He nods, rising from his seat. I watch as he shrugs off his jacket, and I’m met with the muscled torso wrapped in crisp white material.
His slacks are dark, but I can make out the hard lines of his thighs. I know he is beautiful completely naked. Temptation blooms on my cheeks, and I have to quickly turn away to clear my mind of the unsolicited thoughts of my voice coach.
He follows close behind me, his warmth radiating into my back. Even last night, I noticed he emanated affection—warm and alluring—when he was near me. I thought it was my imagination, but now as his fingertips find the base of my spine, I find myself wanting to lean into him once more.
This is going to be much more difficult than I envisioned. Being close to him is one thing, but knowing he wants me as well is another. And his touch is far too possessive to just be professional.
The studio is bigger than I expected. When we enter, there are a few people already milling around. Two sound technicians are seated at a large mixing desk, and the glassed off room that’s waiting for me is all set up with a piano and microphone.
“Time to do your magic, Clover,” Gideon whispers in my ear, sending heat trickling down my spine. My whole body responding to him.
Inhaling a deep, calming breath, I step into the studio and grab the headphones that are perched on the chair. Once I’m settled, Gideon calls to me through the speaker system.
“When you’re ready,” he tells me.
Nodding, I allow my fingers to still over the keys, willing them to stop shaking. I know once I’m lost in the song, I’ll be okay, but it’s the moments just before. Those seconds where I feel like I’m not good enough.
Doubt has a way of settling itself in my veins, and there’s no way of getting it out. Closing my eyes, I dance my fingertips along the ebony and ivory keys, smiling to myself as I recall the song. Words tumble from my lips, and the emotion wells up inside me.
The song title is “Delicate Surrender”, and I wrote it the first time I walked into a club, when I met the first man who taught me what being a submissive was like. And it’s the only song I ever tear up at. Because when I think of him, of saying goodbye, I know he’ll always be special to me.
When the song stops and my eyes snap open, I glance at Gideon, who’s staring at me as if I were singing in another language. His gaze makes me feel shy yet heats my skin as it holds me hostage.
“That was absolute perfection,” Gideon says through the speakers, and I can’t stop myself from smiling.
“Thank you,” I utter the words in a small tone that makes me sound even younger than my twenty years. Heat radiates off my cheeks, and I wonder if Gideon can see it.
Can he tell how much I want him to be the one I’m singing to?
“Can we do another take? Then we can move onto the second song.” His request is deep and gravelly, and I wonder briefly if he’s as turned on right now as I am.
Did he watch my body move as I played the piano?
Did it make him want me?
Because the more I look through the shiny glass at him, the more I want to fall to my knees and beg him to take me. To spank me, to make me scream.
“Sure,” I answer roughly, remembering that he’d asked me something and I didn’t respond. Turning my attention back to the piano, I focus my pent-up energy on the keys and play my heart out.
The words wrap themselves around me, holding me in their safety, just for the one song, because the moment I stop, the moment I open my eyes again, I’ll look at Gideon and feel that familiar ache. The reminder that I want him to dominate me, just once more.
I attempt to focus on the song. He’s watching me, listening, and I want him to hear me speak to him through the lyrics. Once again, my tears threaten to escape when I sing the final chorus.
It’s been too long since I felt you
Time is never enough when you’re here
And when I submit my delicate surrender,
It’s you I’m thinking of
But even before I finish singing the last line, the man who’s staring back at me in my thoughts is no longer a faceless stranger. It’s the man who made me come all over his fingers last night.
Chapter 7
Gideon
I’m speechless.
I’ve heard singers in here so many times, far too many to count, but nothing like Clover singing that fucking song. Every word, every goddamned syllable was utter perfection. The tone of her voice, the softness, submissiveness of it drew me in like a moth to a flame.