Love on the Edge of Time

by Julie A. Richman

  Kylie returned his smile but did not speak.

  Crossing the room to her, he extended a hand, which she took, standing gingerly, as if she had sea legs or muscle fatigue after sex. Leading her to the edge of the bed, “Sit,” his voice was soft, yet firm.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked up at him, trying to figure out what he had in mind.

  “Jeans off, missy. Hop to it. We don’t have all day. It’s time to take those tongue lashings you were promised.” Kneeling down next to the bed between her legs he tugged at her now open jeans, whipping them over his shoulder as soon as they’d cleared her. With an unexpected jolt of her calves, he pulled her ass to the edge of the bed, spreading her wide.

  “Tongue lashings?” She appeared pleasantly surprised.

  “You said lasher’s choice,” and with those final words, he dove in, finding her secret spots with ease.

  Grasping at his wet, spiky hair, she clenched her thighs to his ears, her release coming hard and fast. “I love you, Jesse.” The words tumbled out as she crested. “I love you,” gasping she said it. She finally said it.

  Pulling his face away, he laughed. “Of course, you love me. I just went down on you. Sorry Toots, but that one doesn’t count.” And with his lopsided grin, he gave a playful slap to the insides of her thighs.

  ••••••

  “What are you doing?” Kylie rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she came up behind Jesse at his desk. With darkness still outside the windows, she surmised it must’ve been around three in the morning.

  “Just clearing my mind.” With a click of the playing card, he flipped it from its worn, red-plaid side to its face and placed the seven of diamonds down on a long column of like-suited cards. “I play solitaire when I get stuck writing and it generally frees my mind and helps me through my block.”

  “That deck has seen better days,” Kylie laughed as she watched him continue to count and flip cards. “We need to get you a new deck.”

  “No. No. No. This is my breakthrough deck,” he protested.

  “You’re a little superstitious,” there was surprise in Kylie’s voice.

  Looking up, he gave her his lopsided grin, “A lot superstitious, Toots. These cards help me break through a barrier. I’ve had them nearly as far back as I can remember.”

  Softly Kylie stroked the animal hide journal sitting on the desk. “This is beautiful,” she mumbled as she leaned down to kiss the top of Jesse’s head. “I’ll let you work.”

  Looking up, he crooked his finger, indicating for her to lean down again, giving her a lush kiss. “That should do it,” he smiled, gathered up the playing cards and flipped open the ancient journal to finish the lyrics that were now ready to be written.

  Chapter 13

  Johnny Spinelli called me.

  And? He eased into the corner of the worn leather couch in the recording studio as he typed.

  He wants to talk about me doing some work with their clients. Promises to make me the “IT” girl and keep me working more steadily than Blaise.

  Awesome news, Toots. Will you have any contractual issues?

  I don’t think so. I don’t have an exclusive with Siren. Most people are with a few agencies to get good client coverage. But I’ll run it past a lawyer.

  Why don’t we have my lawyers take a look at it.

  Thanks, but I can just send it to my lawyer. Opening her desk drawer, she unsuccessfully rifled through papers in search of a business card.

  Kylie, I’ve got a team who have kept me out of a lot of trouble or fixed it when I’ve gotten into trouble.

  LOL…then I know they must be good!! She closed the desk drawer.

  No shit! LOL. That’s why I keep a TEAM of them and make them earn their money ☺.

  Bwahaha…sold! If they’ve kept your ass out of jail, then I KNOW they can protect me.

  LOL, ain’t that the truth. I’ll get you an email address and let them know it’s coming. And babe… He sat up on the couch.

  Yes…

  Congrats! You totally deserve this. LOL … I have this feeling I’m going to keep those lawyers busy you know, fighting assholes off you.

  Oh?

  Those douches need to understand one thing.

  And what’s that? Smiling, she could feel his testosterone rising with each text and she was loving it.

  Toots, you’re mine.

  The prickle of the hair on her arms made her shiver as she read his text. Say that again…

  Kylie jumped as the phone in her hand rang. “Yes,” she answered with a Cheshire grin.

