25. Road Session #2
Dex takes the guitar Austin offers him.
No joke.
No bullshit.
He plays through the progression once.
Stops.
Changes one chord.
Then another.
Austin drops into the chair beside him. “What if we go minor there?”
“No.” The answer is immediate.
Austin looks at him.
“It gets too bleak.”
“It's about homeless queer kids.”
“I know.” Dex's fingers move again. “That's why you can't fucking leave them there.”
The room goes quiet.
My chest tightens.
Dex keeps looking at the guitar. “The whole point is somebody should've shown up. Somebody should've told them getting thrown out isn't the end of their story. If the bridge collapses back into despair, you're making the song about what happened to them instead of what happens next.”
The screen of Megan's laptop lowers.
Micah's hand finds mine.
Dex plays the progression again.
This time the chord lifts.
It’s not happy or artificially hopeful.
It’s open.
Austin watches him. “Again.”
Dex plays it.
Austin joins in.
And for the next hour, I barely recognize my boyfriend.
Not because he's pretending to be someone else.
The opposite.
He's more himself.
The Dex I know is sparks flying in twelve directions at once.
This is what happens when every spark points the same way.
He becomes almost unnervingly focused.
Austin asks a question, and Dex doesn't answer immediately because he's still working the lyric under his breath.
They argue over one word for five full minutes.
Dex defends it.
Austin makes a better argument.
Dex changes it without ego.
Then Austin wants to change a different line.
Dex refuses. “It's cleaner my way.”
“It's safer your way.”
“Same thing.”
“No. Safe is boring.”
Dex looks at him. “That line isn't the place to prove you're edgy.”
Austin stares.
Megan covers her mouth—I think she's hiding a laugh.
Austin finally points at Dex. “I was the one who invited you here.”
“You did.”
“And now you're insulting my songwriting.”
“Constructively. And that’s why you brought me here.”
Austin throws up both hands. “Fine. Keep it.”
“Because I'm right?”
“Because you're fucking exhausting.”
“So yes.”
Austin laughs.
Even Dex's answering grin is different—smaller and satisfied.
Micah squeezes my hand.
I lean toward him. “He's really fucking good.”
Micah doesn't look away from Dex. “I know.”
There is so much pride in those two words that my chest aches.
I turn toward him. “You've seen this.”
“Rehearsals.”
“So not like this.”
“No.” His eyes finally meet mine. “But close.”
There's something almost smug there.
Like he's been waiting for me to catch up.
Asshole.
Across the room, Austin hands the guitar back. “All right. I like it.”
Dex goes still—like he’s in disbelief.
Austin either doesn't notice or is kind enough to pretend he doesn't. “We'll play it for everyone tomorrow. See if it survives twelve more egos.”
“Twelve?”
“Give or take.”
“Fuck me.”
“Welcome to collaboration.” Then Austin looks at him. “And Dex?”
“Yeah?”
“That was why I called you.”
Something naked flashes across Dex's face.
Relief.
Pride.
Maybe disbelief.
He covers it fast. “Cool.” Just that.
Then he looks toward us.
Micah first.
Then me.
And suddenly I want to climb him like a fucking jungle gym.
Megan leans toward me. “That’s a look.”
I turn. “What?”
She smiles. “Nothing.”
Oh, she can fuck all the way off.
I like her even more now.
Dex does not stop moving once we're back at the hotel.
He kicks off his shoes.
Paces to the window.
Checks his phone.
Walks to the wet bar.
Returns to the window.
Runs both hands through his hair.
Starts explaining the bridge again.
Stops halfway through.
“Did you hear him say he liked it?”
“Yes,” I tell him.
“I know I heard it. I need independent verification.”
“He liked it,” Micah says from the couch.
Dex nods. “Okay.”
Three seconds later, he starts pacing again.
I sit on the arm of the couch.
Micah watches me.
I watch Micah.
We have a conversation without speaking.
“I think,” I say slowly, “we can find something better to do with all this fucking energy.”
Dex stops.
His eyes darken.
“What did you have in mind, Dollface?”
I smile. “You're the creative one.”
That does it.
He crosses the room in about three strides, catches my waist, and kisses me hard enough that I laugh directly into his mouth.
“There she is,” he murmurs.
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
His hand slides down and grabs my ass.
I bite his bottom lip.
He groans.
Micah still hasn't moved.
I can feel him watching.
Dex’s mouth curves against mine.
“Sad Boy is staring at us.”
“I know.”
“You think he's jealous?”
Micah answers from behind me. “No.”
Dex laughs.
Then Micah says, “Bedroom.”
One word and Dex's entire body changes.
Just enough that I feel it where he's pressed against me.
I turn my head.
Micah is standing now.
Dark eyes moving between the two of us.
Fuck.
“See?” Dex whispers against my neck. “This is why I keep him.”
Micah walks past us. “Dex.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I burst out laughing.
Micah looks over his shoulder.
Even he smiles. “Both of you. Move.”
There is nothing scary about the order.
Which is exactly why it works.
We follow.
The king bed suddenly seems like planning ahead.
Dex makes it two steps into the bedroom before he grabs me again.
Micah shuts the door. “Clothes.”
Dex immediately reaches for my shirt.
