Georgia Clay

by KG Fletcher

  Katie almost covered her ears with her hands because the shrieks and clapping of the audience were so loud. It only lasted a moment, the silence in the room immediately so prevalent you could hear a pin drop as the audience hung on every note and every word. The haunting melody was stripped down in the unplugged version Clay played. Moved to tears, Katie listened as he told the story through music about a love that he would never get over. She looked around the room at the mesmerized faces of his fans, tears streaming down more than one person’s face in the crowd. She could see the emotions the song conveyed and the profound effect it had on people. It was a captivating experience hearing the song performed by the creator himself. This was a moment she would never forget. It was pure magic.

  When Clay strummed the last note in tandem with the haunting, sustained, single note of the fiddle player, it was as if time stood still. His head was bowed as if in worship, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took. Katie couldn’t imagine the exertion his entire body had gone through in conveying the emotions of the incredible story told through music. The roar of the crowd startled her as she watched every man and woman stand, offering Clay a heartfelt ovation. When he looked up and into the crowd, his eyes locked in on hers. She didn’t realize she was on her feet too, clapping with everything she had and nodding with pride, staring back at him through glistening tears. He absolutely took her breath away.

  *

  Clay had given it his all, putting every emotion and every ounce of energy he had into his songs that night. Looking around at the clapping crowd on their feet, he took in deep breaths through his nose while feeling sweat trickle down his back and cheeks. His eyes locked in on Katie who was nodding and clapping, noticeable tears streaming down her face. Pure joy erupted in his being, knowing that he had moved her through his music. He offered her a genuine smile, thinking to himself she was the most beautiful girl in the room. The trio of musicians stood and bowed, then Clay stood slowly to another deafening eruption of the crowd roaring. Exhausted, he held his hand up and waved. The house lights came on, and the room was abuzz with excitement, audience members swarming the small stage area for autographs. Typically, he didn’t mind meeting fans of his music, happy to sign whatever they shoved into his face. Tonight was different. He was anxious to be with Katie and get her take on all of this.

  “Oh, my gawd,” an over-zealous, twenty-something girl vocalized dramatically when it was her turn to have Clay’s attention. “Can I get a selfie with you? Please?”

  Clay smiled casually. “Sure.”

  The girl immediately got into his personal space, clinging to his waist and leaning her face against his shoulder. He stood stiffly as she held up her phone wrapped in a sparkly pink case and clicked a button several times before kissing him quickly on the cheek. “You’re my favorite country artist, Georgia Clay!”

  Embarrassed, Clay shrugged. He had never gotten used to the star-struck fans who fawned all over him. “Thank you so much.”

  “She’s right you know.”

  Clay looked to his right, his face lighting up with recognition. “Hey man! Good to see you!”

  He bear-hugged his friend Buddy Collins. Buddy was a bigwig at the Warner Music Group overseeing new talent in the Nashville division. The huge record label conglomerate was the third largest recording company in the global music industry next to Universal and Sony, its headquarters located in New York City. It humored Clay that he and Buddy had hit it off when one of his very first songs hit the charts several years ago. Buddy was just a good ole boy, the two of them bonding over several fishing trips on his property outside of Nashville in the prestigious Brentwood area. Clay made it very clear from day one that he was not interested in being a touring artist—that he was a songwriter and had no intentions of going out on the road to perform as a solo act. Buddy begrudgingly accepted Clay’s choice, but because they had become such good friends over the years, every so often he would broach the subject, especially after another Georgia Clay song would make it into the top ten.

  “How many times do I have to try to convince you that you’re a true country artist, Clay? I mean, did you not see the reaction tonight? Imagine what that would be like in an arena tour!”

  Clay laughed, running his hand through his disheveled hair. “And how many times do I need to remind you that I’m not interested in a world tour.”

  The two friends laughed, Buddy conceding and shaking his head. He put his hands on his hips as a serious expression crossed his rugged features. “Seriously, that was incredible tonight. You had the entire audience captivated with every note and every word. I’m proud of you.”

