Sing With Me: A With Me In Seattle Universe Novel
Page 9
I flip him the bird behind my back.
I’ve no intention of doing anything other than castrating Tate Fucking Gordon.
Bastard.
Dick head.
I hate him.
I hate all men.
Why the hell did I stay on this tour?
I’ve been busting my ass after the concert tonight while they’ve been busy picking women to fuck like they’re toys for their pleasure.
They’re all the same.
I hate them.
Pushing hard on the bedroom door, I prepare to confront Tate, but I’m shocked to find him alone and asleep on the bed in just a pair of workout pants. All around him are papers. There’s no woman in sight.
Guilt slams into my chest when he stirs and looks up at me.
“What time is it?” he mumbles his voice thick with sleep.
“Almost one am,” I reply.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep in here. It was a little quieter than the guest room.” He pulls himself up to sitting. “Are you all right? You look stressed.”
“I thought you had a woman in here,” I blurt out.
A smile crosses Tate’s face. “A woman?”
I nod.
“No, just me and lots of pieces of paper.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re not. We’ve not defined this between us, and I think maybe it’s time we did. Come here. Let’s talk.”
Chapter 16
Tate
#SometimesTheSaddnessJustHasToBleedOnto ThePageToCureMe
After returning to the hotel suite, I’d gone straight to the room Zoey’s staying in and started composing. I don’t know how long it was before I fell asleep, but being woken up by a jealous Zoey is a wonderful thing. It shows me the feelings she has for me are just as strong as the ones I have for her.
“I’m sorry you thought I might be in here with another woman. I can assure you it’ll never happen. I’ve managed to avoid batting eyelashes and pushed up breasts all night while hoping for a few glimpses of you as you worked.”
I watch Zoey from my position on the bed as she kicks off her shoes and climbs up next to me. I move the papers strewn around me out of the way, and wrapping my arm around her, I pull her to me, allowing her to snuggle in close. I sniff the top of her head and the strawberry scented shampoo she uses.
“I’m sorry I thought you might have brought a woman in here. Bad memories from the bus, I guess.”
“I hope they aren’t all bad.” I raise my head a little to look down at her covered pussy.
“No, that particular memory is going to remain with me forever.”
“Good.”
Zoey goes quiet.
“Am I the reason you aren’t partying with the other guys? You should be with them, you know. I don’t want to come between you all.”
“I’ve never really been a party animal like the others. More often than not after a concert, I’m exhausted and fall sleep, but inspiration hit me tonight, and I wanted to write. I might party with them tomorrow—it all depends on how I feel. Please don’t worry.”
“Phew.” She breathes a sigh of relief and playfully wipes her brow. “Is that what all this paper is for? New songs.”
“Yes, when I get an idea, I can spend hours just writing down words. The guys normally help me with the music, but the lyrics are all mine. It’s always been our way of writing. I’ve got a poetic nature, apparently. I tend to think of it more as a mind that won’t shut up until I’ve spread verbal diarrhea all over the paper.”
“Not the greatest vision you’re describing.”
“You know what I mean.”
Zoey reaches out across the bed for one of the pieces of paper but stops just short of it.
“Sorry, I should ask first whether it’s okay to look at it.” She wriggles from my arms and sits up on the bed with her feet tucked under her, looking at me.
“Do you plan on stealing the song and releasing it as your own?”
She laughs. “Yeah, I don’t think it’ll be a hit even if the words are amazing. I’m the world’s worst singer.”
“I’m sure you aren’t.”
Zoey gives me a short blast of our most recent release. It’s awful—she sounds completely tone-deaf.
I put my hand over her mouth.
“Okay, I’ll be the singer in this relationship. You stick to being the babysitter and the publicist.”
Removing my hand, she sticks her tongue out at me.
“I did warn you.”
“I know.”
Reaching over for the piece of paper with the finished song I composed tonight written on it, I hand it to her. She starts to read it aloud.
Time keeps moving,
But you aren’t here,
Alone in a grave,
No more living,
No more dead,
Just gone,
Forever.
Nighttime falls on the endless mourning,
I don’t know if I can do this,
Pretend anymore all is okay,
I need your wisdom,
I need your light to guide me,
For I’m drowning in my grief,
Time keeps moving,
But you aren’t here,
Alone in a grave,
No more living,
No more dead,
Just gone,
Forever.
I remember that fateful day so vividly,
The silence when I called out loud,
The color of your skin as you slept,
Eternally broken by the pain of nothing,
Why couldn’t you fight harder,
Was I not worth surviving for?
Time keeps moving,
But you aren’t here,
Alone in a grave,
No more living,
No more dead,
Just gone,
Forever.
So many years have passed,
A lifetime for many but for you nothing,
Why did you have to go?
Why did you have to leave so soon?
A part of us all is missing, decaying in the ground,
Alone, that’s how I feel because you’re gone.
