Tyler grinned. “I can do that.” He picked his t-shirt up off the floor and then waved his hand toward the living room area. He cupped his crotch and adjusted, and Megan felt bad. She hadn’t known she’d already had him so worked up. She hoped she would feel confident enough to take care of him later.
She laid her bra on the arm of the couch and Tyler said, “This is a gas fireplace. I can start a fire. I know it’s July and all…”
“No, that sounds fun. It is kind of chilly in here.”
He threw his t-shirt on the coffee table. “And what do they expect from musicians anyway?”
She smiled. “Do you mind if I get a glass of water?”
“Sure that’s all you want? There plenty to drink here…fully stocked bar.”
She must have seemed even more nervous than she felt. “Water would be fine, really.”
“Want some ice?”
“Maybe…”
So once he had the fire going, he took the ice bucket and left the room momentarily. She used that time to observe his unclothed torso. Tyler’s skin had been uninked when they’d been together as teenagers, but he’d spent the last decade with tattoo artists having their way with his skin. Megan grinned, wondering what some of the other guests would think, seeing his decorated body traipse down the hall in search of ice. Of course, it was late, and there wasn’t much of a chance at this point that he’d be spotted.
But while he was out of the room, she tried to imagine his tattoos again. There were a lot. He didn’t have any sleeves, but he was well on his way. He only had a couple on his back, but they were noticeable and large. She didn’t have much chance to decipher the pictures, but maybe later she could check them out as though she were in an art gallery. That was the hope.
Tyler had been a cute teen, but he had grown up to be fucking hot. And Megan had been a fun-loving young girl. Now she was a nervous spaz. What the hell was wrong with her that she couldn’t just relax and enjoy herself?
Maybe she should have just one drink.
Tyler returned with the ice and bolted the door behind him. Megan looked up from the couch and smiled as he turned around. He set the ice bucket on the bar that wrapped around half the kitchen. She stood up, walking toward him. “I was thinking maybe a little drink wouldn’t hurt.”
“Would you rather have some wine?”
“What do you have here already?”
He opened the refrigerator. The entire top shelf was stocked not just with alcohol but cans of soda and some snacks. “Lots of stuff, actually.” He turned around to look at her. “I could make you a rum and Coke. Or…” He looked in the fridge again. “…almost anything and Coke. Jack, Southern Comfort…”
“I guess a rum and Coke would be fine.”
He nodded. “Go sit by the fire and I’ll bring it over.”
“Are you gonna have one too?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
She walked back to the sofa and wound up sitting on one side, resting in a corner without thinking about it. She slid her sandals off and tucked her feet up underneath herself. The fire did feel comforting in the unnaturally cool room. She found herself staring at the flames as they moved about behind the glass screen. Sure, it wasn’t a real fire—there were no cracks or snaps of genuine wood—but it looked and felt right just the same.
Tyler joined her on the couch, and he sat next to her, leaving the remainder of the couch’s expanse behind his back. He handed Megan her drink and set his on the coffee table. “It’s nice, huh?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’d love one of those.”
He smiled and took a sip of his drink. “Whew,” he said, placing the glass on the coffee table. “I have a tendency to make those too strong. I think these ones are just right. How’s yours?”
She took a sip. “It’s fine.”
“Good.” He took a deep breath. “So what did you want to talk about, Megan?”
She felt a shy grin spread across her cheeks and she looked down into the brown liquid in the glass she was holding. “I don’t know. I just…” No…oh, no. There was no way she was going to tell him what she’d really been thinking, that she couldn’t help but think long term. And she also couldn’t tell him she had some weird sort of performance anxiety. But she couldn’t tell him nothing. “I just feel like we don’t really know each other anymore, and it seems kind of strange to just…” Her voice trailed off. She sounded stupid to her own ears.
“Yeah…I hear you.” He slid his index finger under her chin, coaxing her to look up. “If we hadn’t known each other so well back then, it might be easy to just jump in the sack, right?”
She felt a breath escape from between her lips, and relief washed over her. He understood part of what she felt, even if he didn’t know all of it. She nodded but didn’t say anything. Instead, she took a sip of the drink. She didn’t want to get back to the woozy, tipsy state she’d been in earlier. That wouldn’t be good at all. But she did want to keep the edge off as much as possible. Finally, she said, “Yeah. So, I guess I just don’t feel like I know you anymore.”
His mouth screwed up on one side as he considered her words. “Well, hell. I would have sworn you know everything.” He chuckled. “It feels like nothing in my life has been secret the last three years.”
Well, that might have been true, but he didn’t need to know that Megan had avoided as much personal information about Tyler as she could. He didn’t know it would have broken her heart to know if he’d had a serious girlfriend…or a love child…or a wife. She hadn’t wanted to know. She wasn’t about to tell him any of that, or that she knew the answers anyway. “Well, why don’t you tell me about the bands you’ve toured with? Or maybe your favorite venues…or the recording process…or whatever. Those are things I have no clue about.”
