“Shh. It’s fine. I can see your face in the dim light. It’d be nice if you weren’t wrapped up to your chin but being able to watch your face and hear your little noises will let me imagine what I can’t see.”
With trembling fingers, I pushed the blanket down to my knees. From the angle of the computer, he could still probably only see down to the top of my collarbone. “Better?”
He gave a gruff chuckle and swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“What next?” I really didn’t know how to do this with him. It shouldn’t be this awkward to do this with my boyfriend.
“Slide your computer back a little and angle it so I can see more than just your face. Like this.” He leaned and set his computer onto the bed next to him. Now more of him filled the screen. In addition to his handsome face, I could see every toned inch of his abdomen and his rock-hard cock.
My breath stuttered out at seeing his prominent arousal. I moved my own computer, so he could see more of me. “How’s that?”
“Good, sweetheart. Now, rub your nipples for me.”
Thankful for the direction, I slipped my hand under the satiny hem of my tank top and lightly traced circles around one nipple. My touch was feather-light, barely there. But since my breasts were so responsive, my nipple peaked within a few seconds of receiving attention.
“How’s it feel?” he asked huskily.
“Good.”
“I see your nipples getting hard through the fabric of your shirt. Are you wet?” His face moved closer to the screen.
I gave my nipple one last squeeze, then let my hand creep down into the waistband of my shorts. With one finger, I delved inside. My teeth captured my lip as my body reacted to my own touch. I nodded to answer Beckett’s question.
“Damn,” he groaned.
My eyes darted to the screen, and I found him proudly gripping his cock and stroking it.
“I’m picturing your dainty hand squeezing me now.” He thrust up into his hand. “Touch yourself more,” he rasped out.
“Hang on,” I said. He was far closer to the end than me. I needed to be closer to coming so he wouldn’t finish first and then be fully focused on me. My fingers wrapped around the item that had never failed me.
“What have you got there?” he asked curiously.
I’d hoped I would be fast enough to keep him from knowing what I had. Though he’d probably be able to hear the hum soon.
I held it up to the screen. His eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open. “Does my sweet Isabelle have a vibrator?”
I nodded as I slipped it into my shorts. I looked back at him.
“What are you waiting for? Turn it on,” his voice was eager.
With a wiggle of my hips, the rubber toy glided between my lips. I positioned it against my clit and turned it on. Scrolling through the settings, I stopped on my favorite pulsating pattern. A sigh slipped through my lips as my pleasure mounted quickly.
“Damn, sweetheart. The look on your face… I’ve never seen you look so… I don’t have the word for it. How close are you?”
“Getting there,” I breathed out.
The vibrator was magic. I watched his hand fisting his cock, his motions nearly a blur. Heat gathered and traveled across my skin. My eyes slammed shut as my hips arched into the vibrations.
It wasn’t Beckett’s face I saw behind my closed lids or his voice filling my ears. I clamped my lips shut, trapping the name that wanted to sneak out and muffling the low moan that erupted from me as my orgasm washed over me.
♪ Go Back to You by Selena Gomez
When I drifted back to myself a few moments later, I self-consciously shut off the toy and pulled my blanket back around me. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Beckett.
“Wow. That was amazing,” he breathed out.
I finally looked at the screen. His release was splattered on his belly, and a sated look filled his eyes. A shy smile tipped my lips.
“Watching you like that was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Why in the world did we wait so long to do this?” he asked incredulously.
I shrugged.
“The look on your face when you shatter in ecstasy is stunning. I’m going to go clean up and let you get some sleep. You look pretty worn out. OK?” His fingers brushed down the screen of the computer on his side.
“OK, Beck. Goodnight,” I whispered.
“Sleep well, babe. I’ll talk to you later. Love ya.”
“Love ya too.”
The screen went dark as he blew me a kiss. I shut the lid, stashed my trusty vibrator and turned off the lamp. My eyes drifted closed as I allowed sleep to pull me under.
