23. Leo
Vander’s unexpected arrival scrambled my brain but was not something I could process, not when Mari was so close and looking at me like that. She’d been here. She’d protected me.
Before that, I’d been pulsing with adrenaline from playing. To know she’d been watching...and liking it made me feel insane, primal pride.
Mari brought me back to the present. She always did. Because when I was with her, there was no other time or place I wanted to be.
I preened at being able to impress her.
I wanted to make Mari wet for me.
Maybe it was vain or crass, but I woke every morning as hard as a rock since our kiss all those weeks ago at the Rage Room, and I wanted to see her come undone.
I went back and adjusted the set, aware of her tracking my every move. I thought about what I told Cath—if I was playing to please her, it wouldn’t work. I had to play for the sake of the music.
I closed my eyes and played my favorite song from The Burnouts. I knew it completely, listening to the recording in my head. It didn’t make me sad like I thought it might. It felt right. It reminded me of the parts of playing with The Burnouts that I missed. I had a habit of only remembering the hardest parts of things. This was a good reminder of how much the music had meant to me.
I was sweating before long. The thin tee was creating too much uncomfortable friction on my skin. Mari watched me when I opened my eyes again to pull off my shirt. Her mouth was softly parted, her cheeks flushed. She squirmed in her seat, and I wondered if she knew what she was doing to me. I wondered if she knew how much she gave away. I wasn’t one for random hookups on the road, but I’d been thrown enough looks from audience members biting their lips and rocking their hips to know what they were thinking.
Mari had that look now. She pulled her hair off her neck.
I played another song and only stopped when my hands began to throb. It had been too long, and my muscles may remember every beat, but the skin of my hands had grown thin again.
When I set the sticks down, my chest rose and collapsed like I’d just been on stage. I held up my palms. “I need to ease back in.”
She frowned and disappeared into the bathroom. When she came back, determination set her shoulders. That was a look I knew all too well.
In a few strides, she came around the set to stand in front of me. I looked up at her and swallowed. My legs spread as I turned, and she came to stand between them without hesitation.
What was happening? I thought I could handle her looks, and maybe if it stopped there, I would have survived. I would not survive her physical attention.
She reached for my hands, and I lifted them to hers.
“You’re incredible,” she said.
I swallowed as I stared up at her. She gently examined my hands as though they had some secret magic she could discover if only she looked hard enough.
“Looks painful,” she said. She pressed the damp washcloth to the fresh calluses forming over the decades-old ones.
“Nothing I haven’t experienced before.”
With smooth, careful ministrations, she cleansed me with the cool water and checked for injuries. My chest rose and fell as she cared for me. Whatever I had done in life to deserve this, please let me do it all the time. After she’d finished cleansing my hands, she gently set the washcloth aside. She gently lifted my fingers and brought my right palm up to place a kiss at the center, then did the same to my left. A breath whooshed out of me. She kissed each pad of my fingers. Hot desire rushed all over my body. I swallowed and tried to wrangle in my thoughts and racing heart.
“These fingers. So strong but soft,” she said, still examining each one in turn.
“Can’t hold on too tight. Have to let things flow as they need to,” I said. Just as with the music, so with her.
“So . . . proficient. So good at what they do,” she whispered.
“Is this really happening? Am I dreaming?” She grinned at my question.
She released my hands, and I reverently dropped them to her hips, tentatively at first, to see if she’d stop me. She stepped closer, and the warm scent of her flared my nostrils. Her hands went to my hair and pushed it off my face. If she was bothered by my sweat, she showed no signs of it. If anything, quite the opposite.
“Funny you should say that because I have dreamed about your fingers,” she admitted softly, and heat bloomed on her cheeks. “Fantasized,” she added. It was enough to make a man feel like a god. My hands on her hips tightened, digging into the soft flesh.
“You have?” My voice broke as I asked.
She nodded, releasing me. “Few things are sexier than a man who’s really good with his hands.”
My chest felt like it was collapsing with every breath. I wasn’t sure what was happening right now, but it couldn’t go on if she didn’t mean it.
“Mari. I-I’m too worked up right now. The adrenaline—I don’t have the—I can’t be strong enough for both of us,” I admitted.
She cupped my chin and lifted it until I met her gaze. “Good. You’ve been strong long enough,” she said.