  Clay blew a puff of air out of his nose and shrugged. “Thanks, man. I enjoy the intimate setting of the Bluebird. It’s a pretty special place.”

  Buddy nodded in agreement. “It’s where you were discovered. I get it. Some of the greatest country artists of all time played here. Garth, Taylor… Clay Watkins.”

  “Good try, Buddy,” Clay laughed.

  “Let me buy you a drink. We need to compare calendars and get us a fishing trip lined up.”

  Clay handed off his guitars to one of the tech team. “I got company tonight, bro.”

  “Company?”

  Clay sheepishly smiled, shoving his hands into his denim pockets. “Yeah. A girl from my old high school in Atlanta drove up to see me.” He looked over at Katie’s table and noticed her chatting with the waitress. “I’m kind of busy tonight.”

  Buddy nodded with a smirk on his face. “A girl drove all the way from Atlanta to see you?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, are you gonna introduce me?”

  Clay rolled his eyes. “Real quick, then you need to go.”

  “Such a bossy country artist,” Buddy teased, making Clay laugh again.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Every fiber in Katie Parker’s body was on high alert as she watched Clay make his way toward her through the dispersing crowd. She stood with shaking knees and gripped the side of the table finding it difficult to breathe. When he was close enough, she unexpectedly flung her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his skin inhaling his warm, sweaty aroma with tears pricking her eyes.

  “Hey,” he whispered. “Hey… what’s wrong?” He pulled her into a tight embrace, his voice filled with concern.

  “You were…wonderful,” she managed to mutter into his neck. She was mortified that her emotions were getting the best of her.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  She could feel his fingers stroke the back of her hair and shook her head. “I don’t know…it was an emotional experience, watching you. I’m overwhelmed… and star-struck.”

  Clay pulled back from her; his eyes narrowed and intense. “It’s just me, Katie. It’s me.”

  She nodded staring into his caramel eyes, bashfully wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, embarrassed by her outburst. The presence of a large, burly man in a conservative button-down shirt caught her off guard.

  “She’s right Clay. Your performance is an emotional experience. You could touch a hell of a lot more folks if you took your show on the road.”

  Clay wrapped his arm around Katie’s waist and snickered. “This is my annoying friend, Buddy Collins. Buddy, this is Katie Parker.”

  Katie looked up at the big man through her damp lashes, trying to pull herself together as she stuck her hand out to shake his. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you. Don’t pay any attention to the emotional woman in the room.”

  Buddy laughed and stuck his hand out to shake her hand firmly. “Don’t worry. I’ve seen this happen more times than not. It’s what occurs when you’re in the presence of true talent.”

  She watched Clay shuffle his feet as if he were uncomfortable with his friend’s praises, his grip tightening around her waist.

  “Just hear me out Clay, then I’ll be out of your hair so you can enjoy your friend. I have a spot for you in September—at the highly acclaimed Warner Music
Nashville anniversary show. It’s at the Ryman.”

  “The famous Ryman Auditorium?” Katie interjected excitedly.

  Buddy offered her a brilliant smile. “Yes. The famous Ryman Auditorium. The same place Clay’s daddy always wanted to see his boy perform one day.”

  Clay glared at his friend with piercing eyes. “Buddy, that’s enough. You know I’m not interested.”

  Katie was shocked at his outburst and pulled back from his hold to look at him. “Are you kidding me? Why wouldn’t you be interested in performing there?”

  “It’s complicated, Katie.” A pained expression crossed his brow.

  “Just think about it. This would be the perfect venue to introduce the world to the brilliant performing artist that you are. Everyone in Nashville already knows it. It’s time for the world to know it too. I’ll need an answer by next month.” He turned to Katie and smiled again. “It was a pleasure meeting you, young lady. Hopefully, you can talk some sense into our boy.” He looked at Clay with purpose one final time. “Seriously, really think about this. It’s a step in the right direction, and you know it. You’re ready, son.” He patted Clay lovingly on the shoulder before he turned and walked away.

