A Valentine Duet

by Summer Graystone

  “Maybe, maybe not. At least I know where I stand now.” He smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “At least I got to kiss the prom queen.”

  Elena smiled at the joke, even though her heart was splintering into pieces within her chest. He cleared his throat and then sat on the chair opposite her. “Look, you’ve got just about week left to spend with me on this tour. And I have to confess that I really enjoy being friends with you, so how about we try to be nice to each other until then? And after, I leave you to keep on searching for your Prince Charming.”

  Elena heard what he was saying, realizing that this was what she wanted, yet as she smiled and stretched out her hand to take his, she hated the fact that she was getting it.

  He got up and looked down at his shirt, checking to see if it was presentable. “This still looks good to go out in, right?”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  “Good,” he said, picking his jacket from the back of the chair. “I need to blow off some steam.” He smiled at her as he walked towards the door, waving at her as he alighted from it.

  Elena watched him go and she knew he was going to a bar or club, anywhere he could find a woman who would give him what she had just denied him. And she was not blaming him for that, or jealous or angry. Not at all. She was not jealous of whoever that woman was going to be, Elena told herself, her fists clenched so tight that her fingers dug into her palm, hard enough to leave bruises.

  Tom ordered a glass of Scotch and drank it all in one gulp as soon as it was placed in front of him. Then ordered another.

  “Bad day?” he heard someone say beside him and looked to his side to see an attractive blonde as she stirred whatever was in her glass with her straw. The light in the club was dim, so he doubted she knew who he was. He shrugged his shoulders and then nodded at the bartender as his drink was placed in front of him. He took a sip of his drink, and then stared at the golden liquid in his glass.

  “I can help you forget it better than that would,” the blonde said, nodding at the glass in his hand. He lifted his head, giving her a small smile, which she returned. Then he turned back to his drink. Seeing that she was not making any headway with him, the blonde stood up from the chair and went seeking a more cooperative prey. Tom drank one more glass of Scotch, then dropped some money on the bar to cover for the drinks and tip. Then he made his way out of the club, weaving his body between the gyrating men and women on the dance floor and the tables of lonely and willing women. He made his way back to a quiet bus where the only woman who had been on his mind all night slept quietly, a few feet away from him, and yet so far he couldn’t reach her if he tried.

  Chapter 10

  Elena moaned low as her taste buds burst with sensations. Tom smiled at her, “I told you it would be really good.”

  Elena lifted her head from the table and looked at him. “Yeah, you did say that, but I thought you were exaggerating.”

  “Well, I was not. Now eat up before I finish mine and come after yours,” he said, waving a hand at her.

  “Try it if you have figured out how to play that guitar of yours with only one hand,” Elena replied, as she took a bite of the best pizza in Las Vegas. It was their third day in the city and today, they had nothing lined up on their schedule. They had already had two shows and Elena had done a meet and greet with her fans the day before. Sometimes, she was still astounded to learn of exactly how far and wide her fan base extended. But today, they had nothing lined up and Elena was a little bit surprised to see Tom stay in the bus with her. So they played card games, talked and just hung out. Then she told him she was hungry and he had told her to hold on as he placed a pizza order, telling her it was the best pizza he had ever eaten. And she found out he was right.

  “You like to eat,” he commented, watching her.

  “What do you mean?” Elena paused with the pizza halfway into her mouth, wondering if he thought she was fat.

  “Sorry, that came out wrong. I meant you enjoy eating, like the way you chew the food before swallowing. How you close your eyes and savor every bite, it’s really interesting to watch actually.”

  Elena smiled at that. “Yeah, I guess I have always been sort of a foodie. Got that from my father actually; Mom couldn’t cook worth a damn. Like me I suppose. But Dad could make a meal out of just eggs that would have you selling your grandbabies. I tried to convince him to open a restaurant, you know, after I was rich enough to buy one for him. But he said he was not interested in cooking for a bunch of people he knew nothing about.”

  Tom looked at her across the table. “You miss him, don’t you?”

