“Will…”
“Shh, it’s okay.”
He spreads my legs and sits there, just looking down at my center, and I suddenly become very shy.
“Turn the light off,” I whisper.
His eyes find mine. His face is tight with lust, his eyes bright, and his jaw ticking from clenching his jaw shut.
“Not a chance,” he growls. “I want to see you. Fuck, Meg, you’re so sexy.”
He settles on his elbows and gently brushes my piercing with his fingertip. It makes my back arch and catch my breath.
“Shit.”
“How long have you had this?” he asks.
“Five years.”
“Why?” he asks and brushes it with his thumb while his fingers slide through my wet lips and I gasp again. “God, you’re so wet.”
“I was in a band, people had piercings, I didn’t want mine to show.” The words come out super-fast because of what he’s doing to me and he chuckles.
“Does it heighten pleasure?” he asks and I swear again as he barely brushes the little bar-bell and it sets my clit on fire.
“What do you think?” Fuck, I can’t stop moving.
“It’s tiny,” he remarks.
“It’s a tiny part of my body,” I remind him ruefully and then squirm again as he brushes it one more time with his finger.
Will kisses my navel, and I push my hands into his hair. He moves down and gently wraps those amazing lips around my clit and metal and I come undone, pushing against his mouth, raising my hips up off the cushion. His hands are cupping my ass, holding me against him and I ride my orgasm, jerking and shuddering, and suddenly his lips move farther down and his tongue is inside me, then licking my labia, and inside me again. It’s a full-on assault Will-style, and it’s the most amazing fucking thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.
He sinks his tongue inside me again and pulls one hand around to worry my clit some more and I feel another orgasm building.
“Ah, hell, babe, I’m gonna…”
He growls against me and I lose it, this orgasm completely eclipsing the last one, if that’s even possible.
When I surface, Will is nibbling his way back up my body, caressing my skin gently, and then he’s kissing me softly and his fingers are running gently down my face.
“So sweet,” he murmurs against my lips.
I can taste myself on him. I reach for the hem of his shirt again and push my hand under it so I can caress his back, his ribs. He sighs deeply and rests his forehead on mine, eyes closed.
“Your hands feel good,” he whispers.
“So do yours. Take your clothes off.”
He sighs again, kisses my forehead and sits back on his heels.
“I don’t think so.” He shakes his head and then chuckles ruefully while scrubbing his hands over his face. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think I’d better go.”
What??
He must see the alarm on my face because he chuckles again and kisses me swiftly.
“I’m picking you up for date number two tomorrow at noon.” His eyes take one more leisurely stroll down my naked body and he curses under his breath.
“Okay,” I respond, a bit unsure, and sit up, tug my dress over my head and stand as he also rises from the floor.
“You are incredible.” He cups my face in his hands and leans down to kiss me softly.
I lead him to the front door, punch the code into the alarm system to disarm it and open the door for him.
“Noon tomorrow,” he reminds me, as if I could ever forget.
“It’s a date.” I smile shyly at him.
“Set this alarm when I leave.” He glares down at me, daring me to defy him and I giggle.
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter Seven
“How many times have you been here?” Will asks me as we stand in line waiting to purchase tickets for Seattle’s Experience Music Project Museum. It’s a music museum, and so much more.
I love this place.
“Dozens,” I smile up at him, geez he’s tall and squeeze his hand. “It changes all the time, with new exhibits and stuff. Plus, I could just sit and stare at the guitars for days. Have you ever been?”
“No, I’ve just never taken the time.” He winks down at me. “I’m a rookie.”
“That’s okay, I’ll protect you.”
He smirks and pays for our tickets, and I lead him into the museum.
We wander up to the second floor where the exhibits are and I get lost in Jimi Hendrix, Nirvana, The Stones, the guitar gallery. I point out interesting tid bits of information for Will and drag him from room to room.
I love sharing this with him, and I love how interested he seems. He’s not just tagging along, trying to make me happy.
Best. Date. Ever.
We head up to the third floor and stand and stare at the enormous guitar sculpture. It’s at least fifty feet tall and is made up of real guitars, of all different shapes and sizes and colors. My eyes travel up it, examining the instruments, and I feel Will’s eyes on me.
“What?” I ask without looking at him.
“You look awesome in that outfit.”
“This old thing?” I ask and smirk, still not looking away from the sculpture. I’m in a white v-neck t-shirt with a loose, brown cotton vest over skinny blue jeans.
After a few moments, he’s still watching me.
“Do I have something on my face?” I ask dryly.
“No, you’re just so beautiful, with your auburn hair spilling down your back and pink lips parted. I like watching you. You love this, don’t you?”
“More than almost anything,” I respond truthfully. Music saved me when I was taken from Sylvia. It was my whole life in college.
“I’ve heard there’s a place here where you can get on stage,” Will comments casually and I grin.
“There is. No, I’m not getting on it,” I murmur before he can suggest it.
“Why?”
“Stage fright,” I reply and start to lead him away from the sculpture.
