by BA Tortuga
“I don’t.” Jeremy looked up at him, took a deep breath. “We can skip this part, yeah?”
“No, baby.” Stroking the bare skin at Jeremy’s ankles, he shook his head. “We need to do it, okay? It won’t take long, and then we’ll be done for today.”
“Okay. Okay.” He could see the sweat popping up on Jeremy’s neck. “I’m all about being done.”
When he thought back to how nasty he’d been with Jeremy when they first started training, he kinda felt bad. Jeremy had a lot more reason to give up. Not that he was gonna. “Okay, you lie back and breathe. I need to bend your knee and then push back toward your chest.”
“You’re sure you don’t just want a blow job instead, man?” Shithead.
“You bet I do. After breakfast.” Easy as he could, Hollis pressed that leg back, feeling how tight it was, feeling Jeremy tense up. “Breathe, baby.”
Jeremy nodded, head tossing a little. “Hollis. Fuck.”
“Shh. Just a few more seconds, okay?” He knew he wasn’t pressing too hard, knew it didn’t hurt-hurt, because Jeremy would tell him that. But it had to be uncomfortable as fuck. “One more.”
“I hate this. I hate that it….” Jeremy groaned and went still, panting a little. “I feel that.”
“Sorry, baby.” Letting the leg relax back to the floor, Hollis stroked Jeremy’s belly, easing the man down.
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s okay.” He thought maybe it was, because Jeremy looked more alive, more awake and focused right then than in the last week.
The other leg went just as slow, just as painful, but then they were done. All done. Hollis let Jeremy rest a minute before pulling him up, hugging him hard. Jeremy shook for him, face in his throat, breath slowing down from the stressed-out little gasps.
“There. See? Now we can have that out of the way for the rest of the day. Have some coffee.” Brave little fuck. Hollis pressed kisses to Jeremy’s cheek.
Jeremy nodded, chuckled a little. “How long are you going to stay cooped up in this shitty apartment with me, beautiful?”
“As long as I can. Then we’re taking our show back on the road.” Or he could get a condo, take Jeremy there.
“Our show, huh? Are… are you sure about that? I mean, what if I can’t keep up?”
“You will. You’re stronger than you think.” Jeremy would have to be.
Hollis just wasn’t gonna let him fail. No, sir. Not one bit.
Chapter Twenty-Six
FUCK THIS.
He managed to make it up to the door without falling, leaving the goddamn groceries in the parking lot. Hollis could deal with them or not. He didn’t fucking care. Jeremy knew that it wouldn’t last, that Hollis was going to be recognized and swooned over. He knew that.
It was one thing to be invisible.
It was another thing to be the half-crippled former trainer of the beautiful rock star that got pushed into a rack of day-old croissants when the teenyboppers swarmed.
Hollis had been driving, so Jeremy just backed off, paid for the food, got himself a cab, and promptly overextended trying to get out, the groceries taking a dive.
He was done.
Done.
He slammed the door so hard the stupid little key holder dealie Mom sent over crashed to the floor.
Goddammit.
Jeremy took aim and kicked that evil motherfucking key thing across the room.
Hard.
He’d just gotten out of the way when the door slammed open again, Hollis trundling in with the groceries, growling at him. “Goddammit, baby, you could help.”
“Fuck that.” He tromped over to the sofa and plopped down, grabbing the remote. Asshole. Beautiful asshole. Stupid fucking bus.
Man, Hollis could move fast. The groceries hit the floor, Hollis took two long steps, and the remote control shattered against the wall. “Just fucking quit it, will you? Stop with the woe-is-fucking-me!”
He popped up like a jack-in-the-motherfucking-box. “Don’t you fucking beller at me! I’m fucking allowed to be pissed off! You ended up with what? A sexy-as-fuck scar, a sold-out Bowl concert, and Chris rubbing your ass at the end of it! I got dry-fucked, stuck in Houston, and I walk like a sixty-year-old bull rider with jock itch!”
Hollis could loom too. “You think I’m happy that you got hurt, baby? You think I want you to be sore and miserable and fucking stuck here? I’ve asked you twice to let me find us a condo!”
