Love Me ~ Without Regret (13 page)

“Are you sure? I can call Bailey.” Lizzie reaches for her phone. Giggling, she pats the bed. “Roll over and get the pressure off your rear end.”

I obey her demands now because I know I’m going to get some of that poontang. “What else can I do for you, baby? Your wish is my command.” Over my shoulder, I smile lazily at her.

“I’m glad you said that. The article also mentioned ice.” She bends down and whispers provocatively in my ear, “So I’m going to rub a couple of pieces on your injury.” She licks and blows on my neck, taking a little nip, here and there. She trails an ice cube slowly down my spine.

“Cold!”

Her tongue follows in its wake—hot, luscious, and soothing. Fuck, I love her lips. “You’re giving me the horn, Babe.” I swear, it doesn’t matter how this woman touches me, what she does to me, I want her more each and every time.

“Give you the horn? Are you wanting me to stick something up your ass? I’ve gotta be honest with you, Clay, that’s hot. I know this place I can put my finger…” Lizzie puts her hand down my sleep pants and cups my ass then runs her finger between my ass cheeks.

“Whoa, exit only. No, I don’t want something up my ass.” I look over my shoulder and she is studying my backside.

“A little ass play is fun and it’s explosive. You’ll have a climax like you’ve never had before.” Lizzie sits up on her knees.

“What kind of kinky freak show y’all got going on in here?”

Cash’s booming chuckle startles both of us.

“Don’t you fucking knock? Bailey, what do you see in him?” I glare over at the sorry excuse for a brother.

Bailey says, “Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s his rock hard—”

“Stop,” I say. “I don’t want to hear that kind of shit about my brother.”

Bailey hands Lizzie a blue ring that looks like a pool inflatable then they stand off to the side, whispering and snickering. I can only imagine what kind of shit those two are scheming up. I’ve overheard them talking about their sexcapades before. Something about oranges and blowjobs. I bet they’re talking about butt stuff right now.

“Clay, how does someone bruise their cock?”

Cash is clearly amused.

“No, smart ass, it’s my tailbone. I slipped on water.” I say, shaking my head.

“That’s not exactly the way I heard it happened, rub a dub.” He chuckles.

“Why do they tell each other everything?” I roll over and eye Cash. “Hey, tell me whatever it is about oranges.” I push myself up into a sitting position, but it’s not a pretty sight.

“Brother, I will tell you this. Say yes, please, and thank you.” He rocks back on his heels with his hands in his pockets. “And you will be begging for it again and again.”

“I don’t like surprises, I want to know what I’m in for.”

“You’re in for the ride of your life.” Cash glances down and lets out a long breath then strides over and throws Bailey over his shoulder.

She squeals.

“It’s time to go, Sweet Cheeks,” Cash says. “We’ve got to be up early and I’m suddenly in the mood for a citrus salad.”

“See you guys in the morning.” Bailey laughs and waves.

Lizzie saunters over to me, “Now, I did bring a little toy for us to play with tonight. Are you going to be up to that or are you going to wuss out?”

“As long as you don’t stick something up my ass, we’ll be okay,” I tell her, laughing.

six

Lizzie
 

Our three-hour ride up to Nashville was beautiful. Clay took the back roads and the rolling hills gave me a tranquil feeling. Seeing the fence rows all lined up like tiny soldiers joined together with barbed wire make me crack a smile every time. I’ve always enjoyed taking the back roads to get places—so much more to see than along the highway. Nothing quite matches rolling down the windows and letting the fresh air blow gently on your face, or the smell of green grass coming through your air vents and tickling your nose. Every once in a while, you’ll get stuck behind a tractor which will slow you down enough that you can hear the birds chirping or a rooster crowing.

I have never been excited about a country concert. Heck, I’ve never liked country music at all. When riding in Bailey’s car, she not only listens to country music but she wails right along with the artists. I feel like my ears are bleeding from some high pitched dog whistle. But with Clay, country music is sexy. He makes me wet with each lyric he utters. I see why he has groupies, however if one of them touches him, slips him their number, or “accidently” rubs up against him, I won’t hesitate to slap the bitch.

I take extra time getting ready for Clay and consider my clothing carefully because he gets distracted when I’m attracting too much attention from other guys. He's never asked me not to wear something. In fact, he always tells me how hot I make him. Once we became serious, I lost interest in dressing to get other guys’ attention. When my man is on stage, he is doing his job, and I want to look good for him, not take his concentration from his music.

Tonight, I choose a knee length cranberry, high-low strapless dress. Bailey is the fashion guru, and I had to ask what she meant by high-low. She was all like “Seriously, Lizzie? The hemline is a little shorter in the front than the back.” I didn’t pay attention to the rest of what she said, but I love the gauzy material. When I add the belt, and with a small ruffle at the hem the dress gives the illusion of an hourglass shape. Clay tells me he likes my curvy body, but I think I’ve had one too many Krispy Kremes.

Since the weather’s chilly, I’m wearing a blue jean jacket with cuffed sleeves over my dress. According to Bailey, the outfit is cute and in keeping with Nashville trends and the country music scene, I have on my cowboy boots. Bailey insists I wear some of her silver jewelry, which she thinks compliment the belt. I’ve never been a girly girl. I mean I always look okay, but she goes to great lengths to make sure each detail is perfect. God love her.

“Damn, Babe, you look beautiful.” Clay wedges himself into the hotel bathroom with me. “I like that necklace and earrings on you. Why haven’t you worn that before?”

