Reverse (Bittersweet Symphony Duet #2)

FORTY-SEVEN “Space Song”

FORTY-SEVEN

“Space Song”

Beach House

Natalie

“W -w-what?” I stutter out as Easton speaks up, but not to me.

“I’m done tonight, man,” he barks to an approaching stagehand, his intense gaze still trained on me. “Please walk away,” he orders more aggressively. There’s no sign of a bluff anywhere in his expression as he watches me while weighing my reaction to his proposal. The stagehand scurries away as I gape up at him before he calls for Joel. I faintly make out Joel’s approach in my periphery, eyes bolted to Easton’s. “Please grab us a car. We’re right behind you.”

“On it,” Joel replies as Easton continues to hold me captive, eyes searching.

“Marry me,” he repeats, “let’s do it, let’s make a life together.” He slowly lifts my left hand and presses a soft, full-lipped kiss to my empty ring finger. “Marry me because we’re the rare, lucky ones who managed to find something together so many others don’t have—it would feel criminal not to. For both our sakes, marry me, Beauty, right now, marry me tonight .”

“Yes,” I whisper in answer. The only answer that rings clear in both head and heart. “Yes.”

Easton cuts off my third “yes,” with another soul-altering kiss that he ends far too abruptly before gripping my hand and leading me off stage and down the stairs. And then we’re running down the halls, purposefully ignoring everyone and everything that could interfere with our hasty getaway. Easton’s euphoric smile is all I can see as we race toward the garage. I return it, knowing my skin is splotchy, and I look an utter wreck. Plastered to his side, I keep my eyes on him as we silently ride down the elevator, the guards caging us before we’re ushered into the back of an SUV. The second the door closes, Easton curses and addresses Joel, who’s already in the driver’s seat.

“Joel, we need privacy, now . Can you please make that happen?”

He glances back and effortlessly reads the situation. “I’ve got you.”

Joel exits the car, and in minutes we’re exchanging the back seat of the SUV for a limo. As the privacy glass rises, Easton speaks up with another request. “Play us something, anything .”

“You got it,” Joel muses just before the window seals shut.

Soft melodic music begins to fill the limo as I turn to him.

“What are you doi—” Easton cuts me off, kissing me with wild abandon before his calloused fingers dip into my jacket, and he palms my bare breast.

“Jesus, are you trying to kill me?” He cuts off any reply by again sealing our mouths together and thrusting his explorative tongue against mine. Hands roaming, mouths fused, we get lost in each other before he breaks away, pressing our foreheads together.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs. “I can’t get close enough.” He pulls me to straddle him before elongating the seatbelt and buckling us in together as I giggle against his lips. Not long after, all traces of humor disappear as he pushes the shoulders of his jacket down. My hardened nipples brush his T-shirt as I moan my request for more into his mouth. Overcome with the need to feel him, I manage to ease back enough into the restraint to unbuckle his jeans. Dipping into his boxers, I grip his velvet, hard length before brushing a bead of moisture over the fat head of his cock.

“See, not broken, just mine.” I pump him firmly to reiterate my point while he trails kisses down my neck.

“No question about that. Fuck, I missed you,” he hums as he tugs his jacket cinched around my waist. “I fucking love this.”

“I hoped you would.”

“I love you ,” he breathes. “Feels good to say it.”

“I love you too, Easton, so damned much. I’ve been stopping myself from saying it for weeks,” I admit before playfully scolding him. “You freaked me out a little today when you didn’t text back.”

“I had work to do,” he pauses between kisses. “I wanted it to be perfect.”

“It was, but you screwed yourself and set a high bar.”

“Oh yeah?” he grins, pulling my hand from his pants to slide his own hand into my shorts, running teasing fingers through my soaked center. “Give me ten minutes with this perfect pussy , and I’ll set it higher. Bet .”

“Shameless,” I croak out, my voice coated in lust, my desire spiking as he latches onto my nipple. Gasping, I watch him feed, riding his fingers while running my own through his sweat-soaked hair. “Please, Easton, please, I need to feel you.” I grind onto him as he pulls away, shaking his head.

“I can’t love you the way I need to in this fucking limo,” he groans in frustration, withdrawing his hand. “I want to lay you down somewhere soft and . . . white,” he insists, looking at me with a love-soaked expression, one I immediately burn into memory.

