Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
DJ was quiet for a while in the car, but when he finally spoke, he proved he’d been paying attention to Logan and Roy’s conversation.
“So that monthly dungeon you and Logan were talking about. It’s only a few days away. We could go to that. Logan did say the invite included a plus-one.”
“Maybe I already have someone in mind for it. I’m a popular guy with a big social life.”
“Does binge-watching Ice Truckers with your tropical fish count as a social life?”
“Leave my fake fish out of this. Smart ass.”
A faint smile appeared on DJ’s serious lips. “You knew them. Madison and Logan. That’s why you didn’t worry about stopping there.”
“I didn’t know Logan’s wife ran Naughty Bits, but once I found that out, it did help, yeah.”
“Roy, I need to stop for gas,” Mike called out from the front. “Does the truck stop coming up work?”
“Yeah.” Naughty Bits was in Matthews, a small town that bordered Charlotte, so as they headed away from it, they were on a rural four-lane highway.
The station had a produce stand with a bunch of wooden carvings for sale grouped around it, everything from welcome signs to cheerful ducks, to gnomes with large noses.
“I need a restroom break,” Roy said. “DJ, you?”
“No, but Mike probably needs peanut M&Ms and a Coke. I’d like a Cheerwine and a moon pie.” DJ peeled off a twenty to offer to Roy, but Roy shook his head.
“I’ll expense the quarter hour rate to you.”
“Fifteen minutes of your time is the cost of Gucci loafers, not a pack of M&Ms.”
Roy flashed him a grin, but then gave him a different kind of look. “I’m buying your soda and moon pie, Dory.”
DJ’s expression heated as Roy ran his knuckles over the inside of one knee and gave the leg of his jeans a little tug. But then DJ’s gaze became more pensive.
“You know…I probably will give Marjorie’s number to Gilda.”
“Another way to let Marjorie know how you’re doing?” Roy kept his tone neutral.
DJ pressed his lips together. “I should go see her soon. But not today. Okay?”
He’d asked permission on purpose. Roy suspected if he felt DJ should see Marjorie today, DJ would follow his lead.
It wasn’t the first time he’d deferred to Roy for his grieving process. Make sure I don’t stay in bed too long. The kid knew what he needed and, even when he lacked the will to do it himself, he’d reach for the tool he needed to make it happen.
Which was Roy.
“I think that’s okay. For today. I don’t need to tell you to stay in the car, right?”
“I was going to go play in traffic and chase cars, but fine. Be a killjoy.”
Roy put his hand on DJ’s knee. “Promise me, Dory.”
The sternness, Master and protection detail both, caught DJ’s full attention. He sobered and gave Roy a nod. “I promise. Sir.”
He mouthed the last so Mike wouldn’t hear it, but the kindling in his eyes went straight to Roy’s cock.
They’d just been in an erotica shop and, no matter the tone of their other discussions, those images had to be playing through DJ’s head like they were Roy’s.
Whatever hotel they chose tonight would need a sturdy bed.
Especially after Roy had to watch DJ touch all those bondage toys.
The truck stop had a bank of windows in front, which let Roy keep a close eye on the vehicle and anyone coming near it.
Mike had situational awareness training as well.
On the way to the checkout counter, Roy stopped by a rack of bill caps and added one to his purchase, gray and black with a Peterbilt logo.
Then he stood at the window, sack of groceries in hand, and dialed Warren.
“So how’s prep going for the fan memorial service?”
“Good. We’ll pay attention to anyone near the front who looks like they’re gloating. Or pissed, because DJ won’t be present, after the rumor’s been floated that he will be.”
“All right. We were just at a store where DJ was recognized. She’s married to a friend I’ve asked to keep things on the downlow, and I trust him to do that. However, it raises the possibility that she wasn’t the only one who saw him. It’s time for me to switch things up.”
“Before it’s all over social media: ‘I think I saw DJ James,’” Warren agreed. “Sure you don’t want an impersonator to do a cameo at the service?”
“DJ nixed that. He won’t screw with his fans. I’ll rent a car under one of my aliases and let Mike go home. All our future hotel rooms will be the same.”
Warren grunted. “I’d feel far better if I was there to cover your ass.”
“That’s why G keeps telling me to watch out for you.”
Warren snorted. “The women in my life drive me crazy, but never enough to change sides. I’m too much of a pussy hound.”
“I’ve heard that about you. Talk to you later.”
The hotel Roy chose put them in easy distance of both The Rocking Duck and the event Logan had discussed.
