Finally, he spoke again. “What do you mean? As in, you reading the music? You don’t use sheet music.”
I had thought about this many times. The whole emotion behind the piece that I wanted him to convey was one of deception, not really seeing what was in front of you. What better way to show that than my staring at sheets of music on the wall? For years, I had learned to play by ear, and for years, people had never really seen me as the woman I was.
“I was thinking of a white room, like my acoustic room. Instead of the sound boards, it will have sheets of music everywhere. It will represent that sometimes what is front of you and what you are seeing isn’t really so. It can, in fact, be quite deceptive.”
Stillness wrapped around me as the room went silent.
A minute passed before he said, “I want to understand why you feel this way. Do you feel”—he paused—“like I don’t see the real you?”
I took a deep breath and shook my head. “Oh no. Phillipe, God no. See, that’s the whole point of the piece. I want to call itDeceptive. I want it to make people think.”
He cupped my cheek and pressed his lips against my own. “Who do you think doesn’t understand you?”
“Everyone,” I replied quickly before shaking my head. “No, that’s not true. My parents, people who don’t take the time to know me, the ones who find out I’m blind and make a split-second judgment.”
I opened my eyes and turned to where I thought he would be. I strained to see, trying to remember everything about my dream from just the night before.
“I want them to see what they think I am but wonder at the title.”
“Deceptive,” he muttered against my lips, trying out the title.
I sighed, and his tongue entered my mouth. He kissed me deeply before pulling back.
“Truer words have never been spoken. You are so much more than they all know.”
“I love you,” I told him.
His hands trembled where they cupped my face. “And I love you.”
Phillipe reaches up and covers Gemma’s hand where she still has it pressed to his cheek. Slowly, he moves it until her open palm is against his mouth.
Keeping his eyes on hers, he kisses her there. “Thank you.” He can see her eyes beginning to fill with water as she blinks, trying to keep her emotions in check.
Shaking her head, she replies, “I didn’t do anything.”
“You have done far more than you know,” he whispers against her soft skin.
“No,” she replies. She moves her hand down his neck, running her fingers across his chest. “Don’t do that yet.”
“Don’t do what?”
He reaches up, intent on removing her hands, but she’s not having it. Instead, she removes them herself and steps forward. Boldly, she reaches under his sweater to touch the top of his pants.
“I feel like you’re saying goodbye to me,” she explains, undoing the top button.
Phillipe takes a deep breath as she slowly lowers the zipper and looks up at him with wide eyes. He tightly grips the wrist at his waist as his heart picks up at what he’s about to do. Taking her hand, he loses the will to speak as she drops to her knees before him. She blows a warm breath of air against his now painfully hard cock. He’s trying to tell her something, but words are failing him as he looks down to see her sizing him up like her next meal.
“Gemma,” he says, trying to stop her again.
“Shh,” she replies. Looking up at him, she parts his pants. “Let me.”
Closing his eyes, Phillipe lets his head fall back.This is a bad idea for so many reasons.He’s just finding it hard to come up with one.
“You shouldn’t,” he tells her.
As he reaches down to grip her hair, she dips her hands inside and gently pulls him free. Leaning forward, she touches the tip with her tongue and looks up at him. “But I want to.”
“Gemma, this doesn’t change or help anything.”