“Please,” I whimper as he gently shakes his head again, his eyes glittering over me as he threads my wandering fingers between his.

“No, baby, no. The next time I cum inside you, you’re going to be my wife.”

He takes my lips again, so lovingly that my emotions get the best of me, and an elated tear escapes me as he continually feeds my euphoria. We kiss, hands tenderly exploring until the light of the cabin flashes in warning.

Easton pulls his lips from mine and stares down at my breasts. “As much as I hate to do this,” he gently suckles each of my nipples before lifting the jacket.

His gaze prodding, I relent and push my arms into the sleeves as he secures it back into place so I’m covered.

“That was just mean,” I protest, unfastening the seatbelt and sliding off his lap. Securing his jacket in place, I pull my belt tighter as he tries to wrestle his raging hard-on into his jeans. I can’t help my smile as he struggles to conceal his massive erection and notices my smirk.

“You think this is funny?”

“I think it’s fair. I mean it. You’ve ruined me completely with that grand gesture, and not just tonight— forever .” I blow out a harsh breath. “I hope you’re happy.”

His smile broadens as he wins the battle with his jeans before he grips my hand and begins kissing my fingertips.

“Stop smiling, you ass. There’s no undoing this.”

“Good.”

I snag his hair and pull gently. “You better mean that.”

“I’m about to pledge my life to you—proof enough?”

“We’re really doing this?”

Determination takes residence in his tone. “Fuck yeah, we are. Reckless and stupid maybe, but stupid happy .”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Unable to help myself, I climb back onto his lap and start to shower him with kisses. “You,” kiss, “told,” kiss, “ everyone ,” kiss, “that you love me,” kiss. “The world .”

“Hold up, baby,” he says, jostling me on his lap.

“Nope, we’re decent enough,” I fire back while continuing my kisses as he chuckles.

“Hold still, Beauty. Just for a second,” he muses, trying to juggle me as I turn to see that he’s plucked his favorite black star pinky ring between his fingers. I stare at it before he grips my left hand and pushes the ring on—the fit perfect—my eyes misting before looking back at him.

“Just until we pick up something else.”

“I don’t care,” I exclaim. Giddy, I screech out my bliss before continuing my assault, drawing another laugh out of him. “I love you,” I murmur, working my way along his jaw, his neck, the hollow of his throat. He snakes his arms around me and lures me back into a slow, exploratory kiss which quickly sets us both ablaze. I pant into his mouth, grinding against him before belting out my demand.

“Fuck me,” I murmur. “Fuck me right now, and make love to me later .”

“I’ll do both later. Jesus, Beauty, we have to stop. We’re about to pull up to the hotel.” I groan as he gently lifts me by the hips and deposits me back into my seat. He rakes his lip, eyeing my heaving chest and the flush in my skin. “I promise I’ll make the wait worth it.”

“Jesus, Easton, as if I need anything other than what you’ve already given me.”

“It’s only going to get better,” he assures me as we straighten ourselves while we approach the hotel. The second we’re stopped, the back door to the limo opens, and a valet greets us warmly. Behind the valet, I get a glimpse of sliding glass doors just as Easton grips the door handle. “Not yet, man, thanks.” Easton turns to me, his finger on the partition button. “Tonight?”

“Yes,” I nod repeatedly. “Yes.”

Joel comes into view and glances back in the rearview at the two of us. My neck heats as Easton speaks up.

“Hey man, change of plans. Just grab our bags and check us out. We’re going back to the jet.”

“Yeah?” Joel turns back, grinning between the two of us. “Where are we off to?”

“You tell me, best man ,” Easton declares, brushing his thumb along my newly occupied ring finger while holding it up for his perusal.

Joel’s eyes widen, his smile amping. “Vegas it is.”

Frowning at our destination, Easton glances over at me, a plan clearly forming behind his eyes. “You know what, man? I have a much better idea.”

I exchanged vows with my supernova while the rest of the hovering stars lay witness, enviously blinking before fading into dawn. Easton pushed the matching black titanium wedding band onto my finger just as the sun peeked over the horizon. Though our ceremony was simple, and our traditional vows have been recited countless times by others before us—it was still uniquely ours.

