Pulling up to the hotel Sam sighed. She loved her job, really she did, but the traveling got tiresome after a while. Getting out of the car she pushed through the revolving door and went to check in, all the while pondering another lonely dinner for one in the restaurant. Maybe she’d just have a bottle of wine sent to her room. She could soak in the tub and sip her Carmenere and not have to worry about some schmuck chatting her up in the bar. With another sigh she turned for the elevator and was nearly knocked to the floor. “Excuse me.” Electric blue eyes met her softer, more muted shade as a pair of strong arms steadied her on her feet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

"Not a problem," Sam said with a soft Southern drawl, though in the back of her head, she was screaming. Her palms were getting clammy, and she felt a slight tremor in her knees. Staring into eyes that were impossibly blue, she felt like a schoolgirl with her first crush. A moment later, when the smile came, crinkling the corners of his gorgeous eyes, she felt ALL woman and nearly whimpered. In her line of work, she met all sorts of famous and infamous people, and she didn't really understand why she was having this particular reaction to this particular celebrity. They stood there for a moment more before the corner of Sam's mouth twitched up in a smile. "So, are you going to hold me here all night? Or can I go up to my room now?"

"Sorry," Jon said, dropping his hands from the soft silk of this woman's suit jacket. He noticed he left wrinkle marks on her sleeves, and tried to smooth them away.

Sam smiled her thanks and started to move around Jon before her fair complexion gave away just what she was thinking. Jon started to move too, and stepped directly into her path. Both tried to correct their mis-steps and the result was the comical side-step dance people do when they can't seem to get out of each other's way. Finally, Samantha laughed and put up a small hand. A hand, Jon noticed, that was devoid of a wedding ring. "Wait. Stop. You stay still, I'll move." When she passed by him, he caught a whiff of her fragrance. He closed his eyes briefly in appreciation of the essences of honey, chocolate and caramel that filled his nostrils. When the woman was walking past him, he quickly scanned her body, from her long neck, down to her slender waist and toned, shapely legs, to the most gorgeous ankles he’d ever seen and the 5” high-heeled shoes that still had her a good three inches shorter than him. Chuckling to himself at his open perusal of this stranger, he watched the elevator doors close behind the woman before resuming his errands.

When the doors slid shut, Samantha slumped against the wall, trying to sort out just what it was about that man that had her going all goofy. She knew who he was, of course, but had never really gotten into the music. She didn’t turn the radio off when one of their songs played, but she was more a blues and jazz diva than a rock queen. She didn’t think it was WHO he was that made her all squishy inside. She thought it was the fact that he was perhaps the most perfect specimen of man she’d ever seen. And he’d checked her out.

The doors slid open on her floor, and Samantha just shook her head as she walked up the hall to her room. It didn't matter why he affected her, just that he did. She was smug in the knowledge that she affected him as well; she wasn’t blind. His gaze felt good on her – too good. He made her feel something she hadn't felt in a long time, since long before her divorce was final. She snickered dirtily to herself. If he'd make her feel other things, she'd be grateful, too.

Closing the door behind her, Sam stepped out of her shoes and leaned back against it. Closing her eyes she could see him clearly, those eyes, that smile… she shook her head, come on Sam, he’s just a man. She snickered, yeah, right, just a dangerously handsome, screamingly sexy man with the bluest eyes and brightest smile I have ever seen. Unbuttoning her suit coat she crossed to the bathroom. A bath was just what she needed to relax and not think about the man in the lobby. Rummaging through her bag she found her toiletries and, turning the taps on she added a dollop of her favorite scent and let the tub fill.

She hung her suit jacket on a hanger and after stepping out of her skirt, clipped it to the same hanger. Her silky peach camisole landed in the suitcase and, propping a leg up on the bed, she unhooked her garters and rolled the soft silk hose down her legs. Her peach lace panties went next, but they were going to have to go anyway. That interlude in the lobby had left her damp and more than a little uncomfortable.

The light scent of chocolate wafted from the bathroom and Sam shut the taps off. Before settling in the steaming bit of heaven she called down to room service. A bottle of wine was on its way. Searching the bathroom she found a couple of candles and had just them lit when the knock came. Wrapping herself in the fluffy hotel robe she thanked the waiter, tipped him and sent him on his way.

