Chapter 32
(Steel)
I woke to the feel of fingertips dancing up my arm and the cry of gulls on the beach. Sea salt-scented air filled the room, carried by the breeze that wafted in from the windows. We’d arrived last night, exhausted as hell, to a beach house backlit by the moon.
And yes, it was on the beach.
After nine days at the studio with Jagger and the Damaged Saints, I’d been free to catch up with Kit and Rebel, who’d wrapped up their album the night before.
Exhausted texts and bleary-eyed videochats had kept me from missing them too much, but not by much.
Carrying our bags up the steps to Rebel’s bedroom took the last of our energy, and we’d tumbled onto the California King, me in the center, as they draped arms and legs across me.
“What time is it?” I murmured and sat up, looking for a clock on the nightstand like there always was in their hotel room.
“Time is irrelevant here,” Rebel said, voice coming from the opposite side of the caresses that had moved to my spine.
“I’m not awake enough for a Zen lesson,” Kit protested.
“Not Zen,” Rebel said. “There are no clocks in the house. When I’m here, I don’t care what time it is.”
“I can work with that,” I said. “So, what’s on the agenda for the day?”
“No agendas,” Kit said. “That has to go along with the whole time is irrelevant thing.”
“Now you’re catching on,” Rebel said.
“So…” I began, intending to ask if we needed to kickstart the day with a grocery order, when Rebel cut me off.
“Just go with the flow, man,” Rebel said. “The day is whatever we make of it.”
Now that was going to take some getting used to.
“After months of Draven’s daily itineraries, it’ll be nice to wake up and not have to check my email,” Kit said, giving voice to exactly what I was thinking too.
“No alarms going off on my phone,” Rebel said. “No frowny face emojis from Draven when I’m not where I’m supposed to be two minutes before I’m supposed to be there. Nothing but lazy day bliss.”
“The only thing we’re lacking is room service,” I said.
“That can always be remedied with Door Dash,” Rebel said. “And a giant grocery order.”
A loud series of pops was followed by Rebel’s satisfied sigh when he finished cracking his neck.
“I don’t care what you say,” Kit muttered. “That just sounds painful.”
Rebel laughed, leaving me very aware of his thigh pressed against my cock. “You know what the worst part about mornings is?”
“What?” Kit grumbled, his arm growing heavy against my shoulder, like he was trying to go back to sleep.
“Having to get out of bed,” Rebel declared, shifting away in a rustle of sheets.
The thick-ass, comfy-as-hell memory foam absorbed every movement, leaving Kit and me undisturbed. I cracked one eye open in time to get a fine view of Rebel’s ass as he crossed the massive room to get to the bathroom.
Concert photos covered the pale blue wall beside the French doors that led out onto the balcony, a trio of short bookcase shelves beneath them, filled with an assortment of books, CDs, and more photos in smaller frames.
I spotted a few Pop Dolls too and stuffed critters that were just as creepy as they were cute.
An overstuffed tan and blue chair sat in the corner by a window with flowing blue curtains a few shades darker than the walls.
It definitely had a beach vibe to it. An acoustic guitar sat in a stand on either side of it, and was that…
a seahorse statue with a pile of guitar picks filling its pouch?
I tried to sit up to get a better look when Kit grumbled at me about moving.
“Sorry, but as soon as Rebel comes out, I need to go in,” I said and finally felt his arm slip away.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Kit muttered, but when I looked back at him, he was sprawled on his stomach, long hair covering his face as he lay there.
No matter what he said, I doubted he was moving anytime soon. There was a path of clothes leading from the door to the bed, which is why it didn’t surprise me to hear the shower come on while I sat there waiting to take a piss.
Fuck it.
The bathroom was already beginning to fog up when I stepped inside, the shower’s frosted glass door prohibiting me from seeing more than just the shape of Rebel moving beneath the spray. I took care of business, washed my hands, and decided to further go with the flow by joining him in the shower.
I did not expect it to be the size it was when I opened the door. He turned to look at me, shampoo streaming down his face, and beckoned for me to join him.
“What did you do? Have this built for orgies?” I asked as I stepped in and closed the door behind me.
Water cascaded over my shoulders from one of three square overhead showerheads, rapidly soaking my hair.
“Naaa, I just like having space,” he replied as he passed me a sea sponge he pulled from a mesh bag on the top shelf of the shower caddy and went back to washing.
“Really,” I said, taking it and moving in front of him so I could reach the wall dispensers.
Shampoo. Conditioner. Body wash. Lube.
Not built for an orgy, my ass.
I squirted body wash on the sea sponge, but instead of washing myself with it, I pressed him against the wall and ran the soapy sea sponge over his back. Pinning his hands over his head was easy; he slid them in position for me and moaned when I locked my hand around his wrist.
I took my time cleaning and kissing his skin, nipping that spot on the back of his neck that always made him shiver, before tugging him away from the wall so I could wash his front.
Not that I let him turn around. It was far more fun to run my tongue over his shoulder while I ran the sea sponge over his chest. He reached back and hooked his hand over the back of my neck, arching against me as I rubbed circles over his abs, slowly making my way lower.
The door rattled behind me, and I turned to see Kit shaking his head at us. “I was going to ask if there was room for three, but you could park a car in here.”
“I asked if he’d built it for an orgy,” I said, having to raise my voice over the cascade of water.
“We’re about to find out,” Kit declared.
