Chapter 33 Sullivan
SULLIVAN
“Did she go down okay?” Tate questions, looking up with glassy eyes from the piano stool.
She’s been sitting there ever since I took Molly to bed. Usually the faint notes of whatever she’s playing drift through to the bedroom.
Tonight there’s silence.
“She was asleep before her head hit the pillow, didn’t even have a story.”
“I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. Seeing me sick upset her.”
“She’s just tired, Tate. It’s been a long day.”
She nods, her gaze returning to the untouched keys in front of her.
“I can’t believe Brandon would do this,” she whispers.
The hopelessness in her voice is like a knife to my heart.
“It can be fixed.”
“It can’t. It’s out there now. It can’t be unheard. That song will never be mine again. It’s gone.”
Her shoulders heave and the first sob breaks free. I knew she’d been holding it together in front of Molly.
But now it’s just me.
Me and her.
“Come here.”
I lift her gently, sliding onto the stool beneath her and cradling her sideways across my lap.
“I’m sorry,” she chokes.
“Shh. Never apologize for sharing your feelings with me. I’m here for you. I’ll do whatever you need, okay?”
I thumb away her tears but more fall.
“He stole my future. I was going to send that song to record labels. Ashley helped me write the query letters. I might not have gotten anywhere, but I would have done it myself, on my terms.”
“And you still will. I promise you.”
She squeezes her eyes shut. “It’s too late.”
Plans are already forming in my mind as she opens her eyes and blinks in an attempt to clear the tears.
“Do you want to hear something silly?”
I raise my brows at her. “Am I not ‘Silly Sully’?”
She snorts, wiping at her eyes as the first hint of emotion that isn’t despair passes over her face.
“I swore you were The Masked Maestro. I even had a bet going with Ashley.”
“Really?”
“Yeah… Stupid, huh?” She glances at the piano, shaking her head softly.
“When I saw him in Grand Central Station, he played a song I’ve never heard him perform before.
It wasn’t as technical as all the classical pieces he’s known for.
But there was something about the way he played it. It was heartbreaking.”
“That’s the song you asked me to play? Unstoppable?”
She looks back at me, reaching up to brush my hair from my face.
“But you said you didn’t know it. I thought maybe you just didn’t want to tell me who you really are.”
I look into her eyes, my mouth going dry. If she knew the truth… the consequences are far too damaging to even consider.
“Then you took me in your boat to see him play and I knew it couldn’t be you. It’s stupid but I felt a connection to him after hearing him play that song. And you know I suspected Vincent, too. He’s a great pianist, but…”
“But?”
“But when I had dinner with him, it was obvious he wasn’t the same man I’d felt that connection to that night. I can’t explain it, I just knew. And I started spending time with you and Molly and…”
She looks at the ceiling, like she can’t believe what she’s about to say but that whatever it is, it means something to her, and she believes it, deep in her soul.
“I thought for sure it had to be you. The way I felt when I first heard you play, the way you are with Molly, so different to what the outside world sees. You’re a beautiful man, Sullivan.”
She gazes at me, so open and trusting. So perfect.
My throat seizes up.
“I was disappointed. That split second when I saw him on the water and realized it wasn’t you. But this…” She places her hand over my thundering heart. “This is so much more than one beautiful song. This is real. This is—”
“Living,” I breathe.
Her gaze softens. “Exactly.”
She sniffs and glances at the keys again. “It didn’t even sound like my song. They ruined it. The key was off.”
“I know. It should have been like this.”
I place my hands on the keys either side of her.
And play.
The opening chords surround us, sounding exactly the way they should have before the record label and her worthless piece of shit ex massacred them.
“How do you know that?” She clasps a hand over her mouth, her eyes filling with more tears.
“You’ve been singing it to Molly for weeks. I told you; I look. And I pay attention.”
I hold her eyes and add in the words, singing them softly. They’ve taken over my mind since I first heard them drift from her lips and I know every single one. I sing them the way they deserve… with depth. With feeling. With raw emotion.
“Whispers of the past, the future’s calling... Unleash your potential… let the world hear your sound.”
She bursts into fresh sobs, and I stop and cup her face.
“Baby,” I breathe.
Beautiful, dazzling irises gaze back at me. Tears cling to her lashes, but the sadness in her eyes clears, making way for something else. Something that has the power to bring me to my knees.
I swallow around the lump in my throat and bring my forehead to hers.
“You are more perfect than any song that’s ever been written or is yet to be written. I need you to understand that, Tate.”
The front of my shirt crumples as she fists it.
“Sullivan?” Her breath fans softly over my lips and I slide my hands from her cheeks to cradle her neck gently. Her beating pulse grounds me in a way nothing has ever been able to. I breathe in and out slowly, concentrating on its steady rhythm.
“Tell me what you need.”
“I need you,” she whispers. “I need you to kiss me all night and never stop. I need you to never let me go.”
“I don’t want to let you go,” I confess.
Her breath hitches and our eyes connect again for a fraction of a second. But it’s long enough for me to see everything. To see exactly where we’re heading together.
“Tate—”
Her mouth crashes to mine, pleading and urgent. Begging me for what she needs.
I wrap her in my arms and give it to her.
I give her everything I can.
“Bedroom,” I rasp into our kiss, before breaking it long enough to stand from the stool with her in my arms and carry her away.
The journey there takes far longer than necessary because I keep pausing to lower my mouth to hers and kiss her.
