Page 140 of Fostering Chemistry
“Yeah.”
He scanned the room, walking around his desk. I thought he was going to pick up the guitar that was leaning against the wall by the bed. But then he came over and sat down next to me.
He patted my leg. “How about I try this keyboard?”
Warmth filled me as I realized it was a setup. He was so damn cute sometimes.
I straightened my leg and put it over his lap. “Be my guest.”
He put his hands on my thigh and shin as if ready to play, but then he frowned at the denim under his fingers.
“Can I take off the keyboard cover?”
My pulse sped up, but I nodded and unbuckled my jeans, only a little self-consciously. I’d recently done so many steamy things with these men that I was getting used to it—and very used to the unbelievably good orgasms—but sometimes I still got a little shy. I lifted my butt off the bed, and Cody tugged my pants down and off.
Even that much—just having his hands on me—was enough to make arousal pool between my legs. But that increased as he repositioned my bare leg over his lap and started playing. His fingers flew over my skin, tapping as he would for a real keyboard.
It almost looked like he could hear music rising from the makeshift keyboard that I couldn’t. It was so fascinating watching his face as he focused that I forgot to be disappointed that he hadn’t moved on to other things once he got my pants off. I leaned back against the wall and just enjoyed the feel of my leg on his, his hands moving on it, and his closeness.
I probably would have been content to stay there forever, but after a good five minutes, his hands stilled.
“I think I’ve got it.” He smiled at me.
“Do you need to write it down?”
“Nope, I’ve got it. Thank you.”
“Anytime,” I said. “Literally. I like being your instrument.”
He raised an eyebrow and gestured toward my t-shirt. “I’ve noticed.”
I looked down and saw my hard nipples poking against the shirt.
Oops.
“Well, if you wanted an impartial piano, you should have used someone else’s leg.”
“Don’t want to.”
He scooped me up and pulled me across his lap as he scooted back against the headboard. Now both legs were across his and his arm was around my back as he held me to his chest.
“You are my muse, Mia.”
The way he said it filled some deep-seated need in me. He sounded like he meant it.
“You’re pretty important to me, too.”
He still had me in his arms, a frown of concentration on his face. “Important is not the right word. But whenever I try to find the right words, they disappear like notes into the air.”
“Do you want to sign?” I asked. I loved being in his arms, but I could give him space if he wanted to.
“No. Though I do appreciate you learning to sign the alphabet.”
That’d been fun. Sometimes we tried to spell out naughty things across the dining room table from each other—discreetly, or mostly discreetly.
I leaned my head against Cody’s shoulder. There was just something incredible about being cradled in someone’s arms. The safety, the warmth, and the fact that he wanted you there.
“It’s too soon,” he finally said.
