Page 14 of Erik

This sinner can’t be saved

Outcast, shunned, and depraved

In the darkness I’ve embraced

I’ve found purpose and solace

When I pluck the last notes, she applauds, confessing, “This is hands down one of my favorite songs by Muse of Darkness. I jog almost every morning to this tune.” She pauses, before adding in a breathy whisper, “To have my own private session is beyond my wildest dreams.”

My cock reacts at the idea of an intimate session with her while she performs my wildest dreams, and I press my legs to decrease the pressure inside the pants.

I tug a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, relishing at the sudden inhalation she takes.

Grinning, I lean forward, and murmur, “Funny you feel that way.”

We lock stares for a spell. When I don’t elaborate, because I want the information to sink in, she arches an eyebrow. “Why?”

Her rapid breathing fans my cheek. She’s almost ready for the bombshell.

I drop my eyes to her lips for a beat. She bites the lower one. The image stiffens my cock further.

A lazy smile curves my mouth up as I return my gaze to hers. “Because you inspired it.”

Cartoon characters could be modeled after the way her jaw slacks, and eyes widen. She stares, unabashed at me. After releasing a deep breath, she utters, “Wow. I did not see that one coming.” Shrugging, and waving her hands in the air, she moves her lips, without sounding words. Finally, she repeats, “Wow.”

I spring to my feet, offering a hand to her. “Come on. You look like you need a stiff drink.”

Grabbing my fingers, she hoists herself up, and snorts, “Can you blame me?” Rubbing a hand on her cheek, she adds, “How? I mean, you wrote the song years ago…”

I interrupt her, “Almost six.”

She gawks at me for a couple of beats, then shakes her head. The gears inside it grind when that tidbit of information hits her cerebral cortex. Her mouth forms a perfect ‘no’, but she says something else, “This is insane. You telling me you wrote that after a concert in Boston?”

I nod. “The one we met at.”

She stumbles backward until her body leans against the trunk of the tree. She mumbles, “You remember it?”

I cup her face with my right hand. I rub her cheek with my thumb. Her skin, as soft as a rose’s petal, burns under my finger. A lovely pink hue spreads from her neck upward. I step into her personal space, my knee parting her thighs, I lean until my breath caresses her lips.

My heart beats in my throat, but I resist the temptation of claiming her half-open mouth. Not yet. I moisten my parched lips with the tip of my tongue, and it glides dangerously close to her lower lip. She swallows hard.

I must break this spell before I kiss her senseless in broad daylight, in the middle of a fucking movie set.

“I’ve never forgotten you. That night, you were like a vision to me. An angel who’d come down from heaven to show me there was still good in this world.”

She gasps. “I - I don’t know what to say.”

Way to go, dumb ass. I could smack myself for revealing too much. Guess the little game I’ve played to gauge how much I’d be able to arouse her backfired. It’s affected my own rational thinking.

Time for damage control mode.

I take a few steps back and give her a one-shoulder shrug. “Obviously, I was so high that night, I wasn’t sure any of those memories were real.”

With that offhand comment, I restore order to my chaotic life. Last thing I need is Christine thinking I’ve pined for her all these years. Better remind her - and myself - I’m a selfish rockstar with drug issues.

She shakes her head, glances about herself, and stoops to gather the guitar I’ve left on the grass. When she straightens up, the pink color on her cheeks has turned a raging shade of red.

Avoiding eye contact, she offers, “It’s late, I should get going. Raincheck on that drink?”

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