Undone, Volume 2 (9 page)

And the show tonight
shouldn’t exactly be torture. After all, I did have a back stage
VIP pass to see my favorite band. How bad could it be?

§

The huge, intimidating
roadie let me into Levis Stadium through an inconspicuous though
heavily-monitored side entrance. A crowd of 75,000 was expected to
attend tonight. I couldn’t even wrap my mind around a number like
that, every one of them screaming and shouting for Ash Black. The man
I was being led to go meet. I kept my feet on the ground, but my head
spun.

After the roadie got
intel through his earpiece, he wound me through hallways and down to
a thick door where he gave two, quick knocks. I wondered if that was
how he always did it, or if it was a secret code. I half-expected him
to whisper into his earpiece “the falcon has landed.”

The door opened and Ash
stood in the entrance, looking tall, dark and sexy as hell in his
trademark all black. A faded t-shirt clung to his muscles in all the
right ways and he wore a big belt buckle and scuffed boots with black
jeans on his long, lean legs. He looked at me, concern and smoky
adoration in his dark brown eyes. Fuck, this was going to be harder
than I’d told myself.

“You came!” he
exclaimed, taking my hand and leading me into the room with him. We
were alone in it. “I like the jeans.” He took me in, nodding his
head in appreciation.

“I know I should have
let them dress me up more.” I shrugged my shoulders, feeling like I
should apologize. The stylists had first attempted to put me into a
skimpy one-shoulder number that would have flashed my goods with
every step. God forbid I should drop something and have to bend over.
I couldn’t imagine the photos that would show up on the Internet
within seconds. No, I steered them toward a t-shirt and jeans, way
more fitted than what I usually wore but still in my comfort zone.
They did talk me into some killer boots, though, all studded up with
kick-ass metal heels. I’d like to see Connor proposition me in
these. I could probably step right on him and squash him like a bug.

“I like you exactly
as you are.” I smiled at his compliment, reminding myself he was
playing his part and doing it well.

The room didn’t have
windows, underground in the gigantic arena, but it still felt
spacious and bright with high ceilings and tons of lighting. And in
the middle of the room sat my favorite furnishing: a gorgeous,
gleaming, Steinway grand piano.

As appealing as Ash
looked, I had to admit, that piano came a close second. I wanted to
run my fingers all over both of them.

“Ooh!” I walked
over to it, grateful I could give in to at least one of my
temptations. “This is so gorgeous! Is it OK if I…?” I placed my
hand on the seat and looked up at him.

“Of course! Yeah!”

I settled in on the
piano bench and he joined me, sitting close enough that I could feel
the friction of his thigh against mine. The piano was a full six feet
long, the ebony and ivory keys stretching out like a playground. My
fingers leapt at the invitation, playing the first thing that came to
mind, a bright, lively Mozart allegro climbing up into the upper
octaves, then down into the lower, taking joy in the full, wide range
of notes before me.

“Damn, you’re
good!” Ash marveled as I played. I smiled and almost stopped. I
didn’t want him to think I was showing off. But this piano was too
amazing, perfectly tuned, each key responding so perfectly, even the
acoustics in the room made each note ring out clear and celebratory.
I didn’t know how they’d designed that in what essentially was an
underground bunker, but I guessed with the right amount of millions
you could do anything.

“I love this piano!”
I beamed at him.

“I love how you
play!” He smiled right back, then joined me on the keys playing
something I didn’t recognize, yet haunting and lovely. A melody
that would stay with me, I could already tell.

“What is that?” I
asked, my fingers instinctively finding notes down a few octaves to
compliment and underscore his own.

“Something I’ve
been messing around with.” He closed his eyes, building the melody,
deepening it into something more mellow and gorgeous.

“For The Blacklist?”
I asked. It didn’t seem like the type of music they usually played.

He shrugged. “I’m
not sure.”

“I didn’t even know
you played piano.” I’d seen a glimpse of a gorgeous piano in the
living room of his house right in front of an amazing view of the
Golden Gate Bridge, so I guessed I could have assumed. But a lot of
people had pianos just for show, and he always played guitar with his
band.