“I love when you look at me like that,” I said.
“You’re beautiful when you play,” she countered.
“I make dumb faces. I always feel awkward.”
“You make focused faces. Focus is sexy. It makes me wonder about what other expressions you make when concentrating.”
I groaned. God, she was really just putting it all out there. Mari was never one to mince words. My head fell to her chest. I panted in and out, watching my exhalations harden her nipples through the fabric of her shirt. “I would be genuinely happy to show you.”
I felt her soft laugh under my cheek. “Okay,” she said on an exhale.
“Hmm?” My mouth brushed along her collarbone, inhaling her perfect scent. I was sweaty and couldn’t smell fresh, but she didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she was borderline feral as she ran her hands over me.
She pulled back to look at me in exactly the right way—pupils blown, mouth parted, and a thousand dirty thoughts passing through her mind. I would make all her darkest dreams come true. “Show me everything,” she demanded.
I growled. Quickly, I stood, swooping her up with me. She wrapped her long legs around my waist and her arms around my shoulders until I pressed her against the far wall tucked away in the only corner not lined with thick, soundproofing insulation. Desire took over. I wasn’t interested in anything but making her share more of these delicious confessions.
“Remember when you said that I should just feel what I feel and stop trying to push everything down, stop trying to control it?” she asked.
I nodded, watching closely as she licked her lips.
My mouth fell to her, licking or kissing or sucking any bit of exposed skin.
She closed her eyes, head falling back. “I think you’re right.”
“Good.” I kissed my way up her neck. I was rougher than I meant, and my short beard left the skin flushed where it rubbed against her.
“You’re very wise. I’ve started to take that to heart.”
“What do you feel right now?” I asked, heart hammering with hope.
“Like I might die if I don’t touch you. Not to be dramatic.”
I chuckled as I squeezed her hips. “I’ve already died and gone to heaven. Not to be dramatic,” I mirrored. I let her feel she wasn’t alone in these feelings of madness. She groaned as my length pressed firmly into her. “And will you let me touch you too?”
She whimpered.
“Say it,” I demanded.
Her knees fell together, and I pressed my thigh between hers to balance her. “I want it all.”
“Will you let me make you feel good?” I asked, my voice rough.
“Yes,” she said.
I gathered her long hair and collected it to lift it off the warm skin of her back. I inhaled her sweet, perfect scent at the junction of her neck and shoulder. Something had changed in her. She said she was ready to give in to this tension between us, but it didn’t mean I would accept her pushing me away the second this frenzy burned out.
“And after?” I asked, halting in my caresses and kisses.
She turned her head to meet my gaze. I blatantly studied how she licked her lips, memorizing every second.
“After?” I repeated. “I can’t go back, Mari,” I said.
“After...we will carry on until it doesn’t work anymore.” She swallowed with nerves.
It was just like the driving schedule. She gave herself to me in careful pieces. This was what I wanted. This was what I got.
“Until it doesn’t work anymore,” I repeated. I could play it cool. I could make her feel good. Part of me wanted it written down. It being the promise of us. If only I could have a sort of legally binding government document. Maybe with other people to witness us sign it. Maybe with gold bands involved and a party of all our closest friends and family. But one thing at a time. “I like that plan.”
I dropped my head and tasted her, kissed her softly until she opened her mouth to me. I explored her tongue with my own, savoring the ecstasy of her taste. My hand reached for her, pushing up her shirt to get to her soft skin. I smoothed every inch of her side, and I spanned her middle, thumb grazing the bottom of her breasts as my pinky caught on the snap of her jeans. But the angle wasn’t working like this. I needed more. I kissed her deeply. Pure, hot desire from my mouth to hers.
“I want to make you feel good,” I said.
“Yes. Please, Leo.”
My head dropped as I took a moment to collect myself. I felt an animalistic force trying to take over. I breathed in and out as she peppered my face and jaw and neck with kisses. Her hand went to the button of my jeans when I remembered what we were doing here.
“Wait,” I said, gently grabbing her hand.
She whined. “No more waiting. I feel like I’m going to implode.”
I chuckled. “Trust me, I know.” I took her and gently turned her around to face the wall.
She did as I directed, shooting a curious but heavy-lidded glance over her shoulder. She had complimented my hands, and I was about to show her how right she was.
