A Bulletproof New Year (The Holiday Collection Book 2)

by Jenna Galicki

  The New Year’s Eve celebration at the Aon Grand Ballroom was a high-dollar formal event, and Cameron was happy to dress for the occasion. The guys, on the other hand, not so much. Rock stars always managed to integrate jeans into their formalwear, and it somehow worked. Cameron didn’t really mind. Brandon was sexy in anything he wore – or nothing at all.

  He scanned the ballroom, impressed by the domed ceiling and panoramic views of Chicago’s skyline with Lake Michigan glistening in the distance. The place was decorated beautifully, the food was incredible, and the drinks were strong. Too many martinis left him in need of the restroom, and he excused himself from his group of friends. He hurried through the crowd of people, eager to get back to his husband and the night ahead, especially Bulletproof’s performance at midnight.

  After Cameron took a leak, he checked his hair – which was still perfect – and straightened his bowtie. He exited the bathroom, ready to rejoin the party, but didn’t get two steps before he came face to face with Brandon, almost bumping chests. “What are you doing?” he asked, with a small laugh.

  Brandon answered with a predatory smile and raised his brows.

  Cameron knew that look and let out an erotic chuckle, but before he had a chance to say anything, Brandon took him by the lapels of his three-thousand-dollar tuxedo and pushed him against the wall.

  “I’ve been dying to get you alone all night,” Brandon whispered, in a raspy voice.

  Cameron loved the way Brandon tried to manhandle him. The aggressive posturing turned his crotch to stone and had his blood surging and his heart pounding. His body tingled, and his internal temperature rose to a thousand degrees. His dominant husband could send him from cold to hot with a touch of a finger. Those sexy-as-fuck lips hit his in a succulent kiss that made his loose-fitting slacks practically burst at the zipper, and he wanted more. A lot more. He grunted into the kiss, pushing his mouth against Brandon’s, which got him flattened against the wall by Brandon’s muscular frame.

  Cameron needed to pull his mouth away for a gasp of air, and quickly reversed their positions, so Brandon was the one pressed against the Sheetrock. “Keep kissing me like that and rubbing against me, and I’m going to drop a load in my expensive pants.”

  Brandon’s possessive hands landed on Cameron’s buttocks and he bucked his hips forward, delivering a jolt of intense friction, which made Cameron intake a gust of air and sent his hormones colliding. He was starting to think that making a mess was inevitable. “Is there an emergency dry cleaner in this place?”

  Brandon winked and gestured down the hallway. “No. But there’s a janitor’s closet.”

  Feeling frisky and deliciously naughty, a surge of excitement made goosebumps run up Cameron’s back. “Lead the way, rock star.”

  They hurried down the hallway but slowed their pace and tried not to smile when another couple passed them in the opposite direction. After several yards, Brandon paused in front of a door clearly marked as containing janitorial supplies. With his finger to his lips, Brandon looked around to make sure no one was watching before quietly turning the knob, and the door opened without a sound.

  They shared a mischievous smile and were about to step into the closet, but the sound of heavy breathing made them freeze in place. The closet was already occupied by a guy with blue hair pumping into a stunning blonde. Her eyes were rolling up in her head with her chin jutted toward the ceiling. Her cheeks were flushed, while her chest heaved out raspy gusts of air, seemingly on the verge of an orgasm. The guy was biting his lip and his brows were pinched together as he pounded into her. Holy hell. Hetero sex was fucking hot!

  Instead of shutting the door and leaving, both Brandon and Cameron stood and stared, as if mesmerized.

  “We should go,” Cameron whispered, though he made no attempt to leave or avert his gaze, and Brandon never responded.

  The couple barely slowed their momentum when they noticed the intrusion but looked briefly at Cameron before their eyes settled on Brandon with recognition.

  “Sorry, bruh,” Brandon said, with a crooked smile, and then closed the door.

  Cameron pulled Brandon down the hall, covering his mouth to stifle a laugh, but as soon as they made eye contact, they both burst into hysterics.

  “I know that dude,” Brandon said, wiping a tear from his eye.

  “You’re kidding?”

