I was just about ready to pack it in.
I had no idea, really, why I’d even come out tonight. I mean, come on. Karaoke? I was not at all into this kind of shit. I couldn’t sing well, hated doing it in public, and didn’t have much tolerance for drunken fools in general.
Because drunken fools were just one step away from drunken psychos.
Besides, the guy up on stage right now was butchering a great old song, “Postcards from Paradise” by Flesh for Lulu. And it had been like that all night. Why did everybody who came out to this bar tonight have to be a really terrible singer?
Thankfully, Mr. Tone Deaf finished a moment later, and the MC sauntered on stage, looking ridiculous in a pair of galaxy-printed skinny jeans.
I ran my hands through my hair, heaving a tired sigh. Christ, I was cranky tonight. And judgmental. The dude was entitled to wear what he wanted, as long as he didn’t make me wear galaxy-printed skinny jeans.
I took a sip of my beer, thinking about why I was so damn cranky tonight. And knowing I couldn’t do a thing to fix it.
Larkin still wasn’t returning my phone calls. She hadn’t answered my texts. She hadn’t even opened the door when I’d rung the bell.
I’d finally appealed to Taylor, her best friend in the whole world, because I couldn’t think of anything else. I’d been going crazy without Larkin. I’d tried everything I could think of. There was nothing else to do.
I’d called Taylor Friday night, and she’d said she would go see her. But then she hadn’t. I didn’t know why. I didn’t care why. Taylor and her busy schedule, or ambivalence, or whatever it was, didn’t matter. I just needed to make things right with Larkin. Regret, remorse, and the possibility of reconciliation consumed my thoughts until I couldn’t see anything else.
So I’d gone to Taylor’s office this morning, strung out and pleading with her to help me. After fending off her boss, she’d promised to talk to Larkin for me. I’d begged her to hurry. She’d assured me that this time, she would.
So now I waited. And in the meantime, my work buddies had dragged me out to kara-fucking-oke.
Mr. Galaxy Pants grinned, pushing his thick, horn-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“We have a lovely lady coming up here to the stage now, and I just hope she sings as good as she looks.” He winked, and the drunken crowd laughed. “Let’s give it up for Miss Taylor!”
My eyes snapped to the stage, and sure enough, it was my co-worker, former date, and best friend of the woman I loved, Taylor Kusmierski. She took the mic from the host, giving him an air kiss much like the ones she’d once given me.
Weird to think that only a few weeks ago, I’d been infatuated with the woman. But now, it was her best friend that I couldn’t get out of my head.
“Thanks, Cody,” Taylor purred, giving the host a dazzling smile. “But I’m actually going to be the backup singer here.” The crowd booed, probably because they wanted to find out if Taylor really was as good a singer as she looked.
“I know, I know,” she said, hamming it up for the audience. “But I promise you are in for a treat.” She gestured to stage right, where a second woman was coming up on stage.
A woman with long, black hair and a surly scowl that I loved so well.
I sucked in a breath. Holy shit. Larkin was here!
Wait. Larkin was here? In Bethpage, twenty miles from her home on South Bay Island? At some bar? Singing karaoke?
What. The. Fuck?
The MC jogged on stage again, way faster than he should have been able to in those skinny jeans. He handed Larkin a mic, and she gave the crowd a nervous smile.
“Hey, everyone.”
Her husky voice hit me right in the nuts, like it always did. God, I missed her. She was really here, not fifteen feet from me, and she looked amazing. She had on jeans and a green sweater that brought out her lavender eyes and she was fucking here.
She scanned the audience for a moment, like she was looking for someone. Then her eyes locked on me, and her smile grew until her whole face was illuminated by it.
Incandescent. Absolutely radiant. And she was here. I leaned forward in my seat as she brought the mic up to her lips again.
“This song is dedicated to Graham,” she said.
“Fucking sing!” some drunk idiot whined.
“I’m fucking getting there,” she shot back, and I barked out a laugh. That was the Larkin I knew and loved, that ballbuster right there.
“Anyway, I just wanted to let you all know that this is Graham’s favorite song ever and he sings it in the shower because he really super loves it,” she said, her eyes lighting up with evil glee.
