“International flights suck. You can rest soon. Ty should have the car brought around by the time we make it through this jungle.”
I hurried to keep pace next to him, taking two steps for each of his one. “You know I could’ve caught a cab or an Uber to the hotel, saved you the trouble of coming to get me. I mean, shouldn’t you be at the arena for sound check?”
“You have an Uber. It’s called Ty. Everything’s under control. Dawson would have my a…” He cleared his throat. “…rear if I didn’t take care of getting you to the hotel safely myself.”
“No worries. It’s good to see you.”
“You ain’t foolin’ me, Izzy. I know you’re itching to get to the hotel and see Dawson. I’m just the consolation prize.”
I squeezed him around his waist. “You’re no consolation prize. But you’re right. I’m dying to see Dawson. I hope traffic is light. This has been the longest month of my life.”
“You guys have had longer stretches apart than this.”
“I know. But it doesn’t get any easier. And with the gossip rags always speculating about what he’s up to, it’s hard to be away from each other.” I hated voicing my insecurities. They were all mine. Dawson had never given me any indication that he was anything less than a hundred percent faithful.
Joe halted. “You know he’s not up to anything, right?” His face was serious.
Swallowing hard, I nodded. “I do. It’s just tough reading what they all think the bad boy of rock is doing and who he’s doing it with.”
He clasped my shoulder. “I know. But I can tell you, once he leaves the stage every night, he has me escort him back to the bus or hotel. Alone.”
Though I knew what he said to be true, it still felt good hearing someone else confirm it. “Thanks.”
Joe stepped through the glass door, but held his arm up, keeping me behind him. He turned this way and that, examining each person on the sidewalk outside. No doubt assessing any potential threat.
“Joe, there’s no need to be so cautious. I’m a nobody. People don’t know who I am.”
“Can never be too cautious. If anything ever happened to you, I don’t know what would happen to Dawson. Come on. There’s Ty.”
He led me to the sleek stretch SUV parked illegally along the curb. Ty leaned against the passenger door, looking like he belonged in the back being chauffeured around, not the front. A wide smile broke out on his face when he saw me. In three quick steps, he swept me up in his arms, squeezing tightly. After setting me back on my feet, he said, “I’m so glad you’re here. Maybe D will stop sulking so much now.”
I chuckled as he moved to open the back door for me.
“How long until we get to the hotel?” I asked him.
“With traffic, probably thirty minutes. It’s only about ten miles. But getting out of the airport will take a bit.”
I eased into the dark cavern provided by the black windows. “You gonna ride back here with me?” I asked Ty as I perched in the doorframe.
“Naw. Got to um… discuss security stuff for the next show. But D should be finished up, so you can call him.”
“OK. Thanks for picking me up, guys.”
“Sure thing, Izzy.” Ty shut the door.
I stayed on the edge of my seat, staring out the window in disbelief that once again I was on the other side of the world. The small-town girl from South Carolina.
“You gonna stare out the window the whole ride or you gonna come give me a kiss hello?” a voice materialized from the far side of the vehicle.
I jumped with a gasp. “Daw, you’re really here?” Oblivious to the motion beneath me, I launched myself across the empty space to the bench seat lining the back of the vehicle.
A quick tap of the brakes sent me tumbling as Joe pulled into the flow of traffic.
“Izzy, are you OK?” Strong arms reached down and pulled me from the carpeted floor onto the leather seat.
“I’m good. No, better than good. I’m phenomenal. You’re here.” My hands cupped his jaw, needing to feel him. “You’re supposed to be at sound check.”
“I rearranged. I didn’t want to wait a second longer than necessary to have you in my arms.” His hold tightened around me.
My fingers traced his face, reacquainting themselves with every breathtaking feature—the prickly scruff along his jaw adding a depth to his face, high chiseled cheekbones, perfect Roman nose, long sweeping lashes, whiskey-colored orbs, plump lips that quivered beneath my touch, deep dimple in one cheek, lush dark hair peeking from the edge of his beanie.
His eyes and fingers were making the same journey across my face—no doubt spinning lyrics in his mind as he went. “God, I’ve missed your face,” he breathed against my skin.
“Shut up and kiss me,” I rasped.
Wrapping his hand around the back of my neck, his fingers threaded through my hair as he pressed my mouth to his. The instant our lips collided the emptiness inside my chest filled up. His free hand gripped my hip and nudged me closer. Recklessly, I threw one leg across his lap, so that I straddled him. Pressure at the small of my back urged me closer to him. Oblivious to our surroundings, I poured every ounce of love, longing and desperation into the kiss. Words had never been my strong suit, but hopefully my body language spoke volumes.
Satisfied that I wasn’t planning to divorce my mouth from his anytime soon, Dawson let go of my head. He tugged on the hem of my shirt where it was pinned between us. I shifted slightly, freeing the fabric without tearing my lips from his. Calloused fingers ghosted up my side leaving gooseflesh to rise in their wake. The trip north was torturously slow. By the time they reached the underside of my bra, I ached for his touch. His thumb grazed my nipple through the cotton fabric. Instinctually, I arched into his caress.
His other hand ran along the waistband of my leggings, dipping inside when they reached the front. I rose to my knees, hoping he’d yank my pants down. My own hands flew to be of assistance. From the seat beside us a mechanical voice said, “Destination ten minutes away.”
Pulling back so I could form words, I breathed, “What was that?”
“We’re ten minutes from the hotel.”
“That’s not long enough,” I whined. I was desperate to feel him inside me, filling and completing me.
