she believed to be a seductive drawl.

Richie Sambora, your mission – if you choose to accept it – is to evade the question.  He turned on his rockstar persona.  “Darlin’ I never regret time spent with a beautiful woman.  However, I would regret you not remembering it fondly.”

She snorted.  “What a bullshit answer!  Is that what you tell the ugly drunk women who hit on you?”

He laughed – a deep and sincere laugh.  He should have known better than to try and charm her.  It didn’t work the first time, and apparently nothing had changed.  Allegra wasn’t some star struck groupie.  She was a genuine woman, treating him like she would any other man.

 Interesting change of pace... 

He folded his right leg under him and shifted around to face her.  She made more room by pulling her knees up to her chest.  Not the best idea from Richie’s perspective.  He had a clear view of those pink cotton panties in the instant before she pulled the nightshirt down over her knees.  Averting his gaze to the picture hanging above the bed, he tried to remember what he was going to say.  Oh yeah, ugly drunken women.

“Sometimes,” he replied honestly.  “After a while, you learn to put a positive spin on things without being dishonest.  There’s no reason to piss off the fans when all they’re looking for is a story to tell to their friends.”

“Understandable,” Allegra acknowledged, crossing her arms over her chest.  “So are you going to give me a real answer now?”  She slid one foot forward, once again pushing under his thigh.

Grabbing her ankle, Richie stilled her foot before saying, “I’ll answer your question if you’ll answer one for me. “  He kept her ankle immobilized and thoughtfully studied the smooth leg that it stemmed from, waiting for her reply.  Sliding his thumb along the Achilles tendon, he discovered that her skin was as silky as it appeared.

“What do you want to know?” she asked hesitantly, tugging her foot from his grip.  Would he ask about her past?  Or about the circumstances that brought her here?  Or something stupid like her bra size? 

He shook his head.  “Nope.  That’s not how this works.  You have to agree first.”

Thankful for the sense of bravado that alcohol provided, she shrugged her shoulders.  “Okay, I’ll play.  What’s the question?”

“Well.  You mentioned the other morning that you don’t like my attitude.  I want to know what’s wrong with it.”

This again?  Men and their fragile egos.  Jeez.

Allegra scooted along the headboard toward the middle of the bed and patted the spot she had just vacated.  “Come sit next to me,” she invited, stretching out her legs and crossing them at the ankles.  After Richie complied, situating himself similarly, she said, “I told you then that it wasn’t my place to judge right or wrong.”

“Yeah, I remember.  You just don’t like it.  Well, nobody’s told me that since I was a teenager, so I’d like to hear why you don’t like it.”

Stifling a yawn, she told him, “It’s like you’re always trying to be ‘on’ and looking for someone else’s approval – especially Jon’s.  Every time you say something, you look around to gauge the reaction.  The only time I’ve seen you be real is with Ava – or when you’re talking about her.  Don’t you ever do anything just to please yourself?  Besides screw around, that is.”

That hurt more than it should have.  “Not so much anymore, but for a while it was all I did.  Pleasing myself that is – trying to feel good, at least.”

Her head lolled to the side, coming to rest on his shoulder.  “Mmm.”

Glancing down, he saw that her eyes were getting heavy.  “So why’d you get all boozed up tonight?  Surely a little pasta flambé didn’t throw you over the edge.”

“I knew the bitch would spill the story,” she mumbled, lips barely moving.

He laughed lightly and said, “Don’t be too hard on her.  Joker’s tenacious when he wants something.”

She shifted more of her weight toward him, trying to get comfy and her words began to slur together. “Suure defend her jus’ cuz hass big tits ‘n blonde h…”  Her sentence went unfinished as she drifted off to sleep.

Richie felt her become dead weight and repositioned himself more comfortably.  He didn’t want to disturb her just yet.  Easing his shoes off, he craned his neck to see her face.  Satisfied that she was asleep, he tilted his head back against the wall.    

“Just so you can’t say I didn’t keep up my end of the deal,” he whispered, “I’ll admit the chef is hot – and she definitely wanted me. Sounds like a winning combination, right?  Too bad I couldn’t get interested enough to do anything about it.  Then I turn up here to find you in a damn teddy bear t-shirt and suddenly I’ve got more interest than any loan shark in Jersey.  I don’t fucking understand why, but there it is.”  Closing his eyes, he finally answered her question.  “So no, I wouldn’t regret it.  Not for the reasons you think anyway.”

∞∞∞∞∞

A few hours later, Richie woke to a room filled with sunlight and a stiff neck.  Damn, I missed sunrise.  I bet Allegra was down there by herself this morning.  He groaned and reached to rub his hand over the offending muscles, when he became aware of the warm weight nestled against him.  And who the warm weight was. 

I’ve got to get out of here. 

Not wanting to wake her, he carefully eased his body away from hers and off the bed.  After stepping into his shoes and finger-combing his hair, he moved toward the door. 

His hand was on the knob when he paused, looking back to take in her relaxed features, tangled hair, and cheeks pink with sleep.  She seemed strangely innocent – even down to the teddy bear night shirt.  It was hardly the appearance of a vixen.  But Jon’s words were still etched in his mind.

