Susan opened her purse and took out a mini tape recorder. She set it on the table. “Shut up and listen.” She pushed the on button and a low melodic tune filled the air, surrounding Devra with heat and fire. Her breath caught and her nipples hardened with each note played. Devra set her drink down with a thud.
“What the hell?” She continued to listen to the poignant playing. Her body was in total meltdown, her clit throbbing to the beat of the song. What was happening?
Suddenly the music stopped and Devra opened her eyes. Opened them? When had she closed them?
She glanced across the table at Susan to find her sitting there with an “I told you so” look on her face.
“Okay, you've got my attention. What's the deal?”
Susan leaned forward and spoke softly. “His name is Joshua Thomas and he's drop-dead gorgeous. His looks alone could make you cream your panties.”
Devra rolled her eyes. “Come on, Susan, get real. No man is that damn good.”
“He is. His eyes are dreamy yet dangerous looking. When he looks at you, it's like you're the only one in the room. Like he's playing just for you.”
Even though she thought the whole conversation was utter nonsense, Devra had to admit she was definitely intrigued. If what Susan said was true, this man was every woman's dream and probably the star of many X-rated fantasies. It sounded like this Joshua Thomas would make a great story for her column.
The ideas and possibilities flittered in her mind, flirting along the edges of her consciousness. It had been a long time since a man had caught her interest. Especially one she'd never laid eyes on.
This was too much! What in the hell was she thinking? It was ridiculous and yet, she couldn't seem to stop thinking about it. But she needed more to go on, like where was he playing? How often did he play? Did he have a wife, mistress, or lover? Her mind whirled, her instincts kicked into overdrive. Oh yeah! This man was definitely top priority for her.
“Susan, when and where is he playing again?”
“Tomorrow night, right here.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Devra sat back in her chair, a cocky grin widening her mouth. “Because I've decided to see exactly what Mr. Joshua Thomas is all about.”
Susan slid the mini-recorder toward Devra. “Somehow I knew you would say that, but fair warning. Be ready for the ride of your life.” Susan drank the rest of her drink, collected her purse, and flitted out the door, leaving Devra with the bill and a question.
What the heck did she mean by her parting statement? Be ready for the ride of your life. She snorted. Was the man going to give her a ride on his piano?
Damn, if she couldn't wait to find out. Now all she had to do was convince her uncle to let her do a story on the mysterious Joshua Thomas. Which wasn't going to be easy, unless she found something unusual about the guy.
Devra motioned for the waiter and the check. “Can you tell me how often Joshua Thomas plays here?”
“He plays here every Saturday night. There's a poster by the door with all the information on it. Check it out on your way out.” With a smirk, he mumbled, “Here comes another Saturday regular,” then left Devra pondering her next move. Research! That was the ticket. “No time like the present.”
Devra gathered up her purse and headed for the door, stopping long enough to check out the poster. Disappointment filled her when she found there was no picture of Joshua, nothing at all, just times and dates for his next performance. That didn't deter her, though. If anything, it made her all the more determined to find out all she could about the mysterious piano player.
Chapter Two
“This sucks,” Devra muttered. “I never get sick. Never! So why now?” She grabbed a tissue just in time. A sneeze that made her head hurt erupted. Wiping her nose, she drew the thermal blanket more tightly around her body where she lounged on the couch, just as she had for the past week. Her head rested against the back of the couch, the television turned low while another episode of Perry Mason played. She loved Perry Mason and Raymond Burr, the actor who played him. The younger version of Burr had inspired several fantasies when Devra was younger. Those broad shoulders, piercing eyes, even his mind turned her on. Of course, that was a long time ago. Now she enjoyed just watching him, especially when she was ill.
