“Hey, darlin’. So, what do you want to do tonight?”
Casey grinned into the receiver. “If you’ve never been to New York before, I’ve got some pretty good ideas.”
Several minutes later, Casey linked her arm with Sam’s, cozying up to him as they walked on the uneven sidewalk down Fiftieth Street toward Tenth Avenue. The air was chilly and she was glad to have her red wool coat for the weekend. Her eyes caught his and they grinned at each other as if knowing the night ahead was going to be special. He pulled her into his side and snaked his arm around her waist as they walked over the subway grates that expelled puffs of warm steam.
“You sure you know your way around this concrete jungle?” he asked as he leaned into her ear so she could hear him over the sounds of traffic.
“Oh yes. You’re safe with me.”
After walking several blocks, they made their way across a crowded intersection into a corner building with a large sign displaying the Tex-Mex restaurant logo, El Original. Sam held the door open for her and they were greeted with the delicious aroma of grilled meat and lime. Casey asked the hostess to seat them at a high-top table near the small stage that held an upright piano, the whole area looking like it had been made out of old barn wood, haphazardly nailed together.
“This place is cool. I didn’t expect a Tex-Mex place in the heart of the city.” He grinned at her while he took off his black, leather jacket and laid it over the back of a chair.
“It’s kind of a local hangout for artists. They have live music every night. I thought you’d like it. And by the way, tonight is on me.” She shrugged off her coat and waved at the waitress to come over before he could object.
“Cool!”
The waitress approached their table, popping her gum in her mouth. The minute she spoke, her northern accent was apparent. “What’ll ya have?” she asked, the word “have” sounding more like “hiev.”
Sam quickly grabbed a menu and was about to open it up before Casey grasped his wrist. “Do you mind if I order for us?” she asked.
One side of his face turned up into a smile and he raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Okay….”
“Two shots of Roca Patron, chilled,” she started with confidence. “Two Negra Modelo and a plate of your Borracho nachos with Chorizo and ground beef.”
The waitress didn’t blink and continued to chew her gum like a cow chewing its cud. “You want some chips and salsa with dat?”
“That would be great, thanks.”
The woman took the menus and walked away, her hips sashaying to the rhythm of her chewing.
“Wow. I feel spoiled,” Sam said as he leaned his elbows on the round table top. His blue eyes sparkled like stars in the sky.
Casey grinned and couldn’t help but reach out and touch his baby soft chin. “I’m kind of diggin’ the fresh-faced look.” She ran her index finger across his lips before leaning back in her chair.
Sam pulled his fingers down his chin as if he were feeling his goatee that was no longer there. “Yeah, I like to change it up now and again. Keep you on your toes,” he replied playfully.
“Well, you look incredibly handsome, mister.”
He laughed out loud just as the waitress deposited their bottled beers on the table. “I’ll be right back with the shats,” she said.
When he looked right at Casey, his eyebrows raised. “Shats?” He mimicked, and laughed again. They raised their bottles and toasted, maintaining steady eye contact. Casey felt like a million bees buzzed underneath her skin as she anticipated the evening alone with him.
“You have no idea how happy I was to see you at the airport.” She took a sip of her beer. “Why couldn’t Greg make it last minute?” Greg was their regular drummer. He was also the leader of another corporate band as well as a drum teacher working out of a small studio in his house.
“Well, you have Greg’s daughter to thank for that. It’s her ninth birthday this weekend and he didn’t want to let her down by missing it. I believe he’s taking her to the American Girl store at one of the mega malls with about ten of her little friends for a party. He’s a good guy for not missing out on that.”
The no-nonsense waitress deposited their chilled shots on the table with a small dish of cut up limes. Casey picked up one of the shots and held it in the air. “Here’s to Greg allowing you to make the trip.”
Sam picked up the other shot glass and clinked it with hers. “Here, here!” They downed the tequila and made funny faces across from each other as they sucked on lime wedges.