Dropping the robe, and with glass in hand, she sank into the steaming fragrant water, groaning in appreciation as her muscles loosened and the days’ trials and tribulations were momentarily forgotten. One thing that wasn’t forgotten however, was the man in the lobby. Just the thought of him had her blood humming. Setting the now empty glass on the edge of the tub Sam rested her head back and closed her eyes, again bringing his face to the forefront of her mind. She skimmed her fingertips over her heated flesh, circling her hardening nipples, plucking lightly, groaning softly, as her hand moved lower, beyond the bubbles.

Shifting slightly in the tub, Sam’s fingers slid through the small triangle of hair, teasing, circling her clit as she thought of the man she had run into in the lobby. She moaned lightly when she imagined what his hands would be doing to her if he was right there in the bath with her. Her fingers circled round and round, the pressure increasing as she pictured the honey brown hair over those incredible blue eyes. When she let herself think about Jon’s mouth she slid first one then two fingers inside herself, pumping slowly at first then faster as she thought about the slight bit of pink tongue she had glimpsed when he licked his lips. Concentrating on just what she wanted that tongue to do to her, she pumped furiously with one hand while the other worked her clit. When her climax hit she arched out of the tub, the cool air making her nipples tighten more, adding to the intensity of her release. Water splashed over the side as she worked herself through it, groaning Jon’s name as she finally settled, the tremors making waves in the cooling water.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Jon got through his interviews faster than normal. He didn't enjoy the light flirtation he usually indulged in when he had a pretty reporter asking him questions. He was no-nonsense, all business Jon today. This was the Jon who gave interviews and statements to CNN and ESPN. He was completely distracted by the woman he had seen in the lobby. He berated himself, for not only didn't he get her name, but he was too old to be swayed by a beautiful face. And toned arms. And, God help him, the slender doe's throat of her ankles. Her fucking ANKLES! He shook his head ruefully, and got through the rest of the afternoon and evening.

It was well past dark by the time Jon got back to the hotel. He was starving, and was faced with either a solitary dinner in his suite, or a solitary dinner in the hotel restaurant. A third possibility, chatting up someone, just didn't appeal to him. He'd been 'on' all afternoon; he needed to shut down. He spoke in hushed tones with the maitre d’. "How's the house look tonight, Marc?"

"All quiet, Mr. Bongiovi," the tall, dark-haired man answered. "There are several patrons in the bar, but only one table taken in the restaurant. You should be able to avoid being bothered." Marc picked up the heavy wine list along with the dinner menu, and smiled indulgently at Jon.

Jon smiled back. "Excellent," he said. "Lead the way."

Marc led Jon to a table on the other side of the room from the clearly occupied but otherwise empty table. A laptop, nearly-empty plate, and half-empty bottle of Carmenere littered the table. Jon chuckled and shook his head. A consummate workaholic himself, he understood this person's need to take any opportunity to get things done. In fact, he rued his decision to come straight to the restaurant. He should have detoured past his suite to grab his own computer.

Once he was safely ensconced behind his wine menu, Jon peeped out over the top to await the other person's arrival. He didn’t have to wait long. She came from the direction of the rest rooms. Her back was to him, and as he scanned her form, he took in her short blonde hair and the dangly earrings that kissed her shoulders. He followed the soft angora of her sweater down her slender back to the waist of her peasant-style skirt. Wishing the skirt was shorter, he skimmed quickly down her legs to her ankles, and dropped his arms noisily to the table, causing the silverware to jump and rattle.

It was her. It had to be. He’d been obsessing over those ankles all damned day.

The noise from his table made the woman on the other side of the room jump as well. She had an irritated look on her face as she spun around to see what made all that racket.

Samantha nearly died when she turned around and saw Jon sitting there. He had a sheepish grin on his face as he glanced down to the silverware that was now all askew on his tabletop. She rolled her eyes at him and gave a little wave, then practically fell into her booth as her legs weakened. She tried to engross herself in her computer, but she was all self-conscious now. She had indulged in a little Google search on Jon, linking “Jon” and “bathtub fantasy” and had stumbled on site after site of what could only be called hard-core porn. She had been happily reading, losing herself in the story she had chosen, and most certainly couldn't continue doing that now. She could FEEL his gaze on her as acutely as she felt her own touch scant hours before, and was positive he’d know what she was doing.

Taking a fortifying gulp of the crimson colored wine at her elbow, Samantha closed her eyes let the cherry-like, fruity flavor wash over her tongue, groaning in appreciation of the smoky, spicy and earthy notes that this young wine possessed. Something of a connoisseur, Samantha appreciated a good wine, and this bottle definitely fit the bill. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see Jon standing by her table, bottle and glass in hand, with a shit-eating grin on his face. She noticed he was drinking the same wine as she.

