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I heard the tension in her voice and nodded. We navigated through the house and finally found Jim in the entertainment room at the bar. We thanked him for the party and said our goodbyes. He told Riley something about just telling her name at the door tomorrow night and we left.

"What was that all about?" I asked as we headed to the car.

"We're going to go see him and his band tomorrow," she said, a smile playing on her lips.

"Really?" I asked, the excitement in me rose instantly.

"Yeah," she said, smiling. We reached the car and she opened the door for me. She let go of my hand and that's when I realized that she had held onto my hand the whole time we had been exploring at the party and I hadn't felt the least bit uncomfortable. I was reluctant to lose her touch but knew she had to get into the car to drive.

"So where do you want to go?" I asked after she got into the driver's seat. She seemed to be in deep thought for a moment and then smiled. She pulled out her iPhone and made a quick phone call. She drove away from the beach house without a word, just that damn smile on her lips. Normally, being left clueless would frustrate me to no end, but somehow with Riley, I enjoyed being left at her mercy.

We pulled up to a security gate and one of the two security guards came out and approached the car. Riley opened her window and the guard had a smile on his face. She shook his hand and introduced him as "Marcus". After a brief exchange, he returned to the security booth and said something to the other guard. The security gate opened up for us to drive through, with Marcus in tow on some kind of all terrain vehicle. We drove up to a large Romanesque building and parked the car. Once again, Riley led me by the hand into the building after Marcus had unlocked the doors and let us in.

"Call me to lock up when you're done," he said to her and left us to roam through what I had concluded was a museum. Slowly we walked through the building from room to room, the only sounds echoing through the halls were the clicking of our heels on the marble floor. It was so quiet that we found ourselves involuntarily whispering as we peered at the various Greek statues and exhibits. We walked hand in hand, and whenever we stopped to look at something, our bodies would navigate together. And every time we were in close proximity like that and she'd turn to say something to me, the butterflies would stir in my stomach.

After we had ventured through the exhibits, we walked through a set of doors and ended up in a long garden with hedge-lined pathways and stone benches. In the middle was a fairly long rectangular reflecting pool that was surrounded by various plants, shrubs and bronze sculptures. Soft lights glowed from the covered walk ways along the length of the garden and gave it a warm and inviting feeling. We strolled leisurely through the garden and eventually settled down onto a bench that offered us a spectacular view of the city's lights.

"You know, for someone who doesn't date, you do know how to show a girl a good time," I told her. She hung her head but I could tell she was smiling. "Riley Carson, are you blushing?" I teased her and nudged her shoulder.

She looked up, grinning, her cheeks red. In the short while that I've known her, I have found her grins quite addictive.

"So how do you know Marcus, the security guard?" I asked, having decided to not tease or torment her further.

"We went to high school together," she answered. "His family runs a security company." She bit down on her bottom lip. and grew serious. "I'm sorry if I dragged you away from that party before you were ready to go."

"Something made you uncomfortable," I ventured a guess. Although she hid it well, I had sensed something was off. "It was the drugs wasn't it?"

She nodded. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not a prude and offended by it," she explained and then took a deep breath. "I'm a recovered addict. I did a lot of coke when I was in New York, and I hurt myself pretty badly one night so I came back to L.A. to...get better. I should have told you this sooner and I wouldn't blame you if you just want to go back to being friends -"

Her words were hurried now as the nervousness rose in her and I did what I felt would best convey my feelings for her. I closed my eyes and I kissed her. Her lips were soft and I could feel her surprise at what I had done, but then her lips relaxed and accepted my kiss. It was chaste, yet caused my heart to beat loudly in my chest and a distinctive tingling sensation south of my abdomen. I slowly pulled back, realizing how heavily I was breathing.

"I've been sober for six years and I promise you I have no intention or want to go back to that stuff," she whispered and I could see the sincerity etched in her face and eyes.

I nodded and smiled. "I believe you."

