Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
GRüSH
It’s nearly midnight when I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. I rise from the banquette as she enters the room and join her near the small upstairs bar where she leans while releasing a long sigh.
“Busy night?”
“The busiest Sunday open-mic night ever. I thought the crowd would clear out after you left, but a good chunk of them hung around until closing time. We fielded a lot of questions about whether you’d be going back on to play more songs tonight, and it would seem our consistent and repeated ‘no’ wasn’t believed, probably because nobody saw you exit the premises. ”
“I would’ve played more if it benefited you.”
“Your spontaneous appearance benefited the bar abundantly, thank you. The servers and bartenders too, even though they were run off their feet because I didn’t have adequate staff scheduled to handle a full house.
They weren’t complaining when they counted their tips, though.
They wanted to thank you personally, of course, but I sent them home and promised to pass along their gratitude.
” One eyebrow rises as a smirk curves her lips.
“Pretty sure Jane would’ve liked me to pass along her panties too, but you’ll have to wait until you’re onstage during your next tour for some of those. ”
“As I told you earlier, I only want one woman’s panties.” Stepping closer, I place one hand on the bar’s edge. Not actually caging her there, but making the intention known. “And that woman is you.”
“That’s because you’re here and dancing last night was a reminder of our chemistry.” She places a finger against my lips when I open my mouth to respond. “And I’m okay with that, with us enjoying each other until you leave town.”
Is she right, and that’s what I’m feeling? Chemistry and nostalgia? A potent combination. It’d make sense. But I’d be lying to myself if I tried to believe that’s all this is.
She cocks her head when too many seconds pass without a response. “Is that not what you wanted to talk to me about?”
“After how angry you were toward me the night before the wedding, I’m surprised you’d be okay with hooking up while I’m in town.” Hello, deflection, my old friend.
Now it’s Cate who is silent. Then she exhales while wrapping her arms around her middle.
A self-protective position she may not have consciously taken.
“I didn’t know you’d be at the party. Seeing you after six hears of holding on to a lot of big feelings threw me for a loop.
As for being okay with having short-term casual sex with you, I’m old enough and wise enough to know there’ll be an emotional price to pay when you leave.
But I’m prepared for it this time, and our circumstances are different. ”
“Are they?”
If a singular release of breath can be considered derisive, hers is the example. “Of course they are. You’re no longer chasing a dream with a question of whether or not you’ll make a career in the music business; you’ve achieved world-famous rock star status.”
“That’s my circumstances. You said ‘our.’ What’s different about yours?”
Her eyes search mine, and for a moment, I can almost see her choosing how to answer.
“This time, I’m prepared for the goodbye. For you to leave and not come back,” she says, tilting her chin ever so slightly higher.
The same unanswered questions I’ve had since that night six years ago sit on the tip of my tongue. Asking them would take this night in a different direction. Maybe blow a hole in this careful new peace we’ve achieved.
Besides, there’s a more relevant question that needs asking. “What if that’s not what I have in mind?”
Her fair eyebrows rise, then descend just as quickly.
“Ah, of course. You’ll come back from time to time to see your niece or nephew, or plural, if Ogram and Hope have more than one child, which is likely if all continues to go well with her pregnancy.
So, this goodbye would be a pause, or more accurately, consecutive pauses of undetermined length, and I’d be your Harmony Glen booty call. ”
“No. Fuck no.” The bar’s polished wood squeaks beneath my tightening grip. “You think I would treat you with such disrespect?”
“I think you’re an incredibly sexy man who travels a lot and hasn’t had any public relationships, and I know you wouldn’t cheat with me or anyone if you were in a private relationship, so I assume you’re having your needs met in a casual manner. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Heat swirls in my gut. At her indifference. At the implications of that indifference. “Is that what you have been doing? Enjoying casual gratification?”
“My personal life in your absence is none of your business, Grüsh.”
Tell her everything, or risk losing something you cannot replace with success, money, and fame, the voice in my head says.
Exhaling, I flex the fingers on my hand that isn’t clenching the bar with a viselike grip. “I know it’s not.”
“Good.” The furrows that deepened at the bridge of her nose recede.
