Georgia Clay

by KG Fletcher

  “No problem. You’re just excited. Take a deep breath and relax and we’ll retake it, when you’re ready.”

  Clay nodded, shifting in his chair. Katie watched him inhale deeply three times before gesturing he was ready to Trent. They started the song again, the music coming in loud and clear through speakers in the control room. As the song progressed, Katie noticed a genuine smile cross Clay’s face as he moved to the rhythm. Vocals would be the last part of the recording process—something she wouldn’t be there for when they laid down the tracks in the next week. She wondered if he was secretly singing along to himself and wished she could hear his voice now. One thing was for sure, the music was incredible, everyone participating at the top of their game. When the song started to slow and eventually ended, Katie held her breath before Trent gave everyone a thumbs-up. The large room erupted with laughter and genuine accolades as Clay went around and high-fived each musician. Her eyes brimmed with tears, watching him. He was so excited being in his element.

  For the next hour and a half, the same song was played over and over until Trent was satisfied they had gotten what they needed for the scratch track. He finally announced they were breaking, and the group stood and dispersed, leaning instruments against stands and stretching. Katie was amazed at how much time and effort had gone into one song—and it wasn’t even the final music version, just the scratch track!

  “Hey, Pretty Girl!” Clay immediately picked her up and swung her around in a circle before kissing her on the lips. “What’d you think?” The gold in his eyes sparkled.

  “This is so cool, Clay! Thanks for letting me be here to watch.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He set her down and continued to hold her hand. “She’s not causing any trouble is she Trent?” he teased.

  “None at all. You’re doin’ great Clay. Keep it up, and we’ll be outta here in another hour or so.”

  “Awesome.” He pulled her into the lounge where a few of the guys were milling around fixing cups of coffee and shootin’ the breeze. He quickly introduced her as his girlfriend before pulling her through another door and down a long hallway. She noticed black and white photos of the Beatles displayed on the walls, an homage of sorts to Blackbird Studios.

  “Where are we going?” she giggled, clutching his hand tighter. He glanced her way and smirked. They went through one last door into a deserted lobby. He looked around before pulling her into the ladies’ restroom.

  “Clay? What are you doing?”

  When they were safe inside, he latched the door with a click. She leaned against the vanity, gripping the edge and watching with wide eyes as he sauntered toward her.

  “I got so worked up in there. I can’t even believe that just happened.”

  “It was amazing,” she whispered. A million bees buzzed under her skin as she watched his every move.

  “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” He approached her and ran his hand up the back of her neck into her hair, smashing his lips against hers. She could feel his thickness through his jeans pressing into her thigh. His kisses became carnal, his lips speckling her cheeks and ears, her neck and chest. Quickly, he turned her around and hoisted her maxi dress up to her hips. She could hear him unzip his jeans before he yanked her panties down and dipped his fingers inside her. Her back arched as he fondled her wet nub.

  “Are you okay with this?” he panted, his hot breath floating down her neck. All she could do was nod.

  “Bend over, baby. I’m gonna go hard and fast. I need you so badly.”

  Leaning over the sink, she felt him slide in and whimpered for just a moment before her insides wrapped around his hardness, welcoming him in. She watched his reflection in the mirror as he recklessly pumped her from behind, his exquisite face filled with pleasure. His orgasm came quickly, and he shuddered against her back, spilling inside her. He spent a few more minutes stroking her, taking her to the edge before her eyes fluttered and shut. Her orgasm rushed through her, making her want to scream his name at the top of her lungs.

  Her head rolled back against him, and she felt his warm lips kissing her tenderly on the neck, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She couldn’t move—she wanted to stay in that bathroom with Clay Watkins inside her wet folds forever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  As an Executive Account Manager for a national insurance organization, Katie was privy to numerous strategy sessions to determine what kind of insurance benefits employees of substantial corporations needed. She was among the top in her field, often asked to be an ambassador for the only company she had ever worked for at several conferences throughout the year. Several rumors were murmuring among her coworkers that she was up for the prestigious Client Satisfaction Award in the industry. She took pride in her work and believed with all her heart that every citizen in the United States should have access to affordable healthcare. It felt like her life-calling. To be honored with an award, especially for client satisfaction, would be a dream come true.

  Part of her success was the fact that her phone was always on, ready to accommodate her clients no matter what time zone they lived in. This drove her best friend, Stacey, crazy. There had been a handful of times where Stace deliberately took Katie’s phone and hid it, demanding that her friend stop the madness and live her life in the moment, not by her client’s beck-and-call. At first, this infuriated Katie, but after a few times, she got the hint and would purposely power her phone off in front of her friend to show her camaraderie. Now that Clay was her official boyfriend, it was going to be a lot harder for her to turn the phone off in front of her, especially with his crazy schedule.

  “The Nashville trip was good, huh?” Stacey asked, leaning over her bowl of piping hot Pad Thai. Her perfect brow furrowed as she concentrated on wrapping the thin noodles around her chopsticks.

  “Yes. Very good. I told you, Clay started recording on Saturday. It was cool.”

  “So, he’s coming to Atlanta this weekend?”

