Page 30 of Protecting Her

I rolled and then she was on top of me. I loved it when she was on top of me like that. Her hair always brushed at my thighs in the most enticing ways, and she would writhe on top of me in her own way. Her hips moved, and I found her clit with one hand and a nipple with the other.

I watched her explode on me, and I knew this was the most perfect thing we could ever do together. Sex was when we were absolute magic.

I woke up from the dream suddenly, my dick hard and my body on fire. I didn’t have paper and pen, so I pulled up a notepad on my phone and began to write. I wrote songs when I was in a band, but stopped when the band dissolved and then my dad insisted I become more involved with the hotels. I hadn’t had a reason to write another song since then, and even now, my attempts might have seemed sophomoric compared to the songs Ember could just magic up off the top of her head. But it was a song I wanted to sing on our wedding day. If only I could find her.

Ember

Maybe I was crazy, but I’d put off signing the contract. I had this crawly feeling all over my skin every single time I considered putting my name on it. Tied to people I didn’t know, with clauses I didn’t understand wasn’t a very smart thing to do, was it? I knew this was my gut telling me this wasn’t a good deal.

Oh, it looked like it, the contract promised me the moon and stars, but something was just… off. I probably should’ve had a lawyer look it over, maybe that would’ve helped. I tapped my thumbnail against my bottom teeth and stared at the hard copy of the contract. I knew some of my problem was the fact that I wanted to go back to Nashville.

I loved the cozy atmosphere there, the growing legion of fans I had, and the way my voice rang through the room just right. I loved my room back there, and that bed. God, I missed that bed. There was also the fact that I couldn’t find muscadine wine up here. I could find reds and whites from all over the world, but not a single drop of muscadine. What was that about?

And Kevin was there. I’d felt as if I’d held my breath all weekend as I waited for him to show up. I hadn’t seen him though, and I’d started to think I wouldn’t. I’d been a little apprehensive when Sarah had said Kevin was on the prowl, but that had soon passed. Maybe I’d made a mistake, after all?

A big part of relationships was trust. There had to be trust, or so all of the blogs I’d read had said. You had to trust your partner, and they had to trust you. I hadn’t done that though. Instead, I’d trusted some woman I didn’t know from Adam, and had run off like the Runaway Bride. Spooked at the first sign of trouble.

We hadn’t even had our first argument yet! And here I was, about to put my life in some stranger’s hands to protect myself from what? A broken heart that I’d given to myself. Maybe I should have waited, asked him. I wouldn’t be up here in this cold, noisy place that made me feel like a small cog in a galaxy-sized machine.

I pushed the contract away and went back to my window. I’d called the agent’s office and told them I didn’t feel well. Such a childish excuse, I knew, but it had been all I could think of. I didn’t have any family to kill off for the day, and I’d never learned to drive so I couldn’t claim car problems or an accident.

They’d tried to get me to let them come to me, with a notary, but that had led to another lie: I’m constantly in the bathroom, no you can’t come over. That had been embarrassing, but there’d been little I could do about it. Oh well, I still had a sizeable nest egg in my bank account, so I didn’t need to work right away. Even at New York City prices.

I stared out at the street below, always busy with cars and people walking by. The buildings across from me were all brownstone apartments and residential areas. Down the street there was a shop on the corner, I could just pop out and buy whatever I needed and come back home in a matter of minutes. I didn’t have to drive to a store to pick things up.

I could take the bus wherever I wanted to go, even to another state, so I had a freedom here that I didn’t have in more rural areas. I loved that, and had been delighted with it at first, but as the days passed, reality set in. I didn’t have anywhere to go, there was nobody I could pop over to see. I was alone here, and even the lure of countless museums and interesting sites couldn’t draw me out of the apartment.

I wanted to go back to Nashville. In my head and heart, that place had become home. I went to the couch that had filled me with glee when I first saw it, but now only left me with a sore ass because it was so hard, and picked up my notebook. I’d filled it with new songs and would soon need another one.

Some were only sketches, outlines of the song that might never be. Others were finished with music to go with it. Those would go on the album I had planned. If I ever signed that contract. The producer the agent had introduced me to was a bitch. She’d looked me up and down, snarled her nose a little, and had looked at the agent.

“Seriously?” she’d asked the agent before she sighed. “Fine, we’ll fit her in to the schedule somewhere. I hope you’re right. There isn’t much market for her style nowadays, but maybe she can make a comeback for it.”

“Well, there’s a reason “Man, I Feel Like a Woman” is still popular on karaoke lists. I have a feeling Ember has the next hit in her, I just know she does,” the agent, a balding man named Pete, had replied.

I’d just stood there, numb, but with the knowledge that I was this close to a record contract. It wasn’t with one of the powerhouse labels, but it was a label. Or so I’d thought at the time. Now, I knew this was all wrong. I needed to go out somewhere. I’d been cooped up in this place too long. All weekend, I realized as I went into the tiny, cold bathroom to do something with my hair.

I put it up in a bun and found a pair of jeans, a long cream colored sweater, and a pair of boots to wear underneath my coat. When I walked out of the apartment, my skin was clear of any makeup, but I didn’t care. I was supposed to be sick, right?

I knew it wasn’t likely I’d see anyone who knew I was supposed to have signed a contract today, so I went down to the bus stop without a worry. The sun was starting to go down, so some of the places I could visit would be closed, but not many. It was New York City, another place that barely slept.

I headed to an art museum that was known around the world, and wandered around there for a couple hours. Then I went to another museum about World War II, and that brought the world down around me. I was somber by the time I left the museum and just walked out of the place with no destination in mind. I had nowhere to be and no one to see; well, not now that my appointment time had passed me by.

I saw a diner down one street, one of those old-fashioned aluminum deals where the windows were all steamy, and decided some artery-clogging goodness was just what I needed right now. I went in and sat down at an empty booth, and smiled when a gum-popping waitress came up to the table with a grin.

“What’ll it be, sugar?” she asked with a wink, and I looked down at her nametag.

“I’ll have a cheesesteak platter please, Pam,” I said with a wink of my own. The menu was on a large board overhead of the cooks behind the counter, and I’d picked out what my stomach had growled over the most.

“Coming up. Oh, what do you want to drink?” she managed to ask all of that while she still popped her gum, and I liked her spunk. She was definitely a character.

“Just some tea please.” I forgot I was in the north though, not the south.

“Hot, cold, herbal or regular, sweetened or unsweetened?” She kind of rolled her eyes a little but softened it with a smirk.

“Sweet and cold please. I didn’t get this figure by watching calories, now did I?” She’d inspired me, and when she heard my response she laughed.

We were good then. I liked her direct, bold style, and knew she could be a friend. If I stayed in New York.