Songs of the Heart: Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Book 3

by B. Rose, Charli

  “Still think you’re dreaming?” I teased.

  “I know I’m not. None of my dreams have ever done you justice. I love you, and I’m so glad you decided to come back. And not just for my show or a visit but come back to me. To us.”

  My arms tightened around her. I’d never get enough of feeling her back in my embrace.

  “Over the years I have been invited into a lot of amazing places—the White House to play for the president, the sheik of Dubai’s home, A-list celebrity parties. But I’ve never been invited to anywhere more sacred than your body, your heart.”

  Chapter 19

  Izzy

  Sunlight slanted into the room where the curtain wasn’t closed properly. I squinted against the intrusion and rolled away from the offending shaft of light. The arm draped around my torso initially tightened to stop my movement but relinquished me when I made no move to get off the bed.

  “Good morning,” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.

  “Shh. Let’s sleep a little more,” Dawson rasped out.

  “OK,” I whispered with a yawn.

  We’d only slept in bursts, choosing to spend much of our first official night back together getting reacquainted.

  I snuggled into his embrace, resting my head on the peaks and plains of his chest. His heart beat a reassuring tempo in my ear. With our arms around each other, we both drifted off to sleep once more.

  * * *

  Sometime later, I was awakened in the most amazing way—kisses and fingers blazing a trail down my stomach. Wide shoulders nudged my thighs apart. I was sore in that delicious way that reminded me with each ache what activities wore me out.

  Soft lips kissed my inner thighs. They were in direct contrast to the light scratching brought on by the short facial hair lining Dawson’s jaw. The combination had me squirming in anticipation.

  A deep chuckle came from beneath the covers.

  “You denied me this last night, so I figured I’d take matters into my own hands this morning,” he said.

  “What was I thinking?” I teased breathlessly.

  Hot air blew across my bare skin, making me ache with longing. Calloused fingertips ghosted over my flesh, dipping in to gather moisture to spread along my slit, up to my clit. After a few tender brushes, his mouth descended on my sensitive nub.

  Holy hell. I closed my eyes in response to the intensity. His mouth painted a vision of love and nirvana on my body. That talented tongue drew long strokes from top to bottom and back again, creating vivid splashes of color behind my lids. He alternated it with short jabs, stippling tiny dots of intense pleasure in me. His teeth and lips layered in nibbles and sucks, fashioning a gorgeous masterpiece of love and bliss, color and contrast, want and need in my head. As he doubled his efforts, I lost sight of the colors spattered on my mind’s canvas. The brilliant white of rapture rained down, dowsing all color.

  Unable to resist, I sunk my fingers into his hair and held on tightly as my hips thrust against his mouth.

  When he’d wrung the last drop of pleasure from me and my body floated back to Earth, his head popped out from under the covers.

  His hair stuck up in every direction thanks to me. I giggled as he crawled his way up my body.

  “I didn’t realize orgasms were funny,” he growled as his hard cock pressed against my entrance.

  “I’m sorry. It’s not that,” I giggled as I took in his very disheveled appearance.

  My giggle turned into a gasp as the tip of his shaft rubbed against my swollen, over-sensitized flesh.

  “It’s what then,” he rumbled against my neck as he torturously teased us both.

  “It’s your—”

  His abrupt thrust inside cut off my response. The weight of his body pressed me into the mattress as he met my gaze, a smirk on his lips and mischief sparkling in his eyes.

  I ran my fingers through his hair, trying to right what I’d messed up. “Your hair is a wreck,” I offered with a small smile.

  “Wonder why? Could it have anything to do with the death grip you had on me to make sure I didn’t stop what I was doing a few minutes ago?”

  His hips rotated, grinding his pelvis against my clit.

  “Probably… Sorry about that, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I know how you like to drag things out and make me beg.”

  “No begging today. Just pleasure. Instant gratification if you want,” he offered.

