Chapter Twenty-Eight

They stood there holding each other for a long time before Jon came back and asked if Richie was coming with them. Richie shook his head, “Not tonight.”

Jon understood immediately. “I’ll have them bring the second limo out back,” he said simply, and retreated from the room smiling to himself.

“Come on,” Richie growled in Samantha’s ear. “Let’s get out of here.”

Samantha suddenly wanted – needed – nothing more than to be with him, and her blood raced as Richie took her hand and led her out back to the other waiting limo.

Twenty minutes later, they arrived outside a Hilton and Samantha followed Richie through the glorious lobby to the golden elevator. Once inside, she had to resist an animal-like instinct to start tearing Richie’s clothes off his body right then and there, and judging by the strain in his tight jeans, she figured he was fighting the same urge.

When they finally reached the outside of Richie’s suite, he swiped the room key and kicked open the door for her, moving aside so she could step in. She barely had time to marvel at the inside before she heard the door slam and felt Richie’s strong hands on her hips as he swiveled her around.

Their mouths met in hungry desperation and Samantha felt something explode from deep within her, sending waves of desire through her body. She melted at his touch, allowing his strong arms to envelop her, and relishing in his spicy, musky scent, which was a mixture of cologne and sweat.

“Sam…” he growled, breathless. “I’ve missed you.”

Samantha looked at him with darkened eyes and traced his bulging biceps gently with her fingers. He shivered with delight at her light touch, and he dipped his head to kiss her again.

His hands found the front of her blouse and ripped it open, paying no attention to the buttons that went flying. Samantha’s breathing became ragged, and as she felt Richie’s hot tongue flicking at the hollow of her throat, she groaned deeply. She grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head, throwing it to the floor.

She ran her hands over his bronzed chest and he scooped her up in his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and sucked in a breath as she felt his hardness against her own center. He laid her down on the bed and climbed on top of her, running his hands through her hair and raining kisses on her face.

“Impatient, are we?” Samantha whispered slyly, fighting the desire to have her own way with him. She had been denying everything for so long that she wanted him – all of him – now. Badly.

“A little,” Richie snarled, kissing and nipping at her neck.

She grabbed his hair and pulled his head up to meet his mouth again, and they sank into a fiery exchange of pent-up passion. When they finally came up for air, she looked up at him with darkened eyes and silently moved her hands under his abdomen. He raised himself off her enough to allow her hands access, and they slid downward toward his jeans, making his breath catch in his throat. She undid the snap and slid down the zipper, grazing her fingers along his length and enjoying the effect it had on him.

“Jesus…” he muttered, whispering huskily against her ear.

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Richie wanted to make this last – Lord, he wanted to prolong this unbelievable feeling of connection with the woman he loved so deeply. But he could not resist any longer – the desire to be a part of her was magnetic, almost animalistic, and he couldn’t deny the desperately growing need between his legs.

Impatiently, he kicked his jeans off and slid his arms beneath her torso, pulling her up against him tightly. She grabbed his shoulders and clung to him, and he relished in the feel of her bare skin against his. She threw her head back as he commenced kissing her neck, and he loosened his hold on her to reach her chest. Though he held her tightly, he had begun to tremble, and his fingers fumbled with the snap on her bra.

As he freed her breasts, he immediately worked on each one, moving his tongue in slick circles and causing her to groan loudly. She ground her hips into him as she leaned back, and he was annoyed at the denim that lay between them. Abandoning her chest, he grinned at her devilishly and slid the zipper on her jeans down, tracing his fingers along her as she had done to him. She sucked in a breath as he ripped the jeans off and tore away the thin lace of her panties, then he pulled her lean body back to him, her smooth, bare legs sliding around his waist once more.

Richie groaned deeply at the feel of her heat pressed against him. He was trembling harder now, impatient and desperate to be united with her on that level…but still he resisted, waiting for the right moment.

Samantha gripped his arms tightly, and Richie didn’t take his eyes off of her as he slowly slipped one arm from behind her and then down between her legs.

“Oh God, Richie…” she gasped, her breathing quickening again and her blood pounding in her veins.

Richie stroked the inside of her thighs with his calloused guitarist’s fingers, making her writhe in anticipation. Goosebumps rose up on her thighs and he slowly slid two fingers into her, smiling when she jerked and sucked in a breath. He worked her gently, sliding his fingers in and out, all the while keeping his eyes on her, watching the expressions on her face change like a chameleon’s colors.

When he could feel her muscles contracting more quickly, he pulled his fingers out before she could finish. Samantha looked back at him and exhaled exasperatedly, a frown on her face.

“Sorry baby,” he grinned. “But I can’t have you riding that wave alone, now, can I?”

She pouted at him, breathless and flustered, and she looked so unbelievably sexy that Richie couldn’t help himself. He crushed his mouth down on hers, pushing her back down on the bed so he could climb atop her again. Their mouths moved against each other and their tongues moved furiously, their hands groping and touching each other's body wildly.

When neither of them could take it any longer, Samantha slid her fingers beneath the band of Richie’s boxer shorts and ripped them off his body as he had done with her panties. Richie hovered over her and positioned himself between her legs, supporting himself on strong arms.

