"Let It Flow" (part two)

by Sanhedralite

“You were at the show.” He opened his eyes, really looked. It had been her.

“Yes.” Her cool eyes watched him, but he barely felt it. He was too caught up in the memory.

“Right in front of me. I remember you cried during ‘The Chauffeur.’”

“You do have a very good memory.” She sounded almost embarrassed and he wanted to tell her not to be-that it had been so beautiful at the time.

“You came up to me after the show, in the lobby at the hotel. There were a few other fans there and I’d been talking to them, but as soon as I saw you...” He trailed off.

“As soon as you saw me...”

“I couldn’t stop thinking of a way to get you naked with me,” he finished, then took a long sip of wine. Fuck, no wonder he’d bonded so quickly with her at the recent shows. He’d been wanting her for years. “I asked you up to my room for a drink, but you said no.” Funny how the rejection hurt just as much now as it had then.

“I was very involved with someone then,” she replied, smiling a little. “I was tempted. God, I was tempted. But, fidelity means something to me.”

“So why are you here now?” What had changed her mind?

“I’m not seeing anyone right now, Warren.” She reached over, took his hand, linked her fingers with his. “And I’ve been waiting for a chance to see if it would still be like this between us.”

“That’s why you waited until tonight.” It made sense-wait until L.A., where it all began. Too bad it was the wrong hotel. But, it didn’t matter. The years didn’t matter. She was here now, real and warm, and that was what counted.

“Would you do a favor for me?” she asked, bringing his hand up to her lips, branding it.

“What?” His voice sounded rough to his own ears. His heart was beating much too fast. And she’d barely touched him.

“Well, two actually. First, I want you to kiss me, really kiss me, with your whole body, with all that passion unleashed.” She put a hand to his chest to stop him when he would have obeyed right away. “And, second, I want you to play for me.”

“Play?” His mind was still so dazed from the imagery of her first request that the second barely registered.

“You remember the original ending in ‘Midnight Sun’? The beautiful guitar part that got cut from the demo?” He nodded. “That’s what I want to hear,” she said, “although you could play just about anything for me and I'd be just fine with that. I just want to hear you playing just for me.”

“Alright.” He could handle that. It was always about the music with the two of them anyway. “But, first, I want my kiss.”

Warren leaned her back, stretched out over her so they were body to body, perfectly aligned. He tried to keep his eyes open as he lowered his head, but at the first sweet, impossibly intoxicating taste of her, he let them flutter closed. He tasted, drinking from her lips, slanting his mouth over hers again and again, learning her moans, nipping her lower lip, feasting on her tongue. She came completely undone in his arms, wrapped her limbs around him, learning the taste of him as he had her. The kiss went on forever, each second more enthralling than the last. He filled his hands with her hair, cradled her close, dove in for more; he couldn’t get enough. He was so hard, he was shaking-so needy, he could’ve come right then.

Slowly, he gentled, lingering, savoring, until at last he could lift his head and look down at her. He watched her lick her full lips like she was still trying to taste him, watched her stretch in satisfaction, moving their bodies even closer together. She fluttered open her eyelids and gazed at him like a well-satisfied cat.

“I could kiss you all day,” she murmured, stroking his cheek.

“I could deal.” He had no problem with that at all.

“Do I get my private concert now?”

“Oh, right, yeah.” His brain was scrambled. He didn’t want to leave her, but it was a bit impossible to play the guitar when one was prone on top of a woman.

He went into the bedroom, grabbed the acoustic that never left his side. He couldn’t imagine ever being out of arm’s reach of his guitar-he’d go fucking nuts. He came back out to the living area and saw that she’d sat up, but didn’t bother to straighten her clothes. She looked wildly disheveled, thoroughly kissed and imminently fuckable.

“You want me to refill your glass?” May as well play good host.

“No, I’ll get it. You tune your guitar or whatever it is you do to warm up.” She waved her hands, smiled apologetically, then got up and went to the kitchen area. “You’d think I would know this stuff, what with my dad being a musician and all.”

