Double Time
Sinners on Tour - 5
Olivia Cunning
Dedicated to the memory of
Randy Rhodes,
the first rock star I ever mourned.
He disembarked from
the crazy train much too soon,
but his legacy will always survive
in his haunting guitar work.
Dude, you rock.
Chapter 1
“Trey.” The sound of Brian’s deep voice tugged at Trey’s heart. His soul. His will. Brian comprised Trey’s hopes. His dreams. Embodied his love. His desire. Represented his past. His present. His future. Everything Trey had ever been or ever could be, he associated with the man. Trey knew Brian would never love him. Not with the same all-encompassing, soul-wrenching possessiveness with which Trey loved him, but they maintained a close friendship. It wasn’t nearly enough for Trey, but was better than nothing.
“Trey?” Brian whispered against his ear, his bare chest pressed against Trey’s naked back. “I want you.”
The flood of lust that coursed through Trey’s body was punctuated with an inrush of breath. Yes… “Now?”
“Shh,” Brian breathed. “Quiet. Or someone will hear us.”
Trey was naked. Had he gone to bed naked? He didn’t remember. It didn’t matter. In the darkness, Brian pressed him facedown on the mattress of his bunk on Sinners’ tour bus. Trey felt Brian’s weight over his back. His warmth seeped into his skin. The scent of leather, Brian’s sweet aftershave, and male surrounded him. Trey closed his eyes and relished the sensations. The texture of Brian’s skin. The raspy quality of his breath.
Emotion washed over Trey. His only regret was that they weren’t face to face, so he couldn’t stare into Brian’s intense brown eyes, bury his hands in his messy, shoulder-length hair, and kiss his firm lips as he took him. Whenever Brian visited him, it was always like this. Face down. Total surrender.
Trey felt Brian’s cock against his throbbing ass. He relaxed, opening himself to possession. Brian surged forward, filling him with one deep thrust.
“Ah,” Trey gasped brokenly as a mix of pain and pleasure pulsed through the core of his body. He loved that Brian’s cock was huge. That it stretched him to his limits. Loved how Brian clasped his hands on either side of his head to pin him down. It made Trey feel helpless. Fucked. Used. Exactly how he needed to feel, because he knew this wasn’t right. Brian loved another.
Trey lifted his hips slightly in an attempt to get his own attentive cock into a more pleasurable position.
“Don’t move,” Brian growled. “Take it.”
Trey took it. No pain now. Just intense, pulsating pleasure. Brian fucked him harder. Harder. Until Trey wanted to scream I love you, I love you, I love you at the top of his lungs. He didn’t dare. He knew Brian would disappear the moment he said anything that remotely stupid.
Trey bit his lip and struggled to lift his hips off the bed. He wanted Brian’s hands on his cock as he fucked him. Stroking him from base to tip. Giving him pleasure. Making him come. Come by his hand. In his hands. The hands that created the guitar music that was as much a part of Trey as it was of Brian.
“Brian?” he whispered. “Please.”
“No.”
Trey groaned and rocked his hips, rubbing his cock against the mattress. He needed to come so bad. Oh, please. I need it. Need you.
“Hold still, Trey. You know how this works.”
Trey stopped moving. Brian had been visiting him like this more and more frequently. Especially since Brian had gotten his wife, Myrna, pregnant. It was pretty much a nightly occurrence at this point. Trey wanted him. Not just in bed. In his life. Each moment, he felt Brian slipping further away and Trey didn’t know how to hold on to him.
Brian. Stay with me. Please.
“Trey?” A hand grabbed Trey’s shoulder and gave him a hard shake. “Trey! Wake up. It’s time.”
Trey opened his eyes. The Brian of his dreams vanished and was replaced by the real Brian. This one was not fucking him good, hard, and selfishly up the ass. This one was fully clothed and grinning at him from just outside the curtain of Trey’s bunk. Trey’s balls tightened unexpectedly and he reached down to pull off his sock. He buried his cock in the soft, warm cotton. His belly clenched. Muscles at the base of his cock gave a hard spasm. He came with a tortured gasp.
Goddammit. He ruined more socks that way.
“Sorry to interrupt your wet dreams, dude,” Brian said, “but we’ve got to catch a plane. Like immediately. Get dressed.”
Still disoriented, still trembling with the aftereffects of his unexpected orgasm (while Brian watched—he’d undoubtedly relive that in his fantasies for weeks), Trey forced himself to sit up on his bunk. Feet dangling over the edge, he bent his back at an uncomfortable angle so he didn’t whack his head on the tour bus’ ceiling. “What time is it?” Trey rubbed his eyes and blinked in the overly bright cabin lights.
“Three.”
“In the morning? What the hell, Brian? I need sleep.”
“Myrna’s in labor.”
Trey’s heart twisted unpleasantly. “She’s not due for…”
“Two weeks. I know. It’s the real deal though. She’s already at the hospital.” Brian grabbed Trey’s arm and jerked him out of his bunk to the floor. “Hurry up. I will not miss the birth of my first child.”
“I don’t understand why I have to go,” Trey said.
Brian looked a little hurt and Trey immediately wanted to take that comment back.
“You have to go because I need you there,” Brian said.
“Fine. I’ll go. Whatever,” Trey said as if his heart wasn’t singing with delight. Brian needed him? There was a first time for everything, he supposed.
Trey rearranged his boxer shorts and located his jeans on the floor next to their new soundboard operator’s empty bunk. Rebekah’s bunk didn’t get much use. She and the band’s drummer, Eric Sticks, spent most nights in the back bedroom claiming they were still on their honeymoon. Seven months of honeymooning was a bit much by anyone’s standards. Even Trey’s. Trey hopped into his pants, tugged a T-shirt over his head, and began his search for a spare sock.
Brian chuckled at him when he tossed his ruined sock in the garbage. “That must’ve been some dream. What was it about?”
Trey raked a hand through his long bangs. “These three really hot chicks,” he lied without missing a beat. “I had three cocks and each of them was sucking one.”
Brian quirked an eyebrow at him and Trey’s heart skipped a beat. The man was so fucking gorgeous, it was a sin. “Weird.”
But not as weird as having homoerotic dreams about your best friend. Your married best friend who was about to become a father.
“Did you get plane tickets already?” Trey asked.
“Your brother’s jet is meeting us at the airstrip. It’s already on its way. Should be landing by the time we get there.”
“So Dare’s coming with?”
“Nope. Just you and me.”
Alone on a private jet. Trey was pretty sure they wouldn’t be initiating each other into the mile high club. Bummer.
By the time they reached the hospital four hours later, Brian was in a panic. When Trey hesitated on the threshold of Myrna’s delivery and recovery room, Brian grabbed his arm and hauled him inside.
“I didn’t miss it, did I?” Brian asked the doctor who was between Myrna’s legs with his bloody surgical gloves trying to ease a black-haired head out of something Trey wished he had never ever seen. Oh fuck. That had to hurt.
Trey’s eyelids fluttered, the floor disappeared from beneath him, and everything went black.