“No. No, I don’t think you are.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the muscles there tense as hell. “What good’s a condo gonna do, Hollis? Hell, if I’m not up to your management company’s standards by February, they’re gonna call and ask me who I should replace myself with.”
No one was going to let him just hang; no piece of ass was worth that.
“Then you need to work harder instead of sitting on the couch and eating pizza! The doc said you would have a full recovery, baby. You just aren’t listening.” Those big hands fell on his shoulders, fingers digging into his muscles.
“I am listening.” It wasn’t happening, not like it needed to. He knew what it was supposed to feel like—exercising, moving, living—and this wasn’t it. Hell, they couldn’t even really fuck yet; everything was easy and careful and shit.
“It takes time. And you don’t have to be 100 percent to go back to work. Shit, how often did you just sit on my ass while I did push-ups?” Shaking him a little, Hollis stared right into his eyes, just pleading.
“As often as you needed me to.” He groaned, trying to decide whether to scream or just bash his head against the wall. “I just want things to be right again.”
“Well, it ain’t gonna happen overnight.” Grinning a little now, drawling in full-on redneck mode, Hollis patted his cheek. “Bear with me, baby.”
“Yeah.” Until somebody pointed out that a stud like Hollis Lee didn’t need to be trained by a washed-up has-been. And how, exactly, did he get to be washed up so quick?
Frowning, Hollis shook him again, almost rattling his teeth. “Stop it. Just stop it. I don’t want to see those give-up eyes.”
“Jesus! You are a pushy motherfucker!”
“I know it. Always have been, even before I had your example.” The man was just in his space. Right there, hot and wide and crowding him.
He pushed right back—half-pissed, half-turned-on. “What the hell do you want?”
“I want you to push yourself as hard as you do me! I want to fuck you, baby, want to be inside you without being scared as fuck I’ll hurt you!”
“Oh.” He caught himself nodding, agreeing. Fuck, yes. “I need that.”
Those hawk’s eyes went hot, dark. “I want you to be able to ride me. Want to stroke you while you do. We need to work for that.”
Jeremy couldn’t have stopped the moan if he tried. “I miss sex, man. A good hard fuck. You.”
Hollis pulled him closer, bent so Hollis’s breath brushed his lips. “Want, baby.”
Yeah. Yeah. He nodded, staring into those amazing goddamn eyes like he was drowning and they were his lifeline. “Please.”
“Come on. Come on, I know how we can…. We need your bed.” All but picking him up, Hollis hustled him into the bedroom, stripped off his sweats, and flung them across the room.
He got his T-shirt off, started working off Hollis’s shirt, tugging and pulling at the material.
“That’s it, Jeremy. That’s it.” The shirt ripped a little under their joined hands, but Hollis didn’t bitch, just undid that big belt buckle and wiggled out of the jeans.
“You smell so fucking good.” He ached for it, balls to bones, mouth watering as he got to see more skin. Shit, he’d almost forgotten how good it felt, to need so bad.
“Uh-huh. You taste good. Coffee and cinnamon.” Hollis kissed him hard, deep, settling them on their sides with a gentleness completely at odds with the fierce pressure of their mouths.
He was flying, focused on that kiss, on what it meant. On how Hollis still wanted him. Still.
>
Hard, hot, already wet at the tip, Hollis’s cock pressed against his thigh. One big hand settled just under his ass, holding him still so Hollis could hook one leg over his.
It was more than he could do, to not reach down and rub that swollen, wet slit, bring that salt to his lips so he could suck it clean.
“Oh. Jeremy. Jesus.” Hollis pushed against him, skin hot as fire, just grunting for him. Loving on him.
“Uh-huh. Need you.” He got their mouths together again, both of them moaning into it.
“How do you want me, baby? We can try it like this, or we can roll you over so we’re back to front….” Hollis was smiling against his mouth, but he didn’t think the man was laughing at him. More like Hollis was happy….
“I’m easy. I just need it, man. I need you.” He rolled closer, whimpering as his prick rubbed along Hollis’s skin.
Nodding, Hollis shifted again, leaning back, getting that tight, round ass right up against him. It was kinda awkward but all hot, and the tip of his cock was rubbing right where it wanted to go.
