URGENT (Book 2 of the Soundcrush Series)

Chapter 57: Bad Girls Wear Cheetahs

Check out Madam in their church clothes, in the header above...

Mac

Two days changes a lot of things.

It's been two days since Adam's surgery, and it seems like it never happened. Adam feels fully recovered. I know this because he made love to me this morning with the fury of five men.

"It's Sunday morning," he murmured in my ear as he licked up the side of my neck and massaged my ass to wake me. "I can't think of anything better than a religious experience. Then we can get dressed and go to church."

When he entered me from behind a few seconds later, he definitely had me beseeching god. I leaned back against him, reveling in  the amazing rhythms of my favorite bass player, as I buried my face in the pillow, using it to muffle my various moans, blasphemes, and profanities. He showed amazing vocal restraint, hissing quietly through his forceful claiming of me. Three orgasms later—two mine, one his, he jumped up and jetted off for a shower as I lay dazed, marveling at how his energy had been restored, and now I was layed out.

Yeah, two days and proper motivation—the idea of fucking me dirty in his childhood bed—was all Adam needed to recover.

Two days is also how long has taken for me to learn that being embraced by the Heartley's is a bit of a mixed blessing. Now, they seem perfectly comfortable with me, and I swear, I almost preferred it when they were hating on me.

Being a Heartley is damn exhausting. I'm just not used to this much...frank feedback and attention.

Which is ironic, considering I'm a celebrity, I realize. But Dawes and Trace are the only people in my life that tell  me like it is, and now I have a clan of Heartley's doing the same, although some doing it with a little more grace than others. Joely rivals Trace for blunt speech, and Janie rivals Dawes in shade-throwing while "helping."

It's not just the advice or constructive criticisms...it's their attempts to get to know me, too. Heartley attention is so intimate. They ask me a million questions about my childhood, and about me and Adam, and about our plans for the baby, and how long we will settle in Nashville before the birth, and how long we will stay, and what kind of place we will be looking for...and there's like a dozen of them, so I've had this conversation a dozen times. Basically deflecting every question because I don't like talking about my childhood and home life—it's such a stark contrast to the Heartley upbringing. And I damn sure don't want to talk about how I humped and dumped Adam for years. And I also can't talk about our plans for the birth or coming to stay in Nashville, because we have made no decisions about the tour.

All band business communications have gone dark. Leed, Trace, Bodie, Adam all change the subject every time I talk about the tour. Trace did say he thought we should enjoy the rest of the visit and pick up business after our show next week. Which I can appreciate, but somehow I can't help but feel like I'm being handled. Like, just because there's a human being growing in my uterus, they all think I need to be shielded from the business realities facing us.

Don't get me wrong. Now that Adam is all good, I'm enjoying myself, for the most part. It's a beautiful life here in Heartleyville—a life that maybe Adam and I are going to be able to enjoy—in small doses. Like a vacation or something. But we have a life life that we will have to manage also. And every single Heartley and every single Soundcrusher seems to have forgotten that for the moment.

Even Adam, though I can hardly blame him. It's his birthday, and he's recuperating from emergency surgery, and he hasn't been home in more than a year, so of course he wants to kick back and relax.

It's a lot for me to cope with—all this relaxing. But I'm trying.

Adam has already showered and dressed in his church clothes. He's rocking a very slim cut silver-grey suit, a bright white collarless shirt, and white vans.