  “No. That was Kane Keller. He’s the bass player for MFB, a local band out of San Diego.”

  Cameron threw his head back and laughed harder. It was one thing to get busted by a total stranger. Getting caught with your pants down by someone you knew was so much more embarrassing.

  As they continued walking, Cameron realized that their little rendezvous had been quickly extinguished, and disappointment made him sigh. “I guess we’re not going to bring in the new year with a bang.”

  “That’s not the only closet in this place.” Brandon led Cameron around a corner and stopped in front of another door.

  “What did you do, get a blueprint of the building?” Cameron asked with a smile, his spirits lifted.

  “I always have a backup plan,” Brandon bragged. He tried the knob and raised his brows. “Bingo.” They stepped inside, quickly shut the door behind them, and switched on the light.

  It was a storage closet, which contained empty coat racks, seasonal decorations, and extra chairs. More importantly, it was unoccupied.

  Impatient, Cameron made the first move. He took hold of those broad shoulders and pushed Brandon against the wall, knocking over a tall lamp in the process. His lips assaulted Brandon with a kiss so hard his teeth hurt. The guy tried to push back by latching onto Cameron’s waist, but Cameron used his entire body as leverage, leading with his crotch. Their tongues twirled together, and their hips gyrated against one another in a frantic bout of posturing and lust, as if they hadn’t been together in a month, when, in reality, it had only been last night.

  With a sudden burst of power, Brandon pushed off the wall and marched Cameron backwards until he hit a table, sending a box of Christmas ornaments scattering across the floor.

  “I’m going to take you right here. On this table,” Brandon announced, with authority.

  Cameron challenged him with a hard gaze. “How about I take you on this table?”

  “Not a chance.”

  Quick as a cat, Cameron slipped out from underneath Brandon and circled him. With a hand on Brandon’s upper back, he pushed his husband down until his chest hit the table and thrust his hips forward, so his erection hit Brandon in the money spot.

  Brandon looked over his shoulder with shock and surprise plastered across his face and an aroused look in his eyes. “Where’d you learn that move?”

  Cameron shrugged one shoulder. “I got skills.”

  “Shit yeah, you do.”

  Cameron peeled the studded leather jacket off Brandon’s shoulders and tossed it onto a nearby chair, then added his tuxedo jacket to the pile. He slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt, maintaining eye contact with Brandon, who was now standing upright and watching with a hypnotic gaze. The rest of their clothes joined the heap on the chair, and they stood facing one another completely naked, challenging each other with an unmoving stare and solid jaws.

  They reached for each other at the same time. Mouths smashed together in a hungry kiss, while their arms grabbed hold of one another in a hefty bear hug that quickly turned into a wrestling match for the upper hand. Cameron found himself pushed against a pile of boxes. A corner of one of them hit him in the back of the thigh before it fell over with a thud. With their lips still pressed together, he retaliated by forcing Brandon to walk backwards in the opposite direction. They knocked into a coatrack, causing most of the wire hangers to hit the floor with a splatter of metallic pings. They postured and dominated each other with a test of strength for a few more moments before Cameron finally submitted. He stopped fighting and went limp in Brandon’s arms. The aggressive hold they had on one another melted away, and the forc
eful kiss became soft and tender.

  “I surrender. I always do.” Cameron sauntered over to the table, bent over, and supported himself on his elbows. He looked over his shoulder and gave Brandon a smile under hooded lids. “Is this how you want to take me?”

  Brandon’s eyes glazed over, and he licked his lips. “You fucking know it.”

  “Then what are you waiting for, rock star? Get the hell over here and show me how much you love me.”

  Brandon raced toward the pile of clothing on the chair, dug into his jacket pocket and produced a tube of lubricating jelly. He was prepared, and it made Cameron smile.

  A strong, slippery hand bathed Cameron’s bottom with slickness as Brandon used his fingers to stretch and prep him with precision until he was ready. A deep guttural moan left his lungs as his husband invaded him with one deep thrust. He arched his back and leaned his head back. “Oh God that feels so fucking good.”

  Brandon responded by thrusting repeatedly, hard and deep, as his fingers dug into Cameron’s hips and held him with force and control. Their bodies slapped together, pushing and pressing their love into one another.

