The Widow and the Rock Star

by J. Thomas-Like

  I wasn’t about to let him have as much control this time. I didn’t want it to be all about me. I flung the sheet away from my body and slung my leg over his lap, pushing him down on the bed with a wicked grin.

  Chapter 16

  “This time you’re taking a shower with me,” I insisted. Vivienne lay sprawled in the bed looking like she was about to fall asleep again. She opened her eyes slowly and then nodded. There was no doubt this time she was feeling good. She looked about as satisfied as a cat with a full stomach. “Besides, you have to check out this bathroom. It’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. It might be the only reason I really wanted the house.” In the back of my mind I knew I was taking a chance inviting her into what was normally a really private sanctuary for me, but she didn’t know that.

  As I pulled her to her feet, she grabbed the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around her body. We stood in the doorway and I waved my arm.

  “This bathroom is probably half the size of most of the apartments I lived in when I first got to LA.”

  Vivienne’s mouth dropped open as she looked inside.

  “Wow!”

  “The previous owners redid the whole thing and I didn’t want to change it at all.” I stepped inside and pointed to my feet, wiggling my toes. “The floor is heated.”

  She took a tentative step inside, then looked up at me and grinned. All of a sudden, she looked away and I could see her cheeks getting red. “That is nice,” she whispered.

  I cocked my head to the side.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she insisted. “Wouldn’t you like a towel?” Vivienne bit her bottom lip, refusing to meet my eyes.

  I laughed and grabbed a towel from the bar on the wall and wrapped it around my waist.

  “Better?”

  Considering for a moment, she shrugged, still looking away.

  “Yes and no.”

  “Anyway,” I continued, “they put the toilet in that little closet back there. The tub is a top-of-the-line Jacuzzi tub and it’s a double size.” I pointed to the wall at the foot of the tub. “They even put a TV in the wall so you can watch while you soak.”

  “That’s a little odd, isn’t it?” Her brows were furrowed.

  “I thought so at first, too. Until I got myself a beer and sat in it. I think I watched half a season of Sons of Anarchy before I stopped emptying and refilling the hot water and got out.”

  Vivienne laughed and stepped a little farther into the room. I watched as she ran her fingers along the vanity’s granite countertops, taking in all the high-end finishes and details. She made a “hmm” sound when she looked up to admire the skylight in the ceiling. She finally looked to her right and caught sight of the shower, then gasped.

  “Good Lord! The shower alone is bigger than my kitchen and bathroom at home!”

  I nodded and took her by the hand to walk her toward the glass wall.

  “I never would have thought I could love a bathroom as much as I love this one.”

  “You’d never get me out of the tub,” Vivienne said, her eyes shining with amusement. “I’d be a prune forever.”

  “Would you rather have a soak?” I asked her. After the things she’d just done for me over the last two hours, I would have signed over the deed to the place if she asked.

  “No, no. Like I said, you’d never get me out. Show me how the shower works.”

  I did more than show her. I gently tugged the sheet out of her fingers and let it pool around her feet. I took her hands in mine and stepped backward so I could take a nice long look at her naked body.

  I wiggled my hips and the towel around my waist joined the sheet. She wouldn’t look me in the eye, but I could tell she was sneaking a peek here and there. I pulled her inside the shower, then reached behind her to yank the door shut. I turned nozzles here and there, and hot water shot out, drenching us.

  “Now I understand why these fixtures are so expensive,” she murmured. “They’re worth every penny.”

  “Don’t I know it.” I reached for some shampoo I hoped wasn’t too manly for her. “May I?”

  She opened her eyes and nodded her head. I washed her hair, massaging her scalp from front to back and side to side, including her neck and shoulders. When she was covered in suds, I pushed her under one of the showerheads to rinse. I was glad she kept her eyes closed because I was able to watch her without making her nervous.

  While I worked the lather out of her hair, I wanted to tell her she was the first woman to ever share a shower with me. I doubt she would have believed it. I had been with my ex for almost two years before it ended, and I didn’t even let her into the bathroom when I used it. I think it was because I never fully trusted Lucy.

