“Every breath you take makes my heart beat. I am, only because of you.” ~ Johnny Outlaw
Dalton whispers, “One night. That’s all I get?”
“I have to leave in the morning.”
“Let’s not waste time then. I want to spend every minute with you in bed.”
I nod, his sweetness making me smile. We enter the two-story suite. Just inside, he drops his keys and wallet on the table, and we head for the stairs. “I was hoping for the bathroom.”
The playfulness is heard in his voice. “You love to watch.”
“Don’t make it sound like I’m the only one,” I say, laughing. “You love to watch, too.”
“Oh I like to watch. I’m just wondering when you’re going to let me install mirrors above our bed.”
“Never. Too obvious.”
“Too obvious for whom?” he asks.
“I may like to watch, but I don’t want to sleep on the set of a porno.”
I laugh right when we reach the top of the stairs, but he doesn’t. He pulls me to the side, pressing me against the wall. His lips are on my neck, his talented hands squeezing my breasts. “I want you,” he murmurs. We’ve been married a year and a half and he’s been touring on and off the last four months. His mouth feels so good on me. He adds, “This is our last chance to make the most of our time together and I intend to… several times.”
With my head tilted back, I don’t bother whispering, “You have me. I’m yours all night. However you want me.”
His hands slide under my shirt as he presses his hips against me. Dalton is passionate about everything he does, but he’s especially passionate for me. I feel the same, so I take his hands in mine. When he opens his eyes, I whisper, “Come with me.” Pulling him toward the bedroom, I walk backward, keeping my eyes on him.
When we enter the room, love is replaced with a lust that’s seen in his eyes—deep emerald with flecks of danger in them.
I stop in front of the bathroom door and discard my shirt. “Eyes down here,” I say, making sure he’s watching as I strip for him. I slowly turn around, sliding my jeans down over my hips. Peeking over my shoulder, I challenge with eye contact. “What are you waiting for? Get naked for me.”
His thumb runs over his bottom lip and then licks it. “So damn demanding.”
“You love it.”
“I might. I might also need to punish you for it.”
My eyebrows go up. “Is it still a punishment if I enjoy it?” I bend all the way down and step out of my jeans. Curving my back up, I stand and unfasten my bra while he works on his belt. “Leave the wristband on.”
“Get your ass in there, woman.”
Letting my bra fall from my finger, I move quickly into the bathroom and lean against the counter.
When he enters, he’s only wearing black boxer briefs. The muscles of his stomach are ripped, his biceps defined without effort, and his legs built by the perfect mix of strength and agility. His eyes narrow as he skims over my body. Through his gaze, he stakes claim before he even touches me. “No underwear, Mrs. Dalton?”
“I wanted to be ready for you. Don’t leave me waiting.”
His tongue drags over his lower lip, his hunger for me evident by the large bulge in his briefs. “I’m appreciating the view.”
I slip backwards onto the cold marble counter and lean back against the mirrored glass. “I want you to appreciate it up close and personal… with your mouth.”
“Fuck me,” he says, his voice slipping between desire and disbelief, a reminder of what we have together hitting us both. He says, “I fucking love your dirty mouth, Holliday.”
“You love my dirty mouth or you love to fuck my dirty mouth?”
“Both.”
“Then come closer.”
He drops his drawers and comes right up to me. “Your choice—fuck me or fuck my mouth first?
“I want to fuck your dirty mouth, but I want to fuck you more. Get off the counter and turn around.”
I continue to stare into his eyes for a few more seconds before moving quickly into place. His phone is set down on the counter next to me. “Pick a song.”
Sliding the phone in front of me, I start scrolling his playlists wanting a new soundtrack. I find the song quickly—“Stay” by Thirty Seconds to Mars.
His hands warm my backside as he presses his erection against me. Leaning forward, he takes the phone back just as the song begins to play. “I’m not gonna listen to fucking Jared Leto when I’m fucking you.” Turning to the side, I see him scrolling on the screen. The song begins and I smile, making sure to look down so he doesn’t see me laughing at him. The Resistance’s remake of the song starts playing. They were asked to perform it for an awards show, so it’s the live version and so hauntingly sexy.