  “Hell yes,” I moaned as he set a glorious rhythm with his motions.

  “I figure it’s the least I can do. Today at least. I owe you like two years’ worth of orgasms.” The words were hot against my neck.

  He shifted his hands down so he could grip my hips and change the angle. The result had my eyes rolling back in my head. My skin started to heat and tingle.

  I forced my eyes open so I could see him. My heart. My soul.

  The muscles in his arms tensed. Goosebumps broke out across his chest and shoulders. Nirvana was knocking on his body, demanding entrance. I wanted us to embrace it together, so I reached my hand down to help myself get closer to the threshold. My fingers brushed against his slick flesh with each retreat from my body and rubbed against myself with each reentrance.

  His mouth captured mine as I shattered, my body convulsing around him and under my touch.

  He collapsed on top of me as we tried to catch our breaths. Wrapping my limbs around him, I welcomed the weight of him securing me to the bed.

  “How does it still feel like that after all we did last night?” he asked in awe against my neck.

  “You mean like something familiar and new all at the same time?” My fingers ran up and down his spine.

  “Exactly. I can’t even begin to count the times over the years we’ve done this. That we’ve been inside each other’s body, mind, heart and soul. And while I know your body better than my own, it seems each time we connect, I notice something new. I can’t really explain it,” he said in awe.

  “I know what you mean. I hope every day for the rest of our lives is like that, a combination of familiar and fresh. You’ll never get bored with me that way,” I said.

  “I’ll never grow tired of you. Two years without you and being unable to picture anyone in my arms, my heart or my bed convinced me of that,” he vowed.

  Even though he’d said pretty much that the other weekend, my heart still stuttered at the thought of him unable to fill my spot in his life. Guilt gripped me as I recalled my attempt to fill the Dawson-shaped hole in my life. Though I’d been unsuccessful, I still tried. Tried harder than he did.

  His thumb brushed along my lip.

  “Stop,” he said gruffly.

  “Stop what?” I asked, feigning innocence and confusion.

  “You know what. Feeling bad for trying to find love. I won’t say that I don’t hate it, but it’s not your fault you moved forward in your life. It’s not your fault I didn’t come after you to demand answers.”

  “No. But it is my fault that I gave up without finding you,” I whispered.

  “You realize that this cycle of blaming ourselves has to stop if we’re going to fully embrace this miracle of a second chance we’ve been given.”

  ♪ All I Need is a Miracle by Mike & the Mechanics

  “You’re right. It just makes my heart hurt to think about it.” Liquid filled my eyes, and I fought to keep it from spilling.

  Dawson shifted his body a little so he could press a kiss over my heart. “A kiss to make it better,” he offered with a grin. “I don’t hold anything against you. So, you don’t have the right to hold it against yourself. Please try to let it go… for me?”

  “For you, I’d try anything,” I vowed.

  “Anything?” he said, his voice dripping with wonderfully wicked intent.

  I laughed. “Yes. Probably. But you have to feed me first.”

  “That I can do,” he readily agreed. “In just a minute. First I want to talk to you about something.”

  “Sounds serious.”


  “It is. I have to leave in a few days to take care of some things in LA.”

  I knew our time together would be short. I hated thinking of goodbye. But then, I’d always hated them when it came to Dawson. Our relationship had been peppered with them for years though. I ought to be used to them.

  ♪ Always Remember Us This Way by Lady Gaga

  “Sounds to me like we’ve got to cram a lot of orgasms in before you go,” I said forcing brightness into my voice.

  “Not if you come with me. I mean, we can still cram a bunch in. But what I mean is, I want you to come back to LA with me.” His face was serious.

  “For how long? I don’t have any photo shoots scheduled this coming week. I figured it would take me a few days to tear down and pack up my pieces from the gallery. But since most of my stuff sold, I have some free time. And I don’t have much on my calendar for the week after that.” My mind was already shifting appointments so I could stay a little longer.

