CHAPTER FIFTEEN
David’s knee jiggled all the way back to LA. When I put my hand on his leg he took to toying with my wedding ring instead, turning it around on my finger. Seemed we were both fidgeters, given the right circumstances.
I’d never been in a helicopter before. The view was spectacular, but it was loud and uncomfortable—I could see why people preferred planes. A chain of lights, from street lights to houses to the blazing high rise towers in LA, lit the way. Everything about the situation had changed but I was the same bundle of nervous energy in need of sleep that I had been leaving Portland, not so many days back. Mal had thrown himself into the corner, closed his eyes, and gone to sleep. Nothing fazed him. Of course, there was no reason this should. He was part of the band, welded into David’s life.
We landed a little after four in the morning, caught up by delays on departure. Bodyguard Sam stood waiting at the helicopter pad with a business face on.
“Mrs Ferris. Gentlemen.” He ushered us into a big black SUV waiting nearby.
“Straight back home, thanks, Sam,” David said. His home, not mine. LA had no happy memories for me.
Then we were ensconced in luxury, locked away behind dark windows. I sank back against the soft seating, closing my eyes. It kind of amazed me I could be so damn tired and worried all at once.
Back at the mansion, Martha waited, leaning against the front door, wrapped up in some expensive-looking red shawl. His PA gave me all the bad feelings. But I was determined to fit in this time. David and I were together. Screw her, she’d have to adapt. Her dark hair shone, flowing over her shoulders, not a strand out of place. No doubt I looked like someone who’d been awake for over twenty hours.
Sam opened the SUV door and offered me a hand. I could feel Martha’s eyes zero in on the way David slung an arm around me, keeping me close. Her face hardened to stone. The look she gave me was poison. Whatever her issues, I was too damn tired to deal with them.
“Martie,” Mal crowed, running up the steps to slip an arm around her waist. “Help me find breakfast, oh gorgeous one.”
“You know where the kitchen is, Mal.”
The curt dismissal didn’t stop Mal from sweeping her off with him. Martha’s first few steps faltered but then she strutted once more, ever on show. Mal had cleared the way. I could have kissed his feet.
David said nothing as we made our way up the stairs to the second floor, our footsteps echoing in the quiet. When I went to turn toward the white room, the one I’d stayed in last time, he steered me right instead. At a set of double doors we stopped and he fished a key out of his pocket. I gave him a curious look.
“So I have trust issues.” He unlocked the door.
Inside, the room was simple, lacking the antiques and flashy décor of the rest of the house. A huge bed made up with dark gray linens. A comfortable sofa to match. Lots of guitars. An open wardrobe, full of clothes. Mostly, there was empty space. Room for him to breathe, I think. This room felt different to the rest of the house, less showy, calmer.
“It’s okay, you can look around.” His hand slid down to the base of my spine, resting just above the curve of my ass. “It’s our room now,” he said.
God, I hoped he didn’t want to live here permanently. I mean, I did have school to go back to eventually. We hadn’t exactly gotten around to discussing where we’d live. But the thought of Martha, Jimmy and Adrian being around all the time sent me into a panic. Shit. I couldn’t afford to think like that. Negativity would swallow me whole. What was important was being with David. Sticking together and making it work.
How horrible, being forced to live in the lap of luxury with my wonderful husband. Poor me. I needed a good slap and a cup of coffee. Or twelve hours’ sleep. Either would work wonders.
He drew the curtains, blocking out the dawn’s early light. “You look beat. Come lie down with me?”
“That’s, umm … yeah, good idea. I’ll just use the bathroom.”
“Okay.” David started stripping, dumping his leather jacket on the lounge chair, pulling off his T-shirt. The normal hoorah of my hormones was sorely missing in action. Drowned out by the nerves. I fled into the bathroom, needing a minute to pull myself together. I closed the door and switched on the lights. The room blazed to life, blinding me. Spots flickered before my eyes. I stabbed switches at random until finally it dimmed to a soft glow. Much better.
A giant white tub that looked like a bowl, gray stone walls and clear glass partitions. Simply put, it was opulent. One day I’d probably become inured to all this, but I hoped not. Taking it for granted would be terrible.
A shower would soothe me. Sitting in the giant soup bowl would have been nice. But I didn’t totally trust myself to get into it without falling on my butt and breaking something. Not in the overtired, wound-up state I was in.
No, a long, hot shower would be perfect.
I stepped out of my flats and undid the zip on my jeans, getting undressed in record time. The shower could have fit me and ten close friends. Steaming hot water poured out from overhead and I stepped into it, grateful. It pounded down in the best way possible, making my muscles more pliable in minutes, relaxing me. I loved this shower. This shower and I needed to spend quality time together, often. Apart from David, and occasionally Mal, this shower was the best damn thing in the whole house.
