Locked Heart (Cash Me Outside 1)

Still, I hadn’t decided if I was going to try to talk to him afterward or not. Or if I’d even be allowed.

I was fully waiting for security to tell me I’m shit out of luck, but apparently, they’d been told of my possible arrival by Cashton’s manager.

I huff.

Manager.

Cashton has come so far, and until the moment I saw him, until we came face-to-face, I didn’t know how I’d respond to being in his presence again.

Apparently my first response was to wrap myself around him and call him a term of endearment I have no right in using anymore.

“I’ve missed you,” I rumble in his ear. It’s clear I have no control over my mouth at all.

He smells different. He feels different. More man and less … boy.

Even though he was eighteen the last time I saw him and not much different to now.

He’s just … different. But I love it instead of despising it like I was worried I would.

He’s lived a long ten years, and I want to know every story, every adventure, but he’s frozen against me, and now it’s becoming abundantly clear that this is probably crossing a whole heap of lines.

I pull back but can’t help keeping my arms around him. “Cashton?”

His brown eyes blink up at me. His hair has gotten even longer than the last time I saw him, bringing back the eighties rock band look, and his tempting mouth I’ve missed so much is only inches away. Nope, closer than that.

Closer.

His tongue darts out, wetting his lip.

“Cashton …” I say again.

“Fuck it, we can catch up later.” He closes the small gap between us, pressing his mouth to mine.

Pressing, attaching, attacking … Same thing, right?

Damn, I remember everything about the way this man kisses. I remember his demanding tongue that liked to dominate my mouth, right up until I fought back and took control of it. Of everything.

Of his tongue, his mouth, his body …

The moan he lets out is deep and guttural, and worry about crossing lines is no longer at the forefront of my mind.

I’m still taller than him, but he used to be more muscular than me. Neither of us look like muscly gym rats, but I’ve at least filled out enough to match him in that area now. It makes me feel bigger than him, probably bigger than I actually am, but fitting myself against him, I surround him and hold him to me as if he was always mine to possess.

Cashton trembles in my arms the way he used to. The way he would when he wanted something but was too shy to ask for it.

“I want you to fuck me,” he demands.

Guess that shy thing is something he got over, then.

As much as I should pull away and slow this down, there’s no way that’s possible.

“Turn around.” My throat is scratchy and dry, putting an extra growl in my voice.

Like any time I’d told Cashton to do something in bed, he complies immediately.

Nostalgia settles over me.

I plaster my front to his back and push him toward the side of the bus. Only when I get him into position—his hands on the windows with his ass sticking out—do I ease up on him.

His narrow hips feel amazing in my hands, and that round butt of his looks amazing framed in those tight pants.

“I’ve fucking missed this ass.” I press forward, rubbing against him with my already hard and aching cock.

Cashton moans. “I’ve missed your dick.”

I find that hard to believe when I’m sure he’s had a buffet of cocks since the one and only time I fucked him, but now’s not the time to get into that.

I’m going to take his words at face value—that he’s missed my cock now it’s pressed against him.

I run my hand down the middle of his back, and he shudders under my touch. “You gonna take me like you did ten years ago? Want me to fuck you until you can’t shake your ass onstage like I saw today? You think this ass belongs to your fans?”

“Well, it hasn’t belonged to you in ten years.”

I try not to wince. Instead, I take on that commanding, dominant role I know he loved even back then. I want to show him that even though so long has passed, I’m not all that different. I still want him crumbling for me and coming apart from my touch, my mouth, my body.

My fist tangles in his long hair, and he yelps in pain, but I don’t let up. “I have news for you. It has always belonged to me.”

“Then where the fuck you been?” he spits out.

That’s a loaded question.

Just like he lied about missing my cock, I slap his ass and do the same. “Been dreaming about this.” I spank him again, and he moans. “You gonna let me in there?”