by JB Salsbury
I try not to imagine it’s Jesse on stage but find it impossible. I imagine his tall, lean body moving to the music while his raspy voice fills the eighteen-thousand-seat arena. The band on stage now, I’ve heard them on the radio a few times—back before I swore off music all together—and they’ve got nothing on Jesse.
We sway in our seats to the music, and Elliot seems completely engrossed. The seats around us fill up as the VIP section gears up for JT.
“Shouldn’t be too long now!” I yell to Elliot over the music, and she nods.
Finally the band announces their last song. The crowd is much thicker now and roars when the last note rings through the cavernous space.
“Thank you!”
The lights on the stage go dark.
“What are they doing now?” Elliot asks.
“Now they have to set up the stage for Justin Timberlake.”
Elliot gets antsy, so I let her run around the gated-off VIP section, climbing on the railing and scooting around it.
Ten minutes pass before the strum of an electric guitar explodes through the speakers. Elliot whips her eyes to the stage, and the arena erupts in applause.
“I’m sorry,” comes a voice through the speakers, and my skin buzzes in awareness. “I couldn’t think of another way to get you to hear me out.”
My pulse speeds and my stomach turns. “Oh my…”
A single spotlight drops to the middle of the stage and—
“Jesse!” Elliot jumps up and down, clapping.
The walls of the arena practically crack with the force of the answering roar.
“Wow,” he says and shines his million-dollar smile around the arena. “Wasn’t expecting that, thank you.”
The crowd discharges another deafening blast of applause.
The rumble of his chuckle pours through the speakers like warm honey. “Thank you guys so much, but uh…”
Everyone’s screaming so loud, I’m tempted to cover my ears, but I don’t want to miss what he has to say. Why is he here?
He laughs again. “I could really use your help. There’s uh… there’s something I came to say. Could I get a little more light in the VIP section?”
A blast of light shines on our section, making it look like daylight. The crowd eventually quiets enough for him to be heard.
His eyes come directly to me as if he knew right where I’d be sitting. A soft smile curves his lips. “God, I’ve missed looking at you.”
“I’m gonna throw up,” I say to myself.
“No.” His eyes widen. “Please don’t. Not again.”
A big arm comes around me from behind, holding what looks like an airplane barf bag. I turn slowly and find Johnny smiling at me.
“Just in case,” Johnny says.
I take the bag and grip it to my stomach. I turn back toward the stage. “What are you doing?”
He’s close enough to read my lips, and if it’s even possible, Jesse Lee gets bashful. “I wrote you a love letter in the form of an album, but it does me no good if you refuse to listen to it.”
My cheeks flame and I crunch the bag in my fists. “This isn’t happening.”
“It’s happening. It’s the only way I could get you to hear me.” He strums his guitar. “One song. If you walk away after hearing me out, well…” He clears his throat. “I’ll have to accept your decision.” Another strum, this one in a different key. “I’ll hate it, but I’ll accept it.”
He steps back from the mic, and his fingers dance along the strings. He’s shining like a dark angel, wearing all black under a single spotlight on a darkened stage. His forearms and biceps strain as he deftly works the guitar to create the most intricate and beautiful intro I’ve ever heard.
His lips touch the mic, and he closes his eyes.
You talk too much
You never listen to what I say
You can’t sing, you’re bossy
I can’t get enough of you anyway
The band joins in with a raucous downbeat. My nausea fades and my heart hammers harder with every word from his lips. His voice is guttural as each note rips from his lungs with urgency and purpose.
You brought fire where there was sorrow
You fought demons with your smile
You caught my attention, gave me hope for tomorrow
You taught me to fight for what’s worthwhile
Anyone can say I love you
The word is disposable, used like a whore.
I’ve tossed it around, wore it out
But you, you deserve more
The crowd is singing too. Lyric for lyric, they chant the words with Jesse, igniting the room. They hold up their cell phones, and I find myself in a sea of light that sways to the beat of Ryder’s drums.
You’re too good.
You make everything okay
I’ll never be enough for you
Please choose me anyway
I miss the way you feel
Your breath against my skin
Wrap me up in you
I want to drown in your assent
Elliot’s hand grips mine, and I squeeze hers as Jesse plays the final chords of the song.
Anyone can say I love you
God knows I’ve said my share
The word has been used to hurt you
Guilt is my cross to bear
But I’ll take my lifetime to show you
To call you mine is my solemn prayer.
Say you’re mine.
Please, just tell me you’ll be mine.
The room explodes. The lights on the stage go dark, making it feel as if what we just saw was nothing more than an optical illusion. My pulse throbs painfully in my chest, proving it was real.
“Well?” Johnny says in my ear.
I turn to him and say the only thing that makes sense. “Take me to him.”
Jesse
She said something to Johnny. I saw her. She turned around and said something, but what? I race backstage and hand the tech my guitar. He’s bringing her to me, right? Or did she demand to be taken home?
I shove my hands into my hair and wait by the door. Every second feels like an hour.
“You nailed it, man,” Ryder says from behind me.
