Read Online WMIS 03 Play With Me by Kristen Proby - Free Book Online

my
face.
    “So
sweet,” he murmurs against my lips.
    I
can taste myself on him. I reach for the hem of his shirt again and push my
hand under it so I can caress his back, his ribs. He sighs deeply and rests his
forehead on mine, eyes closed.
    “Your
hands feel good,” he whispers.
    “So
do yours. Take your clothes off.”
    He
sighs again, kisses my forehead and sits back on his heels.
    “I
don’t think so.” He shakes his head and then chuckles ruefully while scrubbing
his hands over his face. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think
I’d better go.”
    What??
    He
must see the alarm on my face because he chuckles again and kisses me swiftly.
    “I’m
picking you up for date number two tomorrow at noon.” His eyes take one more
leisurely stroll down my naked body and he curses under his breath.
    “Okay,”
I respond, a bit unsure, and sit up, tug my dress over my head and stand as he
also rises from the floor.
    “You
are incredible.” He cups my face in his hands and leans down to kiss me softly.
    I
lead him to the front door, punch the code into the alarm system to disarm it
and open the door for him.
    “Noon
tomorrow,” he reminds me, as if I could ever forget.
    “It’s
a date.” I smile shyly at him.
    “Set
this alarm when I leave.” He glares down at me, daring me to defy him and I
giggle.
    “Yes,
sir.”
     

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     
    “How
many times have you been here?” Will asks me as we stand in line waiting to
purchase tickets for Seattle’s Experience Music Project Museum . It’s a
music museum, and so much more.
    I
love this place.
    “Dozens,”
I smile up at him, geez he’s tall and squeeze his hand. “It changes all
the time, with new exhibits and stuff. Plus, I could just sit and stare at the
guitars for days. Have you ever been?”
    “No,
I’ve just never taken the time.” He winks down at me. “I’m a rookie.”
    “That’s
okay, I’ll protect you.”
    He
smirks and pays for our tickets, and I lead him into the museum.
    We
wander up to the second floor where the exhibits are and I get lost in Jimi
Hendrix, Nirvana, The Stones, the guitar gallery. I point out interesting tid
bits of information for Will and drag him from room to room.
    I
love sharing this with him, and I love how interested he seems. He’s not just
tagging along, trying to make me happy.
    Best.
Date. Ever.
    We
head up to the third floor and stand and stare at the enormous guitar
sculpture. It’s at least fifty feet tall and is made up of real guitars, of all
different shapes and sizes and colors. My eyes travel up it, examining the
instruments, and I feel Will’s eyes on me.
    “What?”
I ask without looking at him.
    “You
look awesome in that outfit.”
    “This
old thing?” I ask and smirk, still not looking away from the sculpture. I’m in
a white v-neck t-shirt with a loose, brown cotton vest over skinny blue jeans.
    After
a few moments, he’s still watching me.
    “Do
I have something on my face?” I ask dryly.
    “No,
you’re just so beautiful, with your auburn hair spilling down your back and
pink lips parted. I like watching you. You love this, don’t you?”
    “More
than almost anything,” I respond truthfully. Music saved me when I was taken
from Sylvia. It was my whole life in college.
    “I’ve
heard there’s a place here where you can get on stage,” Will comments casually
and I grin.
    “There
is. No, I’m not getting on it,” I murmur before he can suggest it.
    “Why?”
    “Stage
fright,” I reply and start to lead him away from the sculpture.
    “Bullshit.”
Will laughs and pulls me against him, his front to my back, and wraps his arms
around my waist, kissing my head. “You’re not shy, sweetheart.”
    “I
just don’t want to.”
    “I
would love to hear you. Please?”
    I
sigh against him. I haven’t sung for anyone other than my patients since
college. Since the band broke up and Leo left town.
    “Maybe,”
I mutter and he chuckles