When the humongous plate of Tex-Mex nachos arrived, they dug in and enjoyed the tall, thin musician who began to play classic show tunes on the upright piano. His playing attracted an attentive restaurant audience, and folks took up most of the seating around the stage area while others stood in the bar listening, sometimes singing along. Sam’s reaction was priceless taking it all in. He had a perpetual grin on his face as he ate and drank with pleasure. At one point, the entire bar was singing at the top of their lungs, both of them joining the raucous chorus.
“This is way too cool! Is it the norm here?”
Casey nodded. “Welcome to New York!”
A giant fish bowl sat on top of the piano and started to overflow with tips in no time. As the skinny musician took a break and hopped off the stage, Sam started to get up.
“I’ll be right back. I just want to tell the guy how great he is and how much we’re enjoying his playing.”
Casey nodded and watched him walk right up to the piano player to shake his hand. They bantered back and forth, laughing and nodding their heads, engaged in a friendly conversation. She sighed resting her chin on her propped-up hand on the table. Sam was so handsome in his blue jeans and long-sleeved black shirt. Her eyes drank in his biceps and strong hands, his jeans perfectly fitted to his toned body. She loved his clean-shaven face and knew without a doubt that his baby blues were going to draw her in for a long, sensual kiss before the night was over. He wasn’t shy, that was for certain. He was always so friendly and encouraging to everyone he met or worked with. He briskly walked back to their table, excited, bringing her out of her swoon session.
“So, the guy’s name is Luther Penn. He’s been in several Broadway musicals, and plays here off and on when he’s between shows. He’s got a Djembe in the closet and wants me to jam with him during the next set. Can you believe we know some of the same drum cats from Atlanta?” He shook his head and smiled his mega-watt grin. “This city rocks!” He tilted back what was left of his beer and then unexpectedly kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks for taking me out tonight Casey. I’m having a blast!”
“You’re welcome.” She grinned, watching him make his way back to the stage to help Luther get the drum in position.
During the next set, the two musicians played together like they’d been doing it for years. Casey could watch him play all night—the way he moved his body to the rhythm and bit his lower lip the more complicated the riff, the way he closed his eyes and concentrated on nothing but the music. She was totally enthralled by him as she sipped her beer. The crowd was totally into it and when Luther introduced Sam to everyone in between songs, he took a bashful bow and blew Casey a kiss.
A sax player joined the jam session mid-way through the set and the entire area around the stage became standing room only. Casey couldn’t help but giggle, thrilled Sam’s first night in New York would be a night he wouldn’t soon forget. When the set ended, he came back to their table, high-fiving people along the way, breathless and full of life.
“God, what a night!” He grabbed the new beer Casey ordered for him and chugged half of it. She watched his every move while trying to suppress a knowing smile. “What?” he asked wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and catching his breath. He licked his lips and stared at her. “You sure are a pretty date.”
His comment caused heat to permeate her face. “The night isn’t over yet,” she said coyly. There was one more place she had in mind to take him t
o. “Do you want to stay here or do you want to go to one more place that I think you’ll like even better?”
He raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I’m game for wherever you want to take me, darlin’. You sure can pick ‘em!” He drained the last of his beer as Casey started to put on her coat. She’d already paid the tab and was anxious to move on to their next adventure. He helped get her arm through the sleeve and turned her around to face him, buttoning her up very slowly and deliberately.
“I don’t want you catching a cold on our way to wherever it is we’re going.” He finished the top button and brought both of his hands up to her cheeks. Staring into her eyes, she watched him lick his lips again. Her chest rose and fell in a deep breath before she thrust herself forward and kissed his mouth hard, surprising him. His hands found their way to her back and she moaned with pleasure when he pulled her into his warm body. The waitress came back by their table during the kiss to drop off change.
“Get a room,” she mumbled, popping her gum. This made Casey giggle into Sam’s mouth. He laughed too. They pulled back from each other, not saying a word, knowing that tonight would probably be the night they ended up in the same room together. So Casey hoped.
