One Hundred Twenty-Three

Even as his pupils dilated with desire, his body language was such that she knew he was going to refuse.  She may be crazy for demanding it right here and now, but after what transpired in the dining room, she was feeling a little crazy.  All this emotion was running through her, and she was going to explode if she didn’t let it all out some way.  Killing her mother was probably out of the question, so Allegra pushed him to have sex in the middle of Dot’s kitchen.

Her hands reached for his belt, nimbly unbuckling it before he could stop her.

“Sunshine,” Richie cautioned, trying to capture her wandering hand.  “This isn’t a good idea.  Everybody’s worried about you, and it’s hard telling who’s about to come barging in here.”

“Let them,” she declared recklessly, plucking at the button closure on his dark slacks, the two ends of his belt hanging freely.  “I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore.  It’s my life.”

She mentally snorted at herself, having stooped to quoting Bon Jovi song titles.  Hell, if she was going to go down that road, she should’ve told her mother to Have a Nice Day, complete with Richie’s brand of sign language.

“It is your life, but it’s mine too, and I’m way too old to have my mother walking in on me.”

The teeth in his zipper were steadily being pried apart, her IN-sistence overriding his RE-sistance.  He was half hard already.  It wasn’t like he didn’t want her.

“Stop Allegra,” he commanded softly, corralling her errant hands before they could inflict any more ‘damage’.  Captured in his grip, he stepped backward away from her, creating an intolerable distance between them. 

She felt herself go up in an inferno of fury.  The racing of her heart was more intense than she’d ever experienced before.  The staccato rhythm beating in her chest pushed itself out through her limbs with an unharnessed energy, and she was sure she would come out of her skin at any moment. 

Jerking her hands free, she thumped him in the shoulder.  “You’ve fucked a thousand women at the drop of a hat.  What’s the matter?  I’m not good enough?”

His lips thinned in displeasure.  The wrath that he thought had died down was now being redirected, and she was spoiling for another fight.  Well, he wasn’t giving it to her.  She was more than a mindless screw and had been since the beginning.  “You’re too good for that, and you damn well know it.”

“I’m not!” she contradicted, engaging in a full body press and forcing him back against the counter.  “You all need to stop acting like I’m too good for the life I’ve chosen.  For God’s sake, I’m just a woman, not a damn saint!  And right now I’m a woman who wants her boyfriend to fuck her.”

Blood surged to his groin, and he cursed himself.   The rosy flush in her cheeks, the electricity crackling in her eyes and the heat in her words spoke an entirely different kind of passion to his libido.  He could never treat her the way she was asking – couldn’t live with himself if he did.  But he could fake it enough that she wouldn’t know the difference.

Richie’s hand lifted up to twine in the tangle of hair she’d left free for the evening.  The strands wrapped themselves around his wrist and he yanked lightly, tipping her head back to expose her throat.

“Is that what you want?  To be fucked?” he growled into her ear, his cock twitching at the breathy moan that escaped her.  “Be very sure of your answer, little girl.”

Insistent fingers slipped themselves in his open fly, freeing his near painful erection.  “Let’s see if you still think I’m a little girl in five minutes,” she whispered hoarsely, dropping to her knees before him.

Watching her wet, pink tongue dart out to race across her bottom lip, Richie’s knees nearly buckled.  He wouldn’t survive two minutes, let alone five.  She’d made him all but forget where they were, but the footsteps in the hallway were kind enough to jostle his memory.

“Get up,” he commanded, hoisting her to her feet with one strong pull under her arms. “That’s not how you get fucked, baby.”  Tucking himself back into his open fly with one hand, he encircled her wrists with the other, dragging her behind him, belt buckle bouncing off his right hip as he strode toward a closed door beyond the refrigerator.

“Where are we going?”  The breathless words did nothing for the precarious fit of his pants.

“The nearest goddamn room with a door so I can fuck this attitude out of you.”  Elbowing it open with a grunt, the door bounced off the shelves lining the walls and he pushed her ahead of him into the walk-in pantry, crowding close before shutting them off from whoever was entering the kitchen.

“Who-“

“Shhhh!”  His palm covered her mouth before she could utter another syllable.  Whether they had sex or not, he wasn’t in the mood to take shit over the painful boner he was currently sporting.  The quieter they were the less chance of discovery. 

He rolled his eyes. 

Unless Sophia needs sugar for the friggin’ coffee.

The voices finally came through the kitchen door, muted yet audible enough to clearly overhear the conversation. 

“Fuckin’ nice Sambora.  Organize this damn fiasco and leave me hangin’.”  Jon wasn’t a happy camper.

“He probably took her to the guest house,” Dot’s voice carried plainly to the pantry.  “And, honestly, I’m glad, because I’ve never seen her so angry.  She needed a serious intervention.”

