by Anna Zabo
The rope holding Ray’s left ankle slackened, then let go. Zavier undid the other rope, too. “Oh god.” Ray pressed his forehead into the mattress. While his arms felt fine, his legs were another matter.
“I’ll help you up. You need a shower anyway.” Zavier paused. “We both do.”
They smelled of sweat and sex and each other, and Ray loved it. “Should check with Mish and Dom to see if they’ve eaten.”
Zavier grunted, and worked with Ray to get him turned over and sitting next to the rather large wet spot he’d created. “I’ll text. I suppose we’re doing room service?”
He so so so did not want to sit in the room next door and eat hotel food again. “No. I want to go out. Get dressed. Blow through the paparazzi and have a real meal in a real restaurant. Maybe even outdoors because this hotel air is shit.”
A strange look, part amusement, part pride, appeared on Zavier’s face. “You’re feeling better, then.”
He rolled his eyes. “Text them.”
“You giving me orders?” A grin. “While you still have cuffs and a collar on?”
“Remember that part where I said I don’t want us to be Dominant and submissive all the time, and you agreed?”
Zavier snorted—and texted. A moment later, his phone dinged.
“They say they haven’t eaten. They were waiting for us.” He eyed Ray. “I’ll tell them to meet us in the communal room in thirty minutes.”
Ray nodded. “And tell them we’re going out.”
A quirky smile from Zavier. “Where do you have in mind?”
He had no idea. “Fuck if I know this town. Somewhere good. With a patio that we can get seated on. I bet the concierge can make it happen.”
Damn, it was fun watching Zavier’s ever-shifting emotions. “Shall I call down, then?”
Shall? He laughed. “Would you mind, Zav? I guess I’m the one being imperious now.” He paused. “But you did just flog and fuck me into oblivion, so I kind of feel like I can rule the world.”
“In a collar and cuffs, no less.” Zavier texted the others, then picked up the hotel phone and talked to the concierge.
Ray closed his eyes and let the murmur of Zavier’s voice pull him back into that warm, safe place where he was strong and—at least to Zavier—perfect.
Hands on his shoulders, Zavier’s hot voice in his ears. “You’re still not down completely, are you?”
Ray shook his head. “Not entirely. But enough. Let’s get ready.”
They did, Zavier helping him into the bathroom and shower, but by the time they were done, Ray had found his strength. They put on nicer clothes. “Interview clothing,” Zavier muttered, and headed into the adjoining room. Dom and Mish were already there, looking equally as stylish and nice.
“We’re busting out of this joint?” Mish had a feral look. “Zavier’s idea?”
Ray shook his head. “Mine. I’m tired of hiding. We’ve done nothing wrong. The press is full of speculation, but generally on our side.”
Dom—or rather Domino, since the makeup and hair were back, as was the leather and boots and collar—rubbed his chin. “Would also let them see you and know you’re fine.”
Getting fucked by Zavier was the absolute best thing in the world. Second best, though, was watching Zavier realize Ray was a step ahead of him. His face did all sorts of interesting contortions on the way to surprise and elation. “You’re playing the game!”
“Damn straight. I tried playing it their way. I’m gonna play it mine.”
Zavier’s grin was like a fall of a flogger, all warmth and light. “Come on. The concierge got us reservations—yes, on a deck, Ray—and a car, and they should be here in about five minutes.”
They headed out, and it was fucking glorious, like something out of a movie. The security called down to warn the hotel and security staff, so there were people flanking them as they strode through the lobby. Flashes from cameras went off. Mish laughed. Zavier looked like a fucking god, and Domino walked in front, like he would run everyone over with his steel-toed boots.
Ray didn’t answer any of their shouted questions, just waved and smiled—until Zavier casually put his hand on the back of his neck. Then he laughed and locked gazes with Zav. His fiancé.
When they were all settled into the hired car—which was actually a freaking limo—he grinned at Dom and Mish. “Hey, Zavier asked me to marry him.”
Mish punched him in the arm, missing all of his welts, thank god. “You bastard! Good. About time you freaks worked it out.”