Chapter Seven
The subway wasn’t crowded, which allowed Casey and Sam to sit next to each other on the ride to West Tenth Street in Greenwich Village. He held her small hand and stroked his thumb across her skin. “Where are you taking me?” he asked softly, bringing her hand up to his lips for a soft kiss, the lights flickering in the underground tunnel.
She shook her head. “It’s a surprise.”
A few stops later they exited the train, which deposited them into the trendy Soho area. Beautiful brownstone buildings lined the streets that housed tenants and hip restaurants, coffee shops and boutiques. She pulled Sam anxiously by the hand for a few blocks until they were standing in front of an ancient red-painted building with a black lacquered door. An awning with the word, Smalls jutted out, sheltering the entrance, and the distinct, lithe sounds of jazz music filtered through the door into the night air.
Sam bit his lip as if trying to suppress a smile. “Oh, no you didn’t,” was all he could say. Casey pulled open the heavy door and led him to a narrow staircase down to the basement of the building. The sensuous music became louder and louder with each step, and an old man sitting on a rickety stool greeted them at the bottom of the stairs ready to collect the cover charge of twenty dollars per person.
Sam went to grab his wallet out of his pants pocket but Casey beat him to it handing over two twenties. “Girl! This is way too much!” He insisted.
Waving him off, she gave him a look of adoration. “Boy, I told you, tonight is on me.” Exhilarated, she determinedly grasped his hand and pulled him through the eclectic room with a seating capacity for about sixty people. At one end of the space was a small stage positioned against a wall of mirrors. A piano player was hunched over the baby grand, playing intently, while a tall, lanky guy with a ZZ Top beard plucked an upright bass. A drummer on a small kit, and two hipster horn players completed the group. Several chairs sat along another wall parallel to a long, narrow bar across the room. Rows and rows of benches and chairs were tightly situated in the middle of the space in such a way as to accommodate as many die-hard jazz connoisseurs as possible.
Casey pulled Sam into a vacant corner raised on a platform so they could get a better view of the full stage. They took their coats off and he couldn’t stop grinning, bobbing his head to the beat of the music. Casey knew she’d scored big time bringing him to the famous club where local jazz musicians played until four in the morning. There were lots of ways to a man’s heart. The way to Sam’s was through jazz. When he put his arm around her and pulled her close, he didn’t say a word and dramatically placed his free hand over his heart with gratitude, which made her laugh.
“You can thank me later,” she said, leaning into his ear. With a raised eyebrow, he offered her a big nod.
They sipped on snifters of amber cognac and enjoyed the syncopated rhythms of the local New York artists as they played, each musician showcasing impressive improv abilities. Several times, Casey noticed Sam with his eyes closed, totally immersed in the music fusion. As each song ended, he would hoot and holler, his face beaming with appreciation.
“This is fantastic!” he yelled over the applause, clapping excitedly. He talked her through several numbers, speaking very closely into her ear, filling her in on the style and influence of the music. Casey was captivated by his knowledge of jazz, thrilled he was animatedly opening himself up to her.
After two cocktails, she excused herself to go the bathroom. In the small, one stall room she looked at her flushed face in the mirror. Her eyes were alive and sparkling and she realized she hadn’t had this much fun with a man in ages. Her insides fluttered, thinking about what was next. She knew she wanted him and didn’t think she’d be capable of holding back any longer. When she came out of the bathroom, canned music was playing out of speakers in the ceiling while the group on stage dispersed, making room for the next round of local musicians. Sam stood when she got back to the table.
“It’s almost two in the morning, can you believe it?” He looked wide awake.
“This place doesn’t close till four a.m. Are you up for it or are you ready to leave?” She held her breath, hoping for the answer she wanted to hear.
Leaning over, he grabbed her red coat, and held it open for her to put on. “I’d like to take you back to my room now,” he replied huskily.
Oh my….
Back at their hotel, the elevator closed and they both watched the digital numbers ascend. The doors opened with a whoosh, and Sam silently took her by the hand and led her down the long hotel hallway to his room. He placed the keycard into the scanner, which clicked immediately, and palmed the door, opening it wide for her to enter. The room was dark except for soft shadows coming from the muted TV on an unknown channel.
