If I stayed here another ten seconds and watched her face twist in that silent, musical ecstasy, I was going to ruin everything. I was going to walk over there, drag her off that bench, and take her right on top of that fucking piano in front of the entire goddamn restaurant.
And that wasn't the plan.
With monumental effort, I peeled myself off the wall. I needed distance.Now.
Turning my back on her took more willpower than I thought I possessed, but I forced my legs to move, retracing my steps the way I'd come in.
The music followed me, growing fainter with every step. But the image of her with her head thrown back and her fingers dancing across the keys was burned behind my eyelids.
I shoved through the heavy steel rear exit, and the night air hit me like a slap to the face as the door slammed shut behind me.
The ghost of her music still played in my head, taunting me.
But it was the visual that broke me. The memory of her head thrown back, her throat expose, her face twisted in that beautiful, silent ecstasy.
With a quick glance around, I shoved a hand into my waistband, ripping my zipper down and freeing my cock. It sprang out, aching and heavy, already weeping. Bracing my forearm against the rough brick wall, I buried my face in the crook of my elbow, and wrapped my fingers around the steel-hard length.
Raven.
My hand moved. Fast. Rough. Unforgiving.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I plunged myself into the dark where she lived. Every stroke was a desperate bid to replace that piano.Iwanted to be the reason she made that face.Iwanted to be the one drawing those sounds from her throat. I wanted to ruin her for anyone—or anything—else.
My jaw ached, teeth grinding together as the pressure built in my balls, insistent and painful.
"Fucking... hell."
It didn't take long.
The climax hit me hard and fast. A guttural groan tore from my chest as I came, hips bucking instinctively. Opening my eyes, I spilled hot and messy against the cold brickwork, coating the grime of the wall in white. I stroked through the release, milking every drop of the madness out of my system until my knees felt weak.
Gasping for air, forehead resting against the sleeve of my jacket, I waited for the world to stop spinning. Then I gingerly tucked myself back into my pants and zipped things up.
The alley still smelled slightly like chemicals, and the area I'd cleaned was still lighter than the surrounding asphalt. Give itanother few weeks and the rain and rats and grease would erase the evidence.
That's what I was supposed to be. A man who erased things. Who left no trace.
Instead, I was standing in the shadows beside a dumpster, with my come dripping down the wall, waiting for a blind woman like a dog waiting for his owner.
You're fucking pathetic,that voice inside my head told me. But in this moment, I didn't care.
The steel door opened at exactly 10:47.
Raven stepped out. Her cane was folded, tucked under her arm. But she didn't need it, because she wasn't going anywhere.
She stopped just outside the door.
"I can hear you breathing," she said.
I didn't answer. Didn't trust my voice.
She tilted her head, and the streetlight caught the angle of her cheekbone, the shadow beneath. "Did you watch me play?"
"I always watch you play."
"Not always," she said softly. "I felt the tension in you tonight. I felt you leave."
Watching her chest rise and fall with quick, short breaths, my cock swelled. She couldn't possibly know, couldn't possibly see the evidence straining against my pants, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that she knew. She always fucking knew.
