He's still looking at me. "You know, like a soul without a mate. Nothing is ever right until they find each other." I'm getting frustrated in his silence. This is why I don't explain my love for music to people. Most don't understand. "It's stupid."
"No, it makes sense. What I'm trying to figure out is why I didn't know this about you."
"Like I said, it's stupid."
"Why is it stupid?"
"I don't know, because unless you make it big there is no purpose behind it, but I don't really want to sing my songs for the world. I just want to sing them for me, but my mother always told me that kind of singing was selfish and self-centered, so I just kept it to myself. I was only allowed to sing in choir or for a Sunday special in church, so it took that passion out of it for me."
"You can sing too?"
"Yeah. Everyone can sing…" I play it off, not wanting him to ask me for a sample.
"When did you start writing songs?"
"I picked it up when I was a kid. They kept floating around in my head and I would sing little jingles to myself, so I started writing them down to pass time when I was bored."
"Amazing."
"What is?"
"You. You amaze me more and more every day."
"You're the amazing one, Saxton. You have a heart of gold and I get to exist in its presence. That's what is amazing."
"I'm buying you this guitar."
"What? No you aren't."
He shrugs. "Yes, I am. I'm buying you your first guitar. I can buy it with you or without you, but regardless of which I'm buying it, so you might as well get a good look at it and make sure it's the one."
My shoulders drop. "I never wanted to tell you. I can't even play it. It'd be a waste of money."
He takes a step over and grabs the handle of the red door again, opening it. Hmm, I never thought I’d like a red door. It’s almost calming: the red and blue. "I guess we'll just have to sign you up for lessons when we get back home, you know, so I don't waste my money." He winks. "I have a feeling it's a good investment anyway."
I take a deep breath, defeated, and then walk through the door as he holds it open. When I walk inside, I realize exactly what kind of store this is: a music store. In the center is a massive wooden table made to hold plastic crates filled with vinyl records, the outside walls lined with CDs. Toward the back is a counter, guitars of different makes and models hanging on the wall behind the guy occupying the area. I've died and gone to music heaven. I can barely contain my excitement.
I stop just inside the door. "Can I help you?"
I can't speak. I'm still in awe of actually being in here. I haven't seen vinyls in a long time. My mouth opens, but still no words exit. "We're just looking for now. I'll let you know if we need anything," Saxton returns to the man at the counter.
His body wraps around me from behind, his arms crossing at my chest. "Well, what do you think? Was this the kind of record store you wanted to see?"
"It's so much more."
"It won't do us any good to just admire. Come on. Let's look at the guitar."
When he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the window display, I get a closer look than when I was outside. I halt. He looks back at me. "What is it?"
"I can't touch that guitar. You aren't buying that guitar."
"What? I thought we already established this."
"Saxton . . . " My tone lowers, bringing it to a level of reverence. "That isn't just any guitar. That's a Martin D-45."
"Okay . . . what's that mean? I'm not a music junkie. Speak dumb farm boy lingo."
"Think King Ranch edition in terms of the basic Ford. This is like a top of the line guitar. You don't just run to the store and purchase a Martin D-45 when wanting to learn to play. You buy like the D-28, or maybe even just a cheap beginner. This is what the pros use. This is for the people that use it as a tool to make a living. I can't let you buy that guitar. I'm talking like seventy-five hundred dollars at minimum, and that's a standard D-45 base price, not specialized, heavily dressed out, or any kind of customization."
"You know, you're really sexy when you start spewing off facts about shit that most people probably don't know. How do you know all of that?"
"I had a huge love for music and a lot of spare time growing up. I guess I was even a little bit of a dreamer."
He pulls me toward it, yet again. "Pick it up."
"No, Saxton, if you want to buy me a guitar you can get something else. This is too much."
He grabs my face, before softly placing his lips against mine. "How serious are you about wanting to learn to play?"
"I want it more than anything, but that's not the point."
"Look, I learned a long time ago that if you keep buying cheaper brands of the best or what you actually want, over time of replacing it you end up spending about the same, so you might as well just get what you want upfront. If it's a crazy number like forty thousand then we'll move on to a different one until you know the route of your career, but if it's like ten grand I can swing it. Without details, I've been saving my money for a while, Kambry. I'm not a spender. I'm a saver, but I'm also kind of enjoying spoiling you a little, so let me. If you want to look at it as a promise of forever like a ring then so be it, but let it go. We can't take our money with us when we die. We'll figure out a budget when we need it, and that's not this week or next week. Okay?"
I don't see winning this argument. "Only if you let me buy you something."
His eyes scan mine, then he smiles, and I know he's going to formulate a plan to appease us both. "Pick us out some vinyls for our collection and you have a deal."
My brows bunch. "Our collection? What collection?"
"The one that will be in our music room at the new house, alongside your guitar."
"I get an entire music room?"
"Might as well have a place to go for lessons. We don't have kids yet."
My mouth falls a little. "Are you sure there isn't something I can help the two of you with?"
Saxton's hand falls from my face as we both look over at the guy that was previously at the counter. A few seconds later a credit card becomes visible between Saxton's index and middle fingers, the front facing the man. "How much for the guitar?"
