by Melody Grace
She tasted like pure heaven.
And damn, I wanted more.
Now, it’s the sharp pull of lust I feel in my bloodstream, blocking out the show. I can still see the look on her face when I came up for air; her hazel eyes dilated, woozy, her perfect lips swollen and pink. She was gasping, breathless, clinging to me with her lush curves molded tight against my body.
Hell, I would have taken her right there if I had the chance. Just hiked up that sinful black silk and buried myself deep inside of her. Shown her what a moan of pleasure could feel like falling from her lips; how her body could have taken flight under my hands; my hungry touch.
But then she walked away.
Not walked, run, for dear life, like she hadn’t just been trembling in my arms. I can’t remember the last time a woman turned me down. Not since our debut album went platinum, hell, not for a long while before then either.
She wanted me, I could tell, but still, she ran.
I had my set-list all planned out, but frustration courses through me now, and I discard the next couple of numbers off the top of my head. I’d planned to ease into it slowly, give them some classics, let me get warmed up. But I’m all wound up from the memory of her silken skin and fuck, that little gasping noise she made when I shoved her back against the wall, so I pick a fast number, something staccato and driving, to get the crowd moving. Usually I’d have the guys backing me up, bass and drums and lead guitar, but I’m all alone up here so I just tear into the melody on my own, pouring myself into the rhythm and the wild beat, needing to drive that girl from my mind before she screws me off my game for good.
That’s when I glimpse the flash of red in the crowd. Hair the color of burning copper; vivid in the dark.
A pair of hazel eyes, staring at me wide with shock and disbelief.
Perfect lips rounded in a silent ‘o’.
It’s her. She’s here.
And suddenly, the distance falls away; that detachment shatters around me on the stage. I'm in the moment, natural as breathing, feeling the music flowing through me, just the way it always does; the spotlight, like sunlight on my skin.
This is what I was made to do.
It all fades away, until the only people in the world are the two of us, suspended in this moment. Me and her and the music. It takes me over, just the way it should, hot and dark, buzzing with restless memories and tightly-coiled desire. I fix on her, only her, those eyes shining like beacons in the crowd, calling me home.
I put it all in the music, Singing everything to her -- channeling the song like a seduction, that no girl on this fucking earth could ever resist.
I'm on a mission now, and nothing’s going to stop me.
I'm going to make her mine.
4.
DEX
The crowd is still on its feet, demanding another encore when I hand my guitar off and climb down from the makeshift stage. My heart is pumping, adrenalin like a live wire, and all I want is to find her again.
"That was amazing!"
"You're like, the best!"
The crowd surges forwards, desperate for a word or a touch, and suddenly it comes back to me -- how much I hate what comes next, the moment the spotlight fades away. This: the grabbing, the excited squeals. Everyone feeling like they deserve a piece of me, like just because they know the words to my songs, have seen some photos in the tabloid magazines, that somehow it means they know me.
"Sorry," I growl, fighting through the scrum. I look for the girl, but she's nowhere in the crowd.
“We came all the way from Asheville,” a fan gasps. “Can you sign my shirt, please?”
Dammit. I scribble across her back with the sharpie she thrusts into my hands, and try to keep my cool. “Thanks for coming out,” I push on, searching frantically. "Sorry, I've really got to go."
I catch a glimpse of that red hair, disappearing through the front exit.
It’s her.
I fight my way through the crowd without stopping, emerging through the doors in a rush. I look around. There she is, over on the sidewalk, her arm already up to hail a cab.
She’s leaving.
“Wait!” I yell, my head still spinning. I figured after that performance, she’d stick around for sure. Maybe she's not the kind of chick who hangs out by the stage door begging for an autograph -- and more -- but after the performance I just gave, all for her, I don't know why she's already got one foot off the curb like she can't wait to get away.
