Pic Me

Holy shit, the guy was the spitting image of Adam Levine, right down to the smoldering gaze. Karrie stopped just inside the doorway to admire the view. Mr. Sexy was assisting a middle-aged woman who looked very much out of place in the cramped guitar showroom. While Karrie was waiting, she busied herself by looking at the staggering number of guitars covering the walls. She whistled softly in appreciation of the breathtaking instruments. Someday she'd upgrade, she promised herself.

Please hurry up! I need to get down to Beale Street to sign up for an open mic spot!

A bright pink sparkly bass caught her eye. Learning bass guitar was definitely on her bucket list.

"How can I help you, Miss?"

She spun around, startled by his sudden appearance behind her.

Those eyes...

His smile wasn't bad either, she noted. She shifted uneasily, moving her guitar case to the other hand. A tiny smile crept across her lips as she looked deep into his gorgeous light brown eyes.

"Miss? You okay?"

Karrie shook her head to pull herself back to reality. "Sorry!" She blushed, realizing just how creepy she must have looked staring at him silently. "I've been experiencing some fret buzz, so I was hoping you could take a look at her for me?" She raised her eyebrows with the upward inflection of the question.

"Absolutely." Tyler smiled as he reached for the guitar case.

Christ, he had dimples. Sexy as fuck!

As he turned to walk toward the front counter, Karrie noticed his long, wavy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Who knew a guy could get hotter than Adam Levine?

"You new to Memphis?" Tyler asked as he removed the guitar from its gig bag. "I haven't seen you around before." He strummed a few chords on the red Stratocaster, listening for the telltale buzz.

"I just moved here a couple months ago," she smiled. "I'm from a little Podunk town in central Arkansas."

"You making your way to Nashville?" he asked, as he looked down the guitar's neck to check its alignment.

"Nah, I'm a blues girl. Beale all the way!" She winced internally at the goofy cheerleader-style comment. She must have sounded sixteen to him, and that was the last thing she wanted him to think. "I'm Karrie by the way. Karrie with a 'K'."

He clasped her outstretched hand. "Hi, Karrie with a 'K', I'm Tyler with a 'T'."

Is he mocking me?

As if sensing her concern, he broke into a grin and started to laugh along with her. They were mutually aware of how corny their conversation sounded. In that moment, Karrie decided she was going to love doing business with Tyler with a 'T'.

"What's the verdict, doctor?" she teased.

"I think a few adjustments to the nut should do the trick," he said, as he touched the part in question.

I'd like to do a little work on

your

nuts, too!

Karrie blushed. "Awesome! That shouldn't take long, right?"

Tyler shrugged. "I can have her done in two to three weeks. I'm really backed up."

Karrie's jaw dropped. "That won't do! I've gotta be down on Beale Street to sign up for an open mic night in a few hours."

"I'm sorry," Tyler said as he rounded the counter. "That's the best I can do." She stuck her glossy pink lips out in a pout that gave Tyler pause. He felt himself weakening, but his backlog of work was insane. Truth was, Karrie was the prettiest girl he had seen in months, but that was mostly because he was always holed up in the backroom working while staff covered the frontend.

"Please?' She lowered her head and looked up through her eyelashes, batting them for good measure. "I'll make it worth your while..." she bribed as she glanced at the growing bulge in his jeans. She no sooner got the offer out of her mouth, when she heard her best friend's voice in her head.

"Whatever you do, don't

ever

suck off your luthier!"

But this was an emergency, Karrie decided.

Tyler was horny as fuck. He had been putting in 16-hour days for as long as he could remember. It was only now, as this beautiful busty blonde stood before him, that he realized the urgency of his needs. He reached out for her hand. "Let's go to the backroom and see if we can get you on your way to Beale."

Hand-in-hand, they made their way to the backroom, pausing just long enough to grab her guitar from the counter. As much as he wanted to take Karrie up on her offer, Tyler decided to be a gentleman. He was going to let her take the lead.

Karrie was blown away by his work area. Long wood workbenches lined the walls, each one covered with a staggering number of guitar parts and instruments in various states of assembly. "Wow! Now I understand why you needed a few weeks to get to my Strat."

"Yeah...it keeps me out of trouble though," he laughed.

"I should probably just come back another time," she said, reaching for the guitar.

