All Your Reasons
Page 7
***
Ten minutes later, we arrive at the café and the owner gives me a huge smile. I’ve been coming here on and off for five years, so they know me well. He gets us settled and takes our order. I’m pleased to see Presley order up big. After the owner leaves us, I say, “I take it you don’t live here due to the fact you’re staying in a hotel. Where are you from?”
“Brisbane. You?”
Inside, I’m cheering like a dickhead. “Brisbane, too.”
“Are you here for work?”
“Yeah, we came to Sydney to do some concerts.” I shift in my seat and lean across the table a little. “You said you were working with models. What do you do?”
“I’m a fashion photographer. However, I’m thinking of swapping to landscape photography,” she says, and I note the sarcasm.
I chuckle. “Had enough of the models?”
“You have no idea. I’ve been working in this industry for seven years, and I think I’ve hit my used by date.”
“So, time for a change?”
She nods, clearly enthusiastic about this idea. “I’ve got three months off, and I’m going to reassess everything.”
I cock my head. “Sounds like you’re about to make a lot of changes, not just work.”
“Yeah, it’s been one of those years, you know?”
“I do. Although for me, it’s been more than one of those years.” Exhaustion pounces on me just thinking about it.
“Oh god, that sucks,” she says, and I’m in complete agreement with her.
“Yeah, it does, because I love making music. It’s just all the other bullshit that goes with it that I hate.”
“Which part?”
“I miss my family and friends. When we started the band ten years ago, I never cared about being away from them, but over the last few years, I’ve really started resenting it. In fact, we’re just about to take some extended time off, something we haven’t done for a long time,” I say, taking in her surprise. “Why do you seem surprised?”
“I’m more impressed than surprised,” she says, softly.
“Why?”
“I’ve met a lot of famous people through my work and other things, even made friends with some of them, and they hardly ever talk about their family. You’ve mentioned yours twice already tonight. So yeah, I’m surprised but impressed.”
A sensation I’ve never felt snakes through me. I’m clueless as to what it is, but I soak it in. It’s the kind of sensation I would pay good money to feel more of. “I know what you mean, sweetheart,” I murmur.
“Do all your band members get on well?”
“Ten years is a long time to work together and practically live together. We’ve hardly stopped touring in that time. But I’m pretty proud to admit we work at it and do get on fairly well still. There have been some bumpy parts, though. I guess it’s like a marriage.”
“You’ve been married?” she asks, seemingly interested in my answer.
“Fuck, no. Besides the fact I haven’t met the right woman, I wouldn’t like to put a marriage through my job. I don’t know what I’ll do if I ever get married, but I’m fairly certain I’d cut my work back.”
And there’s that surprised look on her face again as she says, “Like I said, every woman needs a Jett. Do you know how many friends I have who would kill to have a husband who put them before their work?”
“You know, I’m kinda liking this whole ‘everyone needs a Jett’ thing you’ve got going on but only so long as it’s you who wants a Jett and so long as it’s for more of the lips-on-dick action.” I give her a wicked grin, and she shakes her head in amusement.
It’s refreshing to find a woman with a great sense of humour. As we start laughing, our food arrives and we spend the next hour eating and talking. It’s easy, which is something rare for me. I find most women difficult to talk to. All they want to do is screw me and worm their way into my life by blinding me with sex. I’ll take the sex any day, but what I crave is good conversation and some laughs. So far, Presley has managed both.
She gives me a serious look when we finish eating, and says, “I think you’d better take me back to the hotel now if we’re going to have any hope at finishing what we started. Otherwise, I may fall asleep mid sex.”
Without hesitating, I stand and reach for her hand. “Let’s get going then,” I say as I assess her. It’s obviously been a long week for her because she looks exhausted.
It takes us longer to walk back then it did to get here, and I’m beginning to wonder if I should just carry her, but she makes it on her own. When we enter her room, I pull her to me and kiss her. She kisses me back but there’s even exhaustion in her kiss. I figured that would be the case, and as I end the kiss, I smooth my hand over her hair and murmur, “Let’s get you to bed.”
She looks puzzled. “Don’t you want to have sex? My lips, your dick... remember?”
“Beautiful, you have no idea how much I want to fuck you, but I’m thinking that in your current state even my dick won’t keep you awake.”
A tired smile graces her gorgeous face and she nods. “You’re probably right.”
She walks to the bed and grabs the t-shirt that’s under the pillow. I expect her to change in the bathroom, but instead, she strips down to her panties and pulls the t-shirt on. Fuck, her body is spectacular with its curves and a softness I don’t see on many women. I don’t even pretend not to watch. No, I settle my ass against the table in the corner, fold my arms across my chest, and enjoy the fuck out of the show. Not that she’s turning it into a show, but Presley undressing is a fucking show.