“Hold up!” I reach her, out of breath. I'm sweating and still wired from the show, but I’m struck dumb all over again by how beautiful she is. Not teased and buried under layers of makeup and hair product, no, this girl is all natural: barely any makeup, her hair tumbling free over a simple black dress.
Her eyes widen. “It’s you,” she gasps.
I grin. "It's me." I take a step closer. "I didn’t get your name before. I’m Dex.”
She pauses. “Alicia,” she answers shyly.
Alicia... I roll it around my head, already wondering how it would rhyme. “A pleasure to meet you. Did you like the show?"
I'm surprised to find I'm nervous, waiting for her response, and relief washes over me in a swift wave when she gives me a bashful smile and nods.
"I can't believe I didn't recognize you before." She looks away. "You must think I'm such an idiot."
"Not at all." Her hair is still falling free -- free from where I tugged it from its neat braid -- and I can't help but reach out to push a silken lock back from her face.
She startles under my touch, her eyes rising to meet mine again in surprise. There's something so honest and pure in her gaze that I hesitate. My usual charming lines feel wrong and fake. Instead, I take a chance. I tell her the truth.
"I think you're beautiful," I say softly. "I want to get to know you better."
Alicia steps back. Caution skitters in her gaze. "I'm sorry," she says quickly. "Before... That wasn't me."
"It felt like you to me." I take her hand this time, curling my fingers around to stroke her delicate palm. Just touching her makes me feel calmer. The madness of performing melts away, and I realize in a shock that I can’t imagine letting her go. Already, the connection is that strong; her small hand made to fit into mine. "What do you say we get out of here?"
Alicia shakes her head quickly, her hair falling in a veil over her face. Burning copper, the brightest sunset sky. I could write whole albums about that hair, her face, those lips...
"I can't."
What?
I stare at her in confusion, trying to figure this out. She wants me, she feels this too. She has to! The heat between us when she kissed me back there, that was one in a million chemistry, and I should know. I must have kissed a hundred girls, and never felt anything like it.
So what's holding her back? Why is she so scared to take a chance on me?
“Is there someone else?” I ask quietly.
Her hazel eyes flare. "What? No! No," Alicia gulps. "What kind of woman would kiss you if she was…? If she had someone?"
I have to smile at her morals. "Plenty,” I point out. “It never seems to matter to the girls I meet.”
Married, single, engaged - it makes no difference to how fast they open their legs or throw themselves at my feet.
This girl is different though. Alicia gives me a look, part scolding. "Then you're meeting the wrong kind of girls."
I chuckle. "So show me what I've been missing out on, sweetheart. Say the word, and we’ll go get a drink, whatever you want," I offer, trying to hide my desperation. I don't know why, but getting her to come with me is suddenly the most important thing in the world. If I let her go, if she turns and walks away again, I know. I'll never get her back.
I can't lose her, not after a kiss like that.
Just then, the doors of the restaurant swing open again, and a group of people spills outside. Couples together, laughing and joking with familiar ease. "Alicia!" they call to her. "You coming?"
Alicia’s face changes
. Some emotion flashes across her face, a pain that could break my heart in two. Then, just as suddenly, it's gone.
"OK," she says suddenly, turning back to me. Her jaw is set in determination, a new fierce spark in her eyes. “Lets go. Anywhere but here.”
I want to know what changed her mind, but I know better than to ask. I grab her hand and pull her towards my bike, my heart pounding like I just stepped out on stage at Madison Square Gardens. The reasons don’t matter, all I care about is right here with me now.
I have one night. One night with this exquisite angel.
I'm going to make it count.
5.
ALICIA
What the hell am I doing?
I cling on to Dex for dear life: my arms wrapped around his waist, pressed intimately against his body as the motorcycle weaves fast through downtown.
The city lights flash past us in a neon blur¸ bright and electric as the adrenalin pumping through my veins. I can feel every rumble of the engine echo up through my body as I hold on tight to the solid muscle of the stranger between my thighs.