“I don’t know. It might have been too much. What if I scared her off?”
He nods. “It’s possible.”
I glare at him. “You’re literally the worst friend I’ve ever had.”
“At least I’m honest.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and leans against the concrete wall. “Tell ya what, if I were gay and that song was for me, I’d choose you.”
“Thanks, I think?”
“Dude, loosen up. She’ll be here.”
“I don’t know… what if she got sick? What if I fucked everything up? What if—”
The door swings open so hard it cracks against the wall, and Bethany runs through it. Her eyes lock on mine, and I only have a second to brace myself before she jumps into my arms. Her legs wrap around my waist and I grip her ass, holding her to me while she buries her head in my neck.
“Fuck,” I say against her hair. “I was so afraid I’d lost you.”
Her arms grow tighter around my neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to your song before. I was afraid it would hurt too badly.”
“I never want to hurt you. I’ll do everything I can to keep from hurting you.”
“Daddy!”
Bethany pulls away as Ben and Ashleigh come around the corner from the band’s dressing room. “What are they doing here?”
She looks at me, and with our faces so close, her adorable look of shock is too much, so I kiss her. I want to shove my hands in her soft hair, but I can’t without setting her down, and right now, it would take a team of twenty men to get me to let her go. Her tongue is sweet and silky against mine, just how I remember it. I press her back to the wall and tilt my head, deepening the kiss and grinding my hips—
“Whoa there, big guy,” Ryder says through laughter. �
��You’ve got a child present.”
We break apart with heated eyes, swollen lips, and panting breath. I reluctantly put her down but keep my hand on her hip and hold her close. Fuck, she feels so good at my side. I wonder how I managed to survive all this time without her.
“You guys were in on this?” she asks.
Ben scoops Elliot into his arms and eyes Ashleigh. “We were. I’m sorry, Bethany. I hated lying to you.”
My woman props her hand on her sexy hip. “I can’t believe it, Pastor Langley.”
He groans and shakes his head. “It was for the greater good.” His eyes come to mine. “And I owed my brother.”
I pull Bethany tighter. “Thanks, Benji.”
“All right, enough of this! Can we please go watch JT now?” Ashleigh claps in excitement and Elliot joins in.
“We’re gonna pass on the concert,” I say and look at Bethany. “Right, baby?”
She turns into me so her front is pressed to mine, and she peers up at me, looking conflicted as she chews her lip. “I don’t know, I mean, how can I say no to a JT con—”
“Wrong answer.” I scoop her into my arms and carry her toward the exit while she giggles into my throat. “Of course I had to fall in love with a Timberlake fan.”
“You love it.”
I lift my chin to Johnny to get the door then press my lips to hers. “I love you.”
26
Jesse
Johnny pulls the SUV up to the private entrance at the back of the Ritz Carlton hotel in downtown Phoenix. He leads us through the service docks to the private elevator and takes us to the twenty-third floor.
Anticipation vibrates between us as we step up to the door and Johnny produces a key. I take it and he nods once before disappearing back into the elevator.
“This is so nice.” Bethany’s head swivels as she takes in the ornate hallway. “But ya know, I would’ve settled for a Motel 6.”
I cringe, but I’m still smiling because why wouldn’t I? I have the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with in my arms, with me for now and into the foreseeable future. “No more motels for you.” I swing open the door and motion for her to walk in. “I’m going to give you all the five-star luxury I can afford.”
The suite is dimly lit. A bottle of sparkling water on ice and two champagne glasses sit next to a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries. I drop the key on the dresser and my legs coil to pounce, but I can’t go for sex so soon. She deserves more from me.
“Jesse, this is—”
“Wait.” I close my eyes. “There’s something I want to try.” When I open my eyes, she’s looking at me warily. “This may sound weird, but I think…” Shit, I don’t know how to say it.
“Is everything okay?” She sounds worried.
“Yes.” I step up to her and clear my throat. “My name is Jesiah Andrew Langley. I want you to know that.” I sound so stupid! So insecure. “I want you to know me. The me who isn’t Jesse Lee.”
“Jesiah.” The sound of my name on her lips is like a sweet seduction. I’ve always hated the sound of my name because it was seldom said in love, but in one moment, Bethany manages to erase all that and make it something different.
I close my eyes and step closer. “Yeah.”
“I like it,” she whispers, and a shiver rocks my body.
I press my forehead to hers and slip my hands around her waist. “I like you.”
“Show me.”
I open my eyes. “Show you?”
“Don’t say it, okay? Let’s only show it.”
“It. You mean lo—”
She presses her fingertip to my lips. “Don’t say it. Show me.”
I suck her finger into my mouth, and her lips part on a gasp as she watches my lips close around the tip. I release it, and she shocks me by bringing the finger to her mouth and running the wetness along her lips.
“You are unbelievably sexy.” I know she can feel how hard I am against her belly. “I want to show you how I feel about you with my body, but I don’t want you to feel rushed.”
“I’ve been waiting for what feels like forever.”
