Heartstrings (14 page)

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Authors: Hadley Danes

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Heartstrings
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Chapter Nine

* * * * *

 

As usual, my alarm goes off far too soon for my own liking.
For a minute, my sleepy head is swarmed with thoughts of the mundane: where I’m
going to stop for coffee on the way to work, whether or not my scrubs are
clean. Then, as I rise up out of sleep, I feel the strong, sturdy arms of Slade
Hale wrapped around me. My everyday worries are immediately blasted away as the
whirlwind that’s been the last few days of my life sweeps back into my mind.
It’s hard to believe all that’s happened in the past week. I’ve gone from
waking up to nagging thoughts of errands to waking up fresh off an adventure
with my own personal rock star.

I turn my face toward Slade’s. Sleeping, he’s almost too
perfect to look at for long. His sculpted, gorgeous features are calm, resting,
still and flawless. He doesn’t seem the least bit perturbed about my blaring
alarm clock. I suppose he had to deal with a lot of noise during most of his
life—he can probably sleep through anything. I try to roll away from him to the
edge of the bed, but his arms tighten around me at once.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growls sleepily.

“To work,” I tell him, planting a kiss on his arm, “Remember
that whole nursing thing I do?”

“Do I ever,” he says, “But before you go, I have an idea...”

He shifts against me, and I can feel the stiff length of his
member rubbing against my ass. I swallow a moan of desire—I’d like nothing
better in the world than to blow off my shift and roll around with Slade under
the sheets all day. Somehow, in the course of the night, we managed to pull off
our scant articles of clothing and climb under the sheets.

“I have to go,” I tell him, “What if I had skipped work the
day you were wheeled in?”

“That...would have been a tragedy,” he says finally. His
arms loosen and I’m able to roll out from under the sheets and blankets. “Why
don’t I come with you?” he suggests.

“To the hospital?” I say, heading for the bathroom.

“Sure,” he says, “Why not? You came to my job.”

“It’s a little different, I think,” I tell him.

“How come? You watched me do my work, I’ll watch you do yours.
I can just stand off to the side while you’re saving people’s lives and all.
It’ll be a blast.”

“I think you’d be a little distracting,” I tell him, turning
on the shower.

“I suppose you have a point,” he says, sitting up in bed.
The insistent bulge between his legs is straining at the container of his
boxers. I hurriedly avert my gaze, wishing I’d set my alarm clock a little
earlier so that I could finally enjoy Slade the way I’ve wanted to, so badly. I
consider switching on the cold water and dousing myself with a cold shower. I
might need one if I’m ever going to get out of the house on time.

Slade saunters my way as I step into the shower. “What are
you doing?” I ask.

“Getting in the shower with you,” he smiles.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I tell him, holding up
my hands. “I’ve got about twenty minutes to blow this pop stand, I’m...” I
trail off as Slade slides his briefs down his sculpted thighs and straightens
up, not a stitch of clothing on his body. His staggering erection is pointing straight
toward me, and I feel my legs start to shake beneath me. “You son of a
bitch...” I whisper.

“I’d like to have longer than twenty minutes with you,
though,” he growls.

“Tell you what,” I say, taking a cautious step toward him,
“Why don’t we finish this tonight?”

“After the show?” he asks, “That would be some way to kick
off the rest of the tour, huh?”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” I say, “You play the Philly
kickoff show, and I’ll be there waiting for you the minute I get off work.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he says, “I’m not sure how I’ll
be able to concentrate tonight, though. What if I forget the words to all my
songs because I’m too busy thinking about you?”

I eye his persistent, pulsating member, feeling myself
growing wetter just thinking about how good it will feel to take Slade inside
of me. I can feel my breath begin to quicken, that aching throb ringing out
through my core. I let my eyes flick up toward Slade’s—they’re swirling with
wanting me. That puts me right over the edge. I can’t not act on what I’m
feeling. I step into the shower and glance over my shoulder at those
smoldering, unstoppable eyes.

“Come on,” I say, stepping under the hot flow of the water.

Grinning, he follows me. The warm mist of the water as it
splashes off his hard body makes me shiver. I run my hands down his firm chest,
my wet hands sliding over his muscles. I feel his hands gripping my hips, and
take a step closer toward him. His throbbing member brushes against me, drawing
a moan from deep down inside of me. I need to take him inside of me right
now—one way or another.

