I channel Aretha Franklin and when I get to the chorus, all the women jump to their feet.
“R-E-S-P-E-C-T.” I jump up and down, clapping my hands and pointing to the crowd. “What we need?”
“A little respect.” A pretty woman in jeans uses her hands as a megaphone.
“Y’all come on up here.” I point to all the girls in the audience. “Doot, doot. Sing it.” I point the mic at my backup singers and they all oblige.
“Just a little respect, now.” I picture myself as a kid, singing this song in my basement. At the time, a plastic spoon was my microphone. The whole bar claps as I hold the last note, trill it, love it, and take it home.
Yee haw!
The cheering is what I live for. For just a few minutes, I made people happy. That’s my crack, my addiction, and why I can never stop.
Another girl shakes her head at me as she takes the mic from my hand. “I don’t know why I bother. You won hands down.” She smiles. “Hey, you want to sing with me?”
I look to the bearded guy with a man-bun who seems to be in charge. “Go ahead, hun. Love to hear more.” He yells over the crowd, “What do you say, can she have another turn?”
While the audience bangs on the tables and stomps their boots, I shout over the hooting and hollering, “What song we doin’?”
“When a man loves a woman.” The young girl takes the first verse and I take the second, singing how I was played for a fool.
The lyrics are so good, it’s hard to sing, so I close my eyes and we end it. After the applause dies down, I lift my lids and suddenly, my pulse goes all crazy-like. Andy’s standing by the bar with his eyes all over me. Just like the song says, he’s my whole world and I don’t know what to do.
He gives a short nod to Jack who waves goodbye. Then he walks to the plywood stage and takes my hand. “Can we please talk? Alone?”
When I nod, he winks at the crowd. “Don’t worry folks, I’ll bring my girlfriend right back. I just need a moment in private.”
I grab the mic. “Countin’ on your votes. I sure could use the money. Came down here with just the shirt on my back. Anybody recognize these boots? Care of Ma’s Thrift Shop?”
I get a whole lot of applause and see why. The nice lady who gave me my cowboy hat is waving wildly. “That’s the God’s honest truth.”
Andy takes some ribbing how he’s not taking better care of me as he walks me across the dance floor. At the barn door, Man-bun says into the mic, “Don’t take her far. We’ll be announcing our winner real soon.”
In the fresh air, I drop the act, let go his hand, and cross my arms. “I suppose Jack told you I was here?”
“He had to. My watch starts at midnight.” He holds up his cell phone, the digits glowing midnight.
“Oh.” So much for thinking he wanted to see me.
His hand rasps over his beard. “Dammit. Sienna. Drop the ’tude.”
“What ’tude, dude?”
“The one that’s freezing me out. I want things back like they were.”
“Oh well, as Jagger said, you can’t always get what you want.” I know it sounds mean but right now, I don’t care. I want him hurting as badly as me.
I guess I hit the mark because his mouth drops open and a blush hits his upper cheeks. “Dammit. You really mean that?”
Holy shit, I never saw a guy’s eyes shine like that before. My palm reaches to his face and he turns his face into it.
After a bit, he opens his arms, and I hug him tight, not knowing what to say or do. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. Maybe, just maybe, he feels the same. When he pulls me from his chest, his greedy lips meet mine and to call what happens next a kiss would be like calling the ‘London Eye’ a Ferris wheel. His tongue enters deep into my mouth as he holds me in place with his fingers digging into the back of my scalp. My body tingles all the way to my other set of lips and suddenly, I wish we weren’t standing in the middle of the parking lot.
When we come up for air, he tucks my chin, eyes locked onto mine. “Whatever I said, whatever I did, I’m really sorry.”
“You don’t know?” I think back on what Jack said and begin to see Andy in a different light. He may be brilliant in the courtroom but maybe not so much when it comes to women.
He wipes the perspiration off his forehead with a handkerchief. “I’m guessing it’s the way I introduced you to my mom?”
I nod. “That and witness protection.”
