Chapter 2: Let's get sizzlin'
Rayna was over by the refreshments table talking to Bucky, when Deacon suddenly appeared in front of them.
"Excuse me." he murmured, lightly placing one hand on her hip, leaning his body into hers, and reaching to the table behind her.
"Just need some water." He pulled back, his face only inches from hers, a dirty smirk in his eye.
Rayna froze, unable to move with Deacon up this close and personal, her nerve endings thrumming. As quickly as he had appeared, he turned away again, water bottle in hand, and she expelled a breath.
Bucky glanced at her in bewilderment. "Uh, are you guys…?" he couldn't find the words to finish.
She shook her head emphatically. "No! Bucky, no! I just… I don't know what's going on, that was not… not…"
Normal? Expected? Wanted? She didn't know herself, so just swiped a hand over her forehead and hoped that was the end of it.
Gruff's loud call interrupted any unfinished conversation.
"Allllllright! Let's get started. Ok, guys I want you over there; Rayna, come stand in front just here. Let's keep it casual, let's keep it fun!"
Rayna, slightly flustered, heeded Gruff's direction.
"Fun." she grumbled. Not fun if Deacon was going to toy with her. She did her best to avoid his eye for the first handful of shots, positioning herself as far away from him as she could manage. Even so, she could sense his gaze on her, feel the heat radiating from him.
Deacon was starting to enjoy the obvious discomfort that his attention was causing Rayna. She was uncharacteristically jittery, and actively avoiding eye contact. It had been a long, long time since he'd been able to make her blush with just a wayward glance, and he began to revel in their discreet game of cat and mouse, him moving ever closer, her shying away.
"Excellent! Right, R.J., D.C. – it's your time to shine. I want you up here-" gestured Gruff, "Deac, maybe lean against that speaker, and Ray, chuck an arm on his shoulder. Something like that. Let's get a bit of that famous Jaymes-Claybourne chemistry sizzlin'."
A hot flush shot up the back of Rayna's neck, and she cleared her throat self-consciously, moving at snail's pace towards Deacon, who was already leaning against the big speaker, his guitar in one hand, and a devilish look in his eye. She steeled herself to be strong and professional, despite the throbbing deep in her belly as she approached him. Gingerly, she propped a forearm on his shoulder, and didn't need to see Gruff's head dropping into his hands to know that it was happening.
"Ray!" Gruff shouted. "Are you kiddin' me? Cosy on in. It's you guys for Pete's sake. No time to be coy!"
"Alright, alright." she muttered, leaning her body slightly in towards Deacon who was as cool and composed as ever, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. She cursed him under her breath, and fervently pushed her hair back from her forehead.
"Gruff, c'mon! What is this for, anyways? Shouldn't this just be about the music?"
Gruff stared her down. "I swear to God, Rayna. If you don't gimme some of that damn sizzle, I will lose my job!"
Deacon gave her a wicked grin. "Come on, baby." he murmured. "Let's get sizzlin'."
Snaking an arm out he grabbed her waist and pulled her into his side. His perch against the speaker stole a few inches from his height, so their eyes were level and her nose only inches away. He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and felt her simultaneously tense up and melt under his touch. Somehow, no matter what circumstances it was under, having her in his arms always felt right.
Rayna's nerve endings fired instantaneously under his hands, burning a trail from hip to hip - from the gentle flutter of his fingers against her waist setting her middle alight, right through to the solid warmth of his side pressed up against hers. All the apprehension she'd been feeling towards him that morning was draining away, replaced by something far more powerful, more primal. She'd been resisting staring into those eyes. Those deep pools of memory, of knowledge, of her, of them... one look and she'd fall straight in and drown a beautiful death. If she could keep outside of a certain circumference away from him, she would be ok, but if she overstepped, she was a goner. Ironically, the only way she knew where the boundary was, was by overstepping.
But, like a magnet, her eyes were inexplicably drawn to his. And just like that, 14 years of resolve and strength and walls and guarding was gone as she disappeared down the rabbithole. The room faded into nothing around her, and only Deacon was there, growing sharper and sharper in focus until she could almost see every quivering cell that made up his being. She found herself relaxing into his shoulder, her hand slipping around his neck, unwittingly caressing his nape so softly he uttered a guttural groan, and the cheeky smile that had been playing at the corners of his mouth faded and his expression radiated with an intensity she hadn't seen for years. His eyes burned a blue desire of need and want and promise, and they drew a painfully slow line down to her lips, which caused her tongue instinctively, seductively, to flicker out and moisten them.
