The Fall Up

She pinched my nipple. “That’s not what I meant. And now, I’m disappointed to find out you’re not kinky.”


I pinched her nipple back, letting my fingers linger as I grazed my teeth over her neck. “You didn’t seem disappointed last night.”

She gasped and swayed into my touch.

“And, before you smart off, I promise you won’t be disappointed tonight, either. I’ll buy my ticket. You entertain thousands. We sandblast you back to life. Then I’ll fuck you whatever kinky way you want until you are physically unable to forget me for the next month.”

“Yesss,” she hissed, sliding her hands over my ass.

I nipped at her earlobe as my cock swelled between us. I’d have given anything to skip to the end of that scenario—even past the losing-myself-inside-her-later-that-night part. I wanted to be at the very end—when she came home.

Healthier.

Happier.

And all fucking mine.

I was about to take her mouth in a needy kiss when Madison knocked on the door.

“Everyone dressed?” she asked, cracking the door open but not coming in.

Levee groaned and leaned her forehead on my shoulder. “Unfortunately. But give us a minute.”

“Sorry. I need to finish you up. They’re calling for you back in wardrobe.”

“Right,” Levee said, stepping away. Glancing down to my cock bulging in my jeans, she whispered, “What a waste of a perfectly good hard-on.”

I laughed, adjusting myself. “Later. I promise.” I pressed a chaste kiss to her lips then closed my eyes and started alphabetically listing types of wood.




Watching Levee perform was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. Sure, she put on one hell of a show, complete with dancers, wardrobe changes, and pyrotechnics, but even without the fanfare, she was mesmerizing. The way she commanded that stage, owning every note that escaped her sexy mouth, was cock hardening. I couldn’t have dragged my eyes away even if I hadn’t been utterly falling for her.

I’d heard Levee’s music on the radio. I recognized the beats and the melody. But, after having gotten to know the woman who’d written them, I realized that the words were the most beautiful of all. Through her songs, it was clear Levee had been struggling for a while, but the most staggering part was how much hope and fight were woven into her lyrics as well. And, because of that fight, I found hope as well.

She’s going to be okay.

And so would we.

I still didn’t know why Levee had been on that bridge night after night. I’d gathered that her life was stressful, but when I saw the way she came alive the moment she stepped on stage with a mic in her hand, I couldn’t imagine her wanting to escape it all. I was well aware that life wasn’t always what it seemed to an outsider. Something else had to be going on with her, and as her eyes continuously found mine in the front row, I had a sudden and burning desire to figure out exactly what that was.

As the concert drew to an end, Devon retrieved me from my seat and escorted me to Levee’s dressing room. As usual, he was pissed the fuck off about something, but I was starting to believe that that was just his natural disposition rather than it having anything to do with me. The sound of Levee’s encore was blaring into the room as I relaxed on the small couch and propped my feet up. Closing my eyes, I breathed in deeply and began replaying the last twenty-four hours in my mind. Before I realized it, my cheeks were aching from the huge smile that covered my face.

I was so fucking happy.

And, if the twitch of my cock was any indication, I was horny too. The memories of Levee strutting across the stage had spurred that.

When the last beat of the drum finally fell silent, I began to stare holes in the door. The concert had been surreal, and I was desperate to get my hands on Levee and remind myself just how real we really were.

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