We spent the next while just talking and it slowly became clear to me that for all the confidence, sometimes arrogance, and self assured image that Riley projected, deep down inside, she had her own fears and insecurities just like everyone else. I found myself fortunate to have been given a glimpse into who the real Riley was and it only made me that much more attracted to her.

The place was already in full swing, loud music enveloping the establishment by the time we arrived. Riley had left the restaurant early to pick me up and we had arrived shortly after the scheduled showtime. Riley had a brief conversation with the security guard and the manager of the club and soon enough we were seated at a table close to the stage. As we sat down, we got a nod and smile from the man himself on stage. I had seen every James Miller film but I had never seen the man play music before. His band was a lot larger than what I had thought. He had no fewer than three singers, and a total of about twelve band members if I had counted correctly. He himself played guitar and bass guitar but did not sing. As Riley informed me, despite his artistic talents as an actor and guitarist, singing was not his strong suit. Besides, he simply saw himself as another band member, even though 99% of the audience who attended his shows were there because of him.

They were a polished band, their performance well rehearsed. They played various songs from all types of genres from classic rock and roll to jazz and blues and even disco. As we enjoyed the show, we ordered some more drinks and Riley excused herself to the restroom. The band wrapped up Stevie Wonder's Superstition and Jim traded his bass guitar for an electric guitar.

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have a special guest with us," he said into the mic. "Someone whom I consider a daughter to me. I used to spend a lot of time with her father who helped me with our musical endeavors and every time I'd jam with him, she would always sit and watch us, basically from the time she was in diapers. Eventually, she started playing with us, and quite frankly, I much prefer playing with her than her father. Despite her talents, she rebelled against her father and myself, refusing to become a musician - children are so ungrateful sometimes aren't they?"

I looked around to see if Riley was coming out of the restroom yet or not but saw no sign of her.

"Please give a warm welcome to the lovely Riley Carson," Jim added with a wave of his arm. I was shocked as I saw my date walk onto the stage, carrying a guitar. She gave a shy wave and then looked at me with a shrug and a smile. She strapped on the guitar she had been holding. She was a spitting image of Rod when he was much younger, with her haphazardly spiked blond hair, wearing jeans and a black sleeveless button shirt. Despite her shyness and hesitancy when she first stepped onto the stage, as she began to play, she looked more and more at home.

They began playing Beethoven's "Fur Elise" with a hip hop percussion flare to it and then they transitioned to "Flight of the Bumblebee". I was in awe of how perfectly synchronized Riley and Jim were playing on their guitars. Finally, they finished with Pachelbel's "Canon" with Riley, Jim and a third guitarist playing what was normally the different violins and it was absolutely amazing as evidenced by the audience's applause and whistles. I had had no idea that Riley played any music at all, but it shouldn't have surprised me as she was the offspring of a musical legend.

After the applause simmered down, she and Jim were now both seated on stools and sporting acoustic guitars playing a flamenco version of Simon and Garfunkel's "Cecilia" with the three singers in the band providing the vocals. As she played, the muscles in her right forearm flexed as she plucked the strings, and her long slender fingers floated over the frets effortlessly. She made it look so easy. After the song was over, she gave a wave and disappeared off the stage. The band wasted no time and started to play another song, calling everyone to get up out of their seats and start dancing. As the people began to crowd the dance floor, I saw Riley making her way over to me. When she reached me, she held out her hand and I took it, letting her pull me to the dance floor.

Riley

After the show, we were invited into a private party room with the band while they wound down and relaxed. We sat in one corner of the large booth in the room while Uncle Jim went to fetch us some drinks. Alex was sitting closely beside me, her hand on my thigh. "You are full of surprises aren't you?" she asked grinning. She had been basically grinning non stop since we had arrived at the show and I didn't want her to stop.

"If that's what it takes to keep that smile on your face," I told her.

