Homecoming

~ by Hath, March 7, 2008

Richie was bone tired.

When he literally collapsed into the back of the waiting car, he thought he was going to pass out from the fatigue. It’d been long weeks since he’d been home. This leg of the tour was especially grueling, because they had changed the set around, and there was much more space for them to fill. He spent his nights running here and there, flirting with and winking and grinning at the nameless, faceless crowds of women who were winking and grinning and blowing kisses right back at him. It usually gave him a thrill, especially when he found someone looking up shyly at him that he could draw out with a wide smile or by tossing a pick at her.

The last few days, though? He was done. Not leave-the-brotherhood done, but done for now. They had a month off before heading back to Europe, and he was never so glad to say goodbye to his friends as he was tonight. He checked his watch and groaned. Belay that last. Last night.

Richie scrubbed his hands across his face and into his hair. Resting his head against the back of the seat of the plush Caddy, he closed his eyes. Just for a minute he thought, and dropped off to sleep.

Richie woke when the incline of the road changed. The gentle dip into his driveway was as familiar to him as his favorite guitar. He was home. Thanking the driver, he pulled his bags from the trunk and walked up the path to the front door. He let himself in, dropped his gear, and took a deep breath. He could smell the polish their cleaning service used on the entry-way table. Under that, he could smell her.

Her light, floral scent floated to him, and he inhaled deeply again. He had never smelled anything so good. Richie climbed the stairs wearily, wanting to spend the next two days in bed wrapped around his wife. The way he was feeling now, he didn’t even care if they slept or fucked; he just wanted to be with her in their bed.

Richie stepped into the bathroom, and showered quickly, washing the travel off of him. It helped a little with the tiredness, too. Towel slung around his waist, Richie brushed his teeth. With a big hand, he swiped some of the steam from the mirror, and leaned in to scrutinize his face. There were a few more lines and wrinkles than the last time he had an attack of introspection, but he figured he earned them. He was nearly fifty, for Christ’s sake, and living like he was thirty. Tonight he felt every one of those years.

He sighed and pushed open the bedroom door. When he took in the sight before him, his fatigue left him as surely as if he’d slept for a week. There she was. The woman whose scent had teased him downstairs. The woman who had warmed his bed for the last ten years. The woman he wanted to grow old and die with. The woman he wanted to wake up right now and make love to. Scratch that. He wanted to fuck her senseless.

She was cuddled with a body-length pillow on his side of the bed; something she did when he was on the road. He chuckled when he saw one end of the pillow stuffed into of his favorite t-shirts. Her cheek was resting on the t-shirt’s chest, and she had sprawled across it to grip the shoulder. He would bet if he pulled back the blankets, he’d find one slim leg bent at the hip and draped across the lower half of the pillow, the other flush alongside it – just the way she would sleep on him in a few hours.

The bedclothes had slipped from their customary position (tucked up under her chin) to reveal a creamy shoulder and long expanse of back. Jenna’s face, angelic in sleep, caught the faint moonlight streaming in through the skylight. Richie could see the faint crow’s feet at her eyes, earned by a lifetime of smiles, and longed to trace his finger over them. Her long auburn hair was loose and flowing out behind her, making her look like a fairy princess waiting for her knight in shining armor.

Jenna was one of those girls at a show that Richie had tried to win over with a smile. She had been with some friends in the fan pit, and he noticed her right away. The cropped fire-engine red tank top made her creamy white skin glow. It molded her full breasts, and ended a good two inches above her pierced navel. The tight blue jeans she wore rode low on her hips, and a silver chain circled her waist. It caught the light as she danced and sung along, and Richie was completely distracted.

Once she noticed him noticing her, she got all shy. She still sang and danced with her friends, but she wouldn’t really look at him; she’d just dart glances at him and look away. At first, he thought she was looking at Jon or David, but then he realized she was just not looking at him. When he tried to catch her eye, she’d blush and shift so he couldn’t. He kissed the pick he was using and flicked it at her, hitting her in the chest just above the scooped neck of her tank. His aim was impeccable; he’d done this a time or two over the years. She clutched at it before it could slide down her shirt, and her friends all grabbed at her hands, trying to get it from her. She stuffed into her front pocket, and waved shyly at him.

