Counterpoint and Harmony (Songs and Sonatas Book 5)

by Jerica MacMillan

  When he realizes I’m not trying to get away, he loosens his hold, allowing me to adjust my position. But he doesn’t allow me to kiss him again. With his hands cupping my head, he holds me in place, my own hands still resting on his cheeks.

  “Charlotte Baxter, I love you. I’m in love with you, and I don’t see that changing. Ever.”

  My breath catches at his use of my own words, but he’s changed it to be more emphatic.

  “I thought—you haven’t said it. At all. Not since …”

  A look of pained regret crosses his face. “Not since December. I know. I’m sorry. I should’ve started saying it again that night Lauren came and brought me to your hotel. That was when I knew that there was no fighting this, no getting over us, over you. No matter how much I’d tried between December and that night, it was always an exercise in futility.” He pauses, swallowing.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  He brings my forehead to his and closes his eyes. “Because I’m an idiot. I was worried … I thought you’d get tired of me. With me still here and you off being famous, I figured there was no way anything between us could last, so what was the point in trying for more than what we had? I didn’t …” He swallows and pushes my head away from his just far enough to look me in the eye. “I didn’t want to hold you back. Drag you down. Keep you from being as awesome as you are.”

  I release the breath I’ve been holding, my entire torso deflating. Sitting back, I let my hands slide down to his chest, though his arms are long enough that his stay in place, and narrow my eyes at him. “You really are kinda dumb, aren’t you?”

  With a soft laugh, he cracks a smile. “That’s what I’ve been saying, isn’t it?”

  Now I laugh too, then lean in to kiss him on the forehead. He closes his eyes at the contact, but opens them again when I pull back. With a crooked smile on my face, I shake my head. “You don’t drag me down. You keep me grounded. You make me feel like someone cares about me, not just about my star status. In fact, I think that’s probably the thing about me you like the least.”

  His head tilts to the side, like he’s thinking about it.

  I let out another laugh. “Please. Don’t even try to deny it. That’s the thing that’s sent you running for the hills more than once.”

  He opens his mouth, but closes it again. Then his eyes narrow before he says, “To be fair, that wasn’t the only issue the first time.”

  A wave of sorrow washes over me, and my shoulders slump again. “I know. I am sorry about the way that all happened.”

  His hand moves to my cheek, tilting my head to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to keep apologizing, Charlie. While I still don’t like that I found out the way I did, I understand why you were hesitant to tell me. And my reaction, both then and this weekend, didn’t exactly prove your fears wrong.”

  I bite my lip to keep from agreeing with him, but something in my face must give me away anyway, because he gives me an acerbic look.

  “You don’t need to gloat, you know.”

  “I’m not.” But my voice is choked with laughter.

  He stares at me for a moment longer, but cracks a smile. “Anyway, the point is, I don’t care about that anymore. You don’t need to apologize. I know you’re sorry for the way things happened and that you never meant to hurt me. I’m sorry for not having more faith in you, more faith in us.”

  Shaking my head, my smile breaks free of my attempts to bite it back. “You already apologized. I know you’re sorry and that you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

  He narrows his eyes at me again, and I let loose my laugh. “Seriously, can we consider apologies given and accepted and move on?”

  “Gladly.” His hands slide down my torso, and he grips my hips, tilting me toward him. “What does moving on entail, exactly?”

  I draw my finger down his chest, following the path with my eyes. “Well …” I draw the word out. “I do want to know that you’re not going to ask for time away from me the next time our pictures end up in the tabloids.”

  “Never. I don’t want time. Now that I know there’ll be a next time, I can be ready for it.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, one of his hands intercepting mine as it approaches the level of his belly button, catching my wrist and placing my hand back on his chest, where he holds it in place with his own. “I knew people were taking pictures at the concert, but because, as we’ve established, I’m a moron, I didn’t expect to see them splashed all over my Facebook feed the next day.”

