Sipping her coffee, she scanned through her emails, pausing to respond to those relating to Hyde Properties. There was a lengthy message from David, her financial advisor, with two business reports attached. Quickly, she marked it as unread then set a reminder in her calendar to read them later on, after the kids were in bed. There were two from Jason regarding potential new commissions but she declined them both without even listening to the accompanying files. He had titled them with their deadline dates and she knew there was no way she could fit in another two projects before January.
Switching off her laptop, Lori spun her chair round to face her drawing board. The sheet in front of her was covered in drawings of hands. Her current commission was for Garrett’s album and, after a lengthy discussion, he’d revealed he wanted artwork featuring hands of all ages. So far, she’d only heard a few musical snippets and, without hearing the full album, she was struggling a little with developing a clear vision in her mind’s eye of the cover. Dr Marrs had promised to send her the full file by the end of the week.
Just as she picked up her pen, a wave of nausea washed over her. As quickly as she could, Lori dashed towards the bathroom just making it before she was violently sick. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, she took a few deep breaths. A realisation struck her moments before she was sick for a second time.
When she returned to her desk, she checked back in her diary. Resting her hand on her still flat stomach, she smiled and made a mental note to stop off at the drugstore on the way to collect the kids.
Birds were singing in the trees as Jake carried two of his guitars out to the rehearsal studio. There was still work to be done on several of the solos as well as some changes he wanted to make to a few of the other guitar parts. Some of the lyrics weren’t sitting quite right with him either and, as he opened the door to the rehearsal space, he admitted to himself that he was missing having Rich around as a sounding board.
Three drumkits were set up in the middle of the room. Laying his guitars down carefully, Jake listened to hear if there was anyone else in the building. All he could hear was the drone of the air conditioning and the birds tweeting outside in the trees. There was nothing lying about to indicate that the space was booked out and Dr Marrs hadn’t said he was expecting anyone out there. He was definitely alone in the building.
For the first half an hour, Jake made very little progress. He played through some of the stuff he wanted to improve on then moved onto some of the fun sections, enjoying playing for playing’s sake. Eventually, he settled on one solo that needed a lot of work. It was for a song tentatively titled Epidemic and his primary concern was that the original solo was too short for such an epic song. Soon, he was engrossed in his music, oblivious to the world around him.
Jake was so focussed on his guitar that he barely registered that the door had opened. He never looked up as he half-heard someone approaching. A cool hand brushed his neck and slid under the neck of his shirt.
“What the…….?” he gasped as he looked round.
The protest hung on his lips as they were met by a long, slow, passionate kiss.
“Nicole!”
“Sh,” whispered the tall, slender music teacher. “Those shoulders look so tense. Look like they need a massage.”
Before he could stop her, Nicole had pushed his broad leather guitar strap from his left shoulder and begun to knead the knots from his strong shoulders.
“So tense,” she purred as she leaned in close to his ear, flicking her tongue off his ear lobe. “Relax, Jake.”
Despite himself, Jake had to admit that the massage felt good. Her strong hands were easing the kinks out of his shoulders, easing the tension that been held there way too long. He groaned as she massaged deeper into the tight muscles.
“Take your shirt off,” suggested Nicole softly.
“No way!” stated Jake, wriggling out of her grasp.
“Relax,” whispered Nicole. “It’s just a shoulder rub. No one else is here.”
Before he could protest, she had reached down to his waist and begun easing his t-shirt upwards. With his guitar still in his lap, Jake allowed her to remove his shirt and resume the deep circular massage movements. Closing his eyes, he gave himself permission to enjoy the massage. As her thumbs worked the kinks out of his neck at the base of his skull, he sighed, feeling himself tingle as her fingers moved on to massage his scalp.
“See. Not so bad,” commented Nicole with a smile. “You might want to move that guitar. It’s sliding off your lap.”
Not wanting to risk damaging his Mz Hyde custom guitar, Jake slipped the strap off and stood it on a nearby stand.
“Now, where were we?” asked Nicole, returning her attention to his well-muscled body. “I love your ink. You should show it off more often.”
“No chance,” replied Jake. “Only at the beach or at the occasional Weigh Station show.”
“Pity,” sighed the music teacher as she brushed a soft kiss across his neck.
Her smooth warm hands moved further down his spine then glided up into his hair once more. Against his better judgement, Jake was feeling himself aroused by the intimacy of