During the rest of the show, he smiled wide welcoming smiles at her, and appreciated her shy returned glances, sensing she wasn’t being a flirt, that she was genuinely shy. He laughed outright at her friends, who were very different. The girls she was with were all reaching for him and shouting dirty things. He couldn’t hear them, of course, but he could tell by the looks on their faces just what they were saying.

Richie chuckled at the memory of approaching her and her friends, while they were singing Born To Be My Baby. Funny how he remembered that.

In his haste to get closer to this quiet woman, to try to draw her out, he got a little too close and her friends had gotten a handful of him. She had been mortified at her friends’ boldness, and mouthed ‘sorry’ to him as he jumped back. Then she looked straight into his eyes, and smiled at him. She smiled and he was lost. For the rest of the show, he played more to her than anything else; so much so that Jon had called him on it during the break before the encore.

“Man, what are you doing?” Jon asked, as they stripped off their sweat-soaked shirts, toweled off, and pulled on new ones.

“What do you mean?” Richie finger-combed his hair while Jon got blown dry.

“You aren’t paying any attention to anyone but the fan pit,” he said irritably. Richie grinned sheepishly, and Jon caught it, and rolled his eyes. “Christ on a crutch, man, really?” They’d been friends for so long, that he didn’t have to wait for an answer. “Well, cut it out,” Jon said.

Before they went back on stage, Richie corralled one of the security staff, telling him to invite the woman in the red tank top with the shy smile to come backstage afterwards: her and her friends. The staffer did as he was bid, and as the women left the stage, they were pulled aside and brought backstage. Richie had come from his shower to find the girls looking around wildly, touching everything. He stood in the doorway for a full minute before saying, “Well hello there,” and making them all jump.

One of the Bold Bunch, as he’d come to call them later, strode right up to him. “What do you want with Jenna?” she demanded, eyes flashing indignantly. It wasn’t jealousy; he was very familiar with THAT look. This looked more like a mama bear protecting her cub.

“Darlin’, I just wanted to meet her,” he said, winking. “The rest is up to her.”

Jenna’s friend backed off, eyeing him suspiciously. “Alright. I’m Sandy, over there is Aimee and Paula, and you’ve seen Jenna,” she said. “Sorry, but we feel responsible for her,” she started.

“And while I appreciate that,” the woman in question cut in, “I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.” She walked up to Richie, and he was taken by her beauty. She held out a hand and he took it delicately. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “You were really very good.”

Richie laughed. “Why do you sound so surprised?” He hadn’t let go of her hand yet, and was hoping she wouldn’t try too hard to get it back.

Jenna chuckled and blushed, and had to tug on her hand a little to retrieve it. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m not really a fan,” she said quietly.

Richie gasped dramatically and clutched at his heart. “Say it isn’t true!” He laughed at her reaction. “Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” he said. “As long as you enjoyed yourself tonight, that’s all that matters.”

“I did thanks -- quite a bit actually.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I actually knew more songs than I thought I did,” she said, then grinned again – the same smile she gave him on the stage. “Guess I’m a bigger fan than I thought.”

“Why do you need protection from me?” he asked, looking at her friends who had all gathered behind her, and looked ready to snatch her away if he got too close.

“I don’t,” she said, giving her friends a pointed stare. “They just think I do because…” she stopped, and colored again.

“Because?” Richie prompted.

“Because you’re big and could hurt her if you smacked her around,” the blonde, Aimee, finished.

Aaah, that explained their protectiveness. Jenna must have been hurt before. “Now, why would I want to do that?” Richie asked. He was always amazed that people had pre-conceived notions of how rock stars live and act, and there wasn’t much you could do about it. It got annoying at times, like now for instance, but he’d learned there wasn’t anything you could do except to try to dissuade people of those notions.

“Why would any man batter a woman?” the redhead, Paula answered. “Because he can.”

“Well I wouldn’t,” he said, putting his hands up, “though I don’t expect you to take my word for it.” He opened the door to his dressing room and called out “Gerry!”

A tall, middle-aged man with a wiry frame came to the door. “What?” He clearly wasn’t impressed by Richie, which made the girls smile.

“Have I ever laid a hand on a woman in anything other than love or lust?”

