Read Online Redemption by Stephanie Tyler - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stephanie Tyler
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and a Washington princess would have the same taste in anything.
Not only in music, but in each other, I reminded myself, thinking how I wore his scent on me like a warm sweater. He was lying there, staring up at the ceiling of the van, which had those fluorescent stars stuck to it, mimicking the nighttime sky I hadn’t seen a trace of since the Chaos. He looked deep in thought and I liked that he felt comfortable enough around me to do so.
There wasn’t any pretense with Mathias. That also made me feel less like I was on slippery ground. I’d gotten a foothold into this world—a small one, but one nonetheless.
I glanced around and spotted a guitar propped up next to me. I’d had a similar one when I’d been in boarding school and without thinking, I picked it up and my hands fit around it like they were meant to be there. I began to strum idly. It had been years since I’d done this, but as soon as my palm wound around the neck of the guitar, years of notes and chords came back to me. The warehouse echoed with the music and the storm mixed together, comforting me.
I was lost in the sounds, and when I finally looked up, Mathias was watching me with an odd look in his eyes and a half smile tugging his lips.
“Sorry. I should’ve asked,” I said sheepishly. He motioned that it was fine. And then he pointed to the guitar and motioned for me to play more. “Any special requests?”
He signed with one hand as he approached the van and dug into a box behind me. He pulled out a CD and showed me the cover and then pointed to the song. “Bringin’ on the Heartbreak.”
“I’ve never heard it before. Can you play it for me?”
He rolled his eyes, like he couldn’t believe I’d never heard a Def Leppard song, but he popped in a tape and let it blast through the speakers. As it did, I visualized the chords in my mind, pictured my fingers playing along the strings.
When the song finished, I began to strum along, and he nodded, typed, You have an ear for music.
I did. But in my family, music wasn’t done. It was fine to play the piano at formal dinners, on request, but beyond that...
Mathias took my chin in his hand and focused me. Then he signed and I said, “I’ll bet you’re telling me to stop thinking so much, right?”
He nodded, leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. I shivered, murmured, “That’s one way.”
He huffed a silent laugh, then moved along my neck, kissing and sucking until he was sitting behind me. He slid an arm behind mine, winding one hand around the guitar neck, the other on my waist. I wound my hand around his, my fingers on top. His cock pressed against me; his breath was warm on the back of my neck and suddenly, being cold wasn’t an issue. It didn’t help that I knew what his body looked like.
Communication was definitely not an issue. Not when I strummed and my fingers danced on his and we were playing. And he was playing me. I was his instrument and he was learning what made me sing.
Leave this one alone
Mathias
Nearly twenty-six hours after we’d first pulled in, the storm began to abate in earnest. Only then did Bish come up from underground. As Jessa remained in the van, listening to music. I met him closer to the room where Charlie was locked away. I’d checked on him fifteen minutes ago. He’s still out. I left him some water.
Bish nodded. “Caspar knows.”
And?
Bish shrugged, which meant Caspar hadn’t elaborated on anything. At least one storm had passed—it’d been wicked enough this time.
My imagination or are the storms getting worse?
“Not your imagination.” Bish glanced over at the windows, habit still after all these years. We’d look out, expecting to see light of some kind and were always met with blackness. Even when Defiance shone the artificial lights, you couldn’t see shit.
But hell, at least we had artificial lights, right? When I said that to Bish, he countered with, “Most people would say that isn’t enough.”
Most
Not only in music, but in each other, I reminded myself, thinking how I wore his scent on me like a warm sweater. He was lying there, staring up at the ceiling of the van, which had those fluorescent stars stuck to it, mimicking the nighttime sky I hadn’t seen a trace of since the Chaos. He looked deep in thought and I liked that he felt comfortable enough around me to do so.
There wasn’t any pretense with Mathias. That also made me feel less like I was on slippery ground. I’d gotten a foothold into this world—a small one, but one nonetheless.
I glanced around and spotted a guitar propped up next to me. I’d had a similar one when I’d been in boarding school and without thinking, I picked it up and my hands fit around it like they were meant to be there. I began to strum idly. It had been years since I’d done this, but as soon as my palm wound around the neck of the guitar, years of notes and chords came back to me. The warehouse echoed with the music and the storm mixed together, comforting me.
I was lost in the sounds, and when I finally looked up, Mathias was watching me with an odd look in his eyes and a half smile tugging his lips.
“Sorry. I should’ve asked,” I said sheepishly. He motioned that it was fine. And then he pointed to the guitar and motioned for me to play more. “Any special requests?”
He signed with one hand as he approached the van and dug into a box behind me. He pulled out a CD and showed me the cover and then pointed to the song. “Bringin’ on the Heartbreak.”
“I’ve never heard it before. Can you play it for me?”
He rolled his eyes, like he couldn’t believe I’d never heard a Def Leppard song, but he popped in a tape and let it blast through the speakers. As it did, I visualized the chords in my mind, pictured my fingers playing along the strings.
When the song finished, I began to strum along, and he nodded, typed, You have an ear for music.
I did. But in my family, music wasn’t done. It was fine to play the piano at formal dinners, on request, but beyond that...
Mathias took my chin in his hand and focused me. Then he signed and I said, “I’ll bet you’re telling me to stop thinking so much, right?”
He nodded, leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. I shivered, murmured, “That’s one way.”
He huffed a silent laugh, then moved along my neck, kissing and sucking until he was sitting behind me. He slid an arm behind mine, winding one hand around the guitar neck, the other on my waist. I wound my hand around his, my fingers on top. His cock pressed against me; his breath was warm on the back of my neck and suddenly, being cold wasn’t an issue. It didn’t help that I knew what his body looked like.
Communication was definitely not an issue. Not when I strummed and my fingers danced on his and we were playing. And he was playing me. I was his instrument and he was learning what made me sing.
Leave this one alone
Mathias
Nearly twenty-six hours after we’d first pulled in, the storm began to abate in earnest. Only then did Bish come up from underground. As Jessa remained in the van, listening to music. I met him closer to the room where Charlie was locked away. I’d checked on him fifteen minutes ago. He’s still out. I left him some water.
Bish nodded. “Caspar knows.”
And?
Bish shrugged, which meant Caspar hadn’t elaborated on anything. At least one storm had passed—it’d been wicked enough this time.
My imagination or are the storms getting worse?
“Not your imagination.” Bish glanced over at the windows, habit still after all these years. We’d look out, expecting to see light of some kind and were always met with blackness. Even when Defiance shone the artificial lights, you couldn’t see shit.
But hell, at least we had artificial lights, right? When I said that to Bish, he countered with, “Most people would say that isn’t enough.”
Most
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