Chapter 22
Brayden
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Isabelle’s voice. She was in the other room, and it sounded like she was ordering the whole breakfast menu.
After finishing the conversation, she peeked inside the room. She was fresh-faced and her hair was damp. She’d showered and I hadn’t heard her? I’d really been out of it.
“Oh good, you’re up. I’ve wanted to kiss and touch you all morning.”
“Why didn’t you do it?”
“Ummm… my conscience? Unlike you, Mr. Clarke, I don’t want to hijack people’s sleep with sexy adventures.”
She jumped in the bed, smiling widely. The red dress she was wearing bunched up, revealing more of her thighs.
“For the record, I don’t mind. And you don’t either. You just like giving me shit.”
Her smile turned into a grin. “Possibly. But you seemed so tired that I didn’t have it in me to wake you up.”
“You’re in a good mood.”
“What are you talking about? I’m always a ray of sunshine.”
“Yes, but today you’re extra cheerful. Why?”
“I don’t know.” She twirled a strand of wet hair between her fingers, glancing at me playfully. “Might be because I discovered they serve fifteen types of breakfast.”
I cocked a brow, brushing my thumb over her lips. “Liar. I think it’s got to do with those three orgasms you had last night.”
Her grin became even wider as she stretched on the bed, curling her toes.
“You know what? You could be right. Want to test that theory? See if three more make me even happier? I’m going to guess that the answer is yes, but you know me, I’m a scientist. I don’t like educated guesses. I like facts and testing theories.”
I scooted closer to her, resting on one elbow. “Why did I insist you bring clothes here? Worst idea I’ve had.”
She batted her eyelashes, moving her hands from her waist down to her thighs.
“You don’t like it?”
The dress was sleeveless and dipped in a V in the front.
“I do, but I’d prefer a towel or nothing at all.”
“It’s just a dress,” she said seriously. “I’m not even wearing underwear. Thought I’d make things easy for you.”
I brushed my hand on her inner thigh, inching higher.
“You don’t believe me?” she asked.
“I like to double-check things for myself.” I tried to keep my voice serious, but we were both fighting laughter.
“Oh yes, please, be very thorough.”
I kissed her neck, moving my hand until I reached mid-thigh, and?—
The doorbell rang.
I groaned, pushing myself up on an elbow. Isabelle pouted, climbing from the bed and smoothing her dress.
She turned to me, pointing a finger. “Stay there. Covers all the way to your chin.”
I cocked a brow. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want anyone to see all those sexy muscles.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You can close the door, you know.”
“Oh, I will. But just to be on the safe side.”
With a wink, she walked out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
I got up and went into the bathroom, brushing my teeth and showering quickly.
When I came out, I realized room service still hadn’t left.
I dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, then checked my phone.
To my surprise, I didn’t have any messages.
Sasha and the rest of the team were probably still asleep, but not for long.
We still had to confirm the itinerary and schedule for the first concert.
I couldn’t believe the tour was starting in three weeks.
Isabelle opened the door to the bedroom. “Breakfast is ready. And so am I.” She shimmied her hips, walking back to the living room.
I caught up with her at the dining table. While she poured coffee into two cups, I buried my face in her hair. She smelled delicious, like honey and flowers.
“You drive me crazy all the time. I don’t know how you do it,” I confessed. “Before meeting you, music was the only thing that completely captivated me.”
She shimmied her ass some more, straight against my cock. I exhaled sharply.
“What are you doing?”
“A happy dance.”
“Against my cock?”
She shrugged. “It’s in my way.”
I tightened my grip on her hips, keeping her in place.
“What’s wrong, Mr. Clarke? You’re afraid you won’t be able to resist me?”
“I know I won’t.”
She dropped her head back on my shoulder, and I caught her smile. “You sure know how to make me feel good about myself.”
Her body went soft, and I took that as a sign that she was done tempting me. I released my hold on her hips. Big mistake. She turned around, putting her arms on my chest—still shimmying against me.
“Isabelle!”
“What? Still continuing that happy dance.”
I gripped her hips again, looking her straight in the eyes. “Let’s have breakfast first. Then I’ll have you.”
She shuddered in my arms but nodded. “I like how you think. We do need energy, after all.”
Laughing, I pulled out a chair for her. She sat down, and I sat next to her.
Isabelle had ordered half the menu, it seemed, but I wasn’t complaining. I was starving.
“My God, the hummus is good,” Isabelle said, munching on her bread.
“Everything’s good. I can’t believe they have pita bread.”
