“Beautiful,” I said softly, my voice full of reverence.
I glanced down as I filled my palm with the silky, berry-fragranced soap. My slippery fingers tracked a path down her neck, across her shoulders and down her arms to her hands. Then I shifted and rubbed my hands up her sides before gently lathering her breasts. Her heart thudded beneath my palm as I teased her nipples, making her moan. When my hands moved on, she grunted in protest.
I chuckled. “I think they’re clean now.”
“They might not be,” she pouted. Planting a kiss on one of them, I spoke against her wet skin, “I’ll be back.”
Kneeling, I scrubbed soap into the skin of her thigh, removing the physical documentation of the song I started composing earlier. But I wasn’t worried. The melody wasn’t gone. It was written on my heart.
“Hey, don’t forget you were going to play that for me,” she said as she watched the blue disappear.
I got to my feet and whispered in her ear, “How about I hum some of it to you now?”
She nodded. Pressing open mouthed kisses to her neck and collarbone, I began to hum the song I’d painted the chorus of on her thigh. I brushed my thumb over her nipple in rhythm with the melody I purred against her skin. My other hand sank between her thighs. I strummed her clit in a motion that mimicked the motions I used on my guitar daily. When her knees went weak and her vocals made the song my favorite composition to date, I abandoned her nipple and wrapped my arm around her waist. As she sang my name on the crest of her release, I crushed my mouth to hers.
“I want you,” she moaned into my mouth.
“I want you too. But we’ve got to get out. No condoms in here,” I panted.
Her teeth tugged my lower lip. “I’m on the pill. Have been since after prom.”
“Are you saying…” I’d never even thought of going bare. Not once. But with Izzy, the idea of it was invading my mind, erasing every other thought.
“Have you ever?” she asked.
“No, never,” I swore.
“I trust you,” she said simply.
“Oh, God. You’re killing me. Are you sure?” I rested my forehead against hers.
“One hundred percent.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I said, “Wrap your arms around my neck and hang on.”
Bending my knees slightly, I hoisted her up. When her limbs were wrapped securely around me, I tilted my hips and sank into her heat. The sensation of her body encasing me with no barrier between us was a sensation I wasn’t prepared for. It stole my breath and made me weak. Turning sideways, I pressed her body against the tiled wall.
“I love you,” I said as I memorized her face in this moment.
“I love you too, Daw. So much.”
Our mouths collided as our wet flesh slapped together. My tongue thrusting into her mouth mirrored my cock pistoning up into her core.
Being naked in front of her all day had been one drawn out act of foreplay. I wasn’t going to last long at all. But I needed her there with me. So, I reached between us and drew circles on her clit, feeling it swell beneath my touch.
Heat pooled at the base of my spine, and everything inside of me coiled tighter, causing me to increase the pressure I applied to her pulsing nub. With one final thrust, I let go, filling her. A few more swipes of my thumb, and she followed me over the edge, shattering around me in quivering waves.
“That was…” her voice trailed off.
“Yeah, it was.”
We didn’t need words.
Somehow, I found my brain enough to shut the water off, dry us both off and take her to bed. With her nestled in my arms, I gazed deeply into her eyes. It was now or never. Time to risk it all.
♪ No One by Alicia Keys
“Izzy, I want this,” I confessed.
She chuckled. “Good, we have two more days when we can do this.”
“That’s not what I mean. I don’t want two more days.” The words tumbled out without proper consideration or finesse.
Her face crumbled. “Oh, OK. Well, this was fun.” She tried to extract herself from my hold, but I tightened my arms.
“That’s not what I meant. I mean, yes, I want to spend the next two days lost in you. Buried inside you. Leaving my mark on you so that when I have to go back to New York, you have no choice but to remember my hands, my mouth, my cock.” I inhaled deeply. “But what I mean is that I want this. Us. I want us. Not as just best friends. Not as friends with benefits. But you and me, a real couple in love, giving it a try.” It felt like the silence stretched between us for an eternity.
Tears shimmered in her eyes. “You mean it?”
“With everything in me.” As the words hit her ears, her tears spilled out.
“I want that too,” her response feathered across my face in a hot breath. “But how will this…” she said, motioning between the two of us, “…even work? You’re going to be on the road even more. Women, really hot women, are going to be throwing themselves at you. You’ve become accustomed to…” She swallowed hard.
I pressed a kiss to her fingertips, then laid them against my heart as I resisted the urge to speak, knowing she needed to give voice to her doubts. I could give her time to find the words before I erased her worries.
“You’re used to a lot of action and satisfaction. And while you’ll be all over the world, I’ll be here, finishing school.” Her eyes were sad, already ending us before we even started.
Hell no.
“First of all, in case you didn’t know, my hand works pretty well. Not as well as yours. But it gets the job done. It worked for the month after prom when I went back home with only the memory of you to jack off to. It worked all of senior year. I can make it work again as long as I know I have your heart.” I placed my palm over her thumping heart, memorizing its cadence, imagining it speaking only my name.
“Daw, you’ve always had my heart. I have loved you since the day you moved in next door,” her whispered confession was a salve to my anxious soul.
