Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-three
CASSIDY
If it weren’t for his bunk outside of the bedroom, I’d call Isaiah presumptuous for thinking we’d share a bed.
Or perhaps because I let him draw me in for a slow kiss, I wouldn’t.
With my eyes closed, I can hear Aria’s adorable Mmm, mmm, mmm -ing. I’m unconscious that I’m repeating the sound as Isaiah’s lips slide over mine, tasting with soft nips. My core heats, though there’s not a damn thing lascivious about the kiss. The baby snuggles into the embrace with contentment. We’re able to move her from his hip to mine despite the lip-lock.
I’ve understood the role I’m here to play. It’s an easy one because these two mean everything to me. I won’t correct anyone’s assumption I’m Aria’s mother. Isaiah and I won’t hide our relationship. He’s set up the tour bus as a safe place for all of us. A home away from home for this little girl to ensure a sense of normalcy for her.
I thought I couldn’t love the pictures on the walls more than when I saw the proofs, but I do. We feel real.
In spite of Isaiah worrying he couldn’t have either me or the baby because neither of us were truly his, I know what we are is real to him, too.
My angst over Isaiah taking the squat bunk outside the motor coach bedroom ebbs away.
It sounds silly to admit, but for the first time I don’t feel young or na?ve or like I’m waiting on the precipice of something that hasn’t quite begun. I’m in the thick of it, falling for a man who women all over the country swoon over.
I bet they wonder how good he is in bed. I bet they wonder if he’s a romantic. I look at the flickering candles and the picture of us and my heart swells in answer.
Instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop—for Isaiah to walk away, the way I had been the week between Christmas and New Year’s—there are a million possibilities for tomorrow. Every one of them I can’t wait to experience.
Strange for a homebody, isn’t it?
Although I have taken actual vacations on planes before, today is more like day one of an extended trip than anything else. Maybe what brings me the most peace is Isaiah’s vow to return me to Kingsbrier. With nary a mention of Nashville, he sounds as if he plans to join me.
A throat clears in the tight hallway.
“Sorry to interrupt, Boss.” Monty tosses a thumb over his shoulder. “Vespa set up shop in the arena’s hospitality room. She sent me to make sure everything was good here.”
“Vespa’s not using the desk out there?” I ask.
“ Nah, that’s for us,” Isaiah replies.
My cheeks tingle. Admitting I’m ridiculously ready for a break from Isaiah’s assistant feels wrong, though my face must show my relief.
Monty makes fun of me for smiling. “Happy you and Vespa won’t be breathing the same air twenty-four-seven for the next few months, Miss Cavanaugh?” He gestures to Aria. “I can take lil’ miss for a walk if you’d like.”
I watch Aria rub her eyes. “She hasn’t napped yet.”
“Neither has Isaiah, and he’s got a sound check before the curtain goes up. You look bushed from flying, too. Lemme have Dillon get her carriage from storage underneath the bus and I’ll take the baby for a stroll. She’ll conk right out.”
“Knowing you, she sure will.” Isaiah takes Aria from me.
She gladly goes to Monty. We hear him baby-talking to her all the way down the hall and then his voice disappears.
“Well, Monty timed it perfectly, didn’t he?”
“He did.” Isaiah grins.
I pat his chest. “Now, you can rest. While you’re in bed, I’ll check what’s in the fridge to whip you up a mea—”
Isaiah kicks the door closed.
I blink.
His cheeks bunch, the grin taking on a cocky flair.
“You timed that!”
“They’re my employees.” He shrugs in a “what can I say” manner. “I’m allowed to take advantage of the fact that they’re supposed to do what I ask.”
“I’m an employee. Do you intend to take advantage of me?” I put my hands on my hips, feigning indignation.
Isaiah raises a brow, crossing his arms over his chest and bringing his thumb to cover his mouth. His eyes travel the length of me; from my wiggling painted toes encased in the strappy wedge sandals I splurged on, to my bare calves, up toward the hem of my denim skirt, and over the bell of my hip. When his gaze reaches the flirty red top I’m wearing, I feel my nipples tighten inside my lacy bra. “The thought had crossed my mind. Though it had a more mutual flair.”
I hum, tapping my lip and taking in his signature tight jeans and a tee that binds at his biceps and shows off the muscles in his forearms.
The giggle starts low in my belly. Isaiah’s chest rumbles. I’m uncertain which of us snorts first and then we’re full-on laughing. Neither of us is fooling the other. And I just… I adore how comfortable I am with Isaiah. How from the beginning he’s asked for what he wants, but is also patient and willing to wait for me to come around and understand we want the same things from our relationship.
It’s gotta be a little intimidating at first for any woman to think anyone like the Isaiah Roomer wants her. Except, he’s just my Isaiah.
We tease and taunt each other like a normal couple. We kiss and hold hands. We’re free to show affection now more than ever. He no longer walks behind me and I don’t need to escape to the powder room while he makes a hasty solo exit.
Yet, for all the declarations we’ve made to one another, indulging in one another’s bodies doesn’t happen anymore. I guess we needed to time it right to make love.
I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and he puts both of his on my hips.
“Could I interest you in using that all-access pass?” Isaiah removes the lanyard from around my neck.
