I saw him recognize my intention and realize how difficult it might be for me. "Amy, honey, you don't have to—"
"I want to." I did. I was terrified but I wanted to try. I had to know.
My eyes locked to his, I brought his hand closer to my mouth. The energy between us snapped like a lightning bolt, stronger as he neared my lips, setting my body on fire.
"Amy," he said in a half-groan.
I shivered at the desire in his voice and wrapped my mouth around his finger.
His other hand found the back of my neck again, but he didn't push me forward or anything like that. He would never have done that, and besides he didn't need to.
I loved having him in my mouth.
He tasted delicious, of course, but it went way beyond that. As I kissed and licked the icing from his skin, I kept my eyes on his and saw everything he was feeling, the same things I felt. Wonder and tenderness and the kind of hunger that makes the rest of the world fade away.
When the icing was gone, I wanted more of him. I turned his hand so I could slide the whole finger into my mouth, but a wave of fear hit me and I froze.
He folded his other fingers down, closing them over my hand. "Amy. You don't have to."
I squeezed his hand and such certainty flooded me that I couldn't hold back a grin. "I know. That's why I want to."
Knowing I did want to, I slid my mouth down over his finger, right to its base.
Nothing, nothing, had ever felt so good.
We held hands as I savored the feel of him and the amazing lack of fear or revulsion but eventually I needed more. Pulling back, letting him slip from my mouth, left my lips and tongue tingling like nothing I'd ever felt before. Wherever he'd been, I blazed with pure desire.
I raised my face to his.
His eyes were hot and hungry and full of emotion.
His kiss was the same.
I melted against him, lost in the beauty of it, and his mouth felt so good, so perfect on mine, that it took me a while to realize he wasn't using his tongue.
My heart melted as my body had. He didn't want to push me. But I wanted everything.
I murmured, "More. Please," against his lips.
He said, "Are you sure?" without breaking the kiss.
"So sure."
He drew me closer, holding me protectively against him, then gently took possession of my mouth.
For a single instant I tensed, afraid of how I might react, but before he could pull away the fear vanished in a flood of glorious passion. I knew all through me that I was safe with him, that this was right, and I pressed myself against him and kissed him with everything I hadn't given in eight years.
Time stopped as we stood locked together, and when his phone rang I actually gave a little scream.
He released me enough to grab the phone from his pocket. "I have to, that's Jo's ringtone. Don't want her coming up here."
"Definitely not."
He answered, and an evil whim made me bring his free hand back to my mouth and begin kissing and sucking each of his fingers in turn.
"Yup, we're getting a lot done, Jo," he said, his eyes locked on me. "Working like crazy." He gave a cough. "Out of breath? I don't think I am. We were just singing part of the new song so that might be why."
I giggled around his finger.
He gave me a mock glare then said sweetly, "Want to talk to Amy?"
I released him and shook my head frantically, sure she'd be able to tell what we'd really been doing from the passion and hunger in my voice, but he said, "Here you go," and handed me the phone with a smile as evil as my earlier whim.
I mouthed, "I'll kill you," at him then cleared my throat and said into the phone, "Hey, Jo."
Tim's mouth found my neck and the sensations swirling through me made it hard to hear Jo saying, "Everything okay up there?"
"Definitely."
"Good stuff. Don't let him give you too much lip, okay?"
I had to laugh. "I promise, he's not giving me too much lip."
He bit me lightly and I shuddered.
"All right. I look forward to hearing the new song. Think it'll be done by tomorrow?"
I couldn't think at all. "Um, maybe not. But soon. We're making good progress." Great progress.
She said goodbye and I closed the phone. "You jerk."
"You started it," he said against my neck.
"True. Now what?"
He pulled me close and kissed me again, deep and sweet and exactly what I wanted, and a long time passed before I finally made myself say, "We should probably be writing that song. She wants to hear it tomorrow."
His mouth slid across my cheek and down onto my neck. "You write. I'm busy."
