“Open mic night,” he says, his Spanish accent thick. “A buddy of mine sings there sometimes.”
“Yeah?” I ask, but I’m distracted. My belly is fluttering and my heart pounds like it knows who I’m about to see. I’m swept up in the city lights and I don’t think I’ll ever get over it, even after years of living here. It makes me dizzy with excitement. I can barely make out the cab driver’s words over my eagerness.
I get out and the driver wishes me luck, but I don’t need it because leaning on the brick building is a man that makes things happen. As I start fumbling over a greeting, he simply walks up to me, pulls me toward him by my waist and kisses me silly.
“Well, then,” I say when he pulls away and chuckles. “I hear there’s an open mic going on tonight.”
“You heard right. Tonight you keep me company as I work,” he says as he pats my hand and leads me inside. I get the bar’s name as we make our way down the stairs and into the open space. There aren’t too many people, but a lot of them greet Maddox and look at me curiously. My hand is in his and he leans down to kiss my temple. “Want anything?”
I ask for water and remove my coat. I wish I’d had time to change my shoes, but at least there are open seats. I choose one and listen to the band currently playing a version of “Billie Jean.” It’s good but you’ve either got to be as good as the original or better and this band is neither, though I can appreciate their bravery.
Maddox approaches and sets the glasses down before scooting his chair in a little closer. I can feel his body heat, and it’s miraculous how my mood has changed just from being in his presence.
“What do you think?” His mouth is close enough that I feel his exhale dance against my neck.
I sip my water and glance at him before I shake my head.
“Why not? They’re good,” he offers, and I roll my eyes.
“Good is good. But good doesn’t get you far.” We both know this because we know the industry.
He nods with his eyebrows raised, which I can only guess means he’s impressed.
“You’re harsher than you look, Ms. Kingsley.” I shoot him a look and he raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay.”
He’s winding down from his laugh, and the smile on his face as he looks away tugs at my heart. It takes hold of a loose thread from deep inside me and yanks it, causing it to spiral out of control until the only thing left is the mess that still beats for him. This man with his beautiful smile has no idea of the mess he’s made of me.
Several bands and some solo acts perform, but none of them are outstanding enough to warrant approaching. I’m about to check the time when someone approaches the table.
“Hey, man,” Maddox says, standing and giving him a half hug. “How’s it going?”
The man looks at me and Maddox smiles.
“Scott, this is my girlfriend Emerson. Emerson, this is the owner, Scott.”
Girlfriend.
Even Scott looks a little floored by the introduction.
“Well, hell! Welcome!” He shakes my hand enthusiastically before turning back to Maddox. “Got one open if you’re wanting to take it.”
Maddox looks over at me and twists his lips.
“Eh….”
“Wait, he wants you to perform?” I ask and Scott says yes. “Go! Get up there,” I shout and shoo Maddox. He takes one last look at me before he smiles and walks toward the stage, his walk that of a confident man walking toward his element. Once he’s behind the mic, he introduces himself.
He voice sounds deeper but so sure, and I resist the urge to cheer him on like a groupie.
“Wondering if any of you know The Script.”
A few people whistle and I clap, not caring that a few people look in my direction. Maddox looks back at the live band and shares a few words with them before the music starts up.
Although he’s not the one playing the music, he’s still so into it before he’s even singing. But man…when his voice rings out, I want to listen to it forever. Even singing about heartbreak, he’s effortlessly beautiful, dragging you to experience his emotions.
There’s something about witnessing raw talent on a stage. Maddox isn’t a performer; he’s an artist and the stage is his canvas. Though I know he doesn’t want this, the limelight gathers around him. It pools at his feet and begs to light his world ablaze. There are some people you just want to listen to and look at. And damn it…Maddox has a hold on my eyes and ears.
You arrest my senses,
And I’m left defenseless.
If love were a battlefield, I’d be standing in the center of it, no weapon, no protection, and no will to fight and because of that, I’m deeply afraid.
Meetings are fun, I tell myself as I walk into the A&R meeting Thursday morning, late. With my hair down instead of pinned back. With no makeup on. Thank God I’m properly dressed.
I look down at my jeans and my ballet flats.
By my own standards, I am not properly dressed for the office after all.
“Apologies,” I say as I rush in, travel mug in hand. I’m hoping my peppermint hot chocolate will lift my spirits.
Last night, Maddox assured me I wouldn’t regret spending time with him and I don’t. But this morning, as I look at the people who are waiting for me to fail, I’m annoyed. When I look at him, the feeling doesn’t go away.
These people don’t know how hard I’ve been working. They only know that this one time I’m late. It will brand me for a long time unless I do something amazing to wipe this incident from their memory.
Unfortunately, I’m too tired for amazing and my brain isn’t awake enough for it.
Felicia is seated beside my seat and Maddox is beside her. I try to ignore the stiff smile she sends him as if she’s apologizing for me. As if they’re connected by their opinion of me; their lack of belief in the woman who is their supervisor simply because of her DNA.
I open my planner and nearly knock over my travel mug. Felicia catches it and places it upright, farther from me, and I want to pull it back toward me but I can’t without looking like a brat.
