Can't Stop the Music (The Soul Mate Tree Book 2)

by C. D. Hersh

The music eased into slower-paced, smooth, blues sounds.

  “Knock them off, then.” She pulled his face to hers and kissed him, running her hands over his bare chest.

  He slid his hands behind her back, snapping open her bra hooks with one, as the other drew her underwear lower and lower. His lips left hers and trailed down her body, following his hands. When the fabric slid below her hip, baring her most private parts to him, she gasped. He drew the clothing completely off her and laid her on the couch, scooting her onto her side. After shedding his briefs, he climbed onto the couch beside her, his hands roaming over her flesh.

  The music changed, returning to the pounding beat. Guitar riffs sounded in harmony with the trills of passion and desire crescendoing over her as he teased and pleasured her.

  In the distant reaches of her passion-fogged brain, she heard the song change. Hendrix began his medley. As the music crashed and wild guitar riffs rippled madly over the scales, she gave in to the dark fire and the passion filling her heart and soul. Like a crazed lover on acid, she pressed herself against Anthony, flesh touching flesh everywhere, hungering for more contact with this beautiful man, for whom she had so long ached.

  As Jimi’s song morphed into ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ Anthony whispered, “You’ve put a spell on me.” His mouth, close to her ear, blocked out the wild music. “A spell I don’t want to escape. I want you, Rose.”

  For a split second, she wondered if she was dreaming, because she’d dreamt of making love with Dakota many, many times.

  Kissing her again, he murmured, “I want you to be the soul of my life, Rose.”

  She stiffened. Soul of my life? That’s what the tree had promised her. Why would he use that phrase? Unless . . .

  He must have felt her hesitation, because he pulled away and stared at her. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

  Urging him on top of her, she whispered, “Yes. I’ve wanted you ever since Woodstock.”

  With a groan that sounded as if it came from deep in his soul, he entered her, filling her body and heart as they matched the chaotic rhythms of the music rolling from the record player.

  When they were both finally spent, he rolled to the edge of the couch and pulled the afghan over her goose-bumped flesh. As the last chords of ‘Purple Haze’ reverberated through the room, she gazed at Anthony. His half-closed eyes mirrored the passion in her heart.

  The swish, swish, swish of the needle on the edge of the record sounded.

  He started to move. “I should get that.”

  “Don’t leave me,” she whispered.

  “But the record. It could be ruined,” he protested.

  “I don’t care if it is. The record represents memories of you and Woodstock. I’ve got the real thing here.” She settled against the V of his chest and arm. “And I’m not letting you go.”

  Chapter 15

  Anthony eased away from Rosemary’s warm flesh. A tiny smile creased her face.

  Was she dreaming about last night?

  Gently he kissed her forehead and slipped from under the afghan. Retrieving his pants from the floor where he’d dropped them, he pulled them on. Then he made his way to the kitchen.

  Birds chirped outside, their melodies filling the morning air. He brushed the café window curtain aside, searching the backyard for the source of the song. A streak of pink slashed the blue morning sky. In the center of the treeless lawn, scarlet cardinals, red-breasted robins, and bright yellow goldfinches with black-tipped wings clustered around a feeder. Flowerbeds filled with color bordered the yard’s chain link fence.

  Whistling a harmony to the birdsong, he poked around in the cabinets until he found coffee. After starting a strong pot, he cleared the table of last night’s uneaten meal. As he placed the last dish in the drainer, Rosemary appeared in the kitchen doorway, the afghan wrapped around her.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

  He grinned at her rumpled appearance. “Good morning, Star Shine.” Then he began singing Oliver’s hit song.

  She giggled when he sang the nonsense chorus and ran her finger through her disheveled hair. “I must look a mess.”

  He crossed to where she stood and enfolded her in his arms. “You look like a woman who has been well pleasured.” He lowered his mouth to her shoulder and kissed her. A shudder ran over her. That pleased him to no end. He nibbled his way over her flesh, up her neck, to her mouth. When he deepened the kiss her arms circled his neck, the afghan sliding to her waist. He cupped her breasts in his hands.

  She groaned and yanked up the coverlet. His hands blocked its progress. She pressed her hips against his. Need flooded through him as he responded to her touch. He cupped her butt, urging her closer.

  “Don’t,” she whispered.

  The single word threw cold water on the fire of his passion, and he drew away. “Why? Have you changed your mind about us?”

  “We’re going to be late for school. Why didn’t you wake me?”

  He grinned at her. “It’s Saturday. We don’t have school.” He pulled her close to him.

  She gave him a disoriented stare.

  “If you don’t remember what day it is, guess I knocked off more than your panties. Does that happen every time you have an orgasm?”

  She arched a brow. “That, has never happened before.”

  “Losing the date or the other?” His tone teased, but he hoped she’d confirm the latter. He wanted to be the first one to introduce her to real passion. And he wanted to do it over and over with her.

  She dipped her head, peering at him through her lashes. The coquettish action made him want to throw her to the floor and pleasure her all over.

