Page 8 of Hot in the City
Her breath
Her voice
Like an angel’s wing
Taking me higher
Samuel’s voice was transcendent, lifting high above the crowd. The slow ballad was a love song, pure and true. From her vantage point backstage in the wings, she watched every ripple of muscle along his arms and back, the way his body swayed as he sang. Beautiful.
Everything about him was beautiful. And he wanted her, as much as she wanted him. She hoped. The nervous fluttering in her belly was worse than butterflies now, like trapped pigeons in a cage, wings flapping madly and trying to escape.
It was nearly the end of the band’s set. The guitarist was enjoying his solo, going off on a tangent. Samuel looked in her direction and grinned, bounding across the stage to her side as the song ended. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her full on the mouth, tasting her so thoroughly she nearly melted into the floor.
Then her fingers were in his hair, pulling him down into the kiss. His arms banded around her waist, holding her upright. Scattered kisses rained down on her cheekbones, nose and lips, before he stopped and stared into her eyes.
Whispering in her ear, he said, “I’m thinking we don’t hang around for drinks. Give me two minutes.”
She could only nod, beaming her approval of his excellent plan. Straightening her little black dress, a 60s crochet number with a plunging neckline, she hoped she looked the part. Rock chick girlfriend, not some old broad he’d picked up like an ancient groupie.
When his voice rang out again for one last song, she focussed. He was back in front of the band, really letting it rip. The music flowed through her body, washed over her mind. A soaring note ended the show, the stage lights fading to black, the crowd applauding. All of it second to him.
Beautiful. A beautiful present waiting to be unwrapped.
All hers. Maybe. She bit her lip.
“Beautiful, Beth.” Samuel stood close behind her and slid her zip down her back, kissing the exposed nape of her neck and the sensitive spot between her shoulder blades.
Shivering, she tried not to second guess it. His lips, his touch, that’s all there was. She closed her eyes, blocking out his unfamiliar, too trendy apartment. A bachelor pad. She was out of place.
Nerves made her tense up. Being close to him was like flying too close to the sun. Long forgotten sensations throbbed through her, her whole body demanding attention. Each part in turn. Her lips, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, between her thighs. She wanted him inside her, like she’d never wanted any other man. But he was going so damn slow. And too fast.
Her dress dropped from her shoulders, down to her hips. Too fast.
What if he’d never seen a naked woman as old as her? What if she turned him off? Her eyes snapped open and she pulled her dress up to cover her breasts. She’d gone braless on account of the neckline, but without her dress she’d be truly naked, apart from a tiny scrap of black lace masquerading as underwear. Hardly battle armour. In case she needed to protect herself.
“Beth, what’s wrong?” He urged her to turn in his arms.
She did, and instantly regretted it. He was so handsome. So overwhelming. She trembled, and he rubbed his hands up and down her arms, probably trying to soothe her. It turned her on and terrified her in equal measure.
“You’re just so. . . handsome and strong and beautiful and talented and young, and your apartment is cool and hip and I’m just me. I’m old and kind of daggy and boring and only like one type of coffee. And Jenny said it’s been so long since I’ve had sex I’ve probably dried up down there–”
There. He’d asked what was wrong, so she’d told him. She blushed down to her shoes. She’d probably have to leave now, once she’d dug herself out of her pit of mortification.
He didn’t laugh, but his mouth curved up at the corners a fraction. Fair enough. “Okay, so you’re nervous. One thing at a time. I like that you think I’m beautiful and strong and talented. I’m flattered that you think so. Because I think all of those same things about you. And you are not old. You’re gorgeous, from your hair to your stunning legs, and if I don’t see your breasts pretty soon I think I’m going to pass out.’
He grinned broadly, that cheeky dimple making an appearance. “If you’re boring, you’re my type of boring. One type of coffee? The type I make? It’s the best. Of course you like it.” Stepping towards her, he twisted a lock of her hair around his finger.
She hiccupped on a laugh, crossed with a small sob. He was so lovely. “What about your apartment? It’s too cool. I feel like an imposter here.” She gestured around wildly at sculpted steel tables and lights that looked like spaceships.
She clutched her dress to her breasts as it slipped, only just holding onto it. His eyes flicked down to her cleavage and everything south of her belly button tightened.
“I’ll let you in on a secret. I rented the apartment fully-furnished from a mate who went gigging around Australia. Most of it’s not even my stuff. Except the photos. And the bed.”
Her laugh was a little more confident this time. Except he’d mentioned his bed. Her heart pounded. Make or break, this was it. He’d laid it all bare for her, more than once. Time she did the same.
Her dress hit the floor with barely a whisper, but it was like a thunderclap in the silent room. The only other sound was Samuel’s heavier-than-usual breathing. Matching her own.
He stalked towards her, the final two steps. His gaze roamed over her body as he spoke. “I think there was one more objection we still need to clear up. Your so-called friend, Jenny. She said something quite rude and I think, totally untrue.” Placing his large hand on her thigh, he shifted his hand up. Slowly, ever higher.
