Summer finally arrived. With it came the usual evenings spent entertaining friends and extra sessions with my students, practicing for weekend recitals. In the long year since I had last spoken to Jordan, I had thrown myself both into teaching and performing, trying hard to eradicate the feel of her kisses and caresses from my memory. After a few attempts to contact me, her calls finally stopped and I no longer worried I would see her standing in the doorway to my studio or buzzing to be let up to my apartment. I was peripherally aware of her, of course, and I suppose I made a conscious effort to avoid places where her work was most likely to be exhibited. Eventually, between my performance and teaching schedules, I thought of Jordan less and less.
I woke up early the morning before a performance and stretched languidly, enjoying the sated feeling in my limbs. Next to me, Paul slept, snoring lightly and looking like a little boy with his hair tousled and his fist curled under his chin. I reached over and gently brushed his hair off his forehead, then bent and kissed him softly. He stirred slightly, then turned over and was soon snoring again. I quietly got out of bed and put on my robe, then closed the door behind me so I wouldn't disturb him while I practiced.
I had met Paul five months ago at a recital I gave in honor of a very wealthy patron of our local symphony who was celebrating her 80th birthday. It was a wonderfully ritzy black tie affair, and soon after I'd performed I was introduced to a tall, striking man whose eyes were so dark blue they were nearly violet. His dark brown hair, although expensively cut, tumbled down over his forehead and made him look like a naughty boy trying to convince others of his innocence. The entire time we were talking, I wanted to run my fingers through his hair, which made it pretty hard for me to concentrate on the conversation. When he asked me out at the end of the evening, I surprised myself by accepting.
My initial excitement turned to nervousness and uncertainty, and I almost cancelled our first date. It had been so long since I'd even considered going out with anyone that I wasn't sure I remembered how to act. I realized that I couldn't shut myself off forever, so I swallowed my reservations and went through with it. A month later we became lovers.
I sat at my piano and did a few quick warm up exercises. It still amazed me how easily I had slipped back into the performance circuit and how incredibly fulfilling it had become to me. I settled in to practice the music I would be performing the next night and soon was lost in Mendelssohn's beautiful "Songs Without Words".
I felt Paul lift the hair off the back of my neck and kiss me, his lips sending shivers down my spine. The feeling that rushed through my body felt like an extension of the music I was playing, and I leaned back into his warmth. He slid his hands over my shoulders and down inside the robe I was wearing, cupping my breasts and leaning over to kiss the side of my neck.
"I think you should always dress like this when you practice," he murmured against my skin, sending vibrations through my body.
"Is that right?" I sighed, placing my hands over his and squeezing.
"Mmmm," he hummed, sliding the robe off my shoulders and kissing my bare skin, his hands like cool silk on my breasts. I straightened up and turned my head slightly so I could kiss him.
"You're so bad!" I laughed, pushing him away. "You know I can't concentrate when you do that!"
He smiled his naughty boy smile, looking at me from under his eyelashes.
"I can't help it," he said, grinning. "You're so damn irresistible."
"Go away, you pagan," I said. "Let me finish what I need to do, or I'll be weird all day. You know how it goes."
With a sigh, Paul pulled my robe back up over my shoulders and gave me a parting kiss on the top of my head.
"Yeah, I know. Kate the Great and all that," he said ruefully, teasing me. "I'll be around somewhere… waiting…if you're interested." He walked out of the music room and closed the doors behind him.
I sat, for the moment unable to focus on what I was supposed to be doing. The thought of Paul's delicious, lean body was almost too much for me to resist, but I finally was able to turn my thoughts back to music and soon was lost again.
When I resurfaced and joined the world, I was startled to see it was early afternoon. I stood up and stretched, then went to check on Paul before I took a shower. I expected to see him sitting at his drawing board in the study, working on his latest project, but he wasn't there.
"Paul?" I called out, not finding him in the kitchen or in the TV room. I went into the bedroom and stopped cold. He was sitting up in bed fast asleep, with papers and blueprints scattered all around. I stared at him for long moments, drinking in his beauty.
I walked over and picked up the papers, moving them off the bed and trying not to wake him. He was sound asleep, his hair tumbling over his forehead, the smooth skin of his chest rising and falling with each breath. I felt a stirring deep inside me as I looked at his strong hands and his lips, remembering his touch. I dropped my robe and slid naked into the bed next to him, moving softly. I pulled the covers down past his waist and gently began stroking the firm muscles of his stomach, rubbing my hand in small circles until I reached his chest. I leaned down and licked one of his nipples, then felt him stir as he woke up and looked at me with those violet blue eyes.
"Hi there," he said, his voice roughened with sleep.
"Hi, yourself," I said, scooting closer and caressing his chest, bending down to take his nipple in my mouth.
He moaned, and I felt his muscles tighten as he started to put his arms around me. I sat up and pushed his hands away, then straddled him and leaned down to kiss him. His hands came up and began to move restlessly in my hair, and I could feel him growing hard against me as I slowly moved my body up and down on him.
"Oh, god," he breathed into my mouth, sliding down further until he was flat on his back with me on top of him. My hair, which had grown long, tumbled into his face, something he found incredibly sexy. He pulled me down and kissed me long and slow, exploring me with his tongue. I stretched out on top of him, our bodies fitting perfectly. We kissed for a long time, both of us making little noises that signified our mounting passion.
I sat up again, wanting his fullness, and he looked into my eyes as I lowered myself onto his length. He moaned loudly as our flesh met and I took him deep inside me. His hands moved up to caress my breasts and erect nipples, and I placed my hands on his chest as I began to rock back and forth. Our eyes met and held, his hips thrusting with long slow movements as we rocked together in rhythm. I could tell he was about to explode by his breathing and the way his eyes widened, so I slowed down because I wasn't ready yet.
"I want us to come together," I whispered, leaning forward to capture his lips in mine.
"Yes," he breathed hoarsely. "Oh, yes. Just let me know when baby, okay?"
"Touch me, Paul," I said, our faces inches apart. "Touch me, and it won't be long."
I sat up again and began to rock as Paul slid his hand between our bodies and found my clit, stroking it firmly as me moved inside me. I began to shake as his finger moved more rapidly on my swollen clit, pressing into me in the places he knew so well. I tossed my head back as I felt the orgasm building, and cried out loud as it washed over me. Paul's hands held my waist as he thrust deeply into me, his entire length throbbing as he moaned and exploded seconds after I did.