Her stomach clenched and flipped, and she felt as if she stood on a precipice, wavering over a long, terrifying, stimulating fall. She tried not to look down, but all she could do was stare into the abyss and with ragged breath, edge her toes towards the brink then tumble, tumble, into the sweet depth of Deacon that had been calling her for so long. Her body responded unwittingly, pressing against his, sinking into comfort once so familiar, now so forbidden, and her lips tingled from the memory of the feverish kiss of the previous day, parting of their own accord.
"Woah! Ok! That is the chemistry we're talking about! But keep it PG, ok?!" Gruff's call cut through their heady reverie. "Now Deac, if you could stand side on, guitar in one hand, Rayna – face him."
Rayna jumped, suddenly remembering there was an entire crew gathered around them. She managed one short glance at Gruff and his camera, then, like a deeper force within, her eyes were drawn back to Deacon, who was now standing, hand still on her waist, gently easing her even closer, his guitar in the other hand, discreetly hiding anything he felt below the waist.
The earlier power he had felt over her was quickly dissolving into helplessness as he stared into her and crashed for her all over again, just like he had the first time he laid eyes on her at The Bluebird all those years ago. Swallowing hard, he angled his body ever so slightly towards her, abruptly reminded of the tight leash she had held over him for so long, and his incapability of doing anything about it. He was her puppet and always had been. In amongst all the refired lust in his belly, there was a tiny twinge of resentment twisting through his soul at the fact that he was so powerless against her. He had forgone his own life, career, chance at love and a family simply to tag along in her shadow. He could have been someone, but all he had ended up being was Rayna's hired someone.
Gruff's voice interrupted his bitter musing. "Everyone over that way, I wanna get a few group shots, let's keep it light, let's remember 20 years of good times!"
Twenty years of good times, huh. Thought Deacon, as he gathered with the band. Sometimes it felt like 20 years of handcuffs. But would he have it any other way? Next to him, Rayna slid one arm up around his neck, caressing a slow line down his jaw with her thumb, and in that one tiny gesture, he was reminded that none of the other might-have-beens mattered. He wouldn't choose a life without her in it. No matter where she led, where she dragged him, he would happily follow, unless she forbade him otherwise. Sometimes it seemed like a penance for all of the sins he'd committed, a sentence that would never be fulfilled. His heart was shackled to hers, and he never wanted to be released.
As the familiar, delicious feel of Rayna so close engulfed him, Deacon almost felt like this was just the continuation of the elevator. Rayna was just as close, pelvis achingly pressed against his own, breathless desire rolling between them. Her eyes burned trails into his soul, and instinctively he leaned his head closer to hers, thanking God he had one hand on his guitar, grounding him in a necessary way to keep him from soaring into the flames.
Rayna felt herself melting into him, the walls she'd kept strong for all these years crumbling into nothing and she lost all sense of herself and she didn't care. All she could feel was the heat of Deacon's body radiating into her own, the smell of his skin primal and sensual, his eyes her homing beacon.
"And break it up! Look towards me!" Gruff's interspersed instructions were the only things keeping them from dissolving into one another. "Now, D.C! Stand behind Ray, hand on her arm, or hip…"
Gruff himself saw them slipping into a realm that he hadn't been privy to since the first time he'd worked with them a million years ago when they were a passionate couple, and it was happening again right before his eyes. It was electric, and would have been beautiful if they were still a couple - but to the world, Rayna was a married woman. He didn't know how to stop what he had just engineered, he couldn't put out the inferno that had been lit this morning, burning out of control. With a questioning look at Bucky, he found Rayna's manager to be just as perturbed, confused as to what was unfolding before them, and Bucky opened his hands to Gruff, shaking his head.
Bucky had been with Rayna since very near the beginning, and he had seen everything there was to see between her and Deacon: the good, the bad, and the really, really ugly. With conscious effort, he had always managed to stay well over his side of staying out of her business, and stuck to managing her career. He had never once voiced any opinion over her personal life, besides to offer a caring shoulder to cry on and an agreeable nod to whatever she was deciding was best for her on any given day. But watching her and Deacon now, in front of Gruff's camera, he was unmistakably aware of a shift between them, for better or for worse. Something had gone down, and now it was bleeding its truth in front of a camera, just as they were processing it themselves, it seemed. Bucky grimaced. This could go either way. It could be the most beautiful thing, or it could be a perfect storm, taking down everyone and everything in its path.