What’s your story, Sunshine?

Allegra’s lips parted in a soft snore, and he smiled.  There’s plenty of time to figure it out, he thought, slipping out the door as noiselessly as possible.

It took Richie only seconds to reach his own door and fish the key card out of his pocket.  He was just swiping it through the reader when another door closed down the hall.  It wasn’t Allegra’s, because the sound had come from the opposite direction.  Turning, he found Jon ambling toward him.

After pushing the elevator call button, he greeted Richie with a slap on the shoulder and a knowing grin. “Just getting in, Sambora?  We saw you leaving with that little chef.  She must’ve been good to keep you all night.”

“Yeah, I’m just getting in.  Gonna grab a shower and some coffee.  Where you headed, Bro?”  Simple was best.  There was no need to offer unnecessary explanations of what had happened last night – with Lucy or Allegra.

“To meet Matty.”  He grimaced and fiddled with the sunglasses folded over the neck of his t-shirt.  “After the shit everybody gave me last night, I guess I’ll have to see if he can find some room for Allegra in fan club operations.”

At the time, Richie hadn’t expressed an opinion – hadn’t really had one TO express.  Finding her swimming in a wine bottle changed that, though. 

“If he can’t, she can be my PA,” he offered.

Jon was justifiably surprised, considering how adamant his friend had been when the suggestion was first made.  “That’s not what you said at dinner last night.” 

“Yeah, I know, but T’s right.  She needs something else.  If she wants to do the PA thing for a while, I can deal with it.”

He considered the guitarist, trying to decide whether or not to push for more of an explanation, when the elevator appeared.  No time right now.   “I’ll keep it in mind.  I gotta run.  Later, man.”

Richie watched the doors slide shut and released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.   

∞∞∞∞∞

Allegra groaned at the insistent knocking on the door.  It was just after noon and every hair on her head ached.  There was no way she could get up.  Whoever it was would just have to go away.

“Who is it?” she croaked as loudly as her dry throat would allow.  Why did she hurt so bad? 

“Room service.”

“Go ‘way!  I didn’t order any room service, I just woke up!”  She scooted down in the bed and rolled to her side.

“The order was placed by a Mr. Sambora, ma’am.” 

“His room is down the hall!”

The intruder was persistent.  “Yes ma’am, but he placed the order for this room.”

Why was Richie ordering her room service?  “Just a minute!”

Wincing as she sat up, bits and pieces of the night before came back to her. Bubbles.  Wine.  Telling Richie he had a sexy voice and being curled up in his lap.  Criminy…

She got her feet on the floor and stumbled toward the door, remembering to check the peephole before unlocking it for the waiter.  She motioned him in and he brought a tray laden with coffee, fresh fruit and toast.  “Where would you like this ma’am?”

Waving him toward the desk, she flopped herself down in the accompanying chair, sweeping the hair back off of her face.   He slipped unobtrusively out the door after receiving her thanks and a tip.

Allegra rubbed her temples in misery, overwhelmed with nausea, when she noticed the envelope on the tray.  Addressed to her, it evidently held more than paper because it wasn’t flat, but slightly bulging.  She opened the flap and carefully emptied the contents on the desk.  Four white pills skittered across the surface. 

After corralling them, she read the accompanying note.  “Take the aspirin, drink some coffee and get in the shower.  Then try and eat something.  You’ll feel better, I promise.  -Richie” 

What did she have to lose?  Surely after living this lifestyle for so long, he’d know what worked?  She poured a cup of coffee, added some cream, and swallowed the aspirin with an audible gulp.  Now for the shower…

A short time later, she was relieved to find out that he was right.  Pulling her hair up on top of her head wasn’t as excruciating as it would’ve been before following Dr. Richie’s orders. 

Under the hot spray of the shower, she’d tried to remember all of the events of the night before, but it was fuzzy at best.  Sliding her hand in Richie’s shirt and licking his neck was the last vivid memory she had.  The thought of it still caused her to tingle.  That was going to make it hard to look him in the eye today.

Frowning, Allegra realized that meant he’d been right twice now.  She did have regrets about last night, and as far as she knew, it had all been rated PG.   She intently searched her mind, but the last thing she could recall was Richie asking about his attitude.  After that, there was nothing.  Surely she would remember if anything went beyond PG – wouldn’t she?

The ringing of her cell phone startled her out of her reverie.  Allegra abruptly realized motor skills were  not her best friend when she tripped getting up from the bed, her foot tangled in the sheets.  The sensation of falling through the air lasted forever, followed by hands and knees hitting the floor with a thud.  Grunting in pain, she continued to move toward the phone, crawling over to the desk as quickly as she could.  Unfortunately, by the time she got her hand around it, the call had gone. 

I’m about to whine, she thought, rubbing her left knee with one hand and flipping open the phone with the other.

The missed call log showed Jon’s number.  Allegra was deciding if she wanted to call him back now or later when a text message appeared.

We need to talk.  Be @ sound check.  4pm. ~ JBJ

Yippy Skippy…