Chapter 6 #3
A shuddering breath from DJ pushed everything even closer to Roy’s body. It felt damn good, far better than it should have. That stupid “coming home” thing that romantics talked about.
Except that tiny, relieved sigh said DJ felt it too. Not just delusion goaded by hormones.
Okay, fine. It might be the biggest rationalization in the history of bad decisions, but if this really was what the Powers-That-Be wanted, Roy would go down the road. He’d believe in it.
Roy explored his chest with one hand, the other remaining at DJ’s hip, his thumb under his waistband. He teased both nipples, and when he flicked one sharply with his nail, DJ’s hips jerked against his. “Oh, God,” DJ murmured. “Hell…”
Roy put the heel of his other hand against DJ’s cock and stroked the full, rigid length. “So…the bisexual thing. That’s true.”
"I like pussy and cock.” DJ’s voice was thick. “Our dicks aren't that picky, are they? Man, woman…that fetching goat I saw in Greece. I couldn't get her consent, so the hook up was a non-starter."
"Idiot."
DJ laughed and pressed his forehead against the wall. “You…you’re not bisexual.”
“No. Been all about the boys since I knew what my dick was for.” Roy slid his hand away from DJ’s cock and then held him flat to the wall, letting him feel the demand of his cock against his ass as he covered his hands with his. “You want me inside you, right here, don’t you?”
DJ nodded. “Yes. Yes, Sir.”
“You know hearing you call me Sir makes me want to do it even more.” Roy did a little extra push with his hips and won another pleading moan from DJ’s melodic voice.
“Not manipulation. I just like calling you Sir. But decent perk.”
Kid just couldn’t help his mouth. Roy stroked it with one hand, then moved to DJ’s throat. “How do you want to decompress after a show, Dory? Get someone to blow you, bury yourself in a willing pussy? Go work out? Meditate? Watch cartoons?”
As Roy ticked off each option, he was rubbing himself against DJ’s ass, slow strokes of his cock against the tight buttocks.
The way he used his strength and greater mass to hold him against the wall, DJ got the message and didn’t move, though his body was an electric wire quivering with the desire to do so.
He also recognized that Roy wasn’t looking for an answer. Not from him. When Roy tightened his hand around his throat, a sound of need vibrated against his palm.
“How about serving a Master?” Roy asked.
“Ding, ding, ding.” DJ’s breath whistled through taut lips. “Never…done it, but that would be my top choice.”
Roy was amused by the sound effect, but the truthful response that followed it hit him in a more serious place. “All right then. When you get back to your hotel tonight, get in the shower. Loosen up those muscles and clean yourself up. Then I want you in your bed. I’ll come to you.”
“How?” DJ swallowed. “I mean, how do you want me there? Wearing what, in what position?”
“Tell me how you’ve imagined it.”
When there was a pause, Roy blew on the back of his ear, intrigued by the gooseflesh that rippled over the kid’s shoulder. “I’m not going to laugh at anything you say, Dory. Tell me.”
“I’m naked. On my knees, pillows stuffed under me, so my ass is in the air, my chest on the bed, hands…over my head. Waiting. Waiting as long as my Master requires.”
Heady stuff for a Dom to hear coming from his sub’s lips, knowing how much DJ meant it.
As Roy absorbed the visual, he had to quell the overwhelming desire to fuck DJ here and now.
And later, when that treasure was presented to him, because it was his right to demand it at any time, and however often he desired.
“All right. Then that’s what you do. But arms out to your sides instead of behind your head, and put a sheet over yourself. I prefer to uncover you, and hotel air makes you cold.”
DJ routinely gave his bandmates and Moss a key card to his suite, even if they had their own rooms, but Roy had put a temporary end to that because of how easily room keys could be stolen. Only Roy or the members of his team watching DJ’s door had access.
Tonight, DJ wouldn’t have a roommate. But he would have a bedmate.
“My shift ends at midnight. Tell me again what your safeword is.”
“Eruption.”
“You really are a Van Halen fan. Whenever this is happening, I’m Sir. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir.” DJ’s expression had become serene. The kid was blissed out just from a conversation about submitting. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You may piss me off between now and then, or I’ll wise up and think better of it.”
DJ’s fingers curled against the wall, and tension shimmered through his body. “Don’t,” he said hoarsely. “I mean, we can bullshit one another and tease, but for this, after you’ve put it out there…please don’t.”
“Okay. It’s okay.” Roy dropped a kiss on his shoulder, rubbing a sandpaper jaw against his skin, letting himself linger a few precious seconds. “Sorry, kid. I won’t. For tonight it’s for sure. You have my promise.”
The tension left the body pressed against his, and DJ’s eyes closed again.
Roy’s earpiece beeped. “Band’s gone and people have decided you went out another door,” G said. “It’s clearing out fast.”
“We’ll take the kitchen exit and the backup car parked there. Make sure it’s clear.”
“You got it.”
Roy backed up a step and had DJ turn. With a Master’s appraisal, he studied the slightly unfocused gaze, pursed mouth, bare chest and impressive erection under his jeans.
DJ was doing his own assessment, his gaze pinned down below Roy’s belt. He moistened his lips. “If you want me to go down on you, right here…I really want to. I know it’s not the same thing with you as that other time.”
“I know.” Roy touched his face, bringing his eyes back up. “But I want to claim your ass first, and that decision belongs to me. Right?”
“Yes, Sir.” DJ’s eyes became even more intent as Roy spoke. He seemed to suddenly realize he was trembling, and looked surprised at the strength of his own reaction. Roy gripped his shoulder.
“It’s okay. That’s normal. Someone recently shot at you. You just had a high energy performance. And your first real submissive experience is on the night’s schedule. It’s a lot for a sensitive guy.”
“Asshole.” But DJ’s expression was laced with quiet appreciation. He brought a hand up slowly, making sure it was okay before he gripped Roy’s wrist. “Thanks. Sir. Thanks for taking care of me.”
There were a lot of levels to that statement, and he saw all of them in DJ’s brown eyes. The force of Roy’s own reaction to it was unsettling, so he tamped it all down, and stepped back into his professional security role.
“You’re welcome. Let’s get you out of here.”