Chapter Two
Dylan
All I want to do is spend the hours between midnight and sunrise talking to her. Maybe tracing the curves of her body until they’re permanently burned into my mind.
But I would rather sit with her, taking in the look on her face when she hears the songs I’ve been working on. I want to study the way she reacts. To see that little nose scrunch that she does when she’s trying not to laugh.
I barely know this woman and I’m already obsessed with her.
In a good way, not a creepy way.
Kaylie looks over her shoulder at me as we step into my penthouse. The first thing she takes in are the windows on the other side of the room, overlooking the city at night.
“I’m living in a shoebox and just barely scraping by with my rent, and here you are with this stunning place.” She runs her fingers over the buttery soft leather couch. “I should’ve gone into music.”
I head to the piano sitting in front of the windows, my fingers drifting over the keys. As I play the melody of You’re So Vain, she starts laughing.
“When you invited me over to listen to music, I thought we were going to be listening to your music,” she says, striding over to the piano, her hips swaying. She runs her fingers over the glossy black surface.
I shrug. “This seemed like a better option. Maybe I was hoping that you were going to sing for me.”
“Not a chance. I sound like a cat that’s been thrown in the dishwasher with a handful of rocks and a tin can.”
“You can’t possibly be that bad.”
She leans over the piano, looking down at the keys. “You’re never going to know.”
I laugh and look up at her, wondering who the hell I just brought to my house. She’s not like the usual women who go to my shows and beg to be brought home. Not that those women often get far either. The media may paint me as a man who sleeps around with anything that moves, but it’s pretty far from the truth.
Sure, there’s a woman every now and then. There might have been one a month at the high end of my partying days, but I’m getting older. The last thing I want to do right now is spend all night partying with the band and the rest of the crew when I could be here with her.
Kaylie tosses her long blonde hair over one shoulder, those sharp green eyes finding mine as she taps a key and throws off the melody I’m playing.
I stand from the piano and motion to the rest of the penthouse. “Tour?”
She rolls her eyes. “If it ends in your bedroom, I don’t think so.”
“And why would it end in my bedroom?” I smirk and get closer to her, taking one step forward for every step she takes back until her body is trapped between me and the wall, only a few inches between us. “The tour could end right here, or it could end bent over my piano. It could even end up with you spread on the counter.”
Her cheeks flame a dark shade of red but there’s an interest shining in her eyes too. And when her nipples pebble against her shirt, I can see either end of the little bars that go through them.
Now that’s hot.
I swell against my jeans, grateful that they’re tight enough to keep from showing off how much I want her as soon as I notice the piercings.
She puts her hands on my chest and gently nudges me back a step. “You’re cute, but we’re not going there tonight. I came over here with the promise of listening to some subpar music from a suspicious band.”
“You’re literally wearing a cropped shirt with my face on it right now.” I struggle to keep the smile off my face.
Kaylie pulls out the hem of her shirt, her arched eyebrows pulling together. “Oh, so that’s who that is.”
I snort and shake my head. “Don’t even try to pretend that you’re not half in love with me already and just waiting for the moment that I open my heart and pour out my soul to you.”
With a shrug, she moves to the couch and curls up in the corner, motioning to the piano. “Play for me, piano man.”
I grab one of my guitars from the wall instead, sitting beside her and playing the chords to Piano Man. She laughs and shakes her head, shifting in her seat as I perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of her.
“Alright, so I’ve started working on one,” I say, starting to strum a melody. “I haven’t thought much about the bass or the drums for it yet, but I’m workshopping it.”
“What’s it called?”
“Not sure yet.” I pluck a couple more cords. “Nipple piercings, bright green eyes, talks a lot of shit, perfect thighs.”
She bursts out laughing, her body shaking and tears gathering in her eyes. Kaylie wipes them away and gets up from the couch, making her way into my kitchen. “There is no way that’s your new song.”
“It’s going to be.”
As she rummages for wine glasses, I can’t do anything other than stare at her. She’s acting like this is her house and she belongs here. Like I’m just another person she’s spending the evening with.
