Page 77 of Forbid It

“Axl Rose wanted real sex noises, so he brought a girl into the booth and had sex with her in front of a microphone.”

“Oh yeah?” I move my hands from the stool to rest on her hips as her hand comes up to curl around my neck.

“Hmm.” She nods before she drags my head away from her neck and presses her lips to mine.

“I liked what you were playing.”

Cassie turns back to the keys. “It’s just something that’s stuck in my head. The music always comes first for me, and then the lyrics come after.” She shrugs slightly. “It used to drive my old team crazy, because they wanted to get producers to create the beats and then we could add some lyrics on top. They used to pitch me loads of melodies and riffs and expected me to write some profound—but catchy!—words on top. I spent years trying to follow the rules and do what I was told, but now…” She runs her hands along the keys, her rings catching on the ivory. “Now I can do what works for me.”

I press a kiss to her hair. “Causing trouble.”

She laughs as she tilts her head up to me.

“Always.” She captures my lips in a kiss and I widen it, pressing my tongue into her mouth. I fist my hand in her hair, her silky curls slipping between each finger as I devour her mouth. She whimpers slightly against me and I pull back just enough to press a final kiss to her lips before nudging her chin back towards the piano.

“Let me hear what you’re working on.” I keep my head buried in the crook of her neck as I press a kiss behind her ear. She’s only wearing my t-shirt. It fits just below her ass and hangs off her shoulder, so I trace the collar with my lips.

“Robbie,” she whimpers.

“Keep playing, trouble,” I command in her ear.

She takes a steadying breath as her hands return to the keys, her nails clicking against the ivory as she starts playing the song I heard as I walked in. It’s slow and melodic, and she’s doing a good job of remembering the notes as I let my teeth gently graze against her skin.

I finally let my hands loosen in her hair, instead exploring her body. Her back is ramrod straight, her head still tilted, giving me access to her throat.

I cup her breast in my hand, lightly stroking the pebbled nipple, and her fingers slip on the keys.

“Uh uh,” I tut. “Start again.”

“Robbie,” she says in a low voice.

“Start again.”

She takes a deep breath as she starts over, and I keep my hands where they are, cupping each of her perfect tits in my hands. I can feel her breaths quicken.

Underneath the piano, her legs are moving on the pedals.

“What are the pedals for?” I mumble in her ear.

“They’re—” She swallows. “This one sustains the notes.” She lets her foot drop, and the music lingers in the air. “And this one dampens the sound.” The room is still eerily quiet outside of her music and the heavy breaths she’s sucking in.

My hands slowly roam from her breasts, teasing the edges of my t-shirt. “Do you need both?”

Cassie takes a sharp breath, my implication clear.

She shakes her head slightly, rolling until it’s resting on my shoulder, her eager mouth searching for mine.

I allow her a kiss, swallowing her whimper as I tug at the material of her shirt, only breaking the kiss when I lift the fabric over her head. I discard it on the floor at her feet, and now she’s completely naked, perched on the edge of the piano stool.

“Keep playing, trouble.” I gently clasp her thigh and tug until its stretched across the seat, her bare toes on her other foot barely reaching the pedal. I slide my hand up her thigh, pressing my lips to the juncture of her neck. Her chest heaves, and her heavy breasts rise and fall with the motion, but she keeps her fingers moving across the keys. With one hand, I slowly reach the patch of neat curls in between her thighs, my other hand gently cupping her breast. She hits a key, a discordant note echoing through the room.

I tut and let my hand drift back from her thigh, away from where she needs me.

She whines but immediately starts playing again, a mindless tune that still sounds magical.

“Good girl,” I purr in her ear as I finally place my fingers where she wants me. I spread my fingers through her wetness, and she leans her head back against my shoulder. I curl my finger inside, gently strumming her clit with my thumb, and her foot slips off the pedal with a thud.

“Robbie,” she gasps as she tilts her hips, chasing my hand as I plunge in and out of her wetness.