Fighting Addiction Page 9

  That sweet ass jerked around him, went so tight at his touch that he forgot to breathe a second. Markus kinda lost it then. He was too far gone to let Sebastian control their movements, so he pressed down, pushing Seb back on the bed, driving into that hot, amazing body.

  “Markus!” Sebastian groaned, body milking him as ropes of seed splashed over Seb’s belly.

  His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Sound needed breath. Markus came so hard his ears rang, his balls pulling up enough that it actually hurt for a few seconds.

  His head spun, his throat working as he groaned, and then Seb grabbed him, pulled him down into a hard hug. Markus let himself relax, let Seb hold him. God, he felt good. Fucking amazing.

  Seb’s rough panting evened out, became soft and slow breaths. For a moment Markus froze, not quite able to believe it. Sebastian was asleep. At 6:30 a.m.

  He moaned as he pulled out, dealt with the condom, keeping one hand on Seb’s belly. What the fuck was he going to do now? He couldn’t just leave, but Seb was notorious for not letting people on his bus….

  Bev, though, was the only person who could possibly catch them.

  Screw it. He eased away, watching Seb for any signs of waking. He’d call his driver, Heath, and let him know to go on without him if they got ready to go before he woke up.

  Then he could slip back into Sebastian’s bed, which was where he really wanted to be.

  Chapter Ten

  SOMETHING SMELLED good.

  Really good.

  Sebastian frowned, sliding on the sheets. “Sausage biscuit?”

  “Hey, baby. I got Bev to get some. A treat.” Markus looked rumpled, well-rested, and hot as all hell, naked but for his guitar.

  “Mmm.” He nodded, licked his lips. “A treat.”

  God, look at that hot motherfucker. Seb could ride him into next week.

  “Yep. They’re right there if you want one.” Nodding at a covered plate, Markus strummed out a couple of chords.

  “I shouldn’t.” He wanted to, though. He loved hearing that lazy picking.

  “Hell, have a bite. If it doesn’t agree with you, I’ll finish it.” Markus strummed some more, the notes shaping themselves into “Walkin’ the Floor.”

  He chuckled and gave in, snagging a biscuit, moaning as he took a bite. Oh, yummy. “Can you do ‘Waltz Across Texas’ for me?” He liked that one. He stretched, body sore but happy. He probably needed to see what time it was. Soon.

  “Hell, yes.” Markus sang for him, a little scratchy in the throat but better than he’d been at the start of the tour. The man got stronger every day.

  Seb ate another bite, then stopped to sing harmony in the chorus. God, that sausage was nice and spicy, the biscuit flaky and buttery.

  As soon as the song was done, Markus reached for another biscuit and wolfed it down. “Somehow I worked up an appetite.”

  “You work out?” He ate another bite, chewing slowly.

  “Today, you mean? Nope. Been lazy so far.”

  “It…. Did I sleep long?”

  “Well, define long, baby.” Markus grinned for him, and there was something in those dark eyes that told him long had been longer than he’d like.

  “Just don’t tell anyone.” He’d stress about it later. After another bite.

  “No, sir. In fact, we were on a travel hiatus. The buses leave in two hours.”

  “Yeah?” He stretched, wiggled. “You talked to Bev?”

  “A little. Nothing bossy, I promise.” Markus licked those long fingers before reaching for him.

  He went. He had to. There was all that fuzzy, tanned skin to explore. The biscuit had been tasty, but Candy was always sweeter. Markus drew him onto the strong thighs, spreading him like butter. His raw ass slid on Markus’s skin, the rough hair on Markus’s legs scraping like mad.

  His lips parted, this noise leaving him. Oh, fuck. That was like the best kind of heat, ever.

  “Damn, baby. Your skin is hot.” Markus stroked his butt with one hand, humming.

  “Uh-huh. Burns.” So good. His eyes might have crossed.

  “Love it.” Those big fingers caught his skin, pinching a little.

  “I….” He needed to get up. Work out. Work. Take his meds. Do stuff. But….

  “Shh.” Markus’s kiss left him breathless, left him unable to think of excuses.