I frown. “What about the guy at Denny’s?” My abs flex and my spine tingles with irritation. I’m prepared for her to tell me she’s going to have to break up with him soon, that she shared her body with him. I’m prepared, but that doesn’t mean I’ll like it.
“Were you spying on me?”
“I’ve been obsessed with you for as long as I’ve known you, so yeah, I had a guy keeping an eye out.”
“That’s creepy.”
“I know, but that’s what you do to me. You make me creepy.”
She smiles and leans into my chest. “Big Jim—”
“What a stupid fucking name.”
“Is just a friend.”
“Bullshit.”
“He is.” She sighs. “And no, we never kissed or did anything more than share a late-night breakfast.”
“Really?”
“I’ve never lied to you.” Her eyebrows pinch together, and she frowns. “Oh, except for that one time I told you I wouldn’t sleep with you even if we were in the midst of an apocalypse. I lied then.”
“Good to know. So are you saying you’re free to be with me?”
“I’ve belonged to you for longer than I’m proud to admit. Are you free to be with me?” The nervousness in her voice threatens to unman me.
I run my knuckles along her cheek. “I, Jesiah Andrew Langley, have belonged to you since you butchered AC/DC. From that moment on, it’s only been you.”
“I’m sorry, I never should’ve believed what I read about your ex—”
“She was at Spago at the same time we were. I didn’t see her, and even if I had, I wouldn’t do more than give her a polite nod. Or not even that if it makes you uncomfortable. You tell me what you need from me and it’s yours.”
“Right now,” she whispers against my lips, “I just need you.”
Our mouths come together and I feel her grin against my lips. She snakes her tongue out to brush against mine in a long, soft caress.
“We don’t have to do this,” I say against her lips. “We can watch TV.” I grasp her hips and pull her tighter to me. “Chill and talk.” I reach up her sweater and splay my fingers on her lower back. “We can take sex off the table.”
She rips her lips from mine, and the abruptness has me stumbling into her. “Ohhh, sex on the table. Let’s do that.”
I stop her from dragging me to the six-person dining room table. “Bethany, stop.” When she turns around with her eyes bright, skin flushed, and lips wet from my kiss, it takes herculean strength for me to say what needs to be said. “I want you to know how I feel about you, but I’m not sure if sex is the best way.”
Truth is, I’m nervous as fuck to make love, like real love, to the woman I finally really and truly love.
She chews her lip and nods. “Okay, then how about you let me show you how I feel using my body?”
“That sounds reasonable.” I grin because I can’t help being downright giddy at the thought of being inside Bethany again. “Maybe you could, um…” I shrug. Feeling vulnerable sucks. “Show me how.”
Her expression grows serious then heated. “Of course.”
She steps in front of me, slides her palms under my shirt, up my abdomen, and slips the fabric off over my head. Her eyes devour my chest as her hands run the length of my arms to my shoulders and around to my back.
“I like your hands on me.” I groan as she dips in and flicks my nipple with her tongue. “Fuck, that feels good.”
I want to drop my head back and groan, but I can’t peel my eyes away from her sweet mouth as she licks and sucks at my chest. My dick swells and hardens behind my fly as it presses against her, but she ignores it and continues to tease me with her teeth, tongue, and gentle suction. She drags her lips up to my collarbone and teases my neck as her warm breath ghosts against my skin. My legs wobble and my head gets light.
I
sift my hands through her hair, fisting the silky locks, and holding her in place as she continues to coax me to a ridiculous state of arousal without even touching my dick. She shifts to my opposite shoulder, and I really like the way her head moves in my hands as she covers my skin in kisses.
“Don’t stop,” I groan.
“I’m never going to stop lo—” She kisses me again. “Making sure you know how I feel about you.”
“Thank fuck.”
She smiles against my throat and drops back to flattened feet before stepping back enough to lose my hands in her hair. Her grin is pure sex, but her eyes are warm with something that looks nothing like the lust I’m accustomed to seeing. A voice in my head whispers one word.
Love.
So this is love.
She grips the hem of her sweater and pulls it off over her head, tossing it aside. Her bra is pale pink, cotton, no padding.
“My favorite.” Soft, round, and begging for my touch, her tight, rose-pink nipples tighten further as I stare at them. “You’re perfect.”
Her cheeks flush down to her chest. “I’m not.”
“You are to me.”
She toes off one shoe, then the other, and my heart pounds when she pops the button of her jeans, but she stops there.
“Why are you—” I moan as she touches my belt buckle, brushing the tip of my hard-on just enough to send my hips thrusting forward.
She fumbles with the belt.
“Need some help?”
Her pretty hands quiver as she finally gets to my button fly and releases me. “Nope.” She shoves her hand down my jeans, outside of my boxers, and rubs the length of my dick from base to head. “I got it.”
My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I try to control the way my body reacts. “Yeah, you do. For as long as you’ll keep me around.”
She guides me toward the table and turns me so I can sit on it. Her eyes stay on mine as she lowers herself between my knees. My vision blurs in anticipation of her swallowing me down her throat, but she instead works to untie and slip my boots from my feet.
