IntheMood

by Lynne Connolly

  Claud swore. Not a simple “fuck,” but a glorious sentence. Not one of those words could have been repeated in church. Matt’s eyes widened in surprise. “No. That’s not what she needs.” He cast an exasperated glance at V’s father. “We’ve been talking around that one for hours.”

  “Yes, she does,” said Hamid. “She needs to feel free. Unburdened.”

  Claud slammed his fist into his open palm. “No, she needs an anchor. Every musician needs something.”

  Matt realized what Claud was saying in a blinding flash of realization. He hadn’t thought of it in those terms. He’d been trying to find a way to let her go without making her feel sorry or obligated to wait. But Claud had a point.

  “I used to get bad stage fright, so I took to drugs. I didn’t have a family, not really. My parents are living, but on opposite sides of the world, and they have new families.”

  Claud nodded and Hamid gave him such a look of sorrow that Matt felt sorry for himself, like he hadn’t felt for years. “I’m fine. I came to terms with it. It’s nobody’s fault, but I never belonged anywhere. Not like I do with V. If she’s given me anything, it’s the knowledge of how to put down roots. I didn’t know before.” He paused. “But I won’t hold her back and I’d decided to let her go.”

  “She’ll want to stay with you,” Hamid persisted. “She won’t want to leave you.”

  “Then she’ll have to learn to do it,” he said, heavyhearted.

  A voice came from the door, female and crisp. “Do you often talk about me when I’m not here?”

  Hamid didn’t falter or hesitate. “Not with this man, honey, but yes, I talk about you and the rest of the family. You’d rather I didn’t?” Only then did he turn and smile at her.

  V stood in the doorway. The door mustn’t have closed properly. “I’d definitely rather you didn’t.” She entered the room gracefully, crossing to place her instrument carefully on its stand. “I prefer to make my own decisions.” She glanced at the door, returned and closed it, leaning against it. “I’m staying in Chicago. I’ll take session work, but I’m not going on the tour.”

  Matt cursed the way she’d closed the door on discussion. Or so she thought. “The session work won’t pay like the band work.” Not that she’d care about that, but he’d use his strongest arguments when they were alone.

  “Honey,” her father said, “you always wanted this. To work with a band. A year might be all you need to get it out of your system.”

  For a moment an expression of sheer tragedy crossed her features, but she controlled it quickly and efficiently and she was back to being don’t-care V again.

  He knew what she was afraid of. He was afraid too, but he wouldn’t let that stop him trying.

  “I’m about done. I’m not scared anymore.” She gave a short laugh. “Well, I am, but I’m not phobic anymore.” Finally she’d used the word. Pride surged through him on her behalf. He knew she’d been avoiding it and he’d taken his lead from her in this instance, deciding to let her use it first. Another hurdle jumped. She smiled, a genuine smile of absolute pleasure. “I broke that one. I could get it again, but if I carry on playing at the club and do the session work, I’ll be fine. I don’t have to prove anything to myself anymore.”

  Matt cleared his throat. “It’s her decision.” He knew something they might not realize. “Phobias don’t go away that easy. You’ll have to repeat the experience a few times before it goes. I know that too. I lost mine somewhere along the way.”

  V shot him a sharp glance. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve done it now, proved to myself that I can.”

  That appeased her father. He visibly relaxed. “That’s good to know. And you have the café. Something to fall back on.”

  “Sure it is,” Matt agreed. “If she wants to carry on with her music, she can employ help.”

  Hamid turned a piercing gaze on his daughter. “Did Jack tell you his plans?”

  She shrugged. “Yes. I have to tell him my decision when I get home.”

  “Which is?”

  She glanced at Matt, who had no clue what she was talking about, then back to her father. Why was he getting a feeling like fingers creeping up his spine, and definitely not in a good way? “I think expanding the coffee shops is a great idea, but I don’t want to do it. The coffee business isn’t something that excites me.”

  “It excites him.” Hamid cleared his throat. “It interests me.”