I groaned, because I knew what was coming. And I knew my work buddies would give me endless shit for it.
But right in that moment, I found it really hard to care.
“Is that your girl?” my buddy Wilson asked, leaning across the table.
I grinned. “Yup.”
He gave me a funny look. “Hunh. Didn’t you used to be with Taylor?”
I nodded. “Yup.”
He scratched his head. “Seems like you downgraded.”
I shook my head, my smile growing. “Nah.”
Because this woman, the woman on stage right now who was laughing impishly as the music started, was it for me. The best. The ultimate. The highest of upgrades.
And she was singing the guiltiest of guilty pleasures, just for me.
Her husky voice tore through “Heaven is a Place on Earth” like it was written for her. And she wasn’t a bad singer. Not at all.
In fact, her singing voice was quickly becoming my favorite sound in the world. As she hit the chorus, Taylor joined her, and they harmonized effortlessly, like they’d done it a thousand times. Probably because they had. As the song continued, they even threw in some girl group-style dance moves, and the crowd hooted and cheered.
“This is your favorite song?” Wilson shouted over the music.
I laughed. “It is now.”
And then I was on my feet, pushing through the crowd to get to the stage. The song was ending, and Larkin was grinning at me, and I just couldn’t wait. I had to get to her.
She handed the mic to Taylor seconds before I swept her off her feet. She latched her arms around my neck, and in the next breath I was kissing her.
God, I hadn’t gotten nearly enough of this. Her lips were so soft, and full, and perfect, and her tongue seemed to know exactly what to do to drive me crazy. We devoured each other, tasting and teasing until I forgot where we were, forgot all the bullshit that had happened between us, forgot my own name, even.
Until the crowd reminded us that we weren’t, in fact, alone.
Jeers and cheers alike gradually seeped into my consciousness, and I reluctantly broke the kiss. Larkin stepped back, and Taylor immediately enveloped her in a hug.
“Okay, okay,” the MC said, laughing along with the crowd. I looked around, giving him a sheepish smile.
He covered the mic with his hand, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “The stock room is usually empty this time of night.” He nodded to a door on the other side of the bar, almost hidden from sight by a heavy, glittery curtain. “Just don’t make a mess.”
My eyebrows flew up in surprise. Did he mean…?
He winked, lifting the mic again and turning back to the crowd. “Well, let’s hear it for Miss Taylor and her lovestruck friend! Three more cheers for the happy couple!”
The crowd erupted in applause, but I tuned them out as my eyes found Larkin’s again. She gave me a happy smile over Taylor’s shoulder, beckoning me to join them.
And my feet carried me to her before my brain had even caught up. After all, I was her puppet, and she held the strings.
And I was really hoping she’d never let them go. I’d be happy to be her puppet for the rest of my life.
She grabbed my hand, pulling me off stage. She headed for the door, but I couldn’t wait that long. It was reckless, and possibly gross. If Mr. Galaxy Pants had suggested it to me, it must have been a regular thing. But I didn’t care in that instant. I needed to complete this reunion. I needed Larkin, right fucking now.
I tugged on her arm to stop her, turning her around and stealing another kiss. But I broke it off as another thought occurred to me. I rested my forehead against hers, breathing her in.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured against her lips. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed for so much so soon.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I panicked. I thought I wasn’t ready for this. For you.”
I pulled back, searching her eyes. “And are you now?” My breathing was shallow and labored as I waited for her answer.
Her smile was blinding. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes. I choose love, Graham. I choose you.”
I threw my head back, letting out a whoop. Then I grabbed her hand again, all but dragging her over to the bar’s stock room.
“Where are we-” She stopped short when I opened the door, preventing me from pulling her inside. “Graham,” she hissed, her eyes darting furtively. “People will see us.”
I grinned. “I don’t care,” I said. “Let them see that I am taking the sexiest woman in this bar in here for a dirty, noisy fuck.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked kind of dazed as she turned her face up to mine. “Dirty and noisy, huh?”
“Oh, yeah.” I leaned down, taking her mouth for mine, my tongue invading her mouth without preamble. “And sweaty,” I added.
