“The world unravels like time—second by second, slipping like sand through your fingers.” ~ Johnny Outlaw
His mind is messing with him.
Dalton’s tentativeness with me is felt in his light touch. I want him. I want him to touch me like he always does, like he can’t get enough of me. I kiss his neck, my bare chest against his as we try to overcome earlier events. “Come back to me,” I whisper.
“I’m here.” His voice is distant, his eyes hold emptiness. I avoid the heavy and try to recover and reconnect. The fabric of his jeans is rough as I straddle him on the chair. Whiskey is tasted as our tongues mingle and the coarseness from the shadow of his beard pricks under my fingertips as I hold him close. Looking him in the eyes, I close mine and lean in to kiss him again. “Don’t just touch me. Feel me, Dalton. I’m right here. I need you to touch me like you mean it.”
“I do mean it.”
Sex isn’t going to solve our problems. We need to talk. Leaning back just a hint, I kiss the side of his mouth where it was split during the fight. “Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Was he hurt?”
“I fucking hope so.”
When heaviness conspires to ruin our time, I smile while tilting my head. “Rest assured, he does nothing for me.”
“He’s a model. He’s designed to do something to you.”
“He’s not you.”
There’s a flicker of life in his eyes, bringing him back to me. Our mouths come together quickly as he lifts me up and carries me to the large canopy bed. He sets me down carefully and pops the snap of my jeans. As the zipper is dragged down, his gaze travels over my body, taking me in. I slide my hands down over my hips when my jeans are removed, then up his to unbutton his jeans. With the fly open, he drops them and steps out. In only our underwear, we move up the bed and start kissing.
Kissing Dalton is sensual and always laced with more behind its innocence. His hand slinks between us and touches me over the lace of my underwear. Back and forth he rubs lightly. “Harder,” I whisper, my resolve to take this slow abandoned along with my bra.
The pressure intensifies and I dip my head back to enjoy the sensation. My neck is met by his tongue as it drags up the length before his lips meet under my jaw and he sucks. If he wants to leave a mark, I’ll let him, needing it as much as he does. Dalton sits up just as I’m about to give in entirely and lose myself. He’s left me wet and wanton and that makes me snarky. “What the fuck?”
A God forsaken roguish grin slides into place as he takes the sides of my panties and asks, “Do you want to keep these?”
I know better than to pause when we play these games, but I do anyway just to prove a point. “Last chance,” he warns, no smile to be seen.
“I’ll take my chan—” My thong is ripped from my body before I finish speaking, the burn on my sides, stinging with desire.
Dalton is direct in his wants and when his head goes between my legs, I know he wants to please me. He’s always been amazing about more than satisfying my needs first. A light pressure spreads my legs further apart as his hands warm the insides of my knees. The heat of his breath hits my sensitivity and I squirm while gripping his hair between my fingers. “Babe…”
His hand goes flat over my stomach, holding me in place while his mouth makes love to me. I want to scream, wanting him deeper than he can go… “Fuck me, Dalton.”
He continues for a second, then looks up. “I want to finish.”
“I can’t take it. I need you inside me!” Boxers are discarded and he’s above me positioning himself within seconds. When he sinks inside, my eyes close and my mouth opens. “I missed you. I missed this.”
Kissing my neck, he sighs as the sensation strikes him causing him to exhale heavily. “I miss you, all of you. All the fucking time.”
“Soon,” I say, “we’ll be together again, soon.” Our bodies move slower than before as we begin to make love. Each kiss caresses my lips and my heart equally. His love flows through my veins giving me life as our bodies slide against each other’s until he’s panting against my collarbone, begging for release. It hits him hard before hitting me and we fall together.
We lie there a minute or two, maybe three before I whisper, “Dalton?”
“Yeah?”
“Even when we’re falling apart emotionally, we find our way back physically. But I want you to know that we’re more than sex.”
“We’re infinite.”
“Yes,” I repeat, “infinite.” With my arm over his chest and my leg across his, I realize we really are infinite. Our love has no boundaries. “There is no beginning to us—”
“And no end. We’re infinite. Always.” Our fingers entangle together and I close my eyes.
But then I sit up suddenly. “Hey,” I say getting his attention. His eyes are tired, his expression matching as he yawns.
“What?”
“I have a flight in the morning.”
“Stay.”
“I can’t. I have to pack and I have a dinner meeting with a greeting card company tomorrow night.”
He tugs my arm and I give in, falling down next to him. His body maneuvers over mine and he says, “But I want you to.”
“I wish I could. I want to…” I close my eyes, feeling guilty denying him the only thing he asks of me. “I can’t,” I whisper, a slight plea heard and I open my eyes. “I rescheduled once already when the shoot got pushed.”
“It’s almost three in the morning.” There’s a resolve in his tone that I’ve gotten used to lately. He doesn’t try as hard anymore, knowing I can’t drop everything for his schedule. I hate it. It makes me feel terrible. He asks, “You want to go back to where you’re staying?”
Resting my chin on his chest, I say, “I have to. We’re leaving for the airport at eight.”
He moves over and sits, then drops his feet to the ground and stands. Shaking his head, he mumbles, “One day our lives will sync.”
“One day.” When I get out of bed, I add, “You stay and get some rest.”
“I’m not sending you across town in a cab at three in the morning by yourself. I’m coming with you.”
“Is the time of day the only reason?”
