Love's Rhythm

by Lexxie Couper

  Stripping off her jacket and scarf, she made her way into the living room, dropped onto her old sofa and toed off her boots. An ice bucket sat on the coffee table, along with two glasses from Lauren’s rather forlorn crystal collection.

  Lauren cocked an eyebrow at them. Okay, so Jen was brilliant with dumb animals but she couldn’t count for shit.

  A glass of champagne later, Lauren settled back into her sofa, crossed her ankles beside the remaining glass and closed her eyes. And heard the singing. A male voice the entire world knew singing words she didn’t know, accompanied by the simple strings of an acoustic guitar.

  Her heart thumped its way into her throat. Hard. Fast. Her eyes snapped open.

  Nick.

  Nick Blackthorne was outside her door. Singing.

  “…make you mine.

  I never should…”

  Lauren caught her bottom lip with her teeth, the soft, barely heard words playing over her senses. Making her breath quicken, her palms tingle and the pit of her belly flip.

  “In the hearts of fools and men

  Love will come undone again.”

  He was here. On the other side of her door, singing about love and regret and mistakes. Singing about them.

  Oh, Lord. Did she really want to open the door?

  Of course you do.

  He stopped playing the second she did. Stood staring at her through the artful mess of his black hair, his jaw darkened with a shadow well past five o’clock, his tall, lean body dressed in black, his guitar—the one his mum had given him for his eighteenth birthday—hanging from his shoulder on a wide band, the very band Lauren had given him as a present for the same birthday. The epitome of a rock star.

  She gazed at him. Ate him up with her eyes. And knew, there and then, she could never be what he needed. He was song and she was roll call.

  He was a gift to the world. She was on playground duty.

  She opened her lips, ready to tell him, accepting the truth as much as she hated that it was so. She loved him, Lord, she loved him. And because she loved him she couldn’t be with him.

  He was music and she was small-town and that was the way it would always be.

  She opened her lips and he stepped across the threshold and kissed her.

  His lips made love to hers. There was no other way to describe the kiss. It wasn’t fierce and it wasn’t dominating. It wasn’t urgent or hungry or desperate. It was love. It was passion in its purest form. He kissed her, only his lips touching her. Only his lips. The cold night air from outside swirled around her ankles, her legs, and she burned anyway, Nick’s kiss setting her on fire. A kiss unlike any he’d ever given her before.

  He kissed her and when she stepped back into her house, he moved with her, his lips still making love to hers. He kissed her and when she whimpered into his mouth, he closed the door behind him with his foot and kissed her some more.

  He kissed her, just kissed her, until her head spun and her knees trembled and she could barely think who she was.

  And somewhere between her front door and her living room, he stopped his kiss long enough to remove his guitar, but Lauren didn’t know when. Somewhere between the front door and her sofa, he stopped his kiss long enough to strip her of her clothes, to strip himself of his clothes. Long enough to bury his face between her thighs, to use his tongue to bring her to an orgasm so powerful she felt sure the whole world heard, and then he was kissing her again. Then his lips were making love to hers again and music and playground duty were the furthest thing from her mind.

  He slid inside her, his body moving over hers as she lay stretched out on her sofa, his kiss worshipping her mouth, his length embedded deep in her heat. He slid inside her, moved inside her, and there were no words. There were no words, no music, nothing but the rhythm of their hearts beating, the moans of their pleasure, the sound of their lovemaking. It was the most haunting, beautiful song Lauren had ever heard.

  And it was enough. It was all she needed. For now, it was all she needed.

  They climaxed together, both silent. Nick tore his lips from hers, gazing into her eyes as their releases shuddered through them, his nostrils flaring, his forehead slicked with perspiration. They came together and before her climax left her, he withdrew from her sex and brought her to climax again with his lips and tongue and teeth. Again and again. Never saying a word.

  He drew one orgasm after another from her until he was hard once more. So hard, and then he thrust back inside her, filling her, completing her, and they began the exquisite, rapturous journey to release together all over again.

  Time ceased to exist. All there was for Lauren was Nick and the pleasure he gave her. Pleasure so raw and elemental even if she wanted to tell him this was their last night, their last moment, words failed her. At some point, they moved to her bedroom, but she didn’t know when. Only when the soft kiss of her duvet on her flush skin told her so, did she realize where they were. How many orgasms after the living room? She didn’t know. Didn’t care.

  They made love to each other over and over again, their pleasure keeping them warm, their bodies twin entities of molten desire fuelling each other. They made love and they kissed and sometimes they just held each other and that was as perfect and powerful and right as everything else. And finally, when there was no more strength in their bodies, Nick tucked her into the curve of his body, laying his arm over her waist, his long thighs pressing to the backs of hers, his lips pressed to the back of her head.

  “Nick,” she began. She had to tell him this was goodbye. She had to. It tore her apart to do so, but she had to.

  “Shh, babe,” he murmured, tugging her closer to his body. “No words tonight, okay? There’ll be time for words tomorrow, but not now. Let it just be this now. Just us. Please, Lauren?”

  The request made her throat tight. She closed her eyes and smoothed her hand over his arm, finding his fingers and threading hers through them. “Just this,” she whispered, even as her heart ached.