“We meet again,” he said to her.

“So it would appear,” Samantha squeaked. She could not believe he was standing there no more than two feet in front of her. She cleared her throat and then remembered her manners. “Would you care to join me?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Jon slid into the booth across from Samantha, and Sam discreetly shut her laptop and slid the machine onto the booth next to her. Jon’s long legs brushed Samantha’s as he sat, and just like that, the tension she had thought she relieved in her bathtub was back. Mentally squaring her shoulders, she was determined to put the nervousness and instant attraction she felt aside and just enjoy the evening.

Jon had a million questions he wanted to ask, starting with her name. Or what fragrance she was wearing. Up close like this, the scent was driving him wild. First things first, though, he need to know who she was. His hand snaked across the table toward hers, the tips of his fingers just barely grazing the tips of hers. “So darlin’, do you have a name?”

Sam smiled and took another sip of her wine, not daring to move her other hand. “Well, I most certainly do.”

Jon reached for his own glass, “what do I have to do to get you to tell me what it is?”

Sam watched, dry-mouthed, as his Adam’s apple worked up and down as he swallowed. That, just keep doing that and I’ll tell you anything you want to know. She was saved from having to answer when the waiter appeared with Jon’s dinner. “Ah, decided to join the lady I see.”

Jon nodded, “I did. Thank you.” Marc left them again and Jon looked down at his plate and then over at Sam, “you know I feel rude eating in front of you. Do you want some of this?”

Sam looked down at Jon’s plate, “thank you, but no. I’ve already eaten. You go ahead.” She sipped at her wine again. “Sam.”

Jon looked at her, confusion clearly etched on his face. “What?”

Sam smiled slightly, “you wanted to know my name. It’s Samantha, but my friends call me Sam.”

Jon smiled back at her, “it’s nice to meet you Samantha, I’m Jon.” Reluctantly Jon pulled his hand back across the table and picked up his knife. “Where are you from Samantha?”

She looked at him over the rim of her glass “New Orleans by way of Raleigh.” If he kept saying her name like that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to restrain herself from joining him on his side of the booth. “Where are you from?” The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it and she cringed at the absurdity of it.

Jon hid a chuckle behind a bite of potato. “New Jersey, but I live in New York now.”

Sam nodded her head. “Are you married?”

A hint of sadness crossed his features as he glanced at his left hand before returning his gaze to Sam’s face, “not anymore. I got divorced last year.” Jon took a bite of his steak, “how about you, are you married?”

Sam shook her head and wiggled the fingers on her left hand. “Nope. I’m divorced too. A few years now.”

Jon nearly smirked, he had figured as much when he ran into her in the lobby and didn’t see a ring. “So Samantha what’s a beautiful woman like you doing in a hotel restaurant eating dinner all alone?”

Sam shifted her legs under the table and found hers sliding against a hard denim-clad calf. Oh my. She drained her wine glass. “Working. I’m here on business. You?” She reached for the bottle to refill her glass only to find the bottle empty. Jon motioned to the bottle he had brought, in silent invitation. Samantha smiled her thanks to him, and leaned forward to grab the bottle by the neck.

Jon squirmed slightly while the wine was being poured, he didn’t want to tell her that he was here to do a show tomorrow night. She hadn’t gotten all shrieky and screamy when they had literally bumped into each other in the lobby so he was sure she wasn’t a fan, but she seemed to know who he was; he noticed her faint blush when she had asked him where he was from. “I have some business here as well.” He hoped she wouldn’t question him further about it.

Sam just smiled cryptically. “I see,” she said.

They chatted a while longer, lingering over that second, then a third bottle of wine, sharing stories about their children and their upbringings, and different places they’d traveled to. They found they had gone to many of the same places and had mostly the same impressions on the places they’d been. Jon was starting to really relax. Once he discovered that Sam didn’t really care who he was his laughter came freely, and his eyes sparkled and danced.

He couldn’t deny the attraction to the woman across the table from him. Every time she shifted in her seat, he felt something stir. Sometimes it was in his pants, but sometimes it was in his gut. His pants made him come over to her table, but his gut was what was keeping him here. His pants had gotten him into trouble more times than he could count, but his gut? That had never let him down yet.

For Samantha, she was enjoying good wine and better conversation with a smart, witty, drop-dead gorgeous hunk of a man. She was pretty sure she’d remember every little detail of their encounter, even though she suffered from “wine amnesia” when she imbibed. One thing she new she would absolutely remember, is when she uncrossed or re-crossed her legs under the table, her foot would graze his leg, and his pupils would dilate...just a little.