Her chest rises and falls with gentle puffs as I place her onto my bed, climbing up over her. She reaches for my shirt buttons, and as her delicate fingers undo them, I sink my face into her neck, peppering kisses over her silky skin.
The small whimper that slips from her has me moving back to kiss her, stealing it for myself.
It’s mine. She’s mine.
The trace of salt from her tears hits the tip of my tongue and I screw my face up, holding her in place by her neck and deepening our kiss until she’s writhing beneath me, desperately pushing my shirt from my shoulders.
“No more tears, Baby,” I say into another searing kiss.
“No more tears,” she pants.
“Good girl,” I breathe. “It can all be fixed. Now, all you have to think about tonight is lying back and letting me do everything, okay?”
“You want to do everything?”
I squeeze her breast, groaning as her hard nipple pokes through her shirt against the pad of my thumb.
“Everything,” I rasp. “I don’t want you to worry about a thing.”
I unbutton her shirt, sliding my hand up over the warm, soft skin above her ribs as I kiss her. Her perfect breast spills into my waiting palm as I pull her bra down.
“I’m taking control, Tate. Just relax and let me make you feel good.”
My gaze zeroes in on her puckered pink nipple before I swoop on it, sucking it past my lips.
“Oh God.” She arches up, pushing against my tongue. I pull the other side of her bra down and nip the sweet flesh where her breast is its fullest, before sucking that one past my lips too.
“So, so, good,” she whines, stroking the back of my neck as I look up at her, watching her every movement. The softening of her brows, the slackening of her jaw. The flutter of her lashes as my teeth graze her.
“I’m going to undress you,” I tell her, swirling my tongue around her nipple. “And then I’m going to bury my head between your legs until you’ve soaked my face.”
Her eyes widen as I bare my teeth, nipping her breast gently. The resulting intake of breath she makes has my dick leaking in my pants.
“Then I’m going to take my clothes off and spend the night inside you, until the only thing you feel is pleasure, okay?”
She nods.
My voice drops to a low husk. “I’m going to take care of you, Baby.”
She needs this. She needs to be worshipped, and to know that despite today’s blow, it isn’t all gone. She still has a future. She can still follow her dreams.
I’ll make sure she does.
I pull her up to a sitting position. She watches me, entranced as I take my time removing her shirt, kissing each shoulder as it’s bared to me.
“So beautiful,” I whisper.
I kiss every damn inch of skin that’s revealed as I slowly rid her of everything, until she’s naked with only a blush staining her cheeks as she looks at me in anticipation.
“Now lie back.”
I wait for her to get comfortable, then sink to the mattress between her thighs, leisurely sliding my arms beneath them until they rest over my biceps.
“Give me your hands.”
Tate holds my eyes, sliding her hands into my waiting ones. I wrap her fingers between each of mine and rest them against her lower stomach.
“Now, pay attention,” I rasp, before dipping to press a lingering kiss between her thighs.
She jolts, her breath catching.
“You and me,” I declare, pressing another kiss to her and looking up into her eyes. “Tell me.”
“Me and you,” she whispers, her words turning into a moan as I lick her in one long, languid stroke.
“That’s right. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Sullivan,” she whimpers.
I sink into her, groaning as I take my time eating her out until her flesh quivers against my tongue. I told her I was going to take care of her. But as her first orgasm spills into my mouth and she shudders against me, there’s no doubt in my mind that I need this just as much as she does.
“Fuck,” I groan, sliding two fingers inside her and making her come again before I ease up.
She’s breathless and flushed as I stand and remove my clothes.
“Sullivan,” she whispers, reaching for me as I climb onto the bed, settling my hips between her thighs.
“What is it, Baby?” I murmur, kissing her pouty lower lip.
My dick slides against her, getting coated in a mix of her arousal and my saliva. I hook one of her legs behind the knee and lift it, wrapping it over my hip.
Her lids hood, her eyes glazed over in a post-orgasmic haze. She’s exactly how I want her to be. Relaxed. Sated. Not thinking about anything else except how good it feels to let me take care of her.
I push forward, sliding into her slowly.
She whimpers against my mouth and stretches around me, gripping me in a way that makes my eyes roll back in ecstasy.
“You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to do anything. I’ve got you,” I tell her, kissing her softly.
I pull back a little, then push forward again, sinking deep inside her.
She trembles around me, each tiny flutter like a goddamn signal to my cock to take it easy, or I’ll be done in a matter of seconds.
“Sullivan,” she moans, sinking her hands into my hair.
We pause, foreheads pressed together, eyes held in weighted meaning, lips hovering over one another, the sound of our soft breaths passing between us.
She doesn’t need to say anything. Neither of us do.
This time, our silence speaks volumes, louder than any words, any notes played on a piano, any words sang.
“I know, Baby,” I whisper, my voice coming out hoarse as I slide a thumb over her jaw. “I feel it too.”
Her breath catches and my heart jackknifes as I realize the magnitude of my confession. The impact it could have for Molly and me.
I screw my face up and kiss her again before she can say anything. Keeping us in this moment. A moment where I can allude to the way I feel without having to consider the ramifications.
A moment where it’s just me and her. And my daughter sleeping soundly in another room.
A moment that’s perfect, even if it is fleeting.
I kiss Tate deeply, savoring her taste as I move inside her.
In this moment, my body is free to dream alongside hers.
Tonight, I’m sleeping without nightmares.