“Go inside and take everything off. Spread yourself open for me so I can put that damn toy of yours to shame with my mouth like you enjoy so much or go the fuck home… now,” he ground out as he noticed the trembling in his own hands.
“You want to feel good, Puppet? Then you ask me for it! That’s my job and for my enjoyment too. You promised me the day you married me that you’d always ask me for pleasure first no matter what… before anyone or anything else. Remember? I’m home now… why didn’t you ask me to pleasure you first? Why, Sherri? Do you really hate me so bad that you wouldn’t let me make you feel good?” he asked.
Another whimper escaped her. He released her completely and stepped back, throwing his hands up to let her know she was free to decide. Another tear spilled down her cheek before she turned and ran to her car. Within a few seconds she was squealing out of the apartment complex.
He managed to crawl back into his apartment and sit down before his legs gave out. His entire body was taut with sexual tension and frustration. His breathing became ragged as he imagined her sweet body arched in orgasm from giving herself pleasure without him even being there to at least watch.
It was one thing to know she was getting it from somewhere or even someone else… it was another for her to say it out loud and rub his face in it.
The look on her face before she’d said it… she’d known exactly what she was doing and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
He wasn’t some young punk full of himself anymore, but just now with her, he’d felt like he had something to prove to her, to himself… to the whole damn world. In one way it felt good to feel so passionate about something again after life had kicked him down.
At the same time he knew that sex, no matter how excruciatingly satisfying it was with her, wasn’t going to fix their problems. It would bridge the gap between them while they were in the throes of ecstasy but when they emerged from heaven… then what?
After a few moments of wading through the feelings she still conjured up in him, even after all these years, he realized there was a song in his head, filling his heart, and trying to come out of his mouth.
He hummed the melody for it as he managed to get up and find a pen, notebook paper and his guitar. For the first time in well over a year, his spirit was alive and he was ready to ride the feelings for as long as they lasted.
A little while later after managing to get the lyrics and the chords written down, he was surprised by a knock on the door.
Looking through the peephole to ensure Chris wasn’t on his doorstep ready to take a swing at him or worse, he was surprised to find Dickie and Tommy standing there instead. He opened the door for them and invited them inside.
“Have you seen Sherri by any chance?” Dickie asked, clearly concerned. She hadn’t been gone that long… had she called them?
Sighing heavily he said, “She just left a little while ago. We had a fight.”
“I expected as much but just wanted to track her down and make sure she hadn’t done something she’d regret. She called Greg Sanders earlier talking about how she might need bail money so he called us,” Tommy said.
“She may want to disconnect my head from my shoulders but so far she hasn’t. After this, though, she just might,” he replied with a reassuring smile.
“Well since no one drew blood or ended up in jail, I’m gonna head on to the house,” Dickie said. “At some point, ya’ll are going to have to calm down some and talk like grown-ups.”
“I was ready to talk, or at least I thought I was, and I assumed that perhaps she’d come over to try, but within minutes we were fighting just like we used to. The only difference is this time we managed to quit before it became a fight to the death,” he replied.
“Or to the bedroom…” Tommy said under his breath.
Dickie left soon after but Tommy appeared to want to hang around for a while. He walked over to the coffee table TJ had found at a second hand store where he picked up the notebook and looked at the song that TJ had been working on.
“It needs a good bass line,” he answered Tommy’s unasked question.
“Let me hear what you’ve got,” Tommy said, setting the notebook back down on the coffee table and then sitting down in the recliner chair.
TJ went down the hallway to retrieve his bass guitar and the small amp that went with it. Returning to the living room he handed them to Tommy. After Tommy managed to get everything hooked up he looked on as TJ picked out the tune on his guitar and sang the chorus and the first verse. Within minutes they were in tune with each other and the first good song he’d managed to create in more than a year was born.
Tommy stayed and played bass for a while and after he left, TJ managed to write down notes on the bass line before heading to bed where he tossed and turned for hours.
He wanted nothing more than to go to her and console her… and pet her. Images of all that reckless passion she’d unleashed on him earlier came to mind again and again until he was a complete mess. After all these years… he was still in love with his wife.
Pride may have kept him from coming back, kicking the ass of any man who may have touched her, making sure she knew that only he could give her what she really needed and that she belonged to him, but he’d never stopped loving her.
They didn’t call it a deadly sin without a reason… because over the years that pride had killed him a little bit at a time. That was his part in the mess he’d made of his life and in his marriage.
He had simply been too proud to chase her down yet again… or in this case come back… especially over something that was so important to him. Just once he wanted her to show her passion for him somewhere outside of the bedroom… he needed her to believe in him. Coming to Nashville, whether they’d stayed for a couple of weeks or a couple of years, would have been enough.
Instead, even now, she baited and bashed him for ever having tried. No apologies for not supporting him or guilt for not giving back as good as she got.
He’d busted his ass right along with her for more than two years, making the bar into something that could provide them with an income while he tried his hand at making music… professionally.
