Chapter 20

LEVI

As much as I’d wanted to sink into her, I hadn’t brought a condom into the shower. Instead of making love again, she’d stroked my cock while I gently washed her hair and lathered her body in scented soaps.

Reflecting on it now, the ease of our intimacy under the water stunned me. Even when her gaze was sharp and her tongue dripped venom, some inner part of me yearned for Diana.

Now that I’d had the pleasure of sleeping with her, a part of me would seek her out for the rest of my life.

I quickly dressed while Diana slipped into a gray T-shirt dress, a black overcoat, and converse. She tried, but nothing could hide the permanent smile brightening her face while we got ready for the day.

The sight of her gorgeous grin lifted my spirits as we walked out to my car. After holding the passenger door open for her, I slid behind the wheel.

In no time, the engine rumbled to life, and I steered toward my place.

“Want to grab breakfast on the way to my studio?” I asked, sliding my fingers over the console to hold her hand.

My heart pounded when she entwined our fingers without a second thought.

“That sounds great. After last night, I’m starving,” she chirped back.

Her thumb idly stroked over the back of my hand, and heat rose under my cheeks.

~I’m fucking blushing.~

“Anything you want, songbird,” I said.

I pulled her hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to her wrist. In the corner of my eye, I noticed her subtly squirming in the seat.

“Breakfast tacos?” she suggested.

“I know just the place,” I replied.

A quick drive-through, a bag full of tacos, and two coffees later, I parked outside my studio. Even as we walked toward the door, I kept her fingers firmly in mine.

The thought of letting go caused an aching fissure to crack open inside my chest.

Eventually, I released Diana’s hand. She went to the music room to set up for the day while I headed upstairs to change clothes.

The studio apartment felt lifeless and bland without her presence at my side.

Dressed in a fresh black band T-shirt and dark jeans, I rushed back to her. A knotted rope in my chest pulled me step after step as if she held the other end and tugged me nearer.

We ate breakfast together, discussing what had to be completed by the end of the day. At the rate she was breezing through new lyrics, we’d finish our contract early.

Diana was an irrefutable genius.

When sitting next to one another, my thigh remained pressed to hers. Every time purple threads of hair fell into her face, I’d carefully brush them behind her ears.

If she reached for something, I reached at the same time for the simple pleasure of feeling her fingers bump against mine.

Those astute green eyes missed nothing. She noticed halfway through the day that I was a needy mess, desperate to touch her.

I’d hold out a finger or my hand for her and she’d graze her skin against mine, sending sparks over every inch of me.

Perhaps she felt the same. God, I hoped she did.

“I’ll finish the piano parts for the third song. Later today we can work out the guitar portions,” I announced, reluctantly rising from the studio couch.

Diana shot off the couch as if we were magnetically pulled to one another.

“I’ll come with you. I could…maybe I could play the guitar,” she stammered through the suggestion.

My brows shot into my hairline and my lips split from ear to ear.

“Hell yes. Pick any one you want,” I exclaimed, gesturing with one hand at the wall.

Her pinky touched mine, and a timid curve lifted the corner of her lips. Then her head bobbed toward the wall of guitars.

The light that shone from her eyes each time she looked at them rivaled the luminescence of the sun.

“Guitar solos are an essential part of heavy metal. That’s what my dad used to say,” she hummed while tracing her fingers over strings.

I felt a thrill in my heart when she pulled down my favorite all-black Ibanez Destroyer. It excited me that she’d pick that one out of every instrument on the wall.

“He’s right, of course. Hot-wired electrics and guitars with active pickup show off the instrument’s importance to the genre.”

I cut myself off before I’d begin rambling. I added, “If you want to use that one, I have a high gain speaker and overdrive pedal in the recording room.”

Diana chuckled softly and turned to me.

“You’re a lot like him, you know? You’re the front man who sings lead vocals and plays lead guitar. You make all your performances a show that fans will never forget.”

My next breath shuddered out of me. To receive such high praise from Diana Winslow was overwhelming.

I’d carve out my vocal cords and offer them to her on a silver platter if she asked.

Devan Johnson had been my idol and the greatest inspiration throughout the formative years of my life. His influence was even more profound as I built my career.

Hearing Diana compare me to her late and great father meant the world to me in ways I didn’t have the words to express.

“Thank you. I really appreciate you saying that.”

I swallowed over the dry lump in my throat.

“Well, I mean it.”

She winked at me before vanishing into the recording room, sending my heart soaring into my brain.

Like a puppet on a string, or a puppy on a leash, I followed her through the doorway. I plugged in the instruments and speakers for her while she tossed the strap over her head.

Then I plopped down on the piano bench, facing her.

There was no way I would miss a private performance from her.

Diana didn’t even look at me as she slowly examined the guitar and familiarized herself with the feel and weight of it. Her fingers fluttered like butterfly wings over the strings.

A second later, exploratory notes drifted through the air. Wavering, haunting music that washed over my skin and invaded my blood.

With each string she plucked, and each note she sang, she hooked herself deeper and deeper into the intimate and visceral parts of my being.

Diana became so entranced with the music she didn’t seem to notice me. I tipped forward on the edge of my seat, wholly entranced by her.

She was a siren on the high seas, and I was the lone sailor rowing my damned boat over the waves to reach her.

The front of my pants tightened over my stiffening groin, and fiery blood rushed under my skin.

Lured in, I rose to my feet. Diana’s eyes flicked up, cautiously watching but still playing as I approached.

I grabbed the recording microphone on standby and pulled it to my lips.

~“Grind on me, I’ll make you soar.~

~“Burning fire, our flames shoot higher.~

~“Combined release like geysers from my core.”~

Diana’s eyes shot up, and we locked gazes. A charged spark jolted through the space between us. The connection was strong enough to restart my heart.

As I sang, she added background vocals, humming and cooing in her angelic voice. I continued singing from the well of music in my soul.

~“Spread your wings, I’ll make you fly.~

~“Sing for me in a throaty cry.~

~“Songbird. Songbird. Songbird.~

~“Sing for me, songbird.”~

With each word from my lips, we drifted closer to one another. Static electricity sparked over my lips. Diana and I were gaining speed and making waves, and nothing would stop our collision course.

Blurred movement came from my hands flashing to her face. Diana’s breath leapt past her lips as I grabbed her cheeks and yanked her face to mine. I stole her inhale when our lips crashed together with a sweet, bruising intensity.

“Oh, Levi, I need you again. Please,” she begged into my mouth.

“Goddamn, after watching you play my favorite guitar, I was already planning on fucking you,” I said.

I grabbed her wrist and tugged her closer. My other hand unbuttoned my pants, and I slipped her hand over my straining erection.

“You feel what you do to me? Can you feel how much I want you, songbird?” I asked.

“Yes. Yes. Right now.”

Diana pulled my cock free, and from that moment on my vision filled with all the flaming reds of passion and desire.