Second Chances

by Leigh Morgan

  He heard her utter ‘stubborn man’ thinking she didn’t know the half of it. “Don’t grumble little spit-fire.” Ram said turning back to the cabinet and the champagne flutes. He added ice to the bucket he found below and popped the cork on his favorite French champagne before adding it to the bucket.

  “Let’s add some bubbles to the Jacuzzi and drink our champagne Mrs. Macleod. There are some things I was reading in that book of yours we haven’t tried yet.”

  He was standing before her champagne in one hand, crystal flutes in the other, wearing that smile that made her insides melt.

  She’d chastise him for forgetting the ‘Thorson’ later. Right now she had more important things to do.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The first taste of her was sweet and rich. Like cream and salt mingled with the tart yeastiness of champagne. She was intoxicating. Ram wanted to carry the taste of her on his tongue and the scent of her in his mustache for as long as he could.

  How could he have waited so long to lick, taste and eat the very heart of her? It was a mistake he’d never make again. Rhia was so responsive, so sweetly demanding, he could spend a lifetime between her legs and never get enough.

  “I love the way you taste.” He growled into her, licking his way from her slick nether lips to the tight little bud that sought his tongue every time he tried to move his way back down to her entrance.

  This time he let the little dictator have its way. He lavished his attention on her clit as he eased two fingers into her. He licked with the flat and tip of his tongue. Sucking gently at first then more softly he laved again until Rhia was pulling at his hair and bucking into him at the same time.

  She came in waves of feeling, her inner walls pulled at his fingers, begging them to stay, as her hands tried to push his mouth away from the most sensitized part of her.

  “Oh Ram...stop...please.” Rhia didn’t recognize her own voice when it came out in that throaty purr. But she didn’t pay it much heed. She was still melting around Ram’s fingers and trembling every time his breath hit her swollen clitoris.

  She’d never come apart like that before. She’d never had a man dive so fully into ensuring her pleasure. What made this moment even better was the fact that Ram drew as much pleasure from what he’d just given her as she did.

  The pleased, predatory look on his face as he kissed his way up her body told her more than words could have how pleased he was with himself and with her.

  His fingers were still damn with her essence when he rubbed them against her lower lip. “Taste yourself. See how good you taste to me. I could kiss you there every day for the rest of our lives and never get enough of you.”

  Her small tongue darted out to do what he commanded and it was more than Ram could take. His lips captured hers as he sheathed himself and slid home in one easy stroke. He couldn’t get enough of her mouth either.

  God. She’s so sweet. Thank you.

  It may not have been the best time for prayer, but Ram couldn’t think of a better time for thankfulness.

  He kissed her mouth, her neck, behind her ear. When she locked her ankles around his calves and grabbed his ass he knew she was close to coming again. This time when she came it wasn’t as forceful, but it lasted longer. Her channel clenched and unclenched around him until the flood subsided. He rode it all out wanting to look into her eyes when he came.

  Her body wept for him and gave him its greatest gift twice. Rhia knew she didn’t have it in her to give that again. Her heart would probably give out if she did. She was satiated and enjoying the pleasure of feeling Ram’s hardness filling her. He hadn’t come yet and it looked like it had cost him to hold out. Perspiration ran from his temple and Rhia licked it away. His rough voice, more guttural now brought her gaze back to him.

  “Look at me Rhiannon. You’re my wife and I’ll love you forever. Watch me. See what you do to me.” With that he slid so deeply inside she felt him touch her womb. It wasn’t painful, but it was more of him than she’d ever taken before. He kept that pace, that urgent need riding him for a few more strokes before he flooded her with his warmth.

  He collapsed against her, his rapid breathing roaring through her ears. Rhia had never felt so deeply penetrated, so deeply wanted and needed, or so fulfilled on every level.

  Ram pulled out slowly watching every emotion flash over Rhia’s expressive features. Had he ever looked into her eyes and not seen the most beautiful woman in the world? If he had, he’d been a fool.