Samantha arched her back and inhaled sharply at the pressure of him entering her. Richie lowered himself and pressed his body against hers, sliding deeper within her. He began to rock his hips, slowly at first, then gradually faster as they both craved more, every fiber of their beings exploding in desire.

Richie felt the swell of Samantha’s chest as she breathed rapidly, and he brushed her hair away from her sweaty neck to trace his tongue along her skin. She groaned and pulled his head up to meet his lips, kissing him fiercely as he drove into her. “God, Richie…” she breathed in his ear, surprised at the physical and emotional feelings that had overcome her. She thrust her hips to meet his and they moved in perfect synch, dancing a feral dance that rocked the bed. Adrenaline pounded throughout their bodies, and they responded to its call almost frantically.

Richie held Samantha tighter and quickened his pace even more, driving himself as deep and as hard as he could. She wrapped her legs around his hips to help him, which elicited a deep groan from him as he was able to slide even deeper. He felt her muscles begin to lose control and her body start to shake, and he grit his teeth against the glorious feeling of release, wanting to postpone it until she felt hers.

Samantha groaned loudly and dug her nails into his back as her insides began to tingle, spreading a shuddering warmth through her. She clenched her jaw and shut her eyes tightly as she reached the top, and Richie felt himself losing control at the edge as well. They both screamed simultaneously as he spilled into her and her body jerked of its own accord, sent off on a wild ride.

As the waves began to subside, Richie collapsed into her, breathing as if he had just run three miles. Samantha released her legs from around his waist, her heart racing. Their bodies were slick with sweat, and their hearts pounded against each other as they gasped for breath, waiting for the aftershocks to wear off.

“Jesus…” Samantha whispered. Richie nodded against her shoulder. “I know,” he breathed back. With him still inside her, they held each other and let their bodies gradually calm.

Finally, Richie smoothed Samantha’s sweaty hair from her face and kissed her softly. “You know we have to talk, right?”

Samantha nodded. “Yes, but can’t we do this again instead?” she grinned devilishly, and Richie had half a mind to comply. But they both knew that talking was inevitable, so he slowly pulled out and rolled off of her. She snuggled up next to him and he put an arm around her, holding her close.

They lay there silently, Samantha listening to his heartbeat, before she spoke.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” she began. “And I should have told you a long time ago. But I didn’t. Because I was scared and stupid.”

Richie looked at her gently, his dark brown eyes encouraging her to go on. She closed her eyes, gathered her courage, and began to talk.

She told him everything: Shane, the whole history behind him – the marriage, the cheating, the breakup, the heartbreak – and about running into him recently. She told him about the article, about how he called, what happened at her apartment…

She left nothing out, even the fact that she realized she had still been in love with him when she met Richie. Richie listened as she talked, taking in every word and feeling her pain, realizing how very much alike they were. Jon was right, he realized. He was right about her, he was right about him, he was right about them. It all made sense.

When Samantha finished the story she sighed, feeling as though a huge weight had been lifted off her chest and shoulders.

“I know that’s all a lot to digest,” she confessed. “It’s a lot for me too, believe me. But I thought you should know the truth, and the whole truth, to understand where I was coming from.”

Richie exhaled. “Thank you for telling me,” he said quietly. “It all makes more sense now. Not that I like it. I want to kill him for hurting you like that.”

Samantha looked at him. “I’m sorry I handled everything the way I did,” she whispered. “I can never express how sorry I am.”

Richie sighed. “It’s all right, baby. It’s in the past, and we’re together now. That’s all that matters,” he paused. “But I do understand, more than you know. And now it’s my turn.”

He drew a deep breath and told her the story of Heather, a story he had never told in its entirety to anyone before. Like she had done, he told her everything – things no one, not even Jon, knew. And though it twisted his heart to remember some of it, Richie found it cleansing and healing to confide everything to another soul.

Samantha watched him as he spoke, her heart aching for him and her eyes welling up with tears. She clearly saw the pain in his features as he remembered it, and she knew it wasn't easy in the slightest for him to talk openly about it. When he was done, she reached up and kissed him tenderly. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Richie was silent, but he pulled her closer and buried his nose in her hair, breathing in her comforting scent.

“It’s made me a stronger person, you know,” he said.

"I know, me too," Samantha replied quietly. "Thanks for telling me."

Richie nodded. "You had to know."

For the rest of the night they talked, pouring their hearts out to one another for hours and making love in between. Just before dawn, they lay holding each other again, spent and completely exhausted, but both feeling freer than either of them had in a very long time. The gentle watery glow of the early morning sun was just beginning to lighten the inky sky when they got ready to drift off to sleep.

Rcihie pulled Samantha close and whispered in her ear. “I love you."

Samantha smiled. “I love you too.”

Richie traced the tip of his nose along her ear and closed his eyes. “In case I haven’t told you, you’re amazing,” he swallowed hard. “You’ve been through so much, and even if you didn’t know how to deal with it for awhile, you finally did. Some people never do. You’re one hell of an incredible woman.”

“Well, thanks, but I’m not perfect,” Samantha shook her head.

“Neither am I,” Richie whispered back. “But that’s okay. You know why?”

Samantha shook her head again.

“Because we’re two imperfect people…but we make the perfect couple.”

Samantha smiled. He was right. They were.

And that’s all they needed to be.