The Key to Love

by Callie Bardot

In his other hand, he clutched a water bottle. Before he could squeeze the bottle to death, he lifted it to his lips, glugged the remains, and overhand tossed the plastic into the garbage bin across the room.

  This whole thing about finally leaving the band and forging his own way had him in a twist. They’re going to hate me. They’ve been my family for years. A small knot of an ache clenched inside his chest. But it couldn’t staunch the cauldron of longing in his heart to break free and produce the kind of music he wanted to make.

  Striding past the mixer board, he beelined toward the chair where he’d left all his music notes and the score he’d been working on. He’d foregone the music program on his laptop, which the band always used to write songs in favor of old school paper and pen. He picked up the top sheet, reading his scrawls, and scribbled musical notes. Will she like it? He wanted to impress the panties off of Mia with his new tunes and get the hell away from Marked Love.

  He glanced at the clock on the wall. Six forty-five. She said she was leaving at six. It shouldn’t take that long to get here from EXcape.

  At six-fifty, the door buzzer rang. Keys rushed over and answered it. “Is that you?”

  Mia answered with a “depending on which ‘you’ you’re hoping for, yes, it’s me.”

  A sigh of relief escaped from his lungs. “Come on up.” After pressing the door release, he scurried toward the front door, holding it open to watch for her.

  A few minutes later, the stairwell door opened, and Mia emerged, bundled in her winter coat. The fur-trimmed hood framed her face, making her look like a winter pixie. She brightened when she saw him.

  “Hey,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him chastely on the cheek.

  “Hey,” he said, returning the friendly kiss, congratulating himself on his restraint. There will be time to get dirty with her. For now, I want to get her feedback on my songs. He held aside the door for her and swept his gaze along her backside, imagining her wearing nothing beneath her coat except her lingerie and high heels. No one said I couldn’t fantasize, right? A smile played at the corners of his lips.

  “There’s that look again,” she said, pivoting to face him.

  “Mm-hmm. There it is. Can I get you anything?” he said, still grinning. “Can I take your coat?”

  “Sure, the coat would be good, and water would be nice,” she said, shrugging from her woolen coat. “Here,” she said. “Thank you,” she added, once he took the coat. She shook out her waterfall of hair.

  Itching to run his fingers through her locks, he inhaled sharply, then turned to hang her coat in the small closet near the door. Stay focused. This moment’s about music. Heading toward the tiny fridge, he pulled out another bottle of water for him and one for her. Before handing it to her, he twisted off the top and attempted another overhead toss into the waste bin. It made a perfect landing.

  “Here you go,” he said.

  “You’re good with those high, arcing shots,” she said, smiling. “You ever play basketball?”

  “Some,” he said, unscrewing the lid on his bottle. Another above overhand left his hand, and the lid made a small tick as it landed squarely in the metal bin. “I was the shooting guard on the team.”

  “Is that the main shooter guy?” she said.

  “Yep.”

  “Were you any good?” she said, lifting her water to her lips.

  His eyelids lowered as she tipped back her head, revealing her perfect neck. Nice. He imagined her head tipped back just like that, in the throes of orgasm around his hard cock. Even nicer.

  “Keys,” Mia said.

  “What?” he said, blinking back to the moment.

  “I asked if you were any good at scoring in basketball.”

  “Yep, pretty good,” he said, still picturing Mia coming around his dick.

  “You ever want to go pro?” she said.

  Focus, idiot. He shook his fantasies free from his mind. “Not in a million years. B-ball was just something to do while I waited to get out of high school. It was more interesting than calculus or science.” He strode toward the chair, where his musical scores rested. “Let’s start with this one,” he said, waving the paper in the air. “Come into the live room where I have everything set up.”

  Mia followed him into the live room. Same as when he showed her his Muse Groove room, her eyes were wide with…What? Wonder? Longing?

  He couldn’t quite get the expression she bore, but he knew something was cooking in her bright mind. After settling on the padded leather seat in front of the keyboard, he placed the music on the stand. “Ready?”

  She nodded, perching on a stool next to the keyboard.