Lying awake at 3AM did nothing for being right or wrong though. Not when he was rock hard and could practically remember the way she smelled and tasted.
He really needed to sleep too since he’d be seeing her tomorrow. Things would definitely be different between them now that they had violently aroused each other.
He was walking a thin line where Sherri was concerned but his frustration got the better of him. Getting up he went out to the living room and grabbed his cell phone.
He’d managed to get Sherri’s cell phone number from Gretchen when she’d called asking if he would teach her how to play the drums. Punching send after selecting Sherri’s name from his list of contacts, he waited as it rang.
“Why in the hell are you calling me at three in the morning?” she answered after several rings. She was completely awake just like him. He could tell by her voice.
“To make sure I didn’t hurt you earlier or bruise your face,” he replied, quietly. It was part of the reason… but not the only one.
“Are we back to that again? I’m no more breakable than I was ten years ago. So no you didn’t hurt me, but you can’t… touch me anymore. Do you hear me talking, TJ?” she asked. “We may still be married, legally, but that’s not worth any more than the piece of paper it’s written on.”
“If that’s true then why did you kiss me back?” he asked.
After nearly a full minute of silence he knew she didn’t intend to dignify him with a response so he continued. “Will you touch me, then? You can be mad and hate me all you want but I need a time out from all this hostility you’re throwing at me. My dick is so hard for you that I think I may actually lose my mind. Unlike you, I keep my promises and won’t… I can’t think of anything right now, though, other than the way you look all spread and glistening, the way you
sound when you cum for me, the way you taste, the feel of you wrapped around me…”
“Why don’t you try calling one of the women from the bar… You’re pretty good at picking up bitches from up there,” she said angrily.
“I’ve let pride drag me down to a very low point in my life… but no more… I’m no longer too proud to tell you that I want you so bad that I don’t trust myself around you sometimes. I’ve missed the hell out of you, Sherri, and I’m not sure how much more of your anger, venom and punishment I can take. I’m trying to be patient but my body is on fire and my heart is bleeding. Can’t we just talk?” he finished quietly.
“That’s not a very pleasant feeling, is it, TJ?” she ground out. “It sucks to miss someone who has moved on and wants nothing to do with you, doesn’t it? Well, sorry but it sucks to suck. Go to hell and stop fucking calling me,” she finished before hanging up on him.
Damn it! He was trying to take responsibility for his part in their failed marriage… why couldn’t she? Was being right all the time really so important to her that she couldn’t just admit that she should have supported him, at least a little bit? That even now she wanted him as badly as he wanted her? He was trying to be reasonable for God’s sake… couldn’t she meet him halfway?
The next afternoon when he got off work, he stopped by the apartment to shower and change. He loaded some things up in his car and then drove over to pick up Gretchen. He managed to cram the small drum set that her grandparents had given her for her birthday in the trunk along with his own stuff.
Before they were completely packed up Gretchen’s little sisters came tearing out of the house asking if they could go too. Gretchen sighed loudly but looked at him as if asking permission.
“Go ask your mama,” he responded.
The two youngest girls ran back inside. He expected Gretchen to try and get him to leave them behind, but she didn’t. Instead she eyed him thoughtfully as if sizing him up or trying to read him.
If she weren’t so small and young, he might have felt a little intimidated by her. She was an unusual kid but obviously intelligent. Unlike most people… especially kids… she never let him in on her thoughts nor asked him any questions as they stood waiting. When the front door finally opened and Dana stepped outside, Gretchen finally got in his car and closed the door.
“Are you sure about this, TJ? Chuck takes them all at the same time sometimes but he borders on crazy as it is. They’re a lot to handle…” Dana said hesitantly.
“I’ll protect them with my life… don’t worry about that,” he replied with a smile.
“Does Sherri know you’ll be the one working with Gretchen?” Dana asked in an attempt to pry without being bold about it.
“I would guess so… Gretchen’s the one who set this whole thing up,” he replied.
A look of doubt passed Dana’s face but she didn’t say any more about it and instead said, “Well call if you need anything or change your mind about all three of them. I also don’t mind to come and pick them up if you need me to.”
The car ride to Sherri’s was entertaining to say the least. The two youngest girls sat in the back seat singing as loudly as possible. Gretchen sat in the front passenger seat staring out the window as if lost in thought.
He’d put his six string acoustic guitar, his main electric guitar, bass guitar, a harmonica and a tambourine in the trunk, just in case Gretchen decided that the drums weren’t for her after all.
The good part about driving the oldest car still on the road was that the trunk was big enough to hold the entire contents of a small house, or a couple of dead bodies or, in this case, all the equipment for a band.
When they arrived at Sherri’s and he let the girls out of the car, Ginny, the youngest, headed inside to see Sherri without even knocking on the door first.
The middle girl, Melody, began following a butterfly along the privacy fence that ran alongside the property.
Gretchen went and stood at the back of the car, waiting for him to open the trunk. The girls were as different from each other as could be.
