Tudor Redemption (Tudor Dynasty Book 4) (24 page)

“Dame, what is this? It’s beautiful.”

“You said no engagement ring. No diamond.
I wanted to do something, to give you something special to remember this day
by. You can wear this ring anyway you wish.”

She stared down at her hand, then at me. “Thank
you,” she whispered. “I’m afraid I have nothing for you. I haven’t had the time
with all this running around to think.”

“You married me. That is all I need. All I’ll
ever need.”

She leaned over and kissed me. I could
smell the faint scent of her perfume, her shampoo, and sex. The combination
drove me crazy. I wanted more, but it was later than I thought.

“I suppose we ought to get ready.”

“Yes, we must. Big things tonight. I’m
going to grab a shower. I’d invite you to join me, but I’m afraid we’d find
ourselves distracted.”

“You think?” I quipped.

“Pervert!”

“What is it with you women and that word?”

“What word?” She giggled.

“Beth...”

“Mmmm, yes,” she whispered breathlessly.

“Go. Take your shower, or I’ll not be
responsible for what happens in the next thirty seconds.”

“Oh.”

Chapter Twenty

Through the faceless halls I walked.
Following Red, I held Beth’s hand as we made the seemingly long trek to the
stage. It was quiet except for the buzz of the crowd on the other side of the
walls as we neared. Every now and then, I felt Beth squeeze my hand.

I’d requested that I wanted no one
backstage pre-show. All the extras, the food, drink, the endless stream of well-wishers.
Friends, family, acquaintances. I wanted none of it this time. This was a
monumental step in not only my career, but my life. I’d never done anything
without my band or my brothers. This time, it was pure Damien Tudor. This was
my redemption.

The band, a group of musicians hand chosen
by Amadeus and me, were already on stage revving up the crowd. They were studio
musicians, performers, all seasoned and trusted friends and colleagues. They
understood what I had on the line tonight, and if as successful as everyone
anticipated, that it could mean further work for them.

I stood in the wings with Beth by my side.
The adrenaline was already coursing through my body. That rush, that high that
can only be felt by being where I was about to be in mere seconds. In front of
a crowd. A mass of people who’d paid to see me this one night, performing brand
new songs, written by me, heard by few.

Hearing the change in the music, my cue, I
turned to Beth. I gathered her in my arms and kissed her hard and with passion.
She looked a little shell shocked as I pulled away. She told me she loved me
and wished me luck. I grinned at her and sauntered onto the stage.

Grabbing my guitar from a roadie, I made
my way to the mic. Though I’d done this thousands of times before, this was
different. I put my hand over my forehead to block some of the glare of the
spots and peered out at the crowd.

“Seattle, are you ready to rock n’ roll?”
I bellowed, readying my guitar as the crowd roared.

With that, I launched into “Heartless,”
one of the tracks on my new album. The crowd went wild. It continued with every
new song that followed. Despite what Beth, Amadeus, and others said, I was not
playing a single song from my long ago career with Rypp Tyde. It wasn’t that I
wasn’t indebted to that time in my life. This was a new page. That, and I wasn’t
about to give the Julia train any fuel to make up stories.

As the show neared an end, I had one trick
in my pocket. It was one my brother-in-law Daniel Kennedy had used, and the crowds
loved it.

I walked to the wings where Beth was
standing, grinned, and took her by the hand to center stage. I didn’t give her
an opportunity to back out. Fortunately, she didn’t balk. I led her to two
stools that had been placed there. Helping her onto one, I sat to her left,
adjusted my mic and guitar. Taking her hand, I lifted it to my mouth and kissed
the back of it. The crowd went wild.

“Today is a very special day for me. Not
only is my album out and doing amazing things, ripping up the charts, today is
also special in a very personal way. This morning, this woman, Beth, became my
wife. This next song is one I wrote for her. For us.”

I then launched into “Lost to Me No More.”
For the next five minutes, the crowd was relatively quiet as concert goers go.
Beth sat there, smiling, watching my every move.

Once I finished the song, I let the crowd
roar their approval. Beth’s eyes shone with love as I took her hand and stood
there with her center stage.

After the second encore, I high-fived with
all the band, and then grabbed Beth’s hand as we made our way back to the
dressing room. This time, I had no doubt most of my family would be there along
with a gaggle of well-wishers.

They were. My mother, who always made at
least the first performance of any one of her children’s tours, was there along
with Peter. My two lovely daughters and my son Ethan. All my siblings and their
spouses, well, excluding Angus’s. He seemed, at least on the outside, to be
having a good time. The one person I hadn’t planned on seeing was my sister
Anne. It had been several years without a word. Now, she stood in front of me.