  His fingers flew over the keys, bringing the song to life. As he played, singing along with the tune, he poured his heart into each note. When finished, he looked at her expectantly. “Well?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, tapping her cheek with her fingertip. “Something’s missing.”

  “What do you mean something’s missing?” he said, his hackles prickling. “I’ve worked and re-worked this song to perfection.”

  “No, you’ve worked it to near perfection. It’s good, but it’s not great,” she said, reaching for the sheet music.

  His stomach clenched into a sour knot. I don’t need any more criticism. The band is doing great at shooting me down. Swiftly, he snagged the score out of reach.

  She wiggled her fingers in a come hither gesture. “Give it over. I’m not going to change your work. I just want to read it.”

  He hesitated, still holding his hard work out of reach.

  “Come on, Keys. If I’m to be your manager, you have to trust me. All I want to do is look at it. I can even read it over your shoulder if that makes you feel better,” she said.

  He squinted at her, then reluctantly handed the sheet music to her. “Go ahead,” he said, tensing for a verbal flogging.

  Narrowing her eyes, she studied the paper for a few uncomfortable minutes. Finally, she said, “Stepwise, there are too many skips and leaps right here. It muddies the song.”

  “Hmmm,” he said, considering her feedback. “Go on.”

  “The chord progressions work until you get to this part.” She spread the paper across the top of the keyboard and tapped a section. “Let’s modulate to a B minor after the second chorus. It needs to get moodier in that section. It should feel larger than life. Your lyrics are solid, and they match the tone. I think with a few corrections, you’ll have a winner.” Tipping her head up to look at him, she flashed her beautiful smile.

  “Let me see,” he said, his mind whirring. He scribbled a few corrections and said, “Listen to this.” Again, he played and sang along. Once finished, he said, “How’d we do?”

  “Perfect!” she said, clapping her hands in front of her face. “It’s perfect!”

  “Sing it with me in a duet,” he said, excitement bubbling through his bloodstream.

  She shook her head.

  “Come on, Mia. In a few minutes, you’ve managed to help me create a Top of the Billboards hit. I’m certain of it. Show me how it will sound if we sing a duet.”

  “I don’t know, Keys. My vocal cords are rusty.”

  “I’m sure you sing in the shower. Just give it a whirl,” he urged.

  “Okay, but don’t laugh at me if I screw it up,” she said.

  “I promise.” His fingers poised over the keyboard. The light bounced off of his rings, making them shimmer and sparkle. “Ready?”

  “I guess,” she said through a sigh.

  He played the opening chords, then nodded at her. “This is the point of summer,” he sang.

  Mia quickly picked up the tune, joining him with, “When everything comes to an end…”

  “This is the point of summer,” they sang together. “When we should sign off as friends...”

  Keys loved her voice. A rich mezzo-soprano, her lilting voice added depth to the song, making his heart soar.

  The volume of her voice grew, filling the air with
sweet harmonies. When they ended with, “How can we hold to endings; when this has only just begun? How can I say, it’s over; when I think I’ve found the one?” her voice hung in the air as if suspended.

  A poignant stillness hung between them as cracks and fissures formed in Keys’ walled off chest. His breathing became ragged as he realized the implications of what they’d just sung. You’re falling hard for her, aren’t you?

  Only when the sound had completely faded, did Keys speak, keeping the emphasis on her singing, not his once torn to shreds heart.

  “My God, woman, your voice is fantastic. I think we have the opening track for our album.” He turned and grinned at her.

  Her cheeks burned with color, and she dropped her gaze to her lap. “You’re just saying that.”

  “No, Mia. I told you before, I don’t bullshit. I’m not about saying shit to make everyone all warm and fuzzy. What you just did…” He splayed his fingers before him. “Wow, girl. Just wow.”

  She rolled her lips between her teeth, trying to hold back a smile.

  “Let’s record this. We can mess with it later.” He rose and quickly crossed to the control room, where he fiddled with the keys on the mixing board. Then, he grabbed a closed jack headset and placed one of the headphones against his ear. “Grab that mic and sing me a C.”

