The Song in My Heart (19 page)

Sloane shook her head, her blue eyes stormy. “It could be that simple if you’d let it. Can’t you let yourself be happy for once without fearing the bottom’s going to fall out?”

“Oh, Sloane.”

“Don’t ‘oh, Sloane’ me. I’m serious. Why won’t you let yourself be happy?”

It was a good question, but her answers were good too. She thought of trying to evade the question, but Sloane was a pit bull. “I told you a long time ago I was never going to get into a relationship with anybody in the music business again, and I meant it.”

“Oh, come on, Dayna’s a snake. There’s lots of people in this business who are nothing like Dayna. And on the flip side, there are a lot of snakes out there who
aren’t
in the business.”

“True, but there’s so much pressure in this business, so many distractions. It’s a completely unconventional and difficult way of trying to maintain a relationship. It’s almost impossible. And Erika is on the way up, you know that. You knew that before I did. She’s going places, and I’m not. The only place I want to go when this little tour is done is home.”

Sloane sipped her black coffee before she spoke again. “I’m hearing a lot of reasons you’ve rationalized in your head. A lot of after-the-fact reasons.”

Their conversations were often like this, Sloane throwing out little barbs that required Dess to dig deeper. “What do you mean ‘after-the-fact reasons’?”

“See, here’s how I see it.”

Oh Lord
, Dess thought.

“You started caring for Erika a while back. Started feeling attracted to her too. Any dummy could have seen that. You two were like two freight trains on the same track, headed straight for each other.”

Dess silently laughed at the metaphor. Sloane wasn’t book smart, wasn’t sophisticated, but she was one of the sharpest, wisest people Dess knew.

“You had great sex,” Sloane continued. “Hot, I’m-ruined-for-anybody-else sex. The kind of sex that—”

“All right, all right. I get the picture.”

Sloane grinned. She loved sex and thought everybody should be getting hot sex. As much as humanly possible. “But a funny thing happened on the way to all that great sex.”

She knew Sloane wouldn’t continue until she asked, “What’s that?”

“You fell in love, Dess. L-O-V-E. That’s the part that scares the shit out of you. And that’s when you started rationalizing why it could never work between you two. It’s your little shield, so you won’t get hurt.”

Heat rose to her cheeks again, but for a different reason this time. Sloane was wrong. She wasn’t rationalizing as some kind of defense mechanism. All of her reasons were true, and she had to be careful. Not just with her heart, but with her money too. There were tons of people out there who would be quick to use her. Not Erika, but others for sure. She was being prudent. Yes, that was it.

“I’m being prudent,” she said, jutting her chin out defiantly. “I’m taking my time with this, that’s all.”

Sloane stood up, drained her cup and set it on the counter. “You’re right. Careful is good. And even though that girl is madly in love with you, you should keep using her for all that great booty for as long as you can. Hell, that’s what I’d do. Get laid as much as possible. Three, four times a day, matter of fact. And when the tour’s done, you can go back to Chicago and to your guitars and your books and your dog. That sounds like a spectacular plan.”

Sloane marched out, and Dess wanted to chase her down and beat her.

* * *

“Are you sure Sloane’s not going to walk into the apartment any minute and hear us
in flagrante delicto
?” Part of Erika hoped Sloane would do exactly that. She wanted the world to know that she loved Dess, that they were in a relationship and that they shared a fantastic time in bed. If she could shout it from the rooftops, she would.

Dess stripped off the last of her clothes and crawled into bed next to Erika. “She said not to expect her back tonight, that she has plans to get lucky at that gay dance club you tried to take me to the other night.”

Erika slid a hand up and down Dess’s thigh. “I can’t help it if I want to dance dirty with you. And for wanting everybody to see me dirty dance with the hottest woman around.”

Dess frowned. “You mean hot for a washed-up, forty-one-year-old cancer survivor?”

“No.” Erika kissed her neck, the hard points of her collarbone. “I mean the hottest woman in the city. In the state. In the whole wide world.” She kissed the tender flesh of Dess’s throat. “And you’re not washed up. Far from it. You’re the woman I love, and I’d want you whether you’re a cancer survivor or just a plain old survivor like the rest of us.”
We all have battle scars
, Erika thought,
and we’re all survivors of something or other
.

