“It is.”
Time seemed to slow to a standstill. He couldn’t talk, he couldn’t think. Because she was too damn close. Her smell, her voice, her hand in his. Despite the bustle of activity around them, it felt like Myles and Aria were the only two people in the room. Was it possible to want her even more? During the car ride down to Baker’s, which was about forty-five miles from Ann Arbor, Myles had been struck by the emotion that had churned within him simply because she was near. Her scent had wrapped around him like a tight glove, and he’d wanted to touch her, to kiss her until she couldn’t think about anyone but him. He wanted to see that dazed, hooded gaze in her eyes. The one she’d had at the studio.
“Aria, I feel like I need to say something before we go any further.”
She frowned. “Why? Myles, if you’re going to tell me you have a girlfriend or something like that, I’ll kill you.”
Myles laughed, brushed his thumb over her chin. “No. I don’t do drama and I’m not a cheater.”
“That’s good to know.”
“But here’s the thing. There is something about you that I can’t ignore. I felt it at the sip and paint, even though you barely looked my way. I felt it at the opening, when I looked at your work. I felt it on our walk and at your studio. I feel it now. If that’s too much for you, let me know. Please tell me it’s not, though. Please tell me it’s not just me?”
She placed a finger over his lips, and he kissed her fingertip before he sucked it into his mouth. Slowly. Aria swallowed visibly. “Damn, that was hot.”
He laughed.
Aria pulled her finger from his mouth and shifted in her seat to face him. “And to answer your question. It’s not just you.”
Myles leaned in and circled her nose with his before he brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth. “Good.”
A waitress arrived with their drinks, interrupting the heated moment. Aria turned and tasted the classic mojito she’d ordered. The low moan she let out a second later went straight to his groin. Damn, he wanted her.
“This is delicious,” she said.
Myles watched, sipping on the beer he’d ordered as she perused the menu. Once they had placed their orders, they settled back into the booth. They listened to the music in comfortable silence.
“Are you familiar with the musicians onstage tonight?” she asked.
“Martel Pierce, the guitarist, is a good friend of mine.” He brushed an errant piece of hair from her face. “We’ve known each other for years.”
“That’s sweet.”
“I’ll introduce you. He usually stops over between sets.” Absently Myles reached out and tugged her closer. When she giggled, he said, “You were too far away.” And he needed her close to him, in more ways than one.
She leaned forward to grab her drink, and he studied one of her visible tattoos. Skimming the back of her neck, he traced the outline. Aria turned her head a little, gazing at him over her shoulder. “Do you like tattoos?” she asked.
“I like yours.”
“Do you have any?”
He nodded, dipping a finger under the halter strap and tugging it down slightly so he could see the rest of it. It couldn’t be. It was. Even in the dim lighting, he recognized the design. A near-exact replica of Aria’s Metamorphosis. “It’s your painting.”
Aria bit down on her bottom lip. “Brent did it years ago. I wanted a permanent reminder of it, and he’s the only one I trusted to do it justice. He’s brilliant with a tattoo gun.”
He pressed his mouth to her shoulder, right over the tattoo. “It’s beautiful.” He turned her chin toward him. “You’re stunning, Aria.”
“Myles, you’re intense,” she whispered. “You make me feel... I don’t even know how to describe it. But I like it.”
“Good.”
Dinner arrived, once again interrupting the moment. Aria dug right in, biting into a chicken wing with gusto. “Oh. My. God. This is off the chain.”
Chuckling, Myles said, “I have to say, the food never disappoints.”
“It reminds me of Celeste’s fried chicken. I’ve never been able to perfect it.”
“Who is Celeste?”
“Our housekeeper-slash-cook.”
Curious, Myles wondered about her family. They’d only talked in general terms. He knew her father was a successful judge, but she hadn’t mentioned much about her mother. He got the gist that they didn’t get along, though. “You cook?”
“I try. Honestly, I’m not that great at it. But my macaroni and cheese is slappin’, thanks to Celeste. She tried to teach me how to make lasagna and smothered pork chops, because those are my favorite dishes. Needless to say, I didn’t get the hang of it. Oh, I miss eating her food.”
“I take it you don’t see her often.”
“No. I don’t get by my parents’ house much. And I don’t see that changing any time soon.”
“Why?”
“My relationship with my mom is kind of strained. Always has been. And recently my father filed for divorce, so the tension in the family is at an all-time high.”
“I know how that feels,” he admitted.
“My mom had a promising career in media before she got pregnant with me. Then, she gave it all up to be a wife and mother. Sometimes, I wonder if that’s the reason why we never got along. Or worse, if that’s the reason why I felt like I would never be good enough for her.”
Myles recognized the look in her eyes. He’d felt that rejection so many times in his life, from his mother and his father. It was yet another connection between them, another thing they had in common. Dr. Law wasn’t a great father. And his mother... She had been at home barely enough to be a good mother. Yet, he’d spent most of his life chasing the approval from his father, wanting the nurturing from his mother. It was a good thing he had his music, his siblings, Ms. Pennie. He would have gone crazy, otherwise.
