The Song Remains the Same (8 page)

Kenna was trying to distract herself probably ’cause my morning wood was pushing into her belly. I could feel it in her—the need to feel me, make sure I was hers. I was feeling it, too. Reaching down, I took her hand and brought it to my lips, kissing her palm, without breaking eye contact. Those emerald windows opened just a little bit into the soul she had been recently guarding against me. Taking her hand, I put it on my heart.

Then, I slid it down the front of me and wrapped it around my dick.

“I’m yours,” I told her. “Only yours. You own me.”

Kenna’s eyes went liquid, kicking me in the chest
.

Maybe I felt her wrong?

Perhaps she didn’t want to touch me after all.

“Please…” she said, her bottom lip starting to quiver.

Oh God.
It wasn’t that.

She wanted me to touch her, too.

My Baby Girl was hot and slick, so soft, as my fingers slipped between her legs. I found her clit hard and pulsing, and I worked slow, gentle circles around it as she stroked me. Our eyes never left each other’s. I watched as her cheeks flushed roses, her lips parting to let her breath escape.

“I love you,” I told her, desperate for her to know it, to feel it.

“I love you, too,” she replied, reading my lips.

Closing her eyes, tears leaked out from beneath her lashes, and she bit her lip.

Fuck me
.

She was magnificent. Just fuckin’
perfect.

“I’m coming…” she breathed.

My hand slid down, and I pushed my middle finger into her, groaning like a beast when I felt how wet she was. My dick twitched hard in her hand. It wanted in like a motherfucker.

No. Not until we know…

She gripped my finger and pulsed around it as I ground the heel of my hand against her clit. Gasping and whimpering, she came undone.

I came undone.

I buried my face in her neck and let out the most satisfied, hellish groan.

“I love you, Kenna Baby,” I said against her skin before kissing gently. “I’ll never leave you. I’m with you always, always…”

Waiting sucked. It all sort of compounded in me as I sat down by my lonesome while Kenna went for her scan.

When we’d come in, the doctor—the same one who had seen her when she was brought in that day, Dr. Linda Norimatsu—had decided that Kenna should have a CT scan, so organ damage could be better identified. Kenna had agreed. All I’d heard was
radiation
. That shit wasn’t good, but Kenna had said she’d hardly ever had any X-rays, and it wouldn’t hurt her in the long run. A CT scan would show what was going on in her ears better, and she really wanted to know what was up with that.

Dr. Norimatsu had given her a general checkup, taken some blood, injected her with some sort of dye, and made her get into a hospital gown. She’d gotten to keep her skivvies on, which had made me happy.

I had been given the boot to the waiting room.

As I’d been gearing up to make a huge stink, Kenna had taken my hand and smiled. “I’ll be fine. These things don’t take so long.”

I promised I wouldn’t leave you!

Dr. Norimatsu had nodded in agreement. “It’s quick, and we have the best machines. I have a radiologist who is here only to read her results, so you will have them today.”

“How long do the results usually take?” I’d asked with no clue as to what a radiologist was.

“Normally, a day or two. But I called in a favor for Dr. MacGregor, seeing as Kenna hasn’t gotten any hearing restored as of yet, and we love her here. From what I could see, her eardrums are healing nicely, but she should have gotten something back by now.”

Oh God, what the fuck does that mean?

So, I was sitting my massive ass in the waiting room. A couple of kids were staring at me, so I glared back at them. One chick kept checking me out. I’d bust her staring at me every time I looked up. She was cute, rocking that neck brace she had going on. It gave her a double chin.

My iPods were in my pockets, so I pulled one out and popped the buds in my ears.
Led Zeppelin III
sounded good, and I cranked that shit up, dropped my head back against the wall, and closed my eyes. When Kenna’s favorite song “Friends” came on, it made me smile, picturing her doing her sexy little hippie dance, hair swinging with the beat.

Halfway through “Celebration Day,” I got a light tap on my shoulder. Raising my head, I opened my eyes to see Neck Brace. I took out an earbud.

“Hi,” she said shyly.

“Hello,” I replied.

“Um, I was wondering…”

“What?”

She blushed to the roots of her light-brown hair. “Are you the singer for NOLA’s Junk?”

That surprised me, and it must’ve shown on my face because she went even redder. She didn’t look the type, I guessed.

“Yeah. Phil,” I said, holding out my hand to shake hers.

She got a bit woozy-looking when she took it.

“You look a bit ill. You wanna sit?” I said, indicating the empty seat next to me.

She plopped down and took a shaky breath. “Thanks. I was so nervous.”

That made me laugh. “Why?”

She just gave me a weird look. “You’re
famous.”

“Naw, I wouldn’t say that. Just well known in certain circles. You a fan?”

“Yeah. My favorite album from you guys is
Moniker Mayhem
. A lot less dark than
Addicted Masochist.
”

Nodding my head, I smiled. “Yeah, it was a different vibe for us then. We were havin’ some good fun durin’
Moniker.
”

“Um…I don’t know if it’s appropriate to be asking this in the waiting room of a hospital, but could I have your autograph?”

