The song was passionate. Magical. Every face in the room stood silent to watch her, every time she played. When Philip was satisfied with the portion she’d been working on, and we moved on to the Adagio portion, I longed to hear her again. I could have listened to her play all day, without rest. As soon as she’d taken her seat in her chair, her face turned towards mine. Just for a second we maintained our focus on one another, before I had to look away.
I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
The three weeks of rehearsals before the summer series went by in a blur, with days full of practice, and nights spent with Miranda and Timothy. Much of the show was full of songs I knew well, that I had practiced growing up in lessons. A few, like Brahms Violin Concerto, had surprised me. Despite my debut in the orchestra, Philip had planned a popular piano piece near the end of the show that I’d been working on furiously. Beethoven’s Piano Concerto was a familiar melody for even those who didn’t often attend shows like the ones at the Philharmonic.
It started with a booming, rapid introduction from the pianos. Emerson and I both played, harmonically, with one another. The song spanned the entire length of the keys, just about every note touched within the first minute. Everything was accentuated. It was one of those songs I could feel vibrating within me, long after it was over. I didn’t miss notes. There were none to miss.
After a few short measures, the entire orchestra fell in behind the pianos, briefly, before another small piano break began. Short. More relaxed and calm. Then the group came in again, this time taking over. Rapid bowing of strings, the calling of the winds playing the enchanting and familiar melody. The strings softened for a minute, humming to the various other instruments in the room.
Philip danced with his baton to this song unlike any other song we played. It was such an emotive song, changing from a booming melody to a soft singing of gentle strings, back and forth, constantly. Four minutes in, the piano picked up again. Emerson had let me play the melody while he played harmony.
The runs over the keys were intense. They switched from allegro to adagio, from forte to piano, so quickly, if you weren’t concentrating, it was easy to mess up. Combined with the falling in and out of the orchestra, it made for an intense debut piece.
I’d stayed late the last Monday of rehearsals to practice the piano portion. Often the theater was quiet and emptied out, allowing me the ability to not feel so self-conscious. I knew the piece backwards and forwards, but the idea of having my own solo portions as a new musician made me nervous.
Emerson had left a few minutes prior. It was just me with the pianos. There were a few straggling musicians in the wings, and some custodians cleaning up the theater, but I was nearly alone. It was as good of a time as any to practice. I spread out the sheet music along the stand on the piano, flattening it. While I suspected I wouldn’t need it, it was always good to have. Especially when refining my technique, as I was intending to do.
I ran through the first bit of music in my head before the piano part began, imagining the different components of the orchestra. As soon as the piano started, I fell into the keys, the chords and various notes echoing through David Geffen Hall. I didn’t play timidly, accentuating each portion the way it was meant to sound, regardless of who heard.
Every once in a while, I’d look up across the room to the wings. They were emptied out, nearly everyone having left for the day. It was near dinner, so it was expected. My nerves had kept me from being too hungry. I must have played at least an hour before I looked up and nearly fell from my seat in surprise.
Juliet had been waiting, watching me. She was alone, I wasn’t quite sure where Kira was. There was a bag tucked under her arm. Even after having seen her these past few weeks, I hadn’t gotten used to her hair and the way it fell at her shoulders now.
Once I’d turned my attention toward her, she moved across the stage. She paused in front of the piano, the two of us looking at one another. “Are you hungry?” The question caught me off guard. I hadn’t been expecting it. As soon as I thought about it, my stomach rumbled. Juliet nodded for me to follow her, and the two of us went to the edge of the stage. After Juliet had taken a seat on the lip, letting her feet dangle off the side, I followed suit. She dug through the bag she’d brought with her, fishing out a Styrofoam container and handing it off to me.
“How did you know I was here?” I asked her curiously, taking the carton. When I opened it, I found a fish dinner from Juliet’s favorite steakhouse. One she’d taken me to on several occasions. It had been my favorite meal there. I was surprised she’d remembered.
“You’ve been staying late most nights,” Juliet replied. “Though I don’t quite understand why. You’ve been playing it exceptionally for weeks now. You have nothing to worry about.”