Dammit! Her shot at Joshua Thomas was postponed due to a bout of flu. The morning after her meeting with Susan, Devra woke with her head pounding, her stomach churning and a bone-wracking fever. She'd called Susan, who immediately came over, brought some chicken soup and juice, and told her to stay in bed. The next call she'd made was to her Uncle Bob at the newspaper. He told her to get well and not to show her face in the office until she was one hundred percent. Last, she'd gotten in touch with Trixie Robinson in research and asked her to send her all the information she could find on one Joshua Thomas. Trixie asked a question or two that Devra didn't feel like answering, so she'd told Trixie, “Don't ask questions, just do as I ask.” Devra had given Trixie her email address and then hung up.
She'd felt bad for being so abrupt and really couldn't explain it, but she didn't want anyone else to know about Joshua Thomas. Oh, it was for professional reasons, of course. She couldn't have anybody scooping her story on this guy now, could she? But in order for there to be a story she had to find out something about the guy. Devra was still a little ticked that Trixie hadn't turned up anything more than what she'd sent. She'd hoped for a picture, or something. Anything to prove this guy existed. But she'd read the information Trixie had been able to find over and over in the past few days. There simply wasn't much there.
No, you just don't want anyone else to know about this man who almost made you come in your panties a week ago.
“Oh, shut up,” she mumbled. However, she couldn't deny the small truth in what the voice whispered. She closed her eyes and replayed the song from the tape. Each note was filled with hunger. It fairly pulsed with it. She wondered what was going on in Joshua's mind. Did he write the songs? Were they an extension of his emotions? And if so, how in the hell could he make her nearly climax with just a few strokes of the piano keys?
She rubbed her eyes and yawned. She was tired. Maybe she would stretch out on the couch and take a little nap. Devra shifted and turned her body until she was lying down on her side, her hands resting beneath her cheek. Closing her eyes, Devra yawned again and moved a bit to get more comfortable. After a couple of minutes she drifted off to sleep, her last thought on Joshua Thomas and his music.
* * * *
Joshua could feel the power raging through his body with each note he played. The audience was over ninety percent women—hot, horny women whose thoughts revolved around him and riding his body. He hated it. It was like this every time he played. Each woman fantasized about being with him, beneath him, riding him. It didn't satisfy his needs. These women were all the same. He wanted a woman who would stand up to him. A woman who wasn't afraid of her own sexuality, who could and would pleasure herself without a qualm.
What he wanted was his true mate.
He was playing the last few notes of his new song when a soft sigh brushed his mind. What in the hell? That had never happened before. Joshua lifted his head and gazed around the room looking for the one who had touched him. He reached out with his mind and silently cursed. Damn! She wasn't here. How could she have left? He hadn't seen one person get up and leave since he'd started playing. He played the last few notes, and then stood and left the stage quickly. The audience clapped, whistled and begged for more. Normally he didn't mind obliging, but not tonight. He had something else on his mind. Something that he felt was more important.
Joshua walked down the hallway and pushed open the outside door and walked out. Closing his eyes, he leaned against the building intending to rest just for a moment. He wasn't prepared for the soft brush again. His eyes flew open. He searched the parking lot and the grounds, looking for whoever was doing this to him. However, no one was there.
He raked his hand th
rough his black hair. “What the hell is going on? Am I losing my mind?”
Joshua needed answers and he needed them right away. Flipping open his phone, he punched in his parents' number. It was picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?”
He smiled at the sweet sound of his mother's voice. “Hello, Mother. How are you this evening?”
“Joshua,” she said. “I'm fine. What about you? Shouldn't you be playing now? Is something wrong?”
He sighed. “I've finished my set. I don't know if something's wrong. Can I come see you and Father? I need to ask you something.”
“Of course you can. I'll tell your father you're coming. Be careful.”
Breaking the connection, Joshua took a deep calming breath and let it out. His parents would have the answers he needed, they always did.