“Your dad plays?” Warren sat down on the sofa, running his fingers over the chords.

“Yeah, professionally and everything.” She came back from the fridge with two full glasses of wine. “Guitar, piano, you name it. He’s a session musician, has played with some biggies. He’s even had a few cds of his own out.”

“I’d like to hear one.” Warren was always interested in other musicians, people who were able to make a living at this. It always seemed a miracle to him that he’d been able to, been successful, played in two major bands, played for Frank. He’d been blessed by the muses, that was for goddamn sure.

“Maybe I’ll send one to you. He writes straight, good old-fashioned rock n roll,” she said, as she sat back down on the sofa. She grabbed her glass, tucked her feet under her. “But, enough about my dad. Let’s hear you.”

“I was right,” Warren said, strumming slowly, getting into the feel of the instrument. Acoustics were so much different than electrics-no racks, no pedals, no knobs. Just the guitar.

“How’s that?”

“It is all about the music to you.”

“If it was, I wouldn’t have wanted that kiss,” she argued, but winked as she said it.

“But it’s the music first with you. It’s in your blood.” He reached over, used two fingers to gently close her eyes. “Let me prove it to you.”

He began to play-simple things at first-the lead in to “Come Undone”, “Suddenly Spring” from RoadRage, his revamped “Buried In The Sand”. Songs flowed into one another, melding as he lost himself in the chords, in her ecstatic reaction, in the way the music washed over and in both of them. He would have played for her forever, just to keep that look on her face. He never knew that anyone else could get as lost in the music as he did. Watching her was the most pure joy-the way she seemed to get lost in the notes, in the feel, the emotion of the music.

He did as she asked, finished with the original guitar solo from “Midnight Sun” and had the pleasure of seeing her cry again when he segued it into “The Chauffeur” to end it. He let the last notes die away, set his guitar down and kissed the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

“You shouldn’t cry,” he whispered, kissing her eyelids.

“It’s my favorite song.” She opened her eyes, gave him a look that rocked him. “I want to be naked with you.”

“Best invitation I’ve heard all day.” He grinned to lighten the mood, stood and held out a hand. Her soft fingers closed around him as she got up and he led her to the bedroom and shut the door. Even if Robert did find his way back to the hotel, he knew better than to knock on closed doors.

Warren pried apart her wringing hands. “You don’t have to do this. Say the word and we’ll go back to the living room, watch a movie or something.”

“It’s not that, it’s just...”. She took a deep breath and it seemed to calm her down somewhat. “I’m just a little nervous.”

“Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll go first. You can take your time.” It was no deal to him-he loved being naked. He dropped his vest to the floor, unbuttoned his pants, let them slide to the floor.

“You don’t wear underwear?”

“Too confining.” He kicked the clothes aside, laced his hands behind his neck and gloried in her amazed reaction to him. It was moments like these that made every ounce of sweat he’d shed over the past 10 years worth it. He shuddered when she ran a light touch over his chest, his triceps, his shoulders.

“How do you maintain all this, anyway?” she asked. “Every time I see you, you’re more buff than you were the last time.”

“Well, I’m thinking about competing now, so my regimen’s changed a little.” How was he supposed to think, let alone converse, when she was still running her hands all over him? “I’m into more specialized lifting.”

“Well, you should be very pleased with the results.” She touched her lips to his, running her tongue over them. He opened his mouth to groan and she used the opportunity to tug on his lower lip, sucking gently on it.

Warren pulled her to him, slanting his mouth over hers, molding his hands to fit her. He tugged and pulled, never leaving her sweet mouth, until her garments were piled in a heap on the floor. He came up for air, laid eyes on her naked body and promptly drew another shaky breath.

“So, you don’t wear underwear either?” he asked, raking her with a hot gaze.

She smiled, pure wickedness in her eyes. “Too confining.”