  “Always expect to see pictures of us splashed all over your newsfeed.” I give a little shrug. “That way you’re pleasantly surprised if you don’t find them.”

  “Okay.” His other hand inches up my back, pressing my body closer to his. “Anything else?”

  I let him pull me close, but stop when my mouth is inches from his. “Is this for real? We’re together? I can announce to the world that you’re my boyfriend? You’ll go with me to awards shows and all the red carpet crap?”

  “Yes.” With that simple answer, I let him crush my mouth to his, sliding my arms around his neck and pressing myself as close to him as I can.

  His arms wrap around me, and he leans us to the side till we’re both horizontal on the couch. One hand finds its way under my shirt, his fingertips tracing lines and swirls over my ribcage on their way to capture my breast.

  He swallows my gasp of pleasure as he pinches my nipple, his tongue delving into my mouth. Writhing beneath him, I tug at his shirt, wanting it off, wanting mine off, everything off. My legs are still wrapped around his hips, and I press against him, sliding myself against the hard bulge behind his zipper.

  Tearing his mouth away, he blinks at me from behind his glasses that are sliding down his nose. Disentangling my hands from his hair, I carefully slide his glasses off, fold them, and set them on the coffee table. Then I bring my hands back to his cheeks and bring his mouth to mine, pressing a sweet kiss to his soft, swollen lips.

  I love having him like this, all disheveled and breathless, his pupils blown with lust, his eyes heavy with love.

  “I love you,” I whisper, then kiss him again.

  He chases me when I pull back, kneading my breast and tasting every corner of my mouth. When I’m panting and arching into him again, he breaks the kiss with one final swipe of his tongue across my lower lip. “I love you too, Charlie,” he whispers back. His eyes study my face, a small smile curving his beautiful mouth, then he pushes himself up and stands. Catching my hands, he pulls me up too. “I don’t know when my roommates are planning on coming home. But once I get you naked, I don’t plan on letting you get dressed again for a long time, so I think we should go to my room.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Dal segno al coda: a direction that tells the musician to go back and play from a marked section earlier in the music and skip to the coda when indicated.

  Damian

  I close the door behind Charlie, marveling at the fact that she’s here in my room, in my space, again. It’s … mind-blowing. This gorgeous megastar is here with me. Everyone wants a piece of her. She could have anyone, be anywhere, and she’s choosing me.

  Choosing us.

  It’s a gift that I’m not sure I deserve, but I sure as hell plan to try.

  Her smile slips as I stare at her, and she looks a little uncertain. “What?”

  I shake my head, moving to her, my hands going to the hem of her T-shirt and lifting. She raises her arms without question, letting me strip her shirt off, and I take her in with her lacy pink bra and dark wash skinny jeans, her pointed nipples reaching out for me.

  While I stare, she reaches for my shirt, lifting it. I have to bend over to let her take it off me, but I don’t mind. I’ll become a human pretzel if that’s what it takes to let her have her way with me at this point. This is it. This is real. She’s giving me a chance to be with her for real, and I’m not going to fuck it up this time.

  When I straighten, my eyes clash with h
ers, and the uncertainty lingering there. “Hey.” I pull her into my arms, running a hand up her back. “I love you. Nothing else matters right now.”

  She snuggles against my chest. “What were you thinking? When you closed the door. You were thinking something.”

  Huffing a laugh, I shake my head. “Just thinking how crazy it is that you’re here with me.” I pitch my voice to sound like an announcer. “Charlotte James, international superstar.”

  She chuckles at that and shakes her head, looking up at me. “Not with you. With you I’m always just Charlie Baxter.” She waves a hand at the door. “Charlotte James only exists out there for the public. With you I’m just me.”

  I take her mouth in a kiss, my fingers reaching for the clasp of her bra and making quick work of it. Meanwhile, she undoes my belt and jeans, reaching inside to palm me over the fabric of my boxer briefs.

