“I wrote this?”
“Just for me,” I affirm.
Her chest heaves again as she breathes in and out, and I start to play for her in earnest. My fingers glide across the strings and ruts, and not once do I look away from her. The song she wrote for me is heartbreaking in its melody. The ebb and flow of the musical notes are filled with longing. She wrote it about us. The music is our story. As Elizabeth sits cross-legged on the piano bench, she closes her eyes and begins to hum the tune. Does she remember? Is the music transporting her back to that night where we danced cheek to cheek, longing and love flowing between us?
She has her hair up today in a loose bun, little wisps hanging down on the sides of her face and on her neck. I take a mental picture of how she looks now, like a blond Titian goddess, wishing I had my phone out to capture her beauty with my camera. I finish playing as her humming grows softer and an electric silence penetrates the room.
Her misty green eyes open. “I really need you to kiss meright now, Ryder.”
I’m off the stool and kneeling at the bench before she can annunciate another syllable. My hands go to her hips and she uncrosses her legs and slides down to straddle my lap. Pure, unadulterated lust crashes through me. I curl my fingers across the back of her neck as she grabs hold of mine, and we both pull at the same time until our mouths crash against one another. There’s no time for waiting as our mouths open, my tongue seeking hers out, hers tangling with mine. I am rock hard in an instant and Elizabeth doesn’t help matters when she grinds down on me, a whimper of a mewl escaping past our ravenous kiss.
She grabs and pulls the hair on the back of my head and I return the favor, the slight jerk I give hers causing her to gasp and attack my mouth with greater fervor. I’ll have to remember to file that bit of knowledge away to use at a later time. We break for air, both gasping before we come back together again. It’ll never be enough, I think. I’ll never get enough of her kisses. The way she nibbles and bites down lightly on my bottom lip. The way she presses her soft curves flat against my hard body. The way her sighs of pleasure turn me on like no other sound has.
Elizabeth’s stroking hands begin to move. She pushes my shirt up at the waist and delves inside, her fingers touching and kneading every dip, every muscle of my chest. When she feels the hair on my chest, her fingers curl in and hold. I keep a strong grasp on her neck so I can guide and angle her head as I lay siege to her mouth. I allow my other hand to roam up until it’s cupping and lifting her breast, my thumb slowly tracing across her erect nipple through her tank top. I know I shouldn’t be doing this here where anyone can walk in and discover us, but I decide not to care. My need to feel her come undone in my arms is overtaking my common sense.
“Ryder. Oh,” she pants and grinds down even harder on me. I ease my grip as she throws her head back. With her mouth out of reach, my lips go to her exposed throat. I lick a path up the smooth column of skin until I get to the pressure point where her shoulder meets her neck, and bite down lightly with my teeth. Elizabeth’s body jerks and shudders and she lets out the sexiest moan. That’s another thing I’ll catalog for later. I lathe the patch of her delicate skin with my tongue and give that patch of skin a more few kisses. I continue my lips’ caress up to her ear where I spend a few minutes softly nibbling. By the time I pull back, Elizabeth is a writhing, moaning, quaking mess on my lap.
She tips her head back down to look at me, her eyes completely glazed over and dilated, her breath coming in jagged pants. I smile and peck a tender kiss to the tip of her nose. “Hey, beautiful.”
Elizabeth exhales a shaky, shuddering breath and re-grips her arms and legs around me. “Jesus, Ryder.” Her eyes refocus and dilate again as she stares at my grinning mouth. I’m about to lift her up and press her against the nearest wall when the door to the music room opens.
A thin, tall guy holding a trumpet case steps inside and halts when he sees us, eyes bugging out of his head when he notices Elizabeth wrapped around me, her hand up my shirt, and my hand cupped over her breast.
“Oh, man, I’m so sorry. I, um…this room. Booked it for the next hour, I mean. I’ll just step outside.”
We both burst out laughing after he closes the door. Elizabeth drops her head down on my shoulder.
“I think he meant to say he has this room booked,” she tries to get out between giggles. I place both my hands under her delicious ass and lift myself up while still holding her in my arms.
“How the hell do you guys do that?!”
“Do what?” I kiss her neck one last time before releasing her.
“Never mind. It must be a guy thing.”
She straightens her top then smooths my shirt back into place as I adjust myself in my shorts, my desire for her clearly visible. It’s going to take a minute or two for me to calm down.
“Thank you for the song,” she says.
“Thank you for the kiss.”
“It was anamazingkiss.”
“So amazing, we’ll need to do it again.”
“Hell, yes,” she replies. “I can’t wait until Friday.”
We open the door to see trumpet guy waiting outside, looking at the floor because he’s not able to look at us when we come out.
“Sorry if we wasted any of your practice time,” Elizabeth apologizes to him.
Still not looking at us, he squeezes past and into the room with a “not a problem” before shutting the door.
Carrying our bags in one hand, I lead Elizabeth outside. She takes our joined hands and pulls them behind her so that she can press up against my side. “I think we scandalized that guy for life,” she snickers.
“He’ll live. Let’s get you to your next class. I’m racing tonight so will be leaving for the track once I get out of my next class. Are we doing breakfast tomorrow morning?”
“That’s the plan. Well, if I survive Julien’s grueling ten-mile torture run.”