“I don’t on stage,”
he agreed. “I like to be able to move around when I perform.”

He did put on quite a
show. I had to admit, I felt a flutter low in my belly at the thought
of getting to watch him again tonight, so close, right backstage. But
it didn’t help matters to feel star struck about Ash. That wouldn’t
help me preserve my businesslike demeanor.

“Oh, I almost
forgot.” He stood up and went over to the corner of the room and
rummaged behind a few things. When he returned, he had a bouquet of
red roses. “I’m so sorry about what happened back at my place.”
He handed them to me.

Oh no, this wasn’t
good. They were gorgeous, about two dozen. They smelled divine. I
loved roses.

“Thanks, Ash. I, um…”
I didn’t know what to say about what had happened with Connor. I
guessed this was my cue to say it was all OK, but really it wasn’t.

“He’s an ass,”
Ash agreed with my unspoken words. “I’ve known him since we were
both 13, and we’ve been through a lot so he’s like a brother to
me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s an ass.”

I shrugged. “I guess
we just live in different worlds. And I’m only visiting yours for a
few weeks. So, it’s not like it matters.” I thought I did a
pretty good job of playing it cool, sounding neutral and aloof.

“Ana, I want you to
know, I’m really sorry.” He brought his hand to my shoulder,
caressing a strand of my hair between his fingers. That small touch
alone sent tingles down my spine. “I won’t let him treat you that
way again.”

I nodded, swallowing.
This close, I could smell his masculine scent, raw and potent and
intoxicating. I rested the flowers down gently to the floor and
turned back to the piano keys. Those I could touch.

“Play me that melody
again?” I asked, looking down at the keyboard, not at him.

After a brief pause, he
dropped my hair and returned his fingers to the keys. Better, but not
much. I could still feel the heat of his thigh, acutely aware of the
strength of him as we sat, starting to play together. I closed my
eyes, focusing on the music, the notes we blended together. There,
right there I could feel where he needed to make it go deeper, take
it down a bit with a minor key, add some tension. I played it the way
I heard it, in my head, a variation on his theme, and he picked right
up on it, playing it along with me, then taking it off in his own new
direction.

“That’s so much
better,” he marveled as we played, looking at me like I was a
genius. “How did you just do that?”

I smiled at him. He had
to know how, he was a musician, too. Music was a language all its own
and here we were speaking it together. I had to admit, it felt fun to
play free like this, letting the feelings of the notes govern the
music we made instead of reading off a sheet. All of my training had
been so strictly classical. This type of creative play still felt
vaguely naughty to me.

“What’s that smile
on your face?” he asked, catching my chin with his thumb. “You
look like you’re up to something.”

Blushing, I guessed I’d
shown my feelings on my face. Figured. “I’m used to playing
classical music,” I confessed. “This feels much more…”

“Free?” He dipped
his mouth down as he spoke, kissing me gently at the side of my neck,
just underneath my ear. My breath hitched at the feel of his lips, so
soft and yet so masculine. “Like you’re letting go?” His tongue
swept up and found my ear, licking along the edge, catching my
sensitive lobe between his teeth to lick and suck. My hands pressed
into the piano keys. I couldn’t make myself break away. It felt so
good, but I shouldn’t touch him. That would be the end of me.

“Like you’re
letting yourself feel instead of think too much?” His voice
whispered, husky and seductive as his hands traveled down my
shoulders, down to my waist and slowly made their way along my legs.
Traveling the length of my jeans, he stroked my thighs, parting my
legs. The heat built within me almost instantly, my body responding,
wanting, instantly aflame for him.

“Ash,” I murmured,
tilting my head toward him and meeting his lips with mine. His kisses
felt like nothing I’d ever experienced. I could drown in them and
never have a moment’s doubt, like fire and rain all together,
consuming and delicious and never enough. I kept kissing, drinking
him in, our tongues tangling, stroking, meeting, teasing, my hands
intertwined in his hair, his now at my waistband.

“Ana, I need…” He
brought his finger right up to my sex, pressing against the seam of
my jeans, giving me a taste of what he could do. I hissed,
half-closing my eyes, my clit already so swollen, my sex slippery
with need. He’d already showed me how good he could make me feel
with his finger on me, up inside of me. I knew he could have me
coming in seconds, flat.