“Fine. But I’m still a cougar, dating you.”

Erika grinned, loving the idea of being with an older woman. The difference in their ages didn’t bother her in the least. If anything, it was a turn-on. There was an inner and outer beauty about Dess that came with life’s experiences, and she had the kind of poise and wisdom seldom possessed by women under thirty. As for the sex, Dess simply couldn’t be matched in her sensuality. She was a woman who, once she trusted and let herself go, knew exactly what she wanted in bed. And knew how to give as good as she got.

“Sweetheart, I love that you’re older than me. In fact, I’d even love you if you were seventy.”

Dess giggled. “Now that’s a bit extreme. You’re very funny.”

“Not funny at all.” Erika held her with her eyes. “I mean every word.”
God, I would give you the world, Dess.
All you’d have to do is ask
.

Dess quickly closed up, shutting down as usual once the conversation turned serious. She was good at changing the subject, at dialing things back between them when talk turned to love or a future. Well, Erika had at least one surefire way to make Dess open up and let her in.

She kissed Dess on the mouth, her tongue parting Dess’s lips and slipping inside even as her hand dove between Dess’s legs. Dess moaned as Erika palmed her, dancing her fingers around her slick opening, teasing, circling, rubbing, pushing inside a fraction of an inch before retreating again. It drove Dess nuts. She groaned and moved her hips in a hungry demand for Erika to enter her, but Erika resisted. “I want to fuck you,” she told Dess. “I want to fuck you with my mouth. I want to suck your clit, I want my tongue inside you. Would you like that, baby? Would you like me to fuck you with my mouth?”

“Oh my God,” Dess groaned, her breath coming short and hard. “Oh yes, yes, please.”

“Please what?” Erika moved her hand harder, faster.

“Please…fuck me…with…your mouth.”

Erika sucked the soft skin of Dess’s throat on her way down, stopping briefly at her breasts, her stomach, to suck the quivering flesh. With abandon, she took Dess’s clit into her mouth and sucked it, thrusting her fingers inside her, possessing her. She tongued Dess’s clit frenetically, her fingers matching the rhythm. Harder, she mashed her face and fingers into Dess until Dess screamed her name, her body bucking in a wild orgasm that seemed to go on for several minutes. Erika held her tightly, wanting nothing more than to go at it again. She couldn’t get enough of pleasuring Dess, of enjoying her body.

Dess had stilled beside her. She was staring up at the dark ceiling.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Erika whispered. She hated when Dess blanked out on her emotionally.

“What makes you think anything’s wrong?”

“I know you, Dess. And I can tell when something’s on your mind.”

Dess smiled benignly. “There’s almost always something on my mind, don’t you know that? Especially after you’ve made me come like that.”

Erika studied her. She knew the unspoken things that roiled in Dess’s mind. “Well,” she finally said in a voice she hoped was full of understanding. “Those things that are on your mind, that give you pause? It’s okay, you know. I know you have good reasons to…pause. And I’m not worried. And I want you to take as much time as you need to explore your feelings, and I want you to not be afraid to ask anything of me that you might need. Okay?”

“You’re the most special woman I’ve ever known,” Dess said, staring at her with eyes that to Erika were maddeningly full of love, love that she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge. To believe.

Erika snuggled closer. “Thank you for saying that. But I’d really rather you showed me.”

“Oh, I’ll show you, all right.” Dess rolled on top of her, pushing a thigh between her legs. “I’m going to show you right now.”

Chapter Seventeen

It was time to get back to work, something Dess viewed as a godsend. She even welcomed the mundane ride along the interstate towing their “home” behind them as they made their way to another festival. This time it was Madison, Wisconsin—a day’s drive from Minneapolis.

Getting back to work meant getting back to predictable footing for Dess. It meant less time to question her every action, her every thought, where Erika was concerned. She was tired of the inordinate amount of introspection of the last few days. Was exhausted from asking herself exactly how much she cared for Erika, if she needed her as much as she feared, if the little skips her heart made meant she was in love with her.