I whimpered. "I can't think. I can barely stand up. How am I supposed to write?"
"Beats me."
I stood in his arms letting him nibble my neck and loving every second, but eventually said, "We could write a duet."
"Don't duet," he said against my skin, as he'd always said every time anyone mentioned a duet in his presence.
"That is an old lame joke, buddy. And you're going to pay by writing a duet with me."
"Told you, I'm busy."
I pried him off my neck. "For every line we write, I'll kiss you."
"Deal. Let's write fast."
"Deal."
We did. After a few moments of figuring out where to take the song, we decided, not surprisingly, on a man and woman starting their lives together. We did it with a twist, though: they weren't talking about giving up their old lives, but about becoming better people with each other's help. His line of "I'm keeping my head and my heart but I'll share them both with you" for the woman made me kiss him several times because I so loved that he wasn't expecting me to change to be with him.
We went back and forth, adding lines and kissing and sometimes forgetting to add lines for a few minutes, until after a particularly hungry kiss he gave the line, "But don't forget what really matters to you."
If he hadn't reacted, I wouldn't have thought anything of it. But before I could say, "I like it," he stiffened and his eyes widened. That, of course, made me wonder why he was having such a reaction to the perfect line for the song, and it further made me think of where I'd heard that line before.
Not heard. Read.
I stared at him. "It was you. Wasn't it?"
He brushed his hand over my hair. "Before we met I figured you were just like Jo's other pop stars but when I saw what you could do I was so impressed. I didn't want you to settle for 'good enough' songs, for songs that were more Misty than Amy. My first note came across all wrong so I—"
"That first one? The threatening-sounding one? That was you too?"
"It wasn't supposed to be a threat. I worded it badly." He chuckled. "Which is ironic, I guess. So after that I was more careful."
I swallowed hard. "Those faxes made me feel like I could keep going."
"They were supposed to."
I looked up into his gorgeous brown eyes, then pulled him close and kissed him long enough to pay for a career's worth of songs.
Chapter Forty
For our first real date, I took Tim out for dinner the next night using the free meals I'd been given by Kegan Underwood. Since I felt awkward seeing the chef at the place where I'd gone with Angel, we instead went to Steel, but to my embarrassment we'd only been there a few minutes when the tall dark-haired man I'd seen that night came into our private dining room.
"Amy, lovely to see you again." He shook my hand and smiled at Tim. "I'm Kegan. I'm glad you chose to take me up on my offer, and not just because it'll make my fiancée happy."
As Tim and Kegan shook hands, I said, "You don't mind the extra security?"
Kegan shrugged. "We've had you celebrity types here before. It's all good."
In contrast to Jason's hatred of my bodyguards, Tim was used to having security teams around. When I'd said we'd need to have one with us at the restaurant, sitting at the table nearest the entrance to our
dining room, he'd raised his eyebrows and said, "Yeah, of course."
I liked it, and I also liked how unconcerned he'd been about the pictures of me at the press conference smiling at what the articles called "Misty's possible new boyfriend", my eyes warm and soft and my face lit up with happiness. The photographers hadn't missed my delight, and several reporters had managed to spot Tim in the crowd and guess he was the target of my affection by the way he was smiling back at me. When we saw the pictures, Tim had just laughed and said, "You look adorable." I wouldn't lose him to stress over my fame.
"Enjoy your meals. And if you need anything, get your server to let me know. Got it?"
"Definitely."
Kegan smiled and left us.
Tim put his hand over mine. "Well, my lovely lady, how are you doing?"
I smiled at him. "It's funny. From yesterday evening I've just been in an amazing mood."
He made a shocked face. "What a coincidence, me too."
We laughed and leaned across the table to kiss.
After our incredible work/kissing session the night before, we'd been together nearly non-stop, splitting up only to sleep. I'd been on the brink of inviting him to stay at my place, but I didn't want to have sex with him yet and while I knew he'd never pressure me I didn't want any awkwardness around my intentions. The heat between us meant we'd sleep together sooner or later, and probably sooner, but for now I liked the sweetness of doing nothing but kissing. Lots of kissing.
