Guarding January (14 page)

“Good catch.”

“I’ll always catch you.” Rye picked him up, carried him back to the bed, and put him in the middle of it. “Let me just get the stuff we’ll need.”

Jeff wrapped his hair in a towel, squeezing out the last bits of water.

Rye leaned over his bag, ass displayed for him. A tiny, needy sound escaped him. He couldn’t help it. Not at all. Rye stood, turning toward him, hard cock pointing right at him. “You okay?”

“Uh-huh.” He reached down, stroked his cock a bit.

“Just look at you. So sexy, Jeff.”

It was funny, because sex was what he sold—sex and violence—but he felt like the most desired man on earth, right here, like this.

Setting the stuff on the bedside table, Rye climbed onto the bed, pushing into a kiss right away. Jeff met Rye halfway, the rush of active desire surprising him, this delicious rush.

Rye’s tongue pushed into his mouth, Rye lying prone and pulling him down onto the big body. Jeff spread over the finest mattress ever and kissed Rye back, hands sliding over Rye’s chest. Rye touched him too, big hands warming him and leaving tingles on his skin. Rye’s touch was another addiction. Nothing made things so right, so simple. One of Rye’s legs bent, cradling him in between Rye’s hips.

“Oh.” Jeff found a perfect spot, cuddling right in.

“You fit like we were made to be together.” Which was surprising because Rye was so big and he wasn’t at all, but it was true.

“Maybe we were. Like destiny.” Except Jeff didn’t believe in that.

Rye chuckled. “I don’t know if I believe in destiny, but I believe in you.”

“Me either. Too. Whatever.”

Rye grabbed his ass, rocking them together. “Yeah. Whatever.”

Jeff leaned down, kissing Rye’s chin, collarbone, all along Rye’s throat.

“Have you ever done this?” Rye’s voice was thick with desire.

“I did it to people, but I never let anyone in.”

“I’m glad you’re letting me in.” Rye’s hand dropped along his spine.

“I am. Only you.” He wasn’t sharing this with anyone else.

Rye lifted his head and pushed their lips together, a heat to this kiss. Jeff cradled Rye’s head with his hands, helping to support. He could feel Rye’s cock pressing hard against his belly. He leaned down toward it, sliding their cocks together.

Groaning, Rye slid his fingers along Jeff’s crack toward his hole. It was easy not to tense, not to worry. Rye loved him. Those fingers disappeared, coming back a moment later, slick and wet.

“Do you want me to sit up?”

“Not yet. I can start you like this.” The tip of one finger pushed into his hole, proving Rye’s words.

Jeff’s focus shifted to Rye’s chest, the tiny nipples. He licked and nuzzled, sucked gently. They hardened beneath his tongue, two little points that begged wordlessly for more. Jeff closed his eyes, focused on the steady suction, the way Rye moaned and twisted.

The finger inside him pressed deeper, then came almost all the way out again, Rye’s movements matching the rhythm of his suction. It was as if they were wrapped in a magic blanket, where their touches bled into each other. Which was poetic as hell, but that didn’t make it true.

Moaning, Rye rolled them, then put two fingers into Jeff, pressing them deeper now that they’d changed position. Jeff felt that stretch in the pit of his belly, vibrating like a ringing bell.

“God, you’re tight.”

“You have giant fingers.”

Rye laughed, sounded pleasantly startled. Jeff grinned, bit Rye’s chin, then hooked one leg over Rye’s hip, spreading himself a little more.

Happy sounds turned into moans, and Rye pushed his fingers even deeper, finding a spot inside Jeff that made everything light up. He grunted, his fingers scrabbling on Rye’s chest.

“Good?” asked Rye, touching that spot again.

“Uh. Uh-huh. Good.”

Rye’s eyes smiled down at him, fingers still playing inside him. That touch came again.

And again.

And then again.

Whoa.

Pleasure rushed through him at each touch to that spot, making him shake. “Mmm. So good. Love how you look.”

“How do I look?” Rye asked, fingers gently brushing over the same spot.

“H-happy.”

“Oh… I am.”

“Me too.” And that was that, wasn’t it? He was too.

Rye beamed at him, and the two big fingers inside him became three, stretching him very wide. Jeff sucked in a deep breath and let it out, trying to make space inside him.

“Nice and slow,” murmured Rye, fingers opening and closing inside him but not pushing in and out.

“Big. You’re big inside me.”

“Gotta make room for my cock.”

“Yes. Then we’ll make love.” He didn’t think Rye fucked.