“And you’ve had mine. Now… you get my body, my vow, my everything. I’m yours. You’re going to be on summer vacation soon, so you can come on tour with us. The label is going to hire a photographer to travel with us. It may as well be you. And when school starts back, we’ll travel to each other when we can. And when we can’t, we’ll get really good at phone and Skype sex. So, flutterby, will you be my girlfriend for real? Give us a try?” I gave her my best puppy dog eyes.
♪ My Blood by Twenty-One Pilots
She laughed and pressed her lips to mine as she rolled me onto my back and climbed on top. “Yes, to us. Yes, to everything.”
The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of posing and lovemaking…
My mind resurfaced from the memory as I spilled myself down the shower drain. My muscles went lax, and I began to get myself together, so I could go back to where the guys waited. In less than ten minutes, I made my way down the stairs.
“Pizza should be here in about fifteen more minutes,” Brooks said as I strolled into the room.
“Thank goodness. I’m starving.” I’d worked up an appetite out on the water.
“How were the waves, man?” Jett asked. He’d been out with me a few times before we went on the never-ending tour.
“Decent. You should’ve come with me,” I tossed over my shoulder as I wiped up the puddles of water I’d tracked across the floor earlier.
“Nah. I’ve been off a board for so long, I’d look like a kook again.” He shuddered at the possibility.
I chuckled. Before I could tease him about his cowardliness, Maddox called from the kitchen, “Yo, dude. What’s up with the Eiffel Tower puzzle on the table?”
“What are you talking about?” I answered back as I made my way into the kitchen.
“This picture puzzle thing you have in here with a ton of pieces missing. Don’t you know it’s pointless to try to assemble a jigsaw puzzle when half the pieces are missing?”
My heart rate kicked up a notch.
&nbs
p; “What did you say you thought it was?” I asked breathlessly.
“It’s the Eiffel Tower.”
As I leaned over Maddox’s shoulder, I could see he’d put a bunch of the loose pieces into place. And now that he had, I could see what he meant. It had been over two years since we’d been in Paris. But the arching lattice pattern was unmistakable now.
“Must be some fan posing in front of the Eiffel Tower,” I mused.
“Posing with you?” he asked as he pushed around the unplaced pieces.
I frowned. “Why would you think that?”
“Because isn’t that your hand with the tattoo ring around your thumb?” He pointed to a lone puzzle piece off to the side.
With trembling hands, I picked it up and examined it, then peered at the tattoo around my thumb. Izzy’s design for my skin was printed on the paper. “Damnit. Yes, that’s my hand. What the fu—”
“Dawson, what’s going on? Why do you look so panicked?” He looked at me strangely.
The doorbell rang. “I’ll fill you guys in while we eat.”
Once we were all settled in the living room with plates and beers for them, soda for me, I launched into an explanation. “I know you guys got boxes of fan mail. When I went through mine, I found some that gave me a weird vibe, and there were these cut up photo pieces in them. Ultimately, I was able to get a stack of letters sent by the same sender our old label had kept. The pieces in there on the table were scattered through like a hundred letters.”
“Holy shi—” Jett exclaimed.
I interrupted him, “My thoughts exactly. I was hoping the photo might be of the person who’s stalking me. But if I’m in the photo, then the stalker can’t be.”
“How do you know? Maybe you took a selfie with her,” Maddox said with his mouthful of pizza.
“Not possible. Not in Paris. When we were in Paris, both times, Izzy was there. The very little time we actually left our room on either trip, I didn’t speak to any fans. I was too wrapped up in her,” I explained.
“Maybe it’s a photo from a magazine shoot?” Wilder suggested nonchalantly as he continued to devour his slice.
“I didn’t do any magazine shoots in Paris.” This was so frustrating.
“You won’t be able to tell that until you get more pieces,” Maddox said.
“What did the letters say?” Brooks asked in a quiet voice.
With my foot, I eased the box towards him. He set his plate down and pulled out a letter. After reading a few to himself, he read some out loud.
It only took a few of the creepy letters for Brooks to say, “You need to hire security and let them handle this.”
“We need to hire a lot of people,” I stated. As we ate, I started filling them in on Bas’s suggestions.
Chapter 21
Izzy
♪ Beautiful to Me by Olly Murs
It had been two weeks since I met with Charles and wound up leaving several pieces with him. Before I left, we printed larger copies of the photographs he was interested in for both galleries. His staff was going to handle all the matting and framing. The only two pieces I couldn’t allow him to display were the Eiffel Tower piece and the handpicked bouquet painting. My heart twisted painfully just considering allowing those pieces to be out of my possession.
Since returning, I’d kept myself busy with photoshoots — portraits, events, weddings. They were a perfect distraction and helped keep the lights on.
Beckett and I hadn’t seen each other since we’d visited my parents. We both had too much going on. But we talked nearly every day, mostly about things going on with his work and the plans for the charity event for the research foundation he worked for. In my spare time, I worked on finishing the pieces in limbo on my easels. Except the self-portrait.
My phone vibrated next to me. “Hello,” I answered, placing my phone on speakerphone so I could talk hands-free.
“Isabelle, Charles Strong here,” his warm voice greeted me.