Gerry burst out laughing. “Jesus, man, your mother would skin you alive if you ever even THOUGHT about doing that.” He got himself under control. “Ladies, I’ve been with the band since they were arrogant punks playing clubs that are long gone now. He’s never raised his hand to anyone but his brothers out there in anger.” He smiled. “And they usually just laugh at him. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.” He looked at Richie. “Can I go now? Jon’s squawking for me.”

Richie waved him away and looked at the girls. “Satisfied?”

Jenna nodded and looked at her friends, then stepped closer to him. She held out her hand again. “Jenna-Marie Elizabeth Jacobsen,” she said. “Wanna get a drink?”

The rest, as they say, was history.

Now, ten years later, standing in their bedroom, he was growing hard just at the sight of her. Jenna-Marie Elizabeth Jacobsen Sambora: quite a mouthful for such a small woman. She still had the navel piercing, though the belly chain went the way of the dodo long ago. And she still was shy around strangers, but never with him. It took her a while to warm up to the guys, and she’d actually bonded with Hugh faster than the others, but that was all water under the bridge now.

Richie slowly crept to the bed, dropping the towel into the hamper along the way. Little by little, he raised the edge of the covers so he could see her. He didn’t want to wake her, not yet. Jenna sighed at the cool air touching her bed-warmed, naked flesh, and stirred, but didn’t wake up. He was right; her leg was up over the pillow, giving him an enticing view of her tender, pink lips. He slid in alongside her and snuggled up close; his cock slid over her leg and pushed under the pillow she clutched. He swept her hair up to the top of her head, and pressed delicate kisses along her neck.

He knew the instant she woke up; he could hear the change in her breathing. “Hey baby,” he said to her, as he bit at her earlobe.

“Mmmm, hey yourself,” Jenna answered. “What time is it?”

“It’s late.” He chuckled. “Or early, depending on how you wanna look at it.” He punctuated his phrases with little licks and nibbles that had Jenna squirming against him.

“I missed you,” she said, angling her head so Richie could kiss the sensitive spot at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“I missed you, too.” Richie said, kissing her mouth when Jenna turned her head to look at him. “Let me show you how much,” he said.

Jenna sighed and lay her head back down as Richie’s fingers traced a light path down her spine for long minutes, making her shiver. When they traced the cleft of her ass, she sucked in a breath. When his fingers continued their journey to find her warm, wet core, she moaned. Gently, idly, Richie rubbed at her clit, barely grazing the hard little nub. Over and over, he would bring Jenna to the brink of oblivion only to stop and kiss her back or her cheek or to stroke her hip with a gentle hand. When she would relax and slump back against the pillow, he would start his teasing again, making her tense up and groan, and if she tried to move, to quicken or harden Richie’s touch, he would stop and kiss and stroke her back again.

Jenna could feel the tingling start deep in her core, and her body tensed just-so, and Richie could tell it wouldn’t be long now before she was screaming his name. He finally pressed into her. One finger, then a second slowly pushed their way past her too-tight muscles. “Aw, baby,” Richie said, kissing her back, “we need to get you loosened up.”

“Give it your best shot, rock star,” Jenna answered, chuckling.

Richie took that for the challenge it was meant to be, and quickly finished sliding his fingers home. Jenna let out a startled “oh!” then purred. Richie stroked his fingers slowly in and out of her, feeling her squeeze him as she got all worked up. He withdrew then, and ever so lightly stroked her clit. Jenna moaned, and her hips started undulating, begging for him to stroke her faster. Richie stopped altogether, and levered up on one arm to shove the pillow away. He gently turned Jenna onto her stomach, urged her up on to her knees, and spread them wide apart so her back was arched. Jenna’s head was still pillowed on her arms, and she looked at Richie with eyes glazed over with lust.

Richie rested his head on the small of her back, and set to filling her again, this time with three fingers. Jenna rocked back and forth on his hand, trying to deepen the penetration. “More,” she begged. Richie planted a kiss on her ass and complied, pushing his pinky in alongside the others. He could feel her juices flowing now, making his movements in her easier. Jenna rocked back harder onto Richie’s hand, her moans of frustration making Richie smile.

“What’s the matter, my love?” he said, lightly biting her ass.