  Clay ran his hand up and down the back of his neck while looking at the floor, obviously out of sorts. “I’m gonna grab my gear, and then we can go. Give me a few,” he mumbled.

  “Okay.” She watched him walk back to the stage before glancing toward the door where Buddy was paused laughing with the doorman. Quickly, she strode across the room to him.

  “Hey, Buddy?”

  He looked at her with surprise. “Yeah. What’s up?”

  Katie quickly glanced over her shoulder to make sure Clay wasn’t watching. “So, why would Clay be so adamant about not doing your show? What’s going on?”

  Buddy sighed, shaking his head. “He’s got some personal issues that go way back darlin’. It’s not my place to discuss it with you without his permission. Maybe you can talk about it while you’re here visiting? He needs to move on from his past and concentrate on his bright future.”

  Katie nodded, unsure of what Clay’s past might include. “Thanks. I’ll definitely ask him about it.”

  Buddy smiled before pushing open the door and walking out into the night. Katie headed back to the stage where Clay was clasping the latches on his guitar case.

  “Are you almost finished?” she asked tentatively.

  He looked up at her with a boyish grin, all traces of his previous somber mood gone. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

  ***

  It only took Clay fifteen minutes to drive back to his place on lower Broadway in downtown Nashville with Katie following close behind. He was lucky to live in the historic 1910 building that had a two-bay garage. The entire renovated structure was divided into three, single level condos with his on the third floor. He motioned for her to pull in right next to him before closing the automatic garage doors.

  “Oh my God,” she said standing next to her car. “This place is awesome!”

  He grinned and pulled out two guitar cases before slamming the truck door. “Do you need any help with that?” he asked, eyeing her rolling suitcase.

  “Nope. I got it.”

  He led her into a dark hallway with exposed brick and ancient hardwood floors and pressed an elevator button. The two of them eyed each other shyly, which humored him.

  Sticking his key into the elevator console, the cab slowly climbed to his private entrance on the third floor. He watched Katie stare at the numbered lights above the door as they ticked by, her doe eyes wide. The elevator opened to his entryway where he flicked on a panel of lights, illuminating the giant great-room with exposed brick walls and twelve-foot floor-to-ceiling windows revealing the downtown area. Leaving her suitcase in the hall, Katie skipped to a window taking in an audible breath.

  “You’re in the heart of Nashville!” she gasped, looking down at the busy street below.

  “Yep. I’m three blocks from the Riverfront, across the street from the Johnny Cash Museum and one block from the Ryman. You could definitely say this is the heart of the city.” He set his guitar cases behind the back of a tan sectional couch situated in the center of the room. Flicking on another set of lights, focused LED beams of light slowly came on, highlighting a trio of 3-D framed artwork set against crimson backdrops. Vintage, white lacquered instruments including an electric guitar, acoustic guitar and banjo were featured in the center of the frames.

  “Wow,” she muttered, looking at the artwork before taking in the expansive room.

  Clay’s home was very minimalistic. He only furnished it with what he needed. Besides the sectional and glass coffee table, he had a huge television mounted on the wall and three barstools pushed under the marble island. The kitchen was deluxe with an impressive gas stove with built-in grill and gigantic sub-zero fridge.

  Still reeling from Buddy’s proposition, Clay strode to the fridge to grab a beer. He needed to relax and focus on Katie. “You want a cold beer? I got a wine chiller under the island. Not sure what’s in there. I can open a bottle of anything you want.”

  She looked at him from across the room with her hands on her hips and smiled. “A cold beer would be great.”

  He grabbed their beverages and popped off the tops with a bottle opener, then made his way back to Katie and handed her the beer.

  “Cheers,” he said, clinking his bottle with hers.

