“What about my place? We can go to my house.”
It had been a while since she’d dated anyone seriously and hadn’t been invited to a man’s house in a long time.
“The look of concern on your face is making me wonder what you’re thinking,” Clay said, his gaze penetrating.
As he helped her up into his SUV, she said, “I’m sorry. I’m probably overthinking everything. Actually, I’d love to go to your place.”
With him still standing in the open door of his SUV and her buckled into the seat, they were on the same eye level. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly. “Christina, I don’t just take random women back to my place.”
Grinning, she slid her lips over his face and kissed the underside of his jaw. “Nice to know I’m not just some random fiddler you picked up at the festival.”
He barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “Well, I’ve fantasized about asking my concert violinist girlfriend to come to my home, never imagining that I’d also ask a Celtic fiddler to do the same. Lucky for me, that it gets to be the same person.”
“I am, you know.”
“You are what?”
“The same person. Tiny’s outfit is just part of the act. But the music… it comes from deep inside. It’s why I gave the band their name.”
He settled into the driver’s seat and turned toward her. “What does the band’s name mean?”
“Song of my soul. Amhrán M'anama is Gaelic for song of my soul.”
She watched, mesmerized as his lips curved upward. His already gorgeous face morphed into something even more spectacular.
They drove for several miles, listening to classic ‘60s. “Okay, I’ve got to ask… what’s your favorite?”
She blushed and said, “You’re going to think it’s cheesy, but Elvis Presley’s Can’t Help Falling in Love With You.”
His head jerked to the side, eyes wide. “Didn’t expect that, but it’s a great song and a great rendition.”
“Why didn’t you expect that?”
“Because it was my mom’s favorite,” he said, his words hesitant. Glancing to the side, he asked, “Why that song?”
“I’m a sucker for a deep, male voice that resonates and words that touch my romantic heart. Elvis. The Righteous Brothers’ Unchained Melody. You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling.”
“Gary Puckett and the Union Gap—”
“Oh, my God, yes!” she exuded. “All those songs… they weren’t just songs of easy love, but of love that is born of real life.”
“You and my mom would have gotten along so well,” he said. Now his voice held sadness. With her hand on his arm, her fingers flexed.
He spoke in past tense and she wondered if his mother was still alive. Not wanting to ask, they continued in silence for several minutes until he pulled into a drive. “Welcome to my home.”
The sun was already setting, but she could see water in the back. “Nice view!”
As he assisted her down, he said, “It’s home for now.”
“For now? Are you planning on leaving the area?”
“No, no, not that. But it’s a small house, as you’ll see. It only has two bedrooms, and one of those is in a small loft upstairs. When I decided to buy, I wanted to be near water, didn’t want to spend a lot of money, and this place is perfect for just me. But, I figure that one day I’ll want a bigger place.”
She wondered if that was because he would want a wife and children in the future but didn’t ask. Somehow, a new girlfriend asking about the long-term housing aspirations of her boyfriend seemed to be rushing things.
As they stepped inside, she saw that it might be small for such a large man, but the space was much bigger than her apartment. The living room opened into the eat-in kitchen with a hall running down the middle of the house. Assuming the two doors along the hall were for the bedroom and bathroom, she looked up and spotted the small loft over the living room. “As big as you are, it was hard to imagine you living in a little house, but this is really spacious on the inside.”
“And I thought it would just fit you, Tiny,” he said, earning a narrow-eyed glare from her. “Actually, when I bought it there was a wall between the kitchen and living room, but it made the place feel closed in. I worked with a contractor, and we opened it up so it appears larger.”
Looking down at her feet, she twisted her head back around him. “Do you mind if I take these things off? I mean, I know most men have a sex fantasy about a woman in heels or boots, but my feet could use the rest.”
Laughing, he said, “I have a lot of sex fantasies about you, Christina, but in every one of them I want you happy and comfortable. So let’s get those boots off.”
She followed him to the sofa, and once she sat down, he knelt at her feet. Unzipping the boots in the back, he slid them over her feet and carefully set them to the side. The immediate ease of pressure off her toes felt delicious, and she leaned back against the sofa cushions. Wiggling her toes, she groaned.
He grabbed one foot and began massaging her arch and toes, eliciting more groans from her. “Oh, my God, your hands are magic.”
“That’s what I think about your hands when I watch you play.”
He continued his ministrations on her feet for several minutes before moving up to her calves and eventually working his way to her thighs. Dropping her chin to her chest, she noticed the twinkling in his eyes and the smirk on his lips. A tingle had started deep inside and now shot straight from her core to her clit as his thumbs slid to the apex of her thighs. Biting her lip, she sucked in a quick breath as he slid a long, thick finger underneath her panties, gliding it through her slick folds. With her skirt now pushed up around her hips, he leaned forward and breathed in deeply. Grinning, she asked, “Are you sniffing me?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely, yes!” With his hand pulling her panties to the side, he dove in, licking her folds and sucking her clit as his finger moved in and out deep inside.
Her hips undulated in concert with his rhythm, and her fingers dug into his scalp as her body began to quiver. As her orgasm rushed through her, he continued to lick. Boneless, she wondered if she’d ever be able to move from this position on his sofa and decided she didn’t care if she stayed there the rest of her life.
He stood, slid one arm underneath her knees and the other behind her back, and picked her up. She threw her arms around his neck and tucked her head underneath his chin as he carried her to his bedroom. Setting her feet onto the floor, she once again remembered how tall he was as she had to lean her head further back to hold his gaze. “This was easier when I was in my heels,” she jokingly complained.
“Babe, I’m discovering all sorts of facets to you and love each one, but there is not one thing wrong with your height.” His hands slid under the bottom of her black tank top and pulled it upward until it skimmed over her head and was tossed to the floor. He dove his fingers through her hair, and it dawned on her it was the first time he’d been able to run his fingers through her tresses.
While she unzipped her plaid miniskirt and shucked it and her panties down her legs, he divested himself of his shirt and pants and boxers. She watched as he grabbed a condom and tossed it onto the bed before snatching her up again. Holding her tight against him, they kissed, and she could still taste her essence on his tongue.