Our voices melded, creating perfect harmonies that vibrated through my entire body. It was nothing like singing along with a recording of him performing. It was alive, immediate, and deeply arousing in its intimacy as we vocally became one.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Chance. The stage lights caught the gold in his hair, illuminating him like some kind of rock-and-roll angel. His body moved with the music as if it flowed through his veins, each gesture an extension of thenotes we created together. In that moment, I realized how much I had missed the intimate connection that only comes from creating something profound with another soul who experienced music the way I did.
Chance continued singing, his voice swelling with the song.
Your breath on my throat is where it belongs,
Every scar of you sings my song.
So tear me apart, split me whole,
Carve your name into my marrow.
The lyrics gave me graphic visuals of pinning Chance beneath me as I pounded into his willing body. Combined with our vocal foreplay, my cock stirred to life behind my guitar. It felt as if he had written the song for us, even though he composed it years before we’d met.
My fingers danced across the strings with renewed confidence. Each note felt like a revelation, each harmony a confession of feelings I was only beginning to understand. I’d performed with others before but never experienced anything like the perfect fusion of our voices, the sense of completion that went beyond the music to bind our souls together.
All I crave is your command,
Chain me down, make me yours.
If I lose myself, let it be to you,
I’ll crawl to beg for what you can’t undo.
Early beamed with pride, joy, understanding, and a knowing look. I’d forgotten what it felt like to fall in love with someone new, to create something beautiful with a person who makes your soul sing.
Making direct eye contact with Chance again, the intense vibe we shared transcended the physical. It had never been clearer that he was more to me than a casual hookup. I wanted to keep him, even after his filming in Sunnyside ended. The revelation was powerful but didn’t distract me from the performance. Instead, it fueled my passion, making each note more meaningful, each harmony more perfect.
Chapter Twenty-Five
CHANCE
My body burnedwith awareness of Duke beside me, his presence as commanding onstage as it was in every other aspect of his life. The crowd had disappeared into a hazy blur. All I could focus on was Duke’s powerful form next to me, the way his fingers expertly worked the guitar strings, and how his voice wrapped around mine like a physical caress.
As we reached the second chorus, our passion blazed hotter. Duke’s rich baritone took the lead.
I need your hands, I need your grip,
To pull me closer, to make me spill.
Leave me trembling, wrecked and bare,
Take all of me, leave nothing to spare.
Chasing the last light, get me there.
Duke’s resonant tone wrapped around each wordwith devastating honesty, as though he wasn’t simply singing lyrics but making promises to me. The real emotion in his delivery made the hairs on my arms stand on end. It felt less like a performance and more like a confession.
My knees weakened as our gazes met. The intensity of his slate-gray eyes pinned me in place, making it difficult to remember the words I’d written years ago.
Flood me, drown me, leave nothing unfound.
Strip me bare till there’s nothing unbound.
Break me, own me, I still won’t let go,
If I bleed for you, then let me bleed out,