Casey looked around. “Yep. Your room looks exactly like mine—” His mouth suddenly clamped over hers, stopping her mid-sentence, the kiss zealous and eager. One hand fisted into her long hair and the other traveled down her backside, firmly gripping her butt. She grabbed at his belt buckle, desperate to free his hardness from his blue jeans. When he lifted her shirt over her head, he threw it haphazardly across the room before whipping off his own in a matter of seconds. They only slowed down when they were both naked and curious, standing back to gaze at one another in the shadows of the changing scenes on the television screen.
“Oh my lord, you are so sexy,” he whispered. She had to admit, she felt sexy standing before him, naked and ready. Sam was solid and firm and his penis pointed directly at her. “Come here,” he requested as he held his hands out to her. She let herself be consumed in his arms, the warmth of his body enveloping her skin. When he guided her gently onto the edge of the bed, she looked up at his dark, impressive frame backlit by the TV light. “Hold that thought,” he said and trotted over to a laptop sitting on the desk. He scrolled through a music file and pressed a few buttons before smooth jazz started to play. Clicking off the television, he reached into his computer case nearby and pulled out a condom, placing it on the bed next to her. “I’ve been fantasizing about this moment.”
“Me too,” she admitted, holding her arms open for him to come into her embrace. Stretching her naked body across the bed, he straddled her, bending down to kiss her full breasts. She moaned with pleasure as his hands caressed her sides and eased their way down to her thighs where he paused to stroke her pubic hair while nipping at her ear.
As his fingers slid into her wetness, he whispered, “I’m going to make love to you Casey. You’re so ready.”
She grabbed his penis with one hand and squeezed. “Oh, yes.”
Hoisting his body into a kneeling position on top of her, she watched as he ripped the foil packet of the condom and quickly place it over his shaft. Leaning forward on his elbows positioned on both sides
of her face and heaving with anticipation, he stared at her. The blue of his piercing eyes was eclipsed by dark, hungry pupils. Without saying a word, he slid easily inside of her wet folds. The pleasure was immediate, and he filled her completely, his undeniable rhythm catapulting her into comfortable oblivion.
Chapter Eight
Casey spent the next several hours in Sam’s hotel room where they made love again and again. It was almost tribal the way they went after one another, consumed with a ravenous passion. As the night disappeared into sunrise, they lay in each other’s arms, exhausted, fully content. In a satiated daze, she watched the sun peek under the drawn curtains as Sam lazily stroked her bare skin while they spooned in the warm cocoon of the king-sized bed. When his breathing finally slowed and his hand went limp into slumber, she arose quietly and dressed. She didn’t want to wake him but couldn’t help but pause and take the opportunity to look at her lover sprawled across the white linen sheets.
Sighing sleepily, she knew she had given herself to him completely; wholly. And then she grinned naughtily as she did the “walk of shame” through the hotel hallways carrying her shoes, coat, and purse in her hands, hoping she wouldn’t run into one of her band mates.
Once she was safely inside her room with the do-not-disturb-sign on the door, she was ready for at least a few hours of sleep before their sound check. Laying her head on the pillow, she stared dreamily into space before succumbing to sleep, satisfied she and Sam had finally crossed that line. Casey was ready for whatever lay ahead with him, and as she drifted off into a deep sleep, the soft melody of their love song quietly hummed in her ears.
***
The green room set up for the band was chock full of every beverage imaginable. Casey eyed the full pot of coffee that beckoned her with its warm aroma and filled a tall Styrofoam cup to the rim. She could hear Sam in the ballroom next door hitting his snare drum over and over while tuning it. Anxious to see him in the daylight, it was hard not to disturb him during the sound checking process. This was, after all, a well-paying gig and she was a professional. At least there was a text waiting for her when she woke up. It simply said, “These pillows smell like you.”
Love Song: A friends-to-lovers rock & roll romantic suspense Page 5