  “A few weeks. A month. Forever,” he said with a hopeful look on his face.

  “Wow. Really? You want to live together?” I squeaked. My insides were a riot of jubilation and nerves.

  “You don’t have to decide right now. Just come with me tomorrow. See how it is. Give it a shot. I’ve lived as long as I want to without you. But if you’re not ready to take that step, I can be patient. Just know, I’m not giving up on us. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.” His fingers brushed the hair away from my face.

  ♪ Life was Meant for Two by Carl Wockner

  “I have to admit the idea appeals to me and makes me nervous at the same time. I mean, I’d have to start over with building my photography business. And I wouldn’t know anyone but the band, and you guys will be gone a lot. And I’d need to find a doctor there who could handle my case. And—”

  Dawson’s mouth descended on mine, trapping the rest of my worries inside.

  “I know it’s a lot to think about. Take your time. Come for a visit now. We can figure out the rest later. I just don’t want to say goodbye to you tomorrow.”

  “OK,” I said simply.

  “OK, you’ll come?”

  I nodded.

  He kissed the breath out of me. His happiness had a taste and texture. It infused into me.

  My stomach growling against his interrupted us. Laughter erupted between us.

  “Let’s get you fed.” He climbed out of my bed. I couldn’t help but watch him as he moved across the room to the drawer where his stash of clothes had been moved. Muscles flexed and relaxed with each step.

  “You planning to stay there and gawk at me all morning? Or do you want me to fix you some breakfast?” Dawson asked with a smirk as he turned back around.

  “Can I get a show with my breakfast?” I teased.

  “You want me to bust out with the helicopter or something?” he asked as he glanced down at his semi-erect cock.

  “That would be entertaining,” I answered, biting my lip to keep from laughing.

  “Raincheck. He’s too tired to perform.” Dawson tugged on the sweatpants he’d taken out.

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  I threw off the sheet and sauntered over to where he stood by my dresser. I opened the second drawer and grabbed the band shirt I’d stolen from Dawson years ago. Naked, I walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

  In seconds, I had company. Without a word, I handed him a new toothbrush, and we huddled around my sink, eliminating our morning breath. It was a very domestic task, one we used to carry out without much thought. Today, though, it meant a lot more.

  He finished first and went to deal with breakfast while I finished up.

  As I made my way to the living room, my phone rang. I dashed back to my room to grab it before it could stop.

  Breathlessly, I answered, “Hello.”

  “Isabelle, good morning,” Charles’s deep voice spoke in my ear. “How are you?”

  “Good thanks. I hope you are too.”

  “I am. I just wanted to call and congratulate you on the success of your show.”

  “Thank you. I really appreciate all you did and the people you put me in contact with. Last night really was a dream come true.” I still felt like I was dreaming.

  The sound of sizzling filled the open space as Dawson worked in the kitchen.

  “I couldn’t be prouder of you. You really deserve something amazing in your life.”

  “Thank you for taking a chance on me and encouraging me.” I owed Charles a lot.

  “You definitely seem to have rediscovered your muse since our talk weeks ago,” he said in my ear.

  My glance traveled to Dawson as I agreed with Charles, “Yes, I have.”

  “Anyway, I was calling to tell you that you don’t have to arrange to come pick anything up because I am going to divide the remaining pieces between my two galleries. If you don’t mind that is?”

  “That would be wonderful,” I gushed.

  “Tomorrow, I will be depositing the money you earned from all the sales into your account. After all the expenses are paid, you’ll net about one hundred and seventy grand.”

  I had to have heard him wrong. “Can you repeat that?”

  He chuckled. “One hundred and seventy grand.”

  I needed to sit down. My knees gave out, dropping me to the couch. “That’s unbelievable,” I whispered, tears filling my eyes.

  “Believe it. I’m going to let you go celebrate. I’ll be in touch.”

  I stared off in space, my phone hanging limply in my hand until Dawson dropped down in front of me. His touch on my cheek snapped me out of it.