"Oh no you don't! I promised you I was going to get you ready for your Beale Street performance, and I meant it."

She smiled in gratitude. "Thank you; I really appreciate it."

"I know you do," he smiled back, flashing those sexy dimples. He grabbed a small bin of tools from a table nearby, and started working on her guitar. "So, two months in Memphis so far, huh? What do you think?"

She hopped up onto a stool next to the workbench. "Not bad. Hot as hell, but then again, so was Arkansas. The scenery's sure better here though." She waited for Tyler to turn to her, and then winked.

"I've been enjoying the scenery myself. Especially today." He stopped what he was doing for a moment to study her face. Her blue eyes had a mischievous twinkle that excited him, and he longed to tuck the stray strands of hair behind her ear so he could get a better look at her face. Tyler was drawn to Karrie in a way he couldn't quite understand. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that she appeared to have no idea who he was, so their interactions were genuine.

"How long have you worked here?"

She definitely had no idea who he was. "Oh, five years, give or take."

"Nice! What's your favorite part of the job?"

Beautiful customers I want to lift onto the workbench and fuck so hard that the guitars nearly fall off the walls.

"That's a tough one. Building guitars, I guess."

"Whoa, wait,

you

build guitars? I figured that task was saved for the stuffy old guy who likely owns this place."

Tyler chuckled. If she only knew... "Nope, I get to build them. It's pretty cool. I love working with the clients to define specs, choose a finish, and all that."

"I'm impressed." She stood up and walked over to watch him work.

She looked over his shoulder, pressing her breast into his back. She was so close, he could smell the clean, fresh scent of her shampoo and the spearmint on her breath. Her mouth was tantalizingly close to his. It was all he could do to finish the job without kissing her. "Alrighty, I think she's good to go! Why don't you play a few chords to see for yourself?"

As Karrie strummed the guitar, Tyler moved behind her and pulled her close enough that the hardness of his cock settled between her ass cheeks. She moaned her approval and leaned back into him.

"How does she sound?" he whispered in her ear, making her shiver.

She put the Strat on the table in front of her, and then whirled around to face him. "You realize you're playing with fire, right?" she asked. Her voice had become low and husky with desire.

"You're a musician; of

course

I'm playing with fire." They closed the distance between them, and grabbed for one another hungrily. Their kisses reached a feverish pitch within seconds as their tongues danced and their hands explored.

Karrie pulled back, breathless and panting. She unbuckled his belt and with an end in each hand, pulled him in for a few more scorching kisses. Her fingers unzipped his jeans as whispered in his ear. "I'm going to suck you off, are you ready?"

Like he was going to say no? Before he could answer, his jeans were already bunched at his ankles. She fondled his balls and teased his cock through his silk boxers before finally pulling them down, too. She wrapped her hand around his shaft to make sure he was good and hard. Karrie could feel his cock throb in the palm of her hand. Satisfied he was ready, she got to her knees and took just the tip of him into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the head, enjoying the slightly salty taste of his pre-cum. "Holy shit," he managed breathlessly as he fell back against one of the workbenches for support. His legs quivered as she licked him and sucked him thoroughly. The way she moved her tongue around his head drove him wild. She cupped his balls and quickened her movements, gradually applying more and more pressure until he came with a shudder.

"Mmmm, thanks for the pre-performance protein shake," she teased. She hated to cut things short, but she needed to get to the club before all the open mic slots were taken. "Speaking of...I need to run. How much for the nut job?" she giggled.

"It's on me," he panted, still trying to catch his breath.

"No, I'm paying, otherwise this,' she gestured at the two of them, "becomes cheap. You know, like a transaction. I like you more than that." She pulled out her debit card as Tyler finished fastening his jeans.

He agreed reluctantly.

~ ~ ~

Karrie was positively floating after her Beale Street debut. She threw on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, curled up on her sofa, and called her best friend, Craig.

"Hey, Kare, how was Beale? I've been thinking of you all night and wondering how it went."

"Oh my God. Best. Day. Ever! So, I was having an issue with fret buzz. The timing was hideous, but I found a luthier near Beale." She knew she was babbling, but she wanted to share everything about her amazing day. "Went over there and he said he needed two to three weeks to get to it. I explained my situation, and when he still didn't budge, I sorta sweetened the pot a little."

