Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Tim
I PULL MY HOODIE tighter around me as I scan the gloomy parking lot. It’s not cold, even this late at night, but the lights pockmarking the hotel behind me feel like glowing eyes watching me flounder through the dark.
I have no idea what the hell I’m doing out here.
By the time I returned to the greenroom after the show, flushed and buzzing from the performance, I had a message on my phone from Keannen. My heart started racing the second I read his command, and I rushed back to my room to shower and slink back out before Cameron could ask any questions. Now the dark and quiet of the parking lot where he told me to meet him are reminding me exactly how insane it is to heed a vague text message from a bitter ex-boyfriend telling me to sneak out into an empty parking lot late at night.
Well, not entirely empty. The tour buses are back here, and I head for Baptism Emperor’s, just as Keannen instructed. He hasn’t talked to me since Austin. I didn’t even know he had my number. Yet his message hit almost as hard as the high of the performance. I know we were good tonight. We were damn good tonight. Maybe that’s what finally broke through to Keannen. Maybe—
I squeak in surprise as a hand grabs my shoulder. Before I can react, someone spins me around and slams my back against the side of the bus. Keannen looms over me, one hand seizing me by the jaw so he can crash his lips against mine.
I whimper under this abrupt assault. Back in Austin, he left me with less than a kiss, more like the suggestion of a kiss, but that hasn’t stopped me from waking up hard thanks to dreams about what could have been. Tonight, his mouth presses me against the bus, tongue jabbing into my mouth and hand so tight on my jaw it verges on painful.
When he breaks away, I gasp for breath. Without his mouth pinning me, I sag against the bus, knees threatening to buckle.
“Good boy,” he says, low and raspy.
His voice, the praise, the command lurking beneath his words — it all shoots right to my dick, and I squirm, trapped in his hold.
“You want something, straight boy?” Keannen asks .
“Yes,” I breathe.
He snorts. I’m transported back to our youth, back to all those moments under the bleachers. The dark and the bus at my back contribute to the illusion, but mostly it’s the sneaking around. It’s the quiet of the parking lot. It’s the fact that even Cameron has no idea where I am tonight.
“Come on,” Keannen says.
My jaw is cold when he lets go. I all but run to keep up with him as he stalks through the dark and opens the door of the bus.
The dark is even more complete inside the vehicle. Keannen leaves me standing at the top of the stairs blinking and disoriented, then locks the door behind us. I swallow hard.
He doesn’t lead me to a bed or a couch. Instead, Keannen slinks up behind me, like a shadow draped against my back. His breath heats my neck. His hands skate along my shoulders and down my arms. His hard cock presses at my ass when he tilts his hips toward me.
“Scared little rabbit came back for more, hm?” he says at my ear.
His teeth graze the lobe. His tongue flicks out like a snake’s. I shiver in his hold, not knowing quite what I need but needing it so, so bad nonetheless.
“Aren’t you afraid of being devoured?” he says.
“No.”
He scoffs. “So comfortable, so safe. You’ve never had to be afraid, not really.”
“That isn’t true.”
He doesn’t, can’t, know what it was like after I left our school in Baltimore, but none of that matters. All that matters tonight is his words puffing hot against my skin and his body pressed against mine.
It takes me a moment to realize something has stopped him. The ache inside me pulses.
“Please,” I gasp. “Don’t stop this time. Please.”
He huffs. Maybe it’s annoyance or anger or amusement. Regardless, his hands snake under my shirt, feeling their way up to my chest while his teeth pull at my earlobe. He reaches my nipples and tugs, and a mixture of pain and pleasure I never fathomed in my life barrels into me. I shout, that singular sensation overriding everything else in my brain for a bright, startling moment.
“I knew you’d be sensitive there,” he rasps into my ear.
He switches to palming my chest, squeezing my pecs hard. I groan, body rolling toward him to beg for more.
“You let me take you apart so easily,” he says.
“Yes,” I pant.
I knew that before I ever arrived here tonight, knew before he texted me. Whatever happened in the shower in Austin, it’s haunted me ever since. No amount of porn or fantasies or wet dreams has managed to sate it. Nothing has even come close until this moment.
I need more .
“Keannen, please,” I whine shamelessly. “Please touch me. God, I’m going to break if you don’t.”
“Break?” he says. “You’ll break? Oh, surely you’re stronger than that, Freckles. Let’s see.”
His hands skim downward, feeling their way along my body before rubbing over my hard cock. The grate of the fabric doesn’t stop me from bucking my hips toward that touch.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” he says. “But what if I want more than you can give? What if I want to fuck those nice thick thighs of yours until I come all over your body?”
“God, yes. Yes, Keannen.”
I didn’t even know you could fuck someone’s thighs, but suddenly it’s all I want in the world.
Keannen shoves me forward. I stumble, but he grabs me by the hips and bends me forward so my hands are braced against the back of a couch affixed to the wall. Without ceremony, Keannen reaches around me and undoes my pants, shoving them and the briefs under them down to my ankles.