  He kissed her forehead and pulled her back to spoon against him. He loved just holding her small, hot body against him. She felt like a small furnace, he didn’t need the summer-weight quilt. Rhia had it pulled up under her chin.

  Ram had asked Flossie to pack his bags. He’d be gone by the time Rhia got up. He didn’t want to wake her since he’d be gone before the sun. He had a more selfish reason for leaving before she woke. He wanted to remember her just like this, naked, curled into him, filled with his seed, the taste of her on his tongue.

  Ram didn’t sleep the night of his wedding. He wanted to remember every second of it.

  Rhia fell asleep certain that she was going to love Ram forever. She was also certain Ram was the most honest, most wonderful man in the world.

  ...

  “That lying bastard.” Rhia screamed at Ram’s big-screen T.V.

  “Now dear, I knew both of that boy’s parents. I assure you they were married when he was born.” Flossie said taking another mouthful of popcorn from the bowl she and Rhia were sharing.

  Rhia jumped up and started pacing in front of the T.V. “Yea? Well, how about the lying part? That boy is a liar! A dirty, no good liar. He’s also a shit. That’s my new name for him, Shit-head-Macleod.”

  “Tsk. Language young lady. And just what did Ramsey lie about?” Flossie asked, not the least bit perturbed by Rhia’s ire.

  It had been three days since their wedding. Three days since Ram left like a thief in the night and now there he was, big as life and twice as gorgeous, on the ‘telly’ as Flossie called it.

  Rhia’s eyes narrowed on Flossie. “And you. You were all part of this conspiracy.”

  Flossie was trying with great effort to see around Rhia’s form as she paced and stopped and paced and stopped. She grumbled something in Welsh and then lost her patience with Rhia.

  “I’m asking you a question, girl. Now answer it so I can watch my boy sing. Just when did Ramsey lie to you? What did he say that was a lie?” Flossie said raising a brow.

  Rhia thought about that. “He told me he wrote songs.”

  “He does.” Flossie answered around another mouthful of popcorn.

  “He’s a bloody rock star. He’s sharing that stage with Sting, Bruce Springsteen, and John Mellencamp for goodness sake.” Rhia said, feeling betrayed and not being able to express why she felt that way. “U2 and the Rolling Stones are due on that stage tomorrow.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that the boy writes songs. I’ve gotta say that Bono sure is a nice fellow. Sting is too, although I have to admit I like his wife even better. Trudy Styler is one class act, she is.”

  “You know Bono? And Sting?” Rhia asked falling back onto the couch.

  “Hey now. There’s no need to upset the corn. Settle down my girl. They’re just people you know. Same as you and me, only with better sunglasses. Although, if Bono wasn’t married, I’d set my cap for that one.” Flossie patted her gray hair where she styled it into a French twist. The woman had to be ninety if she was a day and she had the hots for Bono.

  And I’m married to an international rock star.

  That’s it, Rhia thought, I’m going to start drinking in the afternoon. “This can’t be real” Rhia muttered to herself. Then she heard her husband’s resonant voice clearly coming from the surround-sound speakers that probably cost more than she made in a month. And she made plenty, dammit.

  “I wrote this next song for my wife, who no doubt is plenty irritated with me at the moment.” He
smiled his ‘aw shucks’ smile at the crowd and they ate it up.

  She was going to wring his neck even if she had to stand on a step stool to do it.

  Then he looked directly at the camera, directly at her. “I love you Rí. This one’s for you.” Then he started to play and the crowd was swept up in the magic of his song. It was only Ram and a grey-haired man in a cowboy hat and braids playing their guitars, only Ram’s voice singing, but the magic was palpable.

  Then Ram’s whisky rich tone hit her and Rhia was as mesmerized as the crowd.

  “She was born in the mist...where the God and Goddess play...

  She was born of a kiss in the early light of day...

