AN: Here's a bit of a longer chapter thankfully. Not the steam I was planning but some more flirting at least.
enjoy
It was the look in Deacon's eyes in the second before the elevator doors shut that caused her to make her next decision. He was going to come to her. She would not lay a single finger on Deacon until he touched her first. It wasn't an unfamiliar game; far from it. She was 18 the first time. Well, to be honest she was 16 when she started the flirting and taunting but she was 18 the first time Deacon gave in. Almost two years of growing up and testing limits and taking charge of her own life, all the while swimming joyfully and a little trepidatiously in the big dirty world of professional music. Hormones were screaming through her body on a constant basis and thankfully ambition, and healthy dose of common sense, kept her from making mistakes that were bigger than she could handle.
Those had been heady times. Sixteen years old, not a virgin but not really experienced at all and there she was kicked out of her father's mansion and learning what power and vulnerability really were. Rayna had never been the type of beautiful girl who didn't realize the effect she had on people. She had always had the nicest clothes, time to primp and experiment and a legion of country club boys calling her up and knocking on her door whom she had little interest in. Then she was playing in dimly lit cafes and bars wearing sparkly boots and tight shirts singing love songs and she saw how people responded, both to her and the music. That was the power, knowing how to say no with a smile and make people like hearing it. The vulnerability part was one half learning how to swim in the bigger pond she'd swam into. The other half was not knowing how yet to say yes.
So she danced around the edges, went on dates and went to parties, had boyfriends and was kept safe by her own principles and determination and the combined reputations of Watty White and Lamar Wyatt. She flirted the way a foal knows how to run only a few hours after birth. Time and experience just made her even better at it. Deacon was three years older than her and treated the little firecracker princess with just enough room to flex her claws without letting them scratch him. He would flirt back with a drawling charm that set him apart from more assertive guys and their bad pickup lines. He made no effort to pretend that he didn't like looking at her, talking with her, playing music with her but no way was he going to dive into what looked like the biggest pile of trouble he had ever laid eyes on. Sixteen years old with more ammunition than any girl he'd ever met, more ambition than he'd seen on anyone yet in that town and Deacon Claybourne wasn't stupid enough to stick is hand directly into that flame.
Didn't mean though that he didn't like the warmth. Didn't mean that she was going to take it easy on him once she realized that he wasn't going to be doing any of the chasing.
If there was a type of guy that Rayna appreciated more than anyone those days, it was a guy who could flirt without expectation or hurt feelings. Men and boys with sunny dispositions who would compliment her, tease her and make her feel alive and happy without any pressure. For the most part Deacon was like that back then; easy smiles and darlin's on his lips as often as songs. He was also moody and quick to anger and didn't walk with the confidence he'd develop later on. Back then it was guys like Liam who made her days brighter. Boys with swagger, who could either back it up or not, and who loved playing the game.
Whenever Deacon and Rayna were on stage together though Deacon started to shine. His guitar playing sounded smoother and followed her voice in counterpoint and as they sang together more often they began to improvise and play off of one another and each sounded twice as good with the other than they did apart. She was seventeen when she first heard him sing a love song on stage by himself. It was one he'd written and afterwards she tossed her hair over her shoulder and asked him point blank if it was about her. He said something vague and called her princess and never answered the question. That was when she decided.
It took six months of long looks, short shorts, casual touches and playing with her hair constantly before she was ready to kick him in frustration. She flirted outrageously with other boys when he was watching, which only managed to start fights, first between him and a bass player at an open mike, and then later between the two of them. All that accomplished was the two of them saulking for two weeks. What finally made Deacon grab her wrist, tilt her chin up and kiss her was a song she wrote. She really should have figured that out sooner.
As their relationship grew over the years, and their love provided a safe privacy for Rayna to develop her sensuality, the games grew with them. If she was going to be home before him, he could find her in their living room in nothing but panties dancing in the living room, totally ignoring him even though she had to have heard his truck pull up. He would never forget until the day he died the lap dance she'd given him to Honky Tonk Woman, slapping his hands if he tried to touch her before the song had finished.