By the time the third bottle was empty, Jon had reached across the table and was fiddling with Samantha’s fingers again, this time boldly rubbing them while they talked. Samantha completely lost track of the conversation and was watching his long, slightly crooked fingers play and slide over hers.

The waiter came and cleared Jon’s plate, startling them. “Can I get you anything else?”

Jon looked at Sam with heat in his gaze. “I think we’re all set.” Sam just nodded.

Jon waited for Samantha to gather her belongings into an oversized bag and sling it across her body, then led her from the restaurant with a gentle guiding hand at the small of her back. The light contact singed Sam, and her eyes rolled back just a little as her core twitched. Good Lord! The man had her practically orgasming from just that light touch. He led her through the opulent lobby to the site of their first encounter, and pressed the ‘up’ button. When they stepped in, and the door slid closed, neither moved to press the numbered floor buttons.

“Which floor?” Jon asked, his voice husky. With a shaking finger, Sam pushed the ‘5’. “I’m on the fifth,” she said softly. “Where are you?”

“Exactly where I want to be,” Jon said, a moment before pulling Samantha into his arms.

Their eyes stayed locked while Jon’s mouth descended slowly to Sam’s. He was giving her every opportunity to stop him before it went too far to stop. He feared he was already there, but was trying to do the noble thing. He didn’t need to worry; the instant his lips touched Samantha’s, she melted into his chest and small hands snaked around his back to hold him tight. He brought his hands up to frame her face and she sighed. At the slight parting of her lips, Jon’s tongue slowly, softy probed, and his dick jumped when the tip of her tongue touched his. Before either could deepen the kiss, the elevator dinged discreetly, and the doors slid open.

With a shaky smile, Samantha preceded Jon out of the elevator, digging through her bag for her key. She led the way down the hall to her room, and was inexplicably nervous; she had trouble getting the key card into the slot. Jon took it from her hand and tapped it against his palm. “If this makes you uncomfortable...”

Samantha shook her head. “Not uncomfortable, just nervous.”

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Jon said, stroking the back of his hand down Samantha’s cheek. “Nothing will happen that you don’t want to have happen.” He smiled gently at her.

Sam chuckled. “See, there’s why I’m nervous,” she said. “I don’t think there’s anything I don’t want to have happen.” She blushed.

Jon’s eyes darkened and narrowed; his smile turning positively feral. “Well,” he said. “What are we waiting for, then?” He unlocked and opened Sam’s door, pulling her along behind him. When the door slammed shut, he waited exactly eight seconds for her bag to hit the floor before he had her lifted fully off the ground and pressed her against the door. Sam’s hands played along Jon’s flexed muscles, squeezing their hardness. Her legs wrapped around his waist of their own accord, and she whimpered when Jon ground into her, pressing her harder into the door.

Her mouth opened eagerly under his, and his tongue swept inside; exploring and tasting every centimeter of space. When he found her tongue, he wrapped his around hers, stroking it firmly while he rubbed his erection into her dampening core. Samantha’s fingers lightly traced the contours of Jon’s face before sneaking into his hair, and the feel of those soft, luxurious locks would have made her knees weak, had she been standing. She grabbed his hair and repositioned his head just a little, and her confidence and initiative had Jon harder then he was a moment ago.

He tore his mouth away from hers to whisper, “there’s nothing sexier than a woman who knows what she wants.”

“Well darlin’,” Sam whispered back as she placed hard sucking kisses along his jaw to his earlobe, “I want you.” She bit down on Jon’s ear hard enough to make him hiss, and when she soothed the bite with her tongue, his fingers gripped her hips hard enough to bruise.

“I’m yours for the taking,” Jon said, wincing as he waited for Samantha to call him on using a line from one of his songs. When she didn’t, he smiled and walked them across the room to the bed. He loosened his hold on Sam, and she slithered down his body until her feet touched the floor. Jon’s fingers slid under the hem of her sweater, caressing the soft skin of her stomach before sliding it up and off. He stopped, nearly gasping, her lace and silk bra was the same soft hue as her sweater and her nipples were hard and begging for his touch. As Jon was studying her Sam grew impatient. Reaching for his shirt she nimbly worked the buttons, spreading the shirt open, pushing the offending garment off his shoulders and down his arms.

