by Elle Casey
He’s staring out the window with his hands shoved deep into his front pockets, his shoulders rounded forward. “No. I’m sure the restaurant here is fine.”
I take the menu from the desk and walk over to him, reading out a few of the options.
“The steak sounds good,” he says absently. “I’ll have that. Medium rare.”
I look over the menu, trying to pick something for myself. I feel his hand on my shoulder and look up.
“I don’t expect you to call it in for me. I can do it.”
I shrug. “It’s no big deal. I’ll do it.”
His hand falls from my shoulder. “Sometimes I forget that not everybody is at my beck and call.”
“What do you mean?”
He goes back to staring out the window. “I gave you my order like you’re some kind of waitress. I didn’t mean to do that. It’s just that . . .” He looks down at the floor and sighs. “The only people in my life these days are people who have been hired to take care of me or people who play music with me. It’s new to me. I’m not doing well with it.”
I think I understand where this is coming from. “When was the last time you saw your brother or your parents?”
He shakes his head slowly. “I haven’t seen my brother in more than a year. The last time I saw my parents was right before I came here, six months ago.”
“Where are they now?”
“My parents are outside of Philadelphia. My brother . . . Who knows?”
“Is he okay?” I ask delicately. I’m so worried about his answer and what it might dredge up for him, but to not ask would be cruel and insensitive.
“I assume so. I haven’t heard otherwise.”
I rest the menu on a nearby table. “Do you mind if I ask you what the circumstances were of your brother going missing?”
“No, I don’t mind.” Ty actually sounds a little relieved. “He’s not missing. Not exactly.” He walks down the length of the room, still looking out into the night. He stops at the corner where two windows meet. “He just couldn’t take it anymore. He left. For a while he was living with a friend of his, but then he moved out and didn’t leave a forwarding address.”
“Have you tried to find him?”
“No. But I’m thinking about doing that now.”
“Why now?”
He doesn’t answer for the longest time. Then he turns around and looks at the leather-bound folder on the table. “You want me to call in our order?”
I pick up the menu and walk over to the telephone. “No, I’ll do it.” He obviously doesn’t want to talk about his brother right now and I’m not going to push him. I hope he does open up to me, though, because I think this is important . . . maybe even critical.
When the ordering is done, I hang up the phone and turn to face Ty. He’s not looking out the windows anymore. He’s staring at me.
“What?” I look down at myself. “Is there something wrong?”
“Why would there be something wrong?”
“You’re staring . . . It’s pretty intense.” I try to laugh through it, but the look on his face stops me.
He walks slowly over to me, his gaze smoldering. I’m no mind reader, but I don’t need to be in order to know what he’s thinking; I’ve already been stripped naked in his head and now he’s reaching out to touch me.
His fingers come up and trace from the hollow in my throat down to the middle of my chest. He slowly releases the top button of my shirt.
“I thought of you all day today,” he says in a hoarse whisper.
“Me too,” I whisper back. My pulse is racing and I’m already wet between my legs.
My second button is now undone. His finger glides across my skin to my left breast, where he slips it under the edge of my bra. It both tickles and makes me hot. I shiver. He stops to undo the rest of the buttons of my shirt. It falls off my left shoulder, but I do nothing to stop it. Cool air brushes across my skin, bringing up goose bumps.
“You are so sexy. So natural. So real.” He seems mesmerized.
“Thank you. I’m glad you feel that way.” I can’t believe my luck; I think I’ve found the one musician in the entire world who doesn’t want a woman with bleached-blond hair and boobs up to her neck.
“I do. I really do.” He pauses, his expression going almost pained. “I want to be inside you so bad right now.”
His directness sends a shock through me, but not the unpleasant kind. I’m warm all over, trembling in anticipation of what he’s suggesting.
“What’s stopping you?” I ask.
He looks up at me as if to verify whether I’m joking, but when he sees that I’m not, he rushes in.
Suddenly, our arms are around each other and we’re stumbling toward the bedroom. My shirt falls to the floor and my bra quickly follows.
He yanks his T-shirt off and flings it across the room. We fall to the bed in a heap, him on top of me. He has a raging hard-on and I can’t get my pants off fast enough.
“You smell nice,” he says, trailing kisses across my chest.
I was just going to say the same thing to him. He smells like a man, so different from me and the scents I’m used to at home. It’s alien and foreign and entirely sexy.
He moans, pressing into me, reaching around to squeeze my rear end. I moan too, unable to stop myself. The sensations are too much. I’m losing control already and we’re just getting started.
He pulls my panties down with little finesse. I’m only able to get one leg out before he’s released his rock-hard cock from behind his zipper. I hear the ripping of material and feel a jerk around my waist, and then suddenly he’s there pressing inside me.
“Condom!” I squeak, in a panic.
“Fuck. Sorry.” He pulls away and scrambles around, trying to get into the back pocket of his pants that are still halfway down his legs. He finds a package and rips it open, quickly taking care of business. He rolls over partially on top of me and looks down into my eyes. “I’m sorry about that. That was stupid.”
