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Thank you for stopping by. This short story is complete.

I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I did thinking it up. Not that it's a hardship, dreaming of Jon :)

This story is complete.

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Chapter Eight

Shaking her head in amusement, Sophia locked the door behind Richie, and headed back toward the pool room. The three men were huddled together, deep in some serious conversation. What a sight those three make together, she thought. She took a mental snapshot to enjoy later, then cleared her throat to get their attention.

“Ready guys?” she asked Antonio and Lucien, who nodded.

“Sorry, boss,” Lucien said, as the pair walked over to her. “Just chatting with your new friend here, letting him know how you’re like our little sister, and we take protecting you very seriously.”

She unlocked the door at the back of the room, and led the trio through to the hall, and into the garage.

“I can take care of myself, but you’re sweet. Thanks for looking out for me.” Sophia gave each of them a kiss and shooed them into their car. As they climbed into the BMW, Sophia opened the door to let him out. She saw the taillights of what she assumed to be Richie’s rental fading off in the distance.

Once they were gone, she turned back to see Jon straddling her Harley. He was a mouth-watering sight in black and silver. Sophia hungrily absorbed every nuance of the scene in front of her. Jon had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing strong, corded forearms. Whew! He had a big shit-eating grin on his face, and was reverently skimming his hands over the chrome. He laughed softly when he saw the quote from his song on the tank.

Jon started when the garage door clattered shut, and his grin deepened and his eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her, enjoying the sight of him. “Great machine. Very sexy. How do you ride that thing in that dress and those shoes?”

Sophia chuckled, gave herself a little shake, and relaxed. She didn't realize just how nervous she was until now. She made her way over to the bike, caressing the handlebars. She smiled. “Thanks. I know, I think so, too. I don’t. I’m usually dressed in jeans and boots, which makes it easy. What do you think? Do you ride?” Stop babbling, you idiot!

Jon smiled at her response -- the way she answered all his questions, asked a few of her own, and got flustered in the process. “When I saw the Harley here, I had to touch it, to see how it felt under me. And baby, I do know how to ride.” His words made her shiver, but Jon was still staring appreciatively at the bike.

I'll just bet you do, darlin', Sophia thought.

Looking around the garage, Jon whistled. “Damn, baby, you sure do have some mighty powerful toys.” The “toys” in the garage were a dark purple 1970 Plymouth Road Runner, a screaming yellow 2005 Ford Mustang, and of course, the Harley.

Sophia looked around, quite pleased with herself. “The Plymouth was my Dad’s; I took it when he died. The ‘Stang was a present to myself when I opened this bar, and the Harley, hell, darlin’, that’s just for fun.” As she talked, Sophia walked around the garage, touching each one gently, lovingly.

When she looked up, she was rooted where she stood, frozen by what she read in Jon’s face. She blinked rapidly, and unconsciously licked her lips, making them shine. She took a hesitant step toward him, not trusting her own eyes. Jon quickly closed the distance between them and framed Sophia’s face with his hands. He leaned in, ready to kiss her.

Desire pooled low in Sophia’s body. She started to quiver as Jon’s long, strong fingers eased through her hair, caressing, taunting her. He pulled a lock forward, smelling it, closing his eyes as he inhaled the sweet, feminine perfume of her. “You smell like spring. Words escape me.” He chuckled, exquisitely raising one eyebrow, “and that doesn’t usually happen to me. Tell me, darlin’, just who is it that I’ve been enjoying all night? Nobody ever said your name. It’s always ‘Boss’ or ‘darlin’.” He eased closer to her, their lips just an inch apart, his hands on her shoulders.

“Sophia,” she whispered, barely loud enough to be heard, as she felt the straps of her dress fall from her shoulders. “My name is Sophia.”


fin

Chapter Seven

Finally, Lucien called out that the bar was closing. Sophia, hearing him, sighed and looked at the clock. It was nearly 2:00am. She reluctantly broke from Jon’s embrace. “Time for me to go back to work, darlin’. Gotta close up.” Her legs were unsteady as she took a step back from him. She swallowed hard at the lump in her throat. “Thanks for the dance. It was better than I imagined it could be. I may never dance with Lucien quite the same again.” She trailed her hand down his cheek, then ran from the room.

Jon walked over to one of the pool tables, and gripped the side so hard, he thought he’d break it. Holy shit, what a woman, he thought to himself.

As Sophia made her way from the back room, she saw the musicians packing up, and the last of her customers leaving, giving her appreciative looks and shy waves as they did. She thanked Will and the others for their help.

“Darlin’, it was our pleasure,” Noah replied. “We pretty much can’t wait to get home to wake up the girls and give them a taste of their own medicine.”

After they left, Sophia looked around at the empty room. Richie must have slipped into the back room to find his friend.

“You locking up, boss? Or do you want us to do it?” Antonio asked.

“I’ll take care of it, but I don’t think I’m ready yet. You two go on home. I’ll be OK. I don’t think anything bad is going to happen to me here tonight,” she responded.

Lucien arched an eyebrow at her. “If you say so, but you know you can call us if you need to, and we’ll come back and kick some ass.”