“It’s not enough,” she answered on a whine.

Richie withdrew and turned Jenna onto her back. She reached for his iron-hard shaft, but Richie gently pushed her hand away and kissed her deeply. “Uh-uh, baby, I’m not done with you yet,” he growled, and Jenna purred.

Richie slid his fingers in again – all of them – and slowly stroked in and out of Jenna, until she was begging him for release. Jenna could feel him filling and stretching her, and still it wasn’t enough. The swipe of his thumb over her clit as he pumped her wasn’t enough. Richie bent his head to pull her nipple into his teeth and bit lightly, then he sucked it deep into his mouth. Jenna cried out and arched her back, but she wasn’t there yet. Richie knew she was so close to the edge she could taste it, and he loved it when he could leave her on the precipice like that. Jenna loved it too.

Now, though, he was almost painfully hard, and wanted to throw her over the edge so he could bury himself in her. He picked up the pace, moving faster in her, and was rewarded with a long, loud moan. “Oh, Go-o-o-o-od, Ri-i-i-i-ichie-e-e-e,” she sighed, thrashing her head back and forth on the pillow. Her hips were rising to meet his hand thrust for thrust. He smiled around the nipple he was sucking, and twisted his hand, turning his fingers inside her.

Jenna screamed and gripped the sheets, pulling them so hard they pulled loose from the bed. “YES!” she screamed. “THAT!” So Richie did it again. He slowly rotated his wrist and watched Jenna’s face. Her eyes flew open and her unfocused gaze rested on Richie, and he could see her pupils nearly fully dilated, making her hazel eyes black with passion.

“Stay with me, baby,” Richie whispered, licking at Jenna’s lips, and continuing the tortuous twisting motion. Jenna tried to focus on Riche, but couldn’t. Her unseeing eyes met his, and Richie smiled. “Stay with me or I’ll stop.”

“NO!” she called, and struggled to focus on Richie’s face. Slowly, he saw her coming back to him, and he smiled. She knew damned well he wouldn’t stop, but she loved this game as much as he did, and played it well. He kissed her deeply, his tongue matching the motions of his hand; swirling around her mouth and lapping up her moans and sighs.

Richie felt Jenna’s walls squeezing him so hard she nearly squeezed him out. Her breathing stopped for just a moment, and Richie smiled. A split second later, her guttural groan filled the room as she shattered into a million pieces and her walls pulsed around him. He didn’t stop, though, wanting her to be completely spent before he brought her up again.

Jenna’s cries of pleasure were music to Richie’s ears. He bent to capture her nipple again, and teased her until she begged him to stop. Richie smiled, and with a final long pull, stilled his mouth. His hand was still pumping into her gently, waiting for her to come back together. She started moaning again, and her hips moved against him, and he slid from her. Jenna arched when he pulled slowly from her body; her muscles already clenching back up.

Richie positioned himself between her legs, and lifted them to his shoulders and held her ankles. When Richie slid his cock into her, he groaned. She had tightened so much, it felt like he was pushing through her fist, and he loved it. When he was fully seated in her, he slid out almost all the way, and slammed home, making Jenna jump. She gripped the sheets again, then planted her hands on either side of her hips and rose her pelvis to meet Richie’s thrusts, grunting each time he slid into the hilt.

“Richie,” she begged, “please.”

“Please what, darlin’,” he drawled, as the exertion of holding back was nearly killing him.

“Please!” she begged again, her voice a plaintive cry. “Come with me,” she cried.

“Anything for you,” Richie said, and bent Jenna’s legs so her knees touched her shoulders, and pummeled her for all he was worth. Jenna’s eyes went wide, and Richie felt her squeeze him painfully tight and he exploded inside her, calling her name as she took all he had to give. He collapsed next to her, and drew her in close, kissing her thoroughly before settling her in by his side.

“Welcome, home, my love,” Jenna whispered, looking up at him as she snuggled up to him threw an arm around him. One slim toned leg slid over his to hook around his calf, and she sighed.

“Thank you, baby,” Richie said, and kissed her forehead. “I’m glad to be home.”

Jenna smiled and kissed Richie’s chest, lay her head over his heart, and closed her eyes.

So glad.