by Jet Mykles
There was no answer behind him, but he didn’t dare look back. He left the suite’s bedroom for the main room and went to the cart with the leftovers from their dinner. He knew very well it didn’t have any more of the pound cake he referred to.
“Damn,” he muttered, loud enough for Hell -- who he knew was behind him -- to hear. “Hey, how about I order some cake and ice cream?”
“Why do you do that?”
Brent picked up the phone and punched the room service button. “Do what?”
Hell glared at him from the bedroom doorway, refusing to speak while Brent was on the phone.
Brent missed talking for a moment, caught by the amazing beauty of the naked man in the suite with him. Small and compact, pale and gorgeous as a cream-and-purple rose, he looked so sweet and innocent, and he was really anything but.
“Sir?” came the voice over the phone.
“Oh, hey.” He turned around to take the distracting sight of the imp away. “Can you send up some of that pound cake and ice cream? Vanilla.” He finished his order, then turned back around, smiling. “They’ll bring it right up.”
Hell was still scowling, arms crossed as he leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb. “Why do you do that?”
“What? Order ice cream? Haven’t you realized that I like ice cream yet?” Boldly, he stepped up to Hell and put his hands to either side of that gorgeous little face. “I like creamy things.”
He pressed a soft kiss to those scowling lips, hoping against hope that Hell would let himself be distracted.
Hell allowed the kiss, but frowned up at him when Brent pulled back. “That’s not what I mean.”
“But I do like creamy things,” Brent purred, sliding one hand down Hell’s neck.
Amethyst eyes narrowed even as Brent’s hand continued to drift downward. “Do you like me?”
Brent smiled and let his eyes heat. He’d come to the conclusion that he couldn’t very well deny it, so why bother. “Yeah.” He bent his head to press his lips to Hell’s shoulder. His hand found Hell’s cock.
The soft organ twitched as he fondled it, starting to harden. “Then why won’t you say it?”
Brent nipped at Hell’s shoulder. “I’ve got better things to do with my mouth.” He dropped to his knees, quickly taking most of Hell’s dick into said mouth.
The imp hissed, both strong hands coming to rest on and squeeze Brent’s shoulders. “Brent,” he moaned.
No talking, Brent willed, suckling the velvety-soft skin, loving how it grew in his mouth. Think about this. Just this.
Brent nuzzled and sucked until he had Hell fully hard.
A knock sounded.
Grinning, he popped Hell’s dick from his mouth. He tipped his head to meet Hell’s eyes. “Oops.”
Hell growled.
Brent laughed as he pushed past Hell into the bedroom to grab his sweatpants.
“You did that on purpose,” Hell accused, retreating to the bed as Brent stepped into his pants.
“Did not.”
Hell snorted and flopped back on the bed. His hand went immediately to his cock.
The knock sounded on the door again.
“You should get that,” Hell told him airily, waving his free hand in the air.
Brent narrowed his eyes and grunted, sure that he’d just gotten the rotten end of this deal. He turned and went to retrieve the tray of ice cream and cake from the guy, but only after making sure the bedroom door was mostly closed. He brought the tray back into the bedroom with him.
Hell lay spread in the middle of the navy-blue duvet, one pale, slim arm thrown above his head while the other languidly massaged his erection. Lavender bangs fell over his eyes, but Brent was pretty sure they were closed.
Watching avidly as Hell’s fist forced his foreskin over and back from the dripping tip of his cock, Brent set the tray down on the long table that stood beside the bed. “Cake and ice cream’s here.”
Hell hummed absently, not deigning to open his eyes.
Brent licked his lips. Hurriedly, he dropped his sweatpants to free his own throbbing erection. He pulled on his cock a few times before deciding that he really did need to taste what Hell had in his hand. He practically jumped on the bed, crawling over until his head was above Hell’s cock.
“I thought you wanted ice cream?”