I push Slade up against the wall of the shower, and a look
of surprise flits across his face. He likes it when I take charge, a little—and
it only turns me on more. I kiss his neck deeply, flicking my tongue against
his taut, muscular flesh. Kiss by kiss, I work my way down to his chest. I let
my hands close around his long, pulsing rod. He takes a deep breath as I wrap
my fingers around his impressive width. I need both hands to take all of him,
and I’m more than happy to use them.

I travel down, kissing every inch of him that I land on, as
my hands work up and down the length of him. He tangles his fingers into my
hair as I drop to my knees in front of him. My eager mouth is level with the hard
length of flesh I’m working between my hands. With water pouring down over my
head, through my hair, splashing against my naked body, I bring my lips to the
tip of his manhood. I hear a sharp intake of breath from above as I lay a kiss
on his swollen head. His fingers tighten in my hair, just enough to sting a
little.

With my hands moving up and down in rhythmic strokes, I take
the tip of him into my mouth. I flick my tongue against the tender underside,
feeling him grow even harder in my mouth. With slow, deliberate motions, I move
my lips further and further down his shaft. He’s far too huge for me to take at
once, so I take my sweet time. I close my eyes, savoring the taste of him.
Daringly, I let one hand loose and cup his hard, bulging balls. He’s bucking
against me, begging me to take more of him. I happily oblige, running my tongue
all around his thick shaft as I work what I can’t fit with my hand. I have as
much of him as I can take between my hands and my mouth, and I bear down—giving
him everything that I have.

The sharp taste of cum skirts across my tongue. I want to
feel him fill me up this way, to taste him as he gushes in bliss and ecstasy. I
close my lips hard around his member and suck and firmly as I can, I run my
hand down his shaft and close my fingers around his balls. I feel him pulse
against my tongue, his fingers tight in my hair, and the taste of him floods my
mouth. He comes hard, spilling himself against my rapturous tongue. I swallow
him down, relishing the warmth that rushes down my throat. I keep working my
lips up and down his tender flesh, taking every last drop that he’s given me.

Resting my hands against his muscular thighs, I finally lift
my mouth from him. I glance up into the hot spray of the shower and see him
peering down at me, his eyes wide with wonder. I lick a trickle of his cum from
my cheek before the shower can wash it away, and the sight of it very nearly
causes him to give me an encore. He offers his hands to me and pulls me to
standing, a relaxed and baffled grin is painted across his face. I give him a
happy kiss on the cheek and reach for the shampoo.

“More than twenty minutes, huh?” I smile.

“You win,” he says, holding up his hands.

“No, sir,” I say, “You’re the winner, here.”

We laugh together, hastily scrubbing down. Though I’ve only
known Slade for a few days, this feels like the most natural thing in the
world. It’s so easy to be around him, it feels like we’re just an ordinary
couple. I let my daydreams wander through scenarios of what it would actually be
like to have a normal life with Slade. If he led a regular life, I could see us
going through all the stages of courtship, getting married, maybe even having a
kid or two someday. It would be wonderful, going through all of that with him
by my side.

But Slade’s life is not a normal one. He’s playing the
smitten suitor now, and I really believe that he means it, but that doesn’t
make our relationship any more plausible. I’ve built a life for myself here,
all on my own. I’ve got a fantastic job, a couple of good friends, my family,
and my cat. And he’s most certainly got a great thing going on for himself,
too. He’s a rock star, for god’s sake. It’s not like I’m going to ask him to
settle down. I love the fact that he leads a glamorous, exciting life. I’m thrilled
that he was able to cobble together a whole world for himself after his father
died, rise to stardom, and win the day. But that doesn’t mean that I’m ready to
give up everything I’ve worked for to be his groupie.

My face falls as I realize that, as nice as this is, as
comfortable as we feel together now, I still can’t be sure that this is the
real Slade Hale. Why is this version of him any more real than the thrashing,
powerful man I saw on stage? Or the womanizer who gets a kick out of sleeping
with girls on the road?

“Are you OK?” he asks, looking down through the stream with
concern.

