Page 55 of Voice to Raise
He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me tight. “Okay. You go first—I’ll clean up and have a heart-to-heart with Moses.”
Uncertain what that meant, but with my heart rate kicking up, I headed to the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and stripping, I headed into the bedroom. I tossed my clothes in the hamper, then pulled back the top sheet and duvet. I had no idea what to expect, but my imagination was working overtime.Should I be preparing myself? Were we going to have sex? What if he wanted to bottom? I was fine with that…although topping wasn’t always my happy place. With him, though, I’d gleefully make an exception.
The sound of the toilet flushing had me hustling into bed.
I was retrieving the lube and a couple of condoms from my nightstand when he strode in—buck naked. Which was impressive given the small size of my condo.
He grinned wickedly. “I think we’re going to have fun tonight.”
“Yeah, me too.”
And we did.
Chapter Sixteen
Malik
Creed nudged me with his foot against my shin.
I met his gaze.
He grinned wickedly. “Okay, you’ve got to be thinking about someone. A gal? A dude? An enby? Just something, because you keep getting this look on your face—the look you get when you’re all smitten.”
I scowled. “Smitten?”
He shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t happen often…but it has happened. You’ve met someone.”
We were taking a break from rehearsing, standing near the wet bar in the basement next to the recording studio. Reese was in the bathroom, and Freddie was still at the keyboards—trying to work out a melody in his head that only he could sort out.
“Do you think he’s composing something new?”
Creed shrugged. “Anything’s possible. He might be tweaking Reese’s composition on that last song. I think he’s adding to it.”
I scratched my chin. “I thought the song was good.”
“So did I…but he might be able to make it better. It’ll be up to Reese if she accepts the changes or not.”
“What changes?” The composer of said song—and our bassist extraordinaire—pushed me aside as she made her way over to the bar fridge. She opened it and grinned. “Thanks for stocking up.”
“On blue energy drinks?” I wrinkled my nose. “Only one, okay? We don’t need you rocketing into outer space.” I couldn’t fathom how much caffeine was in those things.
Even as I had the thought, my electric tea kettle whistled that the water was boiling.
Reese moved out of my way so I could set my Earl Grey to steep—something else I got from my mother. I’d add lemon if we were doing a lot of singing. Today was more jamming with the music than worrying about lyrics.
As my tea steeped, Freddie sauntered over.
I opened the fridge, pulled out a can of root beer, and handed it to him.
He grinned, cracked the top, and downed half of it.
Then belched.
Yep, that was Freddie.
“And you wonder why you can’t get a girlfriend.” I tossed my tea bag into a compost container, added half a teaspoon of brown sugar, and stirred.
“What I really want to know is who Malik’s dicking.” Creed raised his ice water with a slice of lime in salute.