Brent tilted his head to see amethyst eyes fastened on him from beneath a heavy fall of shiny purple hair. He smiled and stuck out his tongue, letting it skim across the pre-cum dripping from the tip of Hell’s cock. “I found some better cream.”
Hell’s eyes narrowed, and he jerked his cock flat against his belly, away from Brent’s mouth. “I should make you talk to me first.”
Brent scowled, averting his eyes from Hell’s. “What for, when I’m offering myself up for your pleasure?”
Hell was silent long enough for Brent to find the courage to look back up at his face. The smile there warmed his blood. A smile that Brent had grown to crave. The wicked tilt and the fire in his eyes exposed the demon that lived inside the cherubic body.
“Are you?”
Movement caught Brent’s attention, and he looked down to see Hell again massaging his own cock. When Brent bent his head toward it, however, Hell’s other hand shot down to grab his hair, preventing him.
He obediently froze, eyes closing and heart sinking. Again he willed Hell to drop the subject.
Hell released his hair with a sharp push. “Sit back on your heels.”
Brent did.
Hell scooted up farther on the bed until he had his back against the headboard. He considered Brent, then reached over to pick up the tray of ice cream.
Brent’s eyes widened in curiosity.
Hell picked up the spoon, slowly scooped up some of the cold treat, and brought it to his mouth. Brent licked his own lips as the lucky spoon disappeared between Hell’s soft lips.
“Come here. Hands and knees,” Hell said, pointing with the spoon to a spot between his spread legs.
Brent complied, happy to find a spoonful of vanilla ice cream waiting for him when he arrived. Eyes locked on Hell’s, he took the spoon and cream into his mouth.
Hell fed him three silent spoonfuls, alternating with spoonfuls for himself.
“Don’t swallow,” Hell ordered after the third spoonful.
Brent watched him, keeping ice cream in his mouth.
Hell grinned and pointed to his dick with the spoon. “Suck me.”
Humming happily, Brent lowered himself to Hell’s upright dick. He parted his lips and let some of the melted ice cream dribble onto the tip. Hell hissed, but didn’t tell him to stop. He placed his lips at the tip and smoothed his mouth down over Hell’s cock without losing too much more of the cream.
Hell cried out, arching his back and very nearly toppling the rest of the mostly frozen ice cream onto the duvet. Brent disregarded the bowl, intent on trying to cover Hell’s cock with cream without losing too much. It was a losing battle, but one he enjoyed thoroughly.
“Mmm, ja,” Hell murmured. The spoon clanked loudly in the bowl as he set the dish aside.
Brent lowered to his belly on the bed, freeing his hands to dig fingers into Hell’s sharp hipbones. He finally swallowed what cream remained in his mouth so that he could properly work Hell’s cock. Brent laved the tip, teasing the hole and the sensitive ridge, before sliding his lips and tongue down over the head and the shaft, cleaning up the sticky cream with his tongue. He let his mouth slide wetly up to the tip, then back down, repeating that move in a slow, languid pace that soon had Hell bucking up into his mouth on the downward slide. Once all the ice cream was gone, Brent settled down to serious sucking that soon enough had Hell crying out and spurting down his throat.
He sat up, licking his lips. Hell lay beneath him, staring, catching his breath. Before Brent could read his intent, Hell lunged up at him, tackling him to his back. His head dropped over the foot of the bed as Hell descended his body and swallowed down his cock. It was h
is turn to cry out, his turn to writhe, and his turn to spurt as Hell used lips, teeth, tongue, and fingers to bring him off.
Then he was floating again, happily panting as the tingles in his body subsided.
Hell pulled him further onto the bed so that his head wasn’t hanging off, then climbed his body. Hell’s hands circled Brent’s wrists, pinning them to the bed as Hell braced over him. Amethyst eyes held black. “Tell me that you love me.”
Brent’s eyes went wide.
Hell scowled. “Tell me that you love me. Because I love you.”
Brent’s mouth fell open, but no sound escaped.
“Tell me!”
“I --”
Hell waited.