Looking into the mirror, I wait for his eyes to reflect mine. When they do, I say, “For the record, I don’t fantasize about anyone but you, Dalton.”
The feel of him ignites my body, flames beginning to flick on the inside. I wiggle, unable to wait any longer. Kisses are placed on my shoulders, and he whispers, “Be patient, Baby.”
“I want you.”
“I want you too.”
My heart begins racing, a pressure poised at my entrance. His eyes stay on mine until he thrusts forward, inside me, causing me to drop my head and hold on tight. Our connection is intense and my mouth drops open as he moves even deeper—solid and steady, filling me and reminding my body who it belongs to.
My hands are flat and I look up, wanting to watch as he takes me, owns me, conquering me entirely. Uncontrolled thoughts escape into words. “I love being married to a rock star!”
Dalton stops moving and a laugh breaks free. The right side of his mouth slides up and I realize what I just said. But right when I gain the nerve to look up, he thrusts again. Flat palms anchor me while I wish I could dig my nails into the bed to hold on. His hands cover the tops of mine to ease the power of his body’s thrusting against me. My breath is shorted and I drop my head down, wanting to appreciate every sensation.
He stops and I catch my breath. “Open your eyes, Angel.”
Pushing up when I open my eyes, I lock my elbows to hold myself steady. His hands slide slowly up my arms, traveling the length until he takes hold of my shoulders. “Are you ready?”
With my hazels still locked on his greens, I analyze his mood. He’s calculated and sexy and I want him to devour me whole. “I’m ready. Are you?”
In one fast move, my head hits the mirror as he pounds into me.
Holding tight to my shoulders he fucks me hard. “Dalton!” I cry out, needing all of it, all of him, taking it all and loving the feel of him more. My knees weaken and deep inside I begin to uncoil.
I watch him as I push myself closer to that edge where reality meets ecstasy. His jaw tightens, highlighting the rigid angles that wrap around his chin. There’s a vein that I only see in two settings—on stage singing and when we’re fucking. He drives me to want more, so I move against him. His fingers dig into my hips, one hand directly over the tattoo he loves to trace when we’re sleepy.
One hand moves between us and two fingers find the spot he knows will send me over again and he rubs. My world bends, perpetuating the gratification. “Oh God! Dalton!” I collapse onto the counter, too tired to hold myself up. My hips are grabbed and he hits my soul in places I forget exist until he touches them, bringing me to life again.
He shudders, moaning my name as he comes. With his body molded to the back of mine, he licks a spot on my shoulder at the back of my neck. Desire getting the best of me again, through breathy whispers, I say, “I want you to mark me.”
“You’re too beautiful to damage.”
I open my eyes and lift up to find his on mine in the mirror again. “I’ll heal, but I want a piece of you while you’re gone.” He smiles, and I add, “Guess that makes me a groupie after all.”
“A groupie is a one-sided infatuation.” Bringing me upright with his arms around me, he lifts me up and carries me into the bedroom. He sets me down on the bed and lies down next to me. I maneuver over him, wanting to have him beneath me. I rest my head on his shoulder, my bare body on top of his. Rubbing my back, he says, “There’s nothing one-sided about us, Angel. We fuck hard, but we love harder.” I hear the sincerity in his voice, feeding my soul. I close my eyes, enjoying this time together.
I wake up before the alarm goes off. His dark brown hair is messy from sex. Just the way I like it most. Seeing him now and having a nap were enough to renew me. A room service order is placed before I start the shower. Once under the warm water, I close my eyes. It feels good to be drenched by the spray. As my body relaxes, so does my mind.
Over the course of our relationship, I’ve learned that taking a shower is like a beacon, calling Dalton to me. He steps into the shower behind me and kisses my shoulder. “Hi,” he says as the water hits him.
“Hi.”
“So what did you have to promise Tracy to let you skip out of work?”
