He was quiet for so long, I was certain he wasn’t going to answer my question. What happened tonight in that employee lounge had shaken me more than I could admit to Toven. I was terrified. But it wasn’t so much that I was afraid of being bitten or even of dying. I was afraid of never seeing Toven again, of never telling him how I felt about him and especially, of not having the chance to convince him of his goodness. His voice startled me from my musings.
“I saw the fear in your eyes tonight when Jeff had you pinned against the wall. I would die if I ever put that look on your face. I’m so afraid that I will put it there one day,” his voice was barely a whisper.
“You wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t know me. That guy was intoxicated by you. It overwhelmed him, and the beast inside took over. I have that same dark demon inside me. It wouldn’t take much for my control to slip and for me to be overwhelmed by you. If that happened, I could hurt you or worse.” His features were horror stricken at the mere thought.
♪ Crazy for You by Madonna
I ran my hand down his arm. “I do know you. You’re so much more than the virus you carry inside your veins. Toven, you are a beautiful soul who writes heart-rending lyrics, who goes above and beyond to right wrongs you didn’t even commit, who saved a dying colt, who’s done so many big and small things in just the short time I’ve known you to make me feel cared for when I thought I’d never feel that way again after my dad died,” my voice shook with the force of my emotions.
“But the darkness overshadows every good thing.” He held up his hands in front of me. “These hands that play beautiful music also possess the power to take a life. This mouth that’s vocalized so many emotional lyrics has also drained blood from people. This brain that’s created hundreds of songs in every imaginable genre has also imagined doing depraved things to you. I am a collection of many dark notes and only a few light ones. All you have to do is listen to the lyrics and songs I’ve written over the past hundred years. Each construction is darker than the previous one. As much as it pains me to say this, I need to put distance between us. I don’t want to bring you harm.” His hands dropped helplessly by his side.
“Toven, I know you have more than darkness and despair inside you. Music is your voice, and it’s beautiful even in darkness. You use music as a way to connect the world to you. But you can also use it to connect you to the world. Use it to express how you see things, feel things. I know you see more than darkness out there.” I sweep my arms around to encompass the world. “If you can’t find light within yourself, then let the light from out there filter in. I know it’s possible. Show me and show yourself. Play me something inherently beautiful,” I challenged.
He stared at me in quiet contemplation. I wished I could read his mind. I knew he’d written many beautiful pieces, but he knew that wasn’t what I meant. I wanted him to play me something that didn’t have roots in darkness and emerged as beauty. I wanted him to link with something that was light and beautiful and loving from inception. Then maybe he could see beyond the darkness which was blinding him and see what I saw in him.
He studied me for a long moment. Finally, he sighed in acceptance. “OK. But I might have to play something I didn’t write.”
“That’s fine. You connect with any music you play, even if its origins aren’t within you.” Figuring this might be a long exercise, perhaps even a futile one, I took off my jacket and threw it on the nearby couch.
When I looked back up, a kaleidoscope of emotions traversed the geography of his face. The sentiment that finally settled into place was one of hunger and desire, which thrilled me and scared me. The longer he trained that look on my face, the more of the latter I was. Maybe that was his plan, to scare me. I’d been on the receiving end of his hungry glances in the past, but they’d always been only glances. This one wasn’t ending. He was staring, and each passing second increased the heat by several degrees. He stepped toward me then froze. I thought he was finally going to let the darkness take over and devour me right then and there. I would’ve happily died in the bliss of that moment. I’d been waiting for it forever. I didn’t fear his darkness, I just had to make him quit fearing it.
But then he turned and walked over to the beautiful grand piano and closed the glossy lid. Confusion colored my features. Why would he close the lid if he was going to play something for me? He removed the music rack. I stood there, still perplexed. Maybe this was his way of admitting defeat, of saying he couldn’t play something that wasn’t rooted in darkness. My shoulders slumped in disappointment. Maybe I was wrong . . . maybe I couldn’t help him connect to his inner light.
“Come here,” he whispered in a husky voice thick with an emotion I couldn’t identify. But his words were a command, not a request, so I quickly walked to stand next to him by the piano bench.
“You think music will light me from the inside, and if I play something deeply beautiful, it will oust the darkness that’s taken up residence in me for over a century?”
When he said it like that, it did seem an impossible feat, but I nodded anyway. I’d hold out hope as long as I had breath that I could convince him not only that he had goodness and beauty within, but also that he and I belonged together.
“Take off your shoes.”
A strange demand, but one I followed. My trembling fingers managed to unfasten the straps on my sandals. I clasped my hands together to try to hide my nerves once I tossed my shoes to the side. I needn’t have bothered.
A small smirk lightened his features as he asked, “Worried about something?” I still hadn’t gotten used to how in tune he was to my heartbeat.
Shrugging, I answered, “Maybe a little.”
“I’m not going to hurt you. I’d rather die than hurt you. I’m just going to do as you ask and play something beautiful and light for you. I may even find something fun to play for you. But I need my greatest inspiration front and center.”
“OK. I can stand right by you or sit on the bench. I don’t mind. I just want to see you play something that exudes light . . . and love,” I cautiously tacked on at the end.