Gretchen, the oldest of the three, was all business about life in general and at the moment ready to get on with achieving her goal of learning to play the drums.
Melody, the middle child, was the quiet, dreamer of the group and often had to be told something several times before she snapped out of her own little world.
The little one, Ginny, was the socialite of the bunch and could often be found giggling and twirling around and around in a circle in an effort to make herself dizzy.
When Sherri appeared outside carrying Ginny on her hip and frowning, it was painfully obvious that Gretchen hadn’t said anything about him being the one to teach her to play the drums.
Eyeing the three little girls though, she didn’t say anything and instead went and opened up the garage door. He popped the trunk and Gretchen reached in and grabbed out the small tom-tom and drumsticks in one hand and the small snare and cymbal in her other.
TJ pulled the bass drum out and followed Gretchen into the garage. Once the small drum kit was assembled, he went back to the car for the small stool and his guitar. He was joined by Melody who peered into the trunk, pointed her tiny little finger at his electric guitar and said, “I want that one.”
“How about this one?” he asked, offering her his acoustic one.
“No… that one,” Melody said, again pointing at the most expensive instrument he owned.
In his peripheral vision he spotted Sherri, still holding Ginny on her hip and watching his interaction with the little girl. He would probably live to regret this but…
“Okay… if you insist,” he replied, hefting the electric guitar case out of the trunk and then setting it on the ground..
“I want one too,” Ginny said, squirming in Sherri’s arms until she was finally placed back on the ground.
Running over the little girl reached up for him wanting him to pick her up so she could better see what else was left in the trunk. Gretchen began working out a beat on the drum set while waiting for him to get situated. Setting down the acoustic guitar case as well, he picked the little girl up and she looked at what was left in the trunk and said, “I want a piano.”
“I don’t have a piano… but I’ve got a tambourine and a harmonica. How about one of those?” he asked.
Clapping her tiny hands together she said, “I want all of them.”
This garnered a smile from Sherri and that in itself was worth allowing these little terrors to ruin every piece of equipment he owned. Placing Ginny back on the ground he reached in and pulled out both instruments and handed them to her.
She carted them toward the garage while he closed the trunk and followed behind with both guitars and the stool. Sherri went back inside but returned a few minutes later with what looked like an industrial sized fan.
After they were all in the garage, Sherri started up the fan to pull some of the suffocating heat out. Then she turned on an air conditioning unit in the lone window of the garage as well.
“It’ll cool off in here shortly and then you can close the garage door to spare the neighbors,” she said.
“You watch us, okay, Aunt Sherri?” Melody invited.
With a look of resignation Sherri finally spread out a blanket on the garage floor for Melody and Ginny to sit on and then pulled out a canvas chair, unfolded it and sat near the air conditioner. He worked on pulling out his electric guitar and hooking it up for Melody, while Ginny managed to get the harmonica out of its bag.
Ginny put the harmonica to her mouth and blew with all her might and he cringed and prepared himself for the racket these kids were all about to make.
He situated Melody with the guitar, handed her the pick for it and adjusted the volume so it was loud enough to hear but not a decibel louder.
Gretchen seemed to have an affinity for the bass drum. So after situating her sisters, he stepped behind the older girl and began explaining what each part of the drum set was
for and showed her a few beats.
As he finished his explanations and stepped back to let Gretchen have another go at it, he glanced at Sherri to find her staring at Ginny.
Melody was humming to herself and playing with his guitar, listening to the different sounds each string made when she plucked it.
Approaching the blanket where the two youngest girls sat, Sherri stopped him with her hand on his wrist and said, “Listen to her.”
It took him a minute to figure out that Sherri was indicating Ginny who was actually playing a song on the harmonica. He was shocked that the youngest of them had basically picked up the instrument and began to play it with no instruction, just from listening to the sounds it made.
He listened until she finished playing it, and then told her to play it again. She did so even better than the first time and he just glanced in amazement at Sherri whose mouth was hanging open.
He was then distracted by Melody who began singing the words to the song that Ginny was playing. She was also trying to play the song on the guitar but failing.
Kneeling down behind Melody he covered her little hand with his and helped her pick out the tune with his right hand. Then he took her left hand in his and showed her the chords.
She was content to let him play the chords while she strummed the strings but within a few minutes they were playing the song as well.
A minute later, Gretchen upon hearing what her sisters were doing, stopped randomly hitting each drum and looked skyward as though counting in her head. He watched as she started to dance in her seat to the tune and then began tapping lightly on the drums rather than as hard as possible and soon enough found a beat that worked for the song.
“Oh my God, TJ. They are actually playing the song,” Sherri said in quiet fascination.
They were indeed playing a song… it wasn’t perfect by any means… but for a first try it was pretty incredible and showed their natural talent for music. If he worked with them, especially starting so young, they might be really good someday.
Glancing at Sherri, the surprise on her face told him that her amazement matched his. Then her expression changed to a look he hadn’t seen for more than a decade and thought he might never see again. Adoration… for him.
Spirited Ride Page 9
