Inked in the Music

by Kitt Rose

  “This is cool. Let me go get my violin.”

  He nodded, distracted as he leafed through some sheet music.

  I quietly opened the bedroom door and my eyes went to the bed immediately. My heart gave a strange tug at the sight of Dennis on his back, sheet around his waist and hair spread out in a dark, thick fan. I’d never liked long hair on men before but on Dennis, it was sexy as all get out. I had to resist the urge to touch him, grabbing my violin case and backing quietly out of the room.

  I set my case down on a chair in the music room and tied my hair back. Grabbing the rosin, I prepped my bow, lifted my violin, and tucked the case under the chair. Will set a music stand in front of me and sheet music for Prokofiev Sonata for two violins.

  “Oh, I love this.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me that Larry’s prize student would know this. Figured it would be a safe bet.”

  We were quiet for a moment as we tuned and prepared, and then with a nod, he started and I followed. It was incredible. He was amazing, not that it surprised me. The man had spent his life as a professional musician. Very few could.

  When we came to the end, he stood up suddenly. “Hot damn. You are incredibly talented.”

  “Told you.” Dennis’s voice sounded from the doorway behind me and I twisted in my seat, smiling up at him. He’d pulled his jeans on, but they were unbuttoned and his chest was bare.

  Will set his instrument down and headed toward his son. “We didn’t wake you, did we?”

  Dennis and his dad embraced. “Yeah, but it’s okay. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss that.”

  Will released Dennis and headed back to his chair, picking up his violin. Dennis came over and placed a hand on my shoulder, bending down to sweep his lips over mine in a brief, sweet kiss.

  “You’ll never believe what we figured out,” I said excitedly. “Mr. Odell, my music teacher, the one I stayed with while I saved up money to move… Your parents know him and his wife from school.”

  Will winked. “Yeah. In fact, you’ve met him a time or two. He’s the one who introduced me to your mom. I’ve been hearing about your Z for years now and didn’t know it. Small world, huh?”

  Dennis shook his head in disbelief. “Beyond weird. So you guys woke me up. I demand a concert.”

  With a laugh, we decided on something else to play and Will dug out the sheet music and we began again. This time, I watched Dennis sitting on the piano bench watching me. We played one more song before hunger forced us to the kitchen. Will made us pancakes and bacon. Halfway through my stack of pancakes, Helen wandered out, hair standing out in every direction and sleep creases on her face. She dropped into the chair next to Will and he gave her a kiss on the cheek before getting up and coming back with a cup of coffee and a plate of food. Helen grunted and set to work on her coffee like she wasn’t awake.

  Dennis laughed. “Mom’s not much of a morning person.”

  She flipped him off without looking and I barked a surprised laugh.

  “She’s also a real sweetheart, as you can see,” Dennis said with affection.

  After the second cup of coffee, she came alive. Helen was hilarious with a quick wit. She and Will had a wordless communication that I could only imagine was the product of years together. When we were all done eating, Helen took me into the living room and pulled out a photo album. Dennis groaned in protest but I just beamed at him, patting the couch next to me.

  His mom did her best to embarrass him, regaling me with stories of his youthful escapades. His ears turned and stayed pink through most of it, and I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Sliding closer on the couch, he pulled me nearer and threw an arm around my waist.

  He pointed out a picture. A gangly pre-teen with a bowl cut and a Simpson shirt posed rather reluctantly next to a gray-free Will and Helen. Two older people, grandparents would be my guess, beamed next to them. “I remember that vacation. It was horrible. Remember that motel, Mom?”

  She laughed and Will wandered over to see what we were looking at. “Ah, yes. The tornado.” He sat down on Helen’s other side. “We were on our way to Yellowstone and stopped in some little town in Nebraska. We checked in to this motel and went across the street for some dinner. When we got back to the motel, we were unlocking the door and this woman runs over and tells us we have to go to the emergency shelter because there was a tornado.”

  “That part was kind of cool because there was a tornado, but it didn’t touch down. So we got to see the funnel cloud up in the sky but the storms that night were intense and we ended up sleeping in the freaking shelter.”