We'd met early in the morning to have breakfast and finish the song, then we'd presented it to Jo. After agreeing I should record it, and further agreeing Angel's now-ex-boyfriend Evan would be a perfect duet partner, she'd looked back and forth between us and said, "I think I know why you came back, Tim. As long as it doesn't interfere with Misty's music, I think you guys are great together. Took you long enough, though. I've been expecting this for ages."
Tim and I had left and gone for lunch, giggling about how she'd known we were going to be together before we had. We'd spent a few hours at the private coffee shop, eating sandwiches and drinking coffee and talking about everything that had happened since we'd been apart and especially about the center. He understood my conflict at once, as I'd known he would, and agreed that I could and maybe should be using my fame for more than boosting the world-wide market for hot pink wigs.
"I get what you're saying, though. Being Misty would be hard to give up."
"Yeah." I sighed. "I really do think I'm meant to be Misty. It feels so right to me. But giving up Giselle's dream feels so wrong. I have the money now to start it and keep it going, so maybe I should?"
"You could fund it while someone else runs it, maybe?"
"That doesn't feel right either. The plan was to be actively involved. If I just throw money at it, it's not the same. I could definitely give money to something else, and if I don't do the center I will, but for this I want to be in it completely or not doing it at all." I shook my head. "I feel like I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. I can't be Misty forever but I can't give her up right now. But..." I sighed. "I'm stuck. I just keep circling around and can't figure it out."
He took my hand. "It's like when you're hunting for lyrics. You'll find the right path, the way to 'live out loud', eventually."
The way he emphasized his use of my song's title made me grin. "Thank you. I do want to live out loud."
"We'll figure it out."
Loving his use of "we", I kissed him and thanked him again for his support, then we headed out and spent several hours at his apartment kissing and snuggling until he had to go have coffee with his parents and I had my driver take me home so I could get dressed up for dinner.
Jo didn't like me to look like anyone but Misty in public, but I wanted to be myself with Tim. I spent a while trying to figure out how to reconcile this, then chose a long brown wig with red streaks and wore a more demure red outfit. I looked more like myself than I had in a while, and when my driver and I picked him up I could tell he appreciated it.
Now, as we sat at the table, I could also tell something was bothering him. I waited, as we chatted and ate an amazing meal, for him to share, but when he didn't I said, "So. What's wrong?"
To my delight, he didn't do that whole "nothing, I'm fine" bit Jason had often done. Instead, he said, "My parents. And that damn novel."
I squeezed his hand. "What's up with it?"
He shook his head. "The usual. I hate writing it, and today they were really pushing me to let them read it. But if I do, either they'll hate it and I'll feel bad, or they'll love it and think I should keep going, and I'll feel bad about that because I don't want to."
Understanding the dilemma between what he wanted to do and what he thought he should do all too well, I raised his hand to my mouth and kissed it.
A fairly innocent gesture for most couples, but not for us, and his eyes sparked with passion. "I will never forget that, you know. Last night."
I squeezed his hand. Breaking through, in such an amazing fashion, eight years of inhibition? "Trust me, I won't either."
Chapter Forty-One
"This is a huge opportunity for you. Great visibility."
Too much visibility. That was the problem. "Yes, I know, but—"
"I could find a thousand girls who'd do anything to take your place." He pulled his phone from his pocket and pointed it at me. "Should I call one?"
I wavered. Jo had been ecstatic that I'd been asked to perform on the live broadcast of the MusicStation awards show, and she'd be horrified if I backed out now, five minutes before it started. Of course, neither of us had known what they'd ask of me. "Can't we do it without..." I couldn't say it.
I didn't need to, of course, since he knew what he'd just told me. He'd done it on purpose, waited until I was backstage and ready to go, without Tim and Cindy and my makeup and wardrobe people or anyone else to support me, before dropping his plan on me: let Marian, the up-and-coming pop star Jo had found after me, 'accidentally' rip off part of my top in an echo of that Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction. He'd assured me the flesh-colored bodysuit I wore beneath my costume would stay put, but I'd seen enough of what the gossip sites posted to know nobody would believe I hadn't really been naked.
