She shrugs. “A symphony, a theater, a stadium…the where isn’t important. I want the lights, the audience, and the music. I guess I have a lot to figure out, and if it turns out that the degree is necessary, I’ll get it.” She holds up the business card and smiles.
“That’s why you played Islamey.”
“Backup plans are good to have. You never know. My current instructor might set his eyes on another student.” She smirks. “High school teachers have a way of falling fast and ignorantly in love.”
My hand flexes, burning to slam against her ass. “You amaze me.”
She grins. “I try.”
As we meander into the next building, I give her a proper tour. Her interest in the campus focuses on where I spent my time rather than how the facilities would help her if she ever changed her mind. She seems well and truly at peace with her decision.
Since it’s the weekend, the halls are dark and vacant. Still, we maintain a professional distance, walking side by side as I point out my favorite stomping grounds and share memories about the people I hung out with.
“I don’t get it.” She follows me into a dead-end hallway. “I’ve known you for eight months, and I’ve only ever heard you play old-guy rock on the piano.”
“Old-guy rock?”
“Guns N’ Roses, Megadeth, AC/DC… I mean, that’s your jam, so how did you handle the classical training here if you’re not into it?”
“I was just about to show you.”
At the end of the empty hall, I wiggle the handle on the last door. It opens, and I herd her inside, shutting and locking it behind me.
My hand hits the light switch in reflexive memory, and the overhead fluorescent buzzes to life.
The spartan, soundproofed practice room is big enough to hold the upright piano and two people. She glances around and gives me a confused look.
I lean against the upright. “I spent every day in here, practicing the songs I enjoyed without the rigid instruction of my mentors. I sat right there with my headphones on and my playlist on repeat. This is where I fell in love with metal on the piano.”
She runs a hand along the covered keyboard, inching toward me. “Every day? On this piano?”
“Yes.”
Slipping off the jacket, she drapes it over the bench. “Alone?”
“Of course.”
She stops just out of arm’s reach. “Did you ever bring a girl in here?”
“Just one.” My cock twitches. “Her panties are in danger of being ripped off.”
“I’m not wearing panties.”
Fuck, I’m hard. How did I miss her bare pussy when she was straddling me in the limo?
I glance at the door and remember I locked it.
A wicked grin twists her lips. “Did you jack off in here?”
I cough through a laugh.
She steps in front of me and grips my tie. “You did.”
I totally did.
She glances down at the piano, nibbling on her smile. “I bet you squirted on the keys. I wonder if there’s still—”
“You want to see my come?” I grip her wrist and hold her palm against my erection, desperate for relief. “You can watch it drip out of your cunt.”
My other hand goes to her hair, tangling in the thick strands as I pull her mouth to mine.
The kiss slips past gentle and plunges straight into hard, aggressive strokes. Her fingers squeeze me through the slacks, spurring my hips into motion, rocking against her hand as my tongue lashes and licks in her mouth. I bite down hard on her bottom lip and holy fucking hell, her nails dig into my balls.
I spin her toward the carpeted wall, chest to chest, and pin her arms above her head. She gazes up at me, her lips pouty, sensual, and swollen with lust. It’s that sexy-as-hell look she always gives me after I’ve kissed her into a daze. The kind of kiss that makes her entire body heavy and limp with desire.
Grinding my cock against her pussy, I trail my tongue along her neck. “Remember the first time we were in this position?”
She arches her neck for my mouth. “In the hall on the first day of school. Not quite the same position.”
“I wanted to restrain you just like this and bite your smart mouth.” I sink my teeth into her bottom lip, mercilessly, and release her.
Her breaths quicken. “You scared the shit out of me that day.”
“And now?”
“You scare me in a different way.” She kisses the spot over my heart, making my pulse race. “In the best way.”
“Flatten your palms against the wall.”
As she follows my order, I lean my weight against her, confining her while I tackle my belt, fumbling to loosen it. Christ, I need her. I’m shaking with the urgency to bury myself inside her and thrust hard, fast, and unapologetically. I don’t even care where we are.
I shove my slacks and briefs to my thighs and fist my dick, stroking with one hand as I yank up her dress with the other.