Tequila Mockingbird (28 page)

Connor swallowed, clenching his fingers into the sheets. Then Forest’s long, elegant fingers stroked at his hole, plunging the tip of one past his dusky rim, and Connor lost his mind.

The faint golden light from the overhead lamp threw every rise of muscle on Forest’s body into a study of bright and dark. The ropy cords on Forest’s arms stood out as he slid his fingers in deeper, coating his hole with a thick slather of fragrant oil. Heated by Forest’s warm skin, the lubricant’s faint vanilla scent turned musky thick.

“God, baby,” Connor growled. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

He couldn’t wait. Didn’t want to wait. Connor snapped a condom over his eager cock. Gripping Forest’s wrist, Connor guided his lover’s fingers out of his suckling hole. The blond surrendered to Connor, allowing himself to be placed on a rise of thick accent pillows, his back resting against the headboard.

Forest’s hands came up to skim over Connor’s shoulders, tracing out every bulge and dip of his broad chest and arms. They kissed, and Connor moaned into his lover’s mouth, his cock dancing up against Forest’s length, a quick bow of hello, then a rub for good measure.

“I like this,” Forest rasped. “I like being able to see you.”

“I like being able to see you too.” Connor slid his hands under Forest’s thighs, spreading him open. “Hold on to me,
a ghra
. I’m planning on giving you the ride of your life.”

He slid in, hot and hard. Forest took him, grunting from the intrusion, but Con’s legs came up, and Connor slipped his bended legs under his lover, cradling Forest’s hips with his hands. He shoved up again, thrusting deeper, and bent his head down to kiss the length of Forest’s neck. The man moaned and writhed, twisting around Connor’s dick as it throbbed in Forest’s depths.

“Fuck,” Forest stammered. “Shit, you’re so—fucking huge.”

If there was a heaven, Connor was sure he’d found its gates or at least an angel guarding it, because Forest’s face shone with deep pleasure, and the shadows of Connor’s day burned away under the sheer delight he felt at hearing Forest begging for more.

“Grab my shoulders,
a ghra
,” Connor ordered brusquely. “And hold on.”

Forest did as he was told, gripping Con’s shoulders tightly. Anchored on Connor’s dick, he leaned back, resting against the headboard. Grabbing the high wooden slat board on either side of Forest’s shoulders, Connor slammed up, rocking into his lover’s clench. The bed held—as did Forest, and Connor grinned wickedly, poised to fuck Forest until the man went boneless and sleepy.

It took him a few seconds to find the right beat, but after a couple of tentative thrusts, Connor hit the mark of Forest’s body. He felt the shiver work through Forest’s thighs when he hit the man’s sweet spot, and Forest’s balls tightened up, rolling in the curve of Connor’s body.

Connor caught himself and fell into a steady rhythm, shifting and rolling his hips to angle his cock into Forest’s tight channel. His body grew slick with a dewy sweat, and Forest licked at his nipple, catching the nub with a nip of his teeth.

The slight pain drove needling sensations down his belly and straight into Connor’s balls. Hitching his lover up with a thrust of his thighs, Connor worked in hard, stretching Forest’s legs farther apart. The man’s hands slipped down to Con’s arms, and Forest grunted again, bending toward Connor. Panting, Forest dove a hand down between their pressed-together bodies, finding the length of his dick plastered against Con’s stomach.

Forest’s moving fingers tickled, and Connor laughed, the tiny jerking movements from his chuckles jostling Forest’s ass as he bounced up and down on Con’s dick. Supported by the curl in Connor’s form and the high headboard, Forest began to stroke himself off, the squick of his hand moving over his cock an erotic counterpoint to the steady slap of their bodies meeting.

Their existence stretched only as far as their bodies, and Connor felt
everything
else disappear. The only thing—the only person—to matter in that space and time was Forest. His heartbeat skipped along, matching Forest’s erratic panting and groans.

“Love you,” Forest murmured softly. “God, I’m sorry….”

It broke Connor’s heart to hear the tender plea in Forest’s voice. Even after meeting the man’s mother, Con couldn’t wrap his mind around Forest’s life and what he’d survived—endured—just to be with Connor in that moment.