“Where?” I asked as I hugged her.

“That’s a conversation for another time.
Tonight is about you,” she replied smiling, pushing a stray lock of honey brown
hair behind her ear.

I introduced her to Beth.

“I’m sorry you missed the wedding this
morning.”

“My plane didn’t get in until noon. Angus
picked me up, and we’ve been wide open ever since.”

“Come to the party. It’s at the hotel.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. It’s that or sit up
late and talk with mother. I think I’d rather watch you.”

Hugging her again and telling her how
wonderful it was to see her, I moved on to the next person. This day certainly
had been full of surprises.

“I suppose you knew about this?” I whispered
to Beth.

“I was sworn to silence.”

“I see you’ve been drawn to the dark side,
and so quickly.”

“It was an easy choice,” she replied,
smiling.

A small after-party at the hotel had been
put together. The hotel had arranged a private room for it. It was strictly by
invitation only. I knew it would cause a headache for security, but they knew
it was one of the necessary evils of this business. Everyone wanted something,
wanted to feel special, wanted to feel as though they were part of the action.

Before joining the festivities, I made a
dash upstairs to our suite for a shower and a few minutes of quiet reflection.
Not wanting Beth too far, I drug her along.

A while later, we entered the madness of
the party. People were coming up and congratulating me. Either on the early
success of the album, or for Beth’s and my marriage. She had chosen to sit with
Zara, Mary, and Anne and watch, while the male side of the family mingled with
guests. The girls and Ethan were standing with a small group of younger guests
chatting. It was all still surreal.

Finally, it was time to end the evening.
It was our wedding night after all. I had plans, you know?

Beth, however, had even thought this
detail out.

We were sitting on the bed naked after
taking a shower. Separate, of course. I had opened a bottle of champagne
conveniently placed nearby in one of those fancy ice buckets. I poured two
glasses, with the intention of handing her one and the two of us sharing a
private toast. Corny, I know, but this woman was my forever soul mate.

Instead, she crawled up on the mattress
and pushed me until I was on my back. Then, she started planting kisses over my
face, jaw, and down my neck. Her lips burned a trail of kisses down my chest
and stomach.

She took my stiff cock in one hand and pumped
slowly. “Bethie...” I watched her as she wet her lips and opened her mouth. She
slid me in, taking my entire length, sucked hard then pulled back slowly. And
again. “Fuck, babe...”

Beth increased the suction as she pumped
me with her hand. Fuck me. She swirled her tongue around before taking me all
the way. I was close to losing it. Her hands were both under my ass, urging me.
I moved my hips.

“Babe, I can’t stop if you...” She didn’t stop,
in fact, she kept teasing me. It was then our eyes locked, and I filled her
mouth as she swallowed it all.

We just lay there. I felt like rubber.
Somehow, I managed to pull her up and kiss her. My hand slid over her breasts
and down between her legs. She was dripping wet, just from giving me a blow
job. Damn. I inserted my fingers inside her, and she closed around them. It was
then I felt her hands cupping my balls, stroking my cock.

I rolled her over, covering her with my
body. I needed her. Slowly, I pushed inside to the hilt, my balls against her
opening. She felt unbelievable. My wife.

I set a rhythm, teasing her by pulling
almost all the way out then plunging in again. Sex with Beth was rarely slow or
sweet. It was wild and hot.

Her legs surrounded my waist, her arms
around my neck, and her cunt, well, it had my cock tight. I needed to be
deeper. Her hips moved with mine, back and forth in unison.

“Dame...”

“What, babe? Tell me what you need...”

“Don’t stop...”

“Never.”

When she came, she tightened around me.
Then, I followed. It was indescribable.

Our bodies still, the only sounds were our
breathing and heartbeats.

I was so in love with this woman. I’d do
anything for her.

She owns me completely.

“Dame?” She kissed me softly on the cheek.
“I love you, husband.”

“I love you. My Bethie.”

Several hours later, and a few more
orgasms, we were fast asleep. Side by side.

There’s something to be said about being
older on your wedding night.

The next morning, I awoke to my wife
snuggling next to me. I drew her close to me. We’d barely slept for all the
sex. That was okay, as I made love to her slowly. Things were heating up with
the new CD. Best enjoy every second of her while we still had a private life.