  Thoroughly inebriated by the sensations coursing through him, Cameron peeked over his shoulder to watch the pleasure on his husband’s face.

  Brandon’s blue eyes were covered in a haze of euphoria, and his long blond hair framed his face in wild waves. It swayed in the breeze created by their combined momentum like spun gold.

  Brandon’s hand suddenly grabbed hold of Cameron’s shaft and stroked it hard and fast. Each long stroke sent shockwaves through him. His body hummed and his nerve endings vibrated until he could take no more and all the sensations collided at once, and he exploded. When his body settled, Brandon was riding through his own orgasm. After a few moments, Brandon let out an animalistic grunt, finished with a deep thrust, and slowly collapsed with his arms around Cameron’s waist. He placed a soft kiss in the center of Cameron’s back, letting his lips linger. “You still drive me fucking crazy, Cam.”

  Cameron slowly found the strength to straighten up, his heartrate settling back into a normal rhythm. He gently took Brandon’s cheeks in his hands and kissed the man he loved more than anything in the world.

  Brandon smiled into the kiss. “Look at this room.”

  It was a mess. Boxes were knocked over. The coat rack teetered on three legs while the hangers were in a mangled pile underneath it. A lamp was on the floor, and Christmas ornaments were scattered everywhere. Cameron chuckled at the disarray. “Let’s get outta here.”

  Just as they finished getting dressed, the door swung open.

  “Whoa. Are you two finished or just getting started?” It was Alan, standing with Jeremy, wearing identical grins.

  “Look at his hair.” Jeremy pointed at Brandon and laughed. “He looks like he just got his ass pounded for an hour.”

  “Dude, I’m not a bottom,” Brandon replied.

  Cameron raised a brow. “Not this time.”

  “Not important,” Alan stated. “Either skedaddle or take the other side of the room, because I’m horny as fuck.”

  “All yours.” As they left the room, Brandon clapped his hand onto Alan’s shoulder. “Try not to trash the place, bruh.”

  Alan grunted. “It looks like it’s too late for that.”

  Brandon and Cameron returned to the ballroom and found their table, which was empty. A quick scan of the place found Derek standing on top of the bar playing air guitar while rocking his long black hair all over the place. He was wearing his “fuck me” kilt, undoubtedly giving full frontal to the people below. Travis stood on the bar next to him belting out the lyrics to Kiss’ Rock and Roll All Night into a beer bottle mic.

  Cameron chuckled at their antics. “The night isn’t complete until Derek dances on a table.”

  When the song ended, they climbed down and joined Brandon and Cameron for a drink.

  “Way to class up the place, guys,” Cameron joked, with a laugh.

  “I can’t help it. I gotta rock!” Derek said, holding up a shot glass before tossing it back.

  “And he twisted my arm.” Travis displayed a sly smile because everyone knew that he was often the instigator.

  Twenty minutes later, Alan and Jeremy returned from their liaison in the storage room. “This place is nuts!” Jeremy exclaimed. “Did you see the silent auctions? I bid on a 40-foot sailboat.”

  Cameron’s eyes immediately shot to Brandon, who, surprisingly, didn’t own a boat. The guy had practically every extravagance imaginable, but not a boat. “Let me guess. After the tour is over, we’re going boat shopping.”

  “You know me so well.”

  “There’s even a tattoo booth set up on the other side of the room,” Alan announced. “Let’s all get a commemorative tattoo.” He slapped Cameron on the back. “Ready to get inked for the first time, bruh?”

  Cameron’s eyebrows skyrocketed. He loved the tattoos that covered Brandon’s chest and arms, as well as the artwork the rest of the guys had, but he was too conservative. Plus, he wasn’t a fan of pain. “No way. Not me. You guys go ahead. I’ll be happy to watch.”

  Alan looked around the table at the rest of the guys. “Everyone up for a new tat?”

  They all nodded, and the group left the table together. There was a small commotion now that Bulletproof wasn’t in the VIP area of the ballroom, and they needed security to accompany them to the tattoo place.