  I groan into her mouth, and she breaks the kiss to give me a satisfied smile. Which is washed away when I shove my hand inside her jeans, wiggling my fingers to get enough room, grateful for the stretch denim so I can maneuver my hand between her legs and plunge two fingers inside her. She gasps in response.

  “God, I hate clothes right now,” she pants.

  With a chuckle, I withdraw my hand, undo the front of her jeans, and give them a yank. She falls back on my bed, shoving her pants the rest of the way off and reaching for me as soon as she’s done. “Why do you still have clothes on? Off. All of it off.” She grips the fabric in her hands and gives a sharp tug. The elastic band of my underwear catches on my dick, pulling it down and releasing it with a thwack against my lower abdomen.

  She lets go of my clothes, covering her mouth with one hand while she giggles. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. Did that hurt?”

  It didn’t. Not really. But I narrow my eyes anyway as I bend over to finish removing my clothes. “I think you might need to kiss it and make it all better.”

  Her giggling stops, and she drops her hand revealing her lingering smile. “Is that so? Well, then come here, and let me kiss it better.”

  She reaches for me, and I step into her waiting hand, letting out a hiss as she grips me hard and pumps a few times, with the pressure she knows I like. Bending her head, she places a tiny kiss right at the tip and looks up at me through her eyelashes. “Better?”

  “Mmm.” My voice is a low rumble. “Not quite. Try again.”

  Another quick grin flashes across her face before she places another soft kiss a few millimeters away from the first. Without any further encouragement, she covers the entire tip in tiny kisses. Then her tongue flicks out, and she tastes me, eliciting a groan from me. And when she wraps her lips around me, my knees hit the bed, only sheer force of will keeping me upright.

  She bobs her head a few times, her tongue working me all the while, and then pulls back, leaving the head of my cock shiny with her saliva. “How’s that? Better?”

  “Getting there.” Before I finish croaking the words out, she takes me in her mouth again, this time her other hand coming up to fondle my balls, one finger reaching back to stroke the skin just behind them.

  “Christ, Charlie.” One of my hands goes to her head, combing the hair away from her face with my fingers, not to control or even guide her. She knows what she’s doing without any direction from me. I just want to touch her.

  I let her keep going until I can’t take it anymore, until I’m about to blow in her mouth. Then I gently tighten my grip in her hair, just a little tug, and she stops, a string of saliva stretching between her mouth and my aching dick that protests the loss of her warmth. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand as she looks up at me, and I bend, kissing her hard.

  She lifts up on her knees on the bed, her arms wrapping around me, and then we’re moving, she’s pulling me down with her so we’re stretched out on the bed. Much as I want nothing more than to bury myself inside her and chase the ecstatic oblivion of release, I know I’m too close to the edge after her amazing oral skills.

  Instead, I do what I know she loves, what I know gets her as worked up as I am right now. With my mouth still fused to hers, I skate a hand down her body, taking a second to rub her nipples, then down between her legs. She drops them to the side, completely unembarrassed, allowing me full access, and I gather her wetness and rub it all around, circling the outside of her clit.

  She rips her mouth away from mine, her chest heaving. “God, Damian. Just touch me. Please. I’m already all worked up from blowing you. I can’t take it if you tease me.”

  With a dark chuckle, I lower my head to tongue one of her nipples, but I don’t keep her waiting much longer, turning my gentle circles around the outside of her clit to a more direct touch. Still light, not enough to push her over, not yet. I want to take my time. And I want to taste every inch of her in the process.

  Her skin feels like silk under my lips, and she tastes like heaven as I suck her nipples into my mouth one at a time, making her arch and writhe, then drag my tongue down her torso to place a kiss on her bare mound.

  Settling between her legs, I sink two fingers inside her, making her gasp and moan. Even though I teased her with my fingers, I don’t keep it going, instead lapping at her like she’s my favorite treat. And right now, she is. In almost no time after I focus on her clit, she’s going off like fireworks, her internal muscles spasming around my fingers, her legs clamping down on my head.