  “If you must know, the answer is neither.” Her face blushed pink. “And I very much liked it, so since it’s not a school day . . .” She dropped the afghan to the floor, exposing her naked body.

  It took every ounce of willpower he had not to throw her to the kitchen’s vinyl tile and ravish her. Instead, he let his gaze roam over her, taking in every curve and dip of her flesh. As he studied her, her nipples pebbled and a blush traveled downward, matching the course of his examination. Her reaction turned his need into something unbearable. He slowly unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to the floor, offering her the same courtesy she’d given him. As her eyes roamed over him, he stiffened to the point of pain, filling with a desire and hunger he’d never experienced.

  He wanted Rose. Like he’d never wanted any other woman.

  She gazed at him with such desire, the words Take me. Now! practically blazed in the air between them. His insides trembling with longing, he swept her into his arms and strode toward her bedroom. No lumpy couch this time. He would make love to her in comfort and leisure.

  As fantastic as last night had been, their coupling had been fast paced and pounding, matching the beat of Woodstock’s rock ‘n’ roll. This morning, he would show her another side of intimacy. He would bring her to the edge of ecstasy slowly and so many times, she would be screaming for him. Once they experienced both sides of lovemaking, she would not be able to leave him.

  He would make her his. His soul mate.

  Even if the blasted tree never appeared, he would not let this woman go. Ever.

  Anthony kept her in bed until late afternoon. While he snored contentedly in the afterglow of their last lovemaking session, she slipped from the crook of his shoulder and into the shower. Every inch of her smelled like Anthony and sex. She stood under the steaming water as the heat intensified the aroma, inhaling the perfume of desire, praying every time they made love would be like last night and today.

  When she finished dressing, she walked to the hallway and touched the picture frame holding the leaves from the tree. “I need a sign to be sure he’s the one,” she whispered. “I stayed with Pa
trick without a sign, and look how that ended. With Anthony I’ve got fantastic sex. I’m so drawn to him. He was at Woodstock after you appeared to me. I want him so badly, but I need to be sure. Can you do something? Whisper the poem, or drop another leaf? Anything to let me know I’m on the right path.”

  Her pleas died on the quiet air. She stood in the hallway, ears straining for any sound. Only the tick of the living room clock sounded.

  With no response from the tree, she searched her heart for an answer to the question. Perhaps silence was an answer. Now that she understood true passion, what they had could be enough. Maybe because he touched her soul in a way no other man had, she didn’t need the tree’s confirmation. Maybe . . .

  Still uncertain, but determined to continue on the path she’d started down, she headed into the kitchen and checked in the refrigerator for something to cook for them. All their lovemaking made her famished. When Anthony awoke, he’d be hungry, too.

  She found ingredients for a veggie omelet, so she started the recipe. About halfway through the process, he entered the kitchen.

  Crossing to where she stood chopping celery, he slid his arms around her and kissed her neck. “You left me.” His tone sounded petulant.

  She stopped chopping, laid the knife on the cutting board, and pivoted in his embrace. “All the activity made me hungry. I thought we might need something to keep us going.”

  His black eyebrow winged up. “You haven’t had enough?”

  She kissed him lightly on the lips. Then she returned to the job at hand. “We’ve got ten years to make up for.”

  He squeezed her. “I like the sound of that.” His stomach growled, and they laughed. Releasing her he asked, “What can I do?”

  The smell of burnt coffee wafted on the air. “Turn off the coffeepot and set the table.”

  As she finished the omelets, he laid the place settings. When they sat to eat, she said, “We need to talk about this relationship.”

  A forkful of omelet stopped halfway to his mouth. “Why?”

  “I know I wanted to keep our relationship a secret, but I sorta told Susan Markham.”

  “The man-eater who wants me for dinner?” He set his fork on the plate with a clatter. “Why did you do that?”

  “To keep her from going after you. She also guessed something was going on with us after she learned Patrick and I had broken up. Besides, I—we need an ally. She heard Patrick is going after the music departments. He wants complete control over them. She thinks the art department might be next.”

  He shook his head, giving her a reassuring look. “He can’t do that, Rose, and if he tries we’ll put the power of the people behind us, just like we did in the Sixties.”

  “How?”

  “Band parents. The music boosters. I’m sure they’ll support us.”

  His suggestion lightened the worry in her heart. “That might actually work. I know a lot of my students’ parents are passionate about music.”

  “Susan must have some sort of parental organization which would get behind her as well in order to stop him from taking over the arts.”

  “She is also one of the drama sponsors.”

  “Then I wouldn’t worry about Patrick trying to take us over or eliminate the arts. There’s power in numbers.” He started to take a bite of eggs then paused. “Susan knows about us? Is the man-eater okay with that?”

  “I don’t think she’s happy about it, but she’ll go along with us. I’m sure she values her job more than a roll in the hay with you. Anyway, she’s got plenty of sex partners.”

  He blinked at her last comment.

  “Besides, I may have misjudged her. I think Susan is a lonely woman. That’s why she has so many men in her life.”

  “Or she just wants more gossip to spread. I’ve heard the other teachers talking in the lounge.”