"Rayna! Eyes to me. D.C, eyes down on your guitar." Gruff tried to give them something else than each other to focus on, but it made no difference. The electricity between them crackled palpably, and he almost felt embarrassed for the onlookers, but everyone was caught up in it, powerless to look away.
Like Deacon could have looked anywhere else, even if he'd wanted to. His body was gently pressed against her back now, and it was taking all of his strength not to grind against her. Chest tightening with desire, he bent his mouth to her nape, only just managing to keep himself from touching.
Rayna could feel his breath against her neck, and her core throbbed with desire. She could almost feel herself getting wetter by the second. She closed her eyes instinctively, and couldn't help the "Deac…" that slipped out of her lips in a whisper. For a hot, wet moment, she'd felt him respond to her, pushing against her harder and drawing his face closer, stubble running an electric track down her skin.
And then her eyes flipped open in confusion and horror as the next thing she heard out of his mouth was,
"Stacey?"
His body suddenly tensed against hers, and she twisted towards him in question. Snatching his hand from her waist, he stared beyond her, beyond Gruff and the crew, towards the door.
The pretty blonde woman looked terrified to be put on the spot.
"Oh! I'm so sorry! They said you were done, and I just… I thought, I wanted to…" her sweet innocent voice swirled apologetically towards them from the door, almost as horrified as they were at her interruption. With a sickening jolt, Rayna was slammed back into the real world, realising how blatant her and Deacon's emotional display had just been, and how she had just laid herself out, vulnerable and raw. She jumped back from Deacon, who was already steadily putting space between them, any electricity she had felt before was dissolving into uncomfortable zaps and she glanced up at him, hoping for some clarification. Deacon, ever the awkward gentleman, was trying to manage the damage between Rayna and Stacey, and thought that acting aloof to both of them was the sensible step forward. But watching Stacey's face crumble as she realised she was way out of her depth, and remembering that him and Rayna were actually, officially nothing, he focused only on the blonde woman, striding forward to close the distance between them.
With a steadily sinking heart, Rayna watched Deacon walk away from her.
She felt like she had been laid bare upon a table and tortured, hot tears threatening to spill from behind her mascaraed eyes. She suddenly felt stupid, idiotic, a total fool to have exposed herself in that way in front of so many people, especially goddamn Deacon and his goddamn girlfriend, and she could feel her solid professional armour slipping away along with her composure.
At the same time, Gruff was aware of the potentially damaging shift between his two stars, and stepped up to command the room.
"Right! Guys, you're good to go; Deac, get outta here, my camera can't handle any more of that face. Rayna! I need you over there, let's get a few solo shots for the article. Give me that beautiful country smile." His business-as-usual manner snapped everyone into action.
"Uh, ok, great, thanks Gruff, catch you again soon." Deacon stumbled forward, shaking Gruff's hand and heading towards the interruption. He was too shaken to steal a glance back at Rayna, he could only focus on his girlfriend standing in front of him, hands clasped, a hopeful smile on her face. As he moved away from Rayna, it felt as though he were wading through mud, as if his whole body knew that he was heading in the wrong direction, and he had to force himself to grasp Stacey's elbow and lead her out of the room, feeling like a horrible imposter walking into a parallel life.
Rayna stared after them for a breathless moment, until Gruff brought her back to the present.
"Ray. Rayna, honey. Focus. You got this. You're the queen, girl. Look at me. Only me." Gruff's commanding voice and unshakable tone brought her focus home. The tears stinging the back of her eyes were held off for a precious few moments, and she managed to finish the shoot with her dignity intact.
She hugged a sombre Gruff thank you and goodbye, and stumbled out of the room with Bucky close behind her.
"Rayna. Rayna!" Bucky caught her by the elbow. "Well, that was… intense. Are you… is everything ok?"
She stared into the concerned face of the only other man who had been by her side all these years.
"Ahh. I don't know, Buck. I really don't know. I think I just need to go and clear my head a bit."
Bucky nodded, and gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. "Ok, well you have no more commitments today, so go do you, and I will see you tomorrow morning for the press junket."