“Don’t worry about it. You fixed it.”
He reaches up and strokes the hair away from my face. “You are so beautiful. I don’t want to fuck this up.”
I reach up and take his hand away from my face and place it on my breast. “You are not going to fuck anything up, unless you stop what we started before we finish.”
He smiles for the first time since walking into my room. “Yes, ma’am.” Then he’s there again, so physically present—heavy and solid—pushing against me and then into me.
I close my eyes with the pleasure his body brings me. This is so much better than I imagined it would be. He goes in and out, smooth like silk yet hard as a rock. How did I get so lucky? I’ve found a guy who challenges me and keeps me guessing while also making me feel like a million bucks in bed.
This time it’s different with him. There’s a sense of urgency and desperation. I think he’s using my body to exorcise the demons from his life. I don’t mind; I want to help him find peace, even though I love his intensity. And it’s not like I’m not getting something out of the deal too. It feels amazing to have our bodies communicating on this level, almost like we’re enjoying a spiritual experience. I feel closer to my creator, closer to understanding why my body was built the way it was. Ty and I were meant to be together like this. I can feel it in the deepest part of myself.
“I’m sorry, babe,” he says between gasps. “I can’t hold back for very much longer.”
That crazy feeling is coming over me again, the one I can’t control, whose origin is the place where Ty and I are most intimately connected—the spot he’s rubbing and stroking, heating up with every inch of his rock-hard body. I’m so close, nearly there too. “It’s okay,” I say, sounding like I’m pleading. “I’m ready for you.”
My words work like magic for both of us. He loses control at the exact moment that I do. He’s yelling and then so am I. The two of us cling together as we rock out a rhythm that rubs me in all the right place
s. Our bodies strain toward each other and then suddenly there’s an explosion of light in my mind.
I close my eyes and fall into the abyss that follows when the fireworks fade out. Tears gather in my eyes as emotions overwhelm me. This was meant to be. I’m so glad Ty is in my life, and now I’m worried about what will happen when I leave New York in two weeks.
As Ty is collapsing on top of me, a knock at the door causes me to stiffen. Someone is here. He rolls off to the side, giving me a quick kiss on the mouth. “I think our dinner has arrived.”
Oh, yeah. Dinner. I had forgotten all about it.
I go to roll off the bed and get to my feet, but he grabs me around the waist and pulls me back, burying his face in my neck.
I giggle uncontrollably. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you goodbye.”
“I’m just going to the door.” I push him away and he pretends I’m stronger than I am, flying backward to land against the pillows.
“Rejected,” he says, grabbing his chest near his heart and pretending to cry.
“Please.” I snort. “If what I just did is rejection, I can’t wait to see what acceptance is.”
He winks, his fake crying disappearing in a flash. “Me neither.”
I grab the fluffy white bathrobe and wrap it around me, grinning the entire time. I love this playful side of Ty. “Stay there,” I say, adjusting the belt around my waist. “I’ll take care of this.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, saluting.
I go to the door and let the hotel employee inside. He rolls in a fancy cart loaded down with food, napkins, condiments, silverware, water, beer, and my tab. I sign it, giving him a generous tip before seeing him out the door.
I roll the cart into the bedroom and grin at the handsome man who has settled himself under my covers. “Dinner is served.”
He smiles lazily back at me, his makeup smeared and his hair standing out everywhere. “Come over here and let me feed you.”
I let the robe drop to the floor and give Ty a few seconds to feast his eyes. Grabbing a strawberry off one of the plates, I bring it to bed with me, giggling when I hand it to him and join him under the covers.
“What are you laughing at?” he asks me, grinning like a fool.
“Nothing. I’m just happy.”
He takes a bite of the strawberry.
“Hey!” I say in mock outrage. “That was supposed to be for me. You were going to feed me, remember?”
He leans over and presses his lips to mine, transferring the bite of strawberry into my mouth.
“Mmm. Yummy.” I giggle again. This is so ridiculous, but I don’t care.
I slowly chew the fruit as we continue to kiss. It’s a little gross, but I have to admit, strawberry kisses are pretty damn awesome. I don’t know where the rest of that fruit ends up, but suddenly his hands are on my breasts again. Our food is going to get cold, but my body is heating up, and that’s all I care about right now.
I climb on top of Ty, straddling his naked body. “This time, I’m in charge.”
He puts his hands on my hips and looks up at me, a sexy grin lighting up his dark eyes. “Yes, ma’am, if you say so.” He leans over to grab his pants off the floor and locate another condom.
Soon enough, he’s ready for me and I’m ready for him. As I slowly lower myself over his erection, I grin with pleasure and satisfaction. Oh, yeah. This is going to be a long, beautiful night.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Ty and I are lying in bed together the next morning, still half-asleep, when he rolls over and begins stroking my shoulder. He’s spooning me from behind and I wiggle, trying to get closer to him.
“I need to talk to you about something,” he says, his morning voice rough from sleep.
His tone tells me sex is temporarily out of the question. “What’s up?” I hope he’s not regretting all the fun we had last night. We went four rounds, and I’m probably not going to walk right for a week, but I’m happy about everything we did, and I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.
