“You planning to stay in for the rest of the night?” Joe asked me without turning around.
“Yes. Maybe tomorrow too. At least the morning. Why?”
“The boys want to go to the Red-Light District. I’d feel better if they went with a full security team. Don’t want them finding too much trouble. But I also don’t want to leave you unprotected if you’re going out.”
“Definitely go with them. I’d feel better knowing you were keeping them safe,” I said.
Izzy turned her head so that her mouth was by my ear. “You sure you wouldn’t rather go with the guys? Sounds like the perfect place for a rock star to be seen.”
Most of the time she was totally secure in our relationship, but occasionally it seemed as if there were these little doubts about why I’d choose to spend my time with her. Leaving one arm wrapped around her abdomen, anchoring her to me, I ran the other one up and down her arm, comfortingly.
♪ “What Makes You Beautiful” by One Direction
“Even if you weren’t here, I wouldn’t be heading to the Red-Light District. Going there doesn’t appeal to me. Unless…”
“Unless what?” Her beautiful lips turned down in a frown.
My mouth hovered near her ear, so I could speak directly into it, “Unless I went with you.”
She squirmed in my arms at the prospect but stayed silent.
“We’ll talk about it later. First, we have more important things to take care of.” I pressed my lips to the sensitive spot right behind her ear, eliciting shivers from her.
Ding. The elevator came to a halt on the seventeenth floor.
Once we were inside my suite, Joe set the bags of groceries on the kitchen counter and deposited Izzy’s suitcase in the living room next to the staircase. Izzy and I both toed off our shoes, a habit both our parents had engrained in us since we were kids.
“Need anything else before I round up the guys and head out?” He moved toward the door.
“Nah. I think we’re good. I’ll check in with you tomorrow if we’re going to go anywhere.” I gave him a one-armed bro hug. “Thanks for picking up Izzy for me.”
“No prob.” Joe pulled Izzy into a hug. “It’s good to have you back.”
“Missed you all too,” her words were muffled against his chest.
“Hey now, hands off my girl.” Playfully, I tugged her back to me.
He chuckled all the way out of the suite and into the hallway.
Once Joe left, I said, “Let’s put the groceries away, then I’ll give you a tour.”
“Your room is big enough to warrant a tour?” Her brow quirked up at me.
The suite reserved for us was the biggest I’d ever stayed in. And I’d stayed in some nice places ever since our second album dropped to huge acclaim. “Oh yeah. Wait ‘til you see it. There are lots of surfaces for us to make use of. But groceries first.”
“You sure you don’t want to go out with the guys? I wouldn’t be mad if… you know… you wanted to go… um… watch one of those shows.”
She was staring at her feet and twisting the hem of her shirt between her fingers.
“Isabelle, look at me.” I hadn’t used her real name in years, so it caught her by surprise. Wide green eyes met mine. “Yes, this is serious enough that I pulled out your real name. So, pay attention. I don’t want to go out with the guys to the Red-Light District. Or anywhere else for that matter. Maybe when I was nineteen I would’ve jumped at the chance. But ever since you and I decided to go all in, I have had zero desire to go clubbing or partying or anything with the guys. I might grab a beer with them on occasion at a bar. And I attend the mandatory meet and greets hosted by the label and the parties thrown by radio stations. But the entire time, I’m counting down the minutes until I can get back and call you. Does the record label hate it? Yes. They want me more visible. They want me partying and living the rocker lifestyle within reason because it makes for good publicity. But I don’t give a crap. We’re almost done with our contract, so they can go eff themselves. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good. Now let’s put these away.” I gave her a quick kiss before I turned my attention back to the kitchen.
I reached into one bag and pulled out strawberries, whipped cream, grapes and cheese. Working together, we put the items in the fridge. Then I unearthed a box of expensive chocolates, several bottles of Mt. Dew, a couple bottles of wine, ranch dressing and bar-b-que sauce.
“They sell Mt. Dew in Amsterdam?”