“Yeah, we will.” Rye kissed him softly, tongue slipping into his mouth.

Jeff wrapped around Rye and held on tight. The fingers inside him stretched and contracted, pushed deep, then pulled shallow. He started moving, matching the rhythm.

Rye watched his face, looked down at his body, letting loose with small sounds of approval. He moaned, totally caught in the pleasure inside him. It was almost a shock when Rye’s fingers slid out of him.

“Rye—” He twisted, searching for that sensation.

“I don’t want to wait too long, or it’ll be all over before it even begins.”

“I want you.” His heart was pounding, thrumming in his chest.

“Me too.” Rye shifted, moving to kneel between his legs. “I want to watch your face while we do this, okay?”

“Uh-huh. I want. Now.”

Rye breathed out softly. “I didn’t expect you to be so demanding. I like it.”

Jeff chuckled and grabbed Rye’s prick, rubbed it.

Rye’s eyes closed, a deep moan coming from him. “The, uh, condom is next to you somewhere.”

Jeff reached out, searching for it. Rye’s hand took his, guided it to the condom. Oh. There. Excellent. His fingers trembled, but they worked the damned thing open. Rye nuzzled his neck as he dealt with the wrapper, not making it any easier at all.

“Be good. I can’t do this.”

“I could help?” Rye didn’t stop sliding warm lips along his throat.

“Uh….” What?

“Tear open the package? Get it on? What do you need?”

“Yes. Please. You make me stupid, Rye!”

“You’re not stupid, baby.” Rye took the condom and used his teeth to open the side of it. Jeff leaned up and kissed the center of Rye’s chest.

Humming, Rye pulled the condom out of its package and worked it onto his cock. Obviously Rye was better at this than he was. Obviously. Of course Rye had probably done it more than he had. Or at least not been high.

“Ready?” Rye asked, putting Jeff’s legs over his broad shoulders.

He nodded, shook his head, nodded again.

Leaning in, bending Jeff’s legs so his knees were up at his ears, Rye kissed him. All Jeff’s thoughts shattered, dissolved in his head.

As they kissed, Rye began to push into him, cock huge but moving slowly. Jeff’s body stretched, spread, opened wide.

“Oh fuck. Jeff. So tight.” Moaning, Rye leaned their foreheads together, pushing in and in.

Tight? He was so full, he couldn’t breathe.

When Rye had pushed all the way in, he rested there, taking deep breaths. Jeff could feel his body clenching and relaxing, over and over.

“Fuck. Jeff.” Rye groaned, gaze meeting his. “Ready?”

“Ready. Ready. I want to feel.”

“Okay.” Rye kissed him, then began to withdraw, pushing back in right away.

Oh.

Oh, that burned, deep inside. Holding his gaze, Rye continued moving. Jeff’s hole clung to Rye’s shaft, squeezing it. Moaning, Rye kept moving, cock sliding nearly all the way out despite his best efforts. It always returned, pushing into him again.

Jeff moaned, stretching, spreading. His movements made Rye gasp and thrust faster. He stretched, arching his back, rolling his hips.

“Oh God.” Rye followed his lead, moving faster, pushing in harder.

They got it going, the rhythm hard and driving, musical. It felt good, just the fact that it was Rye making it special. Jeff hummed as they slapped together, his head spinning. Rye’s hand wrapped around his cock, fingers dragging over it, catching slightly on his piercings.

Oh.

Oh fuck. Jeff’s eyes crossed, and he arched into the touch. Flicking his frenum piercing with his thumb, Rye sent him soaring. His toes curled hard, spine bowing.

“Come on,” murmured Rye. “Want to feel you.”

“Do it again.”

Rye did, then yet again, the little bit of metal shifting in his flesh. The burn made Jeff clench his teeth, hips rocking. Rye’s mouth covered his again, and it was less a kiss and more Rye breathing into him. He gulped in air, his entire body clenching. Moaning, Rye pushed in harder.

“Rye….” Please.

“Gonna come soon, baby.”

Rye shifted, and the big cock hit that spot inside him. Hard.

“Soon…. Fuck—”

Rye nodded, kept moving on his gland. His body was singing. Singing. And it was all for Rye.

“I need you to come,” Rye told him.

“Me too. Me too, Rye.”

That made Rye grin and tighten his hand around Jeff’s cock. One thumb flicked the ring in the tip of his cock, and Jeff moaned as he shot. Yes.