“It’s a big performance,” I replied as Juliet handed me some plastic silverware. Without reservation, I dug into the food. We ate in silence for a while, Juliet enjoying a salad. When I finally paid attention again, I noticed she’d been watching me. “What?” I asked.
“Is it as good as you remember?” Juliet asked, nodding to my food.
I gave her a strange sort of look, unsure of how to reply. Wondering what exactly her motive had been in bringing me food in the first place, especially from a place we’d used to go to. I contemplated on what to say for a long moment, until I finally just nodded.
Juliet looked pleased. We finished off the rest of our meals, and she disposed of our containers in the bag they had come in. Afterward, we remained along the edge of the stage. A place that, in the span of a few weeks, had seemed as natural of a place for me as any.
“You shouldn’t be buying me food,” I said quietly, when we both had turned our attention back to one another. I had appreciated the gesture, but I wasn’t sure how she had meant it to come across. My irritation reminded me of how I’d sounded when she’d offered to buy my textbooks all those years ago.
Instead of arguing with me, Juliet offered a shrug. I shook my head, looking back out towards the seats in the theater. It was a shame I wouldn’t be playing my first show in David Geffen Hall, but I was excited nonetheless. Every rehearsal closer to the shows made me all the more anxious for it to start.
“What do you tell yourself?” I finally asked. Juliet seemed lost in thought, but returned her focus quickly. She looked confused so I continued, “I mean, before shows. What did you tell yourself when you were nervous?”
It had likely been years since Juliet had ever been nervous playing a performance, I decided. I found quickly that I was wrong. “I think of my grandmother,” Juliet admitted, her body stretching straighter. “Focusing on something outside of the show. It allows you to relax yourself. Clear your mind.” Her answer surprised me. An answer that had been more intimate than I was expecting. I nodded, unable to fathom words to reply with. “Though, I doubt you have anything to worry about. You never struck me as the type to get nervous.”
“Oh, I get nervous.” I laughed. “You should have seen how nervous I got for my Bard audition. I nearly fainted walking out on that stage. Especially knowing such a prodigy was on the panel...” My voice trailed off. Juliet took a second to finally realize I’d been referring to her. “I’m just really good at hiding it.”
“Evidently,” Juliet agreed. “Though you certainly have nothing to worry about. You’re an exceptional musician. You shouldn’t doubt that you were meant to be here. We all knew from the start you’d be performing wherever you wanted.” By ‘we all’ I assumed Juliet meant Timothy, Miranda, Emerson, and the rest of the small group of friends.
I couldn’t help but offer a thankful smile. As many emotions that I’d felt for her, all I could feel right now was contentment. Gratitude. Happiness that I could spend moments like this again with her. For the longest time I’d imagined that we’d never have them again. Yet here we were, picking up as naturally as how we’d left off.
Finally, Juliet spoke, “Think of your father.” there was a flash of emotion in he
r eyes. When she said it, I felt my heart sink into my chest. I thought of him all the time. Though it had been a while since his passing, it still took my breath away when he came into my thoughts. I fought the tears welling up in my eyes.
Juliet must have noticed my reaction. Before I could stop her, her hand had wrapped around mine in a swift gentle motion. It was a gesture to show she cared. Not as intimate as weaving our fingers together. Just her hand clasped around my palm, holding it against the floor. Squeezing it softly. “I’m sorry.” I watched her lips move, letting a long breath of air escaped me. “I know how much he meant to you.”
As soon as she said it, I lost all self-control. A soft sob released from me, and I found myself falling against her shoulder. My arms wrapped around her neck. Juliet pulled me close. I felt her embrace, hands falling against my back. She stroked me gently as she rested her cheek against the top of my head. Juliet allowing me to let myself go without any questions or attempts to calm me. Once I’d managed to catch my breath again, I pulled away from her, and she released me gently. My hands went to my face, wiping away stray tears. “I miss him,” I admitted. It was more than just missing, really. It was ailing for him. All the time. Between him and her, I wasn’t quite sure how I’d kept my sanity the past few years.