"You make me smile," she said in return and leaned in, pressing her lips to mine. I forced myself to calm my racing heart and to just relax and enjoy the feel of her lips on mine. I felt her soft lips part and mirrored her movements as the tip of her tongue darted across my bottom lip.

"Ahem, ladies," Uncle Jim's voice announced his return. Breaking apart, we smiled sheepishly as he set our drinks down onto the table.

"Thank you," we said in unison and he smiled smugly at us as he sat down across from us.

"I could tell from the look on your face," he started, "that you had no idea this one could play, did you?"

Alex swallowed her sip of her wine and shook her head. "Not a clue. It was quite the pleasant surprise."

"It's the first time she's ever played in public," he continued and I felt my cheeks growing warm. "Stubborn one she is. I've asked her to play with us numerous times before but she's always told me to piss off. Not this time though. She agreed to do it for you."

Alex turned to look at me for confirmation and I shrugged and nodded.

"Thank you," Alex said, her hand that was on my knee now grasped my hand.

"You're welcome," I answered.

"Why haven't you ever played before? You're fantastic!" she asked and Uncle Jim questioned me silently with a raise of his eyebrows as well.

I took a drink of my beer. "I guess... I just don't want to be compared to my dad. I look enough like him, you know?" Then I added, jokingly, "Besides, I don't wanna steal the spotlight away from the old man. It's all he's got."

Alex and Uncle Jim laughed. "Alex," Uncle Jim said, turning his attention to my date. "I've no idea what you've done or how you did it, but thank you for coming into this girl's life. Whether you know it or not, you've made quite an impact on the lass."

"Have I?" Alex asked, looking from Uncle Jim and then to me with a teasing look in her eye.

"Aye," he answered for me.

Feeling affected by her gaze, I picked up my beer and held it up. "Drink up, old man. You're starting to get sentimental."

He raised his beer and tapped his bottle against mine, and then against Alex's glass and we drank a silent toast. I could tell Alex was cataloging what Uncle Jim had said, probably to interrogate me about it at another time.

"Now, Ms. McGovern," my surrogate uncle continued. "I've a project that's in the works next year for a autobiography and quite frankly, I can read a script like nobody's business but I'm shit at writing. So I've been looking for a writer to do a biography, but I have yet to meet anyone who's work I give a rat's ass about enough to trust to write my story. That was until yesterday, when I met you. I'm familiar with your work, and after seeing what you've done to this girl, I have an instinctual trust towards you. So what do you say, will you write my story?"

"I'm extremely flattered that you even know my work let alone trust me to proposition me," Alex responded, clearly surprised. "However, I'm not a book writer. I'm a freelance journalist and blogger. I've never written a book. In fact, I've no desire to write a book."

"Really? I thought that that was what all writers ultimately want to do - write a book," I joked.

"Not this writer," she answered and I could tell she was being completely honest.

"Why not?" I asked out of curiosity and not as though I was challenging her sincerity.

"My mother's penned over ten bestsellers in her career, five of which have been turned into films," Alex explained.

I nodded my understanding. Alex and I were more alike than I had thought. "You don't want to be compared to her."

Alex nodded. "I enjoy what I do, which is more of a commentary on life than anything. My mother's the story teller, not me."

"The sarcasm and wit that I've read from you leads me to believe you would be able to tell my story quite effectively," Uncle Jim tried to persuade her. "I've never written a book either but that's not going to stop them from paying me to do so. I'm not asking you to say yes or no right now. But please do think about it."

And she did pause and seemed to be thinking about it. She glanced at me and I just gave her a smile and a supportive squeeze of her hand. "I'll think about it," she finally told him and he grinned widely, knowing that half the battle had been won.

He jotted his phone number down onto a napkin and handed it to her. "Please let me know what you decide, and I hope it'll be a resounding 'yes'."

"By the way, Uncle Jim," I told him, realizing that he was the only one aside from Lenny who knew about us. "Our families don't know that we're seeing each other, so we'd appreciate your discretion." He nodded his understanding.

