14. Deacon
Ibegan writing songs when I was twelve and couldn’t get a beat or a verse out of my head. Often, I found inspiration in a story, a place, or a feeling, before bringing it all to life with a cadence and rhyming words. The creative process was different for everyone, but mine typically required that I have solitude. I needed to clear my mind of any interference or interruption and hyperfocus on my creative process.
Yet this morning I’d been inspired without any of that. Inspired to pick up my guitar and strum some chords while observing how the morning light showed the light sprinkling of freckles across Andrea’s nose and made her skin glow.
When she woke and smiled, it was as if I had my first line writing itself in front of me.
From her kissable lips to her hair all a mess, Andrea Foreman was stunning. The fact she had no idea of this made it intoxicating to watch her confidence flourish.
She sat up in bed, the sheet regrettably covering her gorgeous body. A body I’d ravished twice last night and wasn’t nearly done with.
“Sorry if I woke you.” My apology didn’t ring true given how sexy she looked just now.
The slow smile that played over her lips made my desire for her flare. “Can’t think of a better way to wake up.”
I set the guitar against the wall and crawled back into the bed, hovering over her so I could dip down to give her a kiss. “I can think of one better way.”
If we only had the weekend, I was determined to squeeze as much out of it as I could.
Peeling down the sheet, exposing the full image of her naked form, I paused before letting my eyes wander down in order to lock my gaze on hers. “If you could see a fraction of what I see, you’d walk around my house naked and proud of your body.”
I kissed down her chest to make my point and didn’t stop until I was hovering over her seriously addictive pussy.
“Let me shower,” she protested.
I rolled my eyes. “What did I tell you about how I liked my pussy?”
Her eyes went wide, but I could tell by the trembling of her body that she was turned on. “Tell me, Andi.”
“You like it tasting like pussy.”
Having her give me my words was such a turn-on. “Damn right. And having it smell like sex and your lips swollen from me being inside of you last night makes it irresistible.”
I swiped my tongue through her seam. “Fucking delicious.”
“Jesus. I—” She clawed at the sheets when I fastened my lips around her clit and sucked gently.
“You what? Tell me.” I was selfish in wanting her words, but I couldn’t help it. If her ex was half as greedy as he appeared, it was guaranteed he hadn’t been a generous lover.
“I’ve never felt like this. So consumed and overwhelmed, and, oh, God?—”
Her body shuddered when I put two fingers inside of her. There were few things I found more satisfying than playing guitar, but this, this was another level. “You’re so wet for me. So ready.”
“Yes,” she moaned.
“Grab my hair and show me how much you want to come.”
Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging and massaging, demonstrating the depth of her desire. There was nothing hotter than watching her take what she wanted without apology.
I alternated between lazy strokes and rapid licks against her engorged clit while my fingers curved toward her wall to find her G-spot. Relentlessly, I fucked her until she surrendered to my assault, the waves of her orgasm drawn out by the languid way I continued to play with her.
She removed her hand from my head, which was kind of a shame given how I loved feeling her lose control, yanking on my hair while she came in my mouth. Now she sat up on her elbows to stare at me with hooded eyes. Something akin to amazement reflected in their depths.
Because I was only wearing my flannel PJ bottoms with an elastic waist, she was able to make quick work of sliding them off my hips. But I helped, taking them off the rest of the way and throwing them onto the floor. She then reached for me, wrapping her hand around my shaft and gently teasing the head with a circular rub of her thumb.
Next thing I knew, she’d lowered her mouth over the tip. Now it was my turn to gasp at the sensation. It was insanely satisfying to see her peer up at me as if confirming she was doing it correctly.
“Your mouth is heaven.” I wasn’t exaggerating. She was hot, wet perfection wrapped around me. The way her confidence grew under my compliments was something I’d never experienced. It was addictive, and oh, so satisfying. “That’s it, baby, grip me harder.”
She did as instructed but then shocked me with an unexpected deepthroat stroke which left me breathless and grabbing for purchase on the bed. “Fucking hell, Andi.”