  But I didn’t say anything. That was the thing about Vivienne, she had me thinking about things I hadn’t before, or things I wouldn’t have thought about sharing with anyone else. I stopped counting the number of times I opened my mouth to say something, only to shut it again when I realized I was about to reveal an ultra-personal fact to someone I hardly knew.

  The thing is, I had this feeling I could trust Vivienne if I did slip up and say anything too personal. It wouldn’t end up in the tabs the next day or on Facebook or Twitter. She didn’t seem the type to divulge secrets about someone else. She didn’t want anything from me. Still, I didn’t want to embarrass her, either, by coming off as an over-sharer.

  I knew I was taking a risk just like she took one to spend the night with me, and that was enough.

  Chapter 17

  Will’s hands on my head were as proficient as any technician who’d washed my hair at the fancy salon I frequented back home. I almost made a joke about how he could have another career if he decided to give up music. But still, I worried about how relaxed I was. It all seemed too easy. I gave in to the temptation and thought of Bruce. Instead of the usual yearning, I felt… I don’t know. Nostalgic? Peaceful? Not even trying, he disappeared from my mental TV screen and was replaced with Will. That was a nice surprise.

  Will finished rinsing my hair, so I offered to give him the same treatment. I’d never washed another person’s hair before, and I hoped I was able to make him feel as good as he did me. I stood behind him and filled my palm with shampoo, but when I reached up to put it into his hair he was too tall.

  “I can’t reach!”

  “Here.” He turned to me and bent down. I spread the soap into his hair and began massaging, but soon it started running down his cheeks and got into his eyes and mouth. He sputtered and I laughed as he stood up to clear his face under the spray.

  “I’m sorry!” I tried to hide my giggling behind a soapy hand.

  “That’s all right. I have a better idea. Sit down.”

  I turned and noticed for the first time that there was a tiled bench along the wall. I hissed a little as my butt and back hit the cool tiles of the seat and wall. He pushed my legs apart and then turned his back to me to sit down between my thighs.

  “Let’s try this again.”

  I squirted a fresh dollop of shampoo into my hand and put it on the back of his head, which was now a couple of inches above my own. I rubbed in a circle, creating a thick lather that smelled like mint and spices. I inhaled deeply, recognizing the scent as part of the smell of him. I then began using both of my hands to rub his entire head and behind his ears, and then his neck and shoulders like he had done mine.

  “Is this okay?” I asked after I was at it for a couple of minutes.

  “Mmm. Now scratch. All over.”

  I grazed my nails across his scalp and I think he actually shivered a couple of times. I felt a sense of power when he did, because I’d never been in that position before. In control, in charge, taking the lead in a given situation. It was exciting to know my touch could inspire a good feeling in someone else. I had gotten married so young and Bruce had been the alpha in our relationship. I didn’t know the first thing about power or control from a sexual standpoint.

  But Wil
l still held all the cards in many ways, even if he didn’t know it. The feel of his wet skin against mine made me shudder inside. I could have gone on like that for an hour, but he finally leaned toward one of the jets in the wall to rinse away the foam. When he sat back up, I leaned into him to rest my cheek against his back and he leaned back into me until I was pressed against the wall. The pressure of the cool tile against my back and his warm skin on my chest and cheek was satisfying. I ran my hands along his arms and up to his shoulders to massage them and back down again. I felt his hands reach around to rest on my thighs. It all felt like an incredible dream and I did not want to wake up.

  “This is one hell of a shower,” I whispered.

  “Oh yeah.” His fingers moved smoothly up and down my upper legs. The feel of his thumbs on my inner thighs was making it difficult to breathe normally.