  “At any rate, it’s done. Now we have to decide if we’re going to tell anyone besides Susan.”

  “I don’t know if I can keep how I feel about you a secret, Rose. One glimpse of the silly expression I’m sure to have on my face whenever I see you at school, and the whole world will know how I feel.”

  “When I told them about my relationship with Patrick, I got a lot of negative feedback.”

  “That’s different. He’s the principal. I’m just a lowly band teacher who’s on the outs with him.”

  “A lowly, drop-dead gorgeous, band teacher.”

  At her comment, a slow smile spread across his face. “All the more reason to take me off the shelf, so I don’t have to dodge passes from the single teachers. Let’s come out in the open.”

  “Maybe you’re right. I don’t want to have to always watch what I say. I couldn’t even keep my feelings for you from Susan.”

  An odd expression flashed over his face, and he averted his eyes for a second. Then his gaze returned to hers, capturing her attention with fierce determination. “You’re right. We should be open about this. I want everyone to know I’m under your spell.”

  A wave of guilt, followed by panic, hit her. Should she tell him about the tree? Its promise?

  What if the tree bewitched him? What if all his feelings for her were the tree’s enchantment and not real?

  But the tree had said, Keep my secrets untold.

  Even if he’d said he wanted to be under her spell, he might feel differently if he knew something manipulated him. Better to keep past secrets in the past.

  “So, it’s settled,” she said firmly. “We’ll come out about our relationship.”

  “And handle any fallout together,” he added. “Promise me you’ll always come to me with any problems. No matter what happens we’ll face any issues together. Okay?”

  His plea sounded so intense, and the emphasis on the word together so strong, she studied him.

  When she didn’t answer, he asked, “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  The tiniest prickle of concern crept into her brain. Perhaps she should reconsider his offer to tell her about his past. She shoved the nagging apprehension away.

  After all, everyone had secrets.

  Chapter 16

  “Since we’ve decided to make our relationship public, why don’t we start tonight?” Anthony asked, between bites of his omelet. “Is there a local place where the teachers hang out? Somewhere we can be seen holding hands?”

  Rosemary stared at him with rounded eyes. “You don’t waste time, do you?”

  For a split second he wondered if she really wanted to go public. Then she offered the name of a bar called The Literary Lounge.

  “A lot of us single gals get together there on the weekends. I know Susan will be there prowling for a new man.”

  “You’re sure she’s on our side in this?”

  “If she’s lying then we’ll find out when she sees us together tonight.”

  He checked his rumpled clothes. “I’d better go home and change. These look as if I’ve slept in them.”

  She giggled. “Or had lots of hot sex on them.”

  “What’s the dress code at the bar?”

  “Casual, unless you’re on the prowl. Susan always dresses to catch the men’s eyes.”

  “Then I suggest you wear something modest. I don’t want any other guys ogling you. Let Susan have them all.” He finished his meal and took the dish to the sink. When he returned, he kissed her forehead, then glanced at his watch. “It’s five now. If I pick you up at eight, we can have appetizers and drinks at the lounge. Does that work for you?”

  She cocked her head and gave him an odd, almost-surprised, stare.

  He wondered what he’d said to elicit her expression.

  Her gaze softened to one of gratefulness. “Thank you, Anthony.”

  “For what?”

/>   “For asking my opinion. Patrick would have never wanted to know what I felt about a date.”

  He pulled her to her feet and smothered her in kisses. “I’m not him, Rose. I’ll always consider your feelings and wants. That’s what a man in love does.”

  She gasped and stiffened in his embrace. Had he used the L word too soon? Read her actions wrong?

  “What did you say?” Her words came out breathy and nervous.

  Panic filled him as she trembled beneath his touch. Should he say the word?

  Drawing away, he studied her. Her worried blue eyes darted across his face, searching. Did she seem anxious because she wanted to hear the word love, or because she didn’t? He decided to hedge his bets and let her know how he felt without saying he loved her.

  Taking a deep breath, he whispered, “I said ‘a man will always consider the feelings and wants of the woman he’s with.’ I want this. I want us. And I promise I will always consider your needs above mine.”

  There. He’d said it. Sort of. He hoped she knew what he really meant.

  “Oh.” The single word held a note of disappointment. She averted her eyes.

  A shiver ran over him, and he mentally kicked himself for causing her to withdraw. Tonight, when they came home from The Literary Lounge, before they made love, he would say what he now knew she wanted to hear.

  He kissed her, pouring his heart and soul into the caress. When he broke contact and glanced at her, her eyes were glazed over with desire.

  “I’d better stop now, Rose,” he whispered. “Or we’ll be back in the bedroom.”

  She nodded mutely as he drew away. “Tonight?”

  Her voice, filled with longing, nearly made him set aside their plans for something more private. He let his hands trail over her arms as he backed away, their fingertips grasping for one another as they parted.

  “Tonight and tomorrow and every other time we possibly can for the rest of our lives,” he promised. Then he headed for the door. Tonight wouldn’t come soon enough.