  And her voice speaks redemption...redemption...

  And she dances in moonlight...she dances in day...

  I call her to me with my whiskey and my song...

  And she dances on my strings

  And her voice speaks redemption...redemption...

  She speaks to me of music as she dances on my strings

  She sings of second chances and the beauty of things...

  like love and life...and second chances...

  And her voice screams redemption...my lady of the mist...

  She spins her magic web around me and she pulls me in...

  She showers me with kisses from her lips...

  My lady of the mist...my sweet lady of the mist...

  She was born of mist...where the God and Goddess play

  My sweet Rhia Le Fay...my lady of the mist...who was born of a kiss...

  My lady of the mist...

  And your voice screams redemption for the likes of me...

  Redemption...

  Ram’s voice trailed off with the last strum of his guitar string. His eyes opened slowly and for a moment the crowd remained hushed until the last note resonated through them and fell silent.

  “That ladies and gentlemen was for my wife, Rhiannon, Goddess of my heart.” He smiled at the camera a moment and winked, at her, before his attention was once more fully on the crowd who came to see him play. There had to be eighty-thousand people in the amphitheater, and they were all screaming for him.

  “Okay people let’s kick it up a notch.” Ram yelled.

  He nodded toward the older man next to him who switched guitars and then they were playing real rock and roll. The crowd loved it. It was easy to see why. Ram was incredibly charismatic on stage. He flirted, he moved his hips in ways that should have been illegal. He was amazing, he loved the music and it showed.

  The funds raised from this two day concert, featuring artists from every genre and many continents, were all going to hurricane victim relief. Ram was right. He could do more good in two days than she, or anyone else she knew, could do alone. That didn’t mean she wasn’t trying to do her part. She’d wired money for food and water.

  When she was done shouting at Ram for not telling her the whole truth she was going to kiss him and tell him how proud she was of him and how much his song moved her.

  She and Flossie watched the rest of the concert in silence, enjoying each other’s company, watching a man they both loved woo a stadium full of strangers.

  “That boy didn’t lie.” Flossie smiled at her. “And he sure can carry a tune. Wait till you hear him play the fiddle and that harp he keeps hidden. Hard not to love that boy, but that doesn’t make it any easier, does it?” Flossie asked, a wealth of knowledge sparkling in her black eyes.

  “No Flossie, it doesn’t make it any easier. And that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give him hell the minute I see him.” Rhia said fiercely.

  Flossie’s smile broadened in her wrinkled face. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Neither would he. That boy needs a strong hand, even if it’s attached to a small woman.”

  Rhia leaned down and kissed Floss’s papery cheek. “Who you calling small, old woman? I’m a veritable giant next to you.”

  Flossie’s crackling laughter followed her half way to her room. A room curiously empty now that her green-eyed-rock-star-husband was an ocean away.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “How bad is it Flossie?” Ram asked not really expecting a positive response.

  “I ought to chap your bloody hide boyo. That sweet girl had to find out about you on the telly. I ought to take you over my knee. Indeed I should.” Floss grumbled at him. She sounded tired. He didn’t mean to worry her. Floss was a strong woman but she hadn’t been young since long before the almost three decades she’d been in his life and there was no stopping the toll of time.

  “Is everything okay there? You sound tired Flossie.” It was as far as Ram dare go. Inquiries about Floss’s health were rarely met with thanks.

  “Don’t you change the subject Ramsey Macleod. That sweet girl has been busy typing on that portable computer of hers all week. She says she’s leaving for up north in the morning. You better hope she comes back or I’ll have that nice Benjamin go a few rounds with you.”

  It wasn’t an idle threat. Ben Stark loved Flossie and would do just about anything she asked, including going nine rounds in the ring with his boss. She was the only person Ram knew who got away calling Stark, ‘Benjamin’. He didn’t let most people call him ‘Ben’, but Stark answered ‘yes ma’am’ whenever Flossie used his full name.