  “Toots, you are mine,” his gravelly tone couldn’t hide his smile.

  “But are you mine, Jesse?” She challenged.

  “Do you really need to ask that?” There was surprise in his tone and a hint of something else.

  “I just did.” Kylie held her ground.

  His sigh was audible, punctuated by loud silence before he spoke again.

  Forever the showman, she thought, smiling a wide smile he could not see, as she waited for him to speak again.

  “Kylie,” his voice was gruff, tensed by emotion. “Babe…”

  She cut him off. “Jess, I know you love me. I really do. But loving me and being mine are two very different things. You can love a lot of people.”

  “That’s true,” he acquiesced. “But not the way I love you. You got under my skin. Slowly. I mean, in the beginning it was just sharing the regression stuff and working out together and getting to know each other and hanging out and talking. You know, becoming friends. And before I knew it, you were a part of me in a way no one else has ever been. It was true and pure. If that makes sense.”

  Silently, Kylie nodded her head as if he could sense her understanding.

  “Toots, you know me. Only a handful of people know me. I have let you in to a place so deep, that it is dangerous. It is dangerous to feel what I feel. And I know you know that. No one else is getting to that place besides you. And there’s only room for you for as long as you choose to remain there.”

  Would forever work? she ached to ask, but didn’t because she knew the words I love you needed to be verbalized first and although she ached to say them, she wasn’t going to do it via a phone call.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” was the depth of the sentiment she was able to share.

  “Then, please, don’t question if I am yours. Just know, know with everything you are, that you don’t have to worry about it. If you’re off on shoots or I’m on tour, know with all your heart, that I am yours.”

  “Does that mean that there won’t be groupies attached to your dick after a gig?”

  There was a deep chuckle emanating from his throat and she knew he was smiling. “Oh, babe, the only thing attached to my dick will be my hand and hopefully we will be Skyping and you’ll be showing me that gorgeous, glistening, pink pussy of yours.”

  Kylie laughed, “Might need to be the phone if I’m on my back.”

  “That’ll work. Just promise me one thing, Toots.”

  “What’s that?” She wondered what he was going to ask.

  “Every day that we are apart because of your work or mine, I want you to send me a picture. It can be intimate, because we do know how much I love your pussy pictures. Or it can be goofy or you in full make-up or just getting out of bed or whatever. I’ll do the same. This way we see each other every day when we can’t see each other.”

  “I love that. I promise, I will do that.”

  “My daily Mine fix.”

  As Kylie searched for the document to send to Jesse’s legal team, the realization became clear, she could finally see just how protective of her he had become and how he proved it through the generosity of his spirit. It was the nuances, like making sure she was legally covered, where Jesse not so subtly proved that mine was not just an empty word, but rather, a code by which he lived.

  Mine. For the first time in forever, Kylie Martin truly felt she belonged. They belonged. Together.

>   ••••••

  With masterful precision, Bob Kreutzer slid the fader on the soundboard very slowly toward his chest. About halfway down, a thought occurred to him.

  “Jesse,” he pressed the mic button to talk to his artist. “We got that. That extra riff on the chorus really works. Good add. How about if before we cut for the day, you give me a vocal on that chorus at the very end. I’ll play you the mix first so that you can hear it and then let’s lay down vocals on the second run through.

  Nodding, Jesse perched on the high, three-legged stool and pulled the vocal mic to a comfortable level. With focused intensity, he listened to the segment Bob sent to his headphones. After the first pass-through, he nodded to his engineer to let him know he was ready.

  With precision born of many studio hours, Jesse’s vocals began at the perfect juncture, laying down the voice track for the very end of his upcoming album’s title track, “Fade to White.”

  On the last of his guitar takes, he began riffing at the end, something Bob had not expected, but captured. He’d gotten caught up in the moment and went where the music took him and now Bob wanted him to let go vocally in the same way.

  Closing his eyes, he waited for his moment and the trademark gruff voice filled the recording booth.