“Yeah, sure. But only if I can sign your brace.”

She grinned, showing a little gap between her two front teeth. “Even better.”

Searching my pockets, I found one of my markers. They were for marking up my writing, like mistakes and shit I wanna change around. I didn’t go around, hoping that people would ask me for my autograph.

I whipped out the red one. “What happened to you?” I asked.

“I was hit by a drunk driver and got a hairline fracture in my C3 vertebrae.”

“No shit. Is the guy in jail?”

“He died in the crash.”

“Fuck. That’s some hairy shit right there. How long ago?”

“Four and a half weeks. The whiplash was what did it. I couldn’t move for a while.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

“Can I ask why you’re here?”

“Waitin’ for my fiancée. She’s gettin’ a CT scan. She was in the bomb blast a few weeks ago.”

“Wow. That was awful. I saw it on the news. Only two people survived.”

I nodded. “Yeah, she was one of ’em.”

“What are they checking for?”

“Internal injuries that might not have shown up early on. She should be fine. She’s healin’ up real nice, except she hasn’t gotten her hearin’ back yet.”

“I’m sorry. Is she a fan of your music?”

Grinning, I replied, “Yeah. She’s our number one fan, hands down. It’s been rough. She’s a huge music freak. Grew up listenin’ to the classics. Her brother is in the band now.”

“I read an article that you guys got a fifth member. I think it was an interview with Jason Jones. The new guy plays rhythm guitar, right?”

“Yes and no. He’s way too talented to just do rhythm. He’s a musical genius. Connor’s his name.”

“Nice guy?”

“One of the best.” I waved the marker. “What’s your name, Neck Brace?”

“Samantha. Sam’s fine.”

“Sam, hold still, so I don’t fuck this up, yeah?”

She stiffened like a board and pointed her eyes up at the ceiling.

“
Neck Brace Sam
,” I read aloud as I wrote. It wasn’t like she could read it herself at the moment. “
Thanks for lifting my spirits and talking about music! Best of luck, Phil Deveraux
.”

“Cool!” she piped, cracking me up.

Capping the marker, I shoved it back in my pocket just as Kenna walked into the room. She smiled brightly and gave me a thumbs-up.

“That’s my Baby Girl, Sam. I gotta go. You get better fast, all right?”

“Thanks! I hope the same for your Baby Girl.”

A light pat on her shoulder, and I was on my feet and taking Kenna’s hand.

“Dr. Norimatsu said to come back by two, and we’ll have the results,” she told me as we walked out, her voice a little too loud. “I’m fucking starving!”

Several people looked in our direction in disgust over Kenna’s language, making me laugh. I pulled her back to stop her, and she looked at me. I held my finger to my lips.

“Oh!” she whispered, blushing. “Sorry!”

Unable to help myself, I kissed her in the middle of the corridor, not giving a fuck if we bothered anyone. I didn’t use tongue or anything, but I kissed her a couple of times until her cheeks were glowing.

Then, I took her out to lunch.

Dr. Norimatsu had us take a seat in front of her desk, and I got the worst feeling.

What if there’s something seriously wrong?
Or her hearing is permanently damaged?

She’d be heartbroken if she could never hear music again.

Then, Dr. Norimatsu smiled. The knot around my lungs eased, and I could breathe again. She handed Kenna the file with the scan results, and Kenna silently read them to herself.

Dr. Norimatsu took pity on me. “She’s perfectly fine, Mr. Deveraux. No organ damage, and her hearing should come back. She mentioned she still has tinnitus, but it’s not excessive in volume. It is possible that she won’t recover her hearing one hundred percent, but she won’t be deaf forever. Hopefully, the tinnitus will be gone in a few more weeks.”

“Okay,” I said, exhaling loudly.

Next to me, Kenna was watching Dr. Norimatsu, trying to read her lips. Dr. Norimatsu smiled and gave her a thumbs-up, and my Baby Girl’s face filled with excitement.

That little shit turned her face to me, and at the top of her lungs, she said, “We can have sex again!”

My jaw dropped, my face going fuckin’ tomato.

Kenna pointed at me and laughed. “I could fry an egg on that!”

Dr. Norimatsu fuckin’ lost it, too.

The truck was parked in the hospital garage, and the second my ass slid behind the wheel, Kenna jumped me. She wrapped her arms around my neck, grinding her heat into me. Her delicious little mouth was on mine, pushing her tongue past my lips.

“I want you so bad,” she said, breathless. “I need to feel you, babe. I need you inside me.”

Oh, hells fuck yes!

My hands held her ass and squeezed, pulling her into me. We made out and dry-humped in the hot truck for a few minutes until she went for my fly.

“No, Baby, not like this,” I groaned, grabbing her hands.

The look she gave me nearly broke my heart.

“Home,” I said slowly. “Not here. I want you, too.
Bad.
”

For fuck’s sake, she
had
to feel that. I was close to busting a nut in my pants.

Nodding her head, she slid off my lap and sat in bitch. Firing up the truck, I peeled out of the garage a little too fast. Once past the gate, I took her hand and put it on my groin. Little shit, she totally smirked and squeezed.