Sophia laughed. “I don’t think that will be necessary. I’ll walk you guys to the garage, so you can get your car. Grab me my keys?”

Lucien tossed her a key ring and came out from behind the bar. Sophia locked the front door behind the last patron, then joined her friends, walking, arm-in-arm, toward the back room.

“That was one hell of a show, sweetie. You sure got everyone riled up,” Antonio said. “And, I don’t think our special guests minded one little bit. I was watching them. Girl, you had them hooked!”

Sophia blushed for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. “I didn’t think I’d be able to go through with it with them here. I’m glad I did, though, it was pretty damn fun,” she replied. They went through the back room, noticing the pair playing pool. “I’ll be right back, guys, just have to get these two on their way.”

“I have to go too,” Richie piped up, glancing at his friend. “I’m beat.”

As soon as the last word was out of Richie’s mouth, Jon tossed the keys to the rental at him. “You take the car,” he said. “I’ll catch a cab, or…” he paused.

Sophia gulped. “I can give you a lift back to the hotel later,” she finished. “C’mon, Richie, let me walk you out.”

She led Richie back out through the bar to the front door. After she unlocked it, Richie caught her up in a hug. “Thanks for letting me play with your guys tonight. I had a blast.”

Sophia glowed. “The pleasure was truly all mine, darlin'.”

“And,” he continued, “I’m glad we stayed for your little performance. Although, with nobody waiting for me back at the hotel, I have a feeling I’m in for a very long, very cold shower tonight.”

Sophia laughed, putting a hand to the side of his face. “Darlin’, all you have to do is snap your fingers, and you’d have a trail of beauties following you anywhere you chose to go.”

“Can I snap them at you?” Richie asked. His eyes twinkled, and Sophia gaped at him like a fish out of water. “Just kidding,” he said, rescuing her. “My buddy in there had his eye on you since we pulled up out front and he saw you sawing on that fiddle. No way I’m getting in his way.”

Sophia smiled, and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You’re sweet,” she said.

At the last second, Richie turned his face, landing her kiss on his mouth. “Now you can fantasize about me, too,” he laughed. “And, I can tell him I kissed you first!”

Chapter Six

Sophia was holed up in the back room, with her back to the door, trembling. That was incredible. She had never felt such power – had never enjoyed herself more. Then she had a sobering thought. While it looked like Richie enjoyed himself, playing along with the game, she couldn’t read Jon. She started pacing. Was he offended? Or worse, disgusted? Sophia groaned. Oh well; what’s done is done.

She heard someone enter the room behind her, and thinking it was Lucien, said, with a shaky voice, “What a night! I couldn’t have asked for a better anniversary. I can’t believe those two came in! That I got to play guitar and sing with Richie Sambora and share drinks with Jon Bon Jovi! AND, they both stayed for my little performance. What a rush. I hope they don’t think I’m a nut or something. What did you think?” She turned around, and nearly fainted at the sight of Jon in her doorway, his breathing ragged, his eyes piercing her, shining a deep midnight blue.

“I think I’d like to have the next dance,” he said. “Dance with me?”

Sophia just stared. Out in the bar, the band had started up another Bon Jovi ballad, continuing their tribute.

“Please, take my hand,” Jon implored, stretching a hand to her in invitation.

Sophia waited another three heartbeats, then, trembling, reached out to take Jon’s hand. His fingers were remarkably soft and smooth, considering how much time he spent playing his guitar. She expected calluses. Jon stepped backward, gently leading her. He drew her in close to him, fitting them together, enveloping himself in her scent. He pulled her closer and pushed a stray lock of hair from her face, and nearly groaned at the feel of it.

Jon whispered in her ear, “Come on, baby, I’ve seen you move; I want to really dance with you. Close your eyes, and let yourself go. Pretend I’m your friend out there...”

Sophie took a steadying breath. What the hell, she thought; I’ve already told him my dark secrets, and I’ll never be with him like this again after tonight. “Actually, when I was dancing with Luce, darlin’,” she whispered, “I was pretending he was you. All of that out there, all of what you saw, was all you. For you, about you, to you. I’ve been fantasizing about you for years, darlin’.”

Jon smiled his megawatt smile. Sophia’s face turned red again. “Is that a fact,” Jon drawled. His arms tightened around her, sliding along the silky fabric of her dress. “Let’s see if this reality matches your fantasy.”

They didn’t speak again. All through that song, and the next, and the next, they danced.

Chapter Five

Sophia came back down a half hour later wrapped in a black hooded cloak, which hung to the floor. She had adjusted her makeup to full-on glam. Her open-toed, silver shoes peeped out from under the cloak as she walked. She clicked her way to the stage, and a hush fell over the room. It’s now or never. She took a deep breath, and approached the microphone.

“Lucien, darlin’, dim the house lights and the kill this mic, would ya? Just give me the overhead. I need my hands free.” Once it was done, she addressed the room. “Are y’all ready for me to keep my promise?”

There were catcalls and other affirmations from her guests, which made her chuckle sexily. “All right, here we go.”

Sophia lowered her voice to a sexy rasp. “For those of you who weren’t here last week, I was asked by several of my regulars just what it is about Bon Jovi that gets their women all hot and bothered. I thought that I’d just try to explain it to you tonight, in a way you can understand it.” A few people in the audience whistled.