“Freaks?” Zavier was grinning. “Honestly, it’s for practical reasons.”
“Of course it is.” Dom leaned back and waved a hand. “Legal paperwork and all that. Not like you guys care about each other. At all.”
Zavier blushed. Honest-to-god blushed. Deeply. Enough that you could see it in the passing streetlights. “It’s not—That’s not—” He sighed. “I’m not a romantic. At all. But this...” He gestured between Ray and him. “It seems right.”
“My mom always said to marry your best friend.” Dom was grinning.
Zavier’s eyebrows shot up. “Ray’s your best friend.”
Dom made a sour face. “Ray’s like my brother. Ew. Did he tell you we kissed once?”
“Once.” Ray held up his hands. “And I did, yeah. He asked why we weren’t fucking.”
“Because you are entirely not what Dominic is looking for in a partner.” Zavier had a knowing look. “Dominic is looking for someone tall and tweedy who can whisper about hidden queer nuances in old literature while jacking him off.”
“Fucking hell, Zav!” Dom choked out.
“Yeah, but is he right?” ’Cause Ray had to know. And yeah, he so could see Dom liking that.
Dom muttered “fucking hell” a few more times before sighing. “Yeah. Pretty close. Bastard.”
“Lord, you boys.” Mish sighed dramatically.
Dom punched her in the arm for a change. “Oh, don’t you start. You don’t have a leg to stand on. And half the time my room’s right next to yours.”
She smiled like a Cheshire cat and sank into the leather behind her. “I am not saying anything.”
Ray laughed until he was in tears, then wiped them off before they stepped out of their limo. The air was cool and electrified with lights and people and the low thump of dancing somewhere. Zavier put his hand around the back of Ray’s neck again. His back and ass burned. His friends were here. His band. The man he loved. Ray couldn’t keep the happiness in his heart. Felt like everything was cracking open and blooming. Reaching for the sky.
They had nowhere to go but up.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ten Months Later
There were flowers in a cut-crystal vase on the kitchen island when Ray returned home from his errands. Dark red roses paired with tiny pale blue flowers of some kind. The vase sparkled in the lights of the kitchen. Seeing those colors together flipped his soul and made his limbs tingle.
“What do you see when you sing ‘Dare to Be’?” The question from all those months ago came back, along with the strength of Zavier’s arms and the whisper of his breath.
Ray set down his bag of groceries and stared at the flowers. Burgundy with dots of sky blue. “Dare to Be” flew through his head, this time with Zavier’s drumming—they’d just finished nailing down that part—and every bit of Ray burned. These flowers were for Ray, from Zavier. He both understood and didn’t understand the gesture.
Zavier didn’t buy flowers.
There was a small envelope leaning up against the crystal vase. No writing on it, but that wasn’t needed. Ray picked it up, opened it, and slid the thick piece of paper out.
Please put away the groceries and join me in my office.
—Zavier
Ray ran his thumb along the side of the card stock. An invitation.
To a scene? To something else? He didn’t know this time. At other times, it was more obvious whether they were orders Zavier left on his cards, or when they were simply little notes.
The flowers threw him, but Ray treated the note as the beginning of a scene, anyway. Hell, he wanted it to be the beginning of a scene. He put the groceries away, careful to place items in their proper places in the pantry. Zavier had insisted at least that part of the kitchen be orderly. Everything else—dishes, pots and pans, the fridge, drawers—those were kept at Ray levels of chaos.
The balance worked, and when Ray slacked off, Zavier got to remind him of their decision, usually bent over one of the kitchen stools with a wooden spoon that never seemed to be used for anything else.
Ray wasn’t above shifting things out of order when he wanted the punishment. But he wouldn’t do that tonight. He finished up, picked up the card, and headed to Zavier’s office.
The room was dressed in warm shades of yellow and brown and black, like an old study or smoking room. Bookshelves lined one wall. Along the other was Zavier’s desk, complete with one of those ink-blotters. Zavier sat in his brown leather chair, reading an actual hard-backed book, though there were also small piles of mail on his desk, along with a package that had been opened.