“Intervention my ass,” he guffawed.  “He’s getting laid and I’m left entertaining his mother and daughter.”

“So what if he is?  How many times did he watch our kids so you could get laid when I came out on tour?”

His answer wasn’t discernible as husband and wife apparently left the kitchen for parts unknown.

Richie had all but forgotten Ava and his mother in the minutes since he’d been left alone in the kitchen with Allegra.  His eyes locked in on hers the instant he felt a wet tongue swipe against his palm.  Ava and Joan left his mind as quickly as the blood left his big head to move south.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Squirming free of his grasp, she irreverently informed him, “Finding something better to do with my mouth.  You already vetoed my first choice.”

“Dammit, you’re determined to do this, aren’t you?”

At his continued protests, the first hint of insecurity passed through her eyes, but was readily swept away by exasperation.

“What’s the matter?  Are you too old to get it up without a comfortable bed?” she taunted, pulling out all the stops.  She heard herself being a bitch, but she needed this, and he wasn’t cooperating.

Richie’s nostrils flared and, as expected, she hit pay dirt by questioning his virility.  He was very proud of his ability to keep up with his libido – rightly so, in Allegra’s book.  Not once had there been any hint of a performance issue, and as far as she knew, there was no chemical assistance.

“Old?”  He ground his hips into her, his erection pointedly stabbing into the soft part of her stomach.  “Does that feel like I’m too old to get it up?” he demanded, wrestling her free from the skin-tight jeans that stood in his way.  “Because if you want fucked, by God, I’m gonna fuck you until you scream.”

She sucked in a breath at the invisible steam that rose to blanket them in the tiny room.  All of the oxygen mysteriously evaporated, leaving her gasping for fresh air.

My God, he’s sexy when he loses control.

That was about all the time she had to think before her jeans and panties were down around her ankles, and he was hoisting one knee up to his hip, having already shoved his own pants down around his thighs.

My God, she’s beautiful when she takes control.

Lips crashed together in a punishing kiss, although it was uncertain who was being punished, and Richie pushed the pool of fabric from her ankle so that she could hook it in the small of his back.  Dexterous fingers found her wet, open and ready and he groaned into her mouth.

A millisecond of separation, and one plunge filled her so full that the air was pushed from her lungs.  “Unngggh!”

“Hold on for the ride of your life,” he gasped, marveling at the way her hot sheath set him on fire.  Hips began to lurch with a mind of their own as the satiny slide of her sex consumed him. 

A harsh grip held her hips still as he rammed into her welcoming body with all emotion he’d been forced to bottle up tonight.  Each slam of his pelvis, bounced her against the shelves and back into his arms. 

“Oh God yes, fuuuuck me,” she panted, both legs now wrapped around him giving as good as she got,  her arms twined around his neck, fingers buried in his hair.  The words no longer sounded strange coming from her lips – just sexy as hell.  “Harder!”

Sweat had begun to trickle down his face, and their combined heat was damn near an inferno, but he gave her what she asked for, pounding into her with all the intensity of a jackhammer.  God if it didn’t feel amazing!

The shelves began to rattle with the continued impact and boxes of food items tumbled to the floor around them unnoticed.  The thumping cadence set the soundtrack for what was shaping up to be one of the most intense orgasms of his life. 

But she wasn’t there yet, and dammit if he was going without her.

His thick thumb slipped in between their jolting bodies, exploring the slippery folds while managing to keep the momentum they’d set.  Gliding up and down along the sweet, dewy valley, he finally hit upon the treasure he’d been seeking and with her pleasure his sole focus, he circled the stiffened bundle of nerves gently at first, gradually increasing in pressure and tempo as her muffled grunts of pleasure intensified.

“Nnnggghhh!  Yessss!  Close…  So close…” 

A few more strategic swipes against the fleshy bump and even white teeth clamped down on his neck with a strangled cry, inflicting a sharp pain/pleasure that toppled Richie precariously close to the edge.  One… two more drives home and he was filling her, her scream of release stifled in his shoulder and her contracting muscles intensifying his orgasm to top-ten status.

Richie buried his face in the dark cloud of hair that surrounded her, arms clamping her firmly to his body while she shuddered in his embrace, sucking air in great swallows, shoulders heaving. 

What, at first, seemed like aftershocks quickly pierced the blissful fog that enshrouded his mind as sobs being ripped from her.  Richie tried to pull free and see her face, but had to take the dampening of his shirt as proof of her tears, because she clung to his neck with the tenacity of a terrified child.

The anger and accompanying adrenaline had been drained, leaving in its wake a fragile and emotionally fraught woman.

“Shhh, baby, it’s okay,” he breathed in her ear, rocking her against his chest and rubbing her back soothingly.  He couldn’t take the hurt away, but he could remind her that her life was more than that. “I love you, Sunshine.  I love both of you with all my heart.  It’s gonna be okay…”