* * * *
A short time later he pulled into his parents' driveway. Their house was a split-level ranch, painted a pale yellow with sage-green shutters, and located in one of the older suburbs. The neighborhood was a quiet place with mostly older folks living there now. For a moment, Joshua just sat there in his car looking at his parents' home—a home that was always filled with warmth, love and laughter. The kind of home he hoped to have one day.
He watched as the front door opened and his mother stepped out onto the porch. He got out of the car and smiled at the petite woman who never waited until he reached the front door.
“Joshua, I'm so glad you're here.”
“Hello, Mother.” He opened his arms, content and happy when her arms wrapped securely around him, enveloping him in her loving warmth. He breathed deeply, catching the scent of cinnamon and sugar. Ah … she was baking cookies, his favorites if the aroma wafting from the open front door was any indication.
“You're baking my favorite cookies.”
His mother pulled back and looked into his eyes. “Of course, why wouldn't I do something for my precious son?” She took his hand and tugged him toward the front porch and into the house.
“Come on. Your father is in the kitchen and has probably already eaten too many cookies.”
Joshua laughed heartily. “You're probably right. Let's hurry, then.” Arms linked together, they walked down the hallway and into the well-lit kitchen where they found his father sitting at the table, a cookie poised at his mouth and a sheepish grin on his face.
“Hi Dad,” Joshua pounded his father on the back. “Eating all the cookies, I see.”
“Joshua, my boy, how are you?” He took a bite of his cookie and made an mmm sound.
Joshua's sad mood had immediately lifted at being in his parents' home. “I'm fine, Dad.” Joshua reached over and snatched a cookie from the dwindling pile, stuffed the whole thing in his mouth and chewed with gusto.
His mother chuckled and patted his forearm. “Joshua,” she admonished with amusement. “I taught you better manners than that.”
Joshua finished chewing and swallowed the cookie before replying. “I didn't spill any crumbs, and I didn't waste it.” He grinned broadly, and then grabbed another one, but took a bite instead of inhaling it.
“Sit. Talk. What brings you here?” his father asked, waving him to a seat.
Joshua's smiled faded, his cookie no longer quite as tasty. He pulled out a chair opposite his father and sat down. Resting his elbows on the table, he clasped his hands together and tried to figure out how to ask his question.
Finally, he just blurted it out. “Does a true mate really exist? Is there really a woman out there for me who can satisfy all my needs? By herself?”
Joshua's mother walked over and placed her hand on her husband's shoulder. They looked at each other and smiled. Their love was apparent in every way possible. Just thinking about it brought a smile to Joshua's face.
After a few moments of gazing into her husband's eyes, his mother finally spoke. “Oh yes, Joshua. There is definitely such a thing as a true mate. A person who can give you everything you need to survive and more.”
“But, how will I know when I've found her?” He snorted. “It's not like she'll be wearing a bright neon sign that flashes 'True mate! Come and get me.'“
His mother giggled. “Oh, Joshua, you are a joy to my heart.”
She walked around the table and sat beside him. Taking his hand in hers, she continued, “You will know her. When she is near, your heart will beat as hers, your body will desire hers beyond anything you've ever felt before. And when she's not near, you will feel her mind brush yours, seeking the touch of lovers, of true mates.”
Joshua's breath caught. “A brush in my mind? Mother, I think I felt that tonight. Explain this feeling to me.”
She shrugged. “It's like butterfly wings against your cheek, a soft, delicate flutter almost too faint to notice.”
Joshua let out the breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. He threw back his head and shouted. He cradled his mother's head between his palms and buzzed her cheeks.
“I have found her! Er … well, I've touched minds with her anyway.” All the anxiety left his body in a rush. “At least now I know that she is here, in the same place as me.”
Letting go of his mother's face, Joshua sat back in his chair and told his parents what had happened. “I was playing my music at the club when I felt a light brush just like the one you described. I looked up from the piano, glanced around the room and tried to find her, but she wasn't there. Somehow she had left without my ever knowing she was there. After the set was over I left the club and walked outside. As I stood there leaning against the building, I felt it again. It was like a sigh—a light, breathless sigh.”