  Mia’s head turned back and forth until she saw the microphone. She rose, crossed the room to retrieve it, held it loosely in her hand, and sang the note.

  A bubble of excitement welled in his chest. “That was perfect—perfect pitch. Now, sing a few more notes.”

  She obliged him with a scale.

  “Bueno, angel. Let’s set this baby on record and do it.” He tapped a few more buttons and then hurried into the live room. “Let’s set the mic in its stand and sing together, yeah?”

  “Okay,” she said, appearing to quiver with excitement.

  After they’d finished the song, he scurried back to the control room to stop the recording. He hit the playback and listened to a few notes. “We got it,” he announced, striding to the doorway. “Why on earth did you give up music?” he said, heading in her direction. “You could be bigger than Marked Love.”

  “No one can be bigger than Marked Love,” she said with a sniff.

  “You,” he said, tapping the end of her nose. “You could have surpassed us by now. Why’d you quit?”

  “I had to…things got…” Her gaze drifted toward the ceiling, and for a few seconds, it seemed as if she’d left the building.

  “Where’d you go?” Keys said, softly.

  She blinked her way back into the room. “I’m sorry. Lost in thought. Things got complicated. Now I can never go back.”

  “You can’t say that. You deny the world of your incredible voice if you don’t get back into music. I’m putting this song on my new album, and you’re going to sing it with me.” He picked up the sheet music and shook it, making it rattle in his hand.

  “Keys,” she said, shaking her head again.

  “No argument. We’re doing this,” he said.

  Her lips pursed, but she didn’t protest.

  “You want to know what that song did to me?” he said. He extended his hands to her.

  “What?” she said, reaching for him.

  He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, rocking his rigid heat into her. “You got me so turned on, woman, with your voice. I can picture an audience all coming in unison when you sing.”

  She chuckled into his shoulder. “You’re funny.”

  He eased back to look at her. “I’m not kidding. Dante stands there at the front of the stage, making his nasty gestures and suggestive comments, and the women go wild. I’m sure some of them orgasm in the crowd. You and I can cover both bases. We’ll have the guys creaming their jeans over your voice, while the girls cry, ‘oh, Keys, do that thing you’re doing with your fingers on the keyboard. Right there, oh yes!’” he said in a high pitched voice.

  Mia’s chuckles turned into a laugh. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

  “Crazy about working with you,” he murmured in a low, husky voice. His fingers found her chin and tipped her face up to greet his lips. Same as in the club the other night, their lip on lip action turned into an exploration—a study in sensual seduction. The kiss deepened into the sensation of devouring and being devoured, consumed by desire. Keys couldn’t get enough of her lips…the taste of her…the feel of her soft, supple mouth against his.

  She put her hand around his lower back and tugged him closer. Disengaging from the kiss, she said, “I want you inside of me. There are too many clothes between us.”

  “At your service, angel,” he said.

  With furtive hands, they tore the clothes from one another’s bodies, dropping them in a pile on the floor. Once naked, Keys sheathed his cock, cupped her sweet backside and urged her onto his hips. Supporting her with one hand, he guided his stiff cock into her slick pussy. “Jesus,” he groaned when he slid home.

  “Fuck me hard, Keys,” she said, gripping him around his neck. She hooked her ankles around his hips.

  Standing in the middle of the room holding Mia, he scanned for a suitable place to do her right. “I’d take you on the mixer board, but my buddy, Syd, would have a coronary. There’s a couch in the lobby. Let’s go there.” As he stepped from the live room, he kept on kissing her, only glancing up when necessary to navigate his way. Once he stood in the lobby, he lowered her to the sofa. Then, he proceeded to fuck her good and hard, with an all-consuming urgency.

  “Wait, Keys. We’re not hitting it. Get me from behind,” she said.

  “Sure,” he said, loving her assertiveness. He’d fucked too many limp rag women to count in the last year—women who just lay there and expected him to do all the work. He slid from her, groaning as she released him.

