Racing to Rhapsody: A Rhapsody Novel

by Selena Laurence

  I sigh and stand, grabbing the shopping bag off the floor and handing it to her. “I shopped in your bedroom actually. Your dad gave me the key.”

  Her eyes go wide and she looks absolutely horrified. “You went to my apartment?” she chokes out.

  I can’t help but grin. “Uh, yeah, I did.”

  Her cheeks turn bright pink before she covers her face with her hands. “Oh my God,” she mumbles into her hands.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask, even though I know damn well what’s got her in a tizzy.

  “It’s horrible,” she says uncovering her face. “It’s filthy and messy, and I never really finished unpacking. God, I can’t believe you saw my apartment in its natural state.”

  I laugh. “I think I saw you in your natural state. I had no idea such a put together business woman could have an apartment that looked like that.”

  She groans.

  “But you know what? I’m not after you for your cleaning skills so who the hell cares?”

  “So what are you after me for?” There’s a devilish little glint in her eyes.

  “Your skills between the sheets, obviously,” I growl at her and nip her neck.

  “Obviously.” She giggles when I tickle her.

  “But there is one thing you have to know. There’s no way in hell I’m taking you back to that wasteland you call a home while you recuperate. You’re coming home with me, so don’t argue.”

  She blinks at me a couple of times, then smiles, and it’s not teasing or naughty, or silly, it’s sweet and soft, and very genuine. “How did I get so lucky?” she asks, running her fingers through my hair and making every nerve ending I have sing with joy.

  “Because I missed you,” I say, and kiss her again and again and again.

  Shannon

  It’s like I’ve died and gone to heaven. I’m sitting on a wide wooden deck, overlooking the ocean and the Santa Monica beach. Dez has me set up in a lounge chair with a table full of healthy snacks and juice at my side, and a blanket over my legs. I’ve been dozing and reading a romance novel for the last forty-five minutes while he takes a run.

  Dez’s house is everything my apartment isn’t. Colorful, bright, clean, neat, and beautiful. I should have known that a guy like Dez would have a nesting instinct. The house itself is Spanish Mission style, red tile roof and white stucco walls. It’s surrounded by brick patios and flowering bushes. The inside is painted in earth tones, the walls covered in beautiful photos that Dez and his father have taken as they’ve traveled around the world. And everywhere is color—giant throw pillows, flowering plants, woven rugs from the Middle East. But it’s still the space of a guy somehow. Nothing is frilly, nothing is obviously decorated, the few knick-knacks that are around serve a function, and there’s not a speck of pastel in the whole place.

  I see him coming down the beach toward me and I’m as in awe of him as I am his house. His trim body is solid with muscle and smooth, dark skin. His shiny black hair is pulled back in a half ponytail to keep it off of his face. His cheekbones could cut glass, and his legs are long and powerful as he churns up the sand with his bare feet. He’s beautiful, and I’m in love.

  “Hey,” he pants as he comes up the stairs to the deck and flops onto the lounge chair next to mine.

  I have no idea if the time is right or not, I only know that while I said them in a drug coma at the hospital, I owe them to him right now, right here, while I’m conscious and sane, and not having sex with him.

  “Dez?”

  He wipes his arms with a small towel laying on the chair. “Yeah, baby.”

  “I love you,” I blurt out awkwardly.

  His movements slow and I see the hint of a smile curl the ends of his lips.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” My voice is stronger now, and I really want him to look at me but he keeps messing with the towel, rubbing the back of his neck now.

  Finally, just when I think I might explode from anticipation he sets the towel down and swings his legs over the edge of the chair so he’s facing me. “Well, that’s good because I happen to love you too.”

  My lungs empty in one big whoosh.

  He stands and bends over, scooping me up. I squeal in surprise.

  “And because we love each other, I’m not allowing you to move back to that god awful apartment, Shannon.”

  I look at him, trying to decide if he’s asking what I think he is.

  His eyes grow soft and warm. “Live here with me. Let’s love each other and be a family.”

  The tears pool and I nod my head emphatically, because this is my chance, my chance to accept love, to appreciate it, to relish the fact that the man I love loves me back with no convincing required.

  “Is that a yes?” he whispers, walking inside and heading toward the stairs to the master bedroom.

  “Yes. Because how could I turn down someone who’s seen my apartment and still wants to be with me.”

  He laughs before he lays me on his bed and lowers himself down next to me.

  He strokes my cheek with one finger as he gazes into my eyes. “Someday soon I’m going to ask you to marry me and have my babies too, just so you know.”

  I can’t speak I’m so overwhelmed, so I nod, and sniff, and kiss, and sniff some more.

  “God, you’re turning me into a total mess,” I scold, gripping his biceps with my good arm.

  “I think I have the solution for that.” He gently pushes me onto my back and moves over me. “I asked the doctor before I checked you out, and while we need to be careful of all of your incisions, and your arm, she did say that anything I could do to release stress for you would help in your recovery.” He slides my stretchy athletic shorts down my legs, revealing the tiny thong I have on underneath.