He slowed his beating thrusts and used one hand to cup his lover’s jaw, turning Forest’s tearstained face toward him. Kissing at the silvery trails, Connor pressed his lips against Forest’s damp lashes, shushing him with low, cooing murmurs.

“So fast—us,” Forest mumbled. “Not. Even. Real.”

“Yeah, baby, it’s real,” Connor reassured him, stroking Forest’s face with his thumb. Rolling his hips, he worked in and out of Forest’s body, his dick pulling at the tight ring. “This. You. Me. Fuck, us. How can this not be real? You feel so fucking good. On my body. In my soul. In my fucking heart. So yeah,
a ghra
, so fucking real.”

Forest clung to him, weathering the storm of Connor’s lovemaking. Then he arched back, reveling in the long strokes. Forest reached again for his cock. Running his fingers down his shaft, his knuckles caught on the ridges of Connor’s abdomen.

“Come for me, baby,” Connor urged softly. “Show me how much you like this. Show me how much you love me.”

Forest’s spill hit them hard and fast, a torrent of hot, milky seed over the ridge of his cock. It flowed down his fingers and worked through the hair trailing from Con’s navel. Bending over, Connor kissed his lover and rocked, matching his strokes to the shuddering tremors of Forest’s release. Forest tasted sweet and dark, a thread of sensual honey woven through the dim shadows of their bedroom. When Forest’s tongue flicked over the roof of Connor’s mouth, he flung himself into the rising swell of pleasure coming up from his balls and plunged as far as he could into his lover’s body, his balls sliding through the part of Forest’s cleft.

The slight squeeze of Forest’s ass on his balls drove Connor the rest of the way, and he emptied his load, his come shooting up hot and strong into the hollow of Forest’s body. His cock sang and spilled, enrobed in his release. Forest gave one last shuddering mewl and went limp, panting hard as Connor’s cock spat out its last few curls, his balls twined up to cuddle Forest’s body.

Gently, he rolled Forest over, sliding free of his lover’s limp form. Connor tossed the knotted condom in the general direction of the room’s trash can, then tugged a sheet over them, not caring if they woke up stuck to the fabric and probably each other.

“Fuck, I’m going to pay for that in the morning,” Forest laughed. “Like drumming wasn’t enough.”

“Want me to take it back?” Connor teased. “Because I’m pretty sure I can do it in reverse. Maybe not all of it, but the important bits.”

“Wouldn’t live through it.” Forest yawned, his eyes heavy from fatigue. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Loving me. Fuck, even thinking about wanting me.” Forest sighed, snuggling his shoulder against Connor’s chest. “It’s like a dream. Except with some of the world still pushing in. Like… whoever killed those people at the Amp.”

“And your mother,” Connor reminded him, kissing the tip of Forest’s nose.

He made a face and said, “Yeah, her.”

“How about if we worry about all of that in the morning?”

“Yeah, if I can move,” Forest said through a yawn, “I think I’m going to bail her out.”

“Okay.” He stayed quiet after that. Connor could almost hear Forest thinking, the wheels turning carefully. “If that’s what you want.”

“I need to see her,” he confessed in a low voice. “I need to tell her we’re done. I can’t have her shit on me anymore. She can’t keep—I won’t let her fuck me up any more. And it fucking hurts, but she’s—my mother poisons me—my life. Is that wrong? Asking her to just… walk away.”

“No, babe, it’s not,” he replied, kissing the damp blond strands at Forest’s temple. “Sometimes, even if you want to love someone, they’re so bad for you—they’ll kill off parts of you even as you try to love them more. I can’t say I’ll be sad if you never have anything to do with her, but if ever you change your mind, I’ll support that too. Whatever you need, so long as she doesn’t get to hurt you anymore.”

“Because you love me.” Forest’s whisper could barely be heard over their breathing, but Connor caught it anyway.

“Yeah, baby.” Connor tucked his fingers under Forest’s chin and gently pushed up so he could look down into his lover’s face. “Because I love you.”

