She followed instructions perfectly, her plush lips sliding all the way down until I hit the back of her throat.
“Fuuuck,” I grunted, pushing my hips up and forcing myself deeper.
This was heaven. Saliva pooled on my balls as she moved over my length, keeping me deep with impressive effort. I stroked my hands through her hair in encouragement, looping the soft curls around my fingers as pressure built in my lower back. This was perfect. A strong hand cupped my balls, tugging perfectly as one large index finger stroked along my perineum. Fuck, yes. This is what I wanted.
I dropped my head to watch, unable to resist any longer, and had to smile at the adoration shining from those perfectly blue eyes. It was that look, combined with the finger that pushed deep into my ass, that sent me spiraling. Sparks lit behind my eyes as I came in hard spurts. Every drop was swallowed like fine wine, and I blinked stupidly as my rapidly softening cock slipped from between puffy pink lips.
“Otis.” His name was both prayer and acknowledgement as my best friend slipped his finger from my ass and swiped a wrist over his damp lips.
“Harvey.” Calix’s voice broke into the moment, and Otis disappeared in a puff of smoke.
I lurched up in my seat and found my lead singer scowling down at me.
“If your wet dream is finished, get the fuck in the shower, it’s time for sound check.” Without waiting for a response, he stomped down the front stairs, leaving me alone, confused, and uncomfortably damp in the shorts. It had, in fact, been a very wet dream.
But it didn’t mean anything.
Because I wasn’t gay.
Chapter
Nineteen
Tatum
I was worried about Otis.
While the tour rolled on in a cycle of hotel rooms, arenas, and overnight hauls on the bus, he had taken to drinking heavily any time he didn’t have his bass in his hand. I’d tried several times to speak to him, everything from asking where his head was to what he’d like to eat for dinner, and had been met with cold eyes and monosyllabic responses. The sweet man I’d come to know seemed to have drowned in whiskey and bitter secrets. I missed him.
I’d come to think of him as an ally. Someone who knew where I had come from and wasn’t looking for a way to weaponize it.
But now I was alone.
As the guys finished their final set in Jackson and bounded off the stage, I tried to summon a smile for Toby but couldn’t quite ignore Otis retrieving his flask from behind the stage curtain.
“Why do you look so sad, Angel?” Toby asked, his eyes glassy from the line of cocaine he’d taken before their final number.
Wrapped in his arms as I was, I could feel the fine tremor in his muscles from the stimulants coursing through his system and couldn’t help but feel like I was failing them all. While my plan to manage Harvey’s sex addiction seemed to be somewhat effective, I now had two members abusing substances. I hadn’t slept well in over a week, waking from nightmares of overdoses and accidents until I started wishing I could set up an IV line to push caffeine into my veins. I guess that would make me another addict. More’s the pity.
Calix clapped a hand to the back of Toby’s neck and steered him toward the green room, saving me the effort of putting to words what felt painfully obvious.
I’d be lucky to get everyone through this tour alive.
As Harvey and Otis followed the twins, I took a moment to breathe deep and find my professional mask. All I wanted to do was shower and curl up in bed with a book so I could escape my reality for a few hours. What stood in the way of that dream were fifteen VIPs who wanted more than the boys were willing, or able, to give.
With a quick full body shake, I pasted on a smile and followed my band to get them fan ready.
“Are you enjoying the new arrangement, Tater-tots?” Calix asked idly after the last of the VIPs filed out the door.
Otis had disappeared midway through the meet and greet, and Tobias and Harvey left the second the hour commitment had ended. It was weird being alone with the surly lead singer. Weirder when I couldn’t quite read the vibe he was putting off.
“It’s made my job at these things easier,” I said, waving a hand that I hoped would encompass the VIP experience.
“Uh huh. And having exclusive access to De Beaux’s dick must be a real treat.”
I busied myself straightening chairs and picking up dropped trash around the room. I didn’t have to answer to him. As much as he wanted to be in control of everything, this was none of his business.
A warmth at my back was all the warning I had before his voice was right in my ear. “No snappy answer for me? Where’s your bite today, King?”