“I know,” Juliet replied. There was a silent conversation between us in the moments that followed after her speaking. I could tell by the look in her eyes she wanted to do more. For the barrier between us not to exist. In that moment, I didn’t want it to exist either. When she’d asked with that simple look, I nodded. Immediately, her hands fell on the side of my face, gently stroking my cheeks. “I never stopped thinking about you.”
My body felt as if it was melting through the floor. My breath hitched in my throat. I sunk into her touch, my face leaning into one of her hands. A sigh finally escaped me. “I couldn’t either.” It was all I could manage to reply.
“I wish there was something more I could do than just apologize,” Juliet said. There was a pained look to her eyes. My attention fell into every detail of her. The way her shiny black locks fell around her long delicate face, accentuating her olive skin. The flickers of light reflecting off of her enchanting green eyes. Those pink lips that were calm and relaxed, and looked as inviting as they ever had. Every fiber of my being longed for her in that moment, as desperately as I had before.
“You could kiss me,” I breathed. Without a hesitation Juliet drew into me, in a perfect tilt of her head. It was as delicate and thoughtful as every bow of her violin. Her grip tightened on the sides of my face as we came together. The moment our lips grazed, an electrifying shock rippled through my entire length, and my body released an involuntary sigh. Our motions were soft and chaste at first, as if both of us were in disbelief that it was actually happening. I’d never craved a feeling like I craved the caress of Juliet’s lips. The way they moved and traced every outline of my own. They were so soft. So careful and detailed in the way that they moved against me.
The moment happened like a flip of a switch. Every pent up emotion either of us had been feeling finally poured from us. I pulled her to me as our pace quickened. Juliet’s tongue traced my lips in long delicate strokes, and my mouth opened and my grip tightened. My tongue raced to hers, and we began a fiery dance between our mouths. Like everything else we did, our actions spoke louder than our words. I tasted every crevice of her, savoring that woody scent I’d missed so desperately.
I didn’t ever want to pull away, fighting for this moment to last. When the final bits of air fell from my lungs, we separated, both of us panting. There was a heat burning through me. A hunger that was desperate to be tamed. I could tell by the expression on her face, Juliet felt the same. There wasn’t enough time to go somewhere different. There was barely enough time for us to move from the stage.
Against the wooden support beams that held the panels around the proscenium stage, Juliet drew into me, pressing our bodies together tightly. Our mouths fell together until we were breathless, and then we moved again. My vision became blurry from the heat inside me. Once we’d reached the east stairwell, we fell onto the steps, intertwining once more. I felt down the length of her, my hands firm and full of desperation. Those furious kisses came again and once we’d stolen breaths from one another, Juliet’s hand wrapped in my own.
We scattered up the remainder of the stairs, barely keeping from one another. The first door Juliet found, she opened. A box of seats on the third floor. As soon as I’d entered, I turned to watch her lock the door behind us. My body fell into hers, and I pushed her back against the wall. A gasp fell from her lips and the sight of it filled me. “I need you,” I breathed into the side of her face. In a swift motion, Juliet turned me, until I’d replaced her against the wall. There was a fiery blaze in those emerald eyes.
“Then have me.”
27
Juliet
Grieg, Holberg Suite
Beethoven’s Piano Concerto
Debussy, Clair de lune
EMMA’S MOUTH LEFT ME burning with fire, taking me with the seductive ravishment of her lips and tongue. There was no time for caution. I could feel her heartbeat pounding against me as her hands seared a path down the length of my body. Fingers raked under my blouse, desperate to touch familiar flesh again. I matched her urgency, my palms sliding beneath her loose cotton shirt, molding the curves of her breasts through the thin fabric of her undergarment. Feeling the soft peaks of her nipples tighten at my touch.
The moment I moved on her, she reciprocated, her delicate fingers tugging and squeezing. Playing me like a long forgotten instrument she’d been yearning for. We sang to one another in soft pants and gasps. Testing one another’s limits with each explorative motion we gave.