  “It does?”

  “If you don’t want to go in with him, I’ll back him.”

  She blinked. “He came to you already?”

  “I have an interest in the business, or have you forgotten?”

  Matt felt like an intruder here. “This is family. I’d better leave.”

  “No you don’t, son.” That “son” gave him a strange feeling, one he found it hard to define. Warmth, belonging. Strange feeling, that, at one stray word. But it was more than that. Claud had put his hand over Matt’s and he stared down at the wizened brown hand almost covering his. Claud had seen so much, and Matt knew he had a lot to learn from the old man. He wanted to learn, wanted to be there and hear it.

  He swallowed. “Thanks.”

  “We’re used to collecting strays, Matt, they often turn out better than the blue bloods. You’re just another one. You don’t have to be poor to be lost.”

  “That’s true.” He’d said it before he realized he was admitting to it. But yes, he was a stray. He’d always had enough money, but not enough love. Not that he’d let that hold him back, or embitter him, or so he thought. How could he find somewhere he belonged at this stage in his life? Deep in his heart he knew. He’d found his home, but he might have to let it go. Sometimes a home could be a person.

  “Violet brought you home, and we welcomed you. You don’t have to be with her and you don’t have to stand on ceremony. I’ll get you a key cut.”

  Matt didn’t have to be told that was the clue, the permanent invitation to the Hamid family. He’d never met anyone like them, never. He doubted there could be too many.

  “Thanks. I’d like that.” It didn’t sound like enough, but damned if he could be too effusive. He’d never had the practice.

  His attention went to V, and despite all that still lay between them, they exchanged a sweet smile. He owed her. That made it even more important to do the right thing here. But not in this room.

  “You’re tired.” He got to his feet and went to her, uncaring of their interested audience. He took her hand, but didn’t pull her close, aware she wouldn’t want that in front of her father. “Come on, let’s get back to the hotel where there’s a hot shower and decent food.”

  Claud stood with a scrape of his chair against the hard floor. “He’s right. We should all get some rest. But I want to see the rest of this place first, and I found a man to show me.” He glanced at his brother. “Coming?”

  Hamid gave a rueful grin. “Sure thing. Saw Sonny Liston here years ago. Then came back to see the man who beat him. Damnedest fighter I ever saw. Never anybody to touch him.”

  They all left the room and V locked it behind them. The only other person with a key was the doorman, and his key was locked away. Her sax and the rest of her things would be fine until they returned tonight.

  Back at the hotel, Matt wouldn’t let her say anything significant until they’d ordered from room service and eaten. “Musicians need their food, especially on tour.”

  “Plenty play hungry,” she said, waving her fork at him. She speared another piece of pasta.

  “None of them lasted long hungry,” he answered.

  She didn’t argue, probably because the food was so good. She finished her plateful, then leaned back with a happy sigh just as he finished with his own plate.

  When he met her eyes, her expression darkened, and he knew the time had come.

  Silently he held out his hand to her. She took it and let him pull her to her feet and away from the table. Their room had a small, comfortable sofa, upholstered in
soft green wool. It matched her darker green top beautifully and pleased his aesthetic senses. He could carry this vision in his heart, so it was with him always. Whatever happened next, he’d have this.

  “I’m coming home after the concerts, Matt.”

  “I know you are, but the world tour starts in a month.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t do it.”

  “Why not?” He reached out, grabbed her hand, stilled her protests. “V, that old saying about not having your cake and eating it? It’s not true. You can have it all, darling. No, listen to me.” She closed her mouth, but a determined look remained in her eyes. He had some persuading to do. “You can go on the tour. I can come to you in between assignments, you can come to me when you’re close. Listen, V, you can do it.”

  Fear shadowed her eyes. He hated that, wanted to dissipate it any way he could. If he took her to bed now, she’d end up purring like a cat, but that wouldn’t solve their problems, only postpone them. He had to persuade her now. “I saw your triumph. I saw how happy playing with the band made you. I want that for you, V. Just think about it. Forget me, forget the café, everything except what your heart is telling you to do. If you don’t, if you give up for any other reason but that you’re tired of it, then you’re doing yourself a disservice. And me.”