“What about your father?” he asked.
“I love my father. He’s the best. But part of me feels guilty. Because if I hadn’t shown up, he would have been free from my mother. And maybe happy?” She shrugged. “And that was super heavy. I’m not even sure why I told you that.”
“You can talk to me.”
“This is a date. We are supposed to be flirty and sexy. Not serious and sad and retrospective.”
“Isn’t this part of it, though? Getting to know each other?”
“True. But enough serious talk. We need to get this date back to lighter ground.”
“Fine. I have a question for you. When you’re not painting, what do you like to do?”
“I love horror movies, dominoes, and taking care of my plants. And I like—” She sucked in a deep breath at the hunger displayed in his eyes. Her gaze dropped to his mouth.
Myles hooked a hand around her neck and pulled her to him, brushing his lips over hers before deepening the kiss. He explored her leisurely, enjoying her soft moans. She was sweet, warm. The mixture of seasoning, mint and lime on her breath drove him crazy with need. It was a first for him, showing such a public display of affection. But he couldn’t stop himself. Pulling back slowly, he watched as she licked her lips.
“Sorry,” he said.
With her hands against her cheek, she nodded. “No need to apologize. That was...nice.”
He smirked and turned back to his plate. They spent the rest of the evening talking about his music and her art, favorite horror flicks and basketball. Myles found out that Aria was a huge football fan and loved the Detroit Lions, she’d just purchased a home, and her favorite song was “I Want You” by Marvin Gaye.
Martel did join them for a few minutes during his break but couldn’t stay because his girlfriend was in the house. He did promise to invite them back for his next performance, and asked Myles to play, as he always did.
It was sometime during the third se
t that Aria leaned closer and peered up at him. “Thanks for bringing me here. I’m having a ball.”
“Does this mean you’ll go out with me again?”
Aria giggled. “On one condition.”
He cocked a brow. “And what is that?”
“You play for me.” Myles froze, tension taking over his body. Aria must have noticed because she sat up and turned to him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he lied.
“Myles, we’ve had a great date. I’ve learned your favorite scary movie is Halloween, that you think you can beat me in dominoes, and—”
“I can beat you in dominoes.”
“We’ll see,” she chirped. “I know about your affinity for cheesecake and that you love seafood. But I feel like that’s only a small part of you. If your music is like my art is to me, then I’ve only scratched the surface tonight. And I want to know more.”
Myles was speechless. Aria was right. He’d shared some things, but not everything. She’d already shown him her. It was his turn to really deliver. “Come home with me,” he said.
“To what?”
“Not to sleep with me if that’s what you’re worried about. But I want the record to show that I wouldn’t mind if you did.”
“Myles, I—”
“Aria, come home with me so I can show you me. The rest? We’ll play by ear.”
* * *
Myles unlocked his front door and gestured for Aria to enter his home first. He lived in a newer neighborhood on the north side of Ann Arbor. The inside of his house was modern, but there wasn’t much furniture. However, the view off the back of the house was amazing, overlooking lush trees and a man-made lake. Aria’s fingers itched with the urge to paint it. It had been a while since she’d done a landscape.
“This is gorgeous.” She felt him walk up behind her. Through the glass, she noted the way he leaned in and closed his eyes as if he’d smelled something so beautiful. Grateful that she’d remembered to wear her favorite perfume, she turned to him and gripped the front of his shirt in her hands.
Myles devoured her with his stare, and it made her feel reckless. Because she shouldn’t want to sleep with him this soon. But she did. And it scared her. At the same time, she didn’t want to let fear keep her from seizing the day.
They’d had one delicious make-out session in the studio, and she knew it wouldn’t take much for her to abandon her no-sex-on-the-first-date rule. Because the last time that happened... Yeah, she didn’t want to think about that nightmare experience. But over the last few days, she’d dreamed of him while she was asleep and daydreamed about him while awake. And she wanted those dreams to be her reality. Sooner rather than later.
Things were moving too fast, though. Weren’t they? This was too new. Right?
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, brushing her hair off her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her right one.
A wave of uncertainty washed over her. “Just thirsty,” she lied, rolling her eyes at the lame fib.
He walked to the refrigerator and opened it. “Wine? Or beer?”
“What kind of wine?” She joined him at the fridge.
“Mel brought over this moscato.” He pulled the bottle out, holding it up for her to see. “I have a bottle of merlot over on the counter.”
Aria pointed at the bottle in his hand. “I’ll have a glass of the white.”
He grabbed a glass from the cabinet. The kitchen was gorgeous—dark cabinets, dark wood floors and state-of-the-art stainless steel appliances. As Myles poured the wine in her glass, she scanned the family room off the kitchen. A huge television was mounted to the wall, and a large sectional sat in the middle of the room. She wondered if he had a lot of company.
A moment later, Myles handed her the full glass and she took a sip. “You’re not going to drink with me?”
“I’ll get something later.” He laced his fingers in hers and led her through the house to a closed door at the end of a hallway. He turned the knob and opened the door.