He turned to face me fully. We were so close that our chests pressed against each other. I was certain his heart could feel the erratic pounding of mine. His lips entrapped mine. The kiss had more heat, more need, more intensity, more everything than any of our kisses before. And that was saying a lot considering how gifted Toven was with his mouth. His tongue plundered the depths of my mouth, tangling with mine in an erotic dance I prayed was foreshadowing of the dance our bodies would do soon. His hands went beneath my armpits and lifted me up and away from him. The scent of fresh strawberries drifted around us as my body heated from the kiss.
“When I said front and center, that’s exactly what I meant.” He set me on the closed lid of the piano, resting my feet on the keys, releasing a cacophony of sounds.
“Won’t my feet be in the way?” I asked, confused.
He stretched my right foot to the far end of the keys and set it down. A deep, booming sound emitted from the piano, vibrating beneath me. He stretched my left foot to the upper keys and gently placed it, releasing a high-pitched noise. Once my feet were settled, no further sounds emanated.
He placed his hands on each ankle. “You want me to play,” he said as he slowly let his hands drift up my legs, drawing my flowing skirt up to my thighs, “then you’ll keep your feet still no matter what. I don’t need the keys at the far ends. As long as your feet stay still, you won’t make sounds discordant with my song. Understand?”
I swallowed hard and nodded. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to hold the position. Placing my arms behind me, I was able to find a comfortable angle to prop myself up, though I doubted my ability to stay in this stretched position for too long. I hadn’t worked out in several months, so I wasn’t as limber as I used to be.
He pressed his body forward and crashed his lips to mine in a searing kiss that bruised and branded. It was over far too quickly. Toven set
tled on the piano bench, dragging it close enough to the instrument that I felt his breath on my lower thighs where the fabric of my skirt was gathered.
He examined my position. Satisfied, he said, “That’ll do for now.”
His fingers teased a song from the massive instrument beneath me. “A fun song for you, to show you I’m capable of playing something fun.”
♪ Baby by Justin Bieber
I immediately recognized a perfect rendition of Justin Bieber’s, “Baby”. I loved that song, so a smile split my face. His eyes on mine lit up in response to my delight. “I didn’t know you knew this song.”
“When a song goes diamond and platinum twelve times, it’s kind of hard not to know it.”
“So, are you a fan of the Beibs?” I asked with a laugh.
“I appreciate all manner of melodies and catchy beats.”
“Just not all lyrics?” I teased.
“I can respect many lyrical exercises. I just wouldn’t say that I understand the point of them all.”
After a verse and chorus, he slipped into another tune.
It was light and beautiful. It took me a few bars to recognize the Beatle’s song, “Here Comes the Sun”, but once I did, I began to sing along. His voice joined mine. Once he finished the song, his fingers continued to play something mindless as he gazed up at me, almost as if he was looking at the sun.
♪ Here Comes the Sun by the Beatles
“You are the light in my world. My sun. As long as I have you, my shadows aren’t as big because you illuminate the dark corners.”
My heart melted at his words. They were sweet, but his confession wasn’t the purpose of this exercise. He still didn’t realize he didn’t need a source of external light, though I longed to be that for him—to be that vital to him.
Eyes still glued to mine, his right hand left the keys to draw patterns on my leg. “I just can’t seem to keep my hands off you when you’re this close to me. You make me lose my head.”
I let one of my hands brush his cheek. “I know the feeling.”
He leaned into my touch as he bunched my skirt up even higher, high enough that I was certain given his position, my purple lace panties were visible. I tried not to think about it. My eyes still held his, so maybe he was unaware of my panty-flashing pose.
That thought was erased by his feather-light touch brushing the outside of my panties. Heat and moisture flooded the area at that hint of a touch. My breath stilled in my chest, and my heart galloped at breakneck speed. The aroma of strawberries strengthened. His left hand continued to play something of his own creation. All too quickly, his right hand traveled down the opposite leg to settle back on the keyboard. Because his eyes never left mine, he had to see the disappointment in my eyes.
It took me quite a bit to place the song he was played now. Maybe because I was so distracted by the heat coiling in my belly and the inferno raging in his gaze. Finally, when he got to the chorus, I recognized the older song by The Mindbenders, “Game of Love”.
♪ Game of Love by The Mindbenders
“You playing a game with me, Toven?” I asked huskily.
He winked at me. “Maybe.”
I liked this playful side of Toven.
He picked up the tempo and banged the notes of the Stones’, “Start Me Up”. The vibrations of the song rumbled through my backside and up to where a fire was being stoked. I’d had a walking hard-on—was that possible for girls?—for days. It seemed it wasn’t taking much to start me up. It was beginning to smell like I’d rolled around in strawberry preserves, the scent was so strong. Maybe Sandra’s heat-responding lotions needed some tweaking.