She looked down into the faces in front of her, grateful for the dim lighting and shadows. She knew if she could clearly make out any of their expressions, she’d lose her nerve, not go as far as she had planned.

“Noah, Grant, give me some sexy jazz. The rest of y’all, go have a seat.” Noah and Grant waited until the others left the stage, then started a soft, slow, sexy sax tune wafting through the room. More whistles from the crowd. Sophia closed her eyes, and writhed to the music.

Richie came back to join Jon, who had settled back into his booth, beer in hand. Both of them were smiling broadly. They had just enough ego to want to hear a sexy story about themselves. Whatever she had in store, the men in the audience were riveted. It had to do with the cloak, those sexy shoes and little red toenails peeking out from underneath. Hell, this was going to be fun. The two exchanged amused glances then turned their attention back to the stage.

Eyes still shut, Sophia began to speak softly, seductively. “Imagine, an arena filled with thousands of people, buzzing with excitement. The house lights go down, and the music starts. We hear Richie’s guitar filling the night. The deep quivering in our souls, in our very core starts. We know that we are about to experience something amazing. Something we will remember for the rest of our lives. Ladies, you’ve seen him here tonight, heard him, watched his beautiful, talented hands move. Who among you out there tonight didn’t fantasize about being the instrument he played with those exquisite fingers?”

The women in the audience called out their agreement, and looked over to where Richie and Jon were sitting. Richie gave the crowd a rakish grin and a little wiggle of his fingers, and the women all sighed dramatically, batting their eyes.

Jon rolled his eyes at the antics. “Grow up, asshole,” he laughed.

“Screw you,” Richie responded, laughing himself.

Sophia continued her lesson. “Now that Richie has our blood flowing, Jon takes the stage. The first glimpse of blond over blue takes our breath away. Baby, when he smiles, it’s like Christmas mornin’. Doesn’t matter how far from the stage we are, we feel the heat of his gaze on us, and are quaking with the anticipation of what is to come. His mouth is mesmerizing, hypnotizing us, and fueling our fantasies. We all imagine what it would taste like, what it would feel like pressed against our throats.”

Jon’s mouth went dry. Damn.

Sophia opened her eyes to wink in Jon’s direction. “Once we can drag our eyes from his mouth, we feast our eyes on his hair.” Sophia spun around to show her back to the audience, her cloak billowing out to give a glimpse of silver beneath. She dropped her hood to reveal an intricate hairdo held together by chopsticks. She slowly raised her arms, and eased the sticks out of her hair, one at a time, dropping them to the stage floor. Giant, glossy, chestnut-colored curls rolled down her neck, ending halfway down her back. She put her hands to her head, threading the tresses between her fingers and rubbing her scalp and groaning softly, lolling her head from side to side.

Richie glanced at Jon. His friend was clearly sucked in to the tale – or maybe it was the teller. Damn, why do the interesting ones all want Jon? He shook his head ruefully, and turned back to the stage.

Sophia had lowered her voice to a whisper, and groaned. “All that glorious, thick hair. We imagine ourselves pushing our fingers through that honey-colored heaven. Feeling its weight, its silky texture. We imagine grabbing hold of his hair, gently pulling him in for a kiss -- a kiss on that perfectly sinful mouth.”

Jon sat forward. His pants were now uncomfortably tight. He bet he wasn’t the only one suffering that particular affliction right about now. He scanned the room. From what he could see, nobody was breathing. Even the musicians on the stage were having trouble not getting lost in the story. Damn, she's good. Richie caught Jon’s eye and raised his eyebrows, mouthing “Holy shit”. Jon exhaled sharply.

“Then, there’s the skin he shows.” Sophia allowed the cloak to fall from her now bare shoulders, catching it as it dropped to her waist. There was a soft gasp in the audience, and Sophia smiled to herself. I’ve got them. The back of her gown plunged down below where the cloak was trapped, and was held up by a web of shimmery silver threads. She continued to sway to the music, once again addressing the men in the crowd. “Seeing that sliver of chest drives us wild.” She turned around slowly, showing the front of her gown. It plunged low, barely clinging to her breasts, showing her own sliver of chest.

“We all imagine what it would feel like to slip our fingers inside his shirt, and skim our blood-red nails lightly against that hard, muscular body.” She trailed her own crimson fingernails down the strip of skin she was showing, biting her bottom lip, then licking it. She shivered. “And we imagine what he would taste like.” She completed her pirouette, once again turning her back to the crowd. She continued her seductive swaying.

Richie smothered a laugh. “Shit, man, she’s good at this. Look at you. You’re loving every minute of this, aren’t you, you egotistical bastard?”

“Shut up. I’m trying to hear the lady,” Jon retorted, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“Then, we seek out the ink,” Sophia said, as she dropped the cloak a little more, revealing a tattoo at the small of her back – a heart with a dagger through it, “on his strong, muscular shoulders. Ooh, they’re so very sexy. We imagine raising our hands to grip those strong shoulders while he's kissing us; to keep us from melting at his feet.”