“What?” I say, wrapped up in my own thoughts. “Oh, yeah!
Sure. Totally. Sorry, I just spaced out for a second.”

“Your forehead is all bunched up,” he says, smoothing my
brow with his hands. “What’s going on?”

“Just thinking about work,” I lie, “I’ve really got to get
there on time today. I’m already going to be functioning on just about zero
sleep.”

“Yeah,” Slade says, “I understand. Let’s get you ready to
go, then.”

A pang of annoyance shoots through me. “I can get myself
ready perfectly well, thanks.”

Slade raises an eyebrow at me. “I didn’t mean to suggest
that you couldn’t.”

“Good,” I say, turning off the water.

I step out of the shower and throw a towel around my body. I
know I’m being irrational, lashing out at him. But the thought that in a couple
of days, he’ll be on the road without me...It’s getting to me. I won’t ask him
to stay, but I don’t want to say goodbye. I don’t want to go on my road trip
alone while he’s out there playing sold out shows. I want to be with him, but
it’s never going to happen. I blink against stinging tears as I quickly hand
him a towel. Now it’s his forehead that’s twisted up with worry.

“Julia,” he says, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I say, clearing off a patch of fog from the
mirror, “I’m just in a hurry, is all.”

“It seems like you’re upset with me,” he says, “Did I do
something wrong?”

“Yeah,” I tell him with a laugh, “You came into my emergency
room.”

“You wish I hadn’t?” he asks, anger pulling at the edges of
his words.

“It’s not that,” I say, rubbing face cream between my hands,
“I just don’t want to say goodbye to you right after meeting you. I don’t want
to screw you for three days and watch you move onto the next town. Do you do
this everywhere you go? Have micro-relationships with the locals?”

“Of course not,” he says.

“Right,” I counter, unable to stop myself, “That’s what the
groupies are for.”

“What is this?” he asks, taking hold of my elbow. “What’s
gotten into you? We were having such a nice morning.”

“This is just so ridiculous!” I exclaim, turning to face
him, “You’re leaving. That will be the end of this, right?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he says.

“Sure it does,” I say, “I’m not spending the rest of my life
in the wings.”

“I’d never ask you to,” he says, “I fell for you because
you’re your own person. You’re strong, and capable, and real pain in the ass
sometimes but I like that. I don’t want you to drop everything for me. And the
fact that you’d think I would...? That’s just low, Julia. I would never jump to
those kinds of conclusions about you.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, “I just don’t want you to wander
out of my life the second your bus leaves for New York.”

“Don’t worry about that now,” he says, “Just be in the
moment with me. It may be all we have.”

“OK,” I tell him, “I’ll try.”

“I’ll see you after the show tonight,” he tells me, “I’ll be
waiting on your doorstep like I was the first night. And that will be the only
place I want to be. Can you believe me?”

“Yes,” I tell him, resting my hands on his waist, “Of
course, Slade.”

He kisses me hard on the mouth and pulls away. “I’ll see you
tonight.” In a heartbeat, he throws his clothes back on his body and heads for
the door. He flashes me one last smile and disappears. I hear the front door
slam behind him, and look around at my place. I know that it will never be the
same again. My bed will never forget that Slade once lay there. I swallow down
another wave of tears, and finish getting ready. My heart may be breaking, but
I still have a job to do, and that comes first.

I pull on my scrubs, the ones that my dad bought me when I
graduated nursing school. I wonder what my parents would think, if they could
see what I had been up to the last couple of days. Would they be glad that I
was having a little fun, or mortified by my behavior? They’re so proud of what
I’ve been able to accomplish in life so far, I don’t want to give them any
reason to question that pride. I’m sure that my dad would have some choice
words for Slade if they ever met, not like that was likely.

My hair is still damp as I pull it into a tight bun. The
skin around my eyes is pulled tight, giving me a severe, professional look. I’m
mystified that Slade even noticed me while he was in the ER. I was nothing like
the girls he was used to—girls like Helena. How long would he stay interested
in me, if I decided to stay in touch with him? If I paid him a surprise visit
on tour, would I find him wrapped up in the arms of some skinny blonde, instead
of waiting to see me again? I wish I could say I didn’t doubt him, but I barely
even know him. How can I trust someone like him?

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