  Katie lay her chopsticks on the side of her plated ginger flounder. “No. Unfortunately, he can’t make it this weekend. He’s on a tight schedule with the record. The label wants it completed before the Ryman Anniversary show next month.”

  Clay had called the night before, letting her know they were behind schedule, having to work through the weekend. Of course, she was disappointed. Her parents had been looking forward to meeting him, and she was excited for Hart’s reaction as well. He promised if things changed, she would be the first to know.

  Stacey scowled. “That sucks. Now, what are you gonna do all weekend?”

  “I don’t know. Pine for him?” She laughed. “Hang out with Hart…” The minute his name left her lips, her eyes widened, and she pursed her lips, momentarily forgetting she had promised her brother not to let anyone know he was in Atlanta.

  “Hart’s coming into town?”

  Taking a sip of her cocktail, she bought some time. “He might. He mentioned it in our last phone conversation,” she lied, not wanting to tell her bestie that Hart had moved in with her while he was looking for a new job in Atlanta, although he hadn’t done much looking since he took over her guest bedroom. A typical day in the life of Hart Parker included working out for several hours during the day, staying up late and drinking lots of alcohol. He seemed depressed, and she wasn’t sure how to deal with him, figuring she’d let him mourn his old life for a week, then have a stern talk with him later.

  “Well tell that big brother of yours I said, ‘hey.’”

  “I will.”

  The lights were on in the kitchen when Katie got home; her big brother passed out on the couch with the TV blaring. A scowl crossed her face when she noticed dirty dishes in the sink and remnants of a meal he had attempted to cook all over the stove. The least he could do while being a guest in her home was clean up! Huffing, she set her purse on the kitchen table and started on the dirty job. The deliberate noise she was making putting the dishes into the dishwasher must have woken him
up. She was startled to see him standing in the kitchen doorway scratching the scruff on his face.

  “I was gonna get to that,” he mumbled.

  Katie glared at him wiping down the counters. “Seriously, Hartford? When? After another six-pack? No, wait. Maybe after another late afternoon siesta, then you can get to it.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s just a few dishes.”

  She squeezed out the sponge she had used, set in on the back edge of the sink and wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Hart, maybe it’s time you went home and stayed with Mom and Dad.”

  The expression on his face fell as he took a step toward her. “No! I’m sorry about the dishes, okay? It’s been a shit-week trying to come to terms with everything that happened. I just… I needed to be a bum for a few days. I’m sorry if I made a mess. I promise I’ll do better.” He ran his hands through his disheveled hair and sighed, his facial expression displaying morose. “Please don’t tell Mom and Dad I’m here. I need to let them down easy.”

  Katie crossed her arms and leaned her hip on the counter. His comment about letting their mom and dad down easy was understandable. Hart was the all-American-son of the popular Parker family. In their parent’s eyes, he could do no wrong. “Tell me what happened, Hart. You owe me that much.”

  Nodding, he averted her glare, his eyes traced with defeat, and she followed him into the living room. When they settled, Hart forlornly told her his story.

  “Our firm landed a pretty prestigious Washington client several months ago. It was a ton of wheeling and dealing. The president of the company loved me. When we processed all the paperwork and the deal closed, a big celebration party was planned. I was stoked. This one deal landed me the biggest commission of my career.”

  Katie felt a pang of sympathy travel to her chest. The whole family had been so proud of him, especially her father who loved to tell his golfing buddies about his successful son who was following in his footsteps. This news would surely crush him. She could feel it.

  “The party was this huge, black-tie event held at their new space on Independence Avenue a few blocks from the White House. The dinner was great, the open bar fantastic…”

  “Uh-oh,” Katie mumbled.

  “Yes. Uh-oh.” Shaking his head, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands back and forth. “The president of the company introduced me to his lovely daughter. I’m not gonna name names, but she was hot, Katie. And when I say, ‘hot,’ I mean hot! We hit it off immediately. She was single; I was single. This hot girl wanted to celebrate, so we started throwing back Agave Patron shots like they were water. Before I knew it, she had pulled me into her father’s new executive office, and we were fucking like horny teenagers on his mahogany desk…”

  Realizing her mouth was on the floor, Katie bit her lip and watched her brother as he continued to finish the story.

  “Her father walked in on us with a group of guests following behind. He wanted to show them some fancy-schmancy military antique, and we were busted.”

  Visions of her naked brother pounding a rich, society girl bent over her father’s giant desk caught like a deer in the headlights came to her mind. “Hartford! What happened next?”

  His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I was escorted out of the party by security, humiliated in front of my peers… and my boss. The hot girl begged her father not to pummel me on the spot. I was let go the next morning.”

  “Oh, my god. Why did you even think that was a good idea to have sex in this man’s office? I mean, that’s like something out of a horror movie!” Katie couldn’t help but think back to the previous weekend when she and Clay had fornicated in the bathroom at the recording studio. It wasn’t the same, but it still made her blush.

  “Katie, I was pretty drunk, and she was egging me on! I felt…invincible! All I wanted to do was celebrate. I wasn’t thinking… well, with my brain anyway.”

  Katie smirked trying to keep her giggles from escaping her mouth. It didn’t work. “No, dear brother. You were not thinking with your brain.”