“I had Joe take me to this American specialty store, so I could stock up on your favorites. Then we hit up a couple other places to get some authentic Dutch treats.” Peeking in one of the last two bags on the counter, I carried it over by her suitcase. When I got back to the kitchen, she was pulling out a loaf of truffle cheese bread, a dozen oliebollen and ontbijtkoek with butter for breakfast in the morning.
Izzy folded the empty bags and stuck them on the shelf in the corner by the fridge. Reaching for her delicate hand, I intertwined our fingers, relishing in how they fit together like puzzle pieces. “Now for a quick tour. Obviously, this is the kitchen.” I tugged her through the doorway and to the left. “That’s the dining room table, I’m guessing. Or maybe for conferences. Who knows? We’re not going to need seating for eight in here. But it is a nice large surface for us to use.”
She ran her fingers across the shiny, light tan fabric of one of the chairs. Leaning forward, she sniffed a bloom perched in a vase on the table. The centerpiece was a beautiful rainbow of tulips, heavy on pink at my request. With a twist of a knob on the wall, sparkling lights twinkled from the crystal chandelier suspended on long cables from the second story of the suite.
She gasped. “There’s an upstairs to your room? How much did this cost?”
“The hotel actually comped our rooms this time and offered this one to me since we agreed to play a five-song set in their bar upstairs last night.”
“Wow. That’s awesome. I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t reserved this one just because I’m visiting. You already spent so much flying me here.”
“Make no mistake about it, I’d have paid for this suite for your visit no matter what. You deserve to be treated like a queen all the time. My queen.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but I silenced her with a soul-searing kiss. Her fingers slipped beneath the hem of my shirt, digging into the flesh of my back, pressing me closer. I was desperate for her. The tour of the suite was probably going to be cut short at the rate we were going. Forcefully, I tore my mouth from hers. “Come on, let me finish showing you our little slice of heaven.”
I led her to the right into the living room which had a couple of couches, chairs with matching ottomans, a large square table, flat-screen TV and windows looking out over the city. Izzy flopped backwards onto the couch and moaned at the softness of the cushions. She looked so inviting sprawled on the couch.
Yanking her back up, I grinned. “Tour’s not over.”
“We could take a little detour,” she said seductively, running her fingers in the edge of my waistband.
Quickly, I trapped her hand in mine. “Nu-uh. The first time I’m buried in you after a month without you is going to be on a bed where I have room and when I can take my time.”
Her lower lip jutted out in an adorable pout, which I thumbed gently. “Come on.”
With a dramatic sigh, she followed me. Twisting the silver knob on the door set in the corner, I showed her a bedroom. Two full-sized beds lined one wall while windows lined the other. The covers on the bed closest to the door were rumpled.
“Oooo, a bed,” she exclaimed and started to dive on it.
“Not this room.”
“But that’s your shirt right there,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, I tried sleeping in the master bedroom last night. But I kept reaching for you in my sleep and coming up empty handed. So, I moved down here halfway through the night. We might break in these beds at som
e point during your visit. But not first.”
She snatched up my discarded shirt and spun toward the door.
“Don’t you want to check out the view from the windows?”
“No. Right now, the only view I want is you naked above me. So, take me to bed or lose me forever.”
I busted out laughing at her Top Gun quote.
“Is that even a possibility?” I asked her seriously as I wrapped my arms around her waist.
“What?” Her head tilted back slightly to gaze deeply into my eyes.
“Losing you forever?” My heart ached at the mere thought of it.
Her fingers ran across my jaw. “Not in this lifetime or the next.”
The need radiating between us was a pulsing, living entity that couldn’t be denied or ignored any longer. “Rest of the tour can wait. I need you.”
Scooping her up in my arms, I dashed up the stairs.
She squealed and laughed. “Don’t drop me.”