He was too turned on to laugh. She was all lush curves and soft skin and he couldn’t get close enough. He grabbed her hand, pulled her into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

“C’mon.” He didn’t wait for a reply, he just hauled her in, slammed her against the tile and feasted. The water was warm as it washed over them, but all he felt was the way she shuddered when he took a taut nipple in his mouth. She was so responsive, so alive in his arms. She tugged on his hair, wrapped her legs around him, as he roved from one honeyed spot to the next. Her neck, chest, legs, arms-every part of her was a delight, brimming with possibilities. Every sigh, every moan, every choked scream felt like the first time-everything felt new when she was in his arms. He pushed her wet hair back from her face, pinned her with his body.

“Why did we wait so long for this?” he asked, stroking her cheek.

She turned her head, kissed the inside of his hand. “What does it matter?” she asked. “We’re here now.”

She was right. Why mourn the past? She was here, wet and willing, and he was happy. He glided her down his body, slid inside her warmth. God, she was so hot, so tight around him-pulsating heat that seared his every nerve. She wrapped her legs tighter around him, holding him inside, and began to move, with the water creating even more unbearable friction between them. He grabbed her legs, held her still and plunged deep, making them both groan. He tried to go slow, tried to savor, but couldn’t. She wouldn’t let him-she kept moving, urging him to go deeper, to thrust harder. He captured her mouth, kissing her deep and hard. His tongue moved in perfect alignment with his lower body and she dueled with him, kissed him back, welcomed him home. He could feel his orgasm building, felt her twitch around him, and knew she was close. He reached between them, brushed his thumb across her nub and felt her explode, watched as she came, sobbing his name. He drove inside her one more time, let himself go and followed her into oblivion.

“Can you move yet?” Her voice was muffled; she was draped across him, with her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Thank God for the wall or else they’d both be on the floor of the bathtub. “Why?”

“It’s nothing really, except that the water’s getting pretty cold and I think my legs are asleep.”

Funny, he hadn’t noticed the water until she mentioned it. There was something to be said for hazy afterglows. “I suppose you want to get out now?”

“I did see a really comfortable bed in the next room.” She lifted her head, batted her eyelashes. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in a bed?”

He grinned, moved away from her and turned off the water. “You’ve got a way with arguments,” he said, wrapping them both in towels. “I’d dry you off myself, but I need to recover first.”

“I think I can handle it.”

The bed was much more comfortable. And more conducive to exploration. Warren drove them both crazy the second time around and paid loving homage to every part of her until she was begging him to take her. There was no sweeter sound in the whole word than that of a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it. But she got him back, had her revenge when she explored his body with lips and hands and tongue. She was amazing, inventive... and as in love with his body as he was with hers.

They finally drifted to sleep around dawn and it seemed like Warren had just gotten comfortable when the phone rang. Dave was apologetic, but, they had a plane to catch and a show to play.

“Is it time to wake up already?” She pushed her hair away from her face and looked at the clock. “Oh, man,” she groaned, and flopped back on the pillow.

“You can stay, get some rest,” he told her, as he reluctantly rolled out of bed. “I’ve got the room until noon.”

“I have my own room, Warren,” she reminded him. “I’ll sleep there. I would feel awkward being here without you anyway, especially since you’re sharing with Rob.”

He shrugged. She had a point. “Will I see you in Vegas?” he asked, as he pulled on his jeans. He had to see her again, be inside her again. She was addictive.

“What do you think, Warren?” She sat up, stared at him. “You think I went through all this just to have a one night stand?”

No, he didn’t. If that had been all she wanted, she would have had him back in Atlanta or New York or whatever. He watched appreciatively as she got out of bed and started putting on her clothes. Fuck, her legs were spectacular.

“I was going to take a few days off after the tour ended, go to New York, see my mom. Wanna come?” Man, where had that come from? He wasn’t in the habit of introducing his mom to people. She did just fine on her own.

She looked as floored as he felt. “Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m serious.” And he was too. Why not spend some time with her, have her meet the family? They’d love her and he’d have a great time showing her around the neighborhood. “It’ll be fun. I’ll get Dave to get a plane ticket for you. We can leave from Portland.”