David’s arms slipped around me from behind, drawing me back against him. I hadn’t even heard him come in.
“Hi.” I leaned back against him, lifting my arms to thread them around his neck. “I think I’m in love with your shower.”
“You’re cheating on me with the shower? Damn, Evelyn. That’s harsh.” He picked up a bar of soap and started washing me, rubbing it over my belly, my breasts, softly between my legs. Once the soap suds had reached critical mass he helped the warm water chase the bubbles away. His big hands slid over my skin, bringing it to life and returning my hormones to me tenfold. One strong arm wrapped around my waist. The fingers of his other hand, however, lingered atop my sex, stroking lightly.
“I know you’re worried about being here. But you don’t need to be. Everything’ll be fine.” His lips brushed against my ear as the magic he was working on me grew. I could feel myself turning liquid hot like the water. My thighs trembled. I widened my stance, giving him more room.
“I—I know.”
“It’s you and me against the world.”
I couldn’t have kept the smile off my face if I tried.
“My lovely wife. Let’s go this way.” With careful steps he turned us, so that his back was to the water. I braced my hands on the glass wall. The tip of his finger teased between the lips of my sex, coaxing me open. God, he was good at this. “Your p-ssy is the sweetest f*cking thing I’ve ever seen.”
My insides fluttered with delight. “Whatever I did to deserve you, I need to do it much more often.”
He chuckled, his mouth fixing to the side of my neck and sucking, making me groan. I swear the room spun. Or that might have been my blood rushing about. For certain, my hips bucked of their own volition. But he didn’t let me go far. The hard length of him pressed against my butt and my lower back. My sex clenched unhappily, aching for more.
“David.”
“Hmm?”
I tried to turn but his splayed hand against my middle stopped me. “Let me.”
“Let you what? What do you want, baby? Tell me and it’s yours.”
“I just want you.”
“You’ve got me. I’m all over you. Feel.” He pressed himself hard against me, holding me tight.
“But—”
“Now, let’s see what happens when I strum your *.”
Feather light strokes worked me higher and higher, all centered around that one magic spot. No great surprise he could play me to perfection. He’d already proven it several times over. And the way he rubbed himself against me drove me out of my mind. My body knew exactly what it wanted and it wasn’t his damn clever fingers. I wanted to feel that connection with him again.
“Wait,” I said, my voice high and needy.
“What, baby?”
“I want you inside of me.”
He eased a finger into me, massaging an area behind my * that made me see stars. Still, it was wrong, wildly insufficient. Not a bit funny. It would be a tragedy to have to kill him but he was really pushing it.
“David. Please.”
“No good?”
“I want you.”
“And I want you. I’m crazy about you.”
“But—”
“How about I get you off with a shower head? Wouldn’t that be nice?”
I actually stamped my foot, despite my wobbling knees. “No.”
At which point my husband cracked up laughing and I hated him.
“I thought you were in love with the shower,” he tittered away, highly amused with himself and all but begging for death.
Tears of frustration actually welled in my eyes. “No.”
“You sure? I’m pretty certain I remember hearing you say it.”
“David, for f*ck’s sake, I’m in love with you.”
He stilled completely. Even the finger embedded within me stopped moving. There was only the sound of the water falling. You’d think those words would have lost their power. Weren’t we already married? Hadn’t we decided to stay married? Invoking the L-word should have lost its mystical punch, given our crazy situation. But it hadn’t.
Everything changed.
Strong hands turned me and lifted me, leaving my feet dangling precariously in the air. It took me a second to figure out where I was and what had happened. I wrapped my legs and arms around him for safe-keeping, holding on tight. His face … I’d never seen such a fierce, determined expression. It went well beyond lust and closer toward being what I needed from him.
His hands gripped my rear, taking my weight and holding me to him. Slowly, steadily, he lowered me on to him. There was none of the pain this time to rob me of pleasure. Nothing to distract me from the feel of him filling me. It was such a strange, wonderful sensation, having him inside of me. I squirmed, trying to get more comfortable. Instantly, his fingers dug into my butt cheeks.
“F*ck,” he groaned.
“What?”
“Just, just stay still for a minute.”
I scrunched up my nose, concentrated on catching my breath. This sex stuff was tricky. Also, I wanted to memorize every moment of this perfect experience. I didn’t want to forget a thing.
He balanced my back against the shower wall and pushed more fully into me. A startled sound burst out of my mouth. Most closely it resembled “argh”.
“Easy,” he murmured. “You okay?”
I felt really full. Stretched. And it might have felt good. It was hard to tell. I needed him to do something so I could figure out where this new sensation was taking me. “Are you going to move now?”
