Chapter Nineteen #3
We opt to hang out at home. This beautiful area to share, rather than a dingy hotel room, is the luxury I want to bathe in. So rather than do anything, we take a long, hot bath together, then get into bed.
Colt has a large-screen television, and I do mean large, on the wall, so we order in and binge-watch until we fall asleep.
***
Waking up on Saturday morning, I rolled over to find Colt gazing at me, his expression serene. After the whirlwind of recent events, we decided to dedicate the weekend to pure relaxation.
Hux, however, had different plans.
A constant stream of visitors turned the bathroom into a bustling hub, occasionally testing our patience.
Despite the commotion, Colt and I cocooned ourselves in our own world, savoring the tranquility of our shared space.
But now, with Monday’s arrival, it’s time to return to our routines.
Colt and the guys are heading into the studio to do some recording, and I’m thrilled because Colt wants me to come along and watch.
I eagerly agree, and we soon arrive at the legendary Abbey Road Studios.
A rush of excitement washes over me—while the guys have recorded here before, making it familiar to them, it’s an entirely new experience for me.
As we cross the iconic zebra crossing made famous by The Beatles’ “Abbey Road” album cover, Colt takes my hand and leads the way into the historic white building. Inside, he confidently navigates the corridors, clearly familiar with the layout.
We enter a spacious studio where everyone is already gathered, including Anna, much to my relief—I won’t have to sit alone. The room is larger than I imagined, with a vocal booth equipped with a microphone—likely for Colt—and various instruments scattered around.
The atmosphere is charged with creative energy. This is so freaking cool!
“Hey, baby, will you be okay in the mixing room while we rehearse?” Colt asks as we walk over, joining everyone else.
“Yeah, no worries. I’ll go wherever you need me to be.”
“I want to be able to see you at all times. I need to sing to you,” he whispers in my ear, then gently kisses my neck.
Those little gestures make my knees weak for him every single time, and I can’t stop the swooning that follows, nor the giant smirk on my face.
“Okay, guys, now that we’re all here, we want to lay this track today. We have plenty of time, so we’re going to get it right. It could be bigger than “Rapture,” so let’s put in one hundred percent and make this the biggest-selling song of all time, yeah?” Rob states.
“Okay, everyone, those who don’t need to be here, get the fuck out! Let’s get this party started,” Rob says as Colt kisses my forehead goodbye.
“Good luck,” I whisper.
He winks, then Anna and I walk into the other room, where a bunch of people are sitting behind a giant window looking into the studio, with mixing boards and other equipment in front of them. I have no idea what it is, but it all seems damn technical.
“Ladies, you can take a seat over there,” some guy states when we walk in.
We head over to the two stools.
“This is so cool,” I say out loud, this time to Anna.
“Yeah, even though I’ve done this before, it still makes me nervous. I’ve no idea why, though?”
“Interesting. Have you heard the song in full yet?”
“Nah, I’ve only heard them play it acoustically, haven’t heard it all put together.”
“Yeah, me either. I can’t wait—”
“Okay, quiet in the studio, please,” some guy calls out, forcing me to stop mid-sentence.
We focus through the window, and a guy hands us each a set of headphones.
After placing them over my head, I can hear the guys talking in the studio.
It’s difficult for me to keep up as so much is happening.
They are talking about ‘crescendos’ and other musical jargon, which I don’t understand, while Colt takes his position in the booth.
My eyes are locked on him, tracking his every movement, trying to absorb the entire process.
Dingo sits behind the massive drum set while Johnny and Hux pick up their guitars. Now, I assume they’re all standing around, waiting for some cue.
It doesn’t take long for Colt to start searching the room for me, his eyes covering every inch of the space.
To save him time, I wave, gaining his attention.
When he spots me, he smiles so wide I’m sure his cheeks are hurting.
From the corner of my eye, I see Anna smirking, but I stay focused on Colt and mouth, I love you.
He nods, a warm smile beaming on his face.
Everything goes silent, and the guy on the equipment in front of us puts his thumbs up.
Dingo starts playing an intense drumbeat, and then Johnny comes in, adding to the already deep bass line.
I smile instantly, and Anna grabs my hand in excitement.
Hux’s guitar follows, and then Colt begins singing in his deep rock and roll timbre.
The song is slow but has a steady rhythm, which makes you want to move your body without even realizing it.
I’m watching Colt singing, his eyes entirely focused on me while he holds his headphones with one hand and the microphone with the other. This man is pure sex, standing there singing to me and swaying to the lyrics he wrote especially for me.
I feel throbbing between my legs and cross them, trying to take the delightful ache away.
But watching Colt sing to me like he’s picturing me naked makes me want to do very naughty things to him right now.
I can’t get the image of him entering me slowly out of my head while he makes love to me with his eyes.
This is intense.
Almost passionate.
And my breathing escalates as he sings the chorus.
I’ve heard the song before, but it’s like I’m only hearing it clearly for the first time, and I start to feel emotional.
He was so scared that we’d be over that night in the hotel, and it’s only now that I know he loved me even then.
Sniffing as my eyes fill with tears, I wipe my wet cheeks with the back of my hand, and Colt glances at me in the drum solo of the song.
How can I go from ragingly horny one second to feeling such overwhelming love that makes me bawl my eyes out the next?
It’s magic, pure musical magic, and I know that this song—a song about me—will be massive for Colt and the guys, and I’ve never felt prouder of anyone in my life.
The song slowly comes to an end, and as soon as they stop recording, I jump up and cheer, immediately embarrassing myself.
Of course, everyone laughs.
Colt chuckles, watching me while removing his headphones.
“I’ll be back in a minute, guys. Dee, can I talk to you outside for a sec?” Colt asks into the microphone so I can hear him. I raise an eyebrow as I remove my headphones, place them on my stool, and walk toward the door.
When he opens the door, he takes my hand, pulls me out of the studio, and rushes with me down the corridor, and I can’t help but giggle at Colt’s playfulness.
Suddenly, Colt turns and pushes me against the wall, his lips crushing mine in a scorching kiss as his body grinds into me.
The familiar wave of pure desire he builds in me floods back as I open my mouth, and our tongues find a rhythm sliding together.
Colt fists a hand into my hair, holding me firm while his other hand caresses my breast, then makes its way down my side and wraps it around my thigh. He pulls my leg up, hitching it around his ass, grinding his hard cock between my legs.
The welcomed contact causes my breath to hitch, and I pull back, moaning when he bites my bottom lip. Consumed with need, my hands claw at his back, pulling him into me as close as I can possibly get.
I don’t care where we are.
I want him.
I will have him.
His tongue finds mine again, kissing me forcefully while grinding his thick cock over my pulsing clit.
“Colt, stop dry-humping Dee and get back in here,” Dingo calls out from down the hall.
We part lips, breathless, and I spin toward the studio door to Dingo and Johnny staring at us with giant smirks.
Colt drops my leg, and I steady myself against him, burying my face into his chest. He chuckles and pulls my chin up to look at him, pressing his lips softly to mine once more before taking my hand in his and walking us back into the studio to an applauding Dingo and Johnny.
My phone rings, and when I glance down at the screen, it’s Daddy. I know I have to take the call, so I walk out of the room and into the hallway, sliding answer as I go.
“I read you’re back and didn’t have the decency to call me? I expect you here for a luncheon…”
The call drones on, my agreement to lunch barely registering before I end the call.
With a heavy breath, I pocket my phone, a knot tightening in my stomach.
A meal with them is never just a meal.
What fresh hell awaits me this time?
Fuck my life!