The meeting progresses and while someone is running numbers, I hear Felicia whispering something to Maddox. My eyes flit in her direction and everyone is watching either her or me. I give her a moment, even though I want to jump down her throat, but the fact that she’s continuing is angering me further.
“Hold on,” I tell the rep speaking and hold up my hand. “Ms. Gardner, if you want to have a private conversation, I suggest you step outside.”
Felicia’s eyes widen and Maddox sits back in his seat. I don’t miss the way he starts to tap his pen against the tabletop.
“Continue,” I say, and I ignore his stare for the rest of the meeting. When it ends, he tries to talk to me alone, but Hollis approaches us so I clear my throat and move from beside him. I let my assistant whisk me away toward my pile of work and demand to not be disturbed. For extra measure, I turn off my ringer on both phones and lock my office door.
I don’t regret last night, but I’m starting to regret this morning.
It’s three in the afternoon by the time I unlock my office door and step out. Hollis looks at me and laughs.
“What the hell was that ? ” he asks, and I have to ask for clarification.
“Which part?” Hollis wasn’t at the meeting, so anything he tells me will be what’s been circulating around since I locked myself in my office.
“Um, the part where you apparently shoved your foot up Felicia’s ass.”
“Please,” I say with a snort. “Hardly the case.” Of course there are already stories floating around that stretch the truth. I didn’t think about how I’d look in the moment, and I’m still not sure what to think; whether I’d do it again or if I regret it. I realize I don’t regret it, the more I think about it.
“Yeah, well, you have missed calls and people have been prowling the area. Including the very angry-looking man headed our way.”
I turn just in tim
e to see Maddox storming toward us. I almost want to run and hide, but he nods at Hollis before entering my office without a word to me. I close my eyes and turn toward Hollis. I open them to see him peeking after Maddox.
“Want me to call the cops?” he asks, and I let out a chuckle before shaking my head. “Have fun.”
I walk into my office and close the door behind me.
“Were you waiting for me?” I ask. His back is facing me and he’s touching something on my desk. I can’t take his silence so I pass him to sit, and before I can make it around my desk, he’s grabbing my waist and turning me to face him.
I’m faced with the same man who wanted to see if I blushed when he made me come. He’s the same man who hates that we don’t go to my apartment. The same man who pretends he isn’t bothered by the fact that I don’t want anyone to know we’re together.
His hand slides from my arm, over my elbow and down to my wrist. He’s pressing my palm to his erection. I lose my breath somewhere along the way. Da-dum, da-dum, too fast, too fast, too fast, my heart says with each beat, but it’s like I’m at a carnival sitting in a tea cup and it’s turning and turning. I can’t tell him it’s too fast because I don’t know that I want to slow down.
“It’s the craziest thing. I hate this, but it turns me on so fucking much,” he murmurs, his lips just above my forehead, and I want so badly to feel them against any part of me. I live for those moments of physical touch in any form; his hand on my back, his lips on my mine, my hand in his. In this case, my hand is encompassed by him. One hand is pressing the back of it, and I’m following his movement against the rigid erection covered in soft denim.
His other hand tilts my chin, exposing my neck. He gives me just what I need, pressing wet kisses down toward my collarbone and then back up again, all while using my hand to pleasure himself. After a few minutes, his hand lets mine go and I think that’s it. I breathe again. Only to hear the sound of his zipper. He grabs my hand again and God, I have no choice but to wrap my fingers around it.
My eyes remain on the door. The world around me is quiet, but it’s so loud between the two of us. Our breaths clash and I can feel his steady pulse as I follow the directions his hand gives wordlessly, his excitement brought to life by the roar of sex in his veins.
“The…door….” His teeth nibble on my chin and I wonder how I’m standing here, my hand moving to the rhythm he sets. I’m torn between wanting him to come and wanting this to go on forever. Because the moment I look away from the door and into his eyes, my lips part and I know I’ll never see anything as sexually satisfying as the look in his eyes. I thought his voice could make me come. No, the way he looks at me now, his orgasm his endgame, I have to grab his free hand and bring it to my breast. Anywhere. I need to feel his hands on me in return.
He grunts as he squeezes roughly before gingerly running his thumb over my nipple and I’m wanting him to clear my desk and bend me over. I blush at the thought and the sound he makes, from deep in his chest, makes my pulse quicken. I feel his orgasm hit my hand and I’m still so needy from the experience. I need more. Something.
I want to look down at us, but I can’t find the nerve and that makes me flush even more. I’m shaking and only a hair of a touch could have my world spinning.
“Ah, I love when you think things that make you shy. Makes me want to do them to you,” he says as he catches his breath, running a finger over my warm cheek.
I almost tell him to do them, all of them. But, as usual, words escape me and I say nothing as he grabs a tissue and cleans my hand and then himself.
He knows that I’m dying, those brown eyes looking at me. Lingering like he’s waiting for more. He has to know that he’s woken something up in me. His sly little smile tells it all, but he doesn’t touch me anymore. Not a kiss, not even a fucking handshake. I’m shaking with annoyance and need.