“And… and you said you couldn’t do yoga, beautiful.” He pushed forward, begging for it. Now.
“Yeah, well, you inspire me.” Hollis laughed, moving, pushing down. “Come on, baby.”
“Uhn.” He managed it, eyes closed, heart slamming in his chest as Hollis gave him what he needed.
He slid in just like going home, like there was nowhere else he was supposed to be. The fit was tight, hot, a little scratchy without the lube, but Hollis never even peeped.
“Hollis….” There wasn’t anything wrong with his arms, and he pulled Hollis closer, hips finding a rhythm that worked for them.
His legs just had to lie there. It was like a miracle of physics. Or something. Hollis could touch him too, those hands all over his chest and belly, pinching his nipples, pulling at the little hairs that had grown in on his belly.
He chuckled. Yeah, yeah. He’d rewax later. Like, March. “Feels good.”
He did, better than good. He felt fucking real.
“You know it, baby. Feels like it should. Goddamn.” Hollis moved for him, moving Jeremy so he could take him all the way in, then lifting him up. In. Out. Fuck.
“Uh-huh.” He got one hand around Hollis’s cock, working that thick shaft good and hard, thumb jacking the tip.
“Oh. Oh, yeah.” Pushing, pulling, Hollis got them really rocking. But it didn’t hurt. Stretched, yeah. He knew his bad spots were there, but they weren’t telling him he couldn’t do this.
“Oh, shit. Love you, Hollis. Fuck….” He groaned, the words slipping out of his damn fool mouth.
Those pretty eyes went wide, and Hollis went crazy against him, rocking and humping, hands holding him so tight. “Jeremy. I… fuck. Gonna.”
“Yeah. Yeah, beautiful. C’mon!” He hollered with it, the sound echoing off the walls.
Hollis drew everything out of him even as the man gave it up, wet heat splattering his belly and chest. That sweet, tight ass clamped down on him, muscles holding him in place as he shot. They slumped together, both blinking and staring at each other. His grin snuck up on him, laughter bubbling up from deep inside.
Oh. Fuck, yes.
Hollis laughed with him, kissing his mouth, sloppy as all get-out. “Love you, baby. You’d best know that now. I’m not giving you up.”
Oh. Oh, damn. “That’s real good to know, Hollis.”
Pulling back, Hollis looked him right in the eye. “Now you know why I’m pushing. Got it?”
“Yeah. Now you know why I always did.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“AREN’T YOU packed yet, baby?” What did it take to pack a suitcase full of sweats? Wad. Stuff. Done.
Hollis paced, hands in his jeans pockets, prowling just outside the bedroom door. Jeremy was snarly, off-kilter with their sudden plan change, and Hollis figured it was best to push from a distance.
“I’m trying to find jeans that fit.”
Yeah, he’d bet any jeans Jeremy had were two sizes too big still. Course that was better than three.
“We’ll get you a belt.” They’d get the man a whole new wardrobe if Hollis had anything to say about it. “Come on.”
“Shit, you’re pushy.” Jeremy came out, wearing a huge UT sweatshirt and a pair of loose jeans. “I’m tired of sweats.”
Grabbing Jeremy right off his feet, Hollis squeezed the man breathless. “Now that’s what I’ve been waiting to hear. You’re gonna love this trip, baby.”
“My mom’s still pissed.” Jeremy gave him a wicked little grin and grabbed a gimme cap. “You’re sure they celebrate Christmas on the beach?”
“Oh, I’m sure. We may have more piña coladas than eggnog, but it’ll be Christmas.” He couldn’t wait. Plus, there was that whole, no one knows me in BF nowhere islands too.
And the whole Jeremy’s skin under the sun and swimming and palm trees and…. Yeah. Merry fucking Christmas for them.
“Well, I’m ready, I guess. Piña coladas ho!”
Sliding his arm around those skinny ribs, Hollis pulled Jeremy in for a hard kiss, knowing it would be a bit before he could steal another. “Yeah. I’m a big old ho for coconut rum.”
“Yeah. I’m a fan.” Those eyes dragged along his body, admiring him. “So long as you stay away from the Jack, you’ll be fine.”
“Uh-huh. I can have a shot once in a while.” He popped Jeremy’s butt. “Just like you get the occasional pizza.”