“So you found her outside then?” his father asked.
Joshua shook his head. “No. I probed the parking lot and searched out the touch but couldn't find it. She wasn't there.” He slapped his open palm on the table, not hard enough to damage it but enough to vent his frustration.
“Dammit! I don't know where she is or, for that matter, where to start looking.” He ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair.
“Joshua,” his mother said softly. “She's out there and you'll find her. You say the brush in your mind was light? Faint ?”
He nodded.
“Then she wasn't there to begin with. The lighter the touch the farther away they are.”
“So how the hell am I supposed to find her then?”
His mother patted him. “You draw her to you, with your music, and your hunger.”
He mulled over his mother's words. “So I just keep playing my music until it draws her to me? God, Mother, that could take forever and I don't want to wait that long.”
“Did you try to follow the link back to her?”
“What? What do you mean did I follow the link back? How the heck do I do that?”
“Tsk, tsk, my son. Didn't you listen to anything we taught you about true mates?” his mother admonished.
Joshua felt the heat climb his cheeks. “Not as I should have, Mother. Please tell me how to do this.”
His mother smiled, nodded and proceeded to tell Joshua how to find his mate.
When he left, Joshua knew what he had to do.
Chapter Three
Devra was pissed. Two weeks! Two weeks lost on her story about Joshua because of the flu and then recovery time. Trixie, in research, had come through with nothing Devra could use. No pictures of the illustrious player, no tabloid stories about womanizing. Nothing! It was as if the man didn't exist outside of the jazz clubs he played.
An insane thought struck and Devra chuckled at the absurdity. “The man is an alien,” she muttered, sorting one more time through the meager amount of information Trixie had given her. “He plays his little piano, gets everyone all hot and horny, then walks out to his spaceship and disappears.”
Today would be her first day back at work in a couple of weeks and already she was running behind. It was those damn dreams. Erotic dreams filled with music and a lover whose very touch seared straight to her soul, his
hands caressing her body, his fingers circling and pinching her nipples and sliding into her wet heat. Just thinking about them sent a shiver of awareness down her spine.
God! She was horny. Actually, now that she thought about it, she'd been in a state of heightened arousal since the night she'd first heard Joshua Thomas's music wafting from the tiny recorder. Keeping the tape probably hadn't been one of her wisest decisions and was most likely behind the dreams. Yet, for some reason Devra couldn't fathom, she just couldn't let it go. She played the melody over and over and each time the desire was hotter, heavier than the last.
Her vibrator had gotten such a workout, Devra would swear it smiled at her. But, it didn't come close to assuaging the hunger. All it did was build it even higher, until she couldn't stand it anymore. She needed a man. Now! Unfortunately, not any man would do. She wanted the faceless lover of her dreams. The man whose touch seared straight through to her soul.
“Get a grip, girl,” she grumbled to her heated body. “We've got work to do.” Devra finished dressing, grabbed her brown leather briefcase and keys and headed out the front door.
She locked the door and turned to face the new day. A beautiful cool summer morning greeted her. The sun was a bright yellow ball hanging in the sky and the scent of roses and hyacinths filled her nose, bringing a smile to her face. June was her favorite month because that's when everything bloomed. She loved her flower beds and enjoyed working in the soil, getting dirt under her fingernails. It had been one of her mother's favorite pastimes as well. Devra had spent long hours as a child working side by side with her mother, pulling weeds, and planting seeds. Sadness clouded her eyes for a moment. Her mother wasn't there anymore. Maybe once she got Joshua Thomas out of her mind, and down on paper, she would come home and plant some flowers.
She looked back at the house where she grew up and felt a sense of joy and peace. Devra was glad that Uncle Bob hadn't let her sell the place during her mourning period. It would have been a shame to see the two-story Victorian style house with its wrap around porch unkempt or torn down.
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