Chapter 18
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Another show that blew the previous ones away.
Ray didn’t comprehend how they’d done it, only that they had.
Top of their game. Every note perfect. The songs, the crowd, the way Dom stalked across the stage.
Mish’s stellar solo that had both men and women tossing their underwear on the stage.
Hell, he wanted to whip his out, too, if only because of her playing.
Zavier wasn’t wearing his fucking sexy-ass leather pants, but he’d lined one wrist and arm with leather bands and a stylish cuff. The pants he wore were flowing and slit from the cuff up the sides, high enough you could almost see his package.
Almost. A shame Ray couldn’t—though he’d tasted that dick on his tongue. Felt it inside him.
God, his ass hurt, and maybe that was why he’d danced so hard. The moment he stopped, it stung like fuck, but if he moved, the burn was good.
He’d never thought he’d like being ordered around, or spanked, or any of that. But with Zav, it seemed so...natural. Right.
The signing line was kind of hell with a burning ass and a dick that wanted nothing more than to be fondled and stroked by the drummer next to him.
Zavier’s attention was currently on the young woman before him.
“Classical is a superb way to learn rhythms beyond the standard 4/4 or the outrageous 6/8.” He winked at the girl and signed her poster.
“Seriously, though, don’t give up on orchestra.
Use what you know for rock.” She nodded and moved on.
Fuck, Zavier really was too much. Part of Ray figured he was in way over his head, but the other part kept repeating what Zavier had said—that Ray was a fine musician. Dom said it, and Mish, too. Carl said the opposite.
Ray shook himself and smiled up at the next fan. “Hey, how ya doing?”
The young dark-skinned man stammered, “Fine.” Then continued with “Oh my god, that was the best concert I’ve ever been to.” Which got mashed into “This is my boyfriend and I just came out to my parents and they were okay with it and I’ll stop now.” The kid blinked. “Thank you.”
Indeed, he was holding hands with another kid, who blushed and waved. “Hi.”
“Hey, you guys. Congrats! That’s all wonderful.” They had Twisted Wishes T-shirts, and he scrawled his signature on them. “You two keep being yourselves, no matter what the world tells you, okay?”
They beamed and moved away so the next person could talk to him.
Yeah, he needed to listen to Zav. And himself.
The signings took forever, but they weren’t leaving until the last person came through the line.
After that, they piled back on the bus and collapsed as they took off for yet another city.
Phoenix this time. They’d get another break when they got to Utah and a longer one in California.
Ray couldn’t fucking wait. Yeah, the concerts were phenomenal, but they did wear on the body and mind after a while.
How did Gregor Daye do it in his fifties?
Ray was twenty-six and could barely manage.
He glanced over at Zavier, who was back in jeans and a T-shirt, but those leather bracelets and cuff were still on his arm. Ray stared at Zavier’s wrist. What it would be like to have cuffs of a very different sort on his wrists?
Zavier raised an eyebrow and smiled, as if he knew.
But the bus was moving, and Mish and Dom were here, so it wasn’t like anything was going to happen. Didn’t keep his mind and dick from wanting Zavier’s hands and mouth on him. That cock in his ass.
They chatted for a while, going over the best bits of the concert. Mish had loved opening with “White Hot Midnight,” while Dom had loved the acoustical set.
“What about you?” Dom lounged on the couch and looked about ready to fall asleep.
“It’s hard to choose just one,” Ray said. And it was true. His mind flitted between the fans and the music and the fucking colors in his head. All of it sang in his blood, but the cries of the fans and their smiles and wide eyes in the signing lines stood out most of all.
“That seems unfair,” Zavier murmured. He was stretched out like always, feet against Ray. “You made everyone else pick.”
“Not you.” He met those very blue eyes. “What was your favorite moment?”
Zavier took a deep breath and held Ray enwrapped with his stare. “When you dashed out into the crowd and sang ‘Bleeding Roses’ with the woman who had tears in her eyes.”
Heat to Ray’s cheeks. Her name had been Charlie, and she’d thanked him in such a husky voice when they’d finished. Her favorite song. He’d no idea why it had moved her so, but it didn’t matter. “The fans are always my favorite moments.”
The smile that danced over Zavier’s lips was heat and light and wrapped itself into Ray’s soul.
Eventually, they all crawled into their bunks, murmuring their good-nights.
Ray considered jerking off, but somehow he got the feeling that would disappoint Zavier, especially after the band’s conversation.
