And if she’s not?
My dad’s wrong. I’m not a pussy. I’m a fighter.
If she walks away now, there’s no battle I wouldn’t wage to get her back.
Twenty
Layla
This song is for me. I’m sure of it.
Those may be someone else’s lyrics, but belted from Blake’s mouth, they’re his.
Even seated, my legs feel weak. My chest tightens with the warmth of his words. I’ve never heard anything so beautiful in my life.
His big hands dance along the keys with a grace that contrasts with his size. His eyes are closed, and I watch unashamed as the words flow from his lips and settle in my heart. And if that isn’t enough, his singing voice is breathtaking. Not angelic and benign, but dark with a hint of rasp that rubs against every nerve in an arousing caress.
Arched forward, he sways along with the music, as if his body’s one with the piano. My stomach flips, and I swallow hard. He makes the piano’s elegance seem sexy and insanely masculine.
The song slows to the final few bridges. The final note sounds, and he drops his hands to his lap, allowing the closing note to reverberate off the walls.
I sit in the silence, mourning the loss.
Studying his profile, I watch him stare at his lap. His strong square jaw flexes before he takes a deep breath and tilts his face to mine. He shrugs a shoulder and doesn’t look me in the eye.
My heart cramps. “Blake, that was breathtaking. I mean… wow, you can sing. Like, really sing.”
His shy smile is something I’ve never seen, and it’s even better than his cocky one. Or at least a strong second. “Yeah, not really.”
“Yes, absolutely really. I’m… speechless.” I lick my lips, suddenly nervous to ask the question that’s been picking at my brain. “What song was that?”
“‘Fall for You’ by Secondhand Serenade.” He runs his fingers along the keys. “It’s no ‘For Whom the Bell Tolls.’” An uncomfortable laugh escapes his lips.
“I like the song you played better.”
He finally meets my eyes, the smile wiped clean from his face. “You do?”
“A lot, actually.”
Something fierce and possessive flares in his eyes. He reaches over and turns me to him, throwing his leg over the piano bench so that we’re both straddling it facing each other. Hooking his hands beneath my knees, he tugs me close, laying my thighs over his own. “I meant it. The song. I sang it for you, and I meant it.” His eyes search mine, like he’s hunting for something in my expression. “I’m falling for you, Mouse.”
I cup his face and bring his lips to mine. Like the lyrics said, talk is cheap, so rather than waste my pathetic words, I’ll show him.
I’ve already fallen.
Our lips touch in a soft kiss, a meeting between two souls, both broken but not irreparable. His hands glide into my hair, and he holds me close with a tender passion that sends a rush of tingles over my skin. We tug at each other’s lips, taking our time to taste with unhurried swipes of our tongues.
“Snake,” I whisper against his mouth.
Keeping his hands locked in my hair and resting his forehead against mine, he breathes against my lips. “Yeah, Mouse.”
“Does this mean that we’re together? Like, exclusive?”
He pulls back, and his serious expression makes me suck in a breath.
“I don’t know how to do that. The boyfriend thing.”
“Oh…” I hold my quivering lip between my teeth at his brush off. Why is everything so confusing?
He hooks his fingers beneath my chin and brings my eyes back to his. “But if you think I just sang for a chick I’m not super serious about, you’re smokin’ crack.” A cocky smile pulls at his lips. “Not sure about the labels. I just want you. No one else. And if you want to see other dudes, it’ll end badly for those guys. But, your call.”
I pretend to consider his offer, even scrunching up my face and tapping my finger against my chin. “How badly?”
“Broken bones, screaming, lots of blood.” He shrugs and tries to force a serious expression through his grin.
“Hmm.” I lift my eyebrows. “It sounds like you’re asking me to go steady, Snake.”
“Call it whatever you want, sweetheart.” He runs his thumb along my lower lip, his face suddenly serious. “Just promise me you’ll give us a chance,” he whispers.
“That, I can do.”
His lips cover mine. He cups my bottom, tugging me close and eliminating the space between us. I fold my legs around his waist, holding his head while tilting my own. He groans down my throat, and my hips flex in response. I never knew it was possible to be so consumed by another person. As if every inch of him isn’t enough to sate my need for more.
“Mouse,” he growls against my lips and kisses down the front of my throat. His fingers slide up the back of my shirt and around to my bare breast. “Fuck.”
I drop my head to the side. He toys with my nipple and uses his mouth to torture the sensitive skin below my ear, unfurling my arousal.
Tightening my legs around his waist, I grind down, hoping he can feel how ready I am through his jeans.
“Ow, shit.” He breaks the kiss and looks down between us. “What is that?”
Huh? My mind is scrambled. He pulls against the elastic of my shorts, and the jingle of my car keys zaps me back. “Oh, my keys. Sorry.”
He tilts his head. “You keep them in your pants?”
I shrug. “These shorts don’t have pockets, so yeah.”
“You got anything else in there?” His voice is laced with desire.
“Depends. What’re you looking for?”
“I think you know what I’m looking for.”
I shiver. Yeah, I do.
He runs his fingers along my collarbone. “How much time to we have? Don’t want to start anything I can’t finish.”
The way he says that makes me think he’d feast on me all night if he could. The thought stirs my blood and tickles my nerves. He can.
“I’ve got all night.”
Blake
Best words I’ve ever heard.
But I’m venturing into new territory, exposing my secret and giving her a part of me that no else has seen. I don’t know where to go from here.
Confessing my feelings through that song was a risk. But that’s what she does to me. She strips me down, peels back the layers, and leaves me completely dependent. Weakened for that breath of time where I wait for her to let me know she feels the same.
And she does.
My heart races, and I feel a heat behind my ribs, a sensation that I now associate with her presence. The woman in my arms means more to me that I thought possible. And I have her all night. My pants get tight as my mind flips through the evening’s possibilities. Holding her, touching her, showing her all the ways I can make her moan. But we have time, and first, I want to give my woman what she came to me for.
Sliding my hands under her ass, I scoop her up off the piano bench. Her legs clench around my waist like we’ve done this a million times before. Effortless.
She locks her hands behind my neck. “Where are we going?”
“You came here to watch TV. My woman gets what she wants.” Walking out of the music room and down the hall, I freeze halfway to the living room.
I didn’t shut and lock the door.
“Everything okay?” she says.
My insides jump with unease. Leaving that door open feels like I’m letting down my guard. Giving my back to an advancing enemy.