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Tears filled my eyes, held back by my brims. “This is how you love me?” I understood, finally. Why had it taken me so long to see it? His dominance was not about smothering me or holding me in check. If I let him, he’d take care of me forever and I would have all that I needed. His comfort, guidance and my back, protected.
“Sex is the vehicle for expressing our passions. However, music is the source of us. We can survive without sex, but not music. You know this, deep down. I can show you my love like this, if you let me. I’d write reams. My head is bursting with music for you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were composing? I thought it was for your dad.”
“I didn’t want to show you something incomplete. I’m not the quickest composer,” he guffawed. “My dad thinks I’m lazy. I’m just…slow.”
I looped my arm in his. “Can we try it?”
“Sure, but first, I want you to tell me these fears of yours are gone.” He turned me to face him and cupped my face in his warm hands. “I love you. There.” He sighed deeply. “It’s out and I should have said it in Germany. I’m committed to you in every way possible. My days of worrying about repeating the mistakes of my parents have gone. Now, tell me. Are you going to run away and hide from me?”
I rested my hands on his chest. His heart raced beneath my palms. “I love you, Stefan. I wanted to tell you, but until I knew how you felt, I’ve held back. Fiona questioned my motives, but she doesn’t know you. I shouldn’t have to defend you, or us. You have my back and I’m going to trust you to help me achieve my dreams. Dad’s gone, and I shall accept others will be special for me. I’m sorry I questioned your intentions.”
“Mausi. For goodness sake, keep questioning me, because that is what will make us stronger.”
The music beckoned to me. “Shall we?” I suggested.
Such a glorious time we had playing his music on my clarinet. Even sight-reading couldn’t stop me from giving my all. We stood opposite each other. My music on a stand while Stefan sang from memory. He didn’t need to see the notes. I listened as his divine voice wove about the sound of my clarinet. His passionate outpouring filled my soul, unifying our relationship. I was his tonic and always would be, and he would remain my Dominant.
I asked him what the first line said, since he sang in German.
“As you soar above…” He took hold of my hands in his. “My heart aches to be claimed.”
I blinked back my tears. “Consider it claimed.”
Epilogue
I could declare that everything is running smoothly, plain sailing so to speak, which would make Stefan smile, but life doesn’t offer those kinds of deals. We’re good. That’s what he tells me and I agree.
Sometimes, he gets heavy-handed and I have to give him a look or a word of warning. Never in the bedroom, or wherever we’re making out, which happens to be often, or anywhere in the studio, especially when my knickers are off and the skirt is short. If I do give him a warning signal, he always backs off, changes what he’s saying, or softens his language.
People say we’re cute together—the way we touch and smile all the time. We confessed to the orchestra members—not openly, we just stopped hiding that I went home with him. Nobody cared much, a few raised eyebrows, but they could see we don’t let it interfere.
Mum is suitably besotted with Stefan, because he can look after himself, and me too. Even Charlene, on one of her rare visits south, gave me her blessing. We visited Stefan’s mum one long summer weekend in Devon. Sweet-natured, musical like her son and shy, she said little but watched us together, taking it all in. Stefan and I walked hand in hand along sandy beaches, splashing in the shallow waves… Kissing. We’re improving on the romantic stuff.
I made a decision, with Stefan’s advice, and opted for a teacher’s diploma rather than a performer’s. I’m almost ready to take the exam. Afterward, I hanker to teach the clarinet in local schools. Stefan is supportive of my idea. He has extra pupils now, too, and his compositions are more concrete—and on paper!
As for us, when I feel us drift apart and we distance ourselves, I place our duet on the music stand, leaving it there so he can see it. He’s composed other pieces for me, but this is the one for us, the one with the perfect notes. When he sees it there, he knows we need to reconnect, play together…and make love.
So, we do.
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Touched
Jaye Peaches
Excerpt
Chapter One
Tania began the day of her massage in the same way she had for most of her working life—rising early and drinking copious amounts of strong, black coffee. Every morning she ignored the running machine in the corner of her spare room and dived into the shower. The extra time spent steaming under the hot water was far more preferable to a brisk jog. She’d bought the machine six months earlier with the intention of using it every day.
Her plan had begun well and in those early days of keenness, she had even set her alarm clock twenty minutes early to give herself time. The novelty had worn off much quicker than she’d anticipated. Even with the news channel on the TV, she’d grown bored. It wasn’t that she needed to lose weight—her never-ending diet kept her trim. It was the idea that she would burst out of the apartment full of energy and ready for work.
That morning, as usual, the shower won. Standing under the monsoon spray, the heat permeating her skin, she simply wanted to shut her eyes and melt away down the plughole.
She found the mornings especially hard—waking up alone, in a bed made for two, and not having anyone next to her. No masculine dint in the mattress or the aroma of aftershave lingering on a pillow. Ignoring the absence in her life, she often had monologues with her face in the bathroom mirror. She ran through all her outstanding tasks and errands for the day—remember this, speak to so-and-so, pick up fresh bread on the way home. A daily to-do list recited as a mantra and nobody interested in hearing it except Tania.