Sophia took a steadying breath, and said “Then there’s that ass,” as she dropped the cloak altogether. The gown she had chosen tonight was the silver-white color of a full moon, and she wasn’t wearing anything beneath. The gown clung to her provocatively. This is why I have a gym upstairs, she thought. She knew that with the lighting set this way, she looked nearly naked. It was exactly the effect she was going for. She rubbed her own hands slowly over her body, writhing as if in the throes of passion.

Sophia looked over her shoulder, and nodded imperceptibly to Will and Matt. They came up on stage, taking their positions. Sophia whispered once more, still looking over her shoulder. “Finally, and most devastatingly, there’s the music, the words.”

Jon recognized the sexy, sultry opening bars of a song from one of their lesser-known cuts as it filled the room. Sophia turned, once again facing the audience. “Those words that rip into us, touch us in our hearts, at our cores. We are filled with thoughts of love, lust, passion, and good ol’ raunchy sex. The music is the backdrop for our undoing.”

Sophia looked in Jon’s direction. He swallowed thickly. He knew the song; remembered every word, and knew what was coming. He couldn’t move now if the building was on fire.

Richie laughed softly, watching him. “Oh man, you’re screwed,” he said. Jon shut him up with a look.

Sophia began to sing, her voice gravelly with passion.

When I look in your eyes I can feel the fire.
A see through disguise can't conceal desire
I've been reading your lips, they don't need no translation
They want more than a kiss, I come to make my donation

So turn out the lights, I'm going down slowly.
Don't tell me what's right. Just tell me you want me.

The heat in her voice was unmistakable. Jon briefly closed his eyes, letting her voice wash over him. Richie had his eyes closed, and was swaying in time with the music, breathing hard, almost moaning. Jon opened his eyes and threw a punch at him. “Cut that out,” he growled. “I don’t need to see that.”

Richie grinned back. “It’s either that, or you have to watch me jack off right here.”

“Shit,” Jon said. “Never mind.” He looked back at the stage.

Come, come, come a little bit closer
I want to play doctor.
It keeps getting harder, harder, harder to keep me away

She locked eyes with Jon for delivery of the last lines before the chorus.

I want to taste the sweat that’s running' off of your body.
Get the sheets all wet, I wanna make you feel naughty

When the lyrics faded out, all that was left was the music. Sophia looked over to Lucien, who had a grin a mile wide on his face. Time to be teacher’s pet, he thought, and the envy of nearly every man here.

Sophia held out her hand to him, silently beckoning. With a glance back at Antonio, he vaulted the bar, and made his way to the stage, lifting Sophia down gently. Sophia swayed to the music, wrapping herself around Lucien like a stripper’s pole, reveling in the music, Lucien’s strong arms, and what she imagined the audience was thinking.

Raising her arms over her head, she started moving sensually against him. The pair had been dancing together for years, and were completely comfortable in each other’s arms. Lucien spun her around, grabbing her waist from behind, and pulled her in close, held her tight. She melted back against Lucien’s chest, letting him support her weight. They swayed to the intoxicating rhythm, Lucien with his hands in Sophia’s hair, massaging her scalp. Sophia’s hands were high on Lucien’s thighs, gripping lightly. She let her gaze linger on Jon before closing her eyes and losing herself in the music.

When the music ended, she turned to Lucien and slowly put her fingers into her hair. With a breathy moan, she tugged his face toward hers, and gave him a light kiss on the lips. The room was completely silent, except for some very ragged breathing.

Sophia then turned to face the crowd. “And that, gentlemen, is why we get the way we do when those boys over there,” she gestured in the direction of the boys in question, “do what they do.” She made a deep curtsy, and left the room.

All at once, the room exploded in a cacophony of shouts, whistles, groans, and assorted other appreciative noises. Lucien went back to the bar, turned the lights back on and asked for Last Call. He and Antonio pulled several drafts, knowing the men in here tonight were going to need it.

Chapter Four

“Not the reaction we usually, get,” Jon grinned at her.

Blushing, Sophia tried to pull herself together. “Damn, darlin’, sorry about that. Welcome to Breathe. What brings y’all out tonight?”

Jon answered, “The concierge at the hotel recommended this place as an out-of-the way joint. Now, I’ve gotta admit, it was so full, we nearly kept going. You had us hooked with your fancy fiddle playin’. But we were intrigued by this education you’re promising.” He was giving her the once-over. She felt his gaze rake over her and her heart thumped loudly in her chest.

Richie winked at her. “Actually I think Jon was hooked on your tight body, but hey, what do I know?” Jon glared at him, but Richie just laughed it off. “Hey, I’d like a run at the next set, if it’s alright with you,” he motioned to the stage. “Your friends up there aren’t doing too bad with our music, and I brought my Strat,” he said, showing her his guitar case. “Although, I wouldn’t mind taking a spin on your Gretch there.”

Still blushing, Sophia answered, “Of course, you’re more than welcome to help yourself, darlin’; we’d be honored.” Damn, girl, snap out of it. She turned to Jon. “What about you? Y’all need anything? Or are ya content to just hang out here?”

“I need to see what’s under that hat,” he said before he could stop himself. Richie cackled and punched Jon in the arm before heading toward the stage with his beer and guitar.