“Bullshit.” Will laughs and pulls me against him, his front to my back, and wraps his arms around my waist, kissing my head. “You’re not shy, sweetheart.”
“I just don’t want to.”
“I would love to hear you. Please?”
I sigh against him. I haven’t sung for anyone other than my patients since college. Since the band broke up and Leo left town.
“Maybe,” I mutter and he chuckles behind me.
“Let’s go find it. Before you change your mind.”
“It’s not far.”
We turn a corner, and sure enough, there it is. There’s a room with a stage boasting instruments, lights, even a sound machine that will emit applause and crowd sounds if you really want to feel like a rock star.
Because it’s the middle of the week, there aren’t many people wandering through the museum today, and this room is empty, which is unusual because most people love interactive exhibits.
“Go ahead. I’m dying here.”
I grin up at him and wrinkle up my nose, then gaze back at the stage.
“Why not?” I shrug and climb on stage. I grab an acoustic guitar, plug it into the amp and sit on a stool in the middle of the stage.
There’s suddenly a spotlight on me, and one of the museum employees waves at me and speaks into a mic. “You’re ready to go, miss.”
I nod and strum the guitar, making sure it’s in tune, and speak to Will through the mic.
“What do you want to hear, sir?”
Will laughs. “Whatever you know.”
“I know a lot.” I search through the library in my head and settle on one. “Okay, this one is called I Never Told You.”
I strum the guitar and clear my throat and murmur, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Will laughs at me, his eyes happy and trained intently on me and I just smile and shake my head and continue playing the intro, and then start singing ab
out a blue eyed boy whom I miss after all the things we’d been through. The song is sweet and a little sad, and reminds me a little of Leo, although I was never in love with Leo.
The song comes to an end. I open my eyes and look out at Will. His face is completely sober, his eyes unblinking and still trained on me. He’s leaned his elbows on his knees and isn’t moving.
Glancing around, it occurs to me that other patrons have filed in to listen to the song, and are now applauding, snapping me into the here and now. I smile and say thanks, put the guitar away and walk down the steps toward Will, who is now standing, waiting patiently for me.
“Come here,” he crooks his finger at me and I comply, walking to him.
He pulls me into his arms and off my feet, buries his face in my neck and holds on tight. I have no choice but to wrap my arms tightly around his neck.
“That was beautiful. Meg, why did you ever stop?” he asks as he sets me down, takes my hand and leads me out of the theater. If he hears the other patrons murmur about him being ‘Will Montgomery’ and snapping our photo with their cell phones, he pays them no mind.
“Leo left.” I shrug and feel a tug on my arm as Will stops dead in his tracks.
“Who the fuck is Leo?”
“He was my best friend since I was twelve, and band mate. He’s five years older.”
“And you were in a band together?” Will asks, his voice no softer and I sigh.
“Yes, through college. We got pretty good. He decided to pursue a career in music down in LA and I chose to stay here to pursue nursing.” Of course, I leave out the part about Leo signing with a band behind my back and that he’s now the lead singer of one of the hottest bands in the freaking world.
“Do you really prefer nursing? Honey, you’re a fantastic musician.”
“Thank you.” I kiss his cheek as he holds my door open for me to climb into his car. When he joins me in the car I continue. “I love being a nurse, Will. I’m a damn good one.”
“I know you are.” He takes my hand in his and kisses my fingers before linking them with his and lays our hands in his lap. “I’m just surprised. With a voice like yours, you could go really far.”
“I’m where I need to be,” I say softly.
“Okay.” He winks at me and grins. “Thank you for singing for me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Are you hungry?” he asks. I check the time, and gasp.
“We spent all afternoon there! It’s almost dinner time. So, yeah, I’m hungry.”
“Wanna try burgers again?” he asks with a grin and I smirk.
“Not in downtown Seattle.”
“Nah, I know a place.”
* * *
“I want to show you something,” Will says out of the blue. We’re in his car, having finished our burgers at Red Mill, the same place where we first met that day when I ran into him and Jules.
“What?”
“Well, you shared a really important part of yourself with me today.”
It thrills me that he understands how important music is to me. I smile at him and wait for him to continue.
“So, I want to share something important to me with you.”
“I’m game,” I reply happily.
“Ironic choice of words.” Will chuckles and merges onto Interstate 5 heading south into the city center. I sit back into the plush leather seat and enjoy the ride in this sexy car of his. God, I love this car. It turns me on, big time.
I look over at Will and lick my lips.
He glances my way and then does a double take and gives me a confused smile.
“What?”
“Your car is sexy.”
“Are we back at this again?” he asks and laughs as he changes lanes.
“You look sexy as hell in this car.” I turn in my seat and face him.
His eyes find mine again. “This is only the second date.”
As if I need a reminder.
“Yep.”
“You keep fucking me with your eyes like that…”
“And what?” I interrupt him. “You had me naked and coming on my couch last night and didn’t break the rule. I doubt me eye-fucking you will make you break it either.”
