“Not here,” I murmur against Shane’s mouth. “Upstairs.”
He follows my lead as I pull him to his room, his mouth nibbling at my neck, his hand pulling my blouse over to expose my collarbone. Hmm, it’s actually going to be difficult to keep those wandering hands of his away from my back.
“I want you on top,” I tell him, my head foggy with desire as his deft fingers undo the fly of my jeans and pull them down my thighs.
He smiles against my lips. “I think I can manage that.”
Slowly, he lowers me down to his bed, the fresh, clean smell of his sheets hitting my nose. He runs his hands along my abdomen, inching my blouse up little by little, kissing my belly playfully. When he finally removes my top, his eyes zone in on the new sparrow on my arm, his fingers brushing over it tenderly.
“When did you get this?” he breathes.
“Today. Happy anniversary to me,” I answer in a singsong voice.
“So pretty,” he purrs, kissing each sparrow before continuing his way over my chest to my collarbone. I let out little mewling noises of pleasure as his hand drifts between my legs and cups me. Then he does one long stroke, pressing hard over my clit and sinking past the fabric of my underwear. When three of his fingers slide inside of me all at once, filling me up, I realise how wet I am.
“You’re so ready for me,” Shane says huskily, arousal dripping from his words.
“Oh, God,” I moan as he pumps me good and hard.
He rids himself of his clothes in short order, and then he’s sliding his cock over my entrance, teasing me before thrusting all the way in. The entire time his eyes never leave mine. I bring my hands up to his face, marvelling at how his hot gaze peruses me so possessively.
Suddenly, I’m struck with the thought that I could never handle losing him.
His hips move as his desire builds.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, one hand drifting through my hair, which is spread out over his pillow. It’s strange, because I was thinking the exact same thing about him. I lose myself in a haze of sex and need, his hard body working itself into mine, and when he comes, I come with him. He doesn’t pull out as his sweat-soaked chest falls against mine and his breathing slows as he falls asleep.
Twenty-Four
The following week my belly is a bundle of nerves. Not only am I going to be spending an entire weekend with Shane come Friday, but this is also the week that Mona comes to play at the concert hall. Shane and I have been with each other every chance we can get, stolen moments at work and late night visits. I haven’t mentioned Shane’s pseudo declaration in my room last week, and neither has he.
I’ve also managed to avoid having him see the tattoo on my shoulders, which was some feat, given that he has this way of ridding me of my clothes before I even realise it’s happening.
Catching sight of his driver’s licence one evening, I saw that his thirtieth birthday is this weekend, so I make a note to do something special for him.
Right now I’m walking down a corridor at work, returning to the bar after delivering a tray of drinks to a group of businessmen having a meeting in one of the conference rooms. My heart skips a beat when I see Shane walking toward me from the other direction. He’s looking casual in jeans and a dark grey T-shirt. We stop a foot apart, not saying anything but drinking each other in with our eyes.
“Hey, what are you doing here so early?” I ask while he brings his hands to my shoulders, then lets them drift down my arms. At the same time he’s manoeuvring me back against the wall and sucking in a harsh breath.
“I have a rehearsal to get to, but you, babe, are a welcome distraction,” he purrs, and bends his mouth to my neck.
“Shane,” I gasp, making an effort to push him off but not trying nearly hard enough. “We can’t do this here. My supervisor could come by.”
Both his hands move up to my neck, his thumbs rubbing circles into the exposed skin at my throat. “Oh, yeah,” he murmurs, his mouth curved in a wicked smirk. “Tell me more.”
“I could get the sack,” I go on, my protest weak.
“No man would dare sack a face this beautiful,” he disagrees, kissing both my cheeks and then moving in for my mouth. He nibbles on my lips, and I feel myself tremble against the wall.
“It’s a pity my supervisor today is a woman, now, isn’t it?” I finally respond, and he chuckles against my lips.