  His fingers tangled in the soft fuzz covering Markus’s chest, and he held on, lost in the way Markus’s tongue fucked his lips. God, he hadn’t thought he’d ever have this again. Ever.

  He might not have it again after this, so he was going to feel every second. Markus’s cock rubbed his belly, hot and wet and so good. If his mouth wasn’t busy, he would have told Markus that he dreamed about that fat, long cock, about those hands and the way Markus touched him. Hell, he could probably tell Markus all that with his touch. Markus could read him like a book.

  Markus moaned and grabbed his hip, fingers digging in, bringing his attention into sharp focus. Panting, he tugged at Markus’s nipples, then the head of that heavy cock.

  Markus jerked under him, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and tugging. “Baby.”

  “Uh-huh?” He pulled again, thumb teasing the slit.

  “Don’t tease me.” Markus started rocking and rolling, hips starting to push up.

  “Why not?” Teasing Markus sounded like a delicious idea.

  “Because I need you too much.” One big hand covered his, showing him what Markus wanted.

  He groaned, playing Markus’s cock, dragging all along the shaft, pulling on the upstroke. The flesh felt like fire against his palm, the skin velvety and soft, a stark contrast to the fuzzy balls beneath.

  It felt amazing to not be rushing, to not be wishing. Not to be worried that someone would catch them.

  Sebastian grinned, pushing at the soft skin around the head of Markus’s cock again. That moan made him happy.

  “Singing to me, Candy?” He let his thumb drag over the slit.

  “Anything if you keep doing that.” Those dark eyes were all pupil, Markus grunting and pushing.

  “Going to, until you shoot for me.” Playing games wasn’t his thing. Feeling was.

  “Oh God.” Markus’s eyes blazed at him a moment, and then those hands slid up to his shoulders, pushing him down. “Want your mouth again, baby. I’ve been dreaming about it for eight years. Once wasn’t enough.”

  “Never is.” He moaned and went, hands sliding to the strong thighs as he wrapped his lips around the tip.

  “Uhn.” That was pure incoherence, and Sebastian went looking for more of those sounds, getting them when he licked down the underside.

  Oh, hell yeah. He nibbled along the heavy vein, then left sucking kisses all around the ridged head.

  “Seb. Baby. I need.”

  When he glanced up, he could see how much Markus needed. The ripped belly was tight, muscles standing out. Those tiny nipples were hard points, and Markus was clenching his teeth, tendons in his neck in sharp relief. Sebastian moaned and dove down, taking Markus to the root, prick sliding in deep, into his throat.

  “Fuck!” Markus jerked, fucking his mouth hard for a few short seconds. Then the man went still, a long, indrawn breath Sebastian’s only warning that Markus was fixin’ to come. He reached down, rolled the heavy balls, hard enough that Markus would feel it, had to feel it, and swallowed.

  Markus came for him, just as he’d demanded, wet, hot seed sliding down his throat. The man smelled like heaven.

  He pushed his hand down, grabbed his own aching cock, and pulled hard. Markus made him need.

  “Seb. Baby. C’mere.” Markus yanked him up so hard he dangled for a moment, but then he landed on Markus’s lap, and that hot, callused hand closed around his prick.

  Seb arched, pushing up into that touch. Yeah. Yeah, just like that. Fuck him raw. Well, maybe Markus had already done that. He’d take the hand job and be all over it. He balanced himself on his hands, his tender ass bouncing off Markus’s thighs. He
flinched a little, and Markus laughed, the sound dark, sexual as hell.

  “Tender, baby?”

  “Fuck off.” It felt so frigging hot that he could scream with it.

  “Don’t make me beat you again. I might have to take after your thighs, and then where would you be?” Markus never let up on his cock, stroking from base to tip.

  “Burning. Fucking burning.” His teeth sank into his bottom lip, hard enough to hurt.

  “Kiss me, baby.” Markus nudged his chin up, lips opening his so that tongue could take him.

  He bounced up into the kiss, coming so hard he couldn’t fucking see for a second.

  Damn. Just—damn. Yes. This might just kill him, but it would be worth it.

  He slumped down, coming to rest against Markus’s chest. Those long arms came around him, holding him there, squeezing a little.

  “This cool?” Could he hang out here, rest, just for a minute?