  Any regrets I had about the whole night dripped off me and slipped down the drain. I let them. Any humiliation about my behavior followed along. I mentally waved goodbye. All the self-loathing with which I’d padded myself was cleansed. Good riddance. In that moment, feeling his strong fingers on my legs and his skin on mine, I didn’t care anymore. I had been alone for seventeen years, at a time in my life when I should have had a husband and family. I think the universe owed me, and I gladly accepted the payment sitting in front of me. If I spent the next 117 years alone, it would be totally worth it. The memory of the last twelve hours would sustain me far into old age, I hoped.

  I lifted my legs up to circle around Will’s waist and squeezed. I stopped massaging his shoulders and reached around to spread my hands across his muscled chest. I kissed the small bumps of his spine and there was no doubt he trembled. I moved my hands as low as his stomach before he turned to reach for me.

  I knew what I was starting in that shower and I happily told myself the third time was the charm.

  *****

  By the time we made it downstairs, Pepper was gone. She left a note saying Billy was going to drive her home and she would call me later. The faint smell of bacon was still in the air and it reminded me I was starving. I thought I would call a cab and head back to the hotel for some room service, or maybe Pepper would come by to hang out. But then I looked at Will. He was mousing around in the refrigerator. I couldn’t see his head, only his denim-clad backside. I felt a rush of warmth explode in my stomach and shivered as it spread to my limbs. The words popped into my brain and out of my mouth like someone was speaking for me.

  “Are you hungry?”

  He peeked around the door with an apple. “Ravenous.” He bit into it and started crunching away. “You?”

  “Duh.” I rolled my eyes. “Let me take you to lunch.”

  Will glanced at his watch.

  “I think dinner’s more in order.” The clock on the stove read 4:12 p.m.

  I gaped in disbelief.

  “My God, it’s that late?” Will grinned and tossed the half-finished apple into the trash.

  “Yep. Let’s go find some real food.” He came close and I could smell the sweet scent of red delicious on his breath. I swallowed with some difficulty, lurching from the room ahead of him, wondering out loud where my purse was.

  While pulling on my boots and finding my black clutch, Will made a phone call to his assistant, asking him to bring home his car from The Relic. I had to admit, I was surprised. Will didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d have an assistant.

  “I hope you pay that guy a lot,” I teased, as he led me out of the house.

  “We do, believe me.” He stopped on the front porch to shove a pair of sunglasses onto his nose. “Finn is a good kid. We found him when he was eighteen and the band was about five years into fame. Been with us ever since.” Together, we walked toward a silver Mercedes Benz that looked very expensive.

  “Whose car is this?” I asked, as he opened the door for me.

  “It’s mine.”

  “I thought you left your car in LA last night.”

  “I did,” Will said as he closed the door and then trotted around to ease into the driver’s seat. “This one’s mine, too.” He grinned and gently pushed the key into the ignition and turned it. The engine roared to life, and he hit the gas pedal to rev it a couple of times. “What can I say? I like cars.”

  “How many others do you have?”

  Will gave me his “aw-shucks” look.

  “Five. The one in LA is a Porsche 911. This is a Mercedes-AMG. And in storage, I have a 1957 Chevy, a 1965 Buick LeSabre, and a 1940 Ford.”

  “Wow!” I considered what it would be like to indulge in something as expensive as classic cars. I suppose I could have, considering the amount of money I’d made from the book. Instead, I’d pumped most of it into the foundation.

  As I put on my seatbelt, I noticed that one of the buttons on the shirt I wore was undone. It was a crisp, white oxford Will loaned to me to wear over my too fancy for daytime dress. Fortunately, I hadn’t had any trouble finding my bra, but my panties had gone missing. I tried not to be embarrassed about it, but Will found it quite amusing. He told me to get over it and go commando, then handed me the button down. Good grief, was all that had run through my head when I donned the dress and his shirt. It was longer than the hem of my dress, so I had to tie the ends in a knot around my waist, Pretty Woman style.