Earlier in the day, they’d bid Mike a fond farewell.
Roy had picked up a roomy Ford Glider and rented a room in a midrate hotel.
Roy chose the two queen bed option, wanting to give DJ his space without letting him out of sight for any extended length of time.
After DJ showered and donned a pair of cotton pajama bottoms, he headed for the bed. He looked tired and drained. They’d picked up a sandwich for dinner, and he’d eaten it without enthusiasm.
“Would you like to share the bed with me?”
Roy looked up from the table where he was finishing his chips and checking his email. “If you ask the right way.”
The spark in DJ’s eye said he appreciated the sexual tease, even if he wasn’t up to doing much with it. “Would you share my bed, Sir?”
“Yes, Dory. I will. Go ahead and lie down. I’ll join you shortly.”
By the time Roy changed to sleep shorts and came to bed, DJ looked mostly asleep.
The TV volume was down to a murmur, left on a nature documentary.
As Roy approached the bed, DJ shifted over and held up the covers behind him, a courtesy and awareness that touched Roy.
He molded himself against DJ’s back, bringing more warmth, and heard a soft noise of gratitude.
He wrapped his arm around Dory’s chest, put his nose to his hair and let out a deep sigh. “Not a bad way to end the day.”
“No. I don’t need extremes, Roy. My whole life is extreme.” DJ’s fingers slid along Roy’s arm. Back, forth. The kid was thinking. Considering what he wanted to say next.
“Your job, you always have to be alert, ready for the threat. When you’re with a submissive, I bet you like tapping into those deep, still waters, going into peaceful bliss together.
It may sound boring but,” DJ took a shuddering breath, and Roy could feel the ache in him.
The need. “It’s anything but. Sir? Would you… just a quiet kind of thing…”
Roy had anticipated, the way a good bodyguard should. He retrieved the tube of lubricant he’d put in the pocket of the shorts and took them off before pushing DJ’s bottoms to his thighs. Just enough to access the lovely, tight ass.
“Put your hand on your cock, DJ. Stroke yourself. Slow and easy. I want to hear that sexy breath catch you do when you get hard.”
DJ complied, his head dipping down to bare his nape. Not because he couldn’t find his dick, but because he’d already learned his Master liked putting his teeth there when he fucked him.
Roy slicked up his cock, and stroked it between DJ’s buttocks. “You were teasing me in the store today.”
“Some. I couldn’t look at any of it without thinking of you using all of it on me.
” DJ’s breath caught, just as Roy had predicted.
The pleasure of hearing it rippled through Roy, making his cock harder, though it was more than ready for the job at hand.
He eased his way in, and wrapped his arm around DJ again, putting his hand over DJ’s so they were stroking him together.
“Oh…”
“I want to do this harder, faster. Take you completely. But I also want to do it the way you said. Quiet. Deep. Not ripple the still waters.”
“Well…anytime you want to clone yourself…but I only have the one ass…”
Roy set his teeth to his nape for the first taste, a sharp nip.
DJ quivered. “You also have a perfectly good mouth.
Maybe I go still and deep here, while the other me fucks your mouth like a demon, gripping your hair tight as I shove myself all the way down your throat.
That way, when both of me come, I know every bit of me gets inside.
A convulsive buck of his hips. “Roy…Sir…”
“Be quiet, Dory.” A gentle yet menacing command. “Quiet and still. A lot of volatile things can happen in still waters.”
Roy was a light enough sleeper to know when DJ left the bed. But he only cracked his eyelids, because there were moments a man needed to be alone with his grief. Roy watched him, though, ready in case that changed.
This room had a small couch near the curtained window. DJ sat down there and stared out the crack. Earlier, he’d put his notebook on the coffee table, a pen lying upon it, but he hadn’t touched it since. He didn’t do so now, either.
In time, he scooted around so he could lie on his side and draw his knees up, making himself as small as he could be.
It was a disturbingly childlike pose for such a tall man.
He remained silent, except for one sobbing breath.
Roy stayed where he was, but he stayed awake.
Only when DJ’s breath evened out did he rise.
He spread an extra blanket over DJ before he sat down in the chair next to the couch, a silent sentinel.
What happened when someone mattered so much that the end of their time together brought debilitating levels of emotional pain? How could a person not mire himself in memories, the only way to hold onto those missing people?
He was considering Dory’s situation, his besieged heart and soul, but the thought couldn’t help but point toward the two of them as well.