“If you’re okay now.”
“I’m okay.”
He did move then, watching my face all the while. The slide out lit me up inside in a lovely rush, but the thrust back in got my immediate attention. Whoa. Good or bad, I still couldn’t quite tell. I needed more. He gave it to me, his pelvis shifting against me, keeping the warmth and tension building. My blood felt fever hot, surging through me, burning beneath my skin. I fit my mouth to his, wanting more. Wanting it all. The wet of his mouth and the skill of his tongue. All of him. No one kissed like David. As though kissing me beat breathing, eating, sleeping or anything else he might have otherwise planned to do with the rest of his life.
My back bumped hard against the glass wall and our teeth clinked together. He broke the kiss with a wary look, but he never stopped moving. Harder, faster, he rocked into me. It just got better and better. We needed to do this all the time. Constantly. Nothing else mattered when it was like this between us. Every worry disappeared.
It was so damn good. He was all that I needed.
Then he hit upon some spot inside of me and my whole body seized up, nerves tingling and running riot. My muscles squeezed him tight and he thrust in deep several times in rapid succession. The world blacked out or I closed my eyes. The pressure inside me shattered into a million amazing pieces. It went on and on. My mind left the stratosphere, I was sure of it. Everything sparkled. If it felt anything like that for David, I don’t know how he stayed on his feet. But he did. He stood strong and whole with me clutched tight against him like he’d never let me go.
Eventually, about a decade later, he did set me down. His hands hovered by my waist, just in case. Once my limbs proved trustworthy, he turned me to face the water. With a gentle hand, he cleaned me between my legs. I didn’t get what he was up to at first and tried to back away. Touching anything there right then didn’t seen a smart idea.
“It’s okay,” he said, drawing me back into the spray of water. “Trust me.”
I stood still, flinching out of instinct. He took nothing but care. The whole world seemed weird, everything too close and yet buffered at the same time. Weariness and the best orgasm of my life had undone me.
Next he reached over and turned off the water, stepped out and grabbed two towels. One he tied around his waist, the other he patted me dry with.
“That was good, right?” I asked as he dried off my hair, tending to me. My body still shook and quivered. It seemed like a good sign. My world had been torn apart and remade into some sparkly surreal love-fest thing. If he said it was only okay I might hit him.
“That was f*cking incredible,” he corrected, pulling off his towel and throwing it onto the bathroom counter.
Even my grin quivered. I saw it in the mirror. “Yes. It was.”
“Us together, always is.”
Hand in hand we walked back into the bedroom. Being naked in front of him didn’t feel weird for once. There was no hesitation. He discarded his towel and we climbed onto his giant-sized bed, gravitating naturally toward the middle and each other. We both lay on our sides, face to face. I could slip into a coma, I was so worn out. Such a pity to have to close my eyes when he lay right there in front of me. My husband.
“You swore at me,” he said, eyes amused.
“Did I?”
His hand sat atop of my thigh, his thumb sliding back and forth over my hip bone. “Gonna pretend you don’t remember what you said? Really?”
“No. I remember.” Though I hadn’t meant to say it, neither the cuss word nor the declaration of love. But I had. Big girl panties time. “I said I was in love with you.”
“Mm. People say stuff during sex. It happens.”
He was giving me an out but I couldn’t take it. I wouldn’t take it, no matter how tempting. I wasn’t about to diminish the moment like that.
“I am in love with you.” I said, feeling awkward. The same as when I’d said I trusted him, he was going to leave me hanging here too. I knew it.
His gaze lingered on my face, patient and kind. It hurt. Something inside me felt brittle and he brought it straight to the fore. Love made spelunking look sensible. BASE jumping and wrestling bears couldn’t be far behind. But it was much, much too late to worry. The words were already out there. If love was for fools then so be it. At least I’d be an honest one.
He stroked my face with the back of his fingers. “That was a beautiful thing to say.”
“David, it’s okay—”
“You’re so f*cking important to me,” he said, stopping me short. “I want you to know that.”
“Thank you.” Ouch, not exactly the words I wanted to hear after I admitted I loved him.
Rising up on one elbow, he brought his lips to mine, kissing me silly. Stroking my tongue with his and taking me over. It left no room for worry.
“I need you again,” he whispered, kneeling between my legs.
This time we did make love. There was no other word for it. He rocked into me at his own pace, pressing his cheek against mine, scratching me with his stubble. His voice went on and on, whispering secrets in my ear. How no one had ever been this right for him. How he wanted to stay just like this as long as could. Sweat dripped off his body, running over my skin before soaking into the bed sheet. He made himself a permanent part of me. It was bliss. Sweet, tender, and slow. Maddeningly slow near the end.
It felt like it went on for forever. I wish it had.