Not a stranger, I correct myself in disbelief. Dex Callahan. The rock-star. The legend.
The man who wouldn’t let me walk away.
I take a shaking breath, the wind whipping around me as we speed through the city. Under the helmet, everything sounds muffled, until I can only hear my heartbeat pounding a scolding mantra with every mile, feel the contours of his body through his leather jacket as I cling on for dear life.
This is crazy. I’m crazy.
No, a voice scolds me. You’re alive.
When Dex finally pulls the bike to a stop, I’m surprised to feel a flash of disappointment.
“Pretty fun, right?” Dex laughs, lifting the helmet from my head.
I shake out my hair, wondering how much of a mess I look. “Motorcycles are dangerous,” I say, instead of admitting just how good that just felt.
He smirks. “Welcome to life on the edge, darlin’. I knew it would look good on you.”
I blush, looking away. Now we’re far from the party, and all the reasons I had to run, I’m reminded just how far out of my depth I am with a man like him. He’s probably used to groupies and daredevils -- rock chick girls who wouldn’t think twice about leaving a party with a man they’ve never met before, not some ordinary girl whose head is still spinning just from a motorcycle ride across town.
“Where are we?” I take in our surroundings; an exclusive apartment block in the arts district across town. There’s a marble lobby gleaming inside, and a doorman poised to help us through the glass doors.
I catch my breath, feeling a sudden panic. He brought me straight to his place? He thinks we’re going to...? “I didn’t mean--” I stutter. “When I said, we should get out of there--” I stop, my face burning up with embarrassment.
“What?” Dex looks confused. Then realization dawns. “No, sweetheart. I wanted to show you something, that’s all.”
He beckons me to follow him inside.
“Like your bedroom?” I ask cautiously, starting to follow. “Because I told you before--”
“You’re not that kind of girl,” Dex finishes, smiling. “I know. But, I’m going to let you in on a little secret.” He drops to a whisper, leaning in close enough for me to feel his body, hot against mine.
“You want to be.”
I gasp. It’s just a moment, the briefest whisper of heat, and then he steps away again, heading inside.
I watch him walk away, my heart pounding. This is a dangerous game, I can already tell, but as if possessed by some foreign force, my feet are already following him inside, over to the elevator.
“Going up.” He hits the button for the top floor, and the doors close. We’re alone in the small space.
He lounges against the wall opposite me, his eyes traveling slowly over my body from head to feet. I catch my breath, feeling my skin prickle with awareness under his gaze.
The floors swoop past. The silence stretches. Dear lord, he looks good in those jeans.
“Have you lived here long?” I blurt. Right away, I feel dumb. Way to go with the small-talk, Alicia.
“A few months,” Dex replies, his lips curling in a private smile. “I have a place out by the beach I spend most of my time.”
“Isn’t the rock scene more out in LA or New York?” I ask, curious. It seems strange to have such a big star hiding away out here.
“It is,” Dex replies simply. “But I’m not.”
He leaves it at that, so I don’t press, but privately I wonder what the story is. For the first time, I wish I paid more attention to the gossip magazines the other girls would leave around the office. I know he was in a huge band, and then quit a while back, but aside from that, I’m in the dark.
What secrets is he hiding? What’s going on behind that dark-eyed stare?
Finally, we reach the top floor with a ‘ding!’
“You’re not scared of heights, are you?” Dex checks, as he leads me into a hall.
“No, why?” I ask.
He doesn’t reply, just pushes through a door marked ‘emergency exit.’ I follow him outside, and whatever I was about to say fades from my lips.
“Wow,” I breathe, staring out at the most incredible view I’ve ever seen.
We’re on the rooftop of the building, high above the city downtown. Other office blocks and buildings rise up around us, lit up in a glitter of neon against the dark night. The stars are bright overhead, as clear as the headlights on the highway below.