I pull his up at the same time.
We get tangled.
I laugh.
He swears.
Micah catches Dex by the back of the neck. “Slow the fuck down.”
Dex stills.
My thighs clench.
Micah turns to me. “You too.”
“What did I do?”
“You're making it worse.”
“I am innocent.”
Dex snorts.
Micah looks between us. “I can go sit in the living room.”
“No.” Again, Dex and I answer together.
Micah's mouth twitches. “Then behave.”
“That seems unnecessarily restrictive,” Dex says.
Micah kisses him.
That shuts him up.
For a while.
And fuck, watching Micah kiss Dex never gets old.
Dex melts into it, hands going to Micah's waist before Micah catches one and puts it exactly where he wants it.
Quiet control.
No performance.
Just that subtle shift where Dex stops deciding what happens next.
Micah breaks the kiss and looks at me. “Come here.”
I do.
His fingers close lightly around my jaw.
The kiss is slower than Dex's.
Filthier somehow because he doesn't rush it.
By the time he lets me go, my brain is pleasantly fogged.
Dex is staring with huge pupils. “Well. Fuck.”
I grin.
Micah looks at me and points toward the bed. “On your back.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Dex makes a strangled sound. “Oh, that does things to me.”
“Everything does things to you,” I tell him.
“Especially you.”
I lie back.
Micah looks at Dex. “Get her ready.”
Dex grins. “With pleasure.”
“Don't get cute.”
“Too late.”
He crawls between my legs.
There is still laughter.
That's the best part.
Nothing formal.
No elaborate scene.
Just us, with Micah shaping the rhythm and Dex being Dex.
Dex kisses up my thigh and then my stomach.
He slides one hand between my legs.
I gasp.
He looks up. “Wet already?”
“Watching you work was hot.”
His smile goes crooked. “Oh, Dollface.”
Micah's voice comes from behind him. “Focus.”
Dex looks over his shoulder. “Yes, Sir.”
Then he looks back at me and mouths, hot.
I laugh.
Micah smacks his ass.
Dex jerks. “Oh, fuck.”
I laugh harder.
“You like that?” Micah asks.
Dex’s only response is, “Shut up.”
Micah does it again.
Dex's eyes close. “Okay. Fuck you both.”
“Eventually,” Micah says.
That does not help me.
Dex takes me apart with his fingers. And by the time his pierced cock pushes inside me, I'm already trembling.
Then he grinds against me. That piercing massages my clit with some kind of sinful perfection.
The noises that come out of me are not controlled.
He braces himself over me, eyes locked on mine.
“Fuck, Dex.” I wrap one leg around his hip. “Still have all that nervous energy?”
“So much fucking energy.”
Micah kneels behind him.
Dex knows exactly what's coming.
His face changes.
Micah runs one hand slowly down his spine.
I pull Dex down and kiss him while Micah prepares them both.
Dex is already breathing harder.
Then Micah presses into him.
Dex freezes as his mouth falls open against mine. “Ohhh, fuck.”
My entire body clenches around him.
His eyes fly open. “Fucking hell, Cami.”
I grin. “What?”
“Do that again, and I'm going to embarrass myself.”
Micah grips his hip. “Move.”
Dex obeys.
The first thrust into me lands at the same time Micah moves behind him.
My head falls back.
“Fuck.”
Dex makes a sound so wrecked I almost come from that alone.
Micah controls the pace.
Every time he drives forward, Dex gets pushed deeper into me, and after a few strokes there is no part of my brain capable of pretending this isn't obscenely hot.
Dex's forehead drops to my shoulder. “Fuck me.”
Micah's hand tightens on his hip. “I am.”
Dex laughs once.
It comes out halfway to a moan.
“Smartass,” he manages to rasp.
“You like it.”
“Yes, Sir.”
My pussy clenches again.
Dex gasps. “Fuck, Dollface.”
“Can't help it.”
“Bullshit.”
Micah's voice is low. “Cami.”
I look past Dex. “Yes?”
“You want him to fuck you harder?”
Fuck.
“Yes.”
“Dex?”
“So fucking green.”
Micah's expression changes.
Approval.
Then he grips Dex more firmly and increases the pace.
Dex swears—loudly.
I laugh until his next thrust knocks the sound out of me.
“That's better,” I gasp.
“You're both fucking evil,” Dex groans.
Micah leans closer to Dex's ear. “You want me to stop?”
“No.”
“Then quit bitching.”
Holy shit.
Dex actually shudders.
I stare at Micah. “That was hot.”
“I know.”
Dex lifts his head. “You two discussing my suffering like I'm not here is deeply disrespectful.”
“You're not suffering,” I tell him.
Micah thrusts.
Dex moans.
“Evidence supports my position,” I say and start laughing again.
Dex kisses me hard enough to shut me up.
It doesn't stay funny for long.
Not because anything changes emotionally.
Because eventually there is too much sensation for jokes.
Micah's hand stays firm around Dex's hip, controlling the motion.
Dex fucks me with every thrust Micah gives him.
I'm trapped underneath all of it in the best possible way.
“I'm close,” I gasp.
Dex's eyes are glassy. “Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Come on my cock.”
Well.
Fuck.