  “Yes, yes I do. And my mom too. She is always nagging me about grandbabies and which guy is in my life. Which is kind of annoying, but yes, I miss them both.” She looked up at him, knowing better than to ask about his parents. She knew he grew up in foster care, his parents having died when a drunk driver ran a red light and slammed into their car. So instead, she pointed at the guitar case he kept tucked away at the side of the couch. “How did you learn how to play that?”

  “Oh, my guitar? Well, that particular honor would have to go to Jenny O’Neill in my high school.”

  “Jenny O’Neill?”

  “Yeah, Jenny played the trumpet in the school band and at the time I thought she was the best musician that ever lived. Truth was, Jenny had the best set of…” he looked up at her and then clamped his mouth shut, humor in his eyes. “Anyways,” he continued after Elena rolled her eyes at him. “I thought she would be more inclined to see things my way romantically if I joined a band. She didn’t and I learned how powerful music could be in soothing a broken heart.”

  “Well, you don’t seem too brokenhearted about it from where I’m standing.”

  “Trust me I was, so broken hearted even that Kellie Stone took pity on me and allowed me to get to second base with her.”

  “Very funny,” Elena chuckled, hitting him playfully on the hand he kept on the table. “My high school was not as fun as that. Had the single boyfriend throughout. We broke up when I told him I was coming here to pursue my career in music.”

  “Fool,” Tom declared and had her cracking up with humor again. “So how do we compare to our tea guzzling neighbor?” he asked, taking the last bite of his pizza.

  “I don’t know, I guess the experience is a lot more fast-paced here. You guys love to rush to do everything.”

  “Hey, we can’t all stop what we do to have a cup of tea at noon now, can we?”

  “That’s funny, because I don’t like tea. Not all of us do, actually. I guess I can’t really say, got famous way too fast to enjoy some of what you have to offer here. And now, it’s hard to go out and have fun.”

  He looked at her, smiling and Elena could see the gears turning in his head. Then he grabbed his phone and jacket and dragged her up. “Come with me,” he said, waiting long enough for her to grab her phone.

  “Where are we going?” she asked him, too excited to actually care.

  “Come on, it’s a surprise.” He called someone on the phone and waited for the call to be picked up.

  “I don’t like surprises.”

  “Trust me, you will like this one.” His phone chimed and he placed it to his ear. “Hector, it’s me, Tom. I need you to do me a favor.” He listened for a few seconds, then spoke again. “I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, okay.”

  Elena dug her heel on the last step of the bus and refused to come down. “Tell me where we are going or I am not getting off this bus.”

  He looked up at her, and stretched out his hands. “Come on, Elena. Do you trust me?” he asked her, beckoning her forward with a tug of her hand, his eyes smiling up at her and promising her an adventure.

  “Yes,” she answered him finally, as she placed her hands in his. “Yes, I do.”

  Chapter 11

  It was almost pitch black when Elena forced the big white teddy bear in her hand through the door. Her face was smudged with makeup, and the Marilyn Monroe wig on her head was
askew. Behind her, Tom was almost unrecognizable with a black bushy mustache and prominent sideburns.

  Turns out Hector was a makeup artist who turned to Moesha at night. One hour after she met him and two of his friends, also drag queens, Elena could barely recognize herself. After she hugged Hector goodbye, Tom had taken her to a street carnival in town. It was the best six hours of her life. Going from booth to booth with Tom. Playing games and having fun without having to worry about if anyone recognized her. Or worse, trying to watch her every step so she did not have what Samantha liked to call a PR nightmare. Tom had won a teddy for her at a dart game, bowing low as he presented the giant toy to her, to the admiration of the crowd who cheered him on. By the time they finally caught a cab back to the lot where the bus was parked, Elena knew there was no way she could pay him back for giving her the gift of anonymity. Even if it was just for a few hours.

  “How did you know there was a street carnival today?” she asked, as she dropped the bear to one side of the room and fell back on the couch.