“I --” He swallowed. Instinct told him to jump up, push away, but Hell’s steady gaze held him pinned more surely than the hands at his wrists. “Love is a big thing. I don’t know --”
Hell snarled, shoving up to sit across Brent’s lap. Brent tensed, not knowing if something painful was coming. But Hell just sat, fingernails digging into his own thighs. “You don’t know? You’ve spent the last three months with me, and you don’t know?”
“Three months isn’t that long.”
“It’s long enough.”
“I’ve never been in love before. How the hell should I know?”
Hell’s nostrils flared. His eyes narrowed. “Maybe because you’ve been in love so long and you never knew it.”
Brent pushed up to his elbows. “What?”
With an angry grunt, Hell tumbled from the bed. “I knew it,” Brent heard him grumble. “All along. There was no fighting it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You. You and your damned feelings. You won’t let yourself fall in love with me.”
“What?”
“You won’t. Because you’re in love with Luc.”
Brent gaped. “Where did that come from?”
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
“I haven’t seen Luc for weeks.”
“Yet you talk of him nearly every day. You’re in love with him.”
Brent pushed up onto his elbows, glaring at the man who paced across the room. “God damn it, Hell, I’ve told you that --”
“That’s over, I know. That you’re not sleeping with him, yes. That you’re best friends, and he’s closer than family, and you grew up together, and you’ve been through hard times together. Yes, yes, yes, I’ve heard it all. But I still think you’re in love with him.”
“I’m not in love with Luc!”
“No? You won’t make a decision without him.”
“That’s not --”
“You talk to him at least once a day, if not more.”
“That’s just because --”
“You are full of ‘Luc this’ and ‘when Luc and I that.’ I am sick of it.”
“Damn it, Hell, Luc is with Reese. When will you get that through your head?”
The German accent was as thick as it had ever been. “I did not say that Luc was in love with you. That I know. He has love and a lover. I said that you are in love with him, and it’s pathetic to watch when I offer you everything that I am.”
Brent got up, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the mattress. “Hell, we agreed that this was just sex.”
“Yes. I agreed. I thought it would be. But it’s so much more I want to be with you always”
“You’re with me now.”
“I want to know that you will stay with me.”
“How do I know you’ll stay with me? We’re going to be on tour. You’re going to meet a lot of guys --”
“I don’t want a lot of guys. I want you.”
Now, maybe. He shook his head. “This is a bad idea.”
Hell stopped pacing at the edge of the bed, leaning toward Brent. “No, this is a good idea. You and me. We’re good together.”
Brent wasn’t aware of shaking his head until Hell spoke. “Why no? Because you are in love with Luc.”
Brent spoke through panic. “I don’t love you, so I have to be in love with him?”
The imp froze, head snapping back as though he’d been slapped, gemstone eyes blazing. Then he turned and, without another word, stalked to the closet and yanked clothing from the hangers.
Brent watched him for a few silent moments until it was obvious that Hell was packing. To leave. Part of him wanted to stop Hell. But how? Brent would admit that he liked him, yes. How could he not? Hell was bright and lively and funny and too damn hot for words. Just touching him was nearly an orgasmic experience. But that was it.
Wasn’t it?
Hell disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door. A moment later, the shower sounded.
Brent fell back on the bed. What the fuck? He couldn’t just say he loved Hell. He didn’t. Did he? What he felt was just sex. Wasn’t it? It had to be. Because if he felt more and let himself fall and then Hell left him, that would break him. And the accusations about Luc were just plain fucking absurd.
Weren’t they?
Great! Now the imp had him questioning things he knew were true.
Angrily, Brent rolled off the bed and grabbed up his sweatpants. He stepped into them and took his cigarettes and lighter out to the balcony. He stayed there, intent on chain-smoking the entire pack, when he heard Hell come out of the shower. The imp could see him through the screen door, but didn’t come out. There were a few more moments filled with the sounds of packing, followed by angry footsteps.