Sophia just stared, then burst out laughing. “Darlin’, ya had me going there.”

Jon chuckled himself. “Damn, sorry, about that. Don’t know what got hold of me there. No, I’m good. I think I’ll just listen for a while.”

Sophia got herself under control. “All right. Y’all just signal one of us over at the bar there if you need anything.”

Lucien was watching the interaction. Once the pair of men removed their sunglasses, he could tell who the two were. It looked like the others in the bar were beginning to realize who they were, too. Nobody got up to bother them, however. The crowd was preoccupied with the show yet to come. At one point, Lucien saw Sophia flinch and was getting ready to intervene, but he backed off when he saw her laughing and turn to leave the table.

When Sophia got back to the bar, Antonio leaned over. “Boss, you’ve got to see what’s going on up on stage; Will’s in need of some help.”

She turned around, seeing the look on Will’s face as he shook hands with Richie. He was awe-struck. Sambora was one of his idols. Smiling, she went up to the stage. Sophia whispered something in Will’s ear that made him laugh, and seemed to shake him out of his stupor.

Richie was quietly warming up on her 12-string. “Nice instrument,” he said to her. “How long you been playing?”

“Seems like all my life,” she replied, smiling wistfully, her eyes misting slightly.

Sophia had been strumming and singing as long as she could remember. Her father had had a love for good guitar music, and she had grown up listening to Hendrix, Townshend, Page, Clapton, and other masters of the axe. She introduced her father to her discovery of Richie in he 80’s, and he grudgingly agreed that this long-haired kid was pretty damn good. She and her dad had played together all the time, and she missed that; she missed him.

“Sorry, baby, didn’t mean to make you sad,” Richie said, looking sheepish.

“Not sad, darlin’; just reflecting on a happy memory. C’mon, let’s make another – let’s play.”

With that, she picked up her own Strat, and started playing the introduction to an immediately recognizable Eagles tune. The crowd gathered in the bar applauded, and she stopped, taking a mock bow. She addressed the audience. “This is one of my favorite songs for the guitar, as y’all know!” The crowd laughed along with her. “Tonight, we’re honored to be joined on stage by one of the true masters of his craft, Richie Sambora. If he’d consent, I’d love to do this one with him.” Richie nodded, the crowd cheered, and the pair started to play.

Sophia and Richie sang in perfect harmony. They played together as if they’d done it all their lives. The rest of the group on stage stayed silent, just listening to the magic happen, though he could see some of their hands twitching - they wanted to play. Jon could relate; he felt himself itching to join them onstage when he tuned in to her voice again, which was pure and clear:

There she stood in the doorway;
I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself,
this could be heaven or this could be hell
Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor,
I thought I heard them say

After they finished that song, Sophia shook Richie’s hand and begged off playing another song. She left the stage to the guys, who eased into a Clint Black standard.

Goddamn, what a night. Sophia couldn’t believe she had been playing guitar and singing with one of the most gifted musicians she’s ever met. Not to mention being watched by that other fabulous man in her audience. She let her gaze stray to where he sat. He was still looking at her. Sophia turned away, fanning her face with her hand. How the hell am I going to get through the 1am set with these two hanging around?

With a sigh, and a straightening of her shoulders, suck it up sweetheart, Sophia made her way back to the bar. She had Antonio pour her a glass of wine from the private stock she kept hidden behind the bar. She slid up onto a stool and glanced over to the booth where Jon was sitting. He was watching her, so she raised her glass in salute. He raised his own glass, which was nearly empty, she noticed, and signaled for her to join him. She nodded at him, and had one of the boys pull another draft.

“Special treatment for the celeb, boss?” Antonio teased.

“Can it, babe,” she retorted, with a smile. Beer in hand, she turned from the bar. Under her breath, she muttered, “Here’s to a night I’ll never forget.” Shaking, she made her way across the room again.

“Can you sit a minute? I want to ask you something,” he asked. She set the beer down in front of him, and sat across from him, leaning in to hear him better. And, to get a closer look at him. Damn, what a fine, fine looking man. His eyes were sparkling blue; a clearer blue than the Texas sky. Tiny laugh lines crinkled in the corners of his eyes, making him look even sexier, if that was even possible. She saw his mouth moving, but missed what he said. She was lost in the sexy grin, gravelly voice, and beautiful mouth forming words. Words! Shit!

“Sorry, what was that?” she asked.

“I said thanks for the refill, and asked what you said to your friend up there to made him laugh so hard.” Jon was grinning, noticing her star-struck expression. On her, it was cute, not creepy.

Sophia smiled at the memory. “I just told him to remember that Richie probably pisses on his boots when he’s drunk, just like the rest of them, and to relax. Don’t know if it’s true or not, but it did the trick for Will.”

Jon laughed a deep, throaty laugh that sent strange little shocks through Sophia’s body. “That’s priceless,” he said. They settled in to listen to the music, chatting a little about the guys in the band and how they all met and stayed together through the years. She mentioned that their women were all at the concert last night, and thanked him on their behalf for the wild night they had afterwards.

Lucien came over at 12:30. “Boss, you wanna go get ready for your 1am set?”

Sophia wasn’t sure. Should she keep her promise to her regulars, or err on the side of caution, given who her surprise guests were. After a minute, she nodded.