  She pressed his hand, but not to request that he drop it. Just an automatic reaction. He’d hit the truth for her. He carried on, putting everything he could into the argument. “If you do it for my sake, or your father’s sake, or Claud’s sake, then you’ll come to resent us for holding you back. You will, I swear. I had to give up the drugs for me, not for anybody else. If I’d given up for my parents, or for the band, or for any other reason, it wouldn’t have stuck. It wouldn’t have worked. I tried before, but it was only when I got to the state when I realized it was the drugs or me that I could move on. Just this once, don’t think about anybody else. Do it for you.”

  Her expression wavered and she took her lower lip between her teeth, worrying it in a way that made him want to soothe it, preferably with his tongue.

  He pressed his advantage. “What do you want, V?”

  She swallowed. “I want it. I do. It feels like nothing else on that stage. Like I’m part of something else, something bigger, and without me it wouldn’t be the same. It’s strange.”

  It was strange. He’d never felt like that and he said so. “I enjoyed the feeling coming from the audience. I liked that I was making so many people happy but I never felt the way you do.”

  “A musical orgasm?” They exchanged a smile, so sweet. “But I can’t have it and have you, and I want you more.”

  Unable to resist any longer, he tugged her hand and urged her close. He pulled her into the shelter of his body and kissed her, long and sweet.

  He saw the warmth in her eyes, knew he was reflecting that in his own. “Yes, you can. We can do it, V. I’m used to traveling. I can come to you between gigs. I won’t be stuck in the studio all year, and think of this.” He took her lips again, unable to resist their cherry sweetness. “It could do me some good. Since I was seen with the band on that press conference I’ve had a dozen phone calls. Making queries, asking me if I have any studio time. I won’t take them all personally. AZ is better at some types of music, anyway. He does urban much better than I do. It’s the studio I’m building up. It’s not an ego project.”

  She sighed into his mouth when he took another kiss. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, sweetheart.” Every time he said it, it got deeper, stronger. That was why he knew they could do this. “We have video, laptops, phones. It’s not like we only have landline phones and snail mail. We can perfect phone sex.”

  “It’s not like the real thing.” But her voice was dreamy now, as if she was drifting.

  “No it’s not.”

  “And after this tour, there’ll be another.”

  “Not until you’ve had some studio time. Besides, the band might not want to do another world tour for a while. If you get to be a full member, you get an equal vote, don’t forget.”

  “Hmm.” She kissed him this time, reaching up to press her lips against his.

  He’d had some ideas of his own about the band. “I want to talk to Jace and the others. See how they feel about another live album and DVD with the new lineup. Murder City Ravens is an incredible live band now. About time someone made a record of that.”

  Her eyes widened a fraction but the sultry expression remained. “You’d do the recording?”

  He winked. “As if I needed any more persuasion.”

  This time they didn’t break their kiss.

  He lifted her and took her to the bed, their mouths sealed in a passionate affirmation of their love.

  Would she ever get enough of him?

  She doubted it. Every time he looked at her with sultry promise in his eyes, displaying his blatant desire for her, she melted. Wanted him, more than she could bear. Her pussy tingled for him, and damn him, he knew it. He could play her. Her only consolation was that she could do the same to him.

  V wasn’t used to playing with a partner. It hadn’t really been a part of her life since high school, when her first lover had been a funny guy rather than a jock, and he’d laughed her into bed. It had been a long time since she thought of him, but sometimes Matt reminded her of that man, whose name she had to work to remember. Buddy. He’d left to go to university and never returned, but he’d written her for a time.

  Her past and her future. But now she wanted only one man and one kind of loving. His.

  She smiled up at him as he carried her to the bed. She saw nothing but love and trust in his warm gaze and she gave hers back to him. She wouldn’t think of anything except this now, or she’d try to, although the choices she had to make reverberated around her head, making her dizzy. It had been a long day, but she was about to end it the best possible way. The only better way would be at his apartment. She loved the place now he’d let her help him unpack. It was a home.