Sam took long minutes stroking Jon’s hard chest, and the soft fur that covered it. His eyes closed in pleasure at her exploration, and he had his hands fisted at his sides to keep from attacking her. When she found his hard little nipples she scratched her short nails over them, earning her another hiss. Smiling, she leaned in to nuzzle his chest, and flicked her tongue over one stiff nail head. Unable to control himself anymore, Jon hauled Samantha to him and effortlessly unhooked her bra, tossing it behind him. Before Samantha could recover, he was holding her hands over her head and latching on to the peak of one soft, white mound. Samantha groaned and whimpered, “please”, and Jon let her up for another mind-numbing kiss.

They took turns, each one divesting the other of their remaining clothes until the thin scrap of lace of Sam’s thong was the only barrier left between them. Sam sucked in a breath at the vision Jon was. His body was hard and lean, and virtually twitching with barely contained passion. Reaching out she traced each ridge of ab muscle, her fingers sliding down slowly until they hovered over his rock hard erection. She stroked him lightly, fascinated when his cock jumped at her touch.

Jon closed his eyes as she stroked him, savoring the feel of her small warm hand wrapped around him. He groaned as she tightened her grip, his hips moving of their own volition. When he felt the tell-tale tingle at the base of his spine he pulled her hand from him. “Samantha, stop.” He didn’t want to cum like this. He wanted to bury himself in her, lose himself in her, lose himself with her.

Sam looked up at him, “I thought you were mine for the taking.”

His lip twitched into half a smile, “I am baby, but not like this.” He reached behind him to pull the covers down with a flick of the wrist, and then turned Samantha, pushing her gently, letting her fall across the bed before crawling up over her.

Kissing up her thighs, he noticed she tasted faintly of chocolate. He smiled against her as he nuzzled her mound through the tiny bit of lace. With his teeth he gripped the waist and tugged the thong down, finishing with his fingers, and tossing it over his shoulder. She was ready for him, he could see it, he could smell it and now he wanted to taste it. He nibbled up the inside of her thighs, stroking his tongue up and down the crease of her thigh, teasing her with his touch.

Sam writhed on the bed beneath him. She couldn’t take much more of his teasing. Her hands buried themselves in his hair and when he drilled the tip of his tongue against her clit her hips came off the bed, grinding against his face. He gripped her hips hard and held her down against the bed, tugging on her clit with his teeth. His name was an oath off her tongue as he continued. When his tongue slipped lower, slid into her and he fucked her with his mouth, her scream of release echoed around them. Jon had to tighten his hold on Sam’s hips to keep her from arching off the bed, and the increased pressure made Sam scream louder.

As she shuddered under him Jon slid up her body, nipping and kissing his way up to her breasts. Jon took a straining nipple into his mouth and sucked gently before giving its twin the same treatment. Moving higher he nuzzled her neck, kissed across her jaw, and finally claimed her mouth. She could feel his hardness pressing against her thigh, the tip perilously close to piercing her pussy, as their mouths ate at each other.

Reluctantly Samantha pulled her mouth from his, “do you have something?” she rasped.

He nodded and rolled off of her, searching for his pants. When he turned back, Sam sat up and took the foil packet from him as she stroked her tongue up the hard length of him. She opened the packet and rolled the condom on, slowly stroking him from base to tip. His eyes nearly crossed at her touch and when she pushed him down he went willingly.

She straddled him and took him in one slow thrust. “God Sam,” he rasped. Jon thought he was going cum right then as she enveloped him. When she rolled her hips he struggled to maintain his control. She rode him, grinding against him with every down stroke. When Jon thought he could take no more, she slowed her motions and leaned back, resting her hands on his calves. The shift in angle eased just enough of the pressure to make Jon swear, but gave him the opportunity to play his fingers over Sam’s clit again.

Samantha’s eyes were squeezed shut as the new assault brought her up close to the edge quickly. Her breathing became more labored, and she rocked harder on Jon’s steel shaft. When Jon sensed she was on the brink, he reared up quickly and rolled them, pressing Sam’s knees up near her ears while he pounded into her, his need to cum so great it was the only thought in his head. He had only a second or two before he would surely erupt, and wanted Samantha to go with him. He quickly braced her small feet on his shoulders, and pinched her nipples between his fingers, hard. She cried out, Jon couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or pain, but her pussy muscles started to clench and ripple, and Jon barely heard her cry of release as he groaned out his.