She gripped the wall for stability when I gently pushed her legs wider. I studied how beautiful she looked, waiting for me. My hands ran down her arms to her shoulders, back, and lower to her ass. Her legs trembled when I got to the top of her thighs.
I wished I could take off these damn jeans and lick her there, but that would have to be another time. Instead, I removed the space between us, pressing myself close to her back.
“Drummers are good at keeping several times at once,” I said.
I lowered my head, gently pushing her hair off her shoulder to nuzzle the junction there. She exhaled softly.
My right hand smoothed over her stomach, slowly grazing her, feeling what areas elicited goose bumps. My left hand grasped her breast and toyed with her nipple at a slow, luxurious pace. “Four-four time.”
Her head fell back onto my shoulder. “Leo,” she gasped.
She turned her head, and our mouths clashed again. Keeping the beat of my left hand, the rhythm of my tongue exploring her mouth, my right hand went to the seam of her jeans. I traced the area softly with curious fingers, dragging just hard enough so she felt the pressure through the fabric. Heat emanated from her core, and she shivered.
“Three-fourths.”
Her back arched, and she squirmed for me. I used one leg—another tempo—to lift her thigh onto mine. My other leg flexed, holding her wide and ready to be teased.
I pressed the heel of my palm more firmly against her core. She ground back, but it wasn’t enough. I ground my hips, rock hard now against her ass.
“Six-eight.”
“More. Please.” She gasped.
I flicked open the snap of her jeans, the other hand now shoving her bra up to cup both breasts. My mouth tangled back with hers. Every part of my body was attuned to play the complicated melody of her pleasure.
I deftly pulled the jeans down over her gorgeous ass to give me more access. I leaned back far enough just to quickly examine my handiwork. She curled her fists against the wall, heels lifted with her greedy gasps. Her ass angled out, calves flexed, jeans half down, bra and shirt shoved up, she was writhing and ready for me. I’d never seen anything hotter in my life. I wanted to fall to my knees and worship her.
She looked over her shoulder, plump lips and chest heaving. “Leo, please.”
I held her from behind, reassuring her, touching her everywhere. She dropped her forehead to her forearm as I found her center. I sucked in a breath at how hot, swollen, and wet she was for me. I used her desire to coat my fingers and tease her. I spread her and explored her. I pushed and retreated. She was wild and gasping. Every part of my body, set to a different beat, brought her closer to the edge. One of her arms came back to wrap around my head, and I watched her face closely. Studying how every different action of my fingers affected her. My finger found a spot just inside her that had her scream. My palm pressed against her clit as I rubbed the spot, her legs threatening to give out.
She climbed higher and higher but still held back. She was stopping herself from falling into her pleasure. Taking more and more air in without the relief of the exhale.
“Let it happen, Mari,” I coaxed, my lips gasping against hers.
I felt tight as a wire, every single part of my body tense to deliver her pleasure.
“I don’t know?—”
“You can. Let it happen.”
She was still holding on too tight, still trying to maintain control. I kissed her deeply as she held me. I tugged at her nipple at the same time I inserted another finger to tease that spot deep inside her, alternating between the taps and press of my palm. I was sweating and all coiled tense muscles, afraid to change any pattern that might keep her from her release.
She broke the kiss to throw her head back and call out. She was absolutely breathtaking as she freed herself to pleasure. Victory flooded me as she clenched and then pulsed against my fingers.
I relaxed my hand, careful to gently remove myself before it started to hurt. I kissed her flamed cheeks and whispered encouragement as her mind returned to her trembling body. While she was still blissed out, I returned her clothes to normal, discreetly wiping my fingers on the now conveniently located washcloth.
I scooped her up and brought her to the couch, boneless and mumbling.
“Was this the Smoky Mountain magic they refer to?” she asked after I set her back. She was beautiful and flushed and sated. Understanding came over me like a cool breeze. Not overwhelming or all at once, but a sort of quiet reassurance and peace of mind.
I loved this woman.
There was no remaining doubt. Giving her what she needed was all that mattered. I might never feel worthy of her, but I would damn well keep trying.
“No. That was all me.”
“Drummers,” she teased and rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I’ll be able to look Devlin in the eyes ever again.”
“What happens in the studio, stays in the studio,” I said.