“I’m not going to Portland.”

“Why not?” She’d made just about every other show.

“I don’t do festivals. I only want to see you guys, not 10 other bands I hate, just to see you do a shortened version of your set,” she explained, while she laced up her boots. “Sounds boring.”

“Okay, so you can meet me after the show and we can leave together.”

She put her hand over his, gazed at him with those extraordinary eyes. “Are you sure you really want to do this?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He brought her hand to his lips, kissed it. “I’m not asking you to marry me or anything. I just want to spend some time with you when we don’t have to be anywhere else.”

She was silent for another minute, then nodded. “Okay, deal. I’ll call work, change a few things.”

Fuck yeah. “I’ll tell Dave to make the return an open-ended one. You can stay as long as you like.”

“Sounds fair.” She leaned down, brushed her lips with his. “Thanks.”

“Thank you,” he corrected, then kissed her again. “We’re staying at the Venetian in Vegas. Wanna meet me for dinner?”

“Sure. My flight’s at 3, so I should be there around 4. Just don’t try to feed me those supplement pills of yours,” she smiled.

“Promise.” He stood, slung his bag over his shoulder, picked up his guitar. “Can I walk you to the elevator?”

“Okay.”

They walked out and were assaulted by Rob’s loud snores. He was sprawled on the sofa, clothes and shoes still on, wildly rumpled and looking sublimely happy with the world.

“Does he always smile like that when he’s asleep?” she wanted to know, as they made their way out the door and to the elevator.

“Only when he’s dreaming about busty blondes,” Warren replied. He punched the button and they got in, riding in silence to her floor.

“You will be there, right?” Why was he asking again? She’d already said yes. When did he get to be so goddamn paranoid?

She leaned in, kissed his cheek. “Dinner, 4:30, your room. I’m there.”

“Do you have a place to stay when you get there?”

“Are you making me a better offer?”

“If you want it.”
“I think I can swing it,” she replied, then stepped out. “Have a good flight. See ya in a few.”

“Later.” The doors shut and he almost punched her floor again, just to get another kiss. But that would have been unbearable sappy and he wasn’t into that shit. He’d see her in a bit, he could handle the fucking separation.

Nick and Dave and Andrew Day were already at the front desk, signing papers and checking out. Nick looked up, saw Warren and smiled that Cheshire grin.

“Good for you,” he said and walked outside to wait for the limo.

How did he always know what was going on without Warren saying anything? He couldn’t keep a secret from Nick if he tried. Absolutely nothing got by the man.

“Did Nick mean what I think he did, Warren?” Dave sidled up to Warren, looked around. “Well, did you or didn’t you?”

There were no secrets on tour. None. “I did.” He paid his bill, walked out to stand beside Nick. Dave and Andrew followed.

“And?” Dave was all curiosity.

“And she’s coming to Vegas.”

Dave held out a hand to Andrew. “Pay up.”

“How much did you bet this time?” Nick asked.

“Only 20,” Andrew replied, slapping the bill on Dave’s hand.

“I keep telling you not to bet against Dave,” Warren stated, too used to the antics to even care that they were betting on his sex life. They bet on everything.

“One day I’ll win.” Andrew sounded positive, but Warren severely doubted it.

“What about after the tour, then?” Nick pitched his voice low so as not to be heard by the still bickering Dave and Andrew.

“We’re spending a few days together in New York.” Warren couldn’t wait.

Nick nodded and seemed pleased. “Very nice. I like her.”

“Me, too, Nick.” What a fucking understatement.

The limo pulled up and everyone piled in. Warren took a look back at the hotel as they cruised up a thankfully deserted Sunset. Vegas was just a few hours away. She was just a few hours away. He could hardly wait to feel the magic all over again. Could hardly wait until it was just the two of them and the music, forever the music. He’d be there and so would she and nothing else would matter. He was already looking forward to it.

“Here’s to tonight,” he said to himself, grinned, and closed his eyes, drifted off to sleep. The future had already begun. Almost showtime.

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