“No problem. I hate clutter, so I really did it for myself.”
She’s so funny. I don’t think she realizes it. “I was gonna write, but I don’t think I can concentrate in the kitchen with that party out front.”
Nibbling on her bottom lip, she looks around our room. “What if you stay here, and I wear Layla’s noise-canceling headphones? I could read for a while or journal. I swear I won’t listen to you, and the baby seems wiped out. I don’t think it’ll bother her.”
“You’re really sweet.” I pull her into my arms and kiss her. “Let’s give it a try.”
Back home, I tend to write in the barn. I usually prefer being alone so I don’t feel self-conscious about making mistakes. I can’t seem to find a good spot here, though, and the idea of not having great material when we hit Dallas makes my stomach cramp. But I need to make the most of this tour, and if that means I write next to my girlfriend and kid, so be it.
Sitting on the bed with my guitar, I strum the melody I was working on this afternoon as I watch Rory studiously write in her journal. She’s wearing those headphones, and her glasses are perched on her dainty nose as she pauses to look up at the ceiling like she’s trying to find the right words.
Never thought I’d want another chance,
Never thought I’d want that ride
But she’s got my head spinning,
Watching our worlds collide
By the time I finish the song, I realize Rory’s curled up next to me, asleep. After I put away my spiral notebook, I gently take off her headphones and glasses. When her eyes crack open, I lean down to kiss her forehead. “Sorry, babe. Those headphones didn’t look comfortable.”
“Thank you.” She yawns and glances around. “What time is it?”
“Late,” I whisper. “Go back to sleep. I’m gonna grab a quick shower.” Tomorrow is another big day. On tour, every day feels like we’re on the cusp of leveling up or crashing out.
After my shower, I towel off and toss on some boxer briefs. Snapping the waistband into place, my mind drifts back to the chaos of the last few days. Somehow, we’re surviving it. As stressful as this has been, Rory’s been a fucking rock star. She’s so good with Layla and she really seems to get me. Our date tonight was fun even if we had to do laundry.
The bus is quiet now, the sounds of the party out front dying down. Our room is dark and quiet, just the hum of the AC in the background. After I check on my daughter, who’s sleeping soundly, I slide into bed. Rory wiggles closer, and I hold out my arm, loving when she molds herself to me. She must have stripped off her jeans while I was in the shower because now she’s just wearing a t-shirt and underwear. It’s sexy as hell. I will my dick to calm down and kiss the top of her head, hoping for a great night’s sleep.
Except I can’t fall asleep. I’m thinking about those songs, and how Layla needs more clothes, and how some asshole knifed our damn tire. A solid forty minutes go by, and I’m wondering if it’s too late to go for a run. Because I need to burn off some energy.
“What’s wrong?” Rory asks against my chest.
“Too much going on in my head. Sorry I woke you.”
She runs her soft hand up and down my stomach. “You know what helps me relax?” she asks, her voice groggy.
“Hmm?”
“Orgasms.”
I still, thinking I must have imagined those words. Did my little librarian really just say that out loud? I glance down at her. “Are you offering to lend a hand?”
She folds her arms on my chest, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “I’m offering more than my hand.”
My cock sits up, interested. “Baby.” I chuckle. “You don’t have to…”
“I know I don’thaveto, but maybe I want to.”
I promised myself we’d take this slow. I don’t want her to think this is just about sex. At the same time, I realize she can decide this for herself. “Your speed,” I remind her.
She chews the inside of her cheek, uncertainty in her eyes. “I don’t have a lot of experience doing this, but…” Now I’m really fucking interested. I hold my breath, waiting for her to finish her thought. “But if I gave you a blow job, would you show me what you like?”
“I’m pretty much gonna love anything involving your mouth and my dick.”
She grins and looks away, but I grab her beautiful face and drag her lips to mine. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” I strip off her t-shirt until she’s in a tiny pair of cotton panties.
I’m used to women sporting leather and lace and everything in between. But the sight of her prim little underwear with that tiny pink bow in the front does it for me. I crawl over her and kiss her until she’s moaning beneath me. Her thighs wrap around me, and I feel her heat through her thin panties. On a gasp, she pushes me away. “I’m supposed to do… things… to you.”