When I finally woke the next morning, it was after ten. Thankfully, I had no shoots scheduled for the day. With a leisurely stretch, I made my way to the kitchen with my laptop tucked under my arm. The aroma of my favorite coffee filled my nostrils as I padded down the hallway. Thank goodness for a programmable coffee maker.
After filling my mug, I leaned over, inhaling deeply. That one deep breath started my synapses firing enough for me to start the photo edits I needed to complete in the next couple of hours. One image particularly caught my eye. Meg, the little girl I’d photographed a few days ago, had her head thrown back in laughter as she soared ever higher in a swing. The sky and tree branches made a beautiful backdrop. After a little retouching, I had an image I thought would be good for the exhibit. I shot off a quick message to her parents to get their consent to use the image.
Methodically, I worked my way through the remaining photos of Meg’s family shoot and another shoot. Cropping, lightening, darkening, adjusting color, softening focus—making each image a work of art. When I was finally done, I opened a folder I’d buried in a string of subfolders a couple years ago, so it wouldn’t taunt me from my desktop every day. I clicked the button to generate the slideshow of the album.
The first series of images featured small stages with barely enough room for Dawson to work the space after the rest of the band equipment was set up, enthusiastic crowds jumping through a smoke-filled haze, and raw talent. Photographing Lyrical Odyssey at the beginning of their journey the summer after high school graduation had been one of the most exciting times of my life.
♪ All Summer Long by Kid Rock
A carefree summer filled with following the guys around to local gigs, so they’d have images for their website. Late nights, lots of laughs, shameless flirting, stolen kisses and more as we remained more than friends but less than a couple. We had no labels. We both knew once summer ended, we’d be heading in different directions, so we guarded our hearts while we made memories.
I fast forwarded the slide show to images I’d been paid to capture of the guys on their first official tour with the record label. With a few clicks, I placed some of the earlier, smaller gigs on the screen next to their first larger show. Seeing them side by side gave me an idea about creating a piece which highlighted the contrast and growth in their musical identities. Small stages became larger. Enthusiastic crowds that just appreciated live music became frenzied, devoted followers who slept in line to get into the shows. Smoke-filled haze was replaced by flashing lights. And raw talent evolved into a finessed, unique sound.
As the light bulb went off inside, I hastily opened a new window and sorted through a folder of older images. I finally found the ones I wanted. Dawson and the guys playing in his garage when they were still in school. The series from three different time frames could tell the whole story. With the band’s popularity, the images would definitely garner attention. I’d need to contact the guys to get their permission to display the images. Definitely worth considering, even though I wasn’t ready to reach out to them yet.
One image in the series of the tour caught my eye. It was of Dawson center stage before a show. He hadn’t known I was in the shadows. His guitar was nestled in his arms, the case open at his feet. Strumming the strings, he was in his own little world. Whispering lyrics destined to never hit the airwaves becau
se, according to the label, they weren’t marketable. But the words couldn’t be contained within him.
Zooming in, I could make out the drawing attached inside the guitar case. I’d looked at this image a hundred times over the course of our time as an official couple. But I’d always only focused on Dawson’s face, the way his hands held his instrument, his posture, how he as a lone figure still managed to fill the entire stage. With the luxury of time and distance, I guessed I was able to see new details. My heart hammered at the reminder of the first time I’d seen it in his case…
I’D FINISHED all my on-campus courses, leaving my senior year filled with a couple online courses and actual visual arts work. The freedom that afforded me allowed me to go on tour with the guys for a large part of the time. When I met up with the tour bus, they were on stage, just finishing up their sound check. Dawson’s eyes collided with mine as he was coming off the stage. Taking the steps two at a time, he was by my side in an instant, sweeping me up in a scorching kiss. Ever since we’d decided to move officially into couple territory during my sophomore year, the past ten weeks was the longest we’d been without seeing each other.