It’s refreshing to not be the rock star to someone.
She grabs a bottle of white wine from the fridge and pours herself a glass, taking a sip before setting it to the side. Then she pours me a small glass of wine and brings it over.
“Do you have a shirt I can wear that doesn’t have your face on it?”
“Down the hall on the right. Pick anything you like.” I swallow hard, reaching for the wine before taking a long sip.
I don’t know what I’m going to do when she walks out here wearing my clothing. I might lose every single rational thought I’ve ever had.
Even thinking about trying to focus on the music is sending me into a tailspin.
This is all new territory for me. I don’t know what I’m doing or why. I’ve never invited a woman to come back to my home with the intention of only listening to music.
And when Kaylie comes striding out in those tight ripped skinny jeans and my favorite Red Bull Racing shirt, I know I’m never going to do it again.
There’s something about her that I wouldn’t mind getting to know over the next few weeks, until I go on tour again.
She sits down across from me again, glancing at the guitar. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had a man offer to play me some songs before.”
“You should probably get used to it.”
I begin to play, humming the song I’m working on, though the more time I spend with her, the less I think the lyrics fit. They used to be about the eternal search for the one you love, only to come up empty.
Looking at her now, I want to believe that there’s more than that. That there’s more than being alone forever.
I don’t know if that’s what I want, but as she’s staring at me with those green eyes and the small curve to her full lips, I have the strange desire to find out.
And maybe that’s why I set the guitar to the side and get up, sitting back down beside her on the couch.
She turns to face me, crossing her legs beneath her. “It was pretty. Haunting. I don’t know how you’re going to make it match with your current backlist, but if this is a new direction you want to take the band in, I think it could be a good one.”
“You don’t think that it’s too soft?”
“I think it could be a solid mix. Especially if you start to layer in the guitars, building to the chorus and then breaking and going back to that soft and haunting sound.” She leans forward, her gaze lost in thought. “It’s different, but it’s in a good way. One that I think people are really going to like.”
Her feedback feels like a glowing review of sorts. She’s going to like the song, and though that isn’t enough, it’s good enough to be a start. I’ll have to work on the album more with the band to see where it goes and what they think, but at least there’s a start.
I reach for my glass of wine and take a sip. “Tell me something about yourself.”
“I graduated high school a year early.”
My eyebrows climb up my forehead. “So what I’m hearing is that you work incredibly hard.”
Her eyes widen and her lips part slightly, drawing me in and making me think that once I kiss her I’m never going to want to leave.
She shakes her head, reaching for her own wine, sipping it with a smile. “Nobody has ever said that to me when they find out that I got through high school early. They always want to chalk it up to intelligence.”
“I think you’re incredibly smart too,” I say, tone teasing as I shift closer to her, my leg pressing against hers when I turn to face her. “After all, you did decide that I wasn’t a serial killer.”
“This is so far out of the realm of things I do.” She puts the glass to the side and stretches her legs out over my lap, making herself comfortable while leaning back into the armrest. “Would you believe it if I told you that I’ve never so much as kissed a man on the first date? I mean, I’m not a virgin or saving myself or any of that. It’s not that deep. I just don’t have time and most of the men I’ve gone out with can’t hold my attention for long enough.”
The corner of my mouth twitches as I trace my fingers over the skin showing through the rip in her pants. “How am I doing?”
A pink tinge floods her cheeks but there’s a cocky smile on her face. “You’re trailing.”
I snort and hook my hands around her thighs, pulling her closer to me, her head sliding down and hitting the cushions. “Wrong answer.”
“Worst time I’ve ever had,” she says through her giggles.
My hands skate up her legs, finding the ticklish spots on her sides. She laughs and tries to kick me away gently, her legs coming up between us until she finally gets to her knees and tackles me back against the couch.
Every inch of her body presses against mine as we tumble back against the cushions together. I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard, or when my cheeks ached this much from laughing.
And then the miniscule distance between us ends when her gaze locks with mine and her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks.
I don’t know where I end and she begins, but as my fingers sink into her hair and I pull her closer, I fully intend on getting lost with her.