  “Cheers,” she replied looking up at him through her long lashes. Damn, she was gorgeous. He watched her lick her moist lips after taking a swig causing his manhood to stir. Their chemistry was undeniable.

  “You have a real nice place here, Clay,” she said. “All your hard work has definitely paid off, huh?”

  Clay nodded taking a long pull on the bottle.

  “One bedroom and bath?” she asked, smiling.

  He nodded, motioning with the bottle toward a natural wood barn door on an artisan hardware track system. “Through there. There’s a half bath by the front door.”

  “Uh-huh,” she nodded, eyeing the large door. When she turned back around, he watched her approach him, her dark eyes almost black in the dim lighting. They were nose-to-nose, and she gently took the bottle out of his hands and set it on the kitchen island.

  “What are you doing, Pretty Girl?” he whispered. His entire body was tingling with anticipation.

  “I need you hands-free,” she whispered back. She paused in front of him staring up into his face obviously waiting for him to make the first move.

  “Hands-free to do what?”

  A sly smile crossed her face, and she blushed, looking down at the floor. Using his fingers, he tipped her face back up to where they were eye to eye. “Hands-free to do what?” he asked again with intensity.

  “To fuck my brains out…”

  Clay pursed his lips with surprise. “What a naughty thing to say.” He couldn’t help it and suddenly lunged at her, his mouth consuming hers, his hands gripping her scalp pulling her taut against his body. His hardness pressed into her thigh as his tongue pummeled her mouth with ferocity. She pulled on his t-shirt which he tugged up and over his head, flinging it to the floor, her hands immediately fondling his skin. She grazed her fingertips over his throbbing denim-covered penis before he felt her unclasping the button of his jeans and forcefully tugging them down over his hips.

  Breathless, they pulled back from each other, their eyes locking for a split second before she fell to her knees consuming him with her mouth.

  “Oh, fuck!” he exhaled, stumbling to the edge of the sectional, gripping the back of the distressed leather. Her wet mouth moved up and down his length taking him to the brink of orgasm within seconds. He threw his head back, marveling in the experience, thinking he might come all over her beautiful face.

  “K…Katie…oh, God. Katie, stop.” She didn’t let up which caused him to laugh out loud at her gumption. She was naughty and incorrigible. What a combination. Looking dow
n, he could see her looking up at him with wide eyes that were traced with determination. He needed to show her who was the boss.

  Grabbing her by the shoulders, Clay lifted Katie to her feet and gruffly turned her around, bending her over the back of the furniture.

  “What are you doing?” She giggled.

  With his jeans around his ankles, he lifted her flowy skirt and jerked her panties off in one fell swoop. “Spread your legs, Hot Mama,” he demanded. She shifted, her bare ass spread out in front of him, still wearing her heels. She was the sexiest woman he had ever been with in his life.

  “This won’t take long,” he managed to say before stabbing her wet pussy with his throbbing cock. He gripped her long hair by the nape and showered her cheek with kisses, thrusting her hard. His other hand was under her shirt and bra pinching her nipple, making her groan with pleasure. He was about to come hard and fast.

  “I…I can’t hold back.”

  “I’m almost there,” she whimpered.

  He grabbed her by the hips and pounded her with everything he had, the two of them screaming out at the same time.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The weight of Clay Watkins was heavy and sweaty as he leaned across her back. When he pulled out, Katie took in a sharp breath, the nerves in her swollen clitoris sending aftershocks throughout her entire body. He gently turned her around, and she had to grip the back of the couch to maintain her balance as she looked up at him. They both panted, Clay’s naked body glistening in the dim light.

  He offered her a cockeyed smile as he bent over to pull up his jeans that were still around his ankles. Her skirt had floated over her exposed area, and she reached under her shirt to adjust her bra back over her breast. She watched him scowl and run his hands through his damp hair.

  “Shit, Katie. I’m sorry. I…I didn’t use a condom.” His eyes were full of worry. “I got caught up in your amazing blowjob…”