“Never. I’ve got you.” It was more than a promise for the moment. It was a promise for forever. One of these days I was going to convince her of that. Ignoring the burn in my legs from running up the floating glass steps, when I reached the top, I turned in the direction of my destination.
♪“I Get Weak” by Belinda Carlisle
“Wow,” she breathed out when she caught sight of the sleeping area of the master suite. “You were busy.” I’d bought three dozen kaleidoscope roses arranged in three vases from a florist who hand dyed them in her shop. They were placed strategically around the room. There was also a bouquet of pink knockout roses on the headboard. And the bed was covered in pink rose petals.
“I wanted you to feel how much I love you when you got here. So, the three vases of kaleidoscope roses represent the three years you’ve officially been mine. I had them hand dyed because I knew you’d appreciate their beauty, and they’re a good representation of all the color you’ve brought to my life. And the big pink bouquet has one rose for every year you’ve had my heart. So, eighteen.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes. I carried her over to one of the colorful arrangements and set her on her feet. With a delicate touch, she stroked one of the blooms. “I’m glad I brought my camera. I’ve never seen anything so stunning.”
“I have,” I whispered in her ear as I rested my chin on her shoulder and admired her. I inhaled deeply, breathing in her sweet scent. “Mmmm. You smell good enough to eat.”
“It’s Happily Ever After,” she replied.
“Do you still like it?” It was a total gamble when I custom designed a perfume for Izzy. But man, it was the perfect fragrance for her.
“I love it. It’s perfect.”
“You’re perfect.” My lips trailed across the sensitive skin of her neck, leaving a variety of kisses in their wake—soft, hard, pecks, open-mouthed, nibbles and licks. Her head fell to the side giving me better access, which I happily exploited. She gripped the bottom of her shirt and started to lift, but I stopped her.
For several long weeks, I’d had to watch her undress through a computer screen. Now that we were in the same space again, I wasn’t going to be denied the opportunity to undress her myself. But first I needed to kiss her. With a hand on her hip, I spun her around.
Her face turned up to mine, and I moved the small number of inches necessary to connect my mouth to hers. Eagerly, her lips parted to allow me entrance. Without haste, I plundered her mouth, relearning every nook and cranny of the mouth I loved so much.
So as to keep us both at a slower tempo, I ran my hands down her shoulders until my fingers laced with hers. Then I wrapped our joined hands around behind her back. She moaned and clutched me tighter.
As the kiss became more heated, I backed her toward the bed. After unwinding my fingers from hers, I gently lifted her shirt, breaking our kiss so that I could lift it over her head. A flash of color and shine caught my eye once the fabric was out of the way. Delicately, I picked up the heart-shaped pendant to examine it. “New necklace?”
“Yeah. I made it. Do you like it?”
“You made it?” The rainbow swirled heart lay in my palm, a mixture of colors bleeding into one another, stunning in their chaos.
“Yeah. Something I’ve been experimenting with. I painted a bunch of designs on the back of some glass pieces one of my professors was going to toss. Then I turned them into pendants.”
“It’s beautiful and unique. Like you.” I lowered the tiny masterpiece back between her breasts. Then I reached behind my head and clasped a handful of my shirt and tore it over my head.
Reaching up, she tugged the beanie from my head I used to disguise myself earlier. I groaned when she dragged her fingers through my hair, scratching my scalp lightly.
With hands trembling in excitement, I unfastened my jeans and shoved them to the floor. I closed the gap between me and Izzy. My palms pressed against her sides, feeling the silky heat of her skin. Hard fingertips spanned her ribcage as her breath shuddered in and out of her lungs. The jerky rhythm was a song in itself, the bass groove. Her moans, the melody. Our hearts, the lyrics.
I reached around her and snatched the covers back, sending a shower of pink petals floating through the air. Lifting her, I carefully laid her on the bed as if she was the most precious thing I’d ever touched. And she was. Even if I had the occasion to hold the Hope Diamond, nothing would ever be more valuable than what I currently held in my hands.
