Seven

He walked into his hotel room and sprawled out on the couch. Fuck he was tired, screw that he was beyond tired. It seemed like there was a concert every day, even though realistically he knew there were brief spells in between. Shit none of them were young anymore and touring took a lot out of you, no matter the age. Yeah he loved touring, lived for it in a way. Nothing like the charge of getting up there and having thousands roar their approval out. It was the best high, well next to hitting an especially good chord, or refrain in solo. Hell they don’t call them sex faces for nothing, I damn near cum with a good solo under me. He laughed, even through his exhaustion, as he recalled the last concert. He’d run all over the damn stage, just like he was young again. True his knees gave him fits the next morning, but it was all worth it.

Thank God we have a few days off. I’m too fuckin’ tired to even hold a guitar. He glanced over at his current favorite and snorted. Don’t lie to yourself man, you’re never too tired for that or sex. Fuck the guitar was more reliable than the sex these days, he hadn’t dated that regular since Denise. I gotta fix that, hell I can’t go without it makes me cranky.

He pulled the phone to him and called down for room service. Food and something to wash it down with, that’s what he needed, along with at least a full day of sleep. He might get reasonably closer to normal then. Settling the phone back into its cradle he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He’d nap a little until room service arrived. Five minutes later his eyes snapped open as he growled. Well that wasn’t gonna work, tired or not he couldn’t rest.

Reaching for his leather tote he pulled the lap top out and booted it up. Might was well check email and the forum. Hell he hadn’t checked the forum in a couple of days come to think of it.

As the page loaded he noticed the happy little flag blinking that told him he had a message. Going into the message area he had not one message but three or four and two of them from the lady of the day, Rosary. He chose to read the one from the stranger first and within seconds was leaning back with a goofy grin on his lips. Well wasn’t that nice of her to welcome a new writer personally? He fired off a short and sweet thank you then moved into his next message.

Subject: Re: Well you did dare me

Oh my gosh you didn’t.. I don’t believe it. I’ll have to go check right away.

RD

“Fuckin’ A I dared darlin. I’m all about the dare some days.” Richie grinned and opened the second message from Rosary. She’d messaged twice? This one must be about the chapter. God what if she thought it stunk? How the hell could you live with the fact that you couldn’t write the one thing you know best, yourself?

He opened the message and started to laugh. Of course I have balls darlin, rather nice ones. Shame ya wont get to see them. She liked it? Fuck yeah she liked it, she was gonna write a response to it? Well he’d just have to check into that.

He shook his head at the you must be or outta be Richie. “Got that right darlin.” Only one Richie Sambora in the world and he was definitely it. Noted the question and knew he’d have to figure out some way of explaining how men thought that a woman could think like. Well he’d come up with something.

Well fuck she left mid sentence to .. well shit she’s mad? Over Gossip? What the hell? He read on and the rant had his curiosity blazing. He moved away from the message to open a new window and started copying in the links she’d shared. He pulled up one link after the other and shook his head at what came out, in his fucking name no less, but when he read the news article about him and Jon sitting at a piano with a tape recorder ripping off songs he roared. He just had to show Jon that one.

He finished reading the pages she given him and went back to the email his eyes widening at her rant. She got it, not many did in fact and that had him smiling, but when he got to the part about his dating and Hollywierd he stopped cold. “What the fuck? I don’t date mindless bimbos!” His fingers tapped against the arm of the couch as he reread what she had written. I so have dated non blondes, I have. Why there was Ally and Cher and……Ok so that was back in the late 80’s. He leaned back stumped as he read her words for a third time his mind traveling back to tick the blondes off in his head. She had seen something he hadn’t ever even considered before. “Well fuck me.” Maybe that’s what the problems been all along. I mean yeah they understand the fame game and the long absences, but they don’t really get ME, my music or hell me the man. Shit, maybe this little writer is on to something.

He shook his head to clear it of the thoughts and moved into the fiction area and sure enough there were new posts in what he now considered “his thread.” Opening he began to scan down from his post, a proud smile beginning to creep into his eyes. I got candy? They fucking liked it? I GOT CANDY? Oh wait that’s pictures of me!! But hey! They think.. I GOT CANDY! He let loose with a soft whoop and kept reading, unable to get the stupid grin off his face.

I try to pull my scattered wits about me, hell I can’t even breathe, and when you settle me onto that small couch I can’t hold back the moans. You aren’t done yet I can tell that. My moans began to shift into gasping sobs as your lips and fingers do their magic. God you always know just the right places to touch.

A rather loud knock startled him from his reading as the words, “Room Service!” was called out. Setting the laptop aside he growled, “I’ll be back Rosary Darlin, just you wait.”

He settled back onto the couch a few moments later, a glass of iced tea and a rather large overly stuff sandwich beside him. He quickly pulled the laptop back into his lap, picked up his sandwich and began to read.

Your eyes are so dark with passion that I can’t restrain a shiver. “That’s two,” you say, and I know I’m in for a very long session of being teased, tormented and worshipped. Leaning forward I brush my fingers over your full plush lips. You love that, I know you do, you’re always touching them yourself.

He placed his sandwich down, totally missing the plate, his eyes narrowing. Now how the fuck had she figured that one out? He didn’t think he touched his mouth THAT much. What was she a fuckin’ mind reader? He glanced over to see all the fixings sliding from his lunch. He’d been so engrossed he’d missed the plate. “Well fuck I’ll fix that later.” Shoving the stuff back in between the bread he took another bite and went back to reading.

Less than half an hour later he leaned back, his hand drifted to the pained tightness of his jeans. God fuckin’ damn the woman knew how to respond. He wondered if she wrote from experience or just made it up as she went along. He knew he had to respond, but in message and thread, but he had pressing business to attend too first. Goddamned wench had him harder than a brick and it was paining him. “Ohh if you were here little Rosary, I’d teach you all about what happens when you rev up the king.”

He moved into the bathroom and straight into the scalding hot shower. Soaping his hands he began to shower, his hand again drifting to the hardness that was causing him no amount of trouble. He hadn’t had to do this out of need for years, but of late getting himself off was easier than finding someone to get him off. Leaning back against the shower wall he tried to picture any number of women, but all that came to mind was a faceless woman in an RV.

He finished towel drying his hair as he walked from the bathroom. Damn now he was wide awake. Not a bad thing though, he had a feeling if he went to sleep he’d be dreaming about RV’s. He wondered if the other people on the board had those same problems.

Sitting back down he pulled the laptop onto his towel clad waist and pulled up his message page. Opening the message from Rosary he hit reply and began to type. Finishing the message he sent it off and moved on to the Richie forum. It was time to let his creativity fly. It was time for Richie to ramp up the action a bit.