♪ For the Life of Me by Trent Tomlinson
Somehow, our lips parted enough for us to make our way to the band’s shared dressing room. He tugged me over to an overstuffed chair in the corner. Leaning down, he grabbed a fresh shirt and stripped out of the damp one he had on. Heat spread across the surface of my skin as I took in his rippling muscles. My fingers itched to reacquaint themselves with all his delicious features.
“Want to go find an empty janitor’s closet?” I whispered in his ear.
“I wish we could. We have a meet-and-greet in, like, thirty minutes, and that’s not nearly enough time to reconnect with you properly. Half an hour would barely allow me to scratch the surface of what I want to do to you,” he growled back in my ear. The heat of his breath sent shivers down my spine.
I pouted. “Are you sure you don’t want a quickie? I promise it’ll be good.”
He nibbled my pout for a second, then pulled back. “I have no doubt it would be good. And we can have quickies up and down the west coast. And longies and mediums and everything in between now that you’re here. But the first time I put my hands, my tongue, my cock on you, in you, I’m going to need quite a bit more time to savor and memorize you than any amount of time that can be measured only in minutes. You’re going to be so wracked with pleasure that you’re really going to appreciate tomorrow is a travel day, ‘cause you’re going to need the recovery time. Understand?” The rough pad of his thumb rubbed softly across my lips.
I swallowed hard and nodded as heat rushed to my core. I ached with need for him. But if history was any indication, the wait would make it that much hotter.
I tugged his head down and leaned my forehead against him, putting our eyes inches apart. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear to you, Daw. The minute you strum the last note of your encore, you belong to me. And only me. No party, no fans tonight. I need you.”
♪ She’s All I Ever Had by Ricky Martin
“You got it, flutterby. I’ll make sure Steve, Joe and Lila know not to bother me after the show.”
I frowned at the mention of Lila. The girl hated me. She’d been very vocal about how Dawson needed to keep me a secret ever since she found out about our relationship. My unvoiced opinion was that she wanted Dawson herself and was just biding her time to try to make something happen between them.
Over my dead body.
Dawson sank down into the chair and pulled me onto his lap. Settling into his embrace felt like coming home. His arms wrapped around me, and he buried his face in the crook of my neck, sucking and kissing the skin there. When he hit a ticklish spot, I squirmed and kicked the guitar case propped up by the chair, making the lid pop open.
“Crap, I’m sorry,” I gasped.
“It’s all good. My guitar is already stashed on the stage,” he assured me, his lips never leaving my skin.
I peered down at the floor. “What’s that?” I asked as I stared inside the lid.
He blushed and shrugged. “I just wanted to keep the memory close for inspiration.”
It was the sketch I’d made for him of us kissing so many years ago. He’d added in some butterflies flying in a mini tornado around his head and written beneath the drawing Makin’ me Dizzy. The paper reflected the overhead light.
“Don’t worry. It’s not the original. I had a copy made and laminated it, so it wouldn’t get damaged. While I’m confessing, I may as well tell you the full story.” He shifted me over a bit and reached into his back pocket, drawing out his wallet. When he flipped it open, inside the photo holder was a miniature version of the sketch. “And one more.” He leaned forward and snagged his phone off the table. After he swiped the screen, he held it up. The image was the wallpaper on his phone.
“How long have you been toting that image around with you?” I cradled his cheek with one hand, my palm tingling at the scruff along his jaw.
“Honestly?” he asked sheepishly.
I nodded.
“It’s been in my wallet since you emailed it to me. Once we started playing real gigs, I put it in my case. And it’s been uploaded on several phones now, since I seem to break or misplace them all the time.”
“Why? We weren’t even a couple back then.” My nose scrunched up as I wondered about it. With one finger, he rubbed the wrinkles away.
“Not officially. But in my heart, we have been since the day I laid eyes on you in your backyard with your hair in pigtails, wearing that pink and yellow outfit. You have always been my inspiration and the one who believed in me.”
I crashed my mouth to his, needing to marry our bodies desperately. My heart wanted to crawl out of my chest and join his.