“Oh fuck.” Rye kissed him again, body jerking into him a few times before freezing.

Jeff was shuddering, shivering, flying. Rye’s kisses made him dizzy. His body felt too sensitive, too raw.

Pulling out, Rye got rid of the condom and settled next to him, tugging the covers over them. Jeff cuddled in, then moved to rest atop Rye’s broad chest. It made Rye smile, big hands sliding along his back.

Jeff cuddled closer. “Good, huh?”

“Understatement of the year.”

Jeff started giggling madly.

Chuckling, Rye held him tight. “I love that sound.”

And Jeff loved Rye.

“Are you having a good vacation, baby?”

“I am. It’s been magical.”

“Yeah. That’s a good word for it. Of course, you’ve been kind of magic from the start.”

Jeff knew better. He was a stoner with a psycho alter ego.

Rye nuzzled his neck, cuddling and snuggling with him. Soon they would be heading back, and there would be no breaks, no real rest. Not for weeks. Still, he’d had this.

This was going to be enough.

R
YE
PULLED
Jeff through the backstage area toward the back door, walking fast, refusing to stop for anyone.

A fucking razor. Someone had made it onstage with a fucking razor. He was going to kill someone.

He got Jeff into the SUV waiting for them. “Drive,” he snarled at the driver.

“I didn’t do my encore.” Jeff was trembling, dripping with sweat.

“I don’t fucking care.” Rye put his arm around Jeff, pulling him close. “I’m not giving anyone else a chance at you. And we’re cancelling tomorrow night’s show.”

“What? We can’t do that! Everyone will be pissed. Everyone. We can’t.”

“If the venue can’t keep the psychos out, they don’t get you.”

Jeff was panting, breathing hard, focused somewhere else.

“Are you okay? Did they cut you?”

“I don’t think so. There’s so much blood anyway.”

“We’ll take a shower as soon as we get to the bus.” They’d stopped staying at the hotels, choosing to be a little out of the way and private.

Rye was so fucking pissed off he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to take Jeff home and tell the whole fucking world to get fucked. He was mad at the venue for fucking letting people with razors fucking inside. He was pissed at the security staff—men he’d hand-fucking-picked himself—for letting the psycho onstage. He was pissed at himself for letting Jeff continue on with the fucking tour when he knew it was eating Jeff up.

He wanted to scream, rage against the world. He wanted to hit something. Hard. If there was one single scratch on Jeff. One.

A bruise.

A nick.

Anything.

They got to the bus, and Rye scanned the area, then went in with Jeff, locking the door behind them. “Shower.”

“Let me get my costume off.”

Rye helped, tugging at the blood-soaked mess, tossing it toward the front of the bus to get the smell away from them. It was insane, the layers of flimsy clothes, the leather corsets, the boots.

He finally had Jeff naked, then stripped down himself and pushed them both into the little bus shower. The water beat down against them, pounding hard, washing the fake blood away.

Grabbing the shampoo, he worked it through Jeff’s hair. His fingers tangled in Jeff’s hair, tugging some.

“Careful!”

He closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. “Sorry.”

“I’m okay. You did your job.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I need to check that for myself.”

“Uh-huh. I do. Forgive you. I mean, whatever.” Jeff rolled his eyes, the black makeup making him look like a raccoon. “I mean, please. Yes.”

“Shit, your contacts.” Luckily they had more than one pair. He held his hand out for them.

“Man, you must be wigged out. You never forget them.”

“More furious than wigged out.” He tossed them out into the toilet once Jeff had taken them out. Then he carefully soaped up Jeff’s face, working on getting rid of the makeup.

Jeff seemed calmer—in fact, the more ramped up he got, the calmer Jeff seemed.

Rye got the makeup off Jeff, then turned off the shower. “I need to actually be able to see you to make sure you’re not hurt.”

Stepping out, he grabbed a towel and began carefully drying Jeff off. Jeff was still, watching him with red-rimmed eyes. Picking Jeff up, he carried him to the bed. Goddamned people trying to hurt his lover.

He started at Jeff’s face, checking the pale cheeks, behind Jeff’s ears. There was nothing, barring a few bruises from the harness Jeff “flew” with. He checked every inch too. Very thoroughly.

Finally, he was satisfied. “You’re okay.”

“I am. Tired, but okay. No cuts.”

“No. No cuts. Thank God.” He would have had to kill someone.

“Uh-huh.” Jeff leaned in.

Rye rested his forehead against Jeff’s, just breathing, the fear and anger finally backing off.