  “Don’t forget the bed bugs. I itched for a week, at least,” Will added with a laugh.

  A weird pang spread through me. I didn’t have stories about horrible vacations, or any vacations. I’d never been on one.

  Dennis flipped through a few pages and came across a picture of him with shoulder-length hair and small tattoos scattered over his arms. Next to him was a tiny Asian woman with shiny dark hair down to her waist. She looked like a doll. She was so perfect.

  “Is this Soo-jin?” I asked quietly.

  He nodded. “Yeah. That’s right when we first met. Mom never liked her,” he said with a smile.

  “What mother wants her son to date a stripper?” She shook her head and patted my leg. “Now this one’s pretty, sweet, and a musician.”

  Dennis laughed and leaned down to whisper into my ear. “See, told you they’d like you more than they like me.”

  There were various pictures of different girls throughout his high school years and the one thing that really stood out was they were all so perfect. None of them looked alike. But Dennis definitely had a type. They were all so put together, with perfect hair and makeup.

  I would never be that way. I didn’t want to be that way. Did he miss it, having the flawless woman on his arm?

  Helen pulled out an older album and naked baby pictures drew my attention.

  “Aw, Mom,” Dennis whined. “Really?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Song

  Zirah

  Saturday, December 25th

  Dennis’s hands moved across my skin, waking me. They slipped under my shirt and slid up to cover my breasts. I groaned, my body coming alive as the last vestiges of sleep fell away. Clever fingers plucked at my nipples, stretching and pulling in a way that sent a rush of heat through me. His mouth closed on my earlobe. I reached behind me, feeling blindly.

  “Where are your boxers?” I asked when my hands found his formidable erection.

  “Woke up and figured I’d get a Christmas present from the woman I love a little early.” His voice was rough as I stroked him. Pushing my hand aside, he lifted my leg and guided it to rest on his. I felt his penis probe low and then with one smooth movement, he buried himself in my body.

  “Have I told you lately how much I love you inside of me?” My words were a whisper as he glided in and out of me, gentle and smooth.

  “I can never hear that enough. Fuck, I love being inside of you, being with you. I love waking up in bed next to you. I just fucking love you.” His words tumbled from him, almost unconsciously, and I drank them in.

  “And you love fucking me?” I blushed from using that word.

  I didn’t like what it meant, but I knew this was more sex, so that made it okay. Dennis snorted a surprised laugh, pausing in his thrusting.

  “Faster, Dennis,” I begged and he complied, eagerly.

  I dragged one of his hands down to my clitoris and urged him to touch me. His orgasm rushed in on him, taking us both by surprise. I turned in his arms and kissed him. His tongue swept along my lips and I opened for him. There was something lazy in our lovemaking, in his touch, and I felt like a cat, wanting to stretch out in the sun and linger.

  We talked for a while, Dennis stroking my arm gently, absentmindedly, and at some point, we both dozed off. When I woke again, it was nearly eight. I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the shower. I jumped when the bathroom do
or opened. Dennis’s form was slightly distorted through the frosted glass of the walk-in shower. He was naked and I let my eyes linger.

  “Did you need something?” I asked.

  He pulled open the shower door and stepped inside with me. He seemed impossibly large and imposing in the small space. His skin glistened as water beaded and slid down his body. I wanted to touch him so badly, thankful the feeling was mutual.

  “Yeah. You,” he said.

  He pushed me against the cool tile wall of the shower and his mouth descended on mine. The heat of him against me, the sluice of the hot water over my skin, and the chill of the wall at my back turned up the volume on sensations. My skin tingled, hyper-sensitive. We’d never had sex in the shower before, and it was a shame. When I was panting and squirming against him, he dropped to his knees in front of me, raising one of my legs to rest on his shoulder.

  His mouth enveloped me, his tongue and fingers pushing into my folds. My hands went to his hair and I held tight to him as he slid two fingers inside of me, hooking them up and finding the spot that made my eyes cross.