When we left the club, I wasn't sure where to go but I knew I wasn't ready to part with Alex just yet, even though it was already well after one in the morning. I abandoned all warnings in my head to take things slow and asked her if she wanted to go back to my place.

"Yes," was all she said with a look that made my heart stop and I had to remind myself to breath again when I got into the car.

When we got home, Lenny's car wasn't in the garage which meant there would be no chance of us walking in on her and Gabriella having sex. I gave Alex a tour of the house and we wound up in the family room. I poured us each a glass of wine and went to turn on the fireplace. She was about to sit down on the couch. "I wouldn't sit there," I told her, grimacing, recalling the last activity which had taken place on said couch the last time I had walked in on Lenny and Gabriella. She looked at me questioningly.

"Lenny and Gabriella," I began but was unable to tell her. "Let's just say that I have no idea if they've disinfected it yet."

She chuckled. "Got it." She smiled her understanding. She placed a cushion down onto the floor and sat on it, facing the fireplace, her back against the couch. Once the fire was started, I plugged my iPhone onto the stereo dock and turned on some soft flamenco music. I moved back and sat down beside her. We clinked glasses and took a drink.

"You have a lovely home," she complimented me.

"Thank you," I accepted. "It's big for one person. That's why I have a roommate. If my father had his choice, he'd have expanded his house and I'd stay in one end of the house."

"But?" she asked.

"But, I need my own space," I answered.

"For your hookups?" she asked teasingly but I felt that part of her was curious about my sexual past.

I shook my head. "I haven't brought anyone home in over ten years. It was always at their place or wherever, but never my place."

"Why?" she inquired.

"You can't exactly leave if you're at your own house," I answered. I saw her digest what I had just said and added, "I'm just being completely honest."

She nodded. "I appreciate that."

"I never did sleepovers either," I added. "This is my safe place...my own space...for me. Where I can just be me."

"And so you broke your own rule by bringing me here," she pointed out.

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I did."

"Thank you," she said quietly. I wanted to lean in and kiss her, to kiss her mouth, her neck, her chest, her breasts, her body. But I held back. Was she ready for all that?

"I need to ask you something," she said, not meeting my gaze.

"Sure," I said and finally she looked at me.

"Why...I...," she stammered. She took a deep breath and then exhaled. "Are you attracted to me?"

"Since the first day we met," I confessed.

"Then why..." she began and then paused to take another quick breath. "We've kissed twice and both times, I initiated it. Have you been holding back?"

I nodded. She was wondering why I wasn't being physical with her. It felt refreshing to be with a woman who wasn't afraid to tackle questions or issues head on instead of one who expected me to know if something was wrong. Even from the first time we sat and had a conversation upon the hills after I took her for a ride on my bike, she was direct in asking me about myself. I appreciated her not playing the typical dyke drama head games.

"I'm not sure how to explain it but I'll try," I started. "I've been with a lot of women, some of whom I didn't even really care to know their name. But I care about you and I don't want to do anything that you're not comfortable with, and quite honestly, I'm at a loss as to what you're ready for so I don't want to assume. And I don't want to take things lightly or for granted, if that makes any sense." I was struggling with my thoughts and how to convey my feelings. She took my wine glass and placed hers and mine on the coffee table and turned back to me. She lifted a hand and placed it against my cheek, her hand warm and soft.

"Kiss me, Riley," she told me, a hint of a smile on her lips. I looked into her crystal blue eyes and I couldn't deny her request or my own want. I leaned in slowly, teasing both her and myself with my snail's pace but I wanted to relish the moment. My eyes fluttered closed and I inhaled the scent of her perfume. She smelled delicious. I touched my lips to hers gently. I had kissed a lot of women in my lifetime, but kissing Alex felt different. Her hand which had been cupping my cheek slid into my hair and her lips parted. My tongue slid into her mouth and her tongue welcomed me. Suddenly, it felt like all those kisses before Alex were simply practice to lead up to her.