  “Hell yes, baby. This is more than cool.”

  “’Kay.” He took a deep breath, humming under his breath, fingers playing on Markus’s belly.

  Markus hummed along with him, and he could feel Markus’s chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm.

  He didn’t question it, for once. He just let it go.

  Life was coming as soon as the buses started. This bit was his.

  Chapter Eleven

  “YOU GOT the notes I sent on that bridge on ‘Shining Through,’ right?” Markus asked, settling on his stool across from Kyle.

  “I did. I like it.” Kyle nodded, stretched. “You still having those crazed jam sessions in the middle of the night?”

  “Some nights, yeah. You know I like my sleep.” Not to mention that he had better access to the reason he’d been going to those jam sessions now.

  He was careful—damned careful—but he’d spent a couple of mornings working out, watching, fucking that tight, tiny little ass. Markus had to admit, he was happier than he’d been in years. He thought Seb was too, as happy as he could be. He’d actually seen the man eat—one sausage biscuit, half of a pancake, and a scoop of ice cream—and he’d held the beautiful son of a bitch while he slept three times.

  “Noticed you weren’t on your bus the other day when we had that layover.”

  Markus met Kyle’s eyes, refusing to look away, be ashamed. Kyle had been the third person he’d come out to.

  “Not that anyone else noticed but Bev.” Kyle grinned, keeping it light, which he was grateful for.

  Markus nodded. “Good. Good deal.”

  “Yeah? Rock on.” Kyle rolled his eyes a little. “My kid says that. It’s like a bad habit.”

  “How are the peeps, man? You haven’t said much.” Pulling out his notes, Markus grabbed a guitar.

  “Good. Good. Janie is a little pouty that we’re on the road again, you know. The kids are getting older.”

  “So are we.” Not that he felt old. Things were going good. Real good.

  “Yeah. I know.” Kyle looked at him. “No one can ride the top forever. You either slide easy or crash hard. I… I think that sliding easy was a good decision.”

  “You think so?” He’d always been the crashing kind until recently. “You’d be okay with that?”

  “Yeah, man. We’ve got a damned good life, you and me, and the music is always going to be there. Your buddy, though? He’s on the runaway train plan, and there’s hard-core hurt when he hits the wall. I hope you can slow it down.” The man was serious as a heart attack. “If not, you get out of the way, man. You worked too hard to get run over.”

  Markus gave that the thought it deserved before answering. “I’ll be careful. You know I’ll always take care of you and yours, right?”

  “I never doubted that.” Kyle grabbed his fiddle. “You considered doing ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia’ in the encore?”

  “That would be good, huh?” It really would. It wasn’t hard to sing, and it would show off Kyle’s talent.

  “It might be fun, huh? That little Kerry gal can join in. She misses playing her fiddle.” Kyle’s lips twitched. “If she can manage between bouts of morning sickness.”

  Markus stared. “Morning sickness? She’s pregnant?”

  “That’s what morning sickness means, Markus. I mean, I know you’re a fudge packer, but you did take basic biology in high school, right?”

  “Oh, fuck off.” Markus snorted. “I just meant I didn’t know she had a fuck buddy.”

  “You been otherwise occupied. She’s doing the rhythm guitar player. Lots of times in backstage during Seb’s acoustic break.”

  “How very Def Leppard of them.” Maybe that was showing his age, but damn. Markus shook his head. He’d done that once. With Sebastian. Back when they were opening for Wacey Carrol at the rodeo.

  “Yeah, well, we’re old.” Kyle’s shrug spoke volumes. “At least she’s not a screamer.”

  Oh God. Markus remembered, back when Hank was playing keyboards for them and he had that little redneck blonde under the setup and….

  Yeah.

  Whoa.

  “You remember that howler monkey girl, man?”

  “Shee-it. Has anyone forgotten that crazy chick? I think Hank still has scars on his dick from trying to shove it in and shut her ass up.”

  They shared a chuckle over that one before Markus sobered up. “Well, you holler if you think Kerry needs anything, huh? She doesn’t need to be putting her health at risk.”