  With quick haste, she wiggled around, so her fine ass faced him, and her knees were on the sofa. She propped herself up on the back of the sofa with her hands and thrust her rump at him. “Come on, Keys. Get back inside of me!”

  He crouched slightly, took his dick in his hands, and found her opening. Once more, he slid deep with a long moan. “Better?”

  “Yes,” she said, working her fingers on her clit. “Oh, right there, Keys. Keep fucking me.”

  He gripped her hips and kept pumping, working to keep his own climax at bay. Then, he reached around her with one hand and toyed with one hard nipple, squeezing and pinching.

  “Oh, God, Keys, that feels good,” she cried, her hair spilling over her shoulder.

  “Come for me, Mia. Come hard, baby.” He lowered his hand from her breast and placed his fingers between her legs over hers. Memorizing her movements to give her more mind-blowing orgasms in the days to come, his dick grew as hard as it had ever been. You’d better come quick, Mia. I don’t think I can hold it anymore.

  “There it is. Right there. Oh, God, Keys!” Her words trailed off into an unintelligible moan.

  Unable to stop himself, he let loose into her, growling her name. “Mia!” The words gave way to grunts and groans as he pounded into her from behind.

  When she came down, she rested her head on top of her hands on the back of the sofa. “Oh, my,” she breathed. “That was something.”

  He guided her to her side on the sofa, doing his best to stay inside of her. Curled up behind her, he stroked her messy hair away from her face. “We’re going to do amazing things, Mia. I can feel it in my bones.”

  Her body stiffened.

  “Easy, baby. I’m only stating the obvious.” He kept up the stroking, fingering her glossy strands.

  Her body remained tense.

  Trying to get her to relax again, he kissed the curve between her neck and her shoulder and gently bit her neck. “You’re so beautiful, Mia,” he whispered.

  “And, I’ve stayed way longer than I intended,” she said, inching away from him.

  His cock slid free.

  She maneuvered herself away from the so
fa, away from him, and marched into the live room to retrieve her clothes.

  Keys rolled on his back and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. What is it with her? She’s hot as fuck, then, cold as ice. What, or who made her this way? He draped his arm over his eyes, savoring the lingering orgasm yet already missing her warmth.

  Several minutes later, without saying a word to him, she tromped to where he lay and kissed his cheek.

  He didn’t remove his arm from his eyes, not wanting her to see his disappointment.

  The door opened and then snicked shut.

  Keys continued to lay there, his arm shielding him from the light. He knew he’d crossed a line—a line that went straight to his heart. His heart was in a total chokehold. He loved Mia Song. He’d loved her from the first second he’d laid eyes on her at Crow & Thicket when he and the band had met up with Zander and his crew. And all the drinking and drugging and endless babes had done nothing to make it go away. But, if he told her, that would be the end of it. For now, maybe forever, it would be his secret to hold.

  Mia

  Mia’s actions this week had become wrestling matches between her staunch loyalty and her soaring desires. Standing at her adjustable desk, she looked up from her computer search of “indie rock, hard rock, and pop-rock musical gigs,” glancing around nervously for signs of Zander. The Rock-It event, finally including the Hot Clutch energy drink sponsorship, still took a great deal of her time at work. But the thrill of working as Keys’ manager kept her sneaking around like a cat burglar at work.

  Her relationship with Keys continued its extremely complicated trajectory. They’d texted every day and talked on the phone at night, but she didn’t have the nerve to see him in person. When around him, all she could think about was jumping his bones. Yet, sliding into his musical world stirred up all sorts of repressed trauma. She still cringed, remembering how she’d bolted from the music studio the other night, like a crazy schizophrenic. Oh, having sex with you is great, Keys. Oh, no, I’ve got to leave right now, no explanation, I’ve just got to go.

  At night, more often than not, some old memory would pop free from her unconsciousness, reminding her of Darion and the price she’d paid by being with him. Like last night, after talking to Keys on the phone about some ideas she had about one of his other songs, she’d drifted to sleep on a wave of excitement. Four hours later, she’d awakened in the middle of the night in a cold sweat with nightmares of Darion coming after her wielding knives.