  Knowing what happened made her feel better. There had been no fraudulent behavior or harassment which meant nothing would go on his permanent HR record. His behavior at a party of that significance, however, was highly unethical, especially for a client of that standard. Hart wasn’t a troublemaker—he was a thirty-two-year-old grown ass man making good bank and sowing his wild oats. Katie knew he had been lonely, always working, much like herself. He made a mistake. His career was still young enough that he could move on without too much drama. “At least you got a severance. They could have fired you on the spot for that kind of behavior.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m grateful for that. I’ve brought them a hell of a lot of revenue over the past couple of years. If it hadn’t been the client’s daughter I was screwing, it might have turned out differently.” The expression on his face softened as he looked at her with the same Parker eyes she had. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I know I’ve let you down.”

  “Hart…” Standing, she crossed the small space between them and looked down at her older brother. “I’m more disappointed for you, not at you.” Pulling him up by the hands, she stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re my successful big brother, and I love you. Something better is going to come along. It may seem like you’re in a deluge of rain right now, but the sun will rise tomorrow.” She kissed him on the cheek and wrinkled her nose. “You need to shave.”

  Hart smiled, giving her another bear hug and making her squeal. “You sound like Scarlett O’Hara. Don’t be tellin’ Mom and Dad about this, okay?” His face showed concern.

  “I won’t. But don’t leave your crap all over my house anymore. Get yourself together, Hart. You’ve had a week to grieve. It’s time to get on with your life.”

  “Yes, ma’am! Tomorrow is another day!”

  ***

  Clay paced in the kitchen area of Studio B at Blackbird Studios, keeping an eye on the decorative, giant clock on the wall. They were breaking for dinner before pulling an all-nighter, trying to get the last of the songs recorded. The past few weeks had flown by, nearly every tune on the record finished and highly praised by Trent, Buddy, and some of the other bigwigs who curiously visited the studio to take a listen. It seemed like everyone at Warner Music wanted to come by and see what all the fuss was about with their new artist, Georgia Clay. Listening to the playback of songs was very surreal. Clay was used to listening to other artists sing and play his songs. Hearing his own playing and singing on his original arrangements gave him an incredible sense of accomplishment, his career in Nashville finally feeling like it was falling into place how it should. The one agonizing drawback was not being able to see Katie. How he wished she lived closer. They spoke every day on the phone, but it wasn’t the same. When he told her they were going to have to miss yet another weekend together, she became extremely quiet which disturbed him.

  “I know I promised we’d see each other this weekend. It just can’t be helped, Katie. The Ryman show is in less than ten days. We’ll have that entire weekend, and by then, the recording will be finished.” When there was no response, he thought maybe the phone had died and pulled it from his ear to make sure he was still connected. “Katie? Are you there?”

  “Yes. I’m here.” Her voice was small.

  The drummer and bass player walked into the kitchen, having an unusually boisterous conversation. Clay nodded at them before going into the hallway where it was quiet. “Baby, I said I was sorry. I had no idea it was gonna be this intense to start. Rest assured, it won’t be like this forever.”

  “I know,” she sighed. “I just miss you so much. Ten days isn’t that many. We’ve already been apart for several weeks, so what’s ten more days?”

  Hearing her say out loud that she missed him sent a rush of emotion to his heart. When his mind wasn’t on the music, it was definitely on her. “I miss you too, Pretty Girl.” The ache he felt was real. “Promise me
you’ll wait. Promise me you won’t let the distance become an issue.” Closing his eyes, he waited for her response.

  “I promise.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  The tiniest hint of fall barely tinged the tops of the trees near Monteagle against the backdrop of the bluest sky. Clay accelerated up the mountain, hoping to be in Atlanta before sundown. The all-nighter they had pulled did the trick. Everything was recorded—every instrument, every lyric, every backup vocal. It was finished. After a colossal wrap party in the studio Saturday night attended by all the musicians and their wives or girlfriends, Clay couldn’t take it anymore, the pining and yearning for Katie overwhelming. He finally had a couple of days off before rehearsals began for the Ryman show and all he could think about was getting to his girl.

  It was almost six in the morning before Clay’s head hit the pillow and he slept longer than he intended. His body must have needed it. After a long shower and a shave, he packed an overnight bag, grabbed his guitar, and set off for Atlanta to surprise Katie. It was a gamble, not giving her a heads-up. She’d mentioned before that her family got together once a month for dinner. He hoped and prayed that this was not the night of their family reunion.

  Traffic was light on the perimeter of the city of Atlanta. He remembered her gate code and pulled into her condo complex as the sun was starting to dip in the west. Before he left Nashville, he had purposefully stopped by the store to grab a nice bottle of wine which was near the floral section where a bouquet of purple hydrangea flowers caught his eye. With his overnight bag in one hand, the wine and flowers in the other, he approached the door with a grin on his face, ready to reunite with his girlfriend. He rang the bell and stepped back with his chest out, anxious to see her reaction. It was freakishly hot outside, the humidity settling into his pores, causing his skin to glisten with sweat. Nerves started to creep into his being as he rang the bell again. Surely, she was home on a Sunday evening?