Chapter 16 #2
“Carl Roberts is a fucking liar. Just about every sentence that waste of space utters is false and designed to undermine you, cut you down, and make you second guess yourself.”
A shudder ran through Ray, like a chill, but so much deeper. Ice in his bones. “Why?” The question burst out of his soul.
Once more, Zavier’s thumbs eased the pain erupting in Ray.
A simple motion. Intimate. “I don’t know.
I can’t figure him out. But he lies, Ray.
He lies. Don’t trust anything he says.” Finally, Zavier slipped his hands from Ray’s face.
“When we stood on stage, after the encore, how did you think the concert went?”
“It was the best we’ve ever done.” His throat was so dry, but he didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break whatever spell had Zavier kneeling here with him. “Absolutely amazing.”
A slow nod from Zavier. “Yeah. I felt it, too. We clicked and everything went higher. And the fans...” He got a distant, haunted look, before focusing back on Ray. “I bet you anything the press will contradict Carl.”
“The label exec seemed happy, but Carl...”
“Lies.”
Maybe. Yeah. The knot Ray had been carrying in his stomach since his talk with Carl eased. If the press loved them and the fans loved them, then that would impress the label, too. “Do you think we can play a show like that again?”
“Yes.” That one word was absolute, and it slid over Ray like he wanted Zavier’s hand to.
He shivered. “I trust you.”
“Now you do.” Zavier’s tone had shifted to something deeper. Rich and dark. His smile matched, and a spark of lust flamed in Ray.
He swallowed. “What now?”
“Now?” Zavier cocked his head. “Now you undo the first button on my shirt.”
Ray’s pulse ticked up and his cheeks warmed. Even more when Zavier lifted an eyebrow. He leaned forward, too aware of the motion of the bus and the huff of Zavier’s breath. He did as he’d been told.
Before he could sit back, Zavier whispered, “And the next.”
When he’d undone the second button, lips grazed his neck. “Keep going.”
Oh god. Every part of Ray heated and his cock was hardening with Zavier’s every breath against his skin. He kept going until Zavier’s shirt was open in front.
“Push it off.”
He did, and the skin beneath his hands was hot and smooth. Fabric slipped off those shoulders, revealing all of Zavier’s ink. Every line, figure, color, and swirl. Ray wanted to mouth those shoulders, kiss the knotwork on Zavier’s pecs.
Zavier shrugged the shirt off his wrists. “Sit back on your heels.”
The pulse in Ray’s ears sounded louder when Zavier rose and towered over him. He was eye level with the impressive bulge in Zavier’s pants.
Fingers brushed Ray’s hair. “Yes, you can unbutton my jeans.” Amusement in that voice.
Ray really wanted to see what Zavier looked like naked. Where those tattoos led, what else was inked. His length and girth. The muscles of his thighs. How much hair he had. Everything. Ray undid the button and nearly went for the zipper—but stopped.
“Very good.” Zavier’s murmur felt like a kiss on Ray’s back, and every hair stood up in pleasure. “Now the zipper.”
He pulled the tab down, and waited. Zavier’s underwear was black and cotton, but whether briefs or some other style, he couldn’t tell. Nor did he find out, because Zavier pushed both down, freeing his dick and exposing the rest of his body.
Tattoos snaked down onto his hips and across his lower abs, and jutting from a thick bed of curls was Zavier’s cock. Not overly long, not overly thick. Like every other inch of Zavier’s body, it was too fucking perfect. “You’re unreal.”
A chuckle, and Zavier stroked himself. “I could say the same.” He slipped two fingers under Ray’s chin and lifted until Ray was staring up at him. “Have you bottomed, Ray? Sucked cock?”
He shivered, and not from the AC. Hell, this close to Zavier naked, close enough to take that dick into his mouth, Ray was blazing with heat. “Yes. Both. Though—it’s been a while since I’ve bottomed.”
“You prefer topping?” Curiosity there.
“No.”
Zavier’s smile deepened at that.
That made Ray’s pulse rocket up. “But...people expect rock stars to be a certain way.”
A chuckle from Zavier. “I don’t.”
“That’s because you’ve been a rock star all your life.”
His smile slipped away. He touched Ray’s cheek. “No, I haven’t. I was lucky and privileged, that’s all.”
“Yet here I am, on my knees for you.” For Zavier. He closed his eyes.
Fingers danced over his cheek. “We can stop. If you need to, we can stop.”
Emotions tripped over inside Ray. The need for Zavier. All those years of wanting the man. His brashness and now his tenderness. None of it made sense, and at the same time—it did.
“I don’t want to stop.” He didn’t know why there were tears in his voice or eyes. He wanted the world to make sense.
“Ray, look at me.”
He forced his eyes open, made himself look up, up that glorious body and into those blue eyes.