While he rode out her waves of pleasure, he turned his head to lick at Samantha’s ankle. She gasped and giggled, and dropped her feet to the bed, causing Jon’s balance to falter, and he landed on top of her. The thick, soft hair of his chest teased at Sam’s nipples, and she arched and groaned in appreciation. Jon kissed her deeply, rolling them to the side so he wouldn’t crush her. Long, luxurious minutes later, Jon pulled out of Samantha and took care of the condom. He came back from the bathroom with a cool washcloth, and with light, soothing motions, cleaned up Samantha as well.

When Jon came back to bed, he slid an arm around Samantha’s shoulders and pulled her close. He hooked a foot into the blankets, and drew them up so the two of them were covered. Jon kissed Samantha over and over, slow, unhurried kisses that left her sighing. Smiling, Jon tucked Sam into his shoulder and she closed her eyes sleepily. She tossed a careless leg across his hip; not in invitation, but because she was comfortable. Regardless of the reason, Jon found himself unable to resist the warm, delicate flesh. He stroked her gently; the light contact made Sam’s eyes open and a gasp escape her kiss-swollen lips.

“Jon,” she breathed.

“Relax, baby,” Jon answered, and eased Samantha onto her back. He continued stroking her with his fingers while he kissed his way down her neck and to her over-sensitized breasts. Just the whisper of his breath on her made her moan and twitch. “Now Samantha,” Jon said smirking, “don’t make me hold you down again, you might bruise.”

“Fine by me,” Samantha moaned, head thrashing as Jon’s gentle torture brought her close to the brink.

Jon stopped touching Samantha with his hands and slid down her body, his chest hair tickling her as he went. He settled between her thighs, pushing at them to get her to open more to him. He smiled at the evidence of her arousal, and leaned in to taste it again. He stretched his tongue, just touching her hole with the tip. The light contact made Samantha fist her hands into the sheets at her sides, and a long, low growl escape her throat. Loving her reactions to him, he attacked, latching his lips onto her slick ones and letting his tongue drive into her.

Samantha screamed his name as the buzzing, throbbing sensations assaulted her. She was so tense she thought she would launch off the bed. Then Jon stopped, and the buzz subsided. “Why’d you stop?” she muttered, barely breathing now.

“I wasn’t ready for you to be done,” Jon said. “I want to tease you a little first.”

“Sweet fuck, haven’t you teased me enough?”

Jon laughed. “Nope, I’ve tasted you and I’ve fucked you, but haven’t really teased you yet.”

“Oh God,” Samantha moaned.

“No, baby, my name’s ‘Jon’.”

Samantha chuckled, her laughter ending on a choked sob when Jon slid a finger into her. “Damn, Samantha, you are so fucking tight.” He slowly started to work his finger in and out of her until it slid easily, then gently added a second, then a third. His tender ministrations were driving Samantha crazy.

“Harder,” she pleaded, raising her hips in time with Jon’s motions, trying to speed him up.

“Like this?” he asked, a moment before driving his hand into her hard.

“God, YES!” Samantha yelled. “More......”

Jon complied, pumping her hard and fast. He levered up on his other elbow to watch her face as the orgasm started to take her. The pulse point at her throat started to throb hard, and a pink flush crept over her skin. She caught her bottom lip in her teeth, and under her eyelids, he could see her eyes rolling back. He added a twisting motion to his hand, and Samantha’s eyes flew open, and she jack-knifed on the bed to a nearly sitting position before falling back again. Jon did it again, twisting his hand faster as he pumped her mercilessly. He could feel her tightening even more around his fingers as her muscles tried to expel him, but he was having none of it. He leaned down to take her clit in his mouth, and nibbled on it while his hand worked its magic.

Within moments, Samantha was clutching at Jon’s shoulder, almost begging him to stop. Then he sucked hard and spread his fingers inside her, and she shattered, crying Jon’s name before slumping bonelessly into oblivion. Jon looked up at her face. She wasn’t passed out, but close to. He withdrew from her body, chuckling at the whimper that slid through her lips. He pulled the covers up again and cuddled Samantha into his chest. Soon, they were drifting off to sleep.

When the first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, they hit Samantha square in the face. She had turned in the night, and Jon was spooned behind her, his right hand cupping her left breast. She could feel his semi-hard cock pushing into her ass, and shifted slightly on the bed to see if she could turn around without waking him.

She managed, and smiled at the picture he made. His hair was all rumpled, and she traced a gentle fingertip across the stubble on his cheek and jaw. Jon grumbled something unintelligible, and rolled over onto his back, an arm flung across his eyes. Samantha groaned at the view of his chest and the vee of his hipbones where they disappeared under the covers. She traced a gentle finger there, too, and Jon flinched in his sleep.