Those soft lips mold to mine perfectly and her little gasp when I nip the bottom one is the sound wet dreams are made of. I deepen the kiss, tongue sweeping against hers, tangling and bringing us closer together.
Her little moan has me swelling harder, straining to get to her until she shifts so she’s straddling my lap. She grinds her core down on me. Heat floods the space between us, filling it and making me feel like I can’t breathe. Like I’m never going to come up for air.
I groan into the kiss, hands leaving her hair to slide up beneath her shirt. She moans as I cup her breasts through the thin lace, thumbs brushing against the nipple piercings. Kaylie grinds into me harder, her hands trailing down my chest.
She leans back, eyes filled with lust as she reaches for the hem of her shirt and rips it over her head, tossing it to the side.
My hardened length strains against my jeans as she does a little wiggle, rolling her hips and leaning back down. I flip us over, gaze dragging down her body and taking in the perfection of it all.
“You’re beautiful,” I say, peppering kisses down her neck and chest. “Do you want to do this though? You don’t kiss on the first date, and this is far past the point of just kissing.”
“If you don’t take my jeans off right now, I’m stealing your shirt and going back home.”
I smirk and kneel between her legs, reaching for the button on her jeans. “Your wish is my command.”
All it takes is a few seconds to get the skintight jeans and lace thong down her legs and tossed somewhere else in the room.
I slide my fingers through her slick folds, throbbing before standing and shedding my own clothing. “Pill?”
She nods, glancing down at my bobbing erection. Her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip. “Clean?”
I snort and nod, stroking myself from base to tip as I look down at her. “Very. Now, lose the bra.”
Her eyes flash with mischief as she sits up and reaches for the clasp between her breasts. The material falls away, revealing the gold bars that decorate her dusky rose nipples.
I’ve died and gone to heaven.
I get back on the couch, kneeling between her legs. I’m aching to be buried inside her as I take her by the thighs and haul her closer, the head of my length pressing against her slick core.
Her hand cups the back of my neck and she drags me back down for a kiss while I push two fingers into her soaking wet core. Her inner walls flutter around my fingers, squeezing tight when I thrust deeper.
My thumb circles her clit, brushing against it hard with every thrust of my fingers. Her body quakes and she moans into the kiss.
I thrust faster and deeper, crooking my fingers. She comes apart, her orgasm leaving her shaking and gasping as I keep teasing her clit, drawing out the “please” from her for as long as possible.
It’s only once her thighs loosen around my hips that I pull back and sink my length into her, groaning at the sensation of her wrapped around me. I take it a little by little, trying to go slow, wanting to savor this for as long as possible.
Until she smirks and rises up into my lap. She sinks all the way down onto my length, her back arching and her head falling back. I wrap one arm around her waist, keeping her upright.
The other hand sinks into her hair as we move together, thrusting and rocking while the tension in my body builds.
Her fingers sink into my shoulders as she rocks, her inner walls pulsing. She arches her back more, riding me until she comes.
Kaylie is panting as she comes down from her high, rocking and taking me as deep as she can. When her nails rake down my back, I come hard, slamming into her from below.
It’s only once I’m spent that I pull out, shifting to stand up with her still in my arms.
She clings to me, lips pressing against the side of my neck. “Where are we going?”
“My room.” I head down the hall, kicking open the door. “I’m not done with you yet.”
The sun reflects off the windows across the street, shining straight into my eyes, even though it feels way too early to be awake yet. All I want to do is roll back over and shut my eyes.
Maybe curl up with Kaylie and spend the day with her before I have to go to another show tonight.
I reach out for her, searching for the soft curves of her body, but she isn’t there.
In fact, the bed is cold. The bathroom door is wide open, and so is the bedroom one. There isn’t so much as the dull hum of the espresso machine coming from the kitchen.
Not a single noise to let me know that I’m not alone in this damn penthouse.
I sit upright in bed, rubbing my eyes before looking around the room. The sheets pool around my waist as I stare at the place where she was when we went to sleep last night. It’s perfectly made, not even a trace of a head indent on the pillow.
She’s gone.