  A movie scene fades to darkness

  But our score never ends

  After a brilliant crescendo

  It’s always ʼtil we meet again

  Fade to White

  As Bob watched through the window above his console, he witnessed the contortion and pain on Jesse’s face, knowing the rocker was going someplace deep and dark. When he began to sing again, his voice began as a raspy whisper, surprisingly exposing the top reaches of his falsetto. Bob knew that he was witnessing maybe the most honest and pure moment of Jesse Winslow’s recording career as he listened to the haunting melody. Sitting back to cross his arms over his chest, he needed to quell the shiver that had run up his spine and down his arms. The engineer could not remember another moment in his career that had elicited such a strong, visceral reaction. Pure Gold, the voice inside his head already knew.

  A movie scene fades to darkness

  But our score never ends

  After a brilliant crescendo

  It’s always ʼtil we meet again

  Fade to White

  When he finished the stanza, Jesse stood and turned away from Bob. The engineer could tell from the tension in the musician’s shoulders that Jesse needed a moment, so he slipped out of the control booth and into the hallway.

  When he returned a few minutes later, Jesse was waiting for him in the control booth.

  “Do you think we got it?” he asked.

  Bob just nodded.

  The two sat in silence for a few moments when the engineer turned to him to present a thought that, by the look on his face, had just occurred to him.

  “Hey, would you possibly be interested in recording some of the tracks at Abbey Road? I’ve had time booked for months to work co-engineering with Chris in Studio 3 for Monkey Flesh, but obviously that’s not going to happen now.”

  “Wow. The rest of the band doesn’t want it to lay tracks?” Monkey Flesh’s lead singer/guitarist was recuperating from a motorcycle accident that left him with more broken bones than ones left intact.

  “No. I tried to talk them into that. Psychologically they are all a mess,” confided Bob.

  “Wow,” Jesse’s mind was racing a hundred miles per hour. “Studio 3. It’s legendary, man. Dark Side of the Moon. Amy Winehouse’s last tracks. That’s some pedigree and a great vibe. And you and Chris. When do you have it?”

  “In three weeks, for three weeks.”

  “Hmm.” Jesse tapped his foot. Pulling out his cell phone, he checked his calendar app. “That would get me back in time for my showcase.”

  “What showcase?” The engineer inquired.

  “Just doing a small five-hundred-seat club downtown to test out the tracks solo in front of a live audience.”

  “You think you’ll hook up with the band for any of this?”

  Looking down, Jesse shook his head, “No, this stuff is too personal. This is about me in a way I’ve never been able to share before, and I want that to be a gift for my fans…and do it in a really intimate setting where it’s just me, my guitar and them. Totally personal.”

  “It’s going to go over well in small venues. Fans are going to be clamoring for seats.” He paused, “So, London?”

  With a lopsided grin, “That’s an offer I can’t refuse. I’ve never recorded at Abbey Road and heck, that’s every kid with a guitar’s fantasy. And Studio 3. Nice. The lunatic is in the studio,” he sang taking off on a Pink Floyd riff.

  Bob laughed.

  “That means I’ve got a shitload of writing to do between now and then. I’d love to lay down enough tracks for an LP and maybe some extras for an EP, get the whole project, pre-mastering, completed by the time we leave London.”

  “We can absolutely make that happen. Especially if we’re in the groove and I’ve seen enough of what you’ve already got written to have a feel for where to take it.” Bob’s creative wheels were spinning.

  ••••••

  He was on her the minute she opened the door, needing to feel her soft, alluring curves molded against him as his lips crushed down in a bruising kiss. Walking her backwards, he kicked the front door closed behind them. As each day passed, this woman became more and more his partner in all aspects of his life. With her New Jersey street smarts and tell-it-like-it-is persona, she was the rare gem that was always going to give him the truth and not blow smoke up his ass, merely because he was Jesse Winslow.

  “Do you want to come with me to London for a few weeks?” The moment their lips parted, he blurted his news out like a kid with a secret he was bursting to contain.