  A pierced, tattooed woman greeted them with enthusiasm. She was obviously a fan, and her whole face lit up when she saw Bulletproof was at the center of the security escort. But she remained professional and quickly ushered the group to an area behind the velvet rope and into the booth for privacy. “Please feel free to browse through the artists’ portfolios. Someone will be with you shortly.”

  While the guys all picked up a bound album, Cameron gazed at the setup. Men and women sat in chairs and on tables while machines buzzed, and artists adorned their bodies with art. He stretched his neck to inspect their selections and the artists’ work. It was all beautiful.

  “There’s some nice shit in here,” Alan remarked, while he flipped through an artist’s portfolio, with Jeremy looking over his shoulder. “Does anyone have an idea about what to get?”

  Brandon was the first to answer. “I’m getting my signature mantra. We. Are. Bulletproof. In hammered letters like the band’s logo.”

  Derek displayed a wide smile as he draped his arm around Travis’ shoulder and pulled him in for a side hug. “My guy got the Bulletproof logo on his butt.” He winked at Travis. “Show ‘em, baby.”

  Without hesitation, Travis dropped his jeans, turned, and pulled down the top of his boxer briefs to expose the band’s logo – 3-D block letters that spelled out “Bulletproof” above twin bullets meeting head on. The detail was amazing, and it looked more like a sticker than a tattoo.

  Jeremy traced his finger over the lettering and inspected it closely. “Wow. When did you get that? It’s awesome.”

  “When I first met Derek.”

  Derek simultaneously yanked on Travis’ arm and swiped Jeremy’s hand away. “Dude, get your hands off my husband’s butt.”

  At the same time, Alan jerked Jeremy back by his T-shirt. “Yeah. My butt’s the only butt you’re touching.”

  “Chill.” Jeremy held his hands up, innocently. “I was just admiring the artwork.” Then he smiled playfully and winked at Travis. “Ya got a hard little butt there.”

  Travis thew his head back and laughed, while both Derek and Alan glared at Jeremy.

  A dude approached with a bunch of clipboards and handed them out, interrupting the teasing banter taking place. “We have three artists ready in about five minutes,” he said. Three more will be ready shortly. Who wants to go first?”

  Without thinking, Cameron raised his index finger. “I’ll go.” He didn’t know what the hell came over him, but he suddenly wanted a tattoo. There was something about this fun-loving group of guys that always made
him push his boundaries. Their sense of freedom and no-holds-barred good times brought out his adventurous and impulsive side, something he never exhibited until he met this crazy bunch.

  “You want to get a tattoo?” Brandon asked, shocked at the announcement.

  Cameron nodded. “I want to get the Bulletproof logo. Like Travis. Only . . .” He placed his hand over his left pec. “I want it over my heart.”

  Brandon sorta melted and bent his knees slightly as he clutched his chest and displayed a warm smile, then wrapped Cameron in a hug. “I love it.”

  They decided that Cameron, Brandon, and Derek would go first, and Alan, Jeremy and Travis would wait for the next set of artists. After filling out the paperwork, Cameron found himself shirtless and flat on his back on a tattoo artist’s worktable. His heart fluttered, and he swallowed a gulp of nerves. He was really doing this. He sucked in a deep breath as the needle came down onto his chest. It hurt and stung, but it was tolerable. It wasn’t as bad as he expected, and he was proud of himself for conquering another first in his life. He turned his head and caught Brandon staring at him from the other artist’s workstation.

  “You OK?”

  Cameron nodded, then turned his gaze up to the ceiling and dazed out until his tattoo was done. He sat up and admired it in a handheld mirror. It was beautiful, and he loved it. It solidified the connection he had not just to Brandon, but to this group of friends that he now considered brothers. “It’s gorgeous.”

  Brandon’s blond hair filled the outskirts of the mirror’s reflection from behind Cameron. “That looks rad,” Brandon commented.

  “It does. I’m so happy with it.” He thanked the artist and turned around to inspect Brandon’s tattoo. The lettering was perfect, and he could practically hear Brandon chanting the mantra on stage.

  It took about another hour and a half before everyone’s tattoos were finished, and they all came out awesome. It was a really cool idea, and Cameron was happy that Alan had suggested it.