Page 32 of Beautiful Noise
“Nah…” I shook my head. “It’s not about me, you just can’t fucking sing. At all.”
“Ouch.”
“Exactly, ouch. Them damn high-pitched screams hurt.”
“You’re mean.”
“I’m honest but what’s all this?” My eyes moved around the room where I found a small cleaning cart loaded with supplies, a bucket, and the mop she used as a weapon.
She was silent for a minute then pulled herself together. She rolled her shoulders back and squared them. “My job.”
My gaze dropped to the mop, then found hers. She folded her arms over her chest which pushed her breasts higher, making them more visible, but I tried really hard not to get sidetracked by what she wore. Tank top, no bra, and stretchy spandex shorts hugged her frame so I stuck to focusing on her lips which had a slight gloss to them and appeared soft and plump. I knew for a fact they were.
Focus, damn it.
“Your job?”
“Yes, I work for Elite Cleaners. Your mother hired them, and by defaultme, to get your house ready for you.”
I frowned, processing what she was telling me.
“You work for the cleaning service my mother hired. That’s how you know her?”
Her eyes shifted briefly before she nodded. “Yes.”
“Oh, well, you can stop. I’ll tell them to send someone else…”
“No, you absolutely will not. I need this job so I’m going to finish it.”
“Kori…”
“No, whatever you’re about to say, just don’t. This is my job. I clean houses,yourhouse, and you’re interrupting me. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to what I was doing…” She lifted her chin defiantly before delivering her final plea, “Please.”
I was determined to say something but she’d already shut me out and I had no intention of begging for attention she wouldn’t freely offer so I did the only thing that made sense and left the room. A room in the house I owned which at the moment I didn’t feel welcomed in.
I headed down the hallway to my room, making the first stop the bathroom where I turned on the water to let it run long enough to reach the scorching temperature I preferred. For a brief moment I tensed at the thought of washing away last night, the reminders of her.
This woman had me shifting between confusion and unadulterated need, neither of which I welcomed. But the one thing I could not deny was the effect she had on me and my dick.
I stepped into the shower painfully aware of my semi-hard status which I avoided and instead reached for my washcloth and body wash. I thoroughly cleaned myself from head to toe.
I stepped out of the shower and bypassed the towel rack, moving toward the sink where I brushed my teeth before moving through the process of properly washing my face. I handled the entire process mindlessly because a pretty little thing had my mind in a chokehold.
Unfortunately I refused to do anything about it for now. Instead, I grabbed a towel to dry off with and secured it around my waist before heading out of the bathroom to my closet. My plan for now was to get dressed, find food, then head back to the studio. Prayerfully, I could focus on something other thanher…
I spent my day in the studio moving between scribbling out song lyrics and strumming tunes with my guitar. An easy escape for me, one I repeated more times than I could recall. Nothing outside of my music existed when I chose to lose myself in it.
The proof existed when I finally checked my phone to get a grasp on time. I realized morning had shifted to evening and it was after ten that night. I blinked through the exhaustion that had settled into every inch of my body but only after I made the conscious decision to end my session.
While I wrote, I was fueled by the pure adrenaline of creating something amazing. It was the type of drive and high similar to what I’d been told cocaine delivered. I wouldn’t know. I never tried the shit. It wasn’t my thing. I occasionally smoked and enjoyed a nice brown liquor from time to time but I mostly kept my body pure so my music was pure. A lot of the artists I knew were the opposite and used substances to tap into their creative sides or extend beyond what their conscious minds could process. But I needed my mind clear and free of distractions.
Another reason I was ending my session. She had crept into my thoughts more often than I was comfortable with. I didn’t think about women I slept with beyond the inspiration they evoked. I rarely ever thought about sleeping with them more than once, and if I did, it still never happened. What I was coming to realize was, where Kori was concerned, I wanted not just a second round between her legs but I wouldn’t deny a third, or fourth, or tenth either.
Extending my arms over my head for a good stretch to my stiff back and limbs, I then dragged my hands over my face andexhaled the frustration I was experiencing. Regardless of the avoidance I managed for most of the day, I knew exactly what I was about to do.
When I made it upstairs and landed outside her door, I stilled, listening for any signs that I needed to mind my damn business but the silence on the other side of the door had me frowning and my knuckles rapping against the wood.
What if she left?