He takes one look at it and nods for the counter. "Meet me at the back. I'll bring it and we can work out a deal."
He folds up his wallet and kisses my temple. "Go start looking through the records. I'll meet you there in a minute. Okay?"
"Okay," I say, before nervously migrating toward the treasure hunt in the middle of the store. I'm at that point where I'm not sure if I should be excited by this purchase or terrified. If he does this I can never back out. I can never be scared to go for something I've wanted almost my entire life. This is about to be . . . real, and that's scary as hell.
Saxton
"She the one?"
I look back at the man ringing up the guitar. He’s looking at me over the top of his glasses as he lays the credit card slip on the counter for me to sign. "Yes, sir. I believe with every cell in my body that she is. Why do you ask?"
"Because this is an awfully big purchase for a man that's not in love. Just figured she must have been special."
"Special is putting it mildly," I say, turning back to look at her after signing the slip of paper. My eyes have been on her almost the entire time she's been looking through the crates of vinyls. She has an animated expression every few shuffles through the stack at hand, as if she found a nugget of gold at the edge of a riverbank. "She's worth every penny."
I tap the counter with my hand without looking back. "Hold on to the guitar for a few, will ya? We'll be back in a few minutes when she's done looking."
"Sure thing. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."
I walk over to her, wanting to be a part of the moment she's in. I want to share her excitement. "Find anything good?" I grab the front of the stack in the next crate over, beginning to shuffle through each one.
She glances
at me with a huge grin on her face. "I found a few, but one is hidden treasure."
The mildest ache in my chest occurs when she looks at me like that, proving without words that she's happy. "Well, let's see it."
She grabs a small stack she pulled previously and shuffles through until she makes her choice, placing it on top. When she turns toward me she slides the one on top over, revealing two. I instantly smile when I glance at the one on the left. Bryan Adams—Heaven, single in vinyl. The one on the right is Lionel Richie—Stuck on You, single with another song of his on side B.
Those two songs hold some very important memories for me. One, being the night we danced on the bar after I gave her a lap dance, and two, was the day on the beach at the house that I will make ours as soon as we get back. I've already contacted my banker and realtor to go ahead and start the process. As soon as it's possible, she'll put my house on the market. I don't need it anymore. What I need is a home, not a house. I know what kind of girl Kambry is, and she wouldn't be happy there. She's a simple girl, and that's one thing that fascinates me about her.
"I'd say you found the winners, baby."
She starts bouncing up and down in excitement. "I thought the same thing!"
I wrap my arms around her and pull her to my chest. "This can be our thing, Kambry. You're the girl I want to travel the world with and find random music shops for technology that is no longer in style. This, seeing you happy, makes me happy."
She looks up at me, hugging the vinyls to her chest between us. "I like when we have things that is just ours."
"Why don't we grab a record player and get out of here. I have plans for you that involve you being naked, and that requires privacy at present time. If you don't want Tynleigh to hear you, then I advise we get a move on it before she gets home."
Her cheeks start to change in color, showing the perfect shade of pink. She pulls away, making a run toward the counter, her blonde hair swaying back and forth. "I guess I'll get the player," I yell, but only loud enough for myself to hear.
My right hand unconsciously finds my heart. "She's my person. Please don't let anything happen to her," I whisper in prayer, my eyes briefly closing as I do. "I know it's been a while, but I'll do anything you want to keep her."
And I meant it. I'd give my own life to preserve hers, because that's what happens when you fall in love with someone. Your heart becomes a sacrifice whenever one is needed. I just hope I never have to, because together forever is how it's supposed to be . . .
Chapter Seven
Saxton
I unlock the apartment door and pull her in quickly, wasting no time before slamming the door with my foot. Setting the guitar case down in the foyer, I grab the handful of items she's currently holding, placing them on the small table. "What?" She asks as she places her hands in her back pockets. My smile grows, but I remain quiet. For what I'm wanting I don't need many words.
Grabbing ahold of her waist, I roughly pull her against me, mildly swaying the two of us as I slip my hands beneath her shirt. I push her against the door, lightly gyrating my pelvis against hers, showing her instead or telling her. Her cheeks begin to flush. "Oh," she says, her voice never rising above a whisper.
"I have plans for you, and for your body. Those plans involve taking my time." I pull her phone out of her purse before taking it off her arm and placing it too on the table. I can feel her watching me as I quickly put it on a Spotify preset playlist, before inserting it into the dock connected to the surround sound. The R&B music begins to play from the Bedroom Jams channel, exactly what I need: something soft and sensual, but sexy.
"You still make me nervous," she says when my eyes return to hers.
My thumb brushes down her bottom lip when my palm rests against the side of her neck. "You still make me crazy, and that's why I need you all the damn time."
I mold my lips to hers, slowly tasting and touching them in a way I haven't in a while. My hands grip around her waist again as I kiss her, slowly ascending up her sides. Chill bumps begin to sprout all over her skin along the way, until finally, I reach the point that we must part.
I toss her top on the floor and lock the door. "We have hours to ourselves. I want to worship your body."