"Karrie, what's the rule about sucking off your luthier? We've had this discussion a thousand times."

"Wow, nice of you to assume that I meant a blowjob," she laughed.

"This is me you're talking to. Go on..."

"I'll spare you the details, but let me just say, he is the hottest guy I've seen in ages. He's got a great personality, too. And boy, can he kiss!"

"Beale Street. Cut to the chase," Craig teased.

"It was frickin' amazing! The crowd was so warm and receptive. I think I'm going to try to make it a regular thing."

"Great! Congrats! So which luthier did you end up using?"

"His name was Tyler. He works out of a small shop a couple blocks off Beale. Great guy. And like I said, hot as fuck."

"Uh...how shall I put this...?"

"You've already scolded me for sucking him off; move along," she laughed.

"You just sucked off the premier luthier of bass guitars in the country. He hit the scene four or five years ago, and has built up a strong client base of famous musicians. How in the hell have you never heard of a TJ Bass?"

"Huh." Karrie finger combed her hair, a habit that started during middle school.

"That's all you have to say? This is kind of a big deal."

"I'm still processing. I never would have guessed he was famous. He's so...real."

"From what I've read, he's a great guy. He donates instruments to a camp for special needs kids, and makes generous contributions to his local humane society. He's one of the few luthiers in the US to make six figures a year, so I guess he can afford to be generous."

"Stop being so cynical, Craig. Damn...that's impressive though. Why in the hell would a guy like him bother with a girl like me? It doesn't make sense."

"For one, you're drop-dead gorgeous and have an amazing personality. I've never met anyone that doesn't like you instantly," he said. "Secondly, you offered him a blowjob. No red-blooded male turns down a blowjob from a pretty girl?"

"It's still weird." Karrie grabbed her acoustic guitar from the stand next to the sofa and began playing absently as she and Craig caught up on events in his life. A loud twang came from one of the guitar strings. "Shit!"

"What happened?"

"I broke a string."

"And let me guess," Craig began, "you don't have any replacements in your apartment."

"Correctamundo," she laughed. "Shucks, I'm going to have to hit a guitar store in the morning."

"No more sucking off the luthier!" he scolded. She could almost see him pointing at her for emphasis.

"Ah, but he's not my luthier if I'm just buying guitar strings..."

~ ~ ~

Karrie felt like a bit of a stalker. She was parked across the street from Tyler's store a good ten minutes before it opened. After a couple minutes, she saw a big shiny pickup truck come into view. Her heartrate quickened the moment she saw it was Tyler. She waved enthusiastically as he passed, and then instantly regretted it. She was acting like some love sick teen. Karrie gave him a few moments to get settled in the store before she headed across the street.

"Why hello, Karrie with a 'K'! Are you here for seconds?" he asked with a wink.

He was wearing his hair down today, and all she could think about was running her fingers through it and pulling him in for a kiss that'd make them both combust. "Are you offering?" she asked with a grin.

What the fuck just came out of my mouth?

Tyler shrugged as he readied the till. "Eh, we might be able to work something out."

Karrie's face flushed from embarrassment. She wasn't sure whether she'd rather crawl into a hole, or jump his gorgeous body.

"So, what really brings you in today?"

"Well, I broke my g-string last night, and—" Tyler's snort brought her to a screeching halt. She looked around the store frantically, trying to spot what she was looking for. "I need strings. Guitars strings, I mean."

"Right over there." Tyler pointed to the front corner of the showroom. He leaned back against the counter and tilted his head. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." Karrie pulled the desired pack of strings off the peg and made her way back to the cash register. "What is it?"

"I'm wondering what happened to that bold, confident girl I met yesterday." He folded his arms in front of him, waiting for her answer.

Maybe I'm afraid an accomplished guy like you won't want anything to do with me. Or maybe I'm afraid I'll throw caution to the wind and seduce you.

"Um, I think maybe she was a little crazy," she smiled.

"Are you saying you regret what happened?"

"God, no!" She cleared her throat, embarrassed by her over the top enthusiasm. "I mean no, of course not."

"Good." He rounded the counter the ring up her strings.

Karrie was secretly disappointed that he didn't initiate a hot little interlude. She paid for her purchase, he handed her the small paper bag, and she turned to leave.

"Wait," Tyler called after her. "Ya got a minute?"