We also awoke to the news that Beth’s song,
as it was now being called, was sitting at number one along with the album. The
second, original single was at number three. Not bad for a guy who, not so many
years ago, had been told not to expect to perform again, much less write hit
songs. Not bad at all.

After all, it was my redemption.

Four
Months Later

The
Grammy Awards - Los Angeles

Beth sat next to me in the crowded
auditorium. She looked absolutely stunning in the hot red dress by some
designer I couldn’t name. I had reluctantly agreed to a dark suit, but ditched
the tie. I was perhaps more nervous than I had ever been in my entire life.

We’d done the whole red carpet deal.
Having our picture taken, together and separate. Answering media questions
about how I felt, did I think I had a chance. One of the necessary evils of
fame.

I was nominated for four important awards.
Not that any of them weren’t important. Producer of the year, which Amadeus was
in with me. Songwriter of the year, song and album of the year, were my solo
nominees. Competition was stiff, especially on the album category.

The producer of the year went to some loud
mouth fella who thought he was better than anyone, not only in his category,
but the entire program. He made no bones about keeping his feelings on the
matter to himself either. Amadeus and I smiled between ourselves, knowing there’d
be backlash later. We knew we were good, just getting a nomination was thanks
enough. This guy, well, he was something else.

We were seated close enough, should I win,
the walk wouldn’t be so far. Amadeus and Zara were next to us. Some of the
other family members were elsewhere.

Songwriter of the year came up, and I
froze. I hadn’t heard that correctly, had I? I vaguely felt Beth’s hand on mine
and Amadeus whistling or something. I leaned over and kissed Beth before I
stood up and made my way to the stage. Before I left, Amadeus grinned and shook
my hand.

“You can thank me later,” he crowed.
Without his subtle pushing, Beth’s song would have remained just another song
on the album.

I quickly walked up the steps and accepted
the statue from the announcer. I was so unprepared for this. Or so I thought.

“This is a little bit surreal. Thank you.
If it hadn’t been for my brother Amadeus’s decision to release this song
simultaneously with the first, I wouldn’t be standing here right now. I just
want to dedicate this to both my brother and my wife, Beth, as this song is
about her.”

That was that. I was escorted backstage to
the press area for photos and quick interviews. I was returned to my seat where
I shook the hands of people I didn’t even know before surrendering my statue to
Beth.

Song of the year. Same thing.

It was right before album of the year when
things got interesting. There was a performance slot. I was performing the
other single off the album. It was upbeat, and Ethan was joining me. He hadn’t
been nominated for anything this year, but he was ultra-popular.

I’d changed clothes, as had he. Both of us
wearing black leather pants, vests, and boots. We’d been here for rehearsals
the day before, so we had everything down.

By the end of the song, we’d brought the
house down. We were escorted just off stage. We were close enough where, if I
somehow won again, there wouldn’t be a delay in getting me to the platform. I
also knew cameras were, from time to time, focused on us.

Our brash competitor was sitting with his
posse closer to the front, looking ready to jump up. His friends were high
fiving him like it was a sure thing. I shook my head at their arrogance.

Ethan stood next to me, towel in one hand,
wiping off the sweat. Good thing that he was there with me.

My album and name were called, and Ethan
had hold of me. Not sure if he was congratulating me or holding me up. We
hugged and high-fived as I was led up on stage.

“Wow! This is mind blowing. Thank you.
When I set about making this album, I never imagined it would gain such popularity.
Going into the studio, my brother said he wanted rock n’ roll, and that’s
exactly what I delivered...”

One of the ass wipes who moments earlier
was sure the award was theirs was now making loud, rude remarks. Which I was
ignoring.

I continued as I raised the statue. “I
will make this quick. I have to thank my daughters, Brittney and Courtney, for
being so awesome, as well as all of my siblings. My mother, Grace, and
step-father, Peter MacNichol. My son, Ethan Maverick. Most of all to my wife,
Beth, who was the inspiration and muse for much of this work. Lastly, this is
for my dad, the late William Tudor, who encouraged me to live my dream.”

Turning, I walked off the stage.

This was the beginning of a new journey in
my life. No matter how hard you try, dreams don’t always come true. When they
do, they can rock your world off its foundation. I was ready to roll.

THE END

AUTHOR LINKS

FOR

JAMIE SALISBURY

Website:
 
www.jamiesalisbury.com

Facebook:
 
https://www.facebook.com/jamiesalisburyauthor

https://www.facebook.com/JamieRSalisburyAuthor

Twitter:
 
https://twitter.com/JamieRSalisbury

Email:
 
[email protected]