Chuckling, Samantha gently climbed out of bed and padded to the bathroom. She shut the door behind her quietly, turned on the light and gasped. She had finger-sized bruises on her hips. She touched them gently, then shuddered, remembering how they got there. She turned on the shower, running it hot, and stepped under the spray. Though she hated to, she knew she had to go to the seminar she was scheduled to attend that morning. If she didn’t, her board would find out, and they’d be pissed. They’d be even more pissed if they found out she’d spent the morning fucking a rock star instead. She laughed. Yeah, sure, like she’d ever tell.

She was lost in thought when she heard the bathroom door close. “Samantha, darlin’, why’d you get up?” He drew the curtain aside, and Samantha gasped at his erection. It was bigger than she remembered from last night, but she did have quite a bit of wine.

“I have a conference seminar I have to attend this morning, and you were sleeping so peacefully...” She trailed off as Jon stepped into the shower behind her, and shut the curtain. He reached in front of Samantha to take the shampoo and poured a small dollop into his hand. He worked it into a lather, and put his fingers to Samantha’s wet scalp. He massaged the sweet-scented soap into her hair, and it was all Sam could do to not slump back into Jon’s chest. She sighed.

When Jon was done, he turned Sam to face him, and tipped her head back to rinse the suds from her hair. The column of her throat was enticingly exposed, and Jon couldn’t help himself; he leaned in to lick at it. Samantha’s hands came up to rest on her forearms. Jon finished with Sam’s hair and he watched as his hands trailed down her neck and shoulders, over the gentle swell of her breasts to her waist, and stopped.

“Jesus, Sam, I’m so sorry!” Jon said, seeing the bruises. “You should have told me I hurt you.” He dropped to his knees and pressed kisses to the row of marks on each hip.

“Jon,” Samantha said, “it’s fine really.” She chuckled. “A souvenir of our night together.”

Jon stood and gathered Sam in close. “I never meant...”

Samantha silenced him with a kiss. “Shhhh, it’s alright.” She looked into his eyes, and smiled when he leaned down to kiss her again. Her small hand stroked down Jon’s chest and wrapped around his straining erection, stroking it in time with her tongue’s motion.

Growling, Jon turned Samantha so her back was plastered to his chest. He anchored her to him with one arm, positioning her so the needles of water hit her nipple. When she gasped, Jon lowered his other hand to her pussy, and stroked her clit. Sam’s eyes closed as she let herself succumb to the exquisite sensations assaulting her. Slowly, she began to undulate against Jon, rubbing her lower back against his erection. Jon worked his hand faster, making Sam move faster. Finally, just when Sam was just about to let go, Jon stopped. Sam whimpered her disapproval, and Jon kissed the side of her head and murmured, “sorry, baby.”

He reached out of the shower to the vanity counter top and took the condom he had left there. Sheathing himself, he bent Samantha at the waist, bracing her hands on the shower wall, and slowly pushed into her from behind. They both groaned in pleasure when Jon sped his motions. He caressed the line of Sam’s back, raising gooseflesh even though the bathroom was steamy warm. “God...” Jon moaned, as he felt her walls squeezing him tightly.

“No baby,” Sam said sweetly. “My name is ‘Samantha’.”

Jon laughed and swatted Sam’s ass with a sharp smack. Samantha moaned, and leaned back into him driving him deeper than before.

Jon smirked and pulled out nearly all the way, and drove into her hard, smacking her ass at the same time. Samantha mewled and arched her back, her eyes closed in pleasure. Over and over Jon withdrew almost completely and drove home with a powerful thrust, matching that with a hard slap. Sam’s cries were getting more plaintive, and Jon could feel that she was getting close to release. He reached around, intending to tease her clit, leaning over her to do so. The contact of his chest to her back set her off even before he touched her, and she slammed back hard into Jon, nearly sending him out of the shower.

Snarling, Jon grabbed Samantha’s hips and pounded at her, their bodies making loud slapping noises as Jon rushed toward his release. They came together with harmonious roars, and nearly slumped to the floor of the shower. After a few minutes, Jon gently disengaged and cleaned up the rubber. He turned Samantha back in his arms so they were chest-to-chest, and he took her loofah and bath wash and washed her back and shoulders. Sam was sure she could die a happy woman now.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

After a series of seminars that lasted all day, most of which Sam missed because she was reliving the night and morning’s activities over and over in her mind, she flew back to the hotel. Some of her associates had talked her into going to the Bon Jovi concert that night, and she was so glad that she decided not to give them the brush off. Neither she nor Jon exchanged last names, though she was pretty sure he knew that SHE knew who he was. Still, she couldn’t resist the idea of seeing him again.