My expletives streamed forth unleashed. The way this woman could go from shy temptress to sexy goddess in the course of a few hours left me in a state of wonder.
Her bobbing threatened to unravel my last shreds of self-control, but when she lapped at my balls, I was done for. “I’m going to come.”
I was unsure what to expect, but her taking me deep into her throat and sucking me dry wasn’t it. I chanted her name mixed with every curse word I could possibly marinate into my pleasure.
She slowly extricated her mouth from my cock and looked up, wiping at her lips as though she couldn’t stand the thought of missing a drop. I nearly came again.
“Good?”
Her question was enveloped in fragility. Taking her face between my hands, I smoothed the dark hair from her face. “Unbelievable.”
The combination of her vulnerability and trust left me nearly speechless. This woman had no clue what a gift she was, and suddenly I was hit with the realization that one weekend wouldn’t be enough.
Later, I curled her into me, smiling when she dozed off again.
Not at all able to sleep, I climbed out of the bed, took a quick shower, letting Callie outside for a few minutes to do her business. Standing outside with my cup of coffee, I tried not to think about leaving on Monday and how I’d miss Andrea.
The idea was silly. She was an amazing woman, but I barely knew her, and we’d agreed to a weekend, nothing more. Yet here I was already contemplating when I’d be back in LA and if I could see her again.
Even if we stayed in touch, she was in the beginning stages of a divorce from the only man she’d ever been with until this weekend. The last thing she needed was to rebound directly into what? A long-distance relationship, at best?
Shaking off my thoughts of anything other than what we’d agreed on, I placed a Grubhub breakfast order to be delivered to my doorstep and checked my buzzing phone.
Shit. I’d forgotten all about my Zoom call with my producer. Sending him a quick response to give me a couple minutes, I went back inside. After feeding Callie, I grabbed my laptop and earbuds before sitting at my dining table.
Gary Radner came up on the screen. He was a seasoned veteran in the music industry and had produced my last three albums. “Did you oversleep, Deacon?”
“Something like that. How are you?”
“Good, good.” He quirked his head to the side. “I thought you were in LA until Monday?”
“I’m sitting in my house right now. Why?”
“Huh. Guess it’s because you normally don’t seem this relaxed unless you’re at home in Australia writing songs.”
My demeanor was absolutely a product of my night with Andrea. “Yeah, maybe I look this way because I had an inspiration for a song this morning. Anyhow, I’m still on schedule to travel on Monday.”
I went on to talk about timing and booked some recording studio dates four months from now. As I was about to wrap up the call, I glanced up, and my jaw dropped open. Because in walked Andrea, completely nude and shyly smiling.
“Uh, Gary. I need to go.” With the vision in front of me, I was in a hurry to get off the call. Clicking the disconnect button, I slammed down the lid of the laptop and stood up only to see Andrea’s eyes go large.
“Oh my God. Were you on video call?” She turned to flee, but not before I was able to grab her arm.
“I was, and now I’m not.” My fingers traced a line from her shoulders down her bare arms. “My brave girl,” I murmured before taking her lips.
Suddenly I stopped, a thought so poignant striking me that I had no choice but to act on it. Taking her hand, I pulled her to the bedroom, but instead of taking her in my arms, I grabbed my notebook and furiously scratched down the words “my brave girl” as the title of my next song.
Her confused expression had me explaining. “You’ve inspired me to write a song about you.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s the burden and the joy of being around a songwriter.” Putting the pad down, I planted another kiss on her. “Hopefully you’ll take it as the compliment it’s meant to be.”
“Only if I get to hear it someday.”
“Deal. Although I have to preface the promise by saying only a fraction of the songs I write get cut on an album.” Not everything was a hit song ready for radio.
She shrugged. “Might be more special if I’m the only person to ever hear it.”
So many people out there in the world would have the opposite view, but not Andrea. She truly was special. “Come on, my brave, sexy girl, I want to introduce you to my steam shower and all of the delicious things I have planned for you in it.”