Our Harmony (Pitch Perfect Book 3)

Home > LGBT > Our Harmony (Pitch Perfect Book 3) > Page 4
Our Harmony (Pitch Perfect Book 3) Page 4

by H. L. Logan


  Goddamn Max.

  I’d sacrificed so much time, energy, and money for him, to keep our relationship together. He promised me the distance wouldn't be a problem, and I’d spent hours on the road going back home—a place I would’ve gladly never returned to if it weren’t for him—and spent money I could’ve used to pay my fucking rent.

  He’d fucked up so much for me. So much.

  I felt a warm push against my arm, and snapped out of my thoughts. Melany had nudged her forearm against mine. She was looking over at me, her gray eyes twinkling with the golden lights of the Riverwalk promenade. “Everything alright? You looked super intense there.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “My mind sometimes goes to… places.”

  “Happens to the best of us,” she said. “So why is it such a big surprise for you to have a good time?”

  I sighed. “I’m warning you, it’s a long story.”

  “It’s a beautiful night. If it gets too late, I’ll give you a ride home. Don’t worry about it.”

  Melany’s eyes searched mine and I looked away, my heart pounding like a kick drum. No, Kendra. Don’t.

  She was so hot though, and that wasn’t the alcohol talking. It’d been such a long time since I’d felt any kind of romantic spark with anyone, and I couldn’t deny that something was going on here. But I knew I couldn't get involved. I didn’t want to. I couldn’t handle having feelings for someone else, and I knew I didn’t want to just hook up, either. I wasn’t ready for anything like that. I didn’t think I could handle it.

  How far back do I go with this story? How much do I want to tell her?

  I started with Max’s story, but once I started going, everything just started to spill out of me. I ended up telling her the entire story; about how I’d been cheated on, how it’d killed my ability to drum, how I’d lost my mojo. I talked and talked, venting seven months of pent-up stress, and Melany listened quietly. By the end of it, we’d stopped and sat on a bench looking out over the river.

  “And, yeah. I’m pretty much fucked if I can’t make up the amount of money I’m losing.”

  “Wow,” she said.

  I cringed, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Hearing about the baggage of some person you just met is probably not your idea of a good date.” She looked at me, and I realized what I’d said. “I mean… It’s not a date. It’s… oh, fuck me.” I buried my face in my hands.

  Melany laughed, and I was surprised to feel her reach around my shoulder and give me a hug. My body pressed against her—she was warm, and her touch was oddly comforting. “You have nothing to apologize for,” she said. “I asked for the long story, you gave it to me. And we don’t need to call this anything. We’re just two girls who haven’t been on a date in a long-ass time enjoying each other’s company. I don’t know about you, Kendra, but I needed this. It’s always nice to vent, and I needed a distraction from my work. I’m glad we’re out on our—whatever this is.”

  She released me from her embrace, and I straightened up. My heart was still beating hard, but it wasn’t in an anxious way. I felt relaxed.

  “Me too,” I smiled.

  “So, I guess you’ll be out drumming again, then? I know you’ll make a killing doing it.”

  “Yeah, I will. I don’t have a choice, unless I can find other work. But it’s hard to find a job around here—even the restaurants aren’t hiring.”

  Melany nodded.

  I looked around. It was a weeknight, so the dinner crowd had thinned out, and now only a few late stragglers strolled around the walk. “Wow, I was talking for a while. I didn’t even realize how late it is.”

  She looked at her phone. “Mm. You’re right.”

  My heart skipped a beat when she reached down and gave my thigh a playful squeeze. “We could continue this conversation back at my place, if you’d like? We could pop open another bottle of wine, and I’d love to show you my records. I have a great sound system we can play them on.”

  Dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum. My pulse raced. “No, I’m okay.” The words rose to my lips, but then they got stuck there. I was so accustomed to turning people down.

  Instead, I said, “Yeah,” and smiled. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

  Melany grinned. “Awesome.” She pointed with her thumb. “My car is parked over there. Shall we?”

  The moment we pulled into her building, I found myself wondering about just how successful Melany was. The place was in an old brick warehouse that had been renovated into modern, luxury condos. Just from the lobby, I could tell that this was a place I’d never be able to afford to live in—I mean, she had a private elevator for a front door! When we got up to the condo, I did my best to seem unaffected by just how damn nice the place was.

  It had a huge, semi-open floor plan, with polished stone floors and huge windows that overlooked the city. The lights in the place slowly lit up on their own, and Melany went over to the kitchen and got out a bottle of wine from a special wine cooler that rose out of the floor. Out of the floor! Over by the windows was a sectioned off office space, and in the middle of the condo was a large leather sofa set in front of a gas fireplace bordered by shelves of vinyl records. On the opposite side of the condo from the living room area was a metal spiral staircase that led up to a bedroom up above.

  “I love your place,” I said.

  “Thank you,” Melany replied, handing me a glass of red wine. “Small portion, just to keep our buzz going.”

  “Thanks.”