A loud throat clearing behind me brought us back to a world where people other than us existed. It wasn’t the world I wanted to be in at the moment. Dawson seemed to be of the same mindset, as his fingers anchored my head in place, so he could continue plundering the depths of my mouth. I cracked an eye open to see who dared to interrupt. Lila. I was so not cutting our moment short for the likes of her.
“Dawson, you two need to separate before the meet-and-greet starts. Can’t have rumors starting that would bring your official single status into question,” she hissed at us.
♪ Puzzle Pieces by Framing Hanley
Dawson sighed into my mouth before he put a breath of space between our lips. His eyes never left mine as he answered her. “I will refrain from kissing or groping my girlfriend during the twenty minutes of the scheduled meet-and-greet. I will set the alarm on my phone. When it goes off, I’m kissing and hugging my girl until time to walk on stage. And she will be standing just offstage, where I can look at her while I perform. I will scoop her up as soon as the last note is played, and I will carry her straight to my room on the bus. If you don’t want anyone getting accurate ideas about how crazy I am about this woman, then I suggest you keep people out of my damn way tonight. Because we have a lot of catching up to do. Do I make myself clear?” He finally glanced at her.
“Crystal,” she replied curtly and spun on her heel to storm away.
“She wants you,” I mumbled against his neck.
“Nah. She’s just worried about what the label will say. They want us all single and available. At least for appearances’ sake.” His fingers ran up and down my spine in a soothing manner.
“I hate that. I want the world to know you’re mine.” I tried not to pout about it. But he was going to be heading overseas soon to start their first world tour. I wanted him officially off the market before some foreign groupies even thought about sinking their claws into him.
“I want that too, baby. I swear, you’re all I want. I’m sorry. I promise you don’t have to worry about anyone capitalizing on my apparent availability. I’d never jeopardize what we have. And I’m actually thinking of adopting a new standoffish persona. You know, arrogant, alphahol
e jerk who’s rude to everyone,” he offered with a half-smirk.
“I trust you. I know if you ever decided you didn’t want this anymore, you’d talk to me first. And I’m not sure you’re capable of seeming standoffish.” I smirked at the thought of my extroverted boyfriend appearing the opposite.
“To protect what we have, I can be anything,” he vowed. His lips pressed to mine once more before I extracted myself from his hold. With my hand tucked in his, he dragged me over to the table where fans would soon line up to have things signed. He snagged an extra chair and planted me in it next to him. Before the door opened to let in the chaos echoing in the hallway, his fingers brushed my cheek and toyed with the ends of my hair. “Did I mention, I love the hair?”
I gave him a megawatt grin. My creativity often bled out into my hair. For this leg of the tour, I’d dyed it in pastel shades of lime, cornflower, amethyst and bubblegum.
I watched him in his element, chatting with his fans, cataloging the swirl of colors as the line moved steadily by us. And the whole time he interacted with his fans, his left hand remained planted on my thigh beneath the table. Everything was going well until the last person in line approached. Some big-chested girl with hot pink, cotton candy hair asked him to sign her boobs. I tried not to bristle as Dawson hesitated. Lila shot him a look while Brooks sent me one.
“Marker’s permanent,” Dawson warned.
“I wouldn’t mind having you permanently mark me with your Sharpie or your stick,” she declared brazenly. “I mean, we do go way back.”
Dawson seemed speechless.
“How about we combo sign them, since you have so much real estate?” Brooks said from Dawson’s other side.
Dawson squeezed my thigh three times, our silent signal of love, before he stood. Planting his left hand on the table, he leaned forward. He uncapped the black marker with his teeth and proceeded to scribble a large D, some loops and an A up by her collarbone. Pink-and-Busty opened her mouth to protest or flirt some more. But before she could utter a syllable, the alarm on Dawson’s phone chirped. He shot Lila a look and draped his left arm across the back of my chair.
Notes of the Heart: Book 2 of the Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Page 27