He smoothed his nearly non-existent hair. "No, Misty, we can't. I only told you so you wouldn't get upset on stage. But feel free to look surprised. It's all set. Marian's agreed."
Of course she had. This would be nothing to her.
It was everything to me. Janet's career and reputation had been crushed by that one incident, and besides I didn't want my fans seeing me do something like that. Letting someone maul me just to keep a job?
I took a deep breath. "I won't do it."
He rolled his eyes. "Fuck off, then." He pushed a button on his phone. "Plan B. Misty's out."
*****
By the time I made it out of the twisty basement halls of the MusicStation studio with my shocked and angered entourage and my cell phone could get a signal, the show had already started and Jo had sent me multiple furious "what the hell" messages since I wasn't on-stage as she'd expected.
Tim and I slipped into the back seat of my car, not responding to the fans asking why I was leaving. What could we possibly say? The driver whisked us away and I leaned into Tim. "I'd better call Jo."
He pulled me close. "Once she calms down, she'll understand."
He knew our boss well. She raged at me at first, and I let her since I couldn't see a way to stop her. Eventually she ran down enough that I could say, "Can I tell you what he wanted me to do?"
"Yup."
I found it hard to say, but Tim's arm around me gave me strength. "He told Marian to rip off my top."
Silence. Then... "Wardrobe malfunction?"
"Yeah. I couldn't do it."
She sighed. "No, you couldn't. Well, he'll make your replacement do it and everyone will know why you quit."
Except he didn't. Tim and I went back to my apartment to watch the show, which I'd
been recording so I could see it afterwards, and when Marian came out, to huge applause, to chat with the new singer they'd brought in to replace me, the girls simply hugged and carried on with the show.
I stared at Tim. "I don't understand."
He winced. "I do. He's going to make you look stupid for quitting."
Unfortunately, my new boyfriend was as smart as he was a good kisser. Near the end of the show the producer took the stage, smoothed his almost bald head, and said, "Now, I know you're all looking forward to seeing Misty tonight."
My throat tightened as my fans burst into screams and applause at my name.
He let them calm down, then said, "I hate to do this to you but I'm afraid she's not able to perform."
Over their shock he said, "Don't worry, she's not sick. Just... well, let's say she just can't be here."
The camera lingered on the confused and sad faces of my fans.
"That jerk. He's making me sound like I decided to quit. Which I guess I did, but—"
Tim shook his head. "I'm hearing 'drunk or on drugs', personally."
I grabbed the remote and rewound the broadcast. When I'd heard the producer's words again, and watched his supposed discomfort with what he had to say, I said, "You're right. I have to call—"
My phone rang as I reached for it. "Jo. I was going to—"
"Need you here. Now. We're going to do a video response. He can't make you sound like a drunk and get away with it."
"I'm on my way."
I changed out of the jeans and t-shirt I'd put on when we got home and back into my Misty outfit and wig, then we headed to Sapphire Angel and I was soon on-camera explaining exactly what I'd been asked to do and why I hadn't felt it sent the right message to my fans.
Our video went live at eleven o'clock, just as the awards show finished its broadcast, and we all sat in the conference room monitoring various web sites to see what people thought.
It was immediately clear what the producer thought: he posted a statement on the MusicStation site to say I hadn't been asked any such thing and that he was sad and disappointed that I'd choose to lie like that.
Unfortunately for him, Marian spilled the whole story right away when reporters outside the studio asked her about my absence and what I'd said in the video. She looked awkward and uncomfortable but admitted that she'd been going to strip me on stage, and also give me an open-mouthed kiss and grab my crotch, two things the producer must somehow have forgotten to mention to me.
Toronto Collection Volume 2 (Toronto Series #6-9) Page 20