  Will spent a minute fiddling with the stereo to find music while the air conditioning cooled off the interior. The temperature outside hovered in the mid-eighties, and the sun was beating down without regret. When he put the car into gear and it started to move, my cell phone buzzed and vibrated inside my purse, making it walk off my lap. I grabbed it before it could land on the floor and took the phone out. Glancing at the unrecognizable number, I frowned, debating on whether to answer.

  “That Pepper?” Will asked casually as he headed out of the driveway.

  “I don’t know who it is.” While I waited for the call to go to voicemail, I checked my text messages and felt my stomach clench when I saw more than a dozen from Jake Rushmore and two from Pepper. Not bothering to read any of them, I dialed to check voicemail when the missed call icon stopped flashing. It was Jake inquiring about why I had missed the meeting at 2:00 p.m. along with seven other voicemails from him in the hour-and-a-half leading up to the meeting. There were also two voicemails from Pepper and my mom.

  “Shit!”

  “Uh oh,” Will said.

  “My agent. I missed a meeting at two. I totally forgot about it.” I rubbed my forehead as guilt and shame rose from my toes up into my brain.

  Will turned to look at me and smirked.

  “You were indisposed.”

  “That’s one way of putting it,” I muttered, fighting the urge to scream at my recklessness. “I need to call him back.” I dialed Jake’s cell phone and waited for him to answer. My heart started beating again when I got his voicemail. I put on my most apologetic voice. “Hey, Jake! I’m so sorry about the meeting. I went out with friends and I lost track of time, then my phone died. I swear I will call you a little later. Bye!” I ended the call and powered down the phone before he could call me back.

  “You’re a kiss ass.” Will teased, smacking my arm.

  “No, I’m not!” I punched him back. “I’m normally a conscientious person who doesn’t blow off appointments for hot sex.” My hand clamped against my mouth in surprise at my poor choice of words.

  “It was pretty hot, wasn’t it?” Will wiggled his eyebrows at me.

  “Good grief,” I muttered.

  Chapter 18

  The restaurant I had in mind was at least a 20-minute drive away, and it took Vivienne that long to settle down about missing her meeting.

  “You don’t understand,” she had said. “I don’t miss things. I’m never late for anything. I’m a responsible adult, for Chrissake.”

  “Take it easy,” I teased. “You’re human, aren’tcha? You don’t have to be perfect.”

  “I didn’t say I was perfect,” she muttered.
>
  I raised an eyebrow at her. “Tomato, toe-mah-toe. Look, if you want to skip dinner, we can. I’ll take you right back to the hotel or to your agent’s office. I don’t want you freaking out all night.”

  Vivienne got very quiet and I watched her bite and chew on her bottom lip as she gazed out the window. When she took a deep breath and exhaled, I thought she would agree and ask to go back to the hotel. Instead, she surprised me, and herself, I think.

  “No. It’s done and over with. Jake’s waited this long, he can wait a little longer. I asked you to dinner because I wanted to.”

  “Don’t lie, I heard your stomach growling.”

  Vivienne giggled softly.

  “Well, there is that. What difference does it make if I get my ass chewed now or later?”

  “Good point.”

  I took Vivienne to Café Gratitude, thinking it would be low key, but recognized my mistake immediately. The paparazzi had the place staked out. Someone more famous than me had to be inside. When we arrived, I climbed out of the car for the valet to park it and Vivienne slid out of her seat, clueless as to what was about to happen. As I hopped around the front of the car to get to her side, the sound of clicking cameras filled the air like machine gun fire. I was pretty practiced at ignoring it all, or throwing a smile and high sign to the photogs, but Vivienne froze like a deer in headlights. Feeling my presence, she sealed herself to my side and I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She pressed against me and turned her face into my chest as I speed-walked her to the door of the restaurant.

  Once we got inside, she seemed to relax because the shutter sounds disappeared and the people inside didn’t pay any attention to us. The other patrons were used to seeing celebrities, so my mug didn’t give them pause, if they even recognized me. Jennifer Skarsgaard and Luke Framingham were the reason the paparazzi were swarming the place. I asked for a quieter table in the back so she could forget about the scene on the way in.