“Yesterday . . . during practice. Things didn’t go so well.”
I twist my head sideways, trying to see his face. “What happened?” I slide around to my back so I can see him more clearly. His hair is tousled and his eyeliner smeared. I lift myself up enough to give him a kiss and rub his cheek before falling back down onto the pillows. “Tell me. Maybe I can help.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think you can. We’re having some trouble coming up with new material. It has nothing to do with you, though, so don’t feel bad. That’s not why I told you. I was just . . . bothered by it. And I didn’t want you to think it was you that was making me act like an asshole yesterday.”
I nod in commiseration. “I can imagine how tough that must’ve been for everybody, especially after the conflict that started out the day.”
“Conflict, yeah. Which you resolved, by the way, so that’s cool. Nobody’s blaming anybody for anything. I think we’re all under a lot of stress.”
“I can imagine. Did you guys talk about what you’re going to do?”
“No. But I was thinking about something . . . Maybe it’s crazy, though.”
When it doesn’t sound like he’s going to finish, I reach up and shake his shoulder. “What? Tell me.”
“I don’t know. I was thinking maybe I’ll try to get in contact with my brother.”
I frown, trying to understand. “Do you think you’re having trouble writing new music because you’re sad about him?”
“Nah. I was thinking that maybe he could come and try to write some music for us.”
“Would the band be open to something like that?”
He lifts his shoulder. “I don’t know. But I figured it was worth a shot.”
“Why don’t you talk to them first? It might be better to get the green light from Red before you offer anything to your brother or get his hopes up.”
He nods. “You’re right. But I need to contact him, anyway. It’s been too long.”
I reach up and smooth his hair down. “I’m glad you’re doing that. I could tell from the movies you showed me that you two were close. I don’t know what I’d do without my sisters. They’re my whole life.”
He stares at the sheets over my chest. “My brother and I have a lot of garbage to work through, about stuff with our parents and shit that was said and done over the years. Neither of us handled it well in the end. We didn’t part on great terms, but still . . . we’re close . . . or we were, growing up. I think enough time has passed that we could find a way to work through it.”
“Sibling relationships are the best ones you can have. You need to work things out, regardless.”
“I don’t think our relationship is like the one you have with your sisters.”
“Probably not. But don’t let that stop you. If nothing else, you both have a lot of common ground.”
“Maybe too much.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t be so negative.” I tap him lightly on the cheek so he’ll look at me. “Remember, you are the architect of your life—that control does not belong to your past or your parents. You decide what your next step is going to be.” It strikes me as I say this to him that maybe I should consider taking my own advice. It’s not that anyone has tried to control my life, but I have let my family’s expectations—or the expectations I think they have—guide me in making my decisions . . . maybe too much.
He leans in and gives me a long, sultry kiss. “You’re right,” he says, finally pulling away. “Thanks for reminding me.” He gives me a more chaste kiss and then throws the covers off, quickly climbing out of bed. “I’ve gotta get going.”
“Do you have time for breakfast?”
“Nope. I need to get back to the studio.”
“I’m going to come over too, but I need to eat first and get ready.”
He pulls his pants on. “I’ll meet you over there?”
I lean back on the pillows, pulling the sheets up
over me. “Yep. I should be there by nine.” A glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table tells me I have two hours to get ready and get my buns over there. No problem. I’ll even have time to talk to my sisters.
“Cool.” He leans over to give me another kiss, gently stroking my arm before standing up and hunting down his shirt. He pulls it on over his head and then runs his fingers through his hair, making it worse.
I giggle.
“What’s so funny?” He looks at me with a lopsided grin. He couldn’t be more adorable if he tried.
“That hair.” I pull the covers up to my face to hide my smile.
“What’s wrong with my hair?”
I draw the sheet down to my chin so he can hear me better. “It looks like you stuck your finger in a socket.”
He fake-glares at me and then stomps off to the bathroom. “Holy shit . . . what in the hell happened to my head? Look what you did to me, woman!”
I can’t stop laughing as the happiness bubbles up inside me. The water starts running and then there’s some splashing around. A few minutes later he comes out with his hair slicked back and most of the makeup removed from his face. He points to his head. “Better?”
I shake my head no, pulling the sheets up to my face again. My stomach hurts from holding in the laughter.
“What? I combed it. That’s what you wanted, right?”
“I thought I did . . .” I can’t finish because I’m laughing too hard. He looks like Pee-wee Herman.
“You are so going to get it . . .” He enters the room with long strides and jumps onto the bed, making me squeal with surprise and delight.
Then he’s on me, pushing against me, his heavy body and faded cologne washing over me, making me go all warm inside. Here go those fireworks again . . .
“You’re lucky I have to get to work,” he growls, leaning in and biting my neck.
I scream and slap at him. “Ack! Go away!” I’m laughing as he tickles me back.
And then suddenly he’s gone. He’s back on his feet, walking out of the room.
“You’re leaving me?” The words are out before I can stop them.