  “Leaving? What do you mean, up north?” Ram’s voice was harsh.

  Flossie smiled into the phone, glad she finally had his attention. “She said something about Snowdonia and from there she was heading into Scotland. Wants to see the highlands, she said.”

  “Put her on Flossie.” Ram ordered.

  Flossie smiled again and gave a fake cough. The boy usually saw through her more obvious manipulations. He wasn’t on his game today. “She’s not talking to you, Ramsey Macleod. Not on the phone anyway. You’ve finished your benefit. It’s time you got your sorry tail home and fix this.”

  “Flossie, you tell her to get her sweet ass...”

  “Sorry boy. I’m seem to be losing the connection.”

  “Flossie don’t hang...”

  “Ram, my boy, I can’t make out what you’re saying. When you get home you should have these lines checked. See you soon.” Floss hung up the phone, Ram’s sputtering curses ringing in her ears.

  Good, she thought, smiling to herself. The boy did the work his gift demanded, but now it was time to come home and soothe his wife’s temper.

  The phone rang again almost as soon as the handle reached the receiver. Floss unplugged it and every other phone in the house. Since there were only two, one in the study and one in the kitchen, it didn’t take long.

  Rhia came out of her room carrying the empty tray Floss left for her lunch. “Has Ram called yet?” She asked.

  “He should be along anytime now I suspect.” Flossie said by way of answer. She made a habit of never knowingly lying. The Goddess frowned on out-right lies. Deception now, that was another thing entirely.

  ...

  Ram spent the next hour on the phone with his agent trying to set up a deal for his new solo material. He also paid a visit to his drummer in rehab and contacted the other members of Purple Orchid. Cowboy already knew Ram planned to spend some time on his solo work and his marriage before he thought of touring again with the band.

  The other members were surprisingly supportive. They wanted Charlie, the drummer, to get clean before they worried about Purple Orchid and recording new material.

  That done, Ram booked the first flight out, missing Ben Stark’s message completely.

  ...

  Rhia was gone by the time Ram got back to Pentla. Unfortunately, no matter how he tried to intimidate her, Flossie either didn’t know or wasn’t telling where Rhia went or when she planned on returning.

  Ram scribbled a quick note and booked the next flight to Milwaukee. Two could play at this game, he thought. Of the two of them, Ram had faith that his devious nature surpassed his wife’s.

  “Where are you off to now boy?” Floss asked not unkindly. “You
just got home.”

  Ram threw some items in his carry case that he wanted including the book of songs he’d been working on since he’d met her.

  “Excuse me, Flossie.” Ram said picking the tiny woman up and moving her out of his way. He knew she’d follow him but it would take her awhile. She didn’t move quite as quickly anymore.

  He made his way to Rhia’s room, searched her desk and the coffee table before finally finding what he was looking for in the night stand next to her bed. He was taking that sex manual. He didn’t want her getting any more ideas before he had her sleeping next to him again. He wasn’t adverse to learning a new trick or two himself, but he was relatively certain her little book didn’t contain anything he hadn’t already perfected, or at least tried.

  He pulled the book out and found Rhia’s leather sketch book underneath. He sat on the bed paging through it. She’d been busy since he was gone. The book was filled with sketches of him: barefoot and bare-chested in her room playing his guitar. She’d gotten his expression perfect as he lost himself in the music. There was one of him on stage with Cowboy at the benefit for the hurricane victims with a massive crowd behind.

  There was even one of him stalking her on the bed with a grin on his face, more lecherous than any expression he could possibly have conjured.

  Paging through, he saw sketches of Flossie eating popcorn on the couch, a group singing at the pub while Molly passed out drinks, and a pen and ink sketch of the Roman aqueduct at the end of town that included Ponty’s winding stream. More than any other topic on her pages Ram saw images of himself that made his eyes burn and his heart hurt. Rhia loved him, that much was obvious in her sketches. He could tell that she truly loved Ponty too.