Jon winged an exquisite eyebrow. “Yeah, so what’s so damn special about this 1am set? What is this ‘education’ thing? Even the concierge at the hotel is talking about it.”

Sophia blushed. She seemed to be doing that a lot tonight. “If you must know, I promised my regulars – the men anyway – to explain to them why their women are all hot and bothered after one of your shows. Don’t know if that’s something y’all need to hang around for. You’re welcome to stay, of course. Just don’t think I’m crazy, or anything, darlin’. The boys I had this planned long before y’all came in here tonight.”

Jon laughed, smiling widely. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’ve got to hear this.”

Sophia grinned back at him. Damn, but he has a heart-breaking smile. “All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya. I’ve gotta go get ready. Hold on to your hat, darlin’.” With that, she tipped her hat to him and left the room, going through the pool room to the staircase that led to her apartments above the bar.

Chapter Three

They heard a sexy female voice telling Johnny’s story, and they were captivated as soon as they passed through the bar’s door.

The devil opened up his case
And he said “I'll start this show”
And fire flew from his fingertips
As he rosined up his bow

Then he pulled the bow across the strings,
And it made a evil hiss
And a band of demons joined in
And it sounded something like this.

The woman on the stage knew how to make the story in the lyrics real. She had a beautiful fiddle in her hands, and her fingers were flying up the bridge of the instrument, and her bow was sawing to beat the band. Her head was bent over the instrument, and her eyes closed, as she moved in time with the music. The pair exchanged a glance, as they slipped into the last open booth at the back of the room, then fixed their eyes back on the beauty on the stage.

When the devil finished, Johnny said,
“Well you're pretty good old son --
But sit down in that chair right there
And let me show you how it's done!”

Fire on the Mountain run boys, run
The devil's in the House of the Rising Sun
Chicken in a bread pan pickin' out dough
Granny does your dog bite? No child, no

As Sophia got into the fiddle licks, the audience was right there with her, clapping their hands and stomping their feet. The feeling of power, the rush of the storytelling, was as addictive as any drug. Very much into the music, Sophia barely registered the two newcomers entering the bar. She got a vague impression of two good-looking cowboys, walking with confidence. The musician in her noticed that one of them carried a guitar case. She didn’t recognize either of them as they ducked into a booth on the far side of the room. She threw them a wink and a sassy grin, and continued to tell her tale to the audience, making eye contact with those who were watching her.

The devil bowed his head
Because he knew that he'd been beat
And he laid that golden fiddle
On the ground at Johnny's feet

Johnny said, “Devil just come on back
If you ever wanna try again.
I done told you once you son of a bitch,
I'm the best there's ever been.”

The crowd was hooting and hollering, in true cowboy style, as Sophia continued to blaze on her fiddle. Jon and Richie found themselves joining in. So much for keeping a low profile. The song was over before they knew it, and they were on their feet with everyone else, showing their appreciation.

She sure knows how to lure in the crowd – she’s a natural, Jon thought.

Sophia made a small bow, and spoke to the crowd. “Thanks, y’all, that was really fun. I’m gonna head back behind the bar for a while.” She lowered her voice, making it soft and sultry. “Y’all enjoy the boys here, and I’ll be back in a bit to educate you, as promised.” The men cheered.

Jon frowned, puzzled, then remembered what the concierge had told him earlier. He shrugged. They’d probably stick around – nobody seemed to be bothering them, and the music was alright so far. And, I could watch and listen to her all night.

Smiling, Sophia stepped down from the stage, and walked back towards the bar. In one fluid motion, she hoisted herself up on the bar, spun around, and dropped down behind it. The band on stage had started in on a deep-cut Bon Jovi tune, Love for Sale, teasing the audience with a reminder of the promise yet to be fulfilled. Sophia smiled and saluted them with two fingers to the brim of her hat. The song had the crowd shifting in their seats. Listening to the music for a moment, she reflected that Will was truly a master on the harmonica. Sounded almost as good as Richie himself.

She worked companionably alongside her friends behind the bar, chatting and flirting with her regulars. Lucien tapped her shoulder, and nodded toward the booth where the two newcomers had been seated. “Looks like we have some new blood in here tonight.”

Sophia followed his nod and looked at the pair, who were talking and gesturing at each other. She noticed the pair was wearing dark sunglasses. “Word of my ‘class’ must have traveled. I don’t know what the movie star thing is all about, though. Honestly, sunglasses at night? Anyway, I’ll take care of ‘em, Luce,” she said, patting his arm.

Lucien grinned. “Just give a holler if they give you any trouble, boss.” At 6’6” with long, shaggy, jet-black hair, sapphire-blue eyes (compliments of tinted contact lenses), and biceps as big around as her head, he was sometimes called upon him from time to time to protect her from overzealous patrons.

She didn’t think these two would be a problem, though – they looked more sexy than rough. Way too sexy. Good Lord. Lucien may have to rescue them from me.