Aria followed him inside, gasping at the sight in front of her. A grand piano sat near floor-to-ceiling windows. There were three keyboards of various sizes in one corner, five guitars hanging on hooks against a wall. There wasn’t much seating, only a love seat against the wall, a stool and a chair. Off the room was an enclosed sound booth.
“This is amazing, Myles.” She walked around the huge room. Brushing fingers over the turntable in another corner, she glanced at the album sitting there. Duke Ellington and John Coltrane. “I haven’t seen one of these in so long.”
His eyes were on hers and she explored the room. “I found it for a steal. It plays well, too.” He walked over to her and put the needle on the vinyl. “In A Sentimental Mood” blared through the surround sound speakers.
Aria smiled as memories of summers, her father’s vintage Mustang and licorice assaulted her. “This song is everything.”
“It’s my favorite song,” he told her. “My favorite piece to play.”
She turned to him. “Play for me?”
Myles sat at the piano, his fingers immediately playing the melody. With his eyes closed, he continued to play along with the song. But Aria wanted to hear only him. She lifted the needle off the record.
Her stomach tightened as Myles put his own spin on the song. The music coming from the piano was lovely, full and rich, deep and powerful. His face, though... She could tell he was in the moment, becoming one with the music, opening himself up to her with each note.
Aria felt tipsy, and not because she’d finished her wine. Her glass was still half-full. It was all Myles. Setting her glass on a table, she walked over to the piano, slid onto the bench next to him and let his music seep into her soul.
By the time he played that last note, Aria was on fire. The room descended into silence and he dropped his forehead to the piano. A few minutes later, he turned and looked at her, his head still resting against the lid, like it was his salvation. But the way he was gazing at her? He stared at her like she felt it, too. Like he was just as confused as she was. Like he wanted her to give him the answer to let him know that what they were feeling in that moment was right.
“I’m not crazy,” he murmured.
She smiled, shaking her head.
“This happened?”
Aria swallowed, but before she could respond, she felt his hand slide between her thighs, resting there, as if waiting for her to give him permission. He sat up, brushed his nose up her neck to her ear.
“Aria...” He pressed his mouth to her pulse point, and she shuddered. Her eyes fluttered closed at the sound of her name on his lips.
“Myles.” Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears, with a different tone than she normally used.
“Are you going to let my hand go?”
Aria blinked and looked down. She hadn’t even noticed that she’d closed her legs, trapping his hand. She shook her head slightly.
He chuckled in her ear and she melted into the bench. “I want everything. I want to know what makes you happy or sad. I want to know what makes you angry and what makes you want me. I want to explore you, study your movements, memorize the sound of your voice so I can play it on my piano. Worship you.”
“Yes,” she breathed, finally letting her legs relax. “Please.”
Aria knew they were speeding past the point of no return. The line she hadn’t wanted to cross so soon seemed to be in the rearview mirror. And she didn’t care. She just wanted him to make the ache go away. When she felt his fingers graze her core, she moaned. But his hand didn’t stay there long. No, it disappeared in the next moment and strong hands gripped her waist, lifting her up and setting her on the piano in front of him. The sound of various notes pierced the air, echoing in the room. He kissed her stomach.
“Myles,” she whispered.
His eyes were on hers, a q
uestion in them. “Do you want me to stop?” He inched her dress up slowly. Sensations overloaded her, thrilling her with the anticipation of what came next. “Do you want me to stop?” he repeated.
Aria swallowed. Time-out for overthinking everything. Tonight, she was going to give in. “No.”
“Can I have you, Aria?”
“Yes,” she groaned.
“Say it,” he commanded softly, his voice a low rumble.
“You can have me.” Her hips started moving of their own accord as he rubbed her through her panties. His touch was featherlight and slow. So slow she wanted to scream. Or cry.
“Good,” he whispered.
He bit the inside of her knee, and his tongue grazed the spot he’d bitten. He kissed and nipped at her inner thighs as he worked his way up.
“Oh, my... Myles, please. Just...” Aria let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m really ready for you to have me.”
The sound of his laughter sent waves of pleasure straight to her core. “You’re really ready?”
“Definitely ready, and—” Before she could finish her sentence, she felt and heard the fabric of her panties give way as he ripped them from her body. “Oh. Damn, I just bought those panties.”
“I’ll buy you another pair,” he assured her right before he sucked her clit into his mouth. Aria cried out in response, panties forgotten. Because... Oh, my. Even if she could form a coherent thought, she didn’t want to. She wanted to concentrate on the delicious orgasm building in her. Shit. She was coming—on a piano. The orgasm buzzed through her, setting her ablaze and wringing her dry.
Myles didn’t give her any time to recover, though. He pressed his mouth to hers, sucking on her tongue until she groaned. Or was that him? Lifting her up into his arms as if she weighed no more than a piece of paper, he carried her through the house to his room.
The loud boom of a kick against a door sounded, and seconds later she was falling into a pillow-top mattress. She let out a delighted yelp as he crawled up over her body, placing wet kisses along her calves, her knees, her thighs, her quivering belly, her breasts, her collarbones, her chin and finally her mouth.
Spark of Desire ; All for You Page 29