“Watch it!” Jeremy’s eyes were just laughing at him, that bad mood left behind. It was getting better, every movement easier now that Jeremy had a goal. They were working three times a day now on the stretching, and Jeremy had started on weight-bearing exercise, doing these weird half squats, working with a cable machine part-time. Hollis did love to watch Jeremy sweat. Hell, he was still jonesing on the way Jeremy was fighting now, pushing back. He’d been fucking scared that he’d lost.
Now he figured it was gonna be okay. The only thing Jeremy was still wobbly about was that whole going-out-in-public thing.
They’d get it, though. He knew they would. Assuming of course that Jeremy didn’t take one look at a tour bus and go all post-traumatic stress disorder on his happy ass. Then he’d have to beat the man.
The car whisked them right to the airport. Hollis didn’t have his own private plane, but his brand-new best buddy from the country crossover duet album did. That? Was a sweet ride.
Jeremy gave him this wide-eyed look, a grin. “Dude. That is fucking cool. If you could fit a weight set on it, it would be as handy as a bus.”
“They say you can get built-in cable thingies.” This trip was more about mimosas and naps, though.
“Yeah?” The stairs were enough to make Jeremy growl, but they got in, got settled, and the frown eased up again.
Hollis sat close, his hand on Jeremy’s thigh, just sharing warmth, helping those sore muscles out. “Uh-huh. Hell, I’m surprised old Johnny doesn’t have them.”
“Yeah. You like him, huh? Given the way you were dreading the Nashville thing, that’s cool.”
“He’s okay. Hell, they were all more like home than rock and roll has been lately.” Wasn’t there a song about going country? Oh, songs. He needed to scribble down the one that had been teasing him ever since Jeremy had said he missed blue jeans.
Jeremy grinned at him, watched him dig for a pen. “Did you remember to pack your guitar?”
“Yes. But it went with the luggage. Even with the private hangar, I didn’t want to draw too much attention.” And where would he put it in this little cabin anyway?
“Yep. Mr. Super Studly Rock Star Galore.” Jeremy ducked his swat, laughing at him. Asshole.
“Fuck you, baby.” Hoo yeah, he could so do that. Only not yet. “Now, sit still a minute and let me finish this chorus.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Jeremy settled, legs shifting restlessly until he found a comfy spot for them.
“You need your pillow?” he asked absently, scribbling out
a word and changing it to something else.
“’M good.” Hollis grinned as Jeremy propped one leg up, got the other hanging down, and the little fuck promptly fell asleep.
Asshole. Hollis hummed, wishing to hell he had his guitar, writing out words until he had them perfect. Well, perfect until he looked at them in two weeks and changed half of them.
Then he set his pad and pen aside and lifted the arm between their little club chairs. They could snuggle on the way to their beach paradise.
The rest could wait until they got there. Then they’d have a bed.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
HE WAS still trying to get used to walking on the sand. The first day had been almost impossible. The second day a little better. Now it was night two, and he actually felt like he was getting it.
Jeremy grinned, headed for a lounge chair and Hollis with a couple beers. Hollis looked good, dozing in the sun, hat pulled down and shirt pulled off. Fuzzy but ripped. Hot. Relaxed like Jeremy had never seen.
He let the condensation from the bottle run down, drip right down on that beautiful belly.
“Shit! What the fuck?” The hat tilted up, Hollis glaring, then grinning. “Oh, hey, baby. Have a good walk?”
Hollis was so damned proud of him, every time he even went to the damned bar.
“Yeah. I’m getting it.” He handed the beer over and eased down on the chaise, his shorts riding up a little.
“Not near as pasty either.” Oh, asshole. Would Hollis let him get a spray tan before they left? No. The man had no right to call him pasty.
“Fuck you.” He chuckled and stretched out a little, letting the sun bake him.
“Anytime, baby.” That growl Hollis put into his voice never failed to give him goose bumps.
He looked over, swallowing his groan. Man, Hollis kept that shit up and he was going to have to turn over.
He got a wicked stare. “You thinking what I’m thinking, Jeremy? I mean, any time.”
“You are evil.” He flipped over, cock cradled by the chair.