Part 46 (1/2)
”I still can't believe you bought a house here.”
”Twenty f.u.c.king hours in a plane to get to Australia. You'd better believe I'm taking my time about going back to London. We might as well be comfortable for the interim.”
”Hey, a good many of those hours were spent f.u.c.king, so it couldn't have been that bad.”
This is true. Struggling to be quiet, and the fear of being caught, made for some truly spectacular make-up s.e.x. I'm such a fan now, I plan on bickering with Sophie tonight in some public place so we can find a way to do it again.
”You know, I might be cured of my fear of plane travel,” I tell her, bending to kiss the curve of her neck. ”However, we'll have to conduct experiments on our return trip to make certain.”
Sophie nudges her sweet a.r.s.e back against my waking c.o.c.k. He stirs, wanting to say h.e.l.lo.
”I hear there's a first-cla.s.s flight that now has a full shower on board.” Her hands reach back and slide up my hips. ”That could be interesting.”
”Sod it, let's shower now,” I demand, inching up the hem of her skirt.
Rye's voice breaks through my happy bubble. ”Oh, G.o.d, my eyes. They burn.”
I sigh against Sophie's skin. ”Why did I invite them here again?”
”Because you love them,” she whispers against my cheek.
”I love you. I tolerate them.”
”I want the old Scottie back,” Whip whines.
Sophie laughs at that.
”Jesus,” I grumble. ”They're all behind us, aren't they?”
She cranes her head to look around me. ”Yep. All of them.”
”Scottie has left the building,” Jax tells them. ”You now have Gabriel to contend with, and he appears to be a randy b.a.s.t.a.r.d.”
At that, I smile, because he isn't wrong. ”It'll happen to you too, John.”
”Don't count on it.”
Poor sod, he doesn't know what he's missing.
Finally, I turn and tuck Sophie against my side. Jax, Rye, Killian, Liberty, Brenna, and Whip have all managed to leave their appointed rooms and congregate in the ma.s.sive living room.
Killian and Libby are tucked up on the sofa as Brenna hands out some sort of fruity-looking c.o.c.ktail. They've taken over my house. And it isn't uncomfortable or strange to see. It feels right. It feels good.
Rye and Whip appear to be bringing out a small drum kit and portable keyboard. Only then do I notice that Jax and Killian have their guitars.
”Planning to sing for your supper?” I ask.
Jax plucks at his guitar's strings. ”For Sophie.” He gives her a wink. ”Because she's the best hostess.”
She blows him a kiss.
”Any requests?” Jax asks.
”Yes.” I lean in to tell him the song I have in mind, adding, ”'From me to you.”
He shakes his head, grinning wide. ”No, man, that one is definitely from me to you.”
I pull Sophie onto my lap, and we make ourselves comfortable in a low-slung chair as the guys fiddle with their instruments. Though I rarely let it show, hearing my mates play, seeing their progression from b.u.mbling lads who could barely coordinate a sound to seasoned musicians who create transcendent music, fills me with pride.
Sophie lights up as they begin to play ”With a Little Help From My Friends.”
”Beatles for joy,” I tell her softly.
Her head rests on my shoulder, and she places a hand over my heart. ”And for love.”
I close my eyes and let the music wash over me. ”Always for love.”
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Take a look at IDOL
If you haven't read IDOL, book one in the VIP series, here's a little peek:
Liberty
There's a b.u.m on my lawn. Maybe I should use a better term, something more PC. Homeless person? Vagrant? Nope, I'm going with b.u.m. Because I doubt he's actually homeless or without means. His current state seems more a choice than a situation.