“I’ve missed your smell,” he murmurs, one hand moulding my hip, pushing up the hem of my work shirt.
“You saw me last night.”
“I know,” he replies with a sullen little expression before capturing my mouth in a deep, wet kiss. My knees practically buckle out from under me when his tongue plunges inside, caressing my tongue in long, languid strokes. I come alive, growing wet between my legs as I clench my thighs together tight. His mouth is like heaven, and he’s kissing me like he does when we’re having sex. There’s no manners to it, just hot, fevered passion. I can feel my cheeks getting warm with a blush. Before I met this man I think I probably blushed about three times in my entire life. Now it’s become a constant look for me.
He draws back an inch and stares at me, his face so close I can feel his breath on my skin. My eyelids are at half-mast, and I’m clenching his shirt with my fist.
“Fuck, you’re all heated up, and now I have to go,” he swears, his eyes consuming me.
My breaths come out quick and heavy. “I told you we couldn’t do this here.”
“Yeah, well, I have a hard time listening to logic when you’re around me.” He pauses and bends close to my ear to whisper, “A real fucking hard time.”
Shivers dance along my skin, and I can’t keep my eyes from quickly glancing at his crotch. Yeah, he isn’t lying.
“You’d better get to your rehearsal,” I tell him, my breathing slowing down a bit.
He lets out a little petulant sigh. “I bet you’re soaking wet right now.”
“Shane,” I say, giving him a small push. “You’ve got to go.”
“I know,” he sighs again, and comes in for a kiss goodbye, this one not nearly as hot as the last, and yet it still speeds up my pulse. With one final stroke of his hand down my cheek, he turns on his heel and continues his way down the corridor.
I gather myself and get back to work, wondering if his practice today is with Mona or if the entire orchestra will be there. As I do a stock take, I try to quell the desire to slip inside the auditorium and find out. After another five minutes of stock-taking, my curiosity gets the better of me, and I go upstairs to the balcony entrance. That way nobody below will notice me come in.
As quietly as I can manage, I push open the door and walk down the aisle, taking a seat in the first row. I look down to the main part of the auditorium to find that my suspicions were right. It is just him and Mona today. The conductor, Henry White, and two other men are sitting a few rows down from the stage. They’re all chatting back and forth to each other while Mona sits at a piano and Shane looks to be tuning his violin.
He seems to have it in tune when he steps forward and calls down to the three men, “What would you like to hear first?”
“Hungarian Dance No. 1,” Henry replies after corresponding with his neighbours.
Shane nods and walks back to the piano, standing only a foot away. I can’t help hating seeing him so close to a woman he was once in love with. It makes me ferociously jealous, and I’ve never had a jealous bone in my body up until now.
I wonder how he proposed to her.
It was probably beautiful, and the bitch didn’t deserve a single second of it. God, these thoughts really frighten me, and I can say without a doubt that this very moment is the closest I’ll come to hitting the bottle again.
Mona seems to be trying to make eye contact with Shane, but he won’t look at her. At least that’s something. A moment later he starts to play; it’s a fast, passionate tune, full of fire and fury. So appropriate for these two. Mona accompanies him on the piano, her part
like a trickling stream of water to his hot, angry inferno. It’s almost like they’re fighting through music. Shane is accusatory, pained, while she is supplicant, trying to win him back.
Is that what this is about?
I know I wasn’t imagining things last week when I’d met her and Justin for the first time. They didn’t strike me as two people in love about to tie the knot and have a baby. They struck as a couple who has come to the realisation that all they ever had was lust and secret thrills. And that lust and those thrills have long grown stale.
Shane walks across the stage as he plays before turning back to the piano. He looks at Mona now, and there’s so much emotion in his eyes that I’m not sure I can continue watching. Does he still have feelings for her, or is it only hate he’s trying to communicate?