The door opened. “I’ll send someone for my other luggage.”
Hell was gone.
Chapter Thirteen
Brent waited the next day, but other than a porter arriving to take Hell’s suitcases and garment bags, there was no contact from him.
Brent continued to resist the urge to call Luc and tell him what had happened, still smarting from Hell’s accusations. He was pretty sure that Hell was wrong about him being in love with Luc, but he did recognize that he didn’t have to tell his friend everything.
Brent stayed that day in the beautiful beach hotel that he and Hell had come to on a whim, but the quiet serenity of it lost its appeal without the imp. Late that afternoon, he called the airline and booked a flight to New York. Heaven Sent was due to meet up at the end of the week for a charity performance in Connecticut anyway. He’d just be a little early.
Tyler met him in the lobby of the Weiss and took him up to his room personally.
“The suite we had booked for you for this weekend isn’t ready yet,” Tyler apologized, leading the way into a perfectly respectable room.
Brent shrugged, entering and stepping aside for the porter to bring in his luggage. He tipped the guy while Tyler pushed open the curtains and cracked the window to let in the afternoon air.
Tyler turned as the porter left. He looked sharp in his gray suit, his blond hair waving artfully around his face. He frowned slightly. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?”
Brent tried for casual. “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.” Except this ache in my chest.
“Where’s Hell?”
Brent shrugged, dropping onto the couch. “Haven’t a clue.”
“Did you two break up?”
“Wasn’t anything to break up.”
“But ...?” He trailed off, and Brent didn’t see the need to clarify. “Okay. If you don’t want to tell me.”
Brent sighed. “There’s nothing to tell.”
He could tell by the look on Tyler’s face that the blond didn’t believe him, but Tyler left it at that. He nodded. “Okay. Do you want me to have some food sent up?”
“Nah. I’m beat. I’m just gonna crash.”
“Okay. Breakfast?”
“Yeah, That’d be great.”
“And the normal arrangements for the pool?”
He smiled and stood, stretching. “I love staying at your hotels, man. You take good care of me.”
Tyler came forward, reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “That’s what friends are for.”
&nbs
p; Brent almost broke. It’d be easy to talk to Tyler. He knew the blond cared, and Tyler was far enough removed from the situation that it might actually do some good. He really should talk to someone. He knew that. He hadn’t even called Luc since Hell left. He hadn’t talked to anyone.
But Brent kept his mouth shut. If he talked, that would make it real, and he was kind of okay with the empty feeling even if the ache went with it. If the empty went away, the pain would start. He just wasn’t ready to acknowledge what that meant. So, instead, he smiled and nodded, hoping Tyler saw the sincere gratitude in his eyes. “Thanks.”
Tyler waited, but when Brent said nothing else, he nodded and dropped his hand. “I’ll see to everything. You get some rest.”
It was inevitable, really. He’d known Tyler couldn’t stay silent. He was surprised that a call from Johnnie hadn’t been waiting for him when he’d arrived at the Weiss East. It took until the next morning for any of his band mates to contact him. Of course, he’d put a hold on the hotel phone’s calls and had turned off his cell.
When he turned on his cell, there were messages waiting from Johnnie, Darien, and Gretchen. Two from Luc. The last was quite simple: “Damn it, you’d better call me.”
He waited until he’d had his breakfast and his morning swim before returning the last call.
“What the hell happened?” Luc demanded, not even bothering with a hello. As usual, caller ID told him it was Brent.
He closed his eyes as an invisible fist gripped his heart. This was it If he said it here, it was real. “Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that, asshole. Tell me what happened with you and Hell. Why are you at the Weiss?”
He tried for flippant, easing toward what he didn’t want to face. “What’s the big deal?”
“You two have been joined at the hip for three months now, and you suddenly show up without him and won’t tell Tyler why. That’s the big deal. Something’s wrong. I can smell it.”
“From Seattle? Whoa, that’s a feat.”
“Fuck you. What happened?”