He’s standing right in front of me, and all I can think of is pushing him to the ground and making as much noise as possible but he knows I won’t. He’s using my need for privacy and my lack of confidence against me. He’s standing here as if to tell me he’s there for the taking.
My face is flush but not from my shyness. From my need to break something. Maybe even his neck.
“Don’t embarrass me again,” he whispers before turning to leave.
I have to fight the urge to scream.
Chapter 15
I’m furious for the rest of the day and my skin is sensitive. My body is buzzing, and I’ve contemplated calling Maddox back up here more times than I’m willing to admit. I bet he’s waiting on my call, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. The only problem is, I can’t get any work done like this.
Every time Hollis talks to me, I have to stop myself from snapping at him. He’s stayed away for the past hour, but I can feel him staring at me from the doorway. I want to tell him to leave me alone, but I look at the time and I know he’s here because he’s ready to go home.
“One minute,” I tell him. When he leaves to grab his things, I internally beg to not run into Maddox because, in my lusty rage, I’ll kill him. Or hump him. Both I cannot come back from.
I damn near run from my office to the elevator. I hear Hollis rushing up behind me as I tap the elevator button several times, looking around. I look like a criminal on the lam when really I’m just a horny woman looking for a cold shower and to be left alone.
“What’s the rush?”
“I need to get out of here before I lose my mind,” I tell him through gritted teeth. When the elevator doors open, I’m inside and tapping the button to close the doors before anyone else can get in. I’m a dangerous woman right now. The less people around me, the better.
We make it all the way down, and I’m speed walking to the entrance when I see Maddox. I can’t pretend I didn’t see him because he’s right in front of me. He steps away from the people he was talking to and heads my way. I want to tackle him because now I know what he looks like when he comes. For as long as I live, I’ll never get that image out of my head.
Worst of all, I remember what it sounds like. Maddox’s sounds are all locked away in a special part of my brain, but this one—like he’s gasping for breath and I’m his air—will haunt me for the rest of the night, I’m sure. This makes me angrier.
“Hey,” he says, his eyes flitting between Hollis and me.
I tell Hollis to grab our cab and watch him walk away.
“What?” I ask. I can’t look at him so I look at his shoulder but even that, covered in navy cotton, reminds me of how much I want to lose my freaking mind with him. Loud and sweaty, in a way I’ve never dared to try.
He smiles and I can’t help but look at the crooked beauty of it. I have to blink slowly so I don’t lose my resolve.
“I’m not in the mood. What do you want?” I’m looking at his shoulder again.
“I beg to differ,” he says, his mouth closer to my ear. I smell him and it takes me right back to our little session upstairs.
I try to walk away but he steps in my way. Thankfully, he hasn’t touched me. Once he touches me, that’s it. I won’t be able to fight him.
“Let me take care of you.” He holds his hands up and all I can see are his thick fingers and I remember how good….
No. I’m pissed. Today has gone from bad to worse, and I remind myself of my need to balance him and work. This morning the scale tipped in his favor, and I can’t have that happen again. I can’t have what happened in my office happen again. I’m losing my mind to Maddox and I can’t afford to.
“No thank you,” I say, and he looks surprised. “Yeah, I’m…dying to be touched. But that’s what you wanted, right?”
My voice sounds so needy and upset at the same time. It shivers with emotion, but it’s laced with a hint of anger and hurt because that’s how I feel. Like I need to hug myself.
He looks down and then back up at me.
“I’m sorry. I don’t really know….”
I shake my head and l
ook past him at Hollis, who’s holding a cab for us.
“Goodnight, Maddox.”
I’m just out of the shower when my phone rings. Maddox is calling again, and this time I answer because I don’t know what’s going on between us and it bothers me. But I also feel stronger talking to him over the phone where I’m not dizzy with lust.
“Hello?”
I hear a sigh of relief.
“I thought I’d never hear from you again,” he says, and I run my teeth over my lips.
“Impossible. We work together.” My tone is clipped and I start to pace my room in slow steady steps.
“You could fire me,” he tells me, his voice going husky and it’s a straight shot to my groin.
“What are you talking about?” I sound anxious and nervous and all of the things I thought I washed off my skin a few minutes ago. But like some sort of snake charmer, he’s brought the slithery need right out of me again.
“What are you angry about? Are we moving too fast or are you upset because I didn’t get you off too?”
A squeak escapes my mouth and I’m stammering.
“Why are you that way?”
“What way?” I ask.
“Weird about sex.”
“Who likes being horny and toyed with?” I cover my eyes with my hand even though I know he can’t see me.
“If you trusted me, I would’ve made you come harder than you ever have before.”
I can’t even speak. My face is hot and I’m too freaking shy, too restrained to talk to him the way I’m sure the women he’s used to would. He doesn’t know that he’s already made me come harder than I ever had before; so hard that I nearly lost myself for a moment.
“You’re not a virgin, right?” He sounds a little hesitant and then adds in a rush, “I mean, if you are—” before I interrupt him.
“No!” I yell, embarrassed.
“So, what is it?”
I sit on the edge of my bed and try to figure out a way to get out of this conversation.
The Sound of Serendipity Page 13