He runs his fingers across the deep line in silence as I let him take it in.
“One night, I was walking down Bleecker Street with my guitar player, Tony, and drummer, Donnie, after a gig. All I remember is people screaming around me and being thrown out of the way by Donnie before everything went black.”
His arms grip around me tighter as tears start to fall, and I wait until I am composed enough to continue.
“They both died that night.”
“Oh, Sarah.” He pulls me into his lap, and I go willingly.
“I haven’t spoken about that night in years. My best friend, Maggie, is the only person who knows besides my family. I was keeping my singing a secret from everyone back home. I even used a different last name, like you do.”
His grin shows me he understands our connection even more now.
“The lead singer from the other band tried to run us over. He’s in jail for murder now. I couldn’t believe someone could have so much hatred for someone else just because they were more successful.”
“Is that why you moved back? Gave up on your dreams?”
I nod as I wipe a tear. “My dad was furious with me when he found out what I’d really been up to and why he’d attacked us. He’s an old-school pastor and very set in his ways.”
I take a deep breath, ready to fill him in on what’s really been bothering me. “He calls rock musicdevil musicand said it was God’s way of getting back at me.”
“Are you shitting me?”
I tilt my head down. “I wish I were.”
He picks me up and sits me next to him, so I’m looking straight at him. “You can’t honestly think that. This is why I hate religion. Making someone feel guilty for their misfortune because some asshole was jealous is just flat-out wrong.”
“I didn’t want to think the God I love would do this. But I questioned why something like that happened to me all the time.” I reach my hand up to his face, feeling his stubble under my palm. “That is, until I met you. I had my faith that God had a plan for me. And look, he brought me you. You’ve shown me the good in people again. You’ve shown me the truth that’s out there, and it doesn’t matter what you listen to or who you want to be in life”—I place my hand on his chest—“it’s what’s in here that counts more.”
He leans in, meeting his lips to mine in a move so loving and soft that I lose my breath. I reach up to place my hands on either side of his face, and his instantly go on my head, holding me there as he intensifies the kiss.
His touch is soothing me, and his lips are healing me. Being able to open up to anyone about this is like breathing a breath of fresh air, and knowing that he not only understands my pain, but also wants to hold me through it means so much to me.
I love this man. I love the person he is, the dad he is, and I love the way he lights my soul on fire. He’s everything I thought I’d never have. Him being in the industry I’ve been running from for years is no coincidence. We were meant for each other, and without Cailin here, I’m ready to show him just how much he means to me.
He stands and leans down, picking me up and taking my body with him as he walks into the house. I go as easily as possible, making sure he feels no hesitation. I’ve never wanted anything as bad as I want him right now.
Our breaths intertwine as our tongues dance in perfect rhythm. I never take them from his as he makes his way to his bedroom, kicking the door shut and laying me down on the bed. My heart pounds as he slowly lowers his large frame over mine.
I move my hands to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. His smile meets mine, and I wrap my legs around his waist, wanting to feel his body pressed against me.
His hands repeat my movement and slip my shirt over my head. Our bodies pressed against each other builds a hunger deep within me as I kick off my shoes and reach for his pants.
His smirk could melt my panties right off of me as he places his hand over mine, stopping my movement.
“I don’t want to rush this. Cailin will be gone for hours. We have time.” He leans down and kisses up my neck as he takes his hand into mine, bringing it above my head.
After bringing my other hand to the top, he motions for me to leave them there as he runs his finger down my face, my neck, and to my cleavage where he swirls his fingers up and down the valleys before pulling the straps of my bra down and engulfing my breast with his palm.
I lift my back off the bed, wanting more of his touch as he pulls my other strap down. When his lips wrap around my taut nipple, a zing of electricity jolts through my body and lands down low.
My legs tighten around him, pulling him right into where I need the pressure. The chuckle that escapes his lips is not lost, but I don’t care how greedy I am being right now.
I’ve never been so turned on in my life, and having to keep my hands above my head is both torture and delicious pleasure. It’s almost too much, watching him take his time as he roams my body.
When his mouth finds my other nipple, the same effect ripples through me, and I bring him even tighter to me, rubbing against him, trying to build the friction I so desperately need right now.
I lower my hands, and he’s quick to put them back.
