Free The Song Remains the Same by Kelli Jean Page A

slicked the taste of me onto my tongue.
    “You like it when I taste like you?” he asked.
    “Fuck yes!”
    “Yeah, me, too,” he growled.
    My gorgeous, wonderful Phil held nothing back, his cock pile-driving me into a state of utter bliss. He stretched his long fingers through my hair and pulled, exposing my neck for him to score his teeth over. I dug my fingers into the flesh of his back, gripping fistfuls of muscle with bruising force.
    I came and came and came.
    “Make love to me now…” I whimpered, feeling deliciously battered and bruised.
    Like a switch flipping, he turned gentle and sweet, thoroughly kissing me. He rode in and out with easy slick strokes, making me come one last time as he himself dripped over the edge.
    “I love you,” he whispered against my mouth, his cock twitching hard inside me.
    Phil pressed his Third Eye to mine, and my brain filled with the terror, pain, loss, heartache, hope, elation, frustration, fear, longing, desire, anguish, and love he had felt these last few weeks. Leaving had never been an option, but he had desperately tried to figure out how to make us whole again.
    “Damn, Phil…”
    “Don’t ever scare me like that again, Kenna. I died that day with you. My heart…she was gone.”
    “It’s not like I did it on purpose!”
    “I don’t care. I can’t exist without you.”

Phil had had a few days where it was a little difficult for him to sit down without wincing, and though I’d questioned whether I should have taken it as far as it had gone, he’d had no complaints.
    Freak. I’d catch him grinning when he felt the soreness.
    It wasn’t like he wanted a beating every time we would have sex. It was saved for rare occasions. He had encouraged me to bite him more though. I was really wondering if maybe he should give Sheri’s therapist a call. Not that I wondered too hard.
    Apparently, I was a freak, too, because I’d liked it just as much. Maybe I should be the one calling a therapist…
    About a week after my hearing had come back, Phil had wanted to discuss my plans for the future. To be honest, I hadn’t even thought of what I was supposed to do.
    Sitting at the kitchen island, chowing down on sushi, he looked at me, and I knew something was up.
    “Have you given any thoughts to what you wanna do now?” he asked.
    As though a great weight had descended upon my shoulders, I sagged on my stool. “What would you have me do, Phil?”
    “Marry me, and give me my fat little giant babies,” he promptly replied.
    “ Besides that, ass!”
    Mixing some soy sauce with wasabi, he said, “I want you to consider maybe working for me. For us . You know, NOLA’s Records.”
    “Huh?”
    He nodded and shoved a piece of sushi into his mouth. “Yeah.”
    “Doing what?”
    He shrugged.
    “Listen here, caveman, quit being all coy, and just spit it out.”
    Laying his chopsticks down, he laced his fingers together and rested his chin on top. “I want you to talent-scout for us. You’d let us know when you hear or see really good bands and write up reviews for us. That way, you could come on tour, for the whole tour, and you could give us and the crew treatments and do your doctor thing to keep you happy.”
    “Do my doctor thing ?”
    “You know what I mean. Look, if it had just been Rita who had died and not the fuckin’ clinic blowin’ up, I wouldn’t be askin’ this of you. You worked your ass off to be what you are, but I also know it ain’t what you really want to do. Will you think about it?”
    It seemed like the perfect solution. I could spend all my time listening to music, going to shows, and getting paid to do it, while still doing my doctor thing , if I were so inclined.
    “The guys think it would be awesome. They’ve all agreed.”
    “I’m sure,” I mumbled.
    “We’ve hired Alys as our personal accountant.”
    “Seriously?” I asked, wondering why she hadn’t told me about that. “Does she know?”
    He rolled his eyes…and then shot