Ray hadn’t been quiet in his approach, so when he reached the door, Zavier met his gaze, slipped a bookmark into his book, and set it aside. “Everything put away in the kitchen?” Soft voice.
Could be play or just an inquiry. Ray nodded, turning over the card in his hands. “You bought me flowers.”
Color touched Zavier’s cheeks. “So I did. I thought you might like them.”
“I do.” Burgundy and blue. “They’re ‘Dare to Be.’”
Ray had seen him blush before, but not quite like this, not with so much uncertainty. “Yes.” Zavier took a breath. “Was that an okay thing to do?”
So maybe this wasn’t a scene after all. Ray crossed the threshold from the hall into Zavier’s domain, and sat himself down on his lap. “It was an incredibly thoughtful thing to do, Zav.” Ray kissed him on the cheek. “I very much appreciate them.”
Warm arms wrapped around Ray, and Zavier pulled him tighter, even as tension drained from Zavier’s expression. “Oh, good.”
Sweet man. Ray’s heart tumbled over and over, like it always did. “You don’t have to get me flowers. Or chocolate.” That had been last week. “I’m utterly content with you and our home. With us.”
They’d been living together since that night Zavier had returned to Ray. He’d been there through the legal wrangling with the record label, for the settlement and release from their contract, and for the satisfaction of Carl pleading guilty to criminal mischief. Ray’d wanted more, but as expected, plea bargaining had reduced the charge and the sentence. Zavier had consoled him in every manner he could and that had kept Ray so calm.
After a month back in New York City, they’d gotten married at the courthouse with only Mish and Dom present. As Zavier had said, a legal formality—much easier to tie their lives together that way than any other.
Zavier’s aromanticism was as much a part of him as his drumming or Ray’s singing or their kinky sex. Ray didn’t want to change any of it. They were husbands, yes. But also friends and partners. Bandmates. And sometimes Dominant and submissive, when they felt the need.
But always, always friends. He loved Zavier so much it hurt sometimes. He still wore Zavier’s bracelet on his ankle. Even under socks.
Zavier kissed Ray’s throat. “I know that. But it’s a little thing that makes you happy, so why not? I walked by this florist and saw the colors and thought of the other night. And maybe it made a little sense in my head to buy them.”
Ray tossed the card onto Zavier’s desk. “And here I thought you were gonna put me on my knees.”
A deep chuckle. “Oh, I intend to do that, and quite a bit more before dinner.”
Sparks everywhere, and that deep calm that Zavier could draw out of him in an instant. “I’d like that.” He slid a palm along Zavier’s chest and was rewarded by a nip at his chin and Zavier cupping his ass.
“You say that now,” Zavier murmured. He pulled back. “I have plans.”
“Do tell.”
Zavier patted Ray’s ass. “Get up a moment, and I’ll show you what came today.”
Ray slid off his lap, and Zavier turned to scoop up the little package. Anticipation tightened Ray’s muscles and nudged him from his calm place, but he forced himself to breathe—and let the lust and thrill slip through him.
When Zavier lifted the item out of the box, it took Ray a moment to comprehend exactly what the metal contraption was. A moment later, he was on his knees, his mind in a whirl, blood hot and cock hardening. “Oh shit.”
Zavier held a cock cage. Stainless steel, if Ray had to guess. It came with a small lock that looked a hell of a lot stronger than the ones used for luggage.
The glint in Zavier’s eyes and the turn of his smile were a perfect mix of devilish desire and heartwarming amusement. “Should I take your gesture of submission as approval?” He stroked Ray’s cheek, but his smile said he already knew the answer.
“Well—you’re not going to get me into it, currently.” He was too damn hard now. “But yes. I want to try.” A different kind of bondage, another way to surrender his will to Zavier. He wouldn’t be able to get hard caged like that. Might come, but he’d read that was pretty uncomfortable. Every vein danced with need. Yeah, he wanted the cage on him, much in the same way he wanted to be spanked or bound or anything that made him heady and forced the world away.