  “I didn’t.” He smiled at her as he shrugged his shoulders. “But this is Las Vegas baby, anything is possible here.”

  “Thanks for giving me a wonderful experience,” she said, looking at him and hoping he could see in her eyes how much she meant that.

  “Pleasure was all mine, Elena.”

  For a moment they both looked at each other, the silence not really awkward. Just rife with a million unspoken words.

  “I never got a teddy bear before,” Elena finally broke the silence, as she tore her gaze away from him to look at the cute monstrosity just a few feet away.

  “I never won one for anyone before either,” Tom chuckled. “Hell, I used to think it was impossible to win one of those.”

  “Guess I was your good luck charm, then.”

  “Yeah, I guess you were.” He reached for the mustache and tore it off, along with the sideburns, grimacing slightly as he did.

  Elena glanced at the closed windows to see her reflection and smiled at it. “I guess I should go wash this off now.”

  “I don’t know, I think you look really pretty with that wig on.” He waggled his eyebrows and Elena laughed out loud.

  “I do not; the wig doesn’t really fit the shape of my face. Besides, I think I look better as myself than a cheap knock off Marilyn Monroe.”

  “Cheap knock off? You better not let Hector hear you say that. I pointed out that his Cher wig was just a little too much one day and he refused to talk to me for three weeks. I had to buy him and his posse front row tickets to see Beyoncé play for him to forgive me.” Elena laughed so hard at that, she had to rest her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. Tom chuckled, then watched her. “But you are right, though,” he continued after her laughter had died down to a smile. “You look better as you than anyone else.”

  Elena went still, his tone affecting her more than his words did. His eyes stayed on hers for a second more, then he averted his gaze and looked straight ahead. It was clear he was doing what she wanted, giving her the space she claimed to need. Ever since the incident on this very couch, he had been nothing but a good friend to her. Talking with her, playing with her. They even wrote two songs together, and sometimes Elena was amazed by how easily the words came when she wrote with him. Their stage performance had been electric, evidenced by his soaring album sales and the frantic increase in the pre-order sales of her album that was going to be dropping in just three days. He even let her have more time on the stage with him and in their last show, he had played the guitar to accompany her on three of her solo hits. The crowd had gone wild with shouts of more renting the air. A testament to Aaron’s prediction, their fan bases both benefiting from their collaboration.

  It also meant that rumors of a relationship between them were gaining even more and more steam in the tabloids and Addy made sure to work it as hard as she could. Yet, even as Elena found more and more ways to avoid giving a direct answer to the question of the status of her relationship, she didn’t need to worry about having that dilemma. She knew she was nothing more than a friend to Tom. She would hear him return back to the bus from his nightly jaunts and have to bite her pillow to keep the tears at bay. The smell of alcohol and perfume on his clothes the next day, the most torturous of smells. And that one time she saw an unopened pack of condoms in his pocket, it was the most painful experience of her life. As she had to smile at him later that night as he made his way out, telling him in a cheery voice to stay out of jail or she wouldn’t come bail him out. Then as soon as he was gone, she had grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and gotten drunk.

  But in all this, Elena reminded herself that it was for the best. Telling herself all the reasons why a lonely heart was better than a broken one. But looking at him now sitting across from her, she wondered why all those reasons suddenly didn’t seem enough. She was taking a flight back to New York tomorrow morning to finalize the preparations for her album. But tonight, for just one night, Elena wanted him to fill the loneliness with his touch, fill the ache with pleasure.

  “Tom,” she called out to him, turning to him and pushing back all the warning bells in her head.

  “What is it?” he asked her, slowly meeting her gaze.

  “I want you to kiss me,” she declared bluntly, and when he sat still in shock and caution, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She leaned in and covered his lips with hers, her tongue licking the seam of them as an electric current of pleasure rushed through her. He gave her about a second, and then Tom’s hands were on her shoulders as he pushed her to the couch and took control of the kiss.