Ten minutes later, we arrive at the café and the owner gives me a huge smile. I’ve been coming here on and off for five years, so they know me well. He gets us settled and takes our order. I’m pleased to see Presley order up big. After the owner leaves us, I say, “I take it you don’t live here due to the fact you’re staying in a hotel. Where are you from?”
“Brisbane. You?”
Inside, I’m cheering like a dickhead. “Brisbane, too.”
“Are you here for work?”
“Yeah, we came to Sydney to do some concerts.” I shift in my seat and lean across the table a little. “You said you were working with models. What do you do?”
“I’m a fashion photographer. However, I’m thinking of swapping to landscape photography,” she says, and I note the sarcasm.
I chuckle. “Had enough of the models?”
“You have no idea. I’ve been working in this industry for seven years, and I think I’ve hit my used by date.”
“So, time for a change?”
She nods, clearly enthusiastic about this idea. “I’ve got three months off, and I’m going to reassess everything.”
I cock my head. “Sounds like you’re about to make a lot of changes, not just work.”
“Yeah, it’s been one of those years, you know?”
“I do. Although for me, it’s been more than one of those years.” Exhaustion pounces on me just thinking about it.
“Oh god, that sucks,” she says, and I’m in complete agreement with her.
“Yeah, it does, because I love making music. It’s just all the other bullshit that goes with it that I hate.”
“Which part?”
“I miss my family and friends. When we started the band ten years ago, I never cared about being away from them, but over the last few years, I’ve really started resenting it. In fact, we’re just about to take some extended time off, something we haven’t done for a long time,” I say, taking in her surprise. “Why do you seem surprised?”
“I’m more impressed than surprised,” she says, softly.
“Why?”
“I’ve met a lot of famous people through my work and other things, even made friends with some of them, and they hardly ever talk about their family. You’ve mentioned yours twice already tonight. So yeah, I’m surprised but impressed.”
A sensation I’ve never felt snakes through me. I’m clueless as to what it is, but I soak it in. It’s the kind of sensation I would pay good money to feel more of. “I know what you mean, sweetheart,” I murmur.
“Do all your band members get on well?”
“Ten years is a long time to work together and practically live together. We’ve hardly stopped touring in that time. But I’m pretty proud to admit we work at it and do get on fairly well still. There have been some bumpy parts, though. I guess it’s like a marriage.”
“You’ve been married?” she asks, seemingly interested in my answer.
“Fuck, no. Besides the fact I haven’t met the right woman, I wouldn’t like to put a marriage through my job. I don’t know what I’ll do if I ever get married, but I’m fairly certain I’d cut my work back.”
And there’s that surprised look on her face again as she says, “Like I said, every woman needs a Jett. Do you know how many friends I have who would kill to have a husband who put them before their work?”
“You know, I’m kinda liking this whole ‘everyone needs a Jett’ thing you’ve got going on but only so long as it’s you who wants a Jett and so long as it’s for more of the lips-on-dick action.” I give her a wicked grin, and she shakes her head in amusement.
It’s refreshing to find a woman with a great sense of humour. As we start laughing, our food arrives and we spend the next hour eating and talking. It’s easy, which is something rare for me. I find most women difficult to talk to. All they want to do is screw me and worm their way into my life by blinding me with sex. I’ll take the sex any day, but what I crave is good conversation and some laughs. So far, Presley has managed both.
She gives me a serious look when we finish eating, and says, “I think you’d better take me back to the hotel now if we’re going to have any hope at finishing what we started. Otherwise, I may fall asleep mid sex.”
Without hesitating, I stand and reach for her hand. “Let’s get going then,” I say as I assess her. It’s obviously been a long week for her because she looks exhausted.
It takes us longer to walk back then it did to get here, and I’m beginning to wonder if I should just carry her, but she makes it on her own. When we enter her room, I pull her to me and kiss her. She kisses me back but there’s even exhaustion in her kiss. I figured that would be the case, and as I end the kiss, I smooth my hand over her hair and murmur, “Let’s get you to bed.”
She looks puzzled. “Don’t you want to have sex? My lips, your dick... remember?”
“Beautiful, you have no idea how much I want to fuck you, but I’m thinking that in your current state even my dick won’t keep you awake.”
A tired smile graces her gorgeous face and she nods. “You’re probably right.”
She walks to the bed and grabs the t-shirt that’s under the pillow. I expect her to change in the bathroom, but instead, she strips down to her panties and pulls the t-shirt on. Fuck, her body is spectacular with its curves and a softness I don’t see on many women. I don’t even pretend not to watch. No, I settle my ass against the table in the corner, fold my arms across my chest, and enjoy the fuck out of the show. Not that she’s turning it into a show, but Presley undressing is a fucking show.