Fingers traced over Ray’s chin and neck. “I think you’ll love it. And hate it. And look glorious caged.”
“Probably.” He met Zavier’s heavy gaze. “Gonna fuck me in it?”
A hitch in Zavier’s breathing. Good. Yes. Nothing turned Ray on more than when he flustered Zavier. Mostly because he had a pretty good idea what would happen next.
“Get up, strip, and put your hands on my desk.”
Yes—that. Those orders, whispered in that deep, gritty voice. Ray did as told, his whole body warm as his placed his palms down in the green blotter.
The signs of their life together were before him. Bills. Statements. Musical notation scribbled down on a pad. His own picture on Zavier’s desk.
A kiss landed on his back, then the sound of Zavier stripping and fishing into a desk drawer, probably for lube. “I was thinking about spanking you, but I think I’ll wait on that.”
When Zavier trailed his fingers along his sides, Ray twisted, but didn’t break his stance. “Getting soft in your old age?” That earned Ray a sharp smack that was part pain and all glory. He bit back a laugh.
Zavier breathed across his back and smoothed his palm over Ray’s ass. “Oh, I’ll make you cry like you want before the night’s through. But right now? Let’s just say that since I intend to be very rough later, I want to be gentle now.”
He was, too. Lovingly so. Kisses along Ray’s spine as he entered. Zavier moved slowly inside him, pressing deep with each stroke until they were both rocking as one, gasping together, and working the rhythm toward the light they both sought.
Zavier stroked him, a slightly different tempo, but one that pulled waves of pleasure and drowned all Ray’s thoughts. “God, Zav...” Every time, it was like having lightning in his skin. Everything burned and built and threatened to spill.
A laugh. “You always feel so damn good.” Skin to skin, they moved until neither could keep oblivion away.
Ray tried to whisper Zavier’s name again, but could only groan. He was so close, nearly to the end of the world, because Zavier wasn’t just fucking him—he was making love to Ray.
Zavier spoke, words thick and breathless. “I want your come all over my desk. I want to sit here and see the stains your jizz leaves when I’m reading, when
I’m paying bills. I want proof of this. Of us.” He thrust deep over and over again.
Ray lowered his head and moaned, his heart full, and shattered as waves of pleasure swept over him. He did exactly what Zavier had demanded, coming all over the pristine green blotter, turning the thick paper dark with his semen.
Zavier came a moment later, burying himself in Ray.
God, Ray loved that, too. The way Zavier shuddered and groaned as he emptied himself inside him.
They marked each other. Every time. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.
Took both of them a little time to recover. Tissues cleaned up what the blotter hadn’t caught, and eventually Ray was curled up in Zavier’s lap again, this time naked and relaxed and so very sated. His heart beat in time with Zavier’s and was so full he couldn’t keep the words from spilling out.
“I love you so fucking much. I hope you don’t mind.” He pressed his cheek against Zavier’s, a little trickle of worry worming into his soul. “I can’t help it.”
That fear vanished when Zavier laughed. “I’d be a fool to mind,” he said. “And I’m honored you trust me with your heart, given everything you know about me...”
Ray tried to speak, tried to protest, but Zavier’s finger was on his lips, demanding silence and attention.
“Ray, seeing you happy, hearing you sing, watching you make our band into what it is—that’s my passion. You’re like drumming or fine wine or—”
“Really good sex?” Ray said against that finger, then licked it.
Zavier chuckled. “The best sex I’ve ever had in my life has been with you. You are sex, Ray Van Zeller. And yes, that’s my passion, too.”
“It’s almost like you love me,” Ray teased. They’d talked long and hard about the different meanings of the word and how they related to their relationship. What Zav felt wasn’t romantic, but as Mish had said all those months ago, there were all kinds of love.
Zavier clicked his tongue. “You know that phrase doesn’t do it for me. I don’t know that it ever will.”
That was pure Zavier, right there, and Ray adored him for it. He shrugged. “I’m wearing your ring.” That and the leather band on his ankle were more than enough. Constant reminders that Zavier wasn’t leaving him. Them. They were in this together.