“Hi, Charles. How are you?” I couldn’t keep the smile out of my answer.
“Doing well, thanks. I’m calling with some good news. We’ve sold quite a few of your pieces from both galleries already.”
I stopped adjusting the contrast on the bridal portrait on my screen. “Wow. That’s great. I’m glad to know they’ll be getting a home and be able to bring someone happiness. Do I need to create some more for you?”
“Yes, but that’s not the reason I’m calling. My gallery hosts an art show once a quarter. The artist who was supposed to be featured next has been in an accident and won’t be able to participate. The board met this morning, and we decided we’d like to offer you the show.”
“What?” my voice squeaked with excitement. A show was my dream.
“Yes. I know it’s short notice. Less than a month. But since you have so many finished pieces already, I figured you could get enough together,” he said hopefully.
“Oh my. Wow. I’m honored. Of course, I’d love to. I’ll get right to work on sorting the pieces. How many do you think I need?” I rambled as I got to my feet and headed into the spare bedroom.
“Choose roughly thirty to forty. All media types. And select fifteen of your best pieces, so we can get some prints and art cards created. I’ll be in town soon, and we can start figuring out logistics.” He sounded pleased by my enthusiasm.
“Thank you so much, Charles.” Tears gathered in my eyes at the possibility of this dream coming true.
When I finished talking to him, I immediately began the soul-searching Charles had suggested I needed to do with my art. I prayed the search would help me choose the right pieces for the exhibition. I spent hours that night looking at creations I never thought I’d set eyes on again. I remembered every moment.
I cried over them. Savored them. Then tried to let them go. Mourning set in as I considered saying goodbye to representations of some of my most treasured moments.
When I could hold my eyes open no longer, I’d been through only a fraction of the photos. This was going to take forever. I settled under my covers and had just started to drift off when the tone on my phone alerted me to an incoming video call. For a brief second I considered ignoring it, but I swiped my screen and was met with Beckett’s smiling face.
“Hey, you,” he said softly.
“Hi,” I murmured.
“Did I wake you?” An apology was poised on his lips.
I scooted to sit up in bed. “Not quite. I was just getting ready to go to sleep. How was your day?”
“Not great. I lost a patient in the trial today.” The sadness in his eyes tugged my heartstrings. Beckett was invested in each patient in the clinical trials that had saved my life.
My hand covered my mouth. “Oh no. I’m so sorry. A new patient?”
“No. I don’t know if you remember him or not, but his name was Sam. He was there when you were undergoing your treatments.” He rubbed his hand over the top of his short, curly hair.
“I do remember him. Young guy. A year or two older than me. Blond hair. Soldier,” I ticked off the details I recalled. Sam and I had become friends over our shared physical misery.
“That’s him.”
“What happened? Had he been sick?” Once he finished the course of treatments, Sam had been the picture of health.
He shook his head sadly. “We don’t really know. His wife said he’d only complained of a headache a few days before. Hopefully, we’ll know more after the autopsy.”
“Should I be worried?” I chewed my lower lip.
The anxiety on his face didn’t match the words he spoke, “Not yet, babe. I’ll let you know if we need to do any tests. Now, tell me about your day.”
I didn’t press him for more information. He seemed so defeated. “Charles Strong called.”
“Did they sell more of your work already?” he asked excitedly.
I grinned at him. “Yes, but that wasn’t even the best news. He called to ask me if I’d be interested in having an art show in a
few weeks.” I bounced up and down on my bed.
“Wow. That’s amazing. Wait, you did say yes, right?” His eyes narrowed in contemplation.
“Of course, I said yes. I have dreamed of having my own show since I was a teenager.” Now that Beckett had called me, the excitement over Charles’s offer had me wide awake again.
“I’m so proud of you. Do you have to create new stuff, or are you going to unload the work you already have completed?” He turned his attention to the cup of coffee he was fixing.
I bristled at his suggestion of unloading, but I forced back a comment. “Probably some of both.”
He sighed. “I really am proud of you. Make sure you text me the date, so I can try to arrange to be there for your debut.”
It wasn’t my debut. I’d already hung my work in galleries. But I reminded myself, this was just semantics. “I will.”
Weariness rolled off him. “I wish I was there with you. We could celebrate.”
“You’ll be here for a visit soon. And if you’re tied up, don’t forget my parents’ anniversary party is coming up, so we’ll see each other then. Unless you don’t think you can make it.” Having lost a patient who was one of the success stories of the clinical trials might change his schedule.
“True. Listen, I hoped to talk with you about this in person. But after the day I’ve had, I just don’t want to wait anymore,” he sighed and sank to his bed.
I swallowed hard at the seriousness of his tone.
“I want us to start talking about our future. I know we haven’t been together as an official couple all that long. But we’ve known each other for quite a while now…” He fidgeted with the pillow behind his head. “I want you to come move in with me. Or actually, I want us to get our own place. Together. I already looked at a few places. I’ll send you the links of the ones I like so far. And I met with a former patient who’s a photographer. He’s looking to hire a new person for his studio and is willing to consider you. I gave him your contact information. What do you say?” he asked eagerly.
Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series: Box Set 1 Page 39