My entire body quivered with an untamable desire for fulfillment, my fingers trailing down her soft, dewy skin in lustful exploration. Emma’s breath hitched as my fingers trembled to open the button of her slacks. While my lips caressed the flesh of her throat, exposed as she rolled her head back against the wall, my hand dipped beneath layers of fabric, finding the familiar patch of hair at the apex of her thighs. The heat radiating from within her beat against my fingers as they dipped between the moist folds of her arousal. Emma’s face buried into my neck, her teeth sinking into the dip. I slid inside of her, holding nothing back. Emma’s breaths came in long, surrendering moans into my ear. My rhythm grew quickly as her body rocked up and down the wall, wanting all that I could give.
I watched her, drinking in the subtle twitches of her face, the ragged breaths and gentle moans she released as she gave herself to me, yielding to the searing need that had been building in us all this time.
Emma’s body trembled beneath me. She was close, I could tell by the quickness of her breath and the gentle tugs of her muscles squeezing around me. I pulled away, my dampened fingers wrapping around the edges of her slacks and they fell to her feet. Before I knew it, I was on my knees in front of her. Staring up into pools of brown that overrode everything else around me. Emma was too overwhelmed to speak, her hands weaving into my hair. My lips fell to the moist warm folds between her thighs, hungry and eager. Fingers took her again, delving into the delicate softness. I felt her buck and writhe as I worked, and reveled in the pleading, desperate sounds she emitted as she began to tremble. My free hand reached up to steady her as she fell against the wall. I could hear her whimpering my name, fingers tightening around locks of my hair.
I slowed as soon as I felt her relax, pulling away from her in a delicate motion. As soon as I did, Emma dropped to her knees, pushing me into the soft grey carpet flooring. Her lips recaptured my own, more demanding than ever. They stayed for mere seconds before I felt them on the skin of my cheek, making haste down the side of my neck.
Emma seemed to take great pleasure in arousing me, her fingers sliding underneath the elastic waistband of my pants. When she was greeted with the pulsing wetness, I heard her moan into my ear, lips clutching my earlobe betwe
en lips and teeth. She tugged and my hips bucked forward, letting her dainty fingers dip inside of me. There was no patience. No gentle caress. It was carnal and hungry and eager. My hips rocked with her long strong strokes.
A finger rolled over the swollen nub of my center, working in tandem with the rhythm she was building. Emma was panting as furiously as me, her hot breath radiating against the side of my cheek, chest heaving. Again, my name fell from her lips in pleading gasps. Each time, stronger than the last. Tremors spilled from every corner of my body. My eyes, which had been closed, taking in every sensation, finally opened to the sight of Emma’s gentle face staring down at me.
It was all I needed. Just her eyes were enough to release everything I’d been holding inside all this time. Her name fell one last time from my lips in a cry I was sure could have echoed through the entire theater, but in that moment, I didn’t care. A crescendo of blazing heat and pleasure beyond anything I could have imagined overcame me. My body shuddered over and over beneath her. All the while, our attentions never strayed.
The moment I relaxed, our faces collided, and I kissed her devouringly.
“Trés belle,” I breathed, when we parted. Emma’s eyes flashed at me.
“Take me with you,” she demanded, her fingertips tracing over my lips. She hadn’t had to ask. I would have taken her anywhere.
THE NEXT MORNING I awoke, tangled in the arms of the beautiful blonde that had overwhelmed me four years ago at her graduate school auditions. Emma was just as intoxicating now as she had been then. Her bangs fell messily over her forehead, arm stretched out in front of her. Those delicate fingers I adored twisted slightly around the edge of her pillow. She didn’t sleep for long, awoken by the long-overdue attention she so desperately deserved.
Before we left for the morning rehearsals, I found myself lost in the effortless conversation Emma and I usually managed. We talked about small things, details of our lives we’d missed over the past few years. It felt as if everything was normal again, back to the way it should have been. Until Emma caught me by surprise, with a name that I’d pushed from my mind since the moment I’d chosen to pursue her again. “Frederick.” The name hung, snatching the air from my throat. I wasn’t even quite sure what to say. “Does he know?”
Forbidden Melody Page 27