She massaged my mouth with her tongue and lips and despite the throbbing between my legs, I focused on just kissing her and tasting her. The slow languid strokes of our tongues began to grow slightly faster with surer movements. I cupped her cheek with my hand while the other ran up and down along her arm. She wrapped her lips around my tongue and started sucking on it and I had to fight with every fiber of my being to not rip her clothes off.

She finally released my tongue and I had to break away from her for air. We were both breathing heavily.

"Where did you learn that?" I asked, breathlessly.

"You like?" she asked smiling smugly.

"Yeah," I answered, still laboring for breath.

Alex

I was quite satisfied with myself when I saw how affected she had become from my tongue teasing. I leaned into her again and her lips met mine, her tongue immediately searching for mine. It felt so different kissing a woman. There was no scratchiness of stubble or a beard, in fact, her skin was incredibly smooth and warm. And oh did she know how to kiss. I had had my reservations about how many women she had possibly kissed before me, but I no longer cared. All I knew was that with every stroke of her tongue against mine, I just wanted more of her. No man had ever aroused me this much through kissing.

Although the hunger was growing between us, her kisses were gentle and soft. I still had my hand tangled in her hair which was surprisingly quite soft. My other hand ran down along her bare arm which had found its way around my waist. She pulled me closer to her and I snaked my arm around her, finding a bare strip of flesh along her back, between her jeans and the hem of her shirt. She held me tight against her and her kisses were doing things to me that I had never imagined kisses could do. I felt the butterflies in my stomach and the fire between my legs and wondered if she was feeling the same way. Our lips parted, and we pressed our foreheads together

I opened my eyes and watched her slowly open her own. Her eyes were dark and she was catching her breath.

"I want you," she managed to breath out in a husky whisper. Her tone was not lustful, but rather held a raw honesty and vulnerability that I had never heard from her before.

Any reservations I had about being with another woman, never mind that woman being Riley Carson, were extinguished and there was only one thing left to say. "You have me."

She rose up and held out her hand to me. I took it and she pulled me up off the floor. We made our way upstairs to her bedroom, and as we walked up the stairs, my hand developed a mind of its own and reached out and slid its way under her shirt and grabbed a hold of the waistband of her jeans. When we got to the top of the stairs, she turned around and pinned me against the wall, her lips against mine. Again, I ran a hand into her hair and my other arm wrapped around her with my hand having snaked up her back under her shirt. She pressed herself flush against me and I felt my whole body light on fire. Our lips and tongues played, quickly becoming familiar with each other. Her arms were around my waist, and she slid one leg in between mine as she continued to pin me against the wall. I had to do all I could to not grind my hips against her thigh.

Thankfully, she pulled back and led me into the bedroom. I swore that had she continued to press into me in the wall, I would've wanted her to take me right there and then. Once in the bedroom, our lips met again and she slid her hands under my shirt and ran her hands along my sides and back. Her hands gently and patiently roamed over my flesh and I felt like my whole body was a live wire, ready to ignite. I couldn't resist any longer and so I slid my hands under her shirt, caressing her back and then her stomach on which I swore I felt some ripples.

She moved down to my neck, her soft lips and tongue searing my skin with kisses. Her hands slowly moved over my stomach and hands brushing the underside of my breasts and I felt myself arch into her, begging to be touched. She removed her hands from under my shirt and before I could protest, she lifted my shirt up and then off. She repeated with my camisole. Her lips were on my neck, collarbones and chest and finally her hands cupped my breasts, giving them a soft squeeze through my bra. Her mouth sought out mine again and I began to unbutton her shirt.

I walked backwards to the bed and sat down on it. She shrugged her shirt off her shoulders and I had to swallow hard at the sight in front of me. She had the faint outlines of a hard stomach and an unmissable and well defined "Apollo's belt". She was more toned and fit than any guy I had ever dated.