While Joel checked them both out and gathered their luggage, Easton conducted a brief internet search, keeping me out of arm’s reach, and his private loop by shielding his phone from me. By the time we got to the idling plane, he solidified the plans, only sharing them with Joel. We touched down at a private airstrip in Arizona just after one in the morning. The next few dizzying hours were an array of unanswered questions, my questions , as Joel and Easton gathered what and who we needed to elope. The patience I kept during those clueless hours paid off the second Easton led me from the back of another SUV.

Easton’s idea had been to unify us beneath a glittering sky, rather than neon lights, in a far more private part of the desert.

Our guest list short—Joel, a local officiant, and a pastor Easton managed to bribe out of bed by paying off a good portion of their mortgages. Between the look in Easton’s eyes, the sincerity in his voice, and our starlight to sunrise wedding, his vision easily superseded anything I could have ever dreamt up.

It fit.

It was us.

It was perfect.

The point was driven home further within the length of a song. A song I requested Joel play as he whisked us toward our resort. The song Easton serenaded me with before proposing. A song now embedded into my heart’s playlist alongside the others that mark the milestones between us.

Too overcome with excitement to sleep but every bit in a dreamlike state, Easton carried me over the threshold of what could only be described as a honeymooner’s paradise. Nested into a ridiculous four thousand square feet, our private, two-story, adobe-style villa at the resort felt constructed from a dream. It was clear Joel came through again in a major way—plush furniture, the best linens, a fireplace, a jacuzzi, an outdoor hot tub, and windows that gave way to spectacular views.

Not that it mattered where we were the second we were alone.

Within a minute, maybe two, of closing the door, Easton laid me down on a soft white bed and proceeded to kiss every inch of my skin before we consummated our marriage in the most incredible way. Wedding rings clinked together next to my head on the mattress, and my husband’s love-filled eyes bored into mine. We quickly lost all sense of time as he brought me to completion over and over again before he succumbed himself. Early morning light fully invaded our piece of desert paradise before Easton and I finally spent ourselves to the point that exhaustion took over. After a shower, I barely remember being ushered back into bed before Easton blacked out the sunlight, and I sank into a blissful coma.

Staring at the black titanium band on my finger, I’m warmed by the memory of rousing to his kiss as he pressed worshipful lips to my occupied ring finger before pressing into me , whispering, “Good afternoon, Mrs. Crowne.”

Glancing over at Easton now, I soak in the gravity of what my ring means, unable to summon any regret. Thick hair whipping around his face, Ray-Bans shielding his eyes from the desert sun, Easton navigates the winding road, both hands on the wheel. My eyes pause on the thicker black band on his left hand as I mentally pinch myself. Though I wanted to stay in bed for more consummation, Easton insisted on driving me through the backdrop he’d chosen for our honeymoon. Forcing my gaze away from my husband, I marvel at the terracotta-smeared mountains and clustered boulders of a similar shade that make up the Sedona landscape.

Breathing in the reality that today, I woke up Easton’s bride, I can’t help the joyful tears that fill my eyes as I slide my thumb along my newly christened ring finger.

“It’s so beautiful, Easton.”

And hot.

But a different kind of heat than Texas hellfire. The AC on full blast in the cabin making it bearable. It’s the feeling of serenity here that has me melting into the seat, relaxed, the atmosphere unlike any I’ve ever known. Being in this part of the desert is like existing underwater, tranquil and slow-moving. Like the outside world exists, but it’s muffled and seems unimportant. As if all of the rest of the world’s chaos doesn’t apply here.

“This is a dream,” I declare over the music. Easton doesn’t reply but lifts my left hand as he has a dozen or more times since we woke, pressing another gentle kiss to my ring finger. The pleasure he takes in the act is clear in his features when he does it. Easton turns the radio dial to settle on another song. We’d turned off our phones last night before we boarded the jet and have taken every precaution since to keep ourselves concealed and under the radar.

We only let the top down when we are miles into the drive on the two-lane road. Our surreal surroundings only add to the fuzzy haze of the hours preceding this. Less than twenty-four hours ago, I was slumped against my apartment door, questioning my fit into Easton’s life.

Thumbing my ring now, I decide the fit is fucking perfect.

Feeling utterly at peace in my surroundings and my position and place with the man by my side, I appreciate him more due to the fact he didn’t want me to miss this, even when we have the divine right to be naked hermits. Still, I fight to keep my eyes on the spectacular terrain instead of the view next to me.

