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I always enjoyed performing that one, especially when I knew Van was watching.
One of his hands dropped below the table, hidden from view.
I smirked and leaned forward until our noses almost touched. I licked my lips and heard his sharp inhale.
“Now that I know you want me, I sure as fuck don’t know how I’m gonna hold back. If I could, I’d climb across this table and give you the best goddamn kiss of your life. Or maybe I’d slide underneath and suck your big cock down to the back of my throat.”
Van nearly dropped his espresso cup, the dark liquid spilling over the edge.
I grabbed a napkin and wiped his hand. “Careful there; I have a need for that hand in the near future.”
His neck and face flushed a gorgeous shade of pink as he shook his head. “Can we please just stop talking about kissing, sucking, or cocks? Please?”
“I love it when you beg.”
“Brodie—”
Fuck, Van growling at me like that sparked my lust like nothing else.
I smiled at him. “I want you to join me on stage tomorrow.”
“What?” he startled again.
“I’m changing the topic like you asked. I want to perform a duet with you.”
He shook his head. “I’m not a professional performer.”
“You can sing. I’ve heard you.”
“Not like you.”
“Duh.”
Van threw the napkin back at me as he tried not to smile.
My laughter let loose. I was doing a lot of that today—a sign of good things to come… in more ways than one.
“I know you’re a talented guitarist. Come on, it’ll be fun,” I urged.
“I’ll have to run it by Greg—”
“Fuck what he thinks! It’s our show.”
“He’s still your boss.”
“Not at this event,” I replied. “Come on, Van.”
Van finally nodded.
“Okay. One song. But you need to carry most of the vocals. And I need a guitar. I didn’t bring mine with me.”
“You can borrow one of my babies, but handle with care.”
“Of course. But I’m warning you: I haven’t played in a long while. When I’m songwriting, sure, but not in front of others. Not since, well, before my mom passed.”
That was three years ago.
“She was into music, right? Wasn’t she a teacher?”