"Isn't there a saying to never trust a skinny chef?" I teased, my mouth practically watering at the sight before me.

"Skinny chefs are the only ones who'll fit into a restaurant kitchen," she told me with a smile and leaned over me. She reached down to the waistband of my jeans and looked into my eyes. "Can I?" she asked quietly.

The gentleness in her voice rendered me speechless and all I could do was nod. I reclined back onto the bed and she started to kiss my neck and down my chest. Her lips on my stomach were like flutters on my skin. She unbuttoned my jeans and eased them off my hips and legs. Her eyes raked over my partially nude body and when her eyes met mine, I saw desire in her now dark eyes.

"You are absolutely gorgeous," she said and I felt myself blush.

She laid down beside me and I turned to her, my mouth seeking out hers. I was already addicted to kissing her and the feel of her lips on me. She caressed my arm and the next thing I knew, she had unhooked my bra. Slowly she slid my bra off and with some maneuvering, it was soon tossed over the side of the bed. She planted random kisses along my neck and then a hand cupped one of my breasts. I moaned into her mouth as her thumb brushed over an erect nipple. Reflexively, I wrapped a leg over her hips, pushing my body closer to hers. I raked my nails over her abdomen, relishing in the feel her firm muscles. I ran my hand up her side and then across her back.

"I've never unhooked a bra off someone else before," I told her hesitantly as I was afraid I'd fail miserably.

"There's always a first time for everything," she whispered into my ear in between licks and sucks on my earlobe. "Just take your time."

I felt for the clasp on her bra and used my fingers to feel it out. Then with a couple flicks of the wrist, it was unhooked. "Yay!" I cheered triumphantly and she laughed. She rolled me over onto my back and removed her bra. She lowered herself onto me and we both let out a moan as our skin and breasts came into contact with one another. Lying on top of me, she had one leg resting in between mine and I was growing increasingly wet by the pressure of her thigh against my crotch.

She rested on her elbows on either side of head, her tongue endlessly exploring my mouth and vice versa. I ran my hands up and down her back and then finally slide my hands under the waist band of her jeans and felt the wide elastic band of her underwear. It didn't surprise me that she would wear boy shorts. I gave her ass a squeeze with both hands and reveled in the firmness of her backside. She started to plant kisses along my jaw and then my neck. Her hands had found my breasts and were teasing them mercilessly. Soon, her lips replaced her thumbs on my nipples and I felt like I had died and gone to heaven.

I reached around to her front and undid the button on her jeans and slid the zipper down. She rose up off the bed and slid the jeans over her hips, dropping them onto the floor. She stepped out of her jeans and returned to the bed, lying on top of me. I had spread my legs, welcoming her back and she nestled her hips perfectly in the vee of my legs. We laid there, kissing and enjoying the taste of one another but soon enough, the throbbing between my legs was too noticeable to ignore. Before I could say anything, she moved downwards and took a nipple into her mouth and I closed my eyes at the sensation of her lips and tongue on my breast. Her mouth was warm and her tongue was flicking over my nipple, and I swore I must have been soaking through my lace thong.

Her mouth tortured my breasts and nipples slowly as she took her time, lazily drawing random patterns with her tongue. My breathing was growing ragged and every time I saw a peek of her tongue over my nipples, I became more and more aroused. My hips were noticeably moving and grinding against her body and I was sure she knew I needed more. She licked and kissed her way down my stomach. As if to tease me, she skipped over my pubic region and kissed along my inner thighs as she slid lower. Just as I was about to voice my frustration with her teasing, I felt her mouth over my flesh, through my underwear. My hips bucked upward in reaction instantly. Her fingers slowly peeled the undergarment off my hips and she tossed them aside. With a feral look and a smirk, she dipped her head in between my legs and I felt her tongue on me. A moan escaped from my throat and I grasped the bed linens with my hands.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-16