Besides, there was something sensual and edgy about the tension in his body and mind. Good tension for a change, not anxiety.
He should have pulled out his notebook, because little snippets of the song he was starting to think of as “Dare to Be” flitted in his mind.
More words. Burgundy hues and blue like Zavier’s eyes all slipped and floated behind his eyelids until they twisted and slipped away into nothing at all.
Later, awareness crept back in, along with his bladder screaming at him.
Fuck. All that water during the show. The bus was quiet but for the rumble of the road and Dom’s quiet snores. Hopefully Ray wouldn’t wake anyone.
He slipped out of his bunk and headed to the back of the bus.
When he was finished and he’d washed his hands, he stared at his reflection in the mirror.
This part of touring wasn’t exactly what he’d dreamed of when he’d imagined being a rock star.
Hell, he wasn’t even sure he was a star.
Everything seemed elusive, but that might have been the hour and the haze of sleep that still clung to him.
He shut off the light and headed out into the lounge.
The privacy curtain was drawn across the entry to the rest of the bus and a small reading light had been turned on over the couch, illuminating Zavier’s black hair, his naked chest, and his gray sweatpants. Ray let out a breath, and every part of his body rejoiced.
Like before, he crossed the space between them and knelt down, clasping his hands behind his back. Zavier didn’t utter a word, just slid a hand into Ray’s hair and tightened his grip.
The sweet, sharp tugging against his scalp sent lust straight to his balls. He’d always loved his hair pulled and Zav seemed to have homed right in on that.
Zavier still didn’t speak, but his smile melted Ray’s bones. With his free hand, he pulled out the hard dick tenting his sweatpants and stroked. In the reading light, precome beaded in the slit. His abs quivered and his sweats slid down when he shifted.
Even though instinct screamed to bend forward and take that taste, Ray didn’t. He relished the tight hold on his head, and gave into that. Whatever happened, Zav would make it good. Maybe painful, definitely pleasurable, and hopefully Ray would feel every bit in the morning.
Zavier’s grunt was one of satisfaction. He pulled Ray toward his dick and whispered, “Just the tip.”
Ray closed his mouth around the head of the cock he so desperately wanted and licked every bit of salt he could from the slit. He sucked and mouthed what he’d been given, throwing his entire being into pleasing Zavier.
The grip in his hair loosened. “You’re fucking unreal, Ray.” Satisfaction and pleasure in his voice. “You’re making it very hard for me not to fuck your throat.”
God, he wanted to give Zavier that. Worship him fully from his knees. Taste Zav’s come in his mouth. He moaned.
“I know you’d like that.” Zavier tugged him off. “You love being on your knees for me, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Ray met that hot stare. “So much.” Reminded him of the days when he was first putting Twisted Wishes together.
Money was tight, and he’d found several very enjoyable ways to earn some cash.
No shame in trading his body for payment.
Hell, in a way he still did that with the singing.
With Zav, giving a blowjob was better. More intense.
Personal. Pleasing him? God, that was a fucking high.
Zavier pulled at his hair. “Stand up and strip.” He let go.
The bus might have swayed, or maybe that was his heart and brain, but Ray did as told, kicking his own pants away and waited for the next order.
Zavier stood and shucked his sweats, and pulled Ray to him until they were chest to chest with a warm hand firmly around the back of Ray’s neck. Their cocks brushed, and Ray couldn’t help thrusting just a little.
The way Zavier’s smile sharpened only made him moan.
A click of his tongue. “You were doing so well, too.” He pressed a finger to Ray’s lips and whispered, “Not a sound. You don’t want to wake the others.” Those clever fingers drifted down to tease Ray’s nipple. The other had stayed clamped around his neck.
He had a pretty good idea what would happen, but it still took all of his energy not to cry out when Zavier pinched and pulled and rolled the nub mercilessly. God, the pain and the ecstasy. He melted against Zavier, who pressed his thigh between Ray’s legs.
Hot words in Ray’s ears. “Fuck yourself on me.”
He did, gripping Zavier and rutting against him, abandoning all sense of propriety, control, decency. All the while, Zavier abused his nipple and ghosted kisses over his shoulder.
“Should I mark you, Ray? Let the press know I’m fucking you?”
Oh god, yes. Yes. The desire to answer clashed with the order not to speak. He chanced it anyway. “If that’s what you want, Zav. I—yeah.”