Luce handed her over the bar yet again. Sophia smoothed down her vest, and took a quick mental inventory. She knew that she was a woman that more than one man would take a second look at. Sparkling jade eyes, trim waist, and long, slim legs, made quite a first impression. Her long, lustrous, chestnut-shot-through-with-gold hair was currently swept up under her trademark straw cowboy hat. Tonight, her hat was adorned with a black scarf, to match her scuffed and well-worn Tony Ramas. Tonight, the tight, faded jeans and vest showed her figure to the best advantage; fitting like a second skin. I wonder if they’ll stay for the late set, she thought, smiling to herself, as she took a couple of drafts and a bowl of nuts to the newcomers.

Jon and Richie watched her approach. She all but flowed through the rough-and-ready crowd. More than one of the men checked her out as she passed. A couple of times, she stopped to chat briefly with a customer, but steadily continued making her way toward their booth.

As she arrived at the table, she set the tray down, and served the beer. “Rule is, first beer is hand-delivered, and on the house for new meat. After that, y’all are on your own. I haven’t seen ya around here before; where y’all hail from?”

The two looked at each other, grinned, and removed their sunglasses to answer her question.

“Jersey,” Richie said.

“Holy shit,” Sophia whispered under her breath.

Chapter Two

Jon stood in the middle of the his suite at Turtle Creek, impatient, and ready to go out. He was dressed casually, in skin-tight black jeans, a silk shirt the color of moonlight, and well-worn cowboy boots. Jon checked his watch, and stalked from the room. He pounded on the door across the hall.

“C’mon, man, step it up. I wanna get out of here,” Jon grouched.

“Shut up, asshole, I’m coming,” was the reply from behind the door. He and Richie had been friends for so long, neither one could really remember a time when they weren’t. They were as close as brothers, and bickered like they were.

Last night’s show was the last in this leg of the tour. It was a fantastic night; Jon felt it was the best show of the band’s summer tour so far. They had all sounded great, and the chemistry with the audience was perfect. The band had two weeks off, and then would head to Seattle for the final leg of the tour. Everyone was planning to head home for some R&R before heading back out on the road. Tico and Dave had already left, along with the crew.

Jon and Richie were in no hurry to get back to their respective empty homes. Dot and her new husband had taken the kids to Australia for the summer. Richie’s daughter was spending the summer in Milan, doing some modeling. Even after weeks on the road, with all the noise and crowds, neither was ready for the oppressive silence of an empty home.

Tonight, the pair were staring their own, unofficial tour of local joints – looking for an out-of-the way place to go unwind and have a few drinks, maybe where Richie can jam some with the local talent to relax.

The bar at the hotel was great, but there were always those fans that knew where the band liked to stay, and staked the place out. The throngs of people downstairs hadn’t thinned any, and the pair wasn’t in the mood for autographs and fake smiles.

The concierge told Jon about a place several blocks away that sounded like it had just what they was looking for. It was called Breathe, and on Tuesday nights, there was a half-way decent band of locals that did some good cover tunes. He had hinted that the two of them may want to be sure to check it out tonight. “You’ll sure get an education,” he said with a smirk.

Richie finally emerged from the depths of his room, decked out in blue denim and black leather. Two of them got into the service elevator, which took them to the kitchen. They were able to slip out the back, and into the rental without being seen. Jon slipped in behind the wheel, and took off; following the directions he was given.

Ten minutes later, as the Navigator rounded the final corner, Jon and Richie could hear the strains of a fiddle playing a familiar song, and he smiled to himself. Damn, he thought, I do love that song. In the middle of the block was a single window glowing with light. That must be the place. He slowed down, nearly stopping out front. He glanced up at the sign. It was the bar all right, and its full name was a line out of one of the band’s recent hits. The smile faded. Great. All he needed was to try to slip into a bar owned by a groupie unnoticed. He sighed, intending to keep on driving.

Then he saw her, and jammed the brakes.

Richie swore. “Hey, watch it, asshole,” he grumbled.

“Sorry, man,” came the distracted reply.

A woman wearing painted on blue jeans, a beaded vest, and battered cowboy hat was doing sweet justice to a Charlie Daniels classic. Her fingers flew across the fiddle as she bent and swayed to the music. She looked like she was having fun performing for the crowd. Jon could relate.

“Hey, dickhead, are we going inside or not?” Richie asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jon replied.

“Shit, man I might even jam with them. They sound pretty good,” Richie said, squinting through the window into the bar.

“The guy at the hotel did say they were OK,” Jon said.

Richie took a closer look at the woman playing the fiddle, and whistled. “Hell, I may even make a run at that delectable creature playing the fiddle. I’d love to see what magic those fingers could work on my …”

“Screw you; I saw her first,” Jon grumbled. They often entered into friendly competition for the attention of a beautiful woman.

They made their way to a parking spot in front of what looked like someone’s garage. They jumped out of the car, Richie grabbing his ever-present guitar case, and made for the door.

Chapter One

God, I love this place, Sophia thought to herself. On its first year anniversary, Don’t Forget To Breathe (which her regulars just called “Breathe”) was finally coming into its own. The bar was her dream, and at 37, she had finally achieved it. Breathe was a bit off the beaten track, so it wasn’t over-crowded, but she did a good business. Her working-class customers ranged from the accidental – those who were looking for a different place, got lost, and wound up at Breathe – to those who sought out the low-key, relaxed atmosphere Sophia herself enjoyed.