“It might not be long enough for me to make love to you—”
“It’s not long enough for a fu… quickie either.” Wow, I was so far gone, I nearly used the word I loathed.
“No. But like I was about to say, it is long enough for me to send you into orbit.”
“Oh, yeah, Mr. HotShot?”
“Yeah,” he growled. “I might have needed ten minutes when we were sixteen. But over the years I’ve come to know your body better than my own. I don’t even need half that time.”
“Take your best shot,” I egged him on, knowledge that I’d reap the benefits of the challenge in my tone. He knew it too.
“Have I ever told you how much I love leggings?”
His fingers dove beneath my damp panties and began to stroke my folds. My breath hitched, and I melded my mouth to his. My tongue thrust into his mouth in a mirror image of what his fingers were doing to my core. His thumb wrote lyrics of heaven and bliss on my swollen nub. Ripping my lips from his, I threw my head back and moaned.
Wet, open-mouthed kisses littered my neck. Warmth rushed to the surface of my skin as I soared higher and higher. And then, with murmured words of love, I tipped over the edge and slowly floated back from heaven.
“That might be a new record for me,” Dawson panted against my skin as he withdrew his fingers from me.
I ground my center against the bulge in his crotch, making him groan my name.
“You’re going to make me walk through the lobby with a raging boner?” he panted.
“You’re going to make me walk through it with a blissed out orgasmic face. I’d say we’re even.”
Other books by Charli:
Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series
Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series
Beats of the Heart (book 1)
Notes of the Heart (book 2)
Songs of the Heart (book 3)
Melody of the Heart (book 3.5 currently available to newsletter subscribers, sign up here)
Turn up the Tempo (book 4)
Sonnets in the Sky (book 5) – coming 2021
Blood Song Series:
Blood Song: Prelude (book 1)
Blood Song: Refrain (book 2)
Blood Song: Coda (book 3)
Standalone
Memory of a Melody
About the Author
So, I know these things are generally written in third person as if someone else is talking about me. But I just can’t do it. LOL. It may be “unprofessional” but I’m just me. And I hope that’s OK with you guys.
I’m a Carolina girl, through and through. I’ve lived in North Carolina my whole life. I’m a wife, a mom, a scientist, a freelance editor and an author. I wear many hats and wield many pens.
For as long as I can remember, reading has been my favorite way to pass the time. I always have a book with me and usually am reading more than one at any given time. Editing for indie authors gave me a unique glimpse into the indie publishing world. It’s a world I’m really enjoying becoming a part of. Writing is a dream I never realized I had until I put the first words on the page. And now I have these characters living in my head, telling me their stories.
Let’s Keep in Touch
I’d love to hear from you guys. Tell me what you think of Brooks and Britt. Tell me what you’d like to see me write next. Recommend a great book for me to check out. Let me know what typos you found within my pages. Whatever you want, I want to hear from you.
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/dBkmHL
Website: https://charlirosewriter.wixsite.com/website
Email: [email protected]
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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18580797.Charli_B_Rose
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Acknowledgments
Now, to tap out the most important part of any of my books. And though, I’ve written several of these by now, I still find the acknowledgements to be the most challenging part of closing out a manuscript. I’m not convinced that anyone reads them, but I still agonize over this need to get this part just right. There are so many people who’ve been instrumental in my writing journey, and on the off chance that they stumble upon these words, I want them to know how much I genuinely appreciate what they’ve done for me. I pray I remember everyone who I owe gratitude to.
My husband is always first on my list. He is unwavering in his support of me. He truly believes that I can be successful in anything I set out to do. I love him so much.
My little boy has his father’s steadfast belief in me as well. He is my heart.
So many family and friends have touched my life, shaping me into this person who is trying to create love stories with real emotions. I thank them.
My beta readers are the absolute best. They’re always willing to read my unpolished words and find its potential. They tell me where I need more and where I can stop worrying. Leslie, Crystal, Jill, Krysta, Heather, Amanda, Marcy, Michelle, Bec, and Tonya, thank you so much for all you do.
My dear friend, Susan, is not just a true friend, she’s also an amazing artist. She has this incredible gift for taking just a few small things I tell her about a story and turning them into this stunning incarnation of my book. There aren’t enough words to say thank you.
There are so many author friends who’ve supported me. I’m not even going to attempt to list them all because I’d surely forget one.
Silvia, thanks for encouraging me and easing my doubts as you cleaned up my prose.
Nathanie, you always give me something to think about when I go through your notes. Thank you for that.
I’m honored to have been allowed to include a few other authors’ creations in Trystan and Willa’s story. I highly recommend their books. Thank you, Saffron A. Kent for allowing me to have Willa read one of my favorite reads of the year, My Darling Arrow. You can check out that book here. And thank you, CD Reiss for letting me include another phenomenal read from this year, Iron Crowne. CD was one of the first indie authors I found. She’s been such an inspiration to me. Check out Iron Crowne here. And the amazing Chef Eli who ran the Southern Charms restaurant is the creation of my friend, Jessica Peterson. I highly recommend you read Southern Charmer. Read it here.
Now, I must thank my ARC team. With each release, I rely on you more and more to keep me motivated and encouraged. You make me excited about my own books.
Charli’s Rockin’ Readers, you guys are the place in Facebook land that I enjoy most. I enjoy interacting with you all so much. Thank you for indulging me every day.
To all the bloggers who shared, read, encouraged — I’ll never be able to thank you enough.
And last, but never least, to you, the readers who picked up this book instead of a different one, thank you. Please reach out and let me know what you thought of the book. If you enjoyed Memory of a Melody, please consider leaving a review on Amazon for it.
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