  She walked over to the living room area and tapped the back of her couch. “Take a seat. What do you want to listen to? I’ve got everything from jazz to Japanese alt-rock to Norwegian death metal.”

  “It’s not drums, but you got any George Benson?”

  “Hell yeah, I do.” She ran her fingers along the rows of records, pulled out a sleeve, and then from it placed a vinyl onto her turntable. The rows of vacuum tubes on the amplifier glowed a warm orange as the equally comforting and sensual tones of George Benson’s guitar filled the loft.

  I sat down on the sofa. Typically, I would’ve felt slightly uncomfortable being in a stranger’s apartment for the first time, but I actually felt fine. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was because Melany was the first person I’d opened up to in so long, or maybe it was the fact that I was actually feeling attracted to her. I wasn’t an idiot—she’d invited me back to her place, and I accepted. I knew what she wanted. Maybe I’d subconsciously gone to George Benson for a reason—his slow, sexy jams were perfect for that. Maybe I actually wanted it too… It’d been a long time, and today had been an actual positive in a long line of negatives. Why not indulge? It could be a one night stand. People did one night stands all the time.

  What is this track? Oh, right. “Use Me.” That’s fitting.

  I sunk further down into the sofa, and downed the glass of wine. Melany came over and sat down next to me. Her thigh rubbed up against mine, and I caught her faint, delicious scent. My stomach was full of butterflies, and I felt a swell of excitement rush between my thighs. Yeah, it’d be nice to get laid again. I could use this. It’s just a one night deal, it’s just for fun. I realized then just how horny I was. I could feel that I was already wet. Well, that’s something I haven’t felt in a while.

  “You know,” she said, leaning a little closer so that our shoulders were touching. “I wasn’t expecting to connect so well with you. Tonight was a lot of fun.”

  Her hand slipped onto my thigh, sending trembling shocks through my legs to my stomach. I pressed my thighs together in some attempt to contain my excitement. I had no idea if she could see it or not. I didn’t care. At that moment, I really couldn’t have cared less what Melany had to say. I just wanted to see what she looked like with her clothes off.

  “Mm,” I said. Fuck it, I’ll go for it. I put my hand on hers and quickly leaned in to press my lips to hers. Melany seemed to freeze for a split second before she returned the kiss full force. I pushed her back, spl
itting away from her, and went for the buttons of her shirt. It wasn’t long before both of our shirts were tossed aside, and Melany had me down on the couch, her lips running all over my body. I moaned, pushing my fingers through her hair with one hand as I undid my jeans with the other.

  “We can go slow, if you want,” she murmured.

  “No,” I breathed. “No, I don’t want to go slow.” Let’s not beat around the bush here. Let’s do what we came to do.

  I wiggled out of my jeans, and as Melany brought her lips back to mine, she thrust her hand down the front of my underwear and curled her fingers up to meet my wetness. I gasped and threw my arms around her neck, pushing myself up towards her. Fuck, it’d been so long since anyone had touched me. Especially a girl.. I was practically aching for release, drowning in the pleasure of another woman’s touch. Yeah, I really did need this.

  “Wait.” I pushed her back and got down on my knees on the floor between her legs and undid the clasp of her skirt. I wanted her first. I drew down the zipper and shimmied it down her thighs. It was like I was unwrapping a present. I didn’t waste time being coy—I slipped my fingers under the band of her panties and pulled them down. She opened her legs for me, revealing her loveliness for me to admire. Damn, she’s gorgeous all over.

  “Oh shit,” she moaned as I brought my tongue to her. “That feels so good.”

  I pushed two fingers inside and massaged her as I made circles around her clit with my tongue, enjoying every little jerk and shudder of her body in response to me. She slid her hand around the back of my head, urging on my motions as she twisted her hips against me, moaning all the while.

  “My turn,” she breathed. “Turn around, bend over. Let me lick you from behind.”

  “Go easy, okay?” I said. “It’s been a while for me.”

  “Anything you want, Kendra,” she murmured, and I felt her lips dance across my ass cheeks, and I flinched in surprise when her tongue played over my pussy. My eyes fluttered back when her lips drew over my clit as her tongue flicked all over. Max had refused to go down on me, so it felt incredible to experience the sensation of Melany’s mouth on my pussy. I moaned when I felt her push a finger inside. Holy shit! It was just one finger, but the way she moved it made it feel like more. She knew exactly where and how to put pressure. She was slow and precise, unlike Max who loved to use his fingers on me like a fucking jackhammer.

  “Mm…” I pressed my face into the leather cushion.

  “Just a warmup,” she said, and I let out a breath as I felt her insert a second finger inside of me. She moved them slowly, curling them slightly to press against my spot. I was so wet, but I couldn’t hold back a shout. My fingertips clutched at the slippery leather of the couch. “Oh, God,” I cried.

  Melany knew just what to do with both her fingers and her tongue. God, did it feel good.