“Because I’m still wildly attracted to you, as I’m sure you’re already aware due to your heightened sense of smell, and I’d very much like you to fuck me.
But I won’t give in to that urge if you think that indulging in our chemistry entitles you to anything outside of the moment. ”
Tell her, the nagging voice demands.
But how can I when she’s making it pretty damn clear that she has let go of what was deeper between us. “That’s what you want—just sex? A temporary, casual scratching of an old itch?”
Tilting her head, her expression and posture soften, and she places her palms on my chest. “It could never be ‘just sex’ with you.”
“Nor with you,” I say, pulling her against me. Gods, she feels so good in my arms. The rightness of it unfurls, spreading to every nerve ending, every cell of my being. “I have missed you, Catherine. Every part of you, with every part of me.”
“I’ve missed you the same way,” she whispers, her words mingling with my breath as I dip down and brush my lips across hers.
She slides her hands upward, her fingernails igniting a trail of sparks on the back of my neck before she threads her fingers through my hair.
“Tonight, let’s pretend the past six years don’t exist, and we never said goodbye. ”
“I can do that.” I want to touch her everywhere, but her beautiful face is my first stop. Cupping it between my hands, I sweep the pads of my thumbs across her skin. “Soft, like I remember.”
“You used to say it was like touching a ripe peach.”
“Still is.” Trailing my fingers down the delicate column of her neck elicits a shiver.
“I used to say you taste sweet and juicy like a peach too.” I run my palms along the sides of her breasts, then down her ribcage to her waist, where I gather the edge of her floral shirt and guide it off her body.
“Pretending no time has passed will be easy when you look exactly the same.”
“Good thing for dim lighting,” she says with a light laugh. “This forty-two-year-old skin has a few more spots and creases than my thirty-six-year-old skin did.”
“You looked perfect then and you still do.”
Another shiver ripples through her as I trace the upper edge of her white bra.
“Bet you don’t get utilitarian bras like this thrown onstage. Clearly, I wasn’t planning for my night to take this turn when I got dressed for work.”
I could tease her again about being jealous. Keep things light. Casual. Safe. Only I can’t. She’s too important. Taking her face in my hands again, I stare into the only eyes that have ever mattered. “I’ve never looked at the stuff fans throw onstage. And when I say never, Cate, I mean never.”
“I was teasing, but I shouldn’t have said it. Not after suggesting we pretend for a little while that none of it happened.”
“Sometimes I wish it didn’t.”
When she tilts her head, her hair shimmers like a field of golden wheat gently swaying on a sunny day. “How could you wish that when you’ve achieved everything you always dreamed of?”
“I’ve come to realize that getting those things I wanted didn’t mean having it all. There’s always something missing. A hole no amount of success has ever filled.”
Keep going, the voice in my head encourages.
“I know what you mean,” she says, before I’ve decided whether to take my inner voice’s advice.
Abandoning my hair, her soft touch traces the inner ridges of my ears, upward to their tall, pointed tips, then along the outside before trailing her fingertips down my neck and hooking them under the neckline of my dark t-shirt.
“Take this off. Take it all off. I don’t want to lose another minute of however much time we have together. ”
My shirt comes off in a quick, easy motion. Ditto with my pants and the rest of my clothes. Standing naked in front of her, having her heated gaze traveling my body again, is all it takes to trigger a stream of precum from the head of my rock-hard cock.
I coast my palms along her shoulders and down her arms, then slide them around her back to unfasten her bra. The garment slips away, leaving her beautiful breasts bare.
She shivers as I cup them, savoring their fullness in my hands while gently strumming the hard peaks with my thumbs. “I’ve missed your hands. You always knew how to make me needy for more with a simple touch.”
“I’ll give you everything you need.” Replacing my fingers with my mouth, I lave each nipple, swirling my tongue around one tip then the other, back and forth, while unzipping her pants and pushing them down, along with the panties beneath.
Holding on to me with one hand, she toes off her shoes and kicks them away, then does the same with her bottoms.
I don’t wait for her feet to be firmly on the ground before sucking one perfect nipple into my mouth. I want her off-balance, want her clinging to me, her back arched as she moans in pleasure.