A smile spread across her face slowly. “Well fine then. Let’s fuck.”
I pulled her to me, slamming the door behind us. “Yes. Let’s.”
And then my mouth covered hers again.
A few minutes later, she groaned as she came up for air. “I wore fucking jeans,” she grumbled.
“I know,” I said. “I like them.”
She looked amazing in leggings, or pajama pants, or yoga pants, or whatever other leisure clothes she usually wore. But Christ. Larkin in jeans? Unparalleled.
“But they’re harder to get off,” she grunted as she unbuttoned them, kicking off her shoes at the same time. She shimmied her hips, trying to pull them down. “Fucking Taylor. She made me wear these stupid fucking things and now I can’t fucking get them off.”
I put my hands over hers, stopping her struggling. “Here.”
With one good tug, I pulled them down to her knees. But the fabric got stuck on her knees. I worked on them for a minute or two, until finally I was able to pull them down and off. I tossed them to the floor next to her shoes.
In the meantime, she unzipped my work pants, reached into my boxers, and pulled my dick out.
“Fuck.” My hands faltered as her hand closed around me, hot and soft and goddamn it I was not going to last if she kept that up.
I pressed my lips to hers, nipping at them. “Back pocket,” I growled. “Wallet.”
She reached behind me, taking my wallet out and pulling out the emergency condom I kept in there. She tore it open quickly, rolling it down my dick. She stroked me a couple of times, and I growled again, biting her lower lip to stop her. Then I put my hands on under her ass, lifting her until she was hovering over me. She locked her legs around my waist, lining up her slick heat over me.
“Graham,” she whispered, locking eyes with me. She lifted her hands, cupping my face. “I love you.”
I closed my eyes. Heaven. This had to be heaven.
“I love you,” I told her, opening my eyes. “I love you so much.”
And then I eased my grip on her ass, letting gravity take over until she sank all the way down on my cock.
Yeah. Definitely heaven.
“Oh my God,” she breathed.
“Feel so good,” I rasped. “So fucking good.”
“Fucking move. Please, Graham, fuck me hard.”
I huffed out a laugh, my lips brushing against hers, as I pressed her back against the door. Then I gripped her hips and fucked her as hard as I dared.
The last time we did this, she’d been nearly silent, preferring to kiss me rather than listen to my words of love. But now, the room was filled with noise, just as I’d promised – and most of it was coming from her. She was moaning dirty words in my ear, telling me how much she loved me, loved my cock, loved my stupid fucking perfect body.
I grinned as I pistoned my hips into her, pushing her back against the door with every thrust. “I love your stupid fucking perfect body, too.” Her spectacular tits were pressed to my chest, her arms wrapped around my head, her tight pussy squeezing me.
Fucking heaven.
“I’m still too skinny.” She groaned. “But I gained five pounds. I ate all the fucking food while you were gone.”
I laughed. “You can gain all the pounds. I don’t care.”
“I still didn’t shave my fucking legs.”
“I fucking like it,” I assured her, running my thumb along the downy hair on her thighs.
“I’m mean as fuck.”
“Don’t.” I kissed her. “Fucking.” Kiss. “Care.” Kiss.
Her eyes filled with tears, but she was grinning. “God, I fucking love you.” I felt her clench around me.
“Yes! Come on, Larkin. Give it to me!”
“Ungh. You’re fucking bossy,” she grumbled, but I felt her getting closer.
I shifted so I could hold her with one arm. Then I pushed the other hand between us, rubbing her clit with strong, sure motions.
“I’m also kind of dumb, apparently.”
She fixed me with a look even as her eyes glazed over. “It’s only fair. You’re too fucking pretty to be smart, too.”
I huffed. “I’m a workaholic,” I told her.
She cried out as her orgasm crashed over her.
“And I’m kind of a geek.”
“Ah!” She laughed, which made her pussy grip me even tighter.
And that did it for me. I let out a loud, long groan as I let go, pulsing five or six times, deep inside her.
“A sexy geek,” she murmured, sifting her hands through my hair. “My sexy geek.”
I grinned. “Yeah I am.”
I liked the sound of it, Larkin calling me hers.
In fact, it might have just become my favorite sound in the whole world.