I drift to the edge of the roof and look down, holding tight to the railing. Dozens of stories beneath us, I can see the bright trail of red lights, people on the sidewalks, the bustle of the city so far out of reach.
“This is incredible.” I turn to Dex, grinning in amazement. “It’s so beautiful up here. How did you find it? Are we even allowed to be here?”
Dex waves away my concern. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He joins me at the edge of the roof, gazing out at the view. “I love it up here. It’s so peaceful, you know? When I’m down there in the middle of things, it feels like everything’s piling up on top of me. But here... I can take a step back, and just breathe.”
I look at him with fresh eyes. It hadn’t occurred to me that Dex had anything weighing on his mind, but now I see he needed an escape from that party just as much as I did.
As if reading my mind, Dex looks over at me. “Why were you crying?” he asks softly. “When you came out into the alley...”
I cringe. “I wasn’t crying,” I lie quickly. “I just had something in my eye.”
Dex doesn’t look as if he believes me, but to my relief, he doesn’t press it. Instead, he changes the subject. “So tell me about yourself.” He keeps his dark gaze fixed on me, filled with naked curiosity. “Who are you, Alicia?”
“Who am I?” I echo. “Just... me.”
The words are automatic on my lips. It’s a reply I’ve been giving more and more these days. To the landlord, the delivery men, the cable guy. Yes, I live alone. No, there’s nobody else.
Just me.
“I work in consultancy,” I add, trying to pull myself together. I’m a successful career woman, aren’t I? The one all my friends envy for having her life running so smoothly and put together. “I partner with artists and designers, help them run the business side of things.”
Dex laughs. “We do need help with that stuff.”
I smile. “Tell me about it. You creative folks would barely make a dollar if you were left to your own devices.”
“So you’re the girl who keeps everyone taken care of.” Dex nods. “What about you? Who takes care of you?”
My smile fades. I shiver, feeling that old familiar tug of loneliness. The shard of ice that slices through everything, impossible to forget. I can block it out with work; drinks with friends, a late-night movie, but it always comes creeping back in the end.
The ache of being alone. Of seeing my friends, so full of
love and intimacy, but knowing I can’t have the happiness they’ve found.
At least, not with the man I love.
“I’m sorry.” My distress must have shown, because Dex moves closer, touching my arm in gentle sympathy. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s fine.” I paste on a bright smile. “I take care of myself just fine!”
“I can tell.” Dex’s gaze lingers on me, so I cross the roof, checking out the view from the other side. Traffic blurs in a stream of lights below me, a bright grid in the dark night.
I can’t help but wonder if he’s down there right now. What he’s doing. How he feels.
I let out a sigh, wishing I could just forget him. Wake up one morning not even remembering his name, instead of it being the first one on my lips, my last thought at night.
How much longer are you going to waste your life, thinking about someone who doesn’t feel the same as you? How many more years will pass you by, while you’re hung up on this stupid unrequited crush?
I told Dex that I wasn’t with anyone, but that was only half the truth. Is it a lie if my heart is with him, even if he doesn’t know it?
“Alicia.”
Dex’s voice is low behind me. I turn. Just the sight of him -- his eyes dark in the dim light, leather jacket slung over his tight muscles -- sends all thoughts of another man scattering from my mind. He couldn’t be more different. Something about his presence is so dominating, his quiet power demanding attention, I can’t help but have all my senses filled by him, just him, right here.
“What’s going on in there?” he asks, reaching to gently touch me on the temple. “If you’d rather be somewhere else right now...”
“No,” I answer before thinking, but then I realize it’s true. For whatever reason, being here with Dex feels right somehow -- like we’re alone on top of the world.
If I could ever forget my heartache, it’s right here, right now.
“I’m sorry, I was miles away. Forgive me.”
Dex looks at me with a curious, heavy-lidded stare. “I can’t figure you out, Alicia,” he says softly, my name drawling like honey from his lips. It’s a sexy sound, possessive, and it sends a shiver down my spine.