“Luv, you never gave me a chance to explain. I know it sounds bad but it’s not what you think. I introduced you as my client because my mom is, well… She doesn’t believe people should sleep together before marriage and has been known to make a big stink. I wanted to save you the embarrassment. As far as sending you away… Getting the paperwork started was the only way I could get the DA to agree to let you leave the city.
He looks so miserable that tears form in the corner of my eyes. “I think I’m the one who should be apologizing. I jumped to all the wrong conclusions.”
Suddenly, the door to the bar opens and bun-guy steps out. “Sienna? C’mon in. You won. They want you to sing another song.”
Andy’s hand slides to the center of my back as he leads me into the bar. His body language says, ‘Fuck off boys, this is my woman.’
The guy in charge takes my hand and we approach the platform. “Here she is ladies and gents. And here’s her check. Do you think we can get her to sing another?”
I hate singing with the karaoke machine. “Anyone got a guitar they can loan me? Mine’s up north.”
The young woman I sang with jumps up and down. “I do.”
Grabbing my second beer of the night, I wait for her to come back with her guitar. Then, I tune the instrument, we sit on the edge of the stage, and someone lowers the mic stand.
“Okay, I guess y’all know this one. It was made famous by Dolly, later by Whitney.” When I sing about goodbyes and how it hurts so bad, I have to tear my gaze away from Andy’s mahogany eyes.
He’s a lawyer to the rich-and-famous and I’m a foster kid. If I go back into his arms, my heart’s going to get broken. By the last verse, I make up my mind. We’ll have this fling, and like the song says, I’ll let him go. At least I’ll have the memories and a battery-operated boyfriend.
I finish the song, refreshed by the applause of the crowd. “Thank you. I ah, you guys have been so kind.”
Andy’s hand is there to help me stand. It’s warm, firm and strong. When he lets go, I brush off the back of my jeans and hand the guitar back to the young lady.
“Thanks, hun.” After I wave goodbye to the crowd, one very impatient lawyer pulls me outside.
His kiss is so intense, I come close to tearing his clothes off. My hands reach to the back of his head to hold his lips to mine. As long as I can, I’m going to love him with everything I got. For once in my life, I’m going to live in the moment.
“I can’t believe what you do to me.”
He glances down at the bulge in his jeans and when my eyes follow, I moan. “Just get in the truck and drive.”
“Yes ma’am.” While he goes down this dirt road, I pop the snap on his jeans, and he curses under his breath.
Then, he parks near this dilapidated barn, races around the front of the Ford, and tugs me into his arms.
“Ah luv, I can’t wait.” Forceful lips crash down on mine while his hard cock presses into my stomach.
My mouth busy, I frantically unzip his jeans and find his thick, swollen length. When my thumb slides over the wet bead at the top, he shivers.
“Fuck.” Reaching under my shirt he cups my breasts. “You feel so damn good.”
My clit swells, hot liquid pooling as my fingers wrap around him. The temperature climbs as we work each other into a frenzy. I only let go so his eager hands can tug off my shirt and vest. Then, with my bare back pressed against the warmth of the metal, he leans over and sucks on one of my breasts. He nips and squeezes until a primal moan escapes and my nipples
harden.
He hasn’t even touched between my legs and I’m about to cum. Quickly, I kick off my boots and slide my damp panties off with my jeans.
“Shit.” His eyes shine when I spread eagle for him.
He drops his pants, his shirt goes over his head, and we’re both naked in the moonlight. Close by, a barn owl hoots, swoops low, and casts a shadow, breaking the spell. With his palms under my butt cheeks, he slides his erection back and forth between my legs.
Dear God, I almost erupt from the intensity of the pleasure.
A finger slides into my wetness and he hisses. “Oh hell, Sienna, baby. I got to have you.”
“Do it.” I grab his neck and lock my ankles behind his waist.
He slowly presses his thickness into me, his look so damn hot, I detonate. The primitive instinct to buck takes over as I meet every one of his thrusts. Sweat lubricates our bodies, we increase our tempo, and I am so damn high, I can’t even think straight.