I turn in his arms, sharing the warm water. “I have to leave tomorrow morning and work through the weekend.”
“Is it worth it?”
Lifting up on my toes, I kiss his chin. “More than worth it.”
The grin on his face is small and completely charming. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” I trade places with him and shampoo my hair as he soaks his. “You ready for tonight? You have to leave in forty-five minutes.”
He nods with his eyes closed. The water rains down on him and I see his body relax under the heat. “You coming?”
“I just did. Twice. Thank you for that.” I poke him in the abs, which are rock hard, and laugh as I change places with him and start rinsing my hair.
He tries to hide it, but I see his smile. “You’re welcome. I still owe you for way more.”
“After what we just did, I say we’re even.” His voice is low, calm, and deep. His lips are pressed behind my ear while his hands roam over my breasts. My head falls back on his shoulder and my eyes close, enjoying the intimacy.
When his fingers slide smooth like water between my legs, I whisper, “I can’t. I think I need a little recovery time.” I turn around and his hand graces my cheek, tilting my head up. His hair is flat down, drenched, water droplets running over his face and down his body. “I only need a short reprieve.”
With a sly grin, out of nowhere he asks, “Why do you love being married to a rock star?”
“What?” I reply, not understanding where this is coming from.
“You said you love being married to a rock star… you said that earlier.”
“I remember now,” I say, giggling. “I love it because everything people hear about rock stars is true—the passion, the highs, the lows, and the fantastic sex. And despite living in the eye of a hurricane, we’ve managed to weather more than our fair share of obstacles in our way.”
“We’re stronger than the will of the universe trying to keep us apart.”
He’s right. “We’re bonded by more than a marriage license.” Our hearts are connected on a level that can never be put into words.
Like the song we both sing in our hearts, he says, “Among the hardness of the world is the softness of home. Our bodies make a melody that’s become our anthem.” He moves closer and runs his nose down the length of my jaw, then comes back and kisses my lips. Our kisses are love and gentleness, packed with intentions for more.
“I’ll always love you,” I whisper relaxing in his arms, somewhere between euphoria and lucidity. I’m tired, but I never tire of his hands on me. Dalton caresses my body much like he caresses his guitar, sensual, and careful, playing by heart.
“Why do you love me?” he asks, his voice a whisper in my ear as I close my eyes.
“Because you gave me the fairytale when I didn’t believe in them.”
His lips find that softest spot behind my ear and he lingers before gently placing a kiss. “Don’t ever leave me.”
I turn in his arms so I’m facing him. Stroking the backs of my fingers against the rough scruff of his cheek, I reply “I could never leave you. You’re a part of my soul. Besides, it’s you who’s leaving me.”
The water is shut off and towels are grabbed. He says, “Not by choice. Duty calls, but I’d change it all if you asked.”
How can I not be madly in love with this man? “The life of a musician doesn’t quit just because his wife gets lonely.”
Taking my hand, he leads me back to bed. Despite the dark hour, I feel the light, the hope, in his words. He holds me tighter. “I’d change everything for you.”
“I love who you are. I don’t want you to change.”
“We’re everlasting,” he says, closing his eyes.
Everlasting—we have that one word engraved inside our wedding bands. I don’t say anything else, letting him rest before his flight in the morning. This time tomorrow I’ll be alone, something I’ve come to dread about his band, The Resistance, touring. Johnny Outlaw, the lead singer of the band and my husband Jack Dalton’s alter ego, will be thrown to his adoring fans and I’ll be here stuck watching his life play out online over the next few months. I’ll live life, run my business, and count the days until his return. Not only for him so he doesn’t worry, but to hold onto who I am without him, to stay sane.
“I love you,” I whisper to his shoulder as he holds me tight.
When our breathing evens, I gently move to the side where I find my favorite spot anywhere—pressed against his body with his arm around me. He kisses the top of my head and sighs as if all the world’s burdens have escaped him. We find solace together.
I just hope we can keep this peace when we’re not.