♪ Start Me Up by The Rolling Stones
He stood while he continued to play. Our lips drifted toward each other and meshed in a perfect symphony of teeth and tongues and fire. The music stopped, but the silence didn’t immediately register, at least not until his fingers tangled in my hair. My hands bunched in the fabric of his shirt, feeling the muscles of his chest ripple beneath my hands. I longed to pull him closer to me, but the piano keys were an immovable obstacle. I squirmed under the heat of his kiss and the tease of his touch. I didn’t know how I had the presence of mind to keep my feet planted where he’d ordered me to. Maybe I was paralyzed from the waist down. I knew any sour notes played by my feet would halt whatever we were doing. His fingers floated down my body to my bare thighs. He ran them up the outsides of my legs to my hips, leaving gooseflesh in his wake.
Nope, not paralyzed below the waist. Curling his fingers under the thin waistband of my panties, he broke our kiss.
His eyes stared into mine as he whispered against my swollen lips, “I need more inspiration. Is that OK, baby?”
I was distracted by the term of endearment. It felt foreign in my ears. He said it twice at the club, but I didn’t get a chance to savor it then. I wanted to savor it now.
When I didn’t answer him, he repeated, “Is it OK?”
Not trusting my voice, I nodded. I wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to do, but I didn’t expect to feel pressure and hear a loud ripping sound as he literally tore my panties from my body.
Holy crap, that was hot.
He pulled them out from under me and held them up.
“I really liked that pair,” I pouted.
“I’ll buy you more.”
The flow of air against my now bare nether regions felt good against my heated flesh. I fully expected him to free himself from his pants and finally take me. So, I was stunned when he sat back down on the bench and pulled it a little closer to the piano—close enough that each exhale of his breath sent a current of air directly across my core. My blood zinged through me and concentrated in that single, small area of my body. His gaze left mine and glided down my torso to settle on that vulnerable part, the area which had never been so exposed or visible to anyone without a bunch of official letters behind his name.
“So damn beautiful,” he growled as his fingers faltered on the keys a bit.
Those three words did amazing things for my ego. I straightened my spine, which thrust my chest out and caused the fabric of my skirt to slip backward off my legs and pool around my butt. The move totally exposed me to him, and I loved it. I thrilled at the darkness and light warring in his amber gaze. He blew a stream of hot air directly at me, which made me moan and clench inside with need.
“That is an inspiring sight.”
He started playing another current song. I immediately recognized it as Ellie Goulding’s, “Love Me Like You Do”. That song always sent a sexy vibe through me. My body began to sway with the beat. I almost shifted my feet but caught myself just in time.
“I think this is my new favorite song after watching you dance to it in the club tonight.”
“I love it myself. Something about it awakens feelings . . . desires inside me,” I admitted breathily.
He tilted his head as he considered me. “You want to tell me about these desires?”
I bit my lip and shook my head no. There was no way I could tell him all the things I desired with me sitting there so exposed. Besides, I didn’t even really understand all the feelings myself.
“Suit yourself.” He leaned forward and ran his nose from the inside of my knee up my inner thigh. Repeating the motion on the other side, he had me feeling needy.
I thought I’d been hot and bothered before. I was beginning to see that my perception of hot and bothered was seriously inadequate. Toven was teaching me the true meaning as he passionately played the piano. Each strike of the keys vibrated up through the wood of the lid, passing into my butt cheeks and traveling straight to my aching clit. If the course of events continued down this path, there was going to be a puddle beneath me on the piano—I just hoped it wouldn’t damage the exquisite instrument.
“Toven, please,” my voice was breathy and needy.
If I didn’t get release soon, I was going to spontaneously combust. He smiled against my skin. His fingers shifted to a new melod
y, and he moved his mouth from my skin and began to whistle. My skin was so sensitive and damp that every blown note from his lips sent shivers of arousal to my throbbing, nerve-filled bud. If I wasn’t so keyed up, I would’ve chuckled at his current choice of song, “Patience” by Guns ‘n Roses. He had me quivering with so much need that I couldn’t appreciate the irony of his selection.
♪ Patience by Guns ‘n Roses
After torturing me with beautiful whistled notes, he continued to tease the sensitive flesh of my thighs and the crease of my legs with his nose and the occasional nibble of his lips. With each pass, he got closer to where I desperately wanted him to focus his attention. I wasn’t sure what it would feel like when his mouth finally settled there, but I was about willing to die to find out.
“I know you’re a virgin, and you’ll still be one tomorrow, but I have to ask you something else. Remember we promised complete honesty?” His gaze searched mine.
Disappointment flooded my heart momentarily as I realized he had no intentions of taking me and making me his tonight. But I nodded. I couldn’t have vocalized a response even if my life depended on it. With the look in his eyes at the moment, my life might very well be on the line.
“Have you ever had an orgasm?” his tone was so calm.
Why in the world would he be asking me this now?
I didn’t want to talk to him about what I’d done by myself. It was embarrassing to think about, let alone speak out loud.
“Honesty, remember,” he reminded me, no doubt sensing the lie about to fall off my tongue.
“I-I think so. I mean I’ve . . . touched myself, and it felt good, so I think so.” I flushed all over with embarrassment.
A strange look crossed his face, but I didn’t know how to interpret it.
“OK. Another question, has anyone ever seen you like this?” He tipped his head, indicating the exposed position I was in.
Blood Song: Refrain (Blood Song Series Book 2) Page 8