  “Okay,” I breathed. “Wow, yeah…”

  “Midnight Love Affair” was playing on the stereo now, accented by the sound of her fingers playing deep inside of my wetness. It didn’t take me long to become a quivering, orgasmic mess.

  I stayed bent over the couch, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. My world spun around me, and I finally regained control of my body, which was still tingling with the orgasm.

  Wow. That actually happened.

  Suddenly, with the intoxicating effects of lust wearing off, I felt awkward and self-conscious. I scooped up my clothes from the floor.

  “You were amazing,” Melany said. “Did you like that?” When she came over to kiss me I avoided her by quickly bending down to grab my shirt from where it had fallen onto the coffee table. I pulled it on, and Melany made no comment about my avoidance of her affection. Don’t worry, I’m sure she’s used to it. Probably has done it plenty of times. I grabbed my jacket from where I’d draped it over the back of a chair.

  “You’re welcome to stay the night, you know,” Melany said, finding her clothes.

  “It’s alright,” I said. “I’m actually not too far. I can walk it.”

  “Like hell you are. Don’t worry about it, I’ll give you a ride home.”

  We drove to my place in silence. I was glad that she’d driven me—I was actually quite far and would’ve had to walk through a seedy part of downtown—but I still felt awkward. It wasn’t that I regretted what had happened, because I didn’t at all. I definitely had wanted and needed it. But it just felt strange. I hadn’t been with anyone in such a long time, and even though Melany and I were just a hookup, she was incredibly attractive and if I weren’t so fucked up I could’ve seen myself wanting to be with her.

  Or maybe I felt strange because I was a little regretful that this was just a hookup. Maybe I did actually wish that I could start something with her. I wasn’t ready for something like that though. The thought of opening myself up to another person after what Max did to me, it’d be emotional suicide. Especially with someone as smooth and sensual as Melany. I was certain that our evening out was just part of her usual routine.

  “This is me,” I said, and she pulled over. I could see a bluish light flashing from behind the curtains of the living room window—Monica playing a game.

  “I had a great night,” Melany said with a smile. “I’d love to do this again sometime.”

  I smiled back apologetically. “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking this would be anything more than a one-time thing.”

  “Right,” she said. She seemed disappointed, which surprised me. Was this how she was with everyone she slept with? “Okay, sure. Well, I hope you don’t mind if I come by to hear you play again?”

  I shook my head. “No, of course not. Thanks for the encouragement, Melany. It really meant a lot to me.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Well, bye.” I slipped out of the car and hurried up to the front door. Melany waited until I was inside, and then drove way. Monica was on the couch, eyes glued to the TV.

  “‘Sup,” she grunted as I crossed in front of the TV to peek out of the living room window.

  “Well, that was something,” I said, sitting down on the couch next to Monica.

  “What, that triple kill? You know I’m a fuckin’ boss.”

  “No, what just happened to me.”

  “You went to dinner with a girl who watched you drumming.” She jerked up straight. “Oh, shit. No way. You guys… are in love?”

  There was an explosion on the TV, and Monica’s character somersaulted through the air. “You Died” appeared at the bottom of the screen.

  I shot her a baffled look. “What? No. No, we hooked up.”

  “Oh,” she said, sinking back in the couch. “Damn. Congrats. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

  “Seven months. Not since my ex, Max.”

  “Uh-huh. Right on. You’re officially getting more action than me. I haven’t gotten any in like, a century. So, you guys gonna keep fuckin’, or what?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “It was just a one-time thing.”

  “Gotcha. Well, it’s good to hear you’re out of your dry spell. I know you were having a hard time. Give me a high five.” She held out her hand. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging. Okay, at least give me the fist bump.”

  I sighed and bumped Monica’s fist. “I’m going to bed. I’m going to go back and play at the Riverwalk again tomorrow.”

  “Right on. Goodnight.”

  After taking a shower, I went to my room and slid into bed. When I closed my eyes, I could see Melany. I could smell the scent of her, taste her on my tongue, and I could still feel the way she’d touched me. My body was still tingling from the orgasm. Are you sure you don’t want her again?

  I quickly pushed the thought of my mind. It was just a one-time thing. I’ve got so much else to think about. This is just the start of things.

  Before I finally drifted off into sleep, I could only think about Melany.

  4

  Melany

  None of this made any fucking sense. After dropping Kendra off,
I ended up sitting on the couch where we’d fucked, staring at the wall with my chin in my palm. I couldn't stop thinking about her.

  She was just a hookup, so why couldn’t I stop thinking about her?

  I’d broken so many of my rules today. I’d asked her to stay over. I’d gone for a kiss after we did it. Hell, I’d told her that we could take things slow. “Take things slow” was not something you suggested to a hookup. And that’s all Kendra was: a hookup.

  Right?

  When I woke up the next morning, I found a bit more clarity. I jumped into my daily routine: I did my morning workout, showered, ate breakfast, listened to a record, and got dressed for work. Following the routine helped keep my mind on track, and the confusion of the night before seemed to be gone.

 

‹ Prev