He unbuttoned the top
of my jeans, unzipped my fly. “Let me make you feel good, Ana.”
He kissed my throat, licking me and gently easing me back onto the
padded piano bench. I rested on my elbows, drunk on his kisses, his
touch. He kneeled at the edge of the bench, bringing his hands to the
waistband of my jeans and pulling them down my hips. Bringing his
fingers directly to my soaked panties, he pressed the silky fabric
against my sex.

“Ah!” I cried out,
sinking back onto my elbows, tipping my head back, my chin up as
sensation engulfed me.

“Let me taste you,
Ana,” he murmured to me, easing my panties down my hips as he kept
stroking, circling, first through the fabric then directly against my
needy pussy. “So wet for me, baby,” he whispered as he saw me,
“so perfect.”

I couldn’t form even
the beginning of a thought as he brought his mouth to my sex, tasting
me for the first time with a long, slow lick. He groaned, deep in his
chest and wrapped his large hands around my ass, gathering me closer,
as if he couldn’t get enough.

“So fucking sweet.”
He brought his head down again and began feasting on me like a
starving man, licking and sucking and eating me like he’d never
tasted anything he craved more. He growled as he sucked my clit,
making me buck with pleasure against him.

“Yeah, you like
that?” He sucked me again, right where I was most sensitive, and I
screamed out, bringing a hand down to clasp the leg of the piano
stool. I felt like I was going crazy, splitting apart with desire as
he began to tongue-fuck me, his thick, strong tongue plunging into my
wet hole, flicking up to my clit, then deep inside of me again.

“Ash!” I screamed
out, not caring if anyone heard, not wondering if anyone might walk
in, just wanting more, more of his tongue, his mouth, his teeth as he
teased my swollen bud, making me pant and gasp.

“What do you want,
Ana?” He teased me, his tongue now out of me, licking light and
sweet along my edges.

I groaned, so close, my
legs quivering in his grasp. He held me firm and wide, his fingers
pressing into my butt cheeks, his thumbs spreading the inside of my
thighs wide.

“Please,” I
pleaded. I needed to come, needed it so badly. He’d brought me so
close. I could feel the shudders building in my core, the pulsing
pressure deep inside of me ready to break up and wash over all of my
being.

“Please what?” he
asked, tongue up to flick my clit, giving it a spasm of pleasure, but
then pulling away. “You need to tell me what you want, Ana. I want
to hear you say it.”

“Please make me come,
Ash! Please.”

“That’s a good
girl.” He rewarded me with his full mouth all over my sex, a long,
strong lick down my center and up inside of me.

“Ash!” I screamed,
so close, feeling it build up inside of me. I clutched the leg of the
bench with one hand, but the other I fisted in his thick, black hair,
pushing his face into my pussy. “I’m, I’m—”

“Come for me!” he
growled into my pussy, then sucked my clit hard and full into his
wicked lips.

“Ah!” I screamed
and came, engulfed in waves of pleasure, pounding through me, lifting
my hips right off the bench. He milked every last drop of orgasm out
of me, drinking it down like he’d never get enough, licking and
sucking and savoring every quiver, every shudder.

A knock sounded on the
door. “It’s time!” A loud, male voice sounded from out in the
hallway.

Whoops. He’d probably
heard the whole thing.

Ash sat up between my
knees, a triumphant grin on his gorgeous face. “That’s going to
happen again. The second I get you alone after this show.”

Laughing, I sank back
against the bench, completely spent. He might kill me if he did that
to me again. “I don’t think I can take it, Ash.”

“Oh, we’re going to
push all your boundaries, Ana.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me up
to sitting, then standing, and helped me get dressed. “This is just
the beginning.”

Fully clothed but in a
daze, he led me down where the rest of the band was waiting.

“Where you been, old
man?” Connor looked at Ash, then at me and his gaze turned
accusatory. “Got it.” He nodded, tight-lipped.

“We ready?” Ash
asked the group and the other two answered with fist-bumps and
‘hell-yeah!’ Two out of three wasn’t bad, I guessed.