  When she woke the next morning, but a few hours later, he was gone, a small note left on the pillow where his head had lain. Have a performance to prepare for. N.

  She stared at the note, at the six simple words that spoke the truth louder than any either of them had uttered since Nick had returned to Murriundah. She bit back a choked sob. He’d chosen his music over her, as she knew he eventually would. As she knew he should. Damn it, why was she so upset? This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? This was what she knew had to be.

  But it wasn’t. Somewhere during the night, somewhere between the first moment she’d heard him singing on her front porch and the last moment she’d heard him whisper her name, she’d let herself believe their fantasy could come true.

  Because she was an idiot.

  Climbing out of bed, she hurried to the shower. The pipes groaned, protesting the chill strangling them, refusing to give her anything more than a tepid stream of water. “Welcome back to reality, Lauren.” She dashed from the bathroom, refusing to look at her clock as she dressed for school. She knew what it would tell her—that she was late—but it wasn’t that which caused her to keep her gaze from the time device on her bedside table. It was the simple fact there was no way she could look at the clock and not see her bed. Her bed and the tousled sheets and the indent on the pillow where Nick’s head had been.

  She let out a growl, shoved her feet into a pair of black knee high boots and ran from her room. If she was really lucky the gods of idiotic females would come into her house while she was at school and take her bed away, replacing it with a nice new one, preferably single and not smelling of Nick.

  Her students were waiting for her when she walked into her room five minutes after the bell for class chimed. They watched her enter the room from their desks, silent, their eyes wide, their stares following her as she crossed to her desk and deposited her satchel beside her chair. A giggle slipped from someone, followed by someone else going, “shush”. Lauren felt her cheeks turn red.


  Great. She was embarrassed by a kindergartener. Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

  Turning to her class, she gave them all a big, cheery smile. “Good morning, KR.”

  “Good morning, Miss Robbins,” they chorused back. Someone giggled again.

  “Did you miss me?” she asked, perching herself on the edge of her desk and casting them all a slow inspection before pulling a wounded-puppy expression. “Or did you have so much fun with Ms. Affleck you didn’t want me to come back?”

  “We missed you, Miss Robbins,” Thomas Missen called out.

  She smiled, affecting a relieved sigh. “Ah, that’s good. I missed you too. Now, who can tell me what we are going to—”

  A long bell cut her short, followed by another. The Special Assembly bell.

  Lauren frowned, straightening from her desk. “What’s going on?” she asked her class as she crossed to her room’s door. There wasn’t a special assembly scheduled for today, not that she knew of. She turned back to KR, more than a little surprised to find them all standing in a nice, neat row behind her, their faces fighting wide grins to stay serious.

  She raised her eyebrows, and then started when a loud whoop shattered the quiet playground beyond her door and Mr. Kransky’s Year Six class went running, in their normal helter-skelter way, past her room toward the assembly area.

  Lauren turned back to her class and shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “Looks like something fun is happening.”

  She led her students out the door and along the walkway, more than impressed with how straight and controlled they were. Rarely did they walk to assembly with such determined poise. Rachel Jones slid her gaze to Lauren, a giggle bubbling past her lips before Thomas Missen gave her a nudge with his elbow, a glowering glare and another fierce, “shhh”.

  Lauren narrowed her eyes. Something was going on. Something…

  The thought didn’t finish forming in Lauren’s mind. It faded away to be replaced by stunned confusion. The assembly area was packed with people. Not just school people, not just students and teachers, but parents and members of the Murriundah population as well. Standing around the edges of the area as the other classes marched into their assigned places, chatting to each other, waving to their children, some taking photos.

  Lauren frowned. What the hell was going on?

  She jerked her attention from the unexpected sight back to her own class, and blinked.

  KR weren’t sitting on the two straight purple lines that indicated their place for assembly. KR were organizing themselves on the assembly stage at the front of the school, standing in neat rows, tallest students at the back, their faces no longer serious but beaming. Beaming.

  They all looked at her, and with a quick glance to someone Lauren couldn’t see, Thomas Missen stepped forward, his cheeks growing bright red, his spine growing straighter.

  “Good morning, teachers, students and guests to Murriundah Public School.” His young voice rose above the noise of the crowd, trembling with nerves. Everyone fell silent. Everyone. An event Lauren had never, ever experienced in her entire twelve-and-a-half years of teaching. “Today, we, Miss Robbins’s kindergarten class, would like to present to you a special musical performance conducted by a special guest who was once a student of our school.”

  Lauren’s lips began to tingle. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her breath grew quick and her stomach flip-flopped.

  The note Nick had left for her on his pillow came back to her, six words she thought spoke the truth. Have a performance to prepare for.

  She blinked, suddenly aware every stare in the assembly area was on her. Every stare, including Jennifer’s and Josh’s, who seemed to materialize out of the crowd, Jennifer’s smile devilish, Josh’s goofy. And so very, very impressed.

  She blinked, her heart slamming harder into her throat.

  And then Nick walked up onto the stage. Nick, dressed in old jeans, a green and gold Australian Rugby Union jersey and a red and blue Murriundah Public School scarf.

