Page 82 of Musical Games
He shook his head vigorously. ‘Never.’
‘So, let’s find out then, shall we?’
She pulled him back towards her, one hand holding the base of his shaft, the other cupping his balls. She held his gaze as she circled the head with her tongue. His eyes were wide, his mouth open, his cheeks flushed as he watched her. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked.
‘Oh god, Sam. Fuck!’
A thrill raced through her. She wanted to pleasure him as he’d done for her. She took him deeper, twisting her hand up his shaft. His hands fluttered uncertainly to her head, threading into her hair, following her movements. She sucked and licked, tugging on his balls, gripping him tighter as she pumped his length.
She watched him losing control. She knew he would want to pull out, so she grabbed his backside, digging her nails in, holding him in place.
‘Jesus, Sam! I’m going to, you don’t have to, I, I—’
She took him deeper, stroking harder as he let go with a roar. His body shook, his release pumping at the back of her throat. She swallowed it and sucked harder. He folded forward over her, gasping and trembling. She licked and kissed his cock, then moved away so he could fall forward onto the bed. She lifted his legs to the mattress and cuddled him from behind.
‘That was…’ he began. ‘That was unbelievable.’
She nibbled his earlobe. ‘Welcome to London, Jamie McDougall.’
22
That evening felt like the calm before the storm. They got takeout and ate it in bed with a picnic blanket laid across the duvet. They didn’t discuss music or what was going to happen next. They kept their world small, just the two of them. That night, Jamie kept waking, disorientated. Sam held him close as he fell back to sleep, wondering if he’d ever spent a night away from home. As the predawn light filtered in through the windows, they made love as if for the last time, holding each other tightly. As they left the bed, the silence grew like a wall between them.
Sam didn’t know what to say to lift Jamie’s mood, as she was as nervous as he looked. To protect him from the strangeness of a new city, she ordered another cab to take them to the studio and gripped his hand as they drove from Shepherd’s Bush to Hampstead. When they exited the taxi, he faltered.
‘It’s a church.’
‘Itwasa church. This is Air Studios. Scores for everything fromHarry PottertoWonder Womanhave been recorded here.’
‘Fuck.’
‘It’s okay, Jamie. We’ve got this.’
He shook his head. ‘You’ve got this. I haven’t.’
‘Jamie, you have. Just close your eyes and imagine you’re back in Kinloch.’
He looked at the building, a muscle twitching in his jaw, then took a big breath in. ‘Okay. Lead on, Macduff.’
She smiled at him. ‘Not “lay" on?’
‘You were right, “lead" on does sound better.’
They entered through the big doors into the central atrium, stopping as the enormity of the space hit them. It was vast, the vaulted roof reaching up to the sky, the floor filled with chairs and music stands. She stared at their faces, reflected in the long piece of glass that separated the studio from the control room. They looked like deer caught in the headlights of a truck. Jamie squeezed her hand as a tall slim man with short white hair strode towards them. His eyes were bright.
‘Sam, Jamie, I’m Chris, your producer. Great to finally meet you.’
They shook his hand.
‘We’ve had a fantastic couple of days,’ he continued. ‘Your songs are just beautiful. We’ve got all of them laid to a click track now, so we’ll be ready to go in half an hour or so when the band arrives. Is this your first time at Air?’
They nodded.
‘Great. You can put your guitar and bags down there and I’ll show you around.’
Chris was chatty and affable as he took them around the studio. Sam kicked her social skills into gear, drawing on her experience and training to smile and nod in all the right places. Chris tried to draw Jamie out, but he was quiet and pale, walking around like the newly undead, unsure of who or where he was. By the time they arrived back in the central atrium, it was full of people and instruments.
‘Band?’ Jamie croaked.