  “Flutterby, what’s wrong?” his voice was concerned.

  “Nothing.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “I’m crying?” I swiped at my face. Yep, I was crying. “I’m just overwhelmed. Charles just called to tell me how much money I made off the sale of my pieces last night.”

  “Wow. So, what’s the verdict?” He settled on the couch next to me.

  “One hundred seventy thousand dollars,” I whispered, covering my mouth with my hand as the number escaped. “Only thirty thousand and change left to pay off my hospital bills.”

  Dawson whistled. “It’s amazing you sold enough to take such a huge chunk out of your debt. Um… I need to tell you something.”

  My stomach twisted in knots over his tone. His voice was unsure. He got up and grabbed his phone off the bar separating the living room from the kitchen. As he walked, he was engrossed in finding something on it.

  “Do you remember coming up with that slogan?” he asked, pointing to the words scrawled across the band shirt I wore. I dropped my gaze and read the words. Loyal to the lyrics, and loyal to the odyssey.

  “Yeah.”

  “And do you remember helping me work out the kinks in the chorus of our first hit single?”

  “Yeah,” I answered with a frown.

  “Well, I always argued with the label that you deserved a cut of sales on the song and merchandise with the slogan. They refused. They kept saying that your contract for the other work you did for the band never included a royalty share. Anyway, I talked with a lawyer about what would be standard,” he spoke so quickly I had a hard time comprehending.

  He took a breath.

  I had no idea where he was going. “I didn’t help you because I expected payment. I helped you because I love you,” I explained. I appreciated that he wanted me compensated, but it wasn’t a motivator.

  “I know. Anyway, when I got my big royalty check a couple of years ago, I set aside the amount of money the lawyer said would be fair. I opened a bank account in your name. Since then, I’ve added a portion of the earnings from the song and merch sales. It wasn’t a lot at once. But over time, it’s added up.” He turned his phone around so I could see the screen.

  Across the top of the screen was my name followed by what appeared to be an account number. The balance made my eyes widen.

  “Daw, tha
t says there’s over sixty thousand dollars in there.”

  “I know. And I would’ve found out a way to get it to you. I just didn’t figure you’d want to hear from me. And honestly, once I set up things to deposit to your account automatically I didn’t really think about it much. I have all the papers and stuff at home for you. I’ll give them to you when we get there.” He ran his fingers through his hair, nervously.

  “Dawson, that’s a lot of money. Are you sure you want me to have it?” I squinted at him.

  “Izzy, you earned it. It’s money the label should’ve paid you over the years. I’m sorry I didn’t stick up for you and insist on it back then.”

  “But don’t you need the money?” I couldn’t fathom him having that kind of money sitting in an account for me, out of sight and out of mind.

  “No,” he answered with a laugh.

  “Are you sure?”

  His fingers tapped and swiped some more. “This is my savings account. At least the one for that bank. I’ve hit their limit.”

  My eyes bugged out at all the zeroes in his account balance.

  “I guess you don’t need what’s in that other account then,” I joked.

  “Nope.” He planted his lips on mine for a quick kiss. “Now let’s eat.”

  He got up and dashed back to the kitchen and brought in two plates piled with bacon and French toast. Then he went back for water bottles for both of us.

  “Mmmm,” I moaned as I ate the first bite. “A girl could get used to this.”

  “Good because I want to take care of you and spoil you.” He took a bite of his food.

  “So, with the sales from the show and what’s in that account I set up for you, you’ll be able to pay off the hospital bill, right?” he asked.

  “Yeah and have some left.”

  “So, you could focus more on creating instead of doing portrait and event photography?”

  “I guess you’re right.” I hadn’t really thought about it. Long ago, I’d accepted the fact I’d have to do the normal types of photography in order to make money. I’d have to adjust my perspective now that studio photography wasn’t going to be a requirement in my life anymore.