Time keeps moving,
But you aren’t here,
Alone in a grave,
No more living,
No more dead,
Just gone,
Forever.
Just gone,
Forever.
Halfway through Zoey’s reading, I have to move from the bed. My gut is twisted up tight, listening to the words. Even now, the memories of finding my sister dead are far too raw in my mind. I can still smell the odor of death in her bedroom, clogging up my nostrils and bringing bile to my throat. Needing to get fresh air in my lungs, I push open the door to the terrace.
I can hear Zoey reading aloud the last two lines.
Just gone,
Forever.
The words echo in my head like a bad nightmare. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sing this song. I might as well throw it in the trash right now.
“Who was she?” Zoey appears at my side and wraps her arms around my waist. “You obviously loved her a great deal.”
“I did,” I manage to whisper softly. “She was my everything. The person I looked up to for inspiration…my sister.”
“I’m sorry.” Zoey rests her head against my chest.
“She died when I was fifteen. She was really young herself. She would be turning thirty next week.”
“Too young. The song is beautiful, haunting. I hope you’ll put music to it and sing it for her. I’d love to hear how your mind hears the words sounding.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to sing it, but maybe I’ll try, one day.”
“You wrote the words, Tate. It’s part of the healing process. Don’t waste them. You should sing it for your sister. Sing it loud and proud for the person she was to you.”
I pull Zoey’s head back
from my chest and look into her eyes.
“So wise for someone so young.”
“I grew up far too quickly. I don’t think I was ever a child.”
At the same time, we both turn our heads and look out into the night sky of London. Traffic still flows beneath us in a city that never really sleeps.
“What do you want this to be between us?” I ask and look back to Zoey. Her eyes are now focused on mine as well.
“I want it to be everything. I’m terrified of what that means, but all I know is, here and now, I can’t be without you. My heart is beating because I’m near you. I’m living for the first time ever. I’m learning. I’m growing as a person, but I’m terrified I might wake up soon to discover it’s all been a dream because good things don’t happen to people like me.”
I crush my lips to hers, bruising them with a punishing kiss that I want her to feel forever. When I pull back from her, she looks shocked.
“See, it’s not a dream. It’s real. It’s moving quickly, and it’s scaring the shit out of me as well—but it is happening, and from this point forward if anyone asks, I’ll tell them you’re mine.”
She nods.
“What happens now?” Zoey asks, and her eyes flit toward the door and the bedroom.
“First we shower. I stink after the concert, and then I’m going to make love to you, and I’m going to savor ever second of it.
Chapter 17
Zoey
#IDidntKnowMyBodyCouldBendThatWay
While I wait to get in the shower, I’ve wrapped a towel around myself. I watch the water as it cascades down over Tate’s naked body. He’s like a god standing there, washing himself. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as Tate Gordon in a shower.
“You know you can come in with me. I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”
He winks at me, and I reluctantly drop the towel onto the floor and make my way into the large walk-in shower.
“Fuck me, you’re beautiful,” Tate exclaims, and I watch as his dick starts to harden. “I might have made a mistake having you naked in the shower with me. I really do want to make love to you, but at the moment, all I can think about is lifting you up against the shower wall and fucking you until we’re both spent.”
“You can do that if you want.” I flush at the thought, my body heating with desire.
“No, our first time together is going to be special. Just wash quickly, so I can get you into bed.”
Tate moves to the side so I can step under the flow of water and wash. He watches my every move, and I begin to feel a little self-conscious, especially when I go to wash between my thighs.
“Stop,” Tate orders, and I freeze with my hand hovering over my pussy, not daring to move with the authority in his voice.
“What’s wrong?” I question, worried I’ve done something to upset him.
“Make yourself come.”
“What?” My cheeks heat with embarrassment. I’m really not experienced with sex, and I feel self-conscious.
Tate moves back under the water with me.
“Don’t be embarrassed. What I’m asking is perfectly natural. I want to please you and make your body hum with ecstasy. The only way I can do that is to learn how you like to be touched, and the best way of learning is to watch you. Make yourself come, Zoey. Show me how you like it.”
“I can’t.” I know I’m being really silly. It’s stupid. I’m a grown woman, and Tate is all man, but I’m suddenly feeling really shy.
Tate takes the bar of soap from my hands and places it on a rack in the shower.
“Shut your eyes, Zoey.” He moves behind me and whispers in my ear. I can feel his erection digging into the small of my back with the height difference between us. “Trust me.”
I do.
I shut my eyes and listen to the fall of the water on our bodies. Tate takes my hand and moves it between my thighs. He uses my fingers to part my folds and slides my hand down the length of my slit. I move with him as I use my fingers on myself. We move like this for what seems like an eternity, the heat building within me but not reaching its peak. I can’t seem to get the right friction over my clit. Moving my other hand between my thighs, I place a finger at my entrance and push it inside me.
“That’s it, take what you need.” Tate breathes heavily into my ear.