  He lowered her gently to the bed and kissed her before he stood and started to undress. She did the same, sitting up to rid herself of her top, her bra, her jeans, shoes, panties and socks. All gone. Naked seemed the right way to be. Naked and unashamed. He stripped completely, letting his clothes fall where they would, and then gave her an easy, loving smile, but his eyes revealed barely banked fire. The fire that they stoked together.

  He came down to lie beside her and took her hand, holding it between them before he leaned forward and kissed her, but he didn’t linger over the kiss. He stroked her fingers. “We’ve made love in a lot of adventurous ways,” he said, “but this time I just want to love you.”

  “That sounds good.”

  Like lovers exploring each other for the first time, they caressed each other’s bodies, taking their time, punctuating their explorations with soft kisses. He kissed around her nipple, laughed when it tightened and contracted, then dropped a kiss on the hard bead at the tip before moving to the other. She cradled him in her arms, smoothing her hands over his shoulders, curving her palms to feel the tightening of his muscles.

  No rush, just a slow, gentle arousal of each other’s bodies to the inevitable conclusion. It felt so good. Neither had anything to prove, they could just enjoy. V had never, ever had an experience like that. She knew he loved her. He knew she loved him. It made for a tranquility she couldn’t explain, a surety that she could experiment, or choose to do this thorough but gentle exploration. He’d allow her to do whatever she wanted because he loved her and she would do the same.

  That was why they needed equality in their relationship, she realized. To make the lovemaking, the heart of their relationship as sublime as ever. And she knew what he meant. She must do what she wanted for herself, because by being herself she gave him everything. No holds barred, nothing held back.

  He could be sure she’d never regret anything she did with him. But she didn’t know if she still wanted to travel with the band, tak
e the chance of becoming a full member. It would mean she’d spend maybe one year in three mainly away from home. More, if they wanted to do more live appearances. It would mean flexibility, while Matt would be in Chicago, making a success of his recording business.

  But she knew, if she asked him, he’d give it up for her. Fuck, what a responsibility! It was one she didn’t want. He had to make a success of what he did, or she’d break her heart. She’d never ask.

  He’d reached her navel by now, kissing around the little indentation before dipping his tongue inside and arousing the incredibly sensitive spots there. Before she’d met Matt, she hadn’t realized the erotic possibilities of the navel. Now she sighed and moved a little, making him murmur to her before he went to the hollows below her hips, kissing and moving on. She knew where he was headed, and she wanted him there, the urgency rising steadily, inevitably. She parted her legs, eager for him to reach it.

  He lifted his head and gazed at her. She stared back, lost in the moment. “You have no idea how fucking beautiful you look like this, do you?” A sudden grin flashed across his lips. “The first time I saw you I wondered what it would feel like to wrap all that hair around my hands and get thoroughly tangled up in you. Now I know and I can’t wait to do it again.”

  “I want to love you too.” She wanted to feel his power under her hands, reduce him to a quivering mass of need, as she knew she could do.

  “This time is mine. Next time I’ll give myself up to you.” The promise made her shudder, thinking of what she’d do and how she’d do it.

  He returned to kissing her, and this time reached the promised land. He took one gentle taste, kissing her clit so gently she could hardly feel it. It made her lift her pelvis and push her body toward him, every nerve a screaming point of sheer need.

  He touched her, kissed her, lining kisses down one side of her labia and then up the other. His caresses became slowly, carefully more intense, firmer, until he had her clit in his mouth and two fingers deep inside her pussy.

  One hard suck and she was there, screaming his name. The anticipation had been so exquisite, so drawn-out that she was ready for him, primed to go off in a way she’d never felt before. This was what long-time loving meant. Exploration, and a more patient approach, so they could lengthen the anticipation. If she could have thought at all, she’d have determined to try it with him, but her wits had scattered.