“Space Song” croons through the cabin as Easton drives quietly at my side. Turning to him, I realize he hasn’t replied to me because he’s lost somewhere in his music subspace, far beyond my reach. Silently, I wait for him to come back to me, knowing whatever magic going on inside his head deserves the attention he’s giving it. A few minutes later, he speaks up.

“Sorry, did you say something, Beauty?”

I grip his hand and kiss along his knuckles. “Nothing important.”

“What was it?”

“I said this is a dream, and I love it here, but then I noticed you were doing your thing.”

“What thing ?”

“You know, when you blast off into a musical coma at random.”

He chuckles. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not getting in the way of that for anything .”

“That so?” I’m graced with a half-smile.

“Honestly? I’m dying to know what’s happening in there. Where did you go?”

“Playing around with a melody that sounds a lot like you.”

“Will you play it for me sometime?”

“Of course,” he quips as if it’s a given. “And I’ll try to be more conscious about my space travels, especially now.”

“No!” I shout, and he flinches, gripping the wheel tighter.

“Beauty. I love you, I do, but please fucking refrain from screaming out when we’re on narrow, winding roads in the middle of the mountains.”

I wince. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just . . . if you get lost, stay there. I’ll come for you when it’s important.”

“It’s not exactly a habit I want to maintain when we’re together.”

“Fuck that noise. It’s your process, Easton. I won’t disturb your momentum for anything .” I tilt my head back and get the perfect panoramic view of red mountain and turquoise sky. “God, Easton, you make the most beautiful music. I cannot wait to hear what you come up with next. Neither can the world and,” I spout with pride, admiring my band, “the next show I attend, I’ll be stage side as your wife.”

Easton slides his glasses onto his head and slows on the straightaway, his eyes trailing over my profile before he flicks his gaze back to the road.

“What?” I ask as he slows to a stop and parks on a designated shoulder next to some giant evergreens. “Why are we stopping?” I glance around, looking for a landmark of some sort. “Are we taking pictures?”

Without a word, he closes the top, and locks us in, turning down the music as the air cools our skin. Glancing over, I lift a brow.

“Good sir, we cannot do . . . whatever it is you’re thinking of doing, and I’m pretty sure what you’re thinking will include an arrest . This is a state park.”

Eyes intent, he reaches over and caresses my face, his features relaxed, his eyes softening.

“What?” I grin. “What is it?”

“You know what my father calls my mother?”

“Grenade.”

“Yeah. That’s his pet name for her. Because that’s the way he saw her when they met. A ball of destruction.”

“Are you saying—”

“Oh, hell yes, you are. That’s what you are for me. Charging into my life wearing a dozen mismatched sweaters, pissed off about the fact that you hadn’t been properly loved, kissed, or fucked.”

“I said no such thing.”

“You didn’t have to,” he murmurs.

“You pulled me over to tell me I’m a nightmare?”

“Yes, but there’s more, so shut up, Beauty.” He positions his thumb over my lips, and I give him a dead stare which makes him chuckle.

“I always wondered why I never gave too much of myself away to anyone in a personal capacity and felt more comfortable in isolation. Sometimes it would worry me. Like maybe I was lacking some basic human need . . . until I met you.” His confession lingers between us as my eyes begin to water. “I’ve also never shared a comfortable silence with anyone but my parents—until you. I’ve never felt as seen, known, or understood as I have with you.” He swallows before his lips twist ironically. “Who would have thought I would find so much comfort in who I am with—a Texas fireball full of opposition who disguised herself as a journalist.”

“Damn it, man,” I scold, tears spilling over.

“Thinking back now,” he continues, “I think I knew you existed and was waiting.” He kisses me soundly and pulls away. “My

wife ,” his tone full of wonder. “You found me.”

“Easton,” I sigh, as my heart swells unbearably, “you have seriously got to stop this. I was okay with you being gorgeous, brilliant, talented, selfless, and really, really , good in bed, but adding hopeless romantic is going way too far.”

He chuckles before brushing his lips across mine. “Baby, you have no idea how good it feels to know that you love me the same way I love you.”

“And how do we love each other?”

“Wholly, unconditionally, and definitively .”

“Jesus,” I sniff, climbing over the console. “You just had to play hardball, huh? Fine.” I situate myself around him in the tiny space, deciding to risk jail time.

He’s worth it.