Chapter 45
FORTY-FIVE
Devon
Over an hour later, after the opener had finished their set, the entire crowd was thrumming with excitement and anticipation.
But it was the excitement of the woman next to me that was palpable and contagious. We were both seated at the high-top table. My elbows were braced on the edge while I watched Blakely. She was intently eyeing the stage, not wanting to miss a minute of her favorite band.
Gripping the bottom of her chair, I dragged it closer to mine. Her eyes slowly swung from the stage to me, with a small, secretive smile on her lips. Leaning forward, my nose ran up the side of her neck, and even over the music they pumped through the speakers between bands, I heard her little sigh of contentment. I felt her body relax, and her hand dropped to my thigh. She squeezed high on my leg, too close to my cock for my body not to respond.
But who the fuck was I kidding? Her eyes on me were already enough to set me off.
“God, I want to kiss you so bad.”
“Then kiss me.”
I shook my head and ghosted my lips over hers before taking her cherry-tinged lower lip between my teeth. “Not these lips, sweetheart.”
Her breath against my mouth was sharp as I trailed a hot path up the inside of her thigh. A shot of possessive need swept through me when her legs parted ever so slightly even in such a public place. Her nails dug into my leg, and I returned the favor by gripping her thigh and brushing my thumb over her hot, sweet cunt.
I swear I was fucking salivating at the thought of getting between her legs. And if it weren’t for the crowd roaring around us and the dimming lights, I wouldn’t have let go so easily.
Blakely pressed one more kiss to my lips and then turned to the stage. She scooted to the edge of her chair but didn’t stay there for long. The second the first guitar chord reverberated through the air, she was out of her seat and standing at the railing.
She turned her infectious smile on me and pointed to the band just below us like she couldn’t believe it was real. Every part of my heart that broke when she left mended each time she laughed or smiled. With each kiss and moment we spent together, the heartbreak felt farther and farther away.
Her head started banging the moment the drums picked up, and when the lead singer screamed out the opening notes, Blakely was jumping with the beat. I watched her for the opening song and the one after it.
I could have watched her forever. She was enthralled by the music, rolling her hips and throwing her hands in the air. Her curly black hair bounced around her. She knew every word and belted out the lyrics.
The woman who I’d found on her closet floor only a week earlier was long gone, and that memory made me move. I pushed back my chair and stepped around the table. The third song was a little slower, and I took the opportunity to cage her in between my chest and the railing. My hands clasped the metal, and she leaned back into me.
The most genuine, unbothered smile graced her lips, and I had to taste it.
Fucking cherries. The taste itself—the thought of the taste—made my cock hard.
“They’re so good live,” she said, and I nodded. “I was hoping they would be, but you never know.”
“They’re impressive so far.”
Through the song, she swayed back and forth in my arms, both of us lost to the haunting melody. Dark green and purple lights illuminated the stage and the crowd in a strobing effect that only added to the eeriness.
When it was over, Blakely clapped and cheered. She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Did you look up the setlist? Do you know what’s next?”
I shook my head and pulled out my phone from my back pocket. But immediately, we both recognized the chorus of voices on the backing track. It was a song Blake and I played on repeat when it came out a few years ago. It had been one of our favorites ever since, but you wouldn’t know that by her reaction.
My smile faltered with the torment that lit her eyes. “Blake—” I started, but she waved me off.
“This song just reminds me of you,” she said simply. “I listened to it a lot over the past two years. It feels unreal to be listening to it with you now.”
She turned without another word but kept hold of my hand as she sang along. Faintly, I could hear her voice over the band, and the lyrics had a whole new meaning, like I was hearing them clearly for the first time. Like the pleas for someone to save you from yourself had fallen on deaf ears before.
And suddenly the music was just background noise to the story that replayed in my head. Blakely recounting her drive to me and explaining the significance of her tattoo. I didn’t realize what I was doing until it was happening. I brushed her hair out of the way and pressed my thumb to the small sliver of a hilt that was peeking out from above her top. She shivered as I leaned forward and kissed the same spot.
Every warrior needed a sword.
I’d seen her massaging the same spot more than once, and the longer my lips, my fingers, and my eyes lingered over it, the more it made sense why: it was a reminder of what was tattooed there and what it stood for. It was a blade always ready for battle, and it had weathered enough wars to know that nothing could break it.
Her nails brushed against my fingers as the song came to a close. All signs of torment or pain had disappeared from her features, but I couldn’t discern exactly what had replaced them.
The next words out of her mouth made me realize why.
Between the second when the music stopped and before the crowd erupted, she said in one quick breath, “I…I think I might be in love with you.”
The number of emotions I felt in a split second were overwhelming. I almost asked her to say it again, but I knew I hadn’t misheard. But it was still hard to believe.
And the only thing I could think was, thank God.
Her jaw was slack, and her eyes were wide like she couldn’t believe what she’d just said.
One of my hands slipped around her waist while the other clasped the side of her neck. She didn’t fight me when I tilted her head higher and found her confident, gray eyes.
The crowd cheered, but it was only us. And in a voice I hoped belied my own confidence, I admitted, “I know I’m in love with you, Blake.”
Her shoulders dropped, and a slow smile crept across her face. “Thank goodness, otherwise, I might have died from embarrassment.”
“How could I not love you?” I asked with a swift yet consuming kiss to her lips. I wanted to say more, but hearing each other was about to become difficult. And I really wanted her to enjoy the show.
I tried to pull away, to keep the kiss chaste and unassuming, but Blakely’s hands fisted the hair at the back of my head, and I couldn’t resist the scrape of her nails against my scalp. The vibration of her moans teased against my lips, and although I couldn’t hear the sound with the pounding bass, feeling it was almost as good.
We were putting on a show for everyone around, but that was the furthest thing from my mind. My hands slipped around her waist, and I palmed her leather-wrapped ass. Her eager hips ground against my rapidly-growing cock that was pressing impossibly hard to the seam of my jeans.
Desire like I’d never felt before consumed me. Desire for the woman I loved. Fuck , that felt good to think without cringing or worrying that the words might slip at the absolute worst time. And knowing that she felt the same made me press her even closer.
I swore I could feel the love dripping from her lips and tongue. Both of us were panting and struggling to catch our breath as we pulled away. My nose grazed hers, and she kissed the side of my mouth softly before meeting my eyes.
“There are so many other things I want to tell you,” she said loudly over the music. “But I don’t think this is the right place to do that.”
I nodded and brushed a kiss to her forehead before spinning her around. I braced my hands on her hips and kissed her neck. “We have all the time in the world,” I whispered into her ear.