  “You’re so bad,” I gasp as he runs his strong hands up my legs, heading toward the danger zone.

  “Hold still.” His voice is rough with want. “You don’t want to hurt anything. This is all about recovery, remember.”

  I nod and try not to writhe as he strokes up and down my thighs several more times. I close my eyes, and focus on nothing but the sensation of his touch.

  His tongue is next, traveling up the inside of my thigh with maddening slowness. He licks and gently sucks every inch of my skin, and by the time he reaches the apex of my thighs I’m trembling with want so intense I’m ready to beg for relief.

  “Dez,” I gasp. “I don’t care if it hurts my stitches, make me come or I’ll kill you.”

  He chuckles before actually tearing my panties off of me.

  “Fuck that was hot,” I say, grinning at him. “I didn’t know guys could actually do that.”

  “I didn’t either,” he mumbles, bending over me, eyes dark and sparkling. “I took a big chance that I wouldn’t be strong enough and I’d end up looking like an idiot.”

  We both laugh, but it quickly dissolves into moans and sighs as he spreads me open with one hand and licks up my center—slow and thorough. He reaches over and grabs an extra pillow and carefully places it under my ass raising me up to the perfect height as he settles in with his face between my legs. Holy mother of all good things, I might not survive this.

  Guitar players have long fingers—just saying—and he knows how to use his to perfection. In combination with his tongue no less. In a few minutes I’m panting, gasping, and begging for release.

  As he reaches up and squeezes one of my braless breasts under my t-shirt at the same time he flicks my clit with his tongue and strokes my g-spot with his fingers, I fall. To. Pieces. Utterly. Completely. Permanently.

  The waves roll through me like electricity through a wire. My body surges and sizzles, every muscle expanding then contracting as I arch toward the man I love and cry out his name. When it finally stops, I’m replete, glowing, and exhausted.

  Dez moves up alongside of me and carefully wraps me in his arms, making sure to protect my sutures and broken arm. He kisses the top of my head.

  “That was amazing
,” I whisper, feeling the warm blanket of sleep closing over me.

  “You’re amazing,” he responds.

  “We’re amazing,” I correct.

  “We are.”

  Epilogue

  Dez

  Six Months Later

  “Dez?” my mother calls from the back door.

  My dad stretches and stands from the bench we’ve been sitting on as we watch the sunset over the New Mexico desert.

  “She found us,” he stage whispers before shoving the last bite of his steak quesadilla in his mouth. He made me bring it home to him when I took Shannon into town for lunch.

  “You realize she’ll know you’ve had that, right? She always does.”

  He snorts before rubbing his bare chest. Mom and I insisted he wear pants while Shannon is here, but we compromised on the shirts. He puts one on for dinner but leaves it off the rest of the day.

  “That woman is the bane of my existence,” Dad bitches. But I know he’s joking, he worships my mother, and if it weren’t for her he’d be a damn mess.

  “Dez?” Mom’s voice comes closer.

  “Yeah, we’re down here.”

  She comes around the bend in the trail, her long braid hanging over one shoulder, wearing a long flowing skirt and a tiny t-shirt that shows her perfectly flat stomach. I see Dad’s eyes slide up and down her small frame, and hide my smile. His eyes sparkle with interest. Bane of his existence, my ass.

  “You’ve been eating cow,” my mother says pointing at Dad.

  “Fuck,” he mutters.

  “I told you so,” I answer out of the side of my mouth, smiling at my mom to distract her.

  “Mom. You’re looking beautiful this afternoon.” I swoop in to kiss her on the cheek, and wrap an arm around her shoulders.

  “Don’t try to distract me. It’s not his beef day, he’s cheating,” she reprimands.

  “I was starving, woman,” Dad wails. “I can’t live off of fruits and nuts like the rest of you.”

  “Shannon’s done just fine this week. She hasn’t gone searching for meat once.”

  I don’t tell her that Shannon’s been eating beef jerky every night before bed. She’s happy to go vegetarian with me, but vegan cooking for an entire week cold turkey is tough for anyone.

  “Come on, Mom. Let him take another walk around the property to work off some of that cow and we’ll go inside, I have some things to plan with you.”

  “Remember what I said, Dez,” Dad yells as we leave him and start walking back toward the house.

  “Yes, sir, it’s all about the presentation.”

  Two hours later Shannon is done with her work, and I’ve explained my plans to Mom who is giddy with excitement. If she can manage not to spoil the surprise before dinner it’ll be a miracle.

  “Hey, baby,” I say as I grab Shannon and plant a smacking kiss on her luscious lips.

  “Hi. I’m sorry it took me so long, but that contract they wanted you guys to take for the Ryder guitars endorsement was a joke. I spent over an hour on the phone with the attorneys fixing that trash.”

  “Yeah, I heard you…a few times.”

  She blushes and glances at my mother. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Mom chirps as she sets a big platter of asparagus and grilled mushrooms on the table. “Anyone who’s protecting my son’s interests can make as much noise about it as they want.”