She grinned. “They don’t. I asked them to buy it because you like it so much. I know last night took a toll on you—party-hater and all that—so I wanted to pamper you a bit today.”
That caught me off guard. I couldn’t believe she was paying attention to all these details.
She rose from her chair, leaning over the table to where the olive spread was. I waited until she smeared some on her bread before pulling her in my lap.
She yelped, dropping her slice of bread on the plate with cheese.
“I love you so damn much,” I said into her neck.
She giggled, turning to look at me. “I love you too, but did you have to pull me in your lap right now?”
“Yes. It was of utmost importance,” I said seriously. “As is this.” I fondled her ass. “Stay here while we finish breakfast.”
“Hmm… somehow I don’t think we’ll eat too much.”
“Yes we will,” I insisted.
It wasn’t the easiest thing, especially since Isabelle kept fidgeting, testing my limits.
My phone started beeping with incoming messages as we finished. Sasha was up.
“Is something wrong?” Isabelle asked while I checked my phone for the seventh time in as many minutes. She was on her second cup of coffee.
“No, Sasha is finalizing the itinerary. Knowing her, she’ll bombard us with info and questions throughout the day.”
“She works on Saturdays?”
“Only when we’re touring. It’s an insane period.”
“I can see that. You’re already tense.” She pointed to my shoulders. “Want me to apply the special Isabelle massage to help relieve it? I’m told it’s very effective.”
“By whom?” I gripped her right thigh possessively.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear that. Sounded like a groan.” Setting down her cup of coffee, she pressed her thumb on my chin. I knew she was teasing me, but the idea of her touching anyone else was making my insides clench.
“Who told you it’s effective?”
“Well, I think Josie can vouch. Dylan too. Ian doesn’t like it, says I’m using it as an opportunity to torture him.
Which I do, but shhh, don’t tell him that.
” Bringing her mouth to my ear, she whispered, “But I can make it extra special for you. Make you forget all about the tour for now, while you’re still mine. ”
Fuck. I hadn’t even started the tour and I already missed Isabelle.
I brought a hand to the back of her head, tilting it back so we had eye contact. I needed to ask her this.
“Would you like to come with me on the tour?”
She jerked her head back, blinking fast. “Wow.”
“I don’t want us to be separated for so long. Could you move your clients exclusively online for a while? Say three weeks? And then we’ll see if you like it.”
The first leg of the tour was three weeks, with a break of two weeks. Then we’d be gone for another three weeks, followed by another few weeks off. It went on like that for a year.
“I have to think about it.” Her whole body was on edge. Her eyes were searching mine. “I never expected you to ask that.”
“Why not? I love you. You’re important to me.”
“Yes, but you always say tours are just 100 percent work and you don’t want anything distracting your focus.”
I frowned, remembering the day I told her that, when we’d been bowling.
“You’re part of my life, Isabelle, not a distraction.” I touched her cheek, bringing her closer to me, wanting to be as connected as possible to her.
“Ha! You think I won’t be a distraction? Think about it, because once I’m there, you can’t get rid of me.”
“That’s a yes to the tour?”
“I have to talk to my clients… but hell yes. I think they’ll be okay with moving to online sessions for three weeks.” She shifted in my lap until she was straddling me, legs dangling on either side.
I cocked a brow questioningly. She shrugged one shoulder.
“If you’re going to fondle me, you might as well do it properly.”
Laughing, I cupped her ass, rising from the chair. She shrieked, clinging to my shoulders.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“For the kind of fondling I want, I need a bed.”
“Ooooh, okay. Then I can get started on that massage too. Think we’ll have time for that on the tour?”
“I’ll do my best.”
I carried her to the bed, sprawling her on the mattress before claiming her mouth. I felt my whole body relax. The tension that had filled me that morning just melted away. She was going with me. I couldn’t believe how much had changed in my life since I met her—how much I’d changed.
She was right about the tours, and about how fiercely I guarded my time during those months, not allowing for any distractions, or even wanting any, to be honest. The downtime between performances had always been nothing more than a necessary break to recover.
But now I was looking forward to every moment of downtime.
I knew exactly what I was going to do with them.
Taking Isabelle with me on the tour might be reckless.
She might find the experience too much to handle, but I didn’t want to hide any part of my life.
If she was going to be with me long term, she needed to see it all—the good and the bad.
I used to be happiest when I played music, but that had changed. Now I was happiest when I was with Isabelle. And I wanted her to know that beyond any doubt.