She smiled to herself as she wiped down the mahogany bar, surveying her domain. Soulful country music spilled from the speakers that were strategically placed around her rooms. Everything, from the brass rails, to the dartboards and pool tables in the back room, to the tables and cozy booths that ran the length of the place; they were all hers. In fact, she owned the whole building. The bay next door was her garage, housing all her “toys”; the most recent of which was her pride and joy -- a new Harley Sportster. The two floors above the bar were her home: living space on the top floor, an extensive gym in the middle.

Sophia had spent hours with the Harley folks customizing her bike. All that black and chrome made her mouth water – she thought there was nothing sexier. She had a phrase from one of her favorite Bon Jovi songs painted in silver on the gas tank, in a flowing script: “I’m a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride”. Every time she straddled the powerful machine, she read the words and smiled, running her fingers lightly over the lyric. The Harley was by far the favorite addition to her collection.

She turned to watch her bartenders, Lucien and Antonio, interact with the crowd. The pair -- both gorgeous, tanned, and buff -- had been together for more than five years; they’d had been with Sophia at Breathe since the day it opened. She felt the place was as much theirs as it was hers. The three had become friends in college, after an embarrassing episode where she had vigorously pursued Lucien, only to find she wasn’t his type. Really wasn’t his type. She sighed. The good ones are either gay or married, she thought to herself.

Sophia let her gaze drift to the stage set up in one corner of the room. An old, upright piano graced one side of the stage. Well-loved drums stood in the middle o the stage. On the other side, her Gretch 12-string sat on its stand alongside the Fender Strat and the black Cecilio fiddle she loved to play. Playing music was a release for her, whether it was her own or someone else’s.

She checked the clock. 11:30. Tonight, she had her own “band” coming in to play. She was so excited, she could hardly stand it. Being her own boss had its definite perks; she could pretty much pick up and play whenever she wanted. She usually waited for Tuesdays, when her musician friends came in. As if her thoughts conjured them, the door opened, and “her guys” as she liked to call them came sauntering in.

Will, who often sang with her, came in with his harmonica in hand. Noah and Michael, the drummer and piano man, came in behind him. Bringing up the rear was Grant, who brought his sax as requested, and Matt, who played guitar,. The good-looking group was turning heads on their own, as they joined Sophia at the bar.

The group had been getting together off and on since they met while making the rounds in clubs that had open mic nights. They had been together for so long, they felt like family – her own band of brothers. Now that she had her own place, they came by every week just to unwind and play. Their wives and girlfriends still came with them once in a while, but tonight, the guys were on their own.

“Where are the girls?” Sophia asked.

The guys collected their pre-set beers, and to leaned over and greet Sophia with hugs and kisses. “They’re still worn out from the concert last night,” Will, answered.

“We’re nearly worn out, too. That band sure does whip them into a frenzy,” Matt, added. “They came home all hot and bothered, I for one didn’t get much sleep. I just don’t get the appeal, but hell, I’m not going to complain about it. That’s the wildest I’ve seen Emily in a long time.” The girls had all gone to the Bon Jovi concert the night before.

“Too much information, Matt”, Sophia smiled. She finished pulling them each a draft, and shooed them toward the stage. “Y’all just shut up and get your asses up there, I’ll be up in a minute. Later, you’ll see just why and how the hot and bothered thing happens.”

They all whistled at her as they made their way to the stage. The group had planned a mini-tribute to Bon Jovi tonight, in honor of their recent concert, and had announced it at the end of the set they played last week. They had also announced that the men who came would get their Bon Jovi education from a woman who could make it worth their while. Sophia had everything all planned out, and was smiling mischievously. The bar was nearly full – mostly men, but she saw a few women she knew – they came to help boost her courage. Perfect, she thought, the guys sure will get an education tonight, and the ladies will all benefit later.

The door opened, and another group came in, people she recognized as coming in each week for the music. “Did we miss the lesson you promised?” one called over. Sophia laughed and shook her head.

“Not yet. We need to warm up first, darlin’,” she called back. Speaking of that, may as well get this show on the road.

Sophia asked Lucien, “Got the bar, Luce?”

“Sure thing, boss,” he replied, with a wink. He lifted Sophia so she could sit on the bar, and she swung her legs around so she could get out into the room.

Sophia made her way to the stage, shaking hands and greeting her regulars as she went. She confirmed with the few quiet queries that there was indeed a “class in Bon Jovi lust” happening later. There was an extra sway in her step as she hopped up onto the stage and flipped on the mic. “We’re just gonna be a couple of minutes while we get ourselves tuned up. Y’all have another beer, and we’ll be right with you. The lesson we promised is scheduled for 1am, if y’all can wait that long.” Just over an hour to go.

Sophia hopped down from the stage, went to the front door, and propped it open. She liked the idea of her music pouring out into the warm Texas night. The business district was quiet at night, and there were no neighbors to complain about the music. As she walked back to the stage, the group got tuned up, and ran through some warm ups. Sophia picked up the fiddle, and started in on “The Devil Went Down To Georgia,” one of her favorite songs to perform. The guys joined in, and they sounded great.