  Nick.

  Lauren’s mouth went dry.

  He found her stare with his, gave her a smile, gave the audience another one and then turned to KR and nodded to Thomas.

  The little boy all but quivered. “For Miss Robbins,” he said loudly, a beat before twenty-two six-year-olds began singing “Whispers in the Night”, their collective voices rising up with beautiful, child-like harmony. Singing to Lauren the words she knew were forever written on her soul.

  “This life of mine is empty

  Since I walked away

  Taking paths I haven’t seen

  Looking for roads I’ve left behind

  Searching for an answer

  That was always there

  Needing to feel something

  Beyond this pain.

  And I want to beg but I can’t find the words

  And I want to cry but I can’t find the tears

  And all that’s left is the shadow of your heart and the ghost of your smile

  And the whispers in the night.”

  The song continued, words of tormented broken dreams and longing for something lost until the last line faded away. Until the children’s voices grew softer, softer and they finished singing.

  Their stares stayed glued to Nick’s face, their expressions so earnest and serious as the last word left them all in nothing but a collected sigh, and then all twenty-two student were looking at her.

  Looking at her with joy and hope so innocent that she wanted to cry.

  No, that wasn’t why she wanted to cry. She wanted to cry because Nick was standing before her school, her class, the whole world, watching her from across the other side of the assembly area, his smile nervous, nervous goddamn him. She wanted to cry because everyone was clapping and cheering and looking at her, and her class was beaming and she’d never felt so special. So special and loved and…and…damn it, so Nick’s.

  She stared at him across the heads of the student body, her heart in her throat.

  Oh Lord, what did she do now?

  Her lips curled into a slow smile, a second before she realized the assembly area was silent again. Silent. As if waiting.

  A silence broken again by Thomas Missen’s loud, clear voice. “As Mr. Blackthorne’s representative I would like to take this opportunity to announce that he is retiring from singing professionally.” The crowd gasped, a shocked ripple rolling over everyone. Everyone that was, except Nick and Thomas. “And,” the little boy went on, louder this time, fixing the audience with a stern look, “he plans to take up residence in Murriundah where he will write words for other singers to sing…” Thomas paused, giving Nick a quick glance before grinning at Lauren, “…while spending the rest of the time with his family. If his family will have him?”

  Lauren mouth fell open. She couldn’t help it. Her mouth fell open and she gaped at Nick. Really gaped at him.

  He grinned at her, and then turned and looked at her son, his son, standing to the side of the assembly area. “Josh, you haven’t changed your mind about letting me marry your mum since last night, have you?”

  Lauren’s heart smashed into her throat.

  Josh grinned back at Nick. “Depends. You haven’t changed your mind about giving me guitar lessons, have you?”

  Nick shook his head.

  Lauren watched their son’s grin turn to a smile so genuine in its joy it was all she could do not to sob. “In that case, go for it, Dad.”

  It was Nick’s turn to smile. He returned his gaze to her face, reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a little red velvet box.

  Oh God. Oh God, this is happening. This is really happening.

  He held her stare and lifted the lid off the box, revealing a ring made from a bright green pipe cleaner topped with a pink, plastic stone she recognised from the bottom of her class’s goldfish tank.

  “Thought I’d let you pick your own,” he said, and everyone laughed. Well, Lauren assumed everyone was laughing. To be honest,
she wasn’t paying them any attention. Not when Nick was making his way toward her. Not when he was weaving his way through the mass of cheering students all clapping and calling out, “Go Nick!” and, “Go Miss Robbins,” and chanting, “Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

  Not when he was standing right before her, pipe cleaner ring in his fingers, his gaze on her eyes, his breath fanning her cheeks.

  “Marry me, Miss Robbins? Be my plus one forever?”

  She stared up at him, mouth open, pulse pounding.

  Oh God. Should she say yes? Should she?

  Are you kidding?

  No. She wasn’t.

  She took the ring from his fingers and slid it on to hers. They could make it work. They would make it work. Because without Nick the rhythm of her life wasn’t just wrong. It was incomplete. She understood that now. He made her laugh, he made her smile. He made her heart, her soul, sing. Her Nick. Not the world’s anymore. Just…hers.

  “You drive me mental, Nick Blackthorne,” she whispered.

  “You drive me crazy, Lauren Robbins,” he whispered back, a second before he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her.

  Just as the chanting, clapping, cheering students told him to.

  About the Author

  Lexxie’s not a deviant. She just has a deviant’s imagination and a desire to entertain readers with her words. Add the two together and you get wickedly fun erotic romances with a twist of comedy, sci-fi or the paranormal.

  When she’s not submerged in the worlds she creates, Lexxie’s life revolves around her family, a husband who thinks she’s insane, a cat determined to rule the house, two yabbies hell-bent on destroying their tank, and her daughters, who both utterly captured her heart and changed her life forever.

  Contact Lexxie at lexxie@lexxiecouper.com, follow her on Twitter www.twitter.com/lexxie_couper or visit her at www.lexxiecouper.com where she occasionally makes a fool of herself on her blog.

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