He shuffles, spinning me around and dancing backwards toward the bed. He sits down on the plush comforter, pulling me to straddle his lap. My knees sink into softness and my skirt rides up.
I thread my fingers into his hair, fusing our mouths. His tongue finds mine. His kisses are starved and full of filthy promises. The long length of him presses at my core and I rub my greedy pussy against it.
“I love you,” Isaiah says when we come up for air. He gently smooths a flyaway strand of hair from my face. “Before things get crazier than they have been, I wanted to show you how much.” He takes my hand, pressing the pads of my fingers to his lips and then to his chest. “You’re inside of me. I want to go on stage each night without you worrying about how I feel. You’re mine. The only one I want. And I’m yours as long as you’ll have me.”
His concern to my reaction to his throngs of adoring fans is admirable.
I nip his chin between my thumb and forefinger, looking Isaiah straight in the eyes. “I love you. And I think you’re right, you should be inside of more than my heart right now. That way I can show you I feel it, too.”
We’re on the edge of forever. From what I’ve seen in the relationships surrounding me, we’ll soar for a while. We’ll falter and the walls will crumble around us. And if we have what it takes, we’ll pick up the broken pieces and put them back together again. Perhaps they won’t fit exactly the same way. However, after watching Isaiah mending his life and focusing on what was important, when it all comes tumbling down, I’ll want to try. For him, I’m prepared to try.
I unbutton his jeans, rising to kneel so he can tug them down. His index and middle fingers flash in front of my face, a metallic square packet between them.
“Prepared?” I jest, as he rolls it on.
“No, chou, I was utterly unprepared for you. And that’s what makes you so damn perfect.” He groans at the end of the sentence as I move my panties to the side and my cunt slides onto his hot cock.
It’s been a minute since we’ve had sex. My subconscious tells me I need time to adjust to the fullness. My body, slick with desire, refutes that. Isaiah guides my hips up and slams me back down. All I can do is moan my acquiescence. Each sensation is brutal and beautiful.
“Fuck, I missed your pussy.” He kisses me hard. “Take all of me, chou. Use me to make yourself feel good.”
I ride him until my thighs burn and my core clamps around his dick, holding him in a vice. Euphoria washes into my trembling limbs, making me want to collapse into his chest. Isaiah rolls me onto my back. He lifts my leg and rocks his pelvis into mine with gentleness. The sweet, slow, building strokes combined with his filthy words and praises take me higher. An orgasm I was incapable of after the first hits with sudden fierceness.
My body stiffens, and my throat clenches as he fills the condom. “Isaiah!” A hoarse scream echoes in the tiny room.
“Say it again, Cass.”
“Isaiah,” I whisper.
“Again.” He kisses me.
“Isaiah.” I curl my fingers around his stubbled cheek and look into his satisfied brown eyes.
“I want my name on your lips forever,” he says.
Rolling us to the side, he makes quick work of the mess. The lights go dim. His boots clunk to the floor. He sheds his pants and I shimmy off my skirt and my sticky panties before I curl into his arms with a contented yawn. Blissed out, we float to sleep.
Isaiahs’s watch alarm buzzes a while later. He silences it. The shades are drawn and the room is dark other than the flickering of the electric candles. He gets out of bed, pulling his pants on and the covers over me. Having lost track of time, I think he’s gone to the restroom at the front of the bus, and he’ll come back. I sink into the mattress.
When I wake up, it seems like a few minutes have passed. I tug my clothes into place and open the door. Monty sits cross-legged on the leather sofa in the front lounge, reading.
I place my hand on my forehead, apologizing, “I must’ve overslept.”
“Isaiah didn’t want to wake you. Tonight’s a big night. He hasn’t played an arena since before the shit hit the fan.”
“Oh.” A better girlfriend would have put that on her radar. But parts of the music industry are still foreign to me.
I look into the baby’s safe bunk and then around for Aria.
“Lil miss went with him for the sound check.”
“She did?” I swallow hard.
“Yep. The band is rehearsing and lighting techs are getting the timing nailed down for the new songs. I was supposed to wake you and take you over there if you hadn’t woken up by now.”
“Well, I’m ready.” I snag my pass from where it now hangs from a hook on the wall.
Nerves get the best of me as Monty escorts me into the venue. I’m here as Aria’s parent, so it’s time I act like it. We move inside a maze from one concrete hall passageway to the next. I might need a map to bring Aria back to the bus. I hear unfamiliar music stop. Isaiah speaks to someone. He wants the last chords played. The melody begins anew.
Monty pushes a thick black curtain to the side and I see Isaiah and Aria and my heart swells. Isaiah has the baby strapped to him in the front carrier. She is wearing her pink noise-canceling earphones, kicking her legs while he shows her the count of the beat with his fingers. The baby is so excited, and the smile Isaiah has on is the one I see on his face as he watches her reach her age-adjusted milestones. He loves Aria as if she’s his own and I get to bear witness to what a fantastic father he’s becoming.
But it’s when Isaiah and I lock eyes and he brings the microphone to his lips that I understand that what’s happening isn’t all about her.
He looks straight at me, belting out the refrain.
Hold onto my hand. Let’s see where this takes us.
Let me give you my heart. I think love can lead us home.