“That was before. You’re different now.”
“Am I?” His voice was painfully uncertain. “How do you know I won’t fall back into old patterns? How do you know one performance won’t lead to another, and another, until I’m right back where I started?”
“Because you have something now that you didn’t have then.” She pressed her forehead to his. “You have roots. A home. A community that loves you. And you have me.”
His breath caught.
“I’m not going anywhere, Ben. No matter what you decide. But I think you’re selling yourself short if you believe you can’t handle this. You’ve proven you can control yourself. Six years of control. Don’t you think you’ve earned the right to trust yourself a little?”
For a long moment, he said nothing. She could feel the tension in his body, the war between desire and fear playing out beneath his skin. She didn’t push. She just held him and let him feel her unwavering belief in him.
“One set,” he said finally.
Her heart leapt. “Really?”
“One set. At the festival. And if it goes badly?—”
“It won’t.”
“But if it does?—”
“Then we’ll deal with it. Together.” She kissed him softly. “Thank you for trusting me.”
“I trust you with everything.” His arms came around her, pulling her close. “That’s what terrifies me.”
“Good terror or bad terror?”
“Both.” He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. “Definitely both.”
She smiled against his shoulder, feeling the last of her nervousness dissolve into warmth. He’d said yes. After six years of punishing himself and denying the part of him that needed music like it needed air, he’d said yes.
“I should go tell the committee,” she murmured. “They’ll need to know about the schedule change.”
“In a minute.” His arms tightened around her. “Just… stay. For a minute.”
She stayed, happily nuzzling his neck.He’s going to be magnificent,she thought as he pulled her closer.
“It’s almost a shame you agreed so quickly,” she purred as his hands tightened on her hips.
“Why?”
“I was considering other ways to convince you.”
“What did you have in mind?” he asked, his voice rough.
She pushed him gently back into his chair and knelt in front of him, her hands going to his belt buckle.
“Maybe I could start with this…”
He sucked in a sharp breath. “Sara…”
“Unless you’d rather I stopped?”
“Fuck, no.”
She unbuckled his belt and ran her hand down his stomach, freeing him from his sheath. He seemed even bigger like this, the thick silver shaft glistening against the darker fur of his stomach. She leaned forward and took him into her mouth.
He groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily. “God, Sara. I can’t…”