  When I chanted his name, he stood and lifted me. I locked my legs around his waist and he slid inside me. My orgasm rolled through me until it was almost painful.

  Dennis’s muscles tightened under my fingers and his nostrils flared. I tightened those internal muscles around him and grabbed his butt, pulling him into me harder. A moan tore out of my throat as he headed my wordless plea and thrust harder and deeper.

  Leaning forward, I thrust my tongue into his mouth. He slammed in deep and let go. His hips pumped a few more times and I held him tight, still seated inside me, until his shuddering stopped. When he lowered me to my feet, my knees were shaky.

  He laughed. “That was intense.”

  I could only nod in agreement as I got my legs back under me.

  “Seems you forgot how to stand,” he said with a cocky smile. He was utterly adorable.

  “You made me a little weak in the knees for a minute. This time was just literally instead of figuratively.” I caressed his face. “Can I wash your hair?”

  He gave me a strange look but nodded. I took an inordinate amount of pleasure in washing his hair. It was surprisingly comfortable to get ready for the day, side by side. I fought against the urge to imagine this every day in my future, but dear Lord, I wanted it.

  When I slipped on my dress, something I’d bought in a thrift shop just for the occasion, he whistled low. “Damn, you’re beautiful.”

  I flushed as red as my dress.

  “I love seeing my art on you.” He brushed a long finger over my thigh, goosebumps trailing in the wake of his touch.

  We headed to the living room, carrying our respective bags of presents. Helen had made cinnamon rolls and we settled down for breakfast and presents. When she passed me a large box, surprise filled me. The tag said it was from Will and Helen. Surprise turned to disbelief when I opened the box. Inside lay a beautiful violin, case and bow and all.

  Will rushed to explain, excited. “I got this one at an auction. I think you’ll like it.”

  I could only imagine what it had cost him. “This is too much—”

  “Nonsense. I have far too many and I’ll never play it. Help a beautiful instrument fulfill its destiny.”

  Dennis snorted next to me. “Seriously, Dad? Fulfill its destiny? Wow. It’s okay to take it, Z.” He whispered the last part into my ear and I got up and hugged Will and then Helen.

  “Thank you so much. This is just … amazing.” I pulled the violin out and checked the tuning, it was close to perfect. Hesitating for just a moment, I brought the instrument up to my shoulder and played the first thing that came to mind. The sound was a hundred times better than what I was used to. It was probably my imagination, but it even felt better in my hand.

  When I finished, I rushed to apologize, realizing I’d just hijacked Christmas morning, but the look on Helen’s face stopped me cold.

  “Isn’t she wonderful, Helen? So talented,” Will said.

  I blushed and shoved a present into Dennis’s hands. His parents opened a few from each other and Dennis. And then Dennis passed me a small box.

  I opened it and gasped. A lifelike miniature violin, a musical note, a round tag with my name stamped on it, and lastly a round emerald, my birthstone, hung from the chain. “Oh, my gosh, this is beautiful. Can you put it on me?” I swept my hair out of the way so he could fasten on the delicate gold necklace.

  “You like it?” he asked.

  I nodded and clutched it to my chest, tears in my eyes. I leaned forward and stretched up, kissing him softly. “I love it. Thank you so much.” I put a hand on his cheek and gave him a watery smile. “Can you give him the square one?” I asked Helen, unable to tear my eyes off him.

  He opened it eagerly and looked up in confusion when he held up my cheap MP3 player and earbuds. I pulled out the paper pamphlet I’d stuffed inside the box and opened it up, putting it in his hands.

  “That’s not the gift. Your gift is on it though. Play it. I have earbuds in my bag.”

  Will snatched it out of his hand and headed to the wall of electronics next to their massive TV. “Unnecessary. We’ve got some great stereo equipment here.”