Then he slaps me on the ass.
I yelp, more from surprise than pain. I don’t get much time to contend with the sensation, though. A second later, Keannen reaches between my legs and gives my cock several hard, swift pumps. His touch disappears again, and a cap pops open behind me. When Keannen touches me again, he spreads faintly cool lube all along my thighs. It squelches as he apparently strokes it onto himself as well.
“Remember that you asked me for this,” Keannen says.
I did, but standing here bent over the couch with my whole body at his mercy, I’d be lying if I claimed a sliver of fear hadn’t interrupted all the pent up desire. Keannen slides up behind me, kicking my legs closed, then fitting his dick between my thighs while gripping my hips.
I gasp in a breath. That’s a cock, a real one, and it’s big and thick and squeezing between my thighs. The heat of it reminds me that this is the first time in my life I’m touching one that’s not my own … and it’s happening in just about the weirdest way possible.
My bitter ex who is now my musical rival is fucking himself between my thighs.
And it feels incredible.
His cock grates against my skin, his fingers digging into my hips so he can hold me the way he wants me. My skin tingles where he slapped me, but in a pleasant way. Every time he slides himself between my thighs, his cock grazes my sac and sends a jolt of pleasure spiking through me.
I clench my thighs tighter on instinct, and Keannen groans. Not a performative, put on groan. Not a growl so he can order me around. A real, genuine groan of pleasure.
I’d do damn near anything to hear it again.
I keep clenching my thighs, holding him tight, and Keannen thrusts harder. The burn prickles my skin, but the lube softens the sharp edges off it, leaving behind only enticing friction. I’m not sure if that’s what’s doing it or it’s the blunt fact of his body against mine. After all the waiting, all the teasing, he’s finally, finally touching me, and that might be doing even more for me than his cock.
“Fuck, this ass is so good,” Keannen growls like he’s inside me and not merely burning up my thighs. Then he makes that fantasy a bit more real by thumbing over my hole.
I shout, the cry so loud it must be audible even out in the parking lot.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” Keannen says. “You like when I touch you there. Bet you’d like my cock there stretching out that virgin hole of yours.”
I’m panting too hard to respond, but even if I wasn’t, I’m not sure what I’d say. I always figured that sort of thing would be kind of uncomfortable, but when Keannen touches my rim, there’s no pain. There’s sparks and fire and clenching, gut-wrenching need.
He spits, using his fingers to rub the saliva over me. Then his finger is prodding at me, just the tip of one digit, but it’s enough to have me clinging to the couch in front of me and groaning anew. He teases my hole, swirling his fingertip around it, pressing enough that it feels like he might go inside but always leaving me wanting more. Meanwhile, his hips piston, cock sliding greedily between my clenched thighs.
I scrabble desperately for myself. Keannen doesn’t tell me to stop, so I pump, too needy for the shame to reach me as his teasing pushes me toward the edge. Keannen presses a finger into me at last, and a moan warbles out of my throat.
“That’s it, straight boy,” he says. “Squeeze me. Yeah. You want it so bad. You want to be under me so fucking bad, my big cock spreading you open.”
“Yes,” I cry, senseless, delirious. “Yes, fuck, yes.”
“Shit,” he hisses. “So needy. I’m going to ruin you if you keep begging me to.”
“Yes,” I whimper again.
I’m too far gone to care. He can ruin me if that’s what he needs. He’s already ruining me. His cock, his finger, his scratchy, brutal words. He’s stripping me bare before him, and I’m not resisting at all. I’m too busy stroking myself as he slides between my thighs and that finger presses so sweetly inside me.
Heat boils up in my throat. Masturbating has never been like this. Not even close. The heat reaches new heights, my body tensing around a pleasure bigger than any I’ve ever felt. I squeeze my eyes shut, jerking my cock hard and screaming at the quiet tour bus around me.
I explode over my hand without warning, shuddering and shaking and squeezing my legs together so tightly that Keannen curses an instant before warmth coats my skin. For a second we’re weightless, pulled taut by pleasure but empty of all else. Then we come crashing back down, sagging heavily to the floor in a heap of useless limbs .
I pant against the edge of the couch, head spinning. Was that my first time? I was still basically masturbating, but it was so much more than any solo session’s ever been. Keannen was touching me, using me. That’s gotta count as something, right?
It seems he isn’t going to help me find the answer. After a few moments, he grumbles about ruining the couch and “the guys are gonna kill me,” then gets up to stalk around the bus. I remain on the floor until he hands me a towel so I can clean the cum off my hand and thighs.
“You better get out of here,” he says.
He won’t look me in the eye anymore, and I can’t imagine what sin I could have committed between when we came and now.
“Okay,” I say.
I manage to pick myself up off the floor. I don’t know what this was, what lines we may or may not have crossed, what we healed or broke by doing this. But it seems I won’t find out tonight.