I wrap my arms around his waist and snuggle up to him, “They’re Bailey’s. She’s loaning them to me tonight. I think you look hot yourself. What am I going to do with all those girls throwing themselves at you tonight?”

Clay kisses me in rapid fire on my lips. “You have nothing to be jealous about, Tink.”

I always smile when he kisses me like this. Simple little pecks are all they are, but he’s just so sweet. I never knew a guy could be dominating one minute and be a darling lovable man the next. He’s got it all and it’s all mine. “I’m not jealous. I’m protective of what’s mine.” I take his hands and pull them down by our sides.

Clay smiles and gives me a kiss on my nose. “I like that.”

“What do you like?” I gaze at his chocolate brown eyes. When I look into them, I think he puts a spell on me. I am falling deeper in love. I may be in love with his eyes. They are soft somehow, and I see love reflected back.

“I like you wanting to protect what is yours because you’re mine, and I don’t want anyone else to have your heart but me.”

He gives me a kiss that is made for the movies. I feel like I’m being coated with a layer of tenderness, and I’m being worshiped for just being me. True compassion is someone accepting you for yourself, accepting all your flaws. Loving your flaws. In fact, maybe loving your flaws most of all. That’s why Clay has my heart. He puts my feelings first and makes me happy.

“Are you almost ready, Babe? I’d like to have plenty of time to get to the Bluebird and they’ll let us in early because they know me. I like to listen to the other singers, I’ve seen some incredible talent coming through those doors. Singers are always getting discovered from that little stage, I always like to see if I can pinpoint them before it happens.”

“Has anyone been discovered that I may know?”

“Oh, let’s see. How about a guy by the name of Garth Brooks?”

Garth Brooks?
Well if anyone has a chance to make it in country music, it is my man.

He grabs his favorite ball cap and his aviator sunglasses.

“You know it’s night time, right? You won’t need sunglasses.”

“Yes, I know it’s nighttime. These are for stage presence, right along with the scruff. Don’t you like it?” Clay puts on his hat and sunglasses.

“Oh, I like it too much. You know how much I like the scruff, or have I not been vocal enough the last few nights?”

“Hmm, I’m keeping the scruff for you then.” He gives me one last kiss before grabbing the keys and opening the door for me.

We pull up to a small strip mall outside of downtown Nashville, Clay jumps out of the truck. As he opens my door, he says, “So what do you think?”

My man stands there all tall, with a knowing grin on his face. Is there any wonder my heart flutters?

“This is it? It’s a lot smaller than I imagined it would be. You can’t possibly get very many people in there. There’s a barbershop next door. Did you get your hair cut there, too?” I shake my head and wonder what makes this place so special. It is rather charming with a pale blue awning, which simply says ‘The Bluebird Café’. 

“It’s perfect, Tink! Wait until you get inside.” Could Clay possibly be any sexier than when he’s full of confidence and pride?

We walk up and the doorman spots Clay.

He steps toward us with his hand outstretched. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Heart Poppin’ Mustang himself. I heard you guys were playing tonight. Who do you have with you? Hello, little lady, I’m Sam.”

Clay takes Sam’s hand and they shoulder bump.

“This is my woman, Lizzie. Don’t get any ideas on stealing her away. I don’t think you could handle her anyway. Yeah, man, we’re playing, but we’re Shades of Regret now. Ya got any open seating left?”

“For Lizzie, I might be able to squeeze you guys in.” Sam gives me a wink.

This guy is great. I throw my head back and laugh at their antics. I can see why Clay thinks this place is cool based on Sam alone.

Stepping inside, I’m not sure what to expect, but the one thing I never thought I would see in a bar is church pews. Every square inch is utilized to fit more people in this cozy little place. The stage along the back wall has a tiny roof sticking out from the wall that even has shingles on it.

“We’ll sit at the bar until the show then you can sit beside the stage. I want you close to me. You’re my musical muse.” He kisses the top of my head. They have to squeeze us in by bringing in two barstools from the back and we aren’t actually at the bar but more to the side.

Seeing the gleam in Clay’s eyes would make being in any crowded room worth it. “This is so cool, Clay, I’m excited for you.” I take his hand and squeeze it.

Clay wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer to him, “You’re amazing. Do you know that?”

“Me? Pfff. I’m just Lizzie. What you see is what you get.”

“No, Tink, that’s where you are wrong. I see through the hard exterior that you project and use to protect yourself from the world. I see you, the real you. You are a gift, Lizzie and you don’t even realize how special you are.”

That does it. Right there. Enough said. He has all of me. Every tiny molecule. He has all the power. I give it to him. He holds my heart and all of its strings and it’s his to do with as he pleases. “You win, babe. I relinquish everything to you. I’ll let Aubrey know that she needs to find another roommate. I’ll move in with you when we return home, if you still want me.” I look at him through my eyelashes.

Clay jumps up, pulling me up with him, “You’ve just made my day. Forget all this other shit. I’m happier than I have ever been in my entire life.”

He lifts me off my feet and gives me that slow lingering kiss that melts me.

“You make me happy, too.” I tell him and I mean it. “But if you break my heart and hurt me, Clayton Wilson, I swear I will hunt you down and cut off your balls while you sleep.” I laugh. I have a feeling Clay will go far out of his way not to hurt me, I honestly feel it down deep in my bones. That is the only way I can give him my everything. I know he would rather die than hurt me.