  Parting her lips, Elena’s tongue peeked out as his licked over the lower curve of her lips. Her hands, first pressed against his shirt and then moved to the buttons holding the material together. Clumsy, fumbling, Elena struggled with the too tiny discs until, finally, the last one came free, revealing the hard contours of his chest and the light mat of dark blond curls that tempted her fingers.

  Pushing back, she stared up at him, and Tom had no idea what was causing his chest to tighten. His body hardened with such feeling that making sense of it was impossible.

  “Tom,” she whispered, her hands tightening on the material of his shirt, trying to still the trembling he’d glimpsed.

  There was a need in her eyes, a hunger he couldn’t decipher.

  Her lips trembled before she stilled them, but she couldn’t erase the unconscious plea in her gaze, which she had no idea she was showing him.

  “Whatever you want, Elena,” he said, his lips brushing against hers. He watched her pupils flare, watching the lust, seeing some deeper, darker emotion he couldn’t allow himself to acknowledge in the dark sea-green of her eyes.

  Clenching his fingers in the curve of her ass, feeling the muscles clench beneath his hold, had him fighting the need to take her as fast, as hard as possible.

  But it wouldn’t be enough, Tom knew. It wouldn’t be enough for him, because he could sense what she was silently aching for, feel it in the tightening of his chest, though he was unaware of exactly what it was.

  “Elena,” he said. “You drive me crazy in so many ways I am afraid to even begin to name them.”

  She licked her lips, the sight of her little pink tongue tasting them tightening his balls. Her breathing accelerated, her breasts rising and falling beneath the light, silky material of her white sleeveless blouse. Her gaze turned somber then, a flash of uncertainty sparking deep in the pretty green orbs.

  Tom lowered his lips to her ear again, caressing the curve of the delicate shell as he spoke.

  “Are you sure you want this? Last chance to pull away now and stop this.” He stared down at her and Elena knew it was no empty threat. But rather than scare it got her excited and frantic. She arched against him, her head tilting to the side to give him greater access to the flesh beneath her ear as he continued kissing the soft curve.

  “Please, Tom.” She shook her head, and he could see the uncertain
ty, the hesitancy raging inside her.

  “Do you trust me, Elena?” he asked, kissing the corner of her lips. “Do you trust me enough to let go?”

  Her lips trembled, and she nodded her head. There were no tears in her eyes, and the need was only growing, burning hotter inside her.

  “Tom.” The uncertainty filled her voice.

  Lifting his hand, his fingers touched her cheek, his thumb brushing against her lips. “Yes, baby?”

  “I need to feel…I want you to make me feel…” She went quiet, searching for the words, then gasped when his head came down and his lips covered hers as he made her feel. Nipping at her plump, kiss-swollen lips, Tom let his kisses move along her chin, her cheek, then begin a slow, sensual glide to the uplifted peaks of her breasts. Her head tilted back against the wall, her breath rushing hard and heavy from her lips as he scraped his teeth over the sensitive column then tasted it with flicks of his tongue. Every kiss, every taste of her flesh intoxicated him further, just as it pulled her deeper within the sensual fog he could feel overtaking her.

  Then she felt his hand clutch at the hems of her clothes and jumped up to help him get them off. The wig came off along with her shirt. Her pants followed and very quickly all her clothes were on the floor and she was kneeling naked on the couch. Not satisfied with being the only one naked, she reached for his belt and together they removed all his clothes, her hands staying too long on the thick expanse of his chest as he pulled his pants down. She was curious about the organ between his legs but forced herself to look into his eyes instead as he kissed her once more.

  Then he lifted his head and looked down at her. “I think we should take this inside,” he said, and before she could wrap her head around what he was saying, she felt him slide his hands under her body.

  Tom swept her into his arms, cradled her against his chest, and moved towards her room. Laying her in the middle of the mattress, he didn’t give her time to think, or time to consider. He wasn’t about to give her a chance to protest. Not that protesting even entered her mind once he’d touched her. Elena watched him standing over her through passion-heavy lashes as her fingers curled in the sheets beneath her and she glanced at the hard, heavy length of his cock.