Page 131 of Cadence
He started writing, too, a little whenever inspiration struck. No pressure, no deadlines, just words and melody and memory.
“Watching your mind work in real time…it’s unreal,” he said. “I get why so many songs you wrote landed in the charts.”
I stopped drying a plate at the sink, my face recoiling in horror as I stared at him from across his kitchen. “God, you really are a sap, aren’t you?”
He lunged for me, tossed me over his shoulder, and threw me onto the sofa, crushing me under his weight until we were breathless and panting, tearing off each other’s clothes.
But life didn’t stop just because we hit pause. Now, the last show of the North American leg of Reign’sLost and Foundtour is tonight, and we’re back in the studio, rehearsing after nearly two weeks apart.
Only now it’s different from when we were here last.
Leaning against Maddox on the sofa, legs bent in front of me, his notebook sits open against my thigh. Pen looped through my fingers, I scribble the final lines of the bridge we’ve been working on since yesterday.
Maddox’s arm drapes along the back of the couch, fingers absently playing with the ends of my hair, curling it around them, tugging at them gently. His mouth’s pressed to the back of my head, not quite kissing, as he reads over my shoulder.
Singing under my breath, the half-melody, half-thought not completely right yet, I glance up, staring at nothing before muttering quietly, checking the lyrics out loud.
“I think it’s almost done,” I murmur, raising the notebook higher so he can see.
“It’s looking good,” he says, brushing his thumb along my shoulder, goosebumps tracking in its wake.
Chewing on my lower lip, I add one more line before reading the whole thing through, grinning as I hand him the notebook. “What do you think?”
I watch as he reads it once, and then again.
“I think we’ve got it,” he says.
“Really?
He nods. “It’s amazing. Just a little bruised, but full of light.”
I sigh, tipping my head back against his chest as he closes the notebook and sets it on the arm of the couch, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“What about adding it to our next album?”
I go rigid, turning very slowly to face him. “What?”
He lifts a shoulder like it’s no big deal, and I move quickly, a flash of auburn filling his face as I spin and straddle him, eyes boring into his.
“Hold on,” I tease, scrunching my nose up in disbelief. “Is the great Maddox Knox agreeing to have a song that’s not completely written by him on the next album?”
“Baby, I haven’t been writing my songs on my own for a while,” he says, hands grazing up my thighs. “You’ve been in every one of them.”
I try to hold in my smirk, I really do, but my body betrays me, gently shaking as I laugh.
“What? I’m trying to be nice,” he chuckles.
This time, my laughter rings out, and I suck in a breath, trying to smother it. “I know, and I’m sorry. I guess I’m still getting used toniceMaddox and not the arrogant asshole you normally are.”
Reaching around, he squeezes my ass in both hands, his voice dropping to a low timber that makes me shiver. “If asshole Maddox is who you want…”
He leans forward and flicks his tongue along the shell of my ear before sucking the lobe between his teeth and nipping.I squirm, grinding down onto his lap, feeling his cock twitch behind his zipper. He pulls me closer, the friction a delicious kind of torture when I know, at any second, the rest of the band will show up.
But neither of us seems to care.
Not when he starts running his nose along my jaw to my lips, his tongue pushing past the seam, drinking in the quiet moan I release when he licks into my mouth. He kisses like a damn god, and I whimper, his hands rocking me against him, my hips taking on the rhythm and following his lead.
“We should stop,” I breathe against his lips, but make no move to do so. “The guys…”