“Baby, eyes here.”
By starlight, I lift my gaze to his and a second orgasm grows.
“Oh yeah.” He grinds in a kind of ellipse as I pant, needing oxygen.
One hand finds a nipple, he pinches, and I scream. He shouts and holy shit, swells inside me. Then, with a final thrust our cores meet, he shudders and finds his high. As he cums, he takes me over the edge once more before collapsing against me. Warm liquids mix and drip down my leg while I struggle to find reality.
Sienna Giles just had mind blowing sex against a hot car under the stars in the middle of nowhere. Who would’ve guessed?
Chapter 15
Sienna
The smell of good coffee finds me in a strange bed, spooned into Andy, his cock twitching by my butt cheeks. Neither of us could possibly be ready to wake up. After we got home, we silently snuck upstairs and made crazy love in his twin bed all night.
Mrs. Quinn calls up the stairs. “Church in an hour. Y’all going?”
Andy moans in my ear. “Sorry.”
He shouts, “We’ll be down in a moment, Mom.”
What am I supposed to do about this?” His hard interest pokes me again from behind and a nibble on my earlobe makes me laugh. “
“I don’t know. God will probably strike us both dead if we try to relieve that.” Laughing, I roll out of bed and find a summer dress that will go with the cowboy boots. “I hope God doesn’t mind that this is all I got to wear to church.”
“C’mere. You look perfect.” He grabs me by my waist and pulls me back under the covers next to his warm, naked body.
His kisses hold unsaid promises of more hot sex and I grin. After, it’s a quick shower followed by a cup of coffee. Then, we pile into the back of his mom’s twenty-year-old Chevy truck.
“It isn’t fancy but it still runs.” Mrs. Quinn backs out of her driveway and heads into town, past the wing place I ate at last night and an abandoned barn that makes me blush.
Andy leans back against the seat as he fastens the top button of his crisp white shirt and knots his striped tie. He’s wearing a light brown sports coat that matches his eyes.
I’d much rather have spent more time in bed but after missing dinner last night, I figure I need to make a better impression on his mom.
Mrs. Quinn practically beams as she pulls into the church lot next to a small white church. The plain steeple looks like something you’d see on the prairie in the eighteen-hundreds. I guess I didn’t have to worry what to wear. People come dressed in everything from shorts and a halter to Sunday best with bonnets. There’s even a couple of young guys in soccer gear.
I’ve always thought the best part of church is singing and I’m real pleased that they got a choir that can carry a tune.
The pastor has a nice smile and graying temples. “Welcome, old friends and new.”
He does some kind of call to prayer, we sing some, and we sit for his sermon. I haven’t been to church since leaving my foster home and I have to admit, it’s uncomfortable. Like I always say, me and God got an understanding. He ignores me and I ignore Him.
When the preacher praises a good and loving almighty God, I snort which earns me a surprised eyebrow raise from Mrs. Quinn and frowns from those in earshot.
Shit.
Embarrassed, I study the notes in the hymnal of the next song. Hopefully, no one else heard my irreverent noise. When the children walk in from Sunday school, I figure on making a break for freedom, pretending to need to use the bathroom.
I stand, not realizing the preacher has asked a question of the congregation.
“I see we have a taker. Come on down and share your story with us.” The man of God practically beams at me.
Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell did I just agree to? Well, now I’m sure if there is a God, he’s mean and vindictive.
I close my eyes and sigh, having had enough of this holy churchiness. “Listen. I can’t do this. I don’t actually believe in God.”
I hold my breath. Why do I have to be so honest?
Instead of throwing stones, well, the virtual kind, everyone looks at me beatifically, like I was a saint, which is all kinds of screwed up. I smile apologetically. I rather liked this town. Too bad I’ll never be invited back.
“Maybe I should go.” The front door seems miles away as the preacher steps down the aisle.
I figure he’s going to walk me to the door which is real nice of him. Instead, he takes me to the front of the whole church.