Restless itch

Need to scratch my sin

Fingers in deep

Don’t let it end

Confused and alone

Someone’s puppet again

—
Scratch My Sin

“D
ID
YOU
have to bring all of Sinner’s Gin with you to look at these?” Kiki grumbled, passing a stack of booking photo slips over to Forest.

“No, just the ones that are alive,” he muttered under his breath. “They wanted to come. It’s for support.”

“They’re signing autographs.” She rolled a chair over to the desk where he sat, staring at the musicians standing at the edge of the bull pen. “Shit, now Damie’s autographing some chick’s boobs. They’re going to get my ass kicked.”

Forest glanced over his shoulder at the guys who’d brought him in. Damie looked like he was eating up the attention, and Miki had what Forest now knew was his “public” face on, an inscrutable, polite mask he donned to work through a crowd of grasping people. He met the singer’s eyes and winked, getting Miki to crack a wry smile at him.

It’d been almost three weeks since the stolen van crashed through the Amp, and in that time, the shift in his life was nearly too much for Forest to wrap his mind around. The band—
the band
—was his lifeblood. Spending hours with Miki and Damie playing made him almost forget someone was trying to kill him. At first, he’d wondered if the two guys were merely humoring his presence so Connor didn’t worry about him being alone, but they’d clicked. He endured Damie’s boisterous ego and laughed with Miki when the guitarist went off about music in general.

And the playing—God, the music they made—it flowed through his soul and filled him. Then there was Connor.

He tugged at his jeans, silently scolding his quickly hardening dick. Shit, even thinking about the man gave him a hard-on. Not something he wanted to deal with in the middle of the day without Connor around to help him get rid of it.

“Perv,” Forest scolded his cock. “You’re at a goddamned police station.”

His cock ignored him, continuing its merry little happy dance as if to remind him
cop
was now on the list of erotic words that got Forest horny.

“Fucker,” he muttered halfheartedly.

“Hey.” Miki pulled up a chair and sat by Forest’s elbow, peering over his arm to look at the photos. “These the guys Frank had a beef with?”

“Some,” Kiki replied. “Mostly people he knew back in the day—when he was more of a druggie. Or at least getting popped more for possession.”

“He was a stoner, sure,” Forest murmured, staring at the photos. “But nothing hard. Nobody gets killed over pot.”

“Ackerman, people get killed for stealing someone’s pen,” she replied caustically. “Take your time and just look through the photos. See if you recognize anyone who’d come by the Amp recently. It’s a long shot, but something might hit you. You wait here. I’m going to get Mr. Rockstar out of sight before my captain spots him and I get chewed out.”

He sat, listening to Miki hum and sing next to him. The man was never quiet, not really. He vibrated with sound, a thrumming soul only silent when he was asleep. And, as Forest discovered one day when Miki’d passed out on the couch, he sang then too.

“I like that,” Miki said softly. “What you just tapped out. Here, write it down.”

“You write it down,” Forest said, ruefully discovering he’d started drumming on the tabletop in time with Miki’s humming. Passing over a pen and notepad from a stack on Kiki’s desk, he waved the photos in the air. “I’ve got homework. Jesus, Frank knew a lot of lowlifes. This is going to take forever.”

They worked in silence, Miki scribbling down music while Forest stared at faces he didn’t know. He pulled out five shots of maybes, then glanced over to where Damie still stood, talking and smiling at the small cluster of people around him.

“He really likes that, huh?” Forest murmured to Miki.

“Yeah, D’s always been the rock star. Even before he was one.” Miki’s mouth tugged into a smirk. “He used to pour on the charm to get laid. Now he’s getting laid, and there’s nowhere for it to go. Going to explode if we don’t do something about it soon.”

“Eh?” Forest cocked his head, not following what Miki was saying. “I don’t get it.”

“We’re going to have to get up on stage soon.” Miki stopped writing long enough to look toward Damien. “He kind of needs that. Always has. So, there it is. Got you now on drums. All we’re missing is a bassist. ’Cause yeah, I can play one, but I’m fucking mediocre. I don’t want to sing in front of crappy music.”