“We need two more people for an orgy,” Rebel said. “And I’m not sharing the two of you with anyone.”
“Possessive much?" Kit said, plucking the sea sponge from my hand.
While I was focused on what he was up to, Rebel turned in my arms, and suddenly I found myself sandwiched between them, and my, how the tables had turned.
Kit rubbed circles on the back of my neck while Rebel slid to his knees and peered up at me with water streaming down his face before he bent to wash my calves.
I ran my fingers over his water-slick hair and trailed them along the edge of his jaw as he washed higher.
Then his lips wrapped around my cock, and I got lost in the sensation of him sucking me while Kit covered my body in suds as he continued washing me.
His hand and that sea sponge inched up my thigh, brushing against my sack and the underside of my cock.
I lost it when they started working in tandem, Kit stroking me while Rebel sucked, then swallowed every last drop of my release.
Rebel looked like a water nymph as he knelt there, water streaming down his body as he resumed washing me.
Kit joined him, each one taking a leg, pausing every now and again to wash each other or just make out beneath the shower spray.
I was pretty sure we were all as clean as we were gonna get by the time the warm water ran out.
Yelping, Rebel lunged for the knob to turn it off while Kit and I fled in search of towels.
Fortunately, Rebel had left a pile of giant, fluffy ones on the edge of the counter.
“I might have to up the capacity of the water heater when it comes time to upgrade,” Rebel said as he wrapped one around his hair.
“And wind up with one astronomical water bill,” I said.
“Meh,” Rebel said. “It would be worth it to not be interrupted by a sudden blast of cold.”
“That was a tad brisk,” Kit said, shivering, until Rebel decided to warm him up by kneeling and shoving his head up Kit’s towel.
Gasping, Kit staggered back a half step, hands coming to rest on the counter behind him, while Rebel hummed.
Kit’s eyes rolled back, his hand trailing down, frustrated when he couldn’t grip Rebel’s hair through the towel.
I decided to keep with the whole go-with-the-flow vibe and reached into the shower, pumping lube in my hand before dropping down on the floor behind Rebel.
He’d been humming Thunderstruck, a song I’d heard him and Johnny cover several times without a single flaw, but when I circled his entrance, he completely lost the flow, the entire tone of his humming changing when I slid a finger inside of him.
It reverberated through Kit, who groaned, his hands gripping the counter tighter as his head tipped back.
Oh yeah. I had them both exactly where I wanted them.
I took my time prepping Rebel, drawing out every slow thrust of fingers, nipping his ass just enough to sting so he’d gasp and hiss around Kit’s cock, changing the sensations up until he was gasping and gripping the towel and, no doubt, Rebel’s hair beneath it.
By the time I got the condom on and slid my cock home, both of them were so keyed up that Rebel’s low groan sent Kit over the edge, and I watched his face twist up in ecstasy while Rebel swallowed his release.
Keeping my thrusts slow and shallow, I waited until he pulled off Kit’s cock and withdrew his head from the towel to thrust in all the way, catching a fistful of Rebel’s hair when he threw his head back, and giving him the pounding we both needed.
My finger’s gripped his hip as I fucked into him, Rebel rocking back against me, chasing my cock, begging for deeper, harder, until I cupped his balls and squeezed, just enough to make him lose control.
He came with a long series of drawn-out groans, low and guttural, before I finally let go of his hair, gripped his hips, and fucked him until I filled the condom. By then, he was shaking, head down, trembling beneath me as I rested my head against his lower back while I caught my breath.
“Now we all need showers again,” Kit moaned, eyeing the stall doors and the cold water he knew was awaiting us with sad-eyed trepidation.
“A bigger hot water heater is looking better every moment,” Rebel said, voice still ragged and wrecked.
Groaning, I carefully pulled out of him, disposed of the condom, and unsteadily climbed to my feet to turn it on, knowing that this trip through it was going to be much shorter than the previous one.
“The quicker we get it over with, the sooner we can have breakfast,” I pointed out when Kit’s stomach let out a particularly loud rumble.
“Gonna be hard to eat with my teeth chattering,” Kit complained as he helped Rebel up and held him while Rebel snuggled into his embrace.
“Just have to warm you back up again,” Rebel muttered.
“Which is why we have to step back into that cold-ass torture chamber now,” Kit said, groaning dramatically.
Deciding to once again take the situation in hand, if only because my stomach was growling now too, I tugged Rebel away from Kit, snagging Kit’s towel in the process, which he reluctantly let go of before dashing under the spray.
It was hard to suppress my laughter, watching him try to wash while avoiding the showerheads, while Rebel reluctantly dragged his feet over to the door, stuck his hand in, grimaced, and tried to back the fuck out of there.
He’d have managed it too, if I hadn’t been right behind him to give him a little shove to make sure he got wet.
“Fuck me!” Rebel howled.
“Already did, and with this icy fuckin’ water, you might have to wait a few hours before it happens again,” I told him as the freezing spray cascaded over me.
There was a great deal of yipping, yelping, and hasty scrubbing before they stampeded past me for the door, one of them pinching my ass at just the right time that I dropped my sea sponge and had to bend beneath the unrelenting cold to retrieve it.
“You’ll pay for that,” I called out, giggles coming from the other side of the shower door as they closed it behind them.
“You’ll have to catch me first!”
Should have known it was Rebel.
“Bet!”