  Dennis unfolded the paper pamphlet and read what I’d written. I had written little, and it wasn’t flowery or poetic. I wrote that this song was inspired by the way I felt when I was with him. How his touch gave me goosebumps and his kiss warmed me all the way to my toes. How loving him was simultaneously the most wonderful and most terrifying feeling in the world and that I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

  I felt like maybe this was a really dumb thing to do as the song started. Soft piano, delicate and tentative like our first touches. And then the cello—played by a new friend from the coffee shop—stronger and more sure. The violin followed, somehow desperate and intense. Passionate. The three rose together until the guitar joined, sultry and smooth, as the song reached its peak. Listening to it with him, I heard all the flaws, how simple the cello piece was, the lack of percussion, the slightly hollow sound of the recording.

  I wanted to take it back and pretend it hadn’t happened. Why had I thought this was a good gift? I worried my hands together.

  “You wrote this for me?” he asked me quietly as the song came to a close.

  Something moved behind his eyes and I froze at the tenderness in his expression. I nodded.

  “Zirah, that was amazing, I can’t even…” His kiss was enough to erase all those worries. With his forehead pressed to mine, he whispered, “I love you.”

  I blushed, smiling. When Dennis pulled back, I remembered our audience and turned scarlet.

  “Did you play all of those?” Will asked.

  “No. The cello was a friend of mine.”

  No one said anything after that and Helen rushed to grab the next gift. After we cleaned everything up and our gifts were tucked away, Will and Helen went into the kitchen to clean up breakfast. They were no sooner out of the room when Dennis pulled me into his lap and just held me. I cuddled into his chest, sighing in contentment.

  “This has been the best Christmas I remember. Thank you, Dennis.”

  His arms tightened around me.

  “I like your parents.”

  “This has been the best Christmas I’ve had in a long time too. And what did I tell you? My parents love you.” He kissed my hair. “Everyone loves you. How could they not? I have another surprise for you. I hope it’s okay.”

  I sat up, curious, and he set me on the couch before rising and leaving the room. He came back with his iPad and handed it to me. Steve’s face filled the screen.

  Facetime.

  For some stupid reason, tears flooded my eyes as he beamed at me and shouted, “Merry Christmas.”

  Andy and Steve’s oldest daughter crowded into the frame and a head popped up at the bottom, a small voice yelling hello. My family passed what I imagined was Steve’s phone around. My niece
s and nephews had changed so much in the months since I’d seen them last. I talked a little to each of them. And then Heather’s face filled the screen and the background blurred, telling me she was moving. She went into the bathroom and closed the door.

  “Zirah. I’m so sorry.” Her eyes welled with tears. “I should have told you. I should have taken you with me when I left. I just … I got caught in the story. In the lie. I should have done so many things differently.”

  I stared at her face and that familiar ache started in my chest. “Heather, I love you. I’m just hurt. And I was so mad.” I took a deep breath. “And I’m confused. I don’t know what to call you. My sister? My mom? I put up with so much stuff for so many years. If I’d known, maybe I’d have gotten out sooner. But, Heather…” I almost felt bad saying it, but I wanted her to know. “I’m happy here.”

  “I know. Andy told me how good you’re doing. How much you’ve changed. I’m proud of you. As a sister. I was a baby when I had you and I wasn’t mother material. I probably wasn’t mother material when I had Christian either, but I wasn’t alone then. I thought I was doing the right thing giving you to Mom to raise. I tried to be there for you, but by the time I met Ted and we got married, the lie was so deep. I thought I’d do more damage if I told you. If I’d known, really known about what Reggie did to you…”

  I sucked in a breath. “He told you?”

  She nodded, her eyes red and her nose running. She tore off a piece of toilet paper and blew her nose. “Your back… He told me about it. Shit, Z, why didn’t you tell me? Or Andy or Steve. Someone!”

  “I was a child. I was scared and confused. And broken. I was pretty freaking broken. But I’m healing.” I glanced over at Dennis and scooted a little closer. “I want you to meet my boyfriend. Dennis this is my … this is Heather.”

  Heather studied his face and smiled. “He’s cute.”

  I snorted.

  “He treat you good?”

  I beamed. “The best. I love him, Heather.” Her eyes snapped to my face and her smile was warm and genuine. Dennis kissed my temple and squeezed me.