“Sienna, right? Our karaoke winner from last night?”
“Uh huh.” No doubt I’m going to get an earful about the sins of drinking, partying, and dancing.
“We’d love to hear you sing.” He points to the choir in their long blue robes, all with big grins.
That’s it? After I just admitted to being an atheist?
I stare at him incredulously. Lightning didn’t strike me dead, I wasn’t stoned, and no one dragged me off to jail. In fact, the congregation is all smiling, especially Mrs. Quinn.
Andy has his face hidden behind his hymnal, shoulders shaking. I’m not sure if he’s laughing or dying of embarrassment.
“I ah, don’t really know any church songs.” It’s a good excuse and should get me extracted from this mess, I’m sure.
The choir starts humming a familiar spiritual and the preacher hands me a piece of sheet music. I start singing because it’s what I do. The melody starts with Swing Low, Sweet Chariot and I take a verse, solo.
Then, the piano speeds up to Wade in the Water, which is a lot of fun in four-part harmony. It’s actually a pretty good arrangement. At the end, I don’t even realize I’ve been duped. The choir stops singing and it’s just me and the somewhat out of tune piano.
Now, some people might have just stopped right there and left people hanging but I’m a professional.
Amazing Grace is just a few notes on paper, a few words written by a guy in the seventeen-hundreds. I sing like I always do, pouring out my heart and soul. There’s no now, no yesterday, just the music and me in the surreal place.
When I open my eyes, there’s not a dry eye in the house and I don’t quite know what to do. If I was onstage, I would wait for the applause, thank the house, and take my seat. I guess Andy gets where I’m at because I hear loud male clapping from his pew followed by lighter ones until the whole church thunders.
“Thank you.” With a warm face I’m sure is red, I hand the mic back to the preacher and take my seat.
“Do you know that song was written by a slave trader? Maybe the worst kind of sinner that ever lived?” The man climbs up the pulpit.
Along with the rest of the congregation, I shake my head, no.
“Do you figure that man went to hell?”
I shrug. Good question.
However, his audience seems to know all the answers. The church fills with negatives from the pews. “Uh-uh. No way…”
“Well, neither do I.” The preacher squats by the kids. They’d been so quiet, sitting on the floor in front of the a
ltar, I almost forgot they were there.
“What do we say to the lovely singer, children?”
They all yell together as if rehearsed daily. “Judge not lest you be judged.”
“That’s right. Good job. Now, y’all may leave.”
They get up and join the Sunday school teachers, beaming at the back of the church. One little girl with wispy blond hair hesitates, runs up to me, and gives me a big hug.
“Don’t worry none. Okay? God believes in you. That’s what counts.”
Holy shit. Even though I haven’t converted, I might believe in this small church of really nice people.
The rest of the service goes by in a blur. After, I say hello to at least one hundred people, some from the bar last night. Everyone promises to keep watch for my resurrected dead husband.
I don’t know where they found time but Jack and Andy put signs all over town and posted on social media. No way is Peter going to come into town without everyone knowing.
An older gent purposefully hangs back at the end of the line and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. However, Andy’s right behind me, his arm resting around my waist, as the man approaches.
He shakes my hand at the foot of the steps to the church. “I’m James Big. I own a couple clubs in Charlotte. A band I manage is looking for a lead singer. You interested? I can arrange an audition.”
“Ah, I’m only here for a few weeks.” At the thought of playing again with a group, I miss my brother and my life in the city. If I was home, I wouldn’t even be awake yet.
His card appears in my hand. “Well, if you change your mind, here’s how to reach me.”
“Thank you.” Suddenly, a couple important brain cells fire. “Do you think they might want someone for a just few weeks?”
“Not sure. You can always ask.”
After I thank him again, Andy kisses the top of my head. “Not sure if Charlotte is such a good idea.”
‘I can’t keep sponging off you forever.”
“Now honey, I would gladly-”
“Don’t now-honey me. I mean it. I earn my own way.” I grab both his hands as well as his gaze.
In My Custody Page 11