  Shannon smiles shyly and leans into me.

  “Can I help with anything?” she asks following my mom into the kitchen.

  “Yes, you can sit yourself down at the table because it’s time to eat. Dez, call your father.”

  Shannon and I have been out to see my parents twice now since we moved in together, and they’ve visited us once. She and my father have especially taken to each other, and I can see how good it is for her to have more people to care about her, more unconditional love flowing her direction.

  She’s also been spending some time with her own mother. Cara isn’t very maternal, but she cares about Shannon, and she’s willing to try. She meets Shannon for coffee or lunch once a month, and even drops off gifts at our house in between visits.

  I make a production of pulling out Shannon’s chair for her as we seat ourselves at the big pine table in my parents’ dining room. It’s covered in flowers and candles tonight.

  “Wow,” she whispers to me as I sit next to her. “Your mom went all out tonight. Everything is so fancy.”

  I smile, trying not to grin too wide. “She likes to do it sometimes,” I answer.

  After we’re all seated and the food has been served, I tap my knife on my glass like we’re in a crowded restaurant. My parents are grinning from ear to ear, and Shannon’s looking at me with that cute little crease between her brows that says she’s confused.

  “If I have everyone’s attention, I’d like to talk to my girl about something.”

  I turn and push out of my chair, dropping to one knee in front of her, I hear the little gasp of breath that leaves her lips, and smile.

  “You know I’m not really a traditional kind of guy,” I tell her. “I don’t care what people do or who they do it with as long as they’re happy and not hurting anyone else.” I hear my mother’s noise of approval behind me, and then the clicking of my father’s camera as he records the whole damn thing.

  “But I’ve also spent my whole life watching the two people I admire more than any others having a life together that started in a pretty traditional way.”

  Shannon glances up at my parents and smiles. She gets it, I know she does.

  “I told you six months ago when I made you move in with me—” everyone laughs, “—that someday I was going to put a ring on your finger and have babies with you.” I pull the box out of my pocket. “I don’t want to wait any longer. I’ve known for years now that you were the one for me, and the last six months have been the happiest of my life. I want to spend the next six decades making you as happy as you make me. Will you marry me?”

  My heart is racing as I open the ring box and she looks from it to me and back again. Her eyes get glossy and she puts a shaky hand out toward the box.

  “Oh my God, Dez,” she whispers.

  “What do you say, baby?”

  “I say, yes,” she answers, her voice getting stronger. “A thousand times, yes.”

  My mom squeals and my dad yells, “Bravo!” as he continues to snap away with the camera. I take the ring out of the box and lift up her hand. As I slide the white gold ring with a square cut piece of turquoise surrounded by diamonds onto her finger, everything inside of me clicks into place, and I breathe long and deep, knowing that this is my home, with her, forever.

  Shannon gazes at the ring, her eyes softer than I’ve ever seen them, then she throws her arms around my neck and hangs on tight.

  “You can stop running, now,” I murmur.

  “It was all worth it,” she answers quietly. “Because you were at the finish line.”

  THE END

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  Tully

  I’ve got the phone pressed so hard against my head I’m afraid the radiation is going to turn my brain into a baked potato. My hand is cramping from the clench I’ve got on the little metal and plastic box that is keeping me connected to the biggest dick I’ve ever known in my life—my brother, James. I should clarify that. All of my brothers are dicks, but James is the tallest, and usually the drunkest, and therefore he gets the dubious title of biggest dick.

  “Listen to me, Tully,” he slurs, “if you didn’t want Mom to know about that tat then maybe you shouldn’t have gotten it and posted it on your fucking Instagram page.”

  “My Instagram page is private for a reason, James. Mom would never have seen it if you hadn’t decided to show. It. To. Her. And you only did it to cause trouble and take the focus off of Jeanette dumping you. You would never do shit like this to Keith or Lou.”

  “Yeah, well, Keith and Lou don’t go around getting tattoos of birds on their asses. Don’t you have any shame? What guy is going to want you when you’ve got that shit on your ass? Even your idiot rock and roll pussy guys won’t want to tap that.”

  My stomach roils and I feel the sting of tears at the back of my eyes. I know he’s been drinking. I know I shouldn’t listen to the things a drunk says, but it’s tough. My whole life my brothers and father have treated me like a second-class citizen. They’ve spent twenty-two years trying to make me into something and someone I’m not, and even though I know better, I still let them hurt me.

  “Fuck you,” I tell James. “And stay away from my social media. Consider yourself unfriended.”

  I jab my finger at the screen to end the call and look up to find Joss Jamison, Mike Owens, and Colin Douglas staring at me from across the room. I still can’t get used to spending the majority of every day with the famous rock band, Lush. That I’m actually a member of said band is even more unbelievable. I’ve pretty much been in denial since they first hired me two months ago, and the way things have been going I won’t make it another two months before I get fired, so I really don’t need to believe the fairytale anyway.