He grinned. “Okay.” So he spent the next hour and a half talking about some of his adventures from the last ten years, not just since he’d formed Madversary with three friends but some of his earlier struggles. He talked about Madversary’s rise to the top from his point of view. Because Megan was a metal fan girl, she felt giddy hearing about Tyler’s encounters with some of her favorite bands. Tyler didn’t just talk nonstop; Megan asked questions, keeping him going. He said several times he was afraid of boring her, but he discovered she wasn’t anywhere close to it. And he wasn’t repeating stories he’d told her earlier at the reunion. He was telling her all new stuff, keeping things interesting.
She was, however, growing tired, but she didn’t say anything. She finished off the last of the drink when Tyler said, “So…tell me more about what you’ve done the last ten years, Megan.”
She shrugged. “Believe it or not, you know all there is to know.”
He shook his head deliberately. “I doubt it.” Megan smiled and raised her eyebrows. Tyler said, “Dig deep. Tell me one thing…you’re really proud of that almost no one at the high school reunion knows about.”
He was serious. And she couldn’t think of anything. She didn’t do a lot of volunteer work, even though she’d always meant to. She’d already told him (and others) about her baby, the book club. But…there was one thing. “Well,” she said, placing her empty glass on the coffee table. “Every once in a while, I write a book review for the local paper.”
Tyler smiled. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I love to read the new releases, and if I feel pretty strongly about a book, good or bad, I like to write about it. Anyway, a few years ago, one of my coworkers suggested I contact the newspaper editor. She knew him and set up a meeting, and he said he’d love to do it.”
“You get paid anything for it?”
She giggled. “Five dollars.” She laughed a little more. “But I don’t do it for the money.”
“I didn’t figure….”
She caught herself staring at the fire. Megan knew she could easily drift off to sleep now if her head were resting on a soft pillow. The warm fire, the alcohol, and the fact that she’d relaxed put her there.
&nb
sp; Tyler noticed. He grabbed her left hand. “Are you ready for that backrub now?”
She grinned. How could she turn that down? “Really?”
“Yep. Follow me.” He stood and led her by the hand to the large bedroom right off the living room area. Was he really going to give her a backrub or did he have other intentions? Megan thought she’d be okay with either choice.
Chapter Eleven
WHEN THEY GOT to the bedroom, Megan felt her nerves return just a little. The room was monstrous. It was bigger than any apartment bedroom she’d ever lived in. She didn’t want to know how much Tyler had had to drop on this place, and she was upset that here she was getting all silly again.
But Tyler said, “Go ahead and lie down on your stomach and get cozy.”
Megan smiled and said, “Okay.” He was still without his shirt and she’d managed to not spend the last hour and a half staring at his pecs. But as she turned her head toward the bed, she allowed herself a little peek. Then she moved toward the queen bed with the fluffy brown and multi-colored spread. She lay down and scrunched a pillow under her head, turning it to the side so that her left cheek rested on the pillow.
“Comfortable?” Tyler asked. Megan looked up at him, smiling, and nodded. He’d taken his shoes and socks off and looked pretty comfortable himself. “I’m gonna straddle you at your lower back. If it hurts or something, tell me, okay?”
She was already relaxing again in the softness of the bed. “Mmmm…okay.”
“Do you wanna take your shirt off again? It’d be easier to…”
“Oh…yeah, I guess I should.” She wiggled her hands out from under the pillow to her neck and unbuttoned the shirt at the top. She started to struggle to take it off, but she felt Tyler’s fingers grab it at the collar and the blouse slid off her arms and back, tickling a little on its journey. She thought she was crazy, because she felt like she could sense his confidence through his fingers. And she did relax again. His intentions might have been sexual (as were hers), but he was being sweet and sensitive, and she believed he wouldn’t force himself if she didn’t want him too. But, God, she couldn’t keep getting nervous all night long, could she?
Then his warm, strong hands touched her back. His fingers wrapped around the top of her shoulders and squeezed. “Mmmm….” She couldn’t help almost purring, his touch felt so good.
“You like that?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She felt a smile spread across her face. He gathered her hair together and then rested it up on the pillow, near the crown of her head. He kneaded her flesh and muscle under his strong fingers, and she felt as though she were melting into the bed. He began massaging her back along her shoulder blades and spine, and Megan felt herself slip a notch further into relaxation. Her jaw slackened and it felt like her head and arms had grown heavier. Feeling his legs wrapped around her hips and the sides of her breasts exposed should have made her feel vulnerable and maybe should have made her more aware of her buried desire, but the way his hands worked her back instead just helped her ease into a peaceful state.
Tyler rubbed her back for so long that Megan realized she had started to drift off to sleep. She probably would have stayed asleep had Tyler not said, “How can you carry this much tension all the time?”
She didn’t open her eyes but said, “What?”
She was sure he didn’t know she’d fallen asleep when he said, “You have a lot of knots in your back and you’re pretty stiff. Do you get regular massages?”
On her salary? That was a laugh. But she answered, “No.”
“You should think about it. I’m not trained to do this, and even I can tell you need it.”
Megan muttered, “You might not be trained for it, but you’re good at it.” Megan thought of how Lisa would scream when she heard Megan had Tyler, a rich, famous rock star, giving her a fucking backrub like a paid masseuse.