He lets go of my hand and brings his own up to tease and play with the sensitive skin of my breasts. I lean back against him for support as I increase the pace of the circular movements on my clit. I slip a second finger inside, losing myself in the eroticism of the moment. Tate continues to play with my breasts as I finally bring myself to orgasm. My legs shake, and my body quivers as it rests against him for support. When my high recedes, I withdraw my fingers and turn in Tate’s arms to face him. His eyes are as dark as the night as he fights his need for release.
“That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispers, looking over my shoulder.
When I turn my head to identify what he’s looking at, I see us naked together, reflected in a mirror. It’s partly steamed up by the heat of the shower, but I can clearly make out our faces. Tate must have been able to watch my expression at the moment I came apart.
“You’ve seen me at my most intimate. I think it’s about time I saw you with your walls broken down.” Reaching down between us I stroke his dick, which is now hard and angry looking with an urgent need to bury itself in me.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Tate turns the water off, and stepping out of the shower, he retrieves two towels. He wraps one around himself, and as I get out of the shower, he covers me with the other, rubbing my shoulders with it to dry me.
“Bedroom, Miss Danson. I’ve got one or two more tricks to show you tonight.”
As we leave the bathroom, I can hear the rest of the penthouse is now quiet except for the delighted squeals from the twins that Cameron is entertaining. I screw my face up, and Tate laughs at me.
“Let’s go and make more noise than them.”
He winks at me, and leading me into the bedroom area, he removes the towel wrapped around me. The room is warm, but even if it wasn’t, my body is already overly heated. Tate helps me lay on the bed, then dropping his towel, he slides over me. Another layer of heat now covers my body, scalding in its desire. I feel like I’m in a furnace.
Our mouths meet instantly, and we taste and savor each other. Tate is a mix of spiciness and woody scents. I grow lost in his flavor, especially when he presses his tongue into my mouth and tangles it with mine. He’s awoken in me a sexual minx who’ll only dance for him. His hands explore my body, caressing my breasts, and flicking at the tips of my nipples until they’re hard peaks. He then pulls away from my mouth, and wrapping his tongue around a nipple, he causes me to arch off the bed as a surge of heat burns straight to my pussy.
“Fuck,” I exclaim, my head spinning with all the feelings cascading through my body.
“So hot.” Tate reaches between my thighs to stroke at my clit.
I know he wants to prepare me for his dick, but I don’t need it. I’m soaked to the core with my desire. I’m ready, willing, and able to take him all in one long, hard thrust.
Sexual minx alert.
What the hell has been awoken in me?
“Do you have a condom?” The health and safety exponent within me comes to the forefront for a moment.
Tate slides from the bed and retrieves his wallet from the jeans he was wearing on stage tonight. He fishes out a condom, and while he’s walking back to the bed, he sheathes his dick with the rubber protection.
“This will be the only time we use them. Tomorrow, when we’re both not consumed by passion, we’ll have a serious talk about protection because I want to be bare inside you. I want to feel my cum washing your insides. Understand, Zoey?”
“I’m on the pill for bad periods,” I blurt out, the thought of feeling his cum inside me is an exciting prospect.
Tate puts his finger over my li
ps. “Not tonight. I’ll prove to you I’m clean first, but I’m too far gone at the moment to go find the papers. I need to be inside you.”
“I’m all yours.” I part my legs wide to allow Tate access to all of me. “Take me, make love to me.”
Any embarrassment or bashfulness from earlier is gone. All I can think about is Tate Gordon pushing inside me.
“You don’t need to ask me twice, beautiful.”
Tate covers me with his warm body again, and I feel the head of his dick nudge at my opening. “I’ll take it slowly.”
He’s big, and it’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone, so I know it’s going to be uncomfortable at first.
“Please,” I respond, nervously.
I lean up and bring my lips against his. As we kiss each other again, Tate pushes inside me. It burns but not in a painful way, more in a full way. I’ve never felt anything like it before. The guy I lost my virginity to was an okay lover, but he wasn’t a big man. Tate has so much more to offer me than him, and he isn’t even balls deep yet.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, I feel Tate’s body connect with mine. He pauses and allows me a moment to adjust to his intrusion. The discomfort mixes with my desire and forms an overwhelming urge. I need him to take me, to make love to me, to fuck me…do anything to me. I just need him to move, and now. My hips buck to show him I’m ready, and he withdraws out to the tip of his cock before slamming back in. I scream with pleasure, and as he repeats the same process, I look down between us and see his hard length disappearing inside me once again.
“Beautiful isn’t it. You and me together. I could stay like this forever.”
“You might get a few funny looks when you go out on stage.” I can’t help but chuckle at the thought.
“I don’t know. It might increase attendance in some quarters.”
“Yuck.”
“Rock star life, baby. Get used to it.”
“As long as you come to my bed every night, I’m more than happy with the rock star life.”