Leaning up, she snaked her arms around my neck and planted scorching kisses along my collarbone while her hands skated down to my boxers. If she continued to touch me, the tempo to our love song would be shoved into fast forward, and I was determined to savor every moment of our reunion.
Gripping her wrists, I drew them over her head. Leaning against them, I pressed them into the mattress and gave her a breath-stealing kiss and ground my pelvis against her center. Too many layers separated us. When I pulled away, I said, “Keep your hands there. Don’t move. Understand?”
She nodded eagerly.
“Good girl, flutterby.”
With my mouth and fingers, I composed a song across her skin—a verse along her neck and collarbone, the chorus across her breasts, lathing the refrain on her nipples so they puckered beneath the red lace of her bra. Another verse written on her quivering stomach. The bridge played on the apex of her thighs. Her pants and sighs added lyrics in a language spoken only by the two of us. With a patience I didn’t know I possessed, I peeled her leggings from her body. My cock jumped to attention at the sight of her in the matching crimson bra and panties. The tiny scraps of lace left little to my imagination, but I appreciated the visual.
“Did you wear these for me?” My index finger dragged a line along the scarlet edge on her inner thigh.
“Mmmhmm. Bought them just for you,” she panted.
Sneaking one hand beneath her torso, I unfastened her bra. “I’ve still got it.” I grinned in triumph as the fabric fell away. Even though we weren’t official back then, being with her as a teenager had made me a pro at one-handed bra removal. Hooking my fingers in the thin waistband of her panties, I tugged them down her legs, baring her to me. Her scent filled my nostrils, making my mouth water.
Like a mighty tree, I planted my body between her thighs and leisurely kissed my way up her thigh.
“Dawson, please,” she keened. Her body wriggled, trying to bring my mouth to where she wanted it most. With one arm, I reached up and plucked at her nipples, alternating between them. Her heart thundered beneath my palm.
Putting my mouth to her body once more, I continued my song composition. Varying the tempo between long, languid licks and fast, sharp beats, I created a piece full of complexity. Her skin heated beneath me, flushing a beautiful pink, and her muscles tightened like a guitar string wound too tightly. I began spelling “I love you” one letter at a time, over and over with my tongue on her clit. I managed to brand her with the words four and half times before she shattered and fell apart.
A
s she floated back to earth, I kicked off my boxers and climbed up her body. Eagerly, she wrapped her legs around my waist and tilted her pelvis, aligning my body with hers. As I sunk deeply into her, I mentally blessed the day she got on birth control years ago, so there’d never have to be anything between us again. Once I was fully inside, I lay pressed against her, reveling in the feel of being surrounded by her. My body was connected to her body. My heart was connected to her heart. My soul was connected to her soul. It was a heady feeling.
When I could take it no more, I began to move. In and out. Bodies joining and separating in pleasure and love. Reaching the heights of heaven together, then floating back to Earth safe in love’s strong grip.
“I love you so much,” I declared, staring into her eyes as we shattered together.
“I love you too.”
I’d missed the feel of her in my arms, the taste of her on my lips, the sound of her in my ears, the sight of her in my eyes and the weight of her on my soul.
Chapter 3
Izzy
Slowly, I came aware of my surroundings. Strong arm wrapped around my naked torso, steady thud of a heartbeat beneath my ear, coarse hair tickling my legs, knee nestled against my core, fingers dragging up and down my spine, cock stirring to life on my thigh, muscles rising and falling under me.
“Am I dreaming?” I mumbled in a sleep-thickened voice. Lifting my head, I rested my chin on his chest.
“Mornin’, beautiful.” The smile on his face was brighter than the sun.
♪ “Good Morning, Beautiful” by Steve Holy
“Bite your tongue.” I chuckled. “Are you sure you haven’t been partaking of Amsterdam’s coffeehouse wares? I know what I look like first thing in the morning. Messy hair, sleep lines on my face, yucky morning breath.”
Beats of the Heart Page 2