  “What? When?” She laughed at his excitement.

  “Bob was supposed to work with Monkey Flesh and one of the engineers at Abbey Road in three weeks.” Reaching forward, he let a lock of her hair slide through his fingers.

  “I could probably come for part of the time.”

  “Why not all?” He was giving her a look that said I will fuck you to death daily.

  “Hopefully, I, too will be working. I’m meeting with Johnny on Tuesday after my appointment with Claire and he said he’s got a big surprise for me.” She positioned herself across his lap.

  “You don’t have to,” his voice was a whisper and without his eyes leaving hers, his right hand moved slowly up her skirt, tracing small circles on the inside of her thigh with his forefinger. As he reached the lacy edge of her thong, he stopped for a moment before rubbing her heat on the outside of the fabric. Watching her pupils dilate, he laughed and repeated, “You really don’t have to work.”

  Spreading her legs a little for him, hoping to coax his fingers under the fabric for what awaited him, she shook her head no. “I’ve always supported myself. I can never give up that independence and freedom.”

  “You are so fucking badass and hot.” He smiled down at her. “I still want you with me for as much as possible in London.” Laughing, “Damn, I’m being needy.”

  “I promise, I’ll try and spend as much time with you there as I possibly can if you’ll put three fingers inside me right now.”

  “Now who’s the needy one? Only three? That all you can handle, Toots?” His cock was aching inside his jeans.

  She laughed. “Shut up and get me off.” The last word getting garbled in her throat as Jesse plunged three fingers into her and his thumb pressed down on her clit.

  ••••••

  Rolling over in bed, she nestled her head on his warm chest. “I’m blowing off my appointment with Claire today.”

  “Why?” His voice was thick with sleep.

  “I’m certainly not going to do a regression before my meeting with Johnny, and sometimes I walk out of there feeling more fucked up than when I walked in. This way, I can take my time get
ting ready, look my hottest and be totally clear-headed.”

  The low growl in his voice was followed by his lopsided smile. “Toots, you look your hottest with my cock rammed all the way into you and your hair spilling all over my chest.”

  Without wasting a moment, Kylie’s hand went in search of the morning hard-on waiting for her. Slowing stroking his rigid length, she clenched her own vaginal muscles, feeling her wetness readying her to take him deep with one plunge. Slinging her legs over his slim hips, she lowered herself all the way down, her gasp drowning out his. Slowly, she lifted all the way up, until he was out of her and she could rub his soft tip along the length of her opening.

  “Ready for more?” Her eyes flashed the challenge. Before waiting for a response, she had engulfed him fully yet again.

  “Fuck me hard,” he demanded and she set a ravenous pace solely focused on getting herself off on his cock. “Sit up a little more, I want to see your tits bounce.”

  She leaned back on his cock, straightening up.

  “Yeah, just like that.” Reaching with both hands, he grabbed her nipples, twisting them hard, making her groan from the pleasurable pain. Her reaction made him crave more and he pinched them hard enough to hear her whimper. Pulling her forward by her breasts, he sucked the left nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue to cool down the sharp pain and then sucked the right nipple into his mouth.

  Rolling Kylie off him, his cock still buried within her and her nipple firmly entrenched past his teeth, he plowed into her hard as he continued to suck voraciously.

  “Suck harder,” she could hardly get the words out. “Harder, please,” she begged.

  Switching back to the left nipple, he complied. As he sucked harder, her muscles tightened around his cock, squeezing him to climax. “Let me know when you’re ready.” He pulled his lips from her nipple momentarily to say, going back with renewed vigor.

  Moving to the rhythm of his thrusts, she tightened her thighs around his hips, simultaneously squeezing his cock hard with her pussy muscles. “Now,” the word caught in her throat. “Now. Come in me now.”

  Plowing into her, he could feel the pressure rising his length, building from his balls, an exquisite fuse erupting into her as he tried to bury himself deeper, sending his seed as far into her as he could get it.