Deacon and Rayna had been together for about ten years and if either of them even hinted that the sex was boring, they would have been struck by lightening on the spot for lying. Deacon knew how to turn her inside out, drive her crazy and make scream all at the same time and gave as good as he got. There were games within games within games between them and Rayna had picked her weapons to end this thirteen year armistice. Deacon had heard the battle horn sounding loud and clear and now it was only a question of how hard he was going to make her work for it and how long he could resist.
Both acts were scheduled for a twenty minute sound check each that night. Everything had gone perfectly the night before and the equipment was all set up but you don't take chances with an arena tour of this size in front of that many paying fans. Juliette, and then Rayna, would have time to run through two or three songs, test out the connections and sound quality and then an hour later fans would start being let in from the lines stretching around the United Center.
Deacon was up on stage leading the band while Juliette paced the stage and did the tame soundcheck version of Telescope. Rayna was at the side stage watching him. Once Juliette was done, she walked straight off stage and back to her dressing room, not even noticing Rayna in the shadows by the gear. The band took a bit longer to unplug their instruments, even as roadies rushed the stage and started switching Juliette's set up with Rayna's. The lady herself climbed up on stage and Deacon's eyes swerved to her before he even knew what he was seeing.
Cutoff denim shorts and a St. Louis Rams shirt that he hadn't seen in at least fifteen years. The shirt was big on her but tucked into the cutoffs that just made the words 'Rayna's ass!' flash in his brain like a strobe light. Damn; she looked like she rolled right out of his bed or was just walking inside from sitting on the boat dock at his cabin. Deacon absent mindedly took his guitar case from a roadie and put the guitar inside while more than half watching the most bewitching woman he'd ever met.
Rayna wasn't interested in being any more coy than she absolutely needed to be and sauntered right up to Deacon.
"Hey" she said. Deacon nodded in reply and then swept his eyes up and down her body, deliberately hiding his appreciation,
"That's my shirt" he replied, sounding annoyed.
"Well, seems to be it's been living in my closet since about, oh, maybe 1998 so I figured it was mine now." she replied. Shit he thought, she's kept a sweaty t-shirt she grabbed off his floor one morning for the entire time she was married and now she's getting divorced. If he'd been in a worse mood he would have said something cruel about her marriage but his brain was firing off memories, or maybe just fantasies, of her slipping that shirt over naked breasts one morning. It was also reminding him of her tight cutoffs and how much he wanted to run his fingers gently along the bottom of those shorts and feel the white denim fringe brushing against her warm thighs.
"Well it always did look better on you I suppose. Little casual for sound check though isn't it?" He couldn't remember the last time he saw her wearing a t-shirt. The most casual thing she ever wore in public was jeans and those soft long sweaters she liked.
Rayna shrugged, "No one cares what I wear to soundcheck as long as I've got my rhinestones and boots on at showtime." He couldn't help but chuckle at that. A few beats of silence passed before Rayna spoke again. "You know Watty's watching the show tonight?"
"Yea, I heard that. When's he getting here?" Deacon asked as he picked up his guitar case.
"Just before showtime" replied Rayna. "We'll be in my dressing room if you want to stop by and say hi before the show starts." she offered.
Deacon nodded again, otherwise keeping a pretty blank face. Too blank to be natural thought Rayna. "Could do," he replied non committedly "I'll definitely see him after Juliette's set too."
Rayna smiled, actually happy with his vague answer. This wasn't going to be as good if it was easy. "Alright then" she drawled, "Have a good show." and she turned away from him to go find her mic for soundcheck.
Rayna had spent a lot of time in her life being places she didn't want to be and not letting it show. The tour had done about twenty five shows so far and after watching the first two shows Juliette put on, Rayna had generally not caught more than one or two numbers of Juliette's act. She was going to spend the second night in Chicago watching the whole glitter bomb with Watty which was more upsetting than watching Deacon play guitar for an hour was really worth.
The stage was all set and the crowd was chanting. Juliette wasn't late yet but everyone was waiting for her to strut out through the side stage and great the crowd. Rayna almost didn't recognize the star when she walked past in jeans and dress shirt, all her long blond hair straight and simple. She took the stage and started talking to the audience. One thing Rayna could respect about that kid was she was always entertaining at least.
Then Juliette invited Deacon up to center stage, looked up into his eyes and started to sing and Rayna stopped being entertained.
