Page 104 of Naughty Dreams
When he drew back, he didn’t go far, staying eye to eye with his troubled submissive. “Nothing needs to happen now,” Roy said quietly. “But you know there are other musicians out there that feel the music and magic you do.”
DJ stiffened. “I can’t even think of auditioning anyone. It hurts too much.”
“I know. You’ll take what time you need, and the interest, the desire, will come when it’s ready. If it’s ready.”
“Yeah. You know, if it’s okay, I think I want to sleep a while longer.” As DJ turned over on his side, wrapping his arms around a fat pillow and closing his eyes, Roy raised a brow and laid a hand on his hip.
“I’ll give you fifteen minutes. If you’re not in the shower, I’ll dump cold water on you. We’ll eat on the back deck. I made a breakfast casserole.”
DJ said something uncomplimentary into the pillow. Roy let it go and picked up his coffee, moving to the doorway. When he reached it, he looked back at the inert lump in the bed.
He’d assumed composing music and lyrics was the lifeboat DJ needed to keep the grief from drowning him, but after this conversation, Roy was having a different thought. Simply reestablishing his bondwithmusic might be the vessel he needed.
Recalling what Mick had told him, Roy pulled out his phone to verify the location of The Rocking Duck and the show schedule.
After they visited the erotic shop tomorrow, Roy knew where he’d be taking his submissive next.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Each time my shop bell rings, a new story crosses the threshold…
The sign above the door of Naughty Bits was intriguing, but the humming note of the bell drew DJ’s attention. It soothed the agitation that had propelled him out of the SUV and into the store.
He hadn’t started out any better today than he had yesterday. If anything, he’d spiraled down further, but Roy had ignored DJ’s surliness and loaded him in the SUV.
As they rode, one thing changed, though it didn’t seem like much. DJ had thought about their destination and what he might see there, and it started to engage his imagination.
Kind of like how Roy’s first touch had grabbed his mind and made it consider how it would feel everywhere else. Only back when that had happened, his imagination had been far less sluggish.
So it shocked him when that shop bell note made a home in his head…and started a song.
I sing and you answer
I answer and you sing
When we came together
The music changed.
Come soft and it’s a lullaby
Come hard and it’s a storm
But still, the notes are nothing
When they stand alone.
They’re not together.
The last line would repeat, only the music would change, taking it down a darker path. Increasing the sense of isolation.
They’re not together.
We’re not together.
He’d end the song with tapped harmonies to sound like the bell, fading away.
Panic flooded him. He needed to write that down, but when he dug into the pockets of his faded jeans, he came up empty. He always had pen and paper.