“Thanks.” His hands continued to work their relaxing magic on her muscles and she felt herself growing drowsy again. But before she could drift off once more, Tyler asked, “How are you feeling now?”
“Fantastic. My God, you’re a genius.”
She heard him chuckle. “No…much as I’d like to take credit for it, I think your back desperately needed the help. Anyone could do what I’m doing.”
“Uhn-uh. You’re good.”
His hands paused at her shoulders and then he brushed his fingertips down her back, tickling the skin enough that she perked up a little. She felt him slide down and lean over. He kissed the back of her neck, just a light peck, but it was enough to make her nipples stiffen. A shiver ran down her arms as she thought she might be ready.
He continued kissing the back of her neck, but his lips were pressing harder now. Then he kissed her earlobe and said, “Do you want to roll over?”
Yes, she was ready. She smiled and forced herself to nod slightly. She felt Tyler lift his body up and she rolled over with a little effort. She couldn’t find the strength to open her eyes, didn’t think she wanted to. She didn’t want to lose the moment. She was willing and in the right place mentally, and she was afraid opening her eyes would break the spell.
She felt warm and relaxed in the pillow-soft bed and she knew then that Tyler was right. She did tend to carry a lot of tension in her neck, shoulders, and upper back, and he’d removed it all. She felt his lips brush hers and she smiled again. Then his lips pressed harder on hers and she opened her mouth, inviting his tongue inside, but she couldn’t even find the strength to wrap her arms around him; instead, they stayed beside her head. As he continued to kiss her, she felt a slight stirring in the pit of her belly, yet she remained relaxed, as though she’d been in a hot tub for an hour or two.
Tyler’s lips left hers and moved lower. His lips were warm against her skin and he traced a line from her neck to her left areola. Once it was in his mouth, it pebbled up again and she realized she was relaxed but growing aroused, and she didn’t know that she’d ever felt both sensations at the same time before. How had Tyler managed to do that, especially now that most of the alcohol had worn off completely?
Somehow her body responded but it wasn’t consciously. She felt her back arch as though willing him to take more of her, and he understood. He cupped her other breast in his hand and gave her other nipple the attention of his dexterous fingers. Those fingers were used to making beautiful music and they were no less expert on her body. She heard a loud breath escape her lips, yet she still had no energy to participate actively.
Soon, he moved his hands to just under her breasts and he kissed her between the cleavage, then drew another line of kisses down to her navel, then past it, right to the top of her pubic bone. There his hands paused just on her hips, and it was then that the fire in Megan’s veins began to burn like it should. As though it were a flood, she felt her blood rush to the nerves in the middle of her body, and then the entire area between her legs started to tingle and grow taut and wet. She was still relaxed, but she was now ready for Tyler in any and every sense.
His fingers felt hot as they unbuttoned her slacks. He unzipped them and pulled them and her panties down and off in one quick, short movement. Then he returned to the bed and his hands coaxed her legs apart at the thighs. She felt her breathing quicken in anticipation. But it felt like he was taking too long. After feeling like she was being rushed earlier, now she felt like Tyler couldn’t move fast enough. It was agonizing. He kissed the inside of her right thigh, sucking at the flesh, making her desperate. He moved his mouth closer and closer to where her legs met, one centimeter at a time, and she sensed her arms moving even though it seemed like she had no control over them. They were still heavy but they obeyed her command to move. She had no power over Tyler either, but maybe she would feel like she did with a hand wound through his hair.
It was soft under her fingertips and long enough that she could wad it up in her fists. But, realizing she was gripping too hard, she forced herself to ease up a little. She felt the heat of his breath closing in on her p
ussy, and that’s when her breathing turned to gasps punctuated by deep, jagged breaths. She bit her lower lip, willing herself to be patient.
So it was no surprise that when his tongue actually touched her, she let out a loud groan. It was one simple stroke of his burning tongue on her clitoris, but it felt like he’d done more to her in that short instant than her last five or six lovers had in hours of sex. “Oh, God….” She was already so close to orgasm and she knew it wouldn’t take long. She wanted to savor every moment, but she didn’t know that there would be very many moments before release. His tongue flicked at her clit again, pushing her closer to that peak, and she felt her thighs tense up. He felt so soft, so warm, so perfect, and…oh, God, he knew how to do it. Just as she thought she might snap, her brain flipped the switch that caused her legs to quiver and her mouth to utter deep moans and sighs as she soared to a place damn near close to heaven. She couldn’t even understand what was coming out of her mouth, but she knew she cried Tyler’s name more than once. And he kept up a relentless rhythm on her until her legs collapsed like they belonged to a ragdoll.
Her breathing slowed and she became aware of Tyler kissing her stomach, working his way back up. But he rested next to her on the bed. She forced herself to open her eyes and she rolled her head over to him. He grinned at her. “Think you could handle a little more?”
Honestly? She felt like gravy now…warm and liquidy. But she wasn’t going to tell him no. She smiled and nodded her head. He reached down and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, then arched his back, lifting his ass up off the bed. Her eyes closed again. God, she really wanted to look more at his body, but he’d worn her out.
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