“Do you trust me?”
That question again. “Yes.”
Oh, the grin. Part sweet, part devil. “Then suck my cock.”
He didn’t even hesitate, because this, this was what he wanted. He wrapped his lips around the tip and tasted the salt and musk of him. Slid his tongue around that shaft and took as much as he could inside, sucking and licking and mouthing the thickness.
Fingers curled into his hair. “Oh fuck, that’s good.” Zavier rocked back slightly.
Yeah, it was. So damn good. Zavier’s heat, the way he filled Ray’s mouth.
The desire that sped down Ray’s body straight to his balls as he sucked and tasted him.
The burn of his scalp from his hair being held.
He slid his hands up Zavier’s thighs, wanting more, wanting to be claimed and fucked.
He tried to take more in—once he’d been able to deep-throat just about any guy—but Zavier pulled back. Ray moaned in frustration.
A click of Zavier’s tongue was all it took to spiral worry down the same path need had taken just moments before. “As much as I would love to face-fuck you until I come down your throat—you do actually need that for other things.”
Like singing tomorrow night. Damn Zavier for being...responsible. Still didn’t stop Ray from trying and being stymied over and over again. He grabbed Zavier’s ass—
—and was rewarded by Zavier stepping away. Fuck! He met Zavier’s gaze. There wasn’t anger there, nor disappointment. But Zavier wasn’t exactly pleased with him.
“Do you understand what submission is, Ray?”
He shivered. He was supposed to do what Zavier said. Except he was also kind of doing what he wanted. Fighting with Zavier for control, trying to make him—Oh. Oh shit. He’d been trying to make Zavier face-fuck him anyway.
“I expect an answer.”
“I—I do. But—I’m not really doing a good job, am I?”
“No, no, you’re not. You need to let go, Ray. Let me give you what you need.”
He chewed on his tongue. “So what happens when I don’t obey?”
The corner of Zavier’s mouth quirked up. “You’re about to find out.”
Ray couldn’t help the swallow of fear, or the blaze of heat that followed. What the hell? But he kind of did want to know what Zavier would do.
“Wait here.” With that, Zavier stepped around him, and out into the main part of the bus.
Ray went stone cold. Was Zavier leaving? Was he—what was he doing? Ray nearly twisted, nearly stood, but Zavier’s question—the one he kept asking—flitted through Ray’s mind. Do you trust me?
Everything in him melted. Yes. He did. He needed to start acting like it.
Zavier touched Ray’s hair, and those warm fingers trailed down to his neck and back. “I know this is hard for you.”
“It shouldn’t be.” The weird tears were back in his voice. “Should be easy.” Sex usually was. He’d turn off his brain and fuck and everything would be fine.
A soft laugh. “Ray, you’ve been fighting for years. For your music, for respect, for your bandmates. I’m not surprised you’re fighting me.”
He’d been fighting Zavier since his audition.
Zavier slipped past and took a seat on the couch again, dropping a few objects next to him. He was still hard, which shocked Ray.
Ray wasn’t anymore. The desire he’d had before had slipped away. “I don’t want to fight you, Zav.”
“I know.” He gestured for Ray to stand. “Come here and turn around.”
Took a little to get up, both from his legs being numb and the rocking of the bus, but he did as told.
He gasped when Zavier’s hands closed on his hips, when leather creaked and Zavier’s hot mouth pressed into the small of his back.
Fire flooded him, and his flagging cock revived.
Every nerve tingled when Zavier nipped his teeth and traced tongue and lips over Ray’s ass.
His legs wanted to give out from under him.
“Oh fuck, that’s—” He lost all words when Zavier bit him hard. Really fucking hard.
He let out a long moan. Fuck, that hurt, but also felt so damn good. He’d probably bruise.
“Like that?”
“Yeah,” he whispered. “It’s hot.”
“Mmm.” Zavier captured one of his wrists, then the other, and pulled them both behind Ray’s back. He kissed each pulse point. “I’m going to bind your hands together.”
Heat flashed everywhere and Ray wavered, his lungs light. Fear of being in someone else’s power, and delight for the same damn reason. Zavier’s gonna tie me up. How many times had he come in the dark, quiet hum of the bus fantasizing about that with Zavier sleeping below him? “Okay.”
Another kiss to Ray’s back. “I promise I’ll take care of you.” Zavier crossed one wrist over the other, and held them in a tight grip.
Movement, then Zavier was wrapping his wrists with something. Not rope, not fabric.
Ray couldn’t help the moan. He’d watched enough porn where men got tied up.
Wondered what it felt like. Sometimes even wrapped a wrist with whatever was handy to try to see, but nothing prepared him for the way he wanted to melt to his knees, nor the heat of being held by Zavier—or the sheer sense of security. Holy fuck, he didn’t understand that.