The piece comes to a dramatic, swift end and I’m glad those three awful minutes are over. I stand up from my seat and am turning to leave when I stop in my tracks. Standing just inside the door is Mirin, a look on her face like the cat that got the cream. I keep walking. I have no idea what she’s doing there, watching me as I watched Shane and Mona, but I have no desire to engage her in conversation.
Just as I’m passing her by, she starts to speak. “They have so much chemistry on the stage, don’t you think?”
I give her my most nonchalant expression and shrug before muttering a reply, “I’m not sure that’s what I’d call it.”
I shouldn’t have taken the bait, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. What can I say, there’s something about being around a woman who thinks I’m no better than the dirt on her overpriced shoes that rubs me up the wrong way. My “rubbed up the wrong way” metre is cranked right up to eleven.
“They’ll get back together sooner or later,” she says, glancing down at her nails.
“Uh, I hate to break it to you, but Mona’s engaged to Justin and pregnant with his kid.”
Mirin’s eyes gleam now, like she’s been keeping the secret of the century. “She’s going to leave him. She’s confided in me that she’s unhappy and the biggest mistake she ever made was breaking up with my son. I found it in myself to forgive her and gave her my blessing in her efforts to win him back.”
I give her an astounded look. “You do know what she did to him?”
Mirin purses her lips. “All water under the bridge. Mona is right for my son. She’s the most talented pianist to come out of this country in years, and Shane’s star is shining bright. They’re ideal for one another.”
Rolling my eyes, I deadpan, “Oh, well, don’t I just feel so unworthy. Your work here is done, Mommie Dearest.”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, or make insinuations…”
I laugh. “That you’re Joan Crawford? I hate to break it to you, Mirin, but you’re not nearly that interesting.”
And with that I stride right by her and out of the auditorium, feeling triumphant at the sound of outrage she makes upon my departure. That right there was probably the finest last word I’ve ever gotten. Unfortunately, my satisfaction doesn’t last very long, as I hurry to the staff bathroom, lock myself in a cubicle, and take several long, deep breaths.
Shit, I’m not sure I can handle this anymore.
It’s one thing for Mona to be trying to convince Shane to return to the Bohemia Quartet because her dad’s making her do it. It’s another entirely for her to be here trying to win him back. Perhaps Mirin was lying to make me feel insecure so I’d break things off with Shane before they’ve even begun.
God, I hope she was lying. I mean, I can understand why she doesn’t like me. I’m so far from her idea of an approvable girlfriend for her son I might as well be sitting on Mars roasting my bottom. What I don’t get is her continuing support of Mona, a woman who has treated her son so horribly she could be in the running for a worst fiancée of the year award.
I mean, the woman drove him to suicide for God’s sake.
I guess these people will overlook many, many flaws in favour of good breeding and a sophisticated background. Mona is the lesser of two evils in Mirin’s eyes.
After a few minutes, I finally gather my nerve to return to work. Thankfully, this evening’s event won’t be featuring the symphony, so I can avoid Shane, his ex, and his manipulative witch of a mother for the night.
When I arrive home after my shift, I’m surprised to discover Alec and Avery in the living room watching a movie together, the lights turned low. If my estimations are correct, this must be their third or fourth date, and I’ve never known my brother to see a woman more than twice. I smile to myself. Perhaps he’s turned over a new leaf. I take in the sight of them sitting close on the couch before quickly apologising for interrupting and ducking out of the room.
In the kitchen Specky’s bent over her food bowl, eating a few doggie biscuits. I pet her head and sigh. She makes a little rumbling noise and abandons her food to come and hop up on my lap. I love dogs. They never have any shame about letting you know just how much they’ve missed you.
“Oh, Specky, you should have seen the drama I’ve dealt with today.”
She makes a sound that’s too tame to be a bark, sort of like a questioning noise. Before I can continue being pathetic and telling my problems to my dog, my phone buzzes loudly from where I set it on the table. I pick it up to find a message from Shane.
Shane: You coming over tonight? xxx
Jade: Too tired. Tomorrow?
Shane: I could come to you.