  “Seb’s already talked to them both, pretty hard. Jonny’s got a ring for her. Gonna ask on stage in Detroit. His folks are going to be there.”

  How did Kyle know everything? Hell, how did Seb know? Markus guessed it was that not-sleeping thing. “Good on them.”

  Kyle nodded. “Okay, I’ll talk to Bruce about the song change. You talk to Seb. None of us need to run through it, I don’t think.”

  “Sounds good. You want to work on anything else?” Sometimes Kyle just liked to play.

  “Sure. ‘Fighting Monday’? ‘Counting the Days’?”

  “‘Fighting Monday’ sounds good.” He hit the opening chords, his foot already tapping.

  That fiddle started wailing, right on cue.

  Fuck, yes.

  He loved his job.

  “SEBASTIAN? HONEY? You okay?”

  Seb stood in his dressing room, heart slamming in his chest. It had been a tough week—Kerry had collapsed onstage in Columbus on Thursday, and she and Jonny were still in the hospital, making sure the baby was okay. Jack had sent up this new kid—Ricky something—to do rhythm, and it was all weird, just enough wrong that he couldn’t relax. Thank God for Kyle and his ability to jump in.

  Still.

  He was just not fitting in his fucking skin. Maybe he needed to find a hotel somewhere, hide for the next couple days before the Western states. Texas was going to be brutal, and that wasn’t including New Orleans, not that New Orleans was Western, because it wasn’t, but it wasn’t Deep South either, and they started in Nashville, and that was another part of the tour, right?

  “Sebastian?” Bev called him again, knocking lightly. “Don’t make me use my key.”

  “I’m fine. Fine. What do you need?” He sucked in a couple of breaths, trying to relax before he opened the door.

  “Well, first, I need you to eat your pineapple and your shake. I know you didn’t eat before the show.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  She had a plate with spears of pineapple right there, and he loved pineapple, but it just didn’t sound good.

  “You need something, Sebastian. What else would you like?” She was pleading with him, worry in her eyes.

  “I’m not hungry, honey. Just a shake, okay? Just a little one. And some Excedrin Migraine.”

  “Okay. Promise you’ll eat that shake.”

  “I promise, okay. I promise. Excedrin. Please.”

  “It’ll be here in a few minutes. Okay?” She touched his arm, and it was almost more than he could stand.

  “Okay.” He nodd
ed, shut the door, and then ran to the sink, scrubbing until it burned or until the fucking shake got there, whichever came first.

  He was taking his pills, damn it. Why weren’t they working?

  Chapter Twelve

  MARKUS RUBBED the back of his neck, wishing he had some damned headache powder. There must be something in the air, because no one was up to snuff.

  There was a weird sound, then a tap on his door. He knew it wasn’t Heath, because there would be the sound of bagpipes or something to preface his driver’s arrival. That Scot had no shame.

  When he opened the door, Bev stood there.

  “Hey, honey.”

  She stared up at him with a near-hysterical expression that seemed completely foreign in her normally so-put-together face. “Mr. Kane, I’m sorry, but… I need your help, please.”

  “Anything you need.” He was exhausted, but she looked so damned worried, heading into scared.

  “He won’t eat anything. He threw his shake up. He hasn’t slept in two days. He’s washing everything. Whatever you did before, when he slept, please. Do it again.”

  “What?” He pulled her up into the bus, just in case someone was listening out there. “Seb?”

  “Yeah. He doesn’t like the new rhythm guy, he’s worried about the kids, it rained. You know.”

  He’d never even thought on how all that would ping Seb’s OCD tendencies. He’d been dragging ass and dealing with a hysterically pooped Kyle, who was playing two shows a night and two encores now….

  “Okay. Get me a piece of pineapple upside-down cake and a carrot cake from Syd’s Bakery on Farmer Avenue.” She’d be cutting it close. They closed at 1:00 a.m. to make the doughnuts for the next day, but they were the best bakery in Nowhere, Kansas. “I’ll go see Seb.”

  “Thank you.” She hugged him, the act impulsive but so sweet.

  Markus kissed the top of her head. “Thanks for having his back, honey.”

  “Always. No matter what. He’s my best friend, even if no one sees it. You too, huh? I promise I got yours as well.”