“Hmm. Well, I always love playing New Orleans. It’ll be good to be back.” Rhys had spent a lot of time in New Orleans, even lived there with Caleb for a little while. “Austin’s great. But I’m really looking forward to the drive through Montana to get to the Seattle show.”
He reached for my hand and tugged me closer.
“I think you’d love Montana, babe. It’s beautiful—wild and isolated. Kind of reminds me of you, actually.” He kissed my hand. “We should go for real sometime.”
I squeezed his hand and nodded.
* * *
—
When Rhys’s manager had first begun setting up this tour, Rhys had invited me along excitedly. He knew how much I wanted to travel.
“You can go explore during the day, come to shows at night if you want. When you get sick of my music, you can just hang at the hotel, or a bar. Whatever you want. But at least you’d get to see some places you’ve never been.”
The idea had sounded nice on the surface, and it made my heart feel full that he wanted me there. The reality was that I couldn’t ditch work for two months, and as much as he made it sound good, I knew from hearing him talk about touring that it was mostly sitting around in buses and hotel rooms and backstage.
More than that, though, much as I wanted to see the world, this wasn’t how I wanted to do it. This was Rhys’s show. He’d worked tirelessly in the background for years, and now he was the star, and he shouldn’t have to worry about me being bored in some hotel room or annoyed because people insisted on talking to me all the time. He should get to enjoy being the star.
I’d shaken my head and said I couldn’t miss work, and he’d nodded, like I knew he would.
“You’d probably hate it, actually,” he’d said, running a regretful hand through his hair. “I just . . . I don’t want the distance to come between us. I don’t want to not be with you.” Then his voice had gotten small and scared. “Maybe I shouldn’t go.”
It was the fear he’d always had rearing its head. That he couldn’t have a career in music and a committed partnership. And in that moment I decided that I would do anything to make sure that he could have both. To make sure that both of his dreams could come true. He deserved to have everything.
“Don’t say that,” I’d told him. “You’re going. You’re a brilliant musician, and people love the album. We’re gonna be fine.”
He’d cupped my face in his hands, his eyes searching mine. “Yeah? Are you sure?”
I’d nodded and kissed him, and he’d smiled that smile of joy that lit me up every time I saw it, and I’d made a vow to myself that I would make sure of it.
In bed that night, we went at each other like we were starving. Starving to touch and taste every inch. Starving to be inside one another’s skin. Rhys sucked my cock while he fingered me, holding me down until I was begging him to fuck me. Then he slapped my ass and flipped us so I was straddling his hips.
I ran my hands over his gorgeous torso. Laid out like this he looked even more like a superhero than usual, and I smiled, knowing that even though he’d flick my nose or snort if I said as much, he liked looking like a superhero just fine. Liked how powerful his body was. Loved how much I liked how powerful his body was.
“Get this gorgeous ass on my dick,” he growled. A flush stained his chest, and his eyes burned like neon fire.
I sank down on Rhys’s cock slowly. He was thick and long, and in this position it felt like I would never take all of him. But I did, and my heart pounded in my ears as our balls pressed together.
“Oh, fuck, fuck.” I reached out blindly, and Rhys grabbed my hands. He tilted his hips up, and we both groaned. I moved on him wildly, the friction building to something just out of reach. My erection slapped against my stomach, and my thigh muscles were about three seconds from giving out. “Rhys, God, please,” I panted.
“You need me to make you come?” he said, voice a silken promise. I nodded, my legs jelly and my arousal so huge I couldn’t think around it. Rhys crunched up, stomach muscles etching deep, to purr filth into my ear. I nodded desperately at every word. Then my legs gave out, and my whole weight rested on him. I was impaled on his cock, trembling. Rhys pulsed his hips upward, rocking into me even though I’d thought he couldn’t get any deeper.
I scrabbled at his chest, needing him so badly I couldn’t do anything.