Jade: The walls in this house are paper thin.
I’m hoping he gets what I mean by that, because no way are we having sex here within hearing distance of all three of my siblings. That would just be too weird. Plus, after what I saw transpire between him and Mona today, I need some time to myself to think. They might not have actually spoken to each other during their practice, but the multitude of emotions that were flying around the auditorium was enough to make me dizzy.
It feels like there’s still so much that’s unresolved between the two of them.
Shane: I can be really quiet…
Jade: Unfortunately, I can’t. How’d your practice go?
I can’t believe I just asked that question, but I needed to change the subject and couldn’t think of anything else on the spot.
Shane: It was with Mona. More painful than getting a tooth pulled minus the anaesthetic.
I smile at his creative description. At least he didn’t lie about Mona being there.
Jade: Did you two get the chance to talk?
It takes a few minutes longer than usual for him to reply.
Shane: I don’t have anything to discuss with that woman.
Jade: You sure about that?
Shane: Positive. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk about what underwear you have on.
Hmm, that was a crafty change of subject. I laugh out loud.
Jade: Are you trying to sext me, Mr Arthur?
Shane: Of course. Underwear?
Jade: Black lace.
Shane: I like you in black. Are you alone?
I stand up from the table and Specky hops off my lap, returning to her bowl of doggie biscuits. Walking upstairs to my room, I shut the door and text him back.
Jade: I am now.
Shane: Where?
Jade: My room.
Shane: Lie down on your bed.
Jade: Okay…
Shane: Fuck, I’m hard just picturing you. Take off your top and pull down your bra.
Before I get the chance to take my top off completely, April shrieks loudly from her room, yelling something about hurting her hand when trying to move her bed. Shit. I shrug back into my top and type out a quick text to Shane.
Jade: Got to go. There’s an April emergency.
Shane: Babe.
Jade: I know, I’m sorry. Go get some sleep. You’ve got a big show tomorrow.
Shane: Okay. I hope April’s all right. xxx
With that I hurry to April’s room to find she was trying to rearrange her furnit
ure and got stabbed with a rusty nail when she was lifting one end of her bed. Tears are streaming down her face, and there’s a nasty wound in the centre of her palm. Too nasty to be sorted with a bit of Savlon and a Band-Aid. I wrap my arm around her and give her a squeezy hug before making arrangements to head to A&E.
My neighbour Barry drives us, and we don’t get home until the early hours of the morning. I drop onto my bed, exhausted, and have just enough time to set my alarm before I conk out.
The next day I arrive at work around lunchtime, yawning all the while since I didn’t get as much sleep as usual. April’s been complaining nonstop about having to wear an unsightly bandage on her hand, so I’m happy to be out of the house, even if it does mean dealing with the stress of Shane and Mona’s concert.
Apparently, every last ticket has been sold. Never let it be said that people don’t enjoy a good scandal. If it’s true that Shane’s fans have been boycotting his old group’s concerts, then it must be common knowledge that Mona cheated on him, despite the fact that Shane himself denies it when asked.
I kind of respect him for that. He could have played up the sympathy card, but he didn’t. In fact, I’ve been doing a bit of covert Googling on my phone during my break period, and have discovered that before Shane came to play with the symphony no one had heard anything from him for more than a year. I’m guessing a good deal of that time was spent recovering from his suicide attempt, but still, for such a well-known musician that’s a long time to be out of the spotlight.
I wouldn’t normally be so determined to delve into his life before we met, but Mirin’s words from yesterday are still affecting me. Still making me question what would happen if Mona broke things off completely with Justin and laid herself at Shane’s feet. Would he step right over her, or pick her up and take her back into his warm, strong arms?
You see, on the outside I may act like everything falls right off me like water, but on the inside I’m as insecure as they come. My brain finds these ways of twisting things, blacking out all the signs that show Shane only has eyes for me and making me question if a part of that gorgeous gaze still belongs to Mona.