When they left her room that morning, neither made the “let’s keep in touch” noises that would have made their encounter end uncomfortably. Both were more than satisfied with what had happened between them. Instead, they kissed tenderly in the elevator, and Jon walked her out to her cab and waved as she was driven away. Jon reached into his pocket and fingered the business card he had taken from Samantha’s open briefcase before joining her in the bathroom. He laughed when he saw that ‘Samantha’ was not her real name.

Jon went through the afternoon and sound check content in the knowledge that he could surprise ‘Samantha’ whenever he wanted to by simply showing up to where she worked or calling her cell. He thought about texting her that afternoon while she was at her seminar, but wanted to keep his knowledge of her true identity secret for a little longer.

When he took center stage for the show, his step faltered when he saw Samantha just off to his left, in front of Hughie’s bass. He smiled at her and winked, and she blew him a kiss.

Throughout the show Jon and Samantha flirted shamelessly. Winks, smiles, he even went so far as to blow a kiss in her general direction. She looked up at him, the tip of her petite pink tongue snaked out and she licked her lips before smiling at him. Jon closed his eyes and, with his hands on the mic stand, he dropped his face to his shoulder; she did not just do that. He got an idea. He indicated to the security guard to give her and her friends wrist bands for the fan pits. Bed of Roses was coming up in the song list and he wanted her close by.

When the intro to the song started there was an almost audible sigh in the arena. All the girls wanted a chance to dance with their rock god, but tonight Jon had eyes for only one woman. When Richie started the solo Jon sauntered over to where Sam was standing, grasped her hand and tugged her up on stage with him, “how about a dance baby?” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself against him.

As they moved in a slow circle, Sam’s fingers toyed with his hair as she kept her hips in line with his and she could feel him growing hard against her. His hand stroked up and down her back and, leaning in close he whispered in her ear “Samantha” his tongue snaked out and traced the shell of her ear, “I’m going to have a real problem if you keep doing that.” Her body trembled at the warmth of his breath and the touch of his tongue. She pulled her head back to see his face and just gave him an evil little smile as she pressed herself even tighter against him. She wanted him as aroused as she was at that moment. All the teasing had left her feeling restless and achy with need. When the solo came to an end Jon cupped her face with his hands and kissed her soundly and was rewarded with one last roll of her hips against him. He groaned as she headed back to the pit.

Looking across the stage Richie was smirking at him and his eyes flitted down Jon’s body and back again. Jon looked down and cringed. Shit. He hurriedly finished the song and turned to face Richie while speaking into the mic, “Richie, my brother, why don’t you sing our friends a song man?” Before Richie could say anything, Jon ran off stage and headed to the dressing area. He needed to change his shirt, his pants, something. He grabbed the dark blue button-down work shirt, it covered more than the one he just pulled off and tried to calm himself down. He meandered back out behind stage just as Richie was finishing, feeling somewhat more in control.

After the show was over he took the fastest shower he could remember taking. He just wanted to get back to the hotel, back to her. It was going to be a little while though before he could see her. There was always someone or something that needed his attention and then there was the party in the bar that he couldn’t skip out on. He’d make a brief stop before heading to the fifth floor.

Samantha and her friends had returned to the hotel and she left them in the bar to head to her room. As much as she wanted to see Jon again, she didn’t want it to be in front of a crowd of people. She couldn’t trust herself not to throw herself at him when he walked into the bar. She took a shower, letting her hands linger over her body, remembering what it was like to have his hands on her, wishing he was there now; wishing even more that she had gotten his suite number. Drying off she slipped her favorite silk nightshirt on and was just crawling into bed when she heard the quiet knock at the door.

Jon was standing on the other side of the door, wondering if she was even still awake. He had rushed through all the after show obligations and now, here he was, mere inches separating him from the woman who could ease the ache he had been feeling all night. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath and knocked.

Samantha opened the door and, seeing Jon standing there her face broke out in a smile.

Jon’s gaze roamed her up and down, “we meet again.”

Sam nodded, “so it seems.”

They stood there looking at each other for a long moment before Sam reached out and grabbed a handful of shirt, pulling Jon into the room and quietly closing the door behind him.