“Jesus, keep talking like that, honey, and see how fast I break your rule. You have quite the dirty mouth you know.”
“I know.” I shrug and laugh. “I went to college with Jules and Natalie. Have you heard them talk lately?”
Will smirks and takes an exit off the freeway.
“Besides,” I continue. “I hung out with a band full of guys. I was never destined to have a clean mouth.”
Suddenly it occurs to me that maybe my language offends him.
“Does it bother you?” I ask.
“Does what bother me?” he asks and pulls into a private underground parking lot under the football stadium.
“My mouth.”
“Your mouth is delicious.”
“My language, smart ass,” I mutter and smack his arm.
“Ouch! You like it rough, sweetheart?” He offers me a wolfish smile and I laugh.
“Sometimes, yeah.”
This gives him pause. He parks the car, shuts it off and stares at me. “Seriously.”
“Sure.” I shrug. “You didn’t answer my question.”
He just stares at me, his mouth agape. I rub his thigh gently with my fingertips.
“Will?”
“Yeah?” He comes out of his trance and swallows.
“Does my language offend you?”
“No.” He shakes his head and frowns. “You’re not nearly as bad as Jules.”
“Few are, Will.” I laugh and climb out of his sexy car. He waits for me, takes my hand, and leads me to an elevator.
“So, obviously, we’re at the football playing place,” I comment casually in the elevator.
“Football playing place?” Will asks and doubles over in laughter.
“You know what I mean.”
“Do you know anything about football?” he asks, delighted with me, and I glare at him.
“Of course I do.”
“What position do I play?” he asks.
“Is this a quiz?”
“A little one.”
“You’re the quarterback.”
“Who do I throw the ball to?” He ushers me out of the elevator and then leans against a wall and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Another guy in a blue and green uniform.” I respond confidently. “Usually,” I add, earning a glare from him.
“I’m going to torture you for that.”
“I hope so, babe.” I grin at him and his face sobers. “What?”
“Why can you call me babe, but I can’t call you that?” he asks.
Good point. I frown and shrug. “I guess babe doesn’t sound like baby to me. It sounds more grown up, maybe? I don’t know. It doesn’t weird me out, though.”
“Okay, so noted. Come on.”
He takes my hand again and pulls me down a long hall and through an enormous set of double doors that open up to a tunnel that leads up to the football field. All of the stadium lights are on. It’s empty.
“How…?”
“I called ahead while you were in the restroom at the restaurant and asked someone to turn the lights on for me.” He continues pulling me out on the field and stops, right in the center of the fifty-yard line.
“Wow,” I whisper and look around the stadium. “How many people can this seat?” I ask.
“Sixty-seven thousand,” he states like it’s no big thing, and I stare at him with an open mouth and wide eyes.
“Holy shit.”
“We sell out every weekend.”
I knew that. Yet, being here, right here, in the middle of the field, looking around at the empty stadium seats, at the enormity of this place, just about knocks me on my ass.
In fact, I just sit, right there, on the turf.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his brow creasing with worry and join
s me on the ground.
I’m speechless as I gaze around the stadium, and it occurs to me that this could have been me, on stage, singing in front of sixty-seven thousand people, rather than small little clubs around Seattle, or reception halls full of wedding guests. If Leo hadn’t made the decision to go without me, I would have been singing in places just like this one.
“Meg?” Will’s worried voice pulls me out of my trance and I shrug.
“You must not get stage fright either,” I murmur.
“Only during the play-offs,” he replies and pushes my hair back over my shoulder. I love how he’s always touching me.
“You’re a lot to take in, you know?” I ask him.
He smiles shyly, and frowns for a second, looking down at this hands. “I can be, yeah. But remember, this is just what I do. It’s only part of who I am.”
“It’s important to you,” I remind him and he nods.
“Very. I’ve played football for as long as I can remember.” He takes one of my hands in his and plays with my fingers. “Football got me through school, Meg. I knew I had to get good grades and stay out of trouble if I wanted to stay on the team. And I did. I wanted the camaraderie with the guys. I had some really smart coaches who pushed me and taught me. It earned me a scholarship to college, and I worked my ass off there too.”
He takes a deep breath and looks up, his eyes taking in the stadium, the scoreboard, the ads. “This is all I ever wanted, and I was lucky enough to get here.”
“This isn’t luck,” I state firmly and his gaze whips to mine, surprised. “Will, this is the result of you working your ass off and earning it. I may not know everything there is to know about football, but I know that it’s not easy, and I know that I’m so very proud of you. Not because of your contract, or the jersey you wear – which you look damn hot in, by the way – but because you’re doing what you always dreamed of. How many of us can say that?”
His eyes soften as he cups my cheek in his big hand and rubs his thumb across my lower lip. He leans toward me and brushes his magical lips over mine, and then sinks into me, pushing me back to lie on the turf. He runs that hand down my face, over my breast, and rests it on my hip as he continues to make love to my mouth, his tongue searching and dancing. Our breathing quickens, and dear God, I want him.