She grabs the back of my head and pulls it toward her, crushing her lips to mine. I dispose of her bra and grip her tits in my hands. They fit perfectly, not leaving an inch of open space in my hands, and just the right amount of overspill. Her nipples are hard, making me salivate to suck them. My mouth travels over her chin and down the center of her neck, before reaching the destination.
Her tiny hands grip around the front waistband of my pants as I slowly and torturously flicker my tongue in a point over her nipple. I switch sides, before continuing downward. Before I make it to her navel, she pulls my phone from my pocket. I smile against her skin, but don't stop until I'm on my knees before her. I glance up at her as I pop the button through the slit of her shorts. Her back is against the door, my phone in hand. Her chest is heaving up and down. "You're so damn hot."
"Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you," I return, as I slide her shorts and panties down her legs until they are in a heap on the floor at her feet. I grip her ankle and pull her foot in front of me, gently removing her shoe, and then set it on my shoulder, giving me better access to the place I want to be. My hand glides up her leg, making its way to her ass for control. Her lips become flush with mine with little effort at all: one little push in my direction. I extend my tongue and flatten it against the base of her pink, swollen lips, before lightly swiping over them fully until I reach the top.
She shivers beneath my touch. I repeat, familiarizing myself with her soft skin. On the third time I slip two fingers in, dying to feel how wet she is inside. It's like discovering the prize inside a fucking Cracker Jack box. You know it'll be waiting, but never quite sure what you'll get and just how good it'll be, no matter how many times you've done it before. Even though I know I could go straight to the reward, I still sit here and eat the whole damn box waiting to get to the center, every time.
She never disappoints my ego, always wet and ready to go when I want her. I spread her lips with my free hand, meeting her clit with the tip of my tongue. She breathes out, verbally confirming I've hit her sweet spot. My fingers pump in and out of her in slow motion, intentionally drawing it out, matching my tongue to the rhythm. I pull my tongue back inside, long enough to moisten it, but grip the skin that covers her clit between my teeth, tugging lightly. "Shit. Harder. Do it faster."
I glance up at her and the camera to my phone is facing me, her shaking hand working hard to hold it steady. I smirk. "As you wish, beautiful." She screams out as I jab my fingers deep inside, sending her on her toes.
"Like that?"
"Yes. Fuck."
I grip the back of her thigh, lifting her higher on the door to throw her standing leg over my shoulder, spreading her. She grabs the door handle for some support as the back of her thighs rest on my shoulders. I don't want this to take long, because I want her to film until she comes, keeping it short. The tip of my tongue meets her clit again, but this time to work, using the sound coming from her mouth as a guide.
I change the position of my hand as I quickly flick my tongue back and forth over her clit, submerging my thumb inside instead of my fingers, moving my middle finger back until the tight hole between her ass cheeks becomes flush with the pad of my wet finger. I begin massaging her asshole just as I suck her clit in my mouth, hard, allowing it to rub between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. "Shit," she screams. "I'm coming. Fuck."
Her hand grips in my hair, pulling as her pussy begins to contract, lubricating a way for my dick. I always have to watch her face when she comes, no matter what position she's in. It's an expression that will forever haunt you, in the best of ways, and even knowing I'll never forget it, I still have to watch it over and over. "Stop. I want you to fuck me. Now."
I lick her pussy, tasting her wetness along the
edges of her skin, before setting her down on the floor. "Not yet. I'm not finished, which means you're not ready yet."
I stand, taking my phone from her hand. "You film it?"
"Yes. Probably too long. I was temporarily paralyzed and unable to touch buttons or process that I should stop recording."
"I can clip it, and speed it up if I need to. Short clips are better for what we need. Free only grants a person a sample in most cases." I wink, pulling her toward the bedroom. "We'll upload it tonight."
"Don't we have to create an account?"
"I've already done it. I had a lot of free time when you were getting pampered. I'll put it on your phone later."
"Okay," she says, as she follows along behind me.
I turn toward her to shut the door, again locking it. "You still plan on keeping your word?"
She skims her bottom lip with her top teeth. "A promise is a promise. Just go easy on me."
"Good, because I'm changing the game."
"What do you mean?"
She watches my smile as I walk backwards, leading her to the bed. "A beautiful compromise."
"Should I be scared?"
Her expression proves she isn't nervous, not in the least. "You should be prepared."
The blush on her cheeks deepens in color. I lean over her until she falls back first on the bed, but stop myself with my hands. "Prepared for?"
"An explosion. I told you I'm going to worship your body and I meant it." I stand upright and remove my shirt, then begin unbuckling my belt. "It's my job to show you new things, explore with you, and keep our sex life from becoming stale. That's my promise to you."
Her eyes never leave mine, as they usually do when I begin discarding the lower items of clothing, baring my dick. She likes to watch me undress, staring at the goods like she dying to suck my cock, and it leaves me hard as a rock. But this time she keeps her eyes on mine. "Well it's my job to always meet your needs, to never turn you down, to always love you unconditionally, and to be the best lover I can be. That's my promise to you."
Sex Sessions: After The Cut (Camera Tales #2) Page 7