There were so many good reasons why being in love with Erika was not a good idea, Dess thought, even as she reminded herself that love transcended reason and logical deduction. That was the thing about love, she thought with frustration. The good part was that it made you lose your mind. But that was also the bad part.

With schedules, practice sessions and performances lined up for almost every waking moment while they were in Madison, there would be new distance between them—a solid obstacle to their cocoon of intimacy. They’d even agreed, for Sloane’s sake, not to share the double bed in the trailer and to keep the sleeping arrangements as they had been. Erika was displeased, but to Dess, the space was another chance to give her some perspective on Erika and on where their relationship was heading.

The word “relationship” burned at the back of her throat. It was such a foreign concept to her. She lazily wrapped an arm around Maggie, with whom she was sharing the back seat of the truck while Sloane and Erika sat up front singing along to a pop song on the radio. Dess had sworn after Dayna and after her horrifying battle with cancer that she wouldn’t get involved with anyone again. It wasn’t worth the possibility of waking up one day and discovering that your partner had lied when she said she loved you. Had lied when she said she was in it for the long haul. Dess would never allow herself to be that vulnerable, that trusting, again. She could rely on herself, on family, on Sloane and even on Maggie. But that was it.

Oh God
, Dess thought helplessly.
I don’t want to hurt you, Erika, but I don’t know what to do
. She was afraid of her feelings for Erika, of how deep they ran. She didn’t want to be in love with a woman so much younger, who still had her whole career in front of her and who stood on the verge of greatness. Most of all, she didn’t want to be in love with a woman who was going to leave her one day. Oh, Erika could swear up and down that she would never do that to Dess. But someone with all that talent and all that drive—well, there was no denying she was on the move. She eventually would want to spread her wings and fly. Dess couldn’t blame her. And she sure as hell didn’t want to stop her. She couldn’t, even if she tried.

She caught Erika looking questioningly at her through the mirror on the back of the visor, and Dess winked to give her a small measure of reassurance. Erika was a real gem, a real keeper under any other circumstances. It was clear that Erika was in love with her, was devoted to her. And Erika could certainly turn her on like no one else. With their raging passion, it was so hard to keep their relationship—or whatever it was—from running away on them. When they were alone together, Dess couldn’t restrain herself from ravaging—and being ravaged by—Erika. She closed her eyes for the rest of the journey and envisioned them making love outside, in a field beneath a tree. She loved Erika’s breasts, the way they felt beneath her fingertips, the fullness of them in her hands. Firm and soft at the same time, lusciously round and supple. So incredibly responsive. Smiling, she fell asleep for the rest of the journey.

Setting up camp took an hour. After that, they puttered with lighting the fussy little charcoal barbecue Erika had picked up in Minneapolis because, she told them, she was sick of fast food. The grilled chicken breasts and salad were a definite improvement, and Dess gave Erika two thumbs up. After cleaning the dishes and feeding Maggie, Erika insisted on joining her and Maggie for a walk around the camp while Sloane set off to chat with the festival’s organizers.

“Am I right,” Erika said, “that you seem to be enjoying the stage again?”

“You mean I don’t look like I’m going to crap my pants anymore?”

“You never looked like that.” Erika reached for her hand, and Dess gave it to her, intertwining their fingers. “But you look more relaxed lately on stage. Happy to be there.”

“I am. Playing to these smaller crowds is way more gratifying in most ways than playing to packed stadiums. I’d forgotten what it’s like to be able to pick out individual faces, how you can feel each person’s energy and enjoyment. And how you know right away if they like—or don’t like—something. The connection is more intimate, more immediate.” She smiled. “It’s a lot more fun than I expected. Or remembered.”

They waited for Maggie to sniff near a tree, then to chew on a couple of shoots of grass. “But what about you?” Dess asked. “Is the tour better than you thought? Different?”

“Oh, it’s
much
better. And way different than I expected.” Erika slipped her a wink, launching an immediate tingle in Dess’s center. At the smallest gesture or tiniest hint of their bedroom life, a cascade of pleasurable memories zoomed through Dess’s mind, setting her nerve endings on fire.

She took a steadying breath. “Seriously. I mean, is there anything you think we could improve upon or change?” She laughed lightly. “On stage, I mean.”