  Once I’ve brought her down the other side, I sit up and wipe my face with my hand before reaching for my bedside table to get a condom. As I roll it on, I feast my eyes on her curvy body laid out like a feast all for me.

  “You look pretty pleased with yourself.”

  Her voice brings my eyes to hers, and my smile grows wider. Settling over her, I line myself up and slowly push inside. Once our hips meet, I hold still, dropping a kiss on her mouth. “How could I not be pleased with myself with the way you just came all over my face?”

  Whatever she might’ve said in return is lost as I start moving, starting off slow and easy, wanting this to last. She lifts her hips to meet mine with each stroke, squeezing me, each thrust taking me perilously close to snapping my control.

  “Jesus, Charlie. You feel so good. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed getting to tell you that I love you.”

  “Then tell me.”

  Her head arches back as I hit her just right, but she brings her eyes back to mine. “I love you.”

  Another thrust, another head arch.

  “I love you too, Charlie.”

  And then we’re kissing, and her arms are wrapped around me, and the tenuous hold on my control is gone. I’m lost in her, swept away in her love and her body. And I never want to be found.

  Coda

  Coda: literally tail; a passage that brings a piece or movement of music to an end

  Lauren

  I walk in from the kitchen carrying a pitcher of margaritas and three glasses in time to hear Gabby ask Charlie, “So things are going good with you and Damian? Even though you’re doing the long-distance thing?”

  Charlie sees me and stands, taking the glasses from my hand as she answers. “Yeah. I mean, it would be great if we could do what you and Jonathan are doing, but he still has another year left of school. I’m moving back to Spokane, though, so when I’m not in the studio or when I’m on breaks from touring, I’ll be here.”

  Gabby’s forehead wrinkles. “I thought you were keeping your place in LA.”

  “Yeah. For now, at least, since I’m still finishing up my album. It makes sense to hang onto it. But we found a great condo here with good security. Damian’s going to move in at the end of the semester, once his lease is up. And he can travel with me during the summer.”

  Gabby opens her mouth, and from the look on her face, I know she’s going to criticize something, but she catches my look and falls silent.

  “I think it sounds great,” I say. “Not everyone can join their hot rockstar boyfriend�
��—I nod toward Charlie—“or girlfriend on tour and help them write songs and be amazing.”

  Charlie gets a dreamy look on her face. “Damian makes me amazing without doing any of that.”

  I grit my teeth and give her a smile, tamping down the jealousy that rears up that both my closest friends have perfect relationships, and I have …

  Well, I have memories of a road trip and sporadic visits and phone calls from the guy I’m hung up on. Oh, and let’s not forget Facebook stalking, where I console myself that his relationship status still shows as single even when I see him posting pictures of himself with other girls.

  For someone who accused me of being a man-eater, it’s funny that he seems to be such a manwhore.

  But why am I surprised?

  He’s hot, he’s got that whole “I used to be a popstar” thing going for him since he was the drummer for Brash, and now that Jonathan is famous again and they occasionally join him for Brash reunion sets, Brendan and Colt get more media attention than they used to.

  Colt eats it up, of course, but that, again, is no surprise.

  Brendan, though … he seems like he’d prefer to be away from the public eye, content to be on the production side rather than the performance side now.

  That surprised me. Everything about Brendan surprised me, if I’m being honest.

  But really, I need to get over it. I need to get over him. We had a road trip, a fantasy, a fairy tale. But it had to end. And like all fairy tales, the happily ever after is just a myth.

  I haven’t heard from him in over a month now. Not since he showed up out of the blue apologizing for missing my recital. I need to focus on finals, what I’m going to do this summer, applying for grad schools, and preparing my senior recital.

  I don’t have time for boys, much less ones who run so hot and cold that I get the worst of both worlds—burned and frozen at the same time.