His eyes, the green seemingly darker than usual, land on me. I stop and sit on the end of the bed, waiting to hear what he has to say. He looks down mulling his answer before he speaks. “You think I wouldn’t leave this life for you, as if you’re second to a life that feels greater than it should be. But I would. I would for you. So the time of day really has nothing to do with it.”
He doesn’t have to say anything more and knowing him, he probably won’t. He’s made his feelings known so he won’t drag it out for the sake of it. I watch as he gets dressed, in awe of his ability to not just say what I need to hear, but to make my soul feel his love. “I love you.”
“I know.”
I scoff through a wide smile and stand up to get dressed. “Leave your ego behind, Han Solo.”
“You’re very good with the trivia.”
“That line from Star Wars is very memorable.”
“How about me?” he says, twisting my hips back and forth.
I touch his nose. “I couldn’t forget you even if I wanted to,” I tease. “But luckily for you, I don’t want to.”
A sweet kiss is given before he says, “We should get going.”
We walk into the apartment thirty minutes later. I lead him to the bedroom and we go about getting settled in. I’m about to get undressed, but before I have time to put on pjs, I’m distracted by Dalton. He’s standing in front of the wall of windows staring out. His voice is calm and deep, fitting for the early morning hour. “I’ve been working on a song.”
“What’s it about?” I whisper not wanting to disturb the tranquility.
I climb onto the bed and under the covers, sitting and bringing my knees up to my chest. “We’re surrounded by people all the time, but some days, I feel isolated, alone.”
“Touring can be a lonely endeavor. You’re with your friends, the band and crew, but you’re away from the ones you love.”
His head goes lightly to the window when he leans against it. “I have everything everyone wants in life.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?” he asks, peeking back at me.
“Do you have everything you want in life?”
Standing upright, his shoulders full of pride as he looks back out the large window. “I have an amazing life.”
“Are you telling me or reminding yourself?”
“Both.” He sighs, the weight of the world suddenly burdening him. “I’ve been thinking about taking a break…”
“A break from music or from the band?” I ask, hating that I only seem to have questions instead of reassurances for him.
He looks over his shoulder and I can see the conviction in his eyes. “I can’t live without music.”
I suck in a quiet breath, my heart stilling until I finally exhale. “Do what makes your heart happy, Dalton.”
“I know one person who makes my heart happy.” The weight of our words seem to have disappeared. His hair is messy, his shoulders relaxed, and a grin that few people ever get the chance to see turns up the corners of his mouth. This is Jack Dalton. No pretenses or personas. JD from Elgin, Texas. “We could leave all this behind and disappear for a while.” His eyes are lit up as if that’s a real possibility.
But running away from a company I love doesn’t sound appealing. “I like what I do. I’m good at what I do. I can’t just run off and leave it.”
He looks away. “I was just kidding around anyway.” I can tell he’s hurt, but I don’t know how to fix his pain. I want to see that small town, all-star smile again. Leaning back against the headboard, I watch, enjoying his many different sides. He’s the most complicated man I’ve ever known. I guess my expression gives me away because he asks, “What? What are you looking at?”
“You.”
He cocks his head to the side and grins. “You want me to do it, don’t you?”
I do so badly. “Yes.” I bat my eyelashes.
Pretending to be put out, he rolls his eyes and then fastens his jeans. “It’s only because you’re naked under those covers and so fucking hot that I’ll do this for you. You know that, right?”
“I know,” I reply easily, putting on an act of my own like this isn’t the best ever. He starts to get into position, but I interrupt and request, “Without the shirt please.” His low chuckle makes me giggle as I sit up for a better view.
“Without the shirt it is.”
The T-shirt goes flying, hitting me in the face. I pull it down over my nose and inhale, then cough. “Ew, this one is dirty.”
“No shit. I haven’t had my laundry cleaned this week,” he says, laughing.
“Fine. Message received loud and clear. I’ll send some clean shirts.”
He winks at me. “Thanks.”
“You know… if I didn’t though, that might help keep the groupies away.”
“Believe me. A dirty shirt won’t deter a determined groupie.”
My sagging shoulders kind of say it all. But he touches my chin, tilting my head up to look at him again. “We’re infinite. Remember that.”
With his tattoos on display, my eyes trace over the hard lines of his chest, his defined arms, and land on that V made of muscle and hours of working out. Following it down, I land on the top of his jeans, then look back up at his eyes. “You ready?” he asks.
I nod.
His hands go to the floor, his body in push-up position. His feet slowly start to come up off the ground. Stopping at just about a thirty degree angle, I exhale louder than I like. “Amazing,” I say, admiring him. His body is perfection, his tattoos cradling muscles that beg to be touched.
His feet drop suddenly and he pops up. Clapping his hands together, he says, “Was it good for you?”
“Orgasmic.” Standing up to stroke his ego… and his hard muscles, I slide my hands over his shoulders and around his neck. With a kiss to the skin under his jaw, I whisper, “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you.”
“What makes me so special?”
Moving my hand downward, I take his in mine and place it on the curve of my naked waist. “Everything,” I breathe.
I’m swept up in his arms as we move across the room. The light is low in the room, the blinds wide open, the floor-to-ceiling window our destination. Leaning against a small wall that juts out about a foot, I angle my hips forward until I’m pressed to him and we’re kissing.
Sex in the window is daring, but I’m not worried. We can’t be more than figures, silhouettes to any onlookers. Sliding his hand from the side of my face down my body, he grips my hip and says, “Turn around.”