"Of course. What's up?"

He patted the stool next to the counter. "Have a seat. I'd like to know more about Karrie with a 'K'."

"Like what?"

"Like what you do for a day job? What are your musical dreams? You know..."

"I'll tell you what. I'll tell you about Karrie if you tell me about Tyler. Deal?" she asked, sticking out her hand to shake on it. Her eyes narrowed with her broad grin.

"Deal!" he said, shaking her hand.

For the next two hours, they discussed hometowns, nutty relatives, learning and making bass guitars...everything under the sun. Karrie didn't think she could be any more attracted to him than she was in the beginning. She was wrong. He was extraordinarily unpretentious for such an accomplished artist. That increased his sex appeal a billion percent.

'Would'ja look at that," Tyler chuckled as he glanced at the clock over the front door. "You've been here a whole two hours, and there's been no funny business. Wanna correct that?" he grinned.

"You know, I'd love to, but I've got a wedding to shoot." The downside of being a wedding photographer was you could never play hooky. A "normal" job suddenly looked wildly appealing.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed."

"Oh, trust me," Karrie began, "you're not alone!" She reached for the door, and then turned around. "Hey, I'm going to be at that little club on Beale again tonight; it'd be awesome if you could pop in. I'd love having a friendly face in the audience."

Tyler nodded. "I think I can make that happen."

Karrie was beaming. "Awesome! I'll see you there!"

~ ~ ~

Karrie had been indulging in a significant amount of liquid courage at the club. What the hell was she thinking inviting Tyler? As she made her way to the backroom to tune her guitar, she spotted Tyler at a VIP table right next to the small platform stage. She was simultaneously terrified and thrilled to see him. He was hot; he was sweet; he was smart; he was talented...she needed to ask him out, and she felt just brave enough to do it tonight.

She was feeling no pain when she finally took the stage. Karrie looked Tyler in the eye and strummed a few chords tentatively. "Ladies and gentlemen," she said into the mic, "I'm going to stray a bit from my usual style tonight. This goes out to Tyler Jameson."

She strummed a few more chords until she seemed to find a chord progression she liked, and then she started to sing.

When I met you

I was crushin'

You're so hot

You got me blushin'

It was crystal clear that she had had too much to drink. As Tyler contemplated what to do, Karrie kept singing.

You fixed my guitar

A red Stratocaster

You said two weeks

I said make it faster

Tyler winced on her behalf.

When I see

Your smoldering eyes

I want to give you

A big surprise

A few chuckles echoed throughout the audience. Their minds were clearly as dirty as hers. This might have been the worst song Tyler had ever heard, but he was flattered by her gesture. She probably should have made it a private performance though.

My fluttering heart

Is Indicative of

An intense feeling

I think it's love

Tyler gulped hard and threw back a swig of whiskey.

So take me outside

To your big shiny truck

And once we are there

We'll kiss and then—"

It was like a slow-motion scene from a bad movie. Tyler jumped on stage in a single bound, grabbed her, and kissed her before she could finish the line. Within seconds, the silencing kiss deepened. The crowd cheered and clapped, spurring them on. Tyler finally thanked them with a half wave, took Karrie by the hand, and left the stage.

"Are we going to your truck?" she asked excitedly, her speech slightly slurred.

"We are, but not for the reason you think."

She stuck her lips out in a pout.

Tyler buckled her into the passenger seat of his truck, put her Strat in the backseat, and then crawled into the driver's seat. "Okay, now you're going to tell me where you live."

"We're going to my place?" she asked, perking up.

"Again, not for the reason you think we are." He sighed. "So, where do you live?"

"Cordova, Collierville, someplace that begins with a 'C'," she mumbled.

"Well, that was extraordinarily helpful," he said with a sarcastic edge. He knew his tone was a bit harsh, but she was frustrating the hell out of him. Her gesture took a lot of guts, he got that. But the fact that she was totally inebriated took away from the adorably romantic effect. Sure, he was flattered. What guy wouldn't be? But love? She hasn't seen the before-coffee-in-the-morning Tyler. Or the Tyler who gets pissed when a guitar string breaks in the middle of soloing for a recording. There's a lot about him she didn't know, and frankly, there was a lot about her

he

didn't know. But then again,

he

wasn't the one claiming he was in love.