Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

NATE

T hree years ago, I was singing in dive bars, and busking on Bourbon Street. Tonight, with my band brothers, I opened a concert for Wayward Lane, one of the hottest rock bands in the world.

To say I was excited as fuck was an understatement.

Me and my friends had busted our asses, and we'd finally arrived. And partying in my hometown after a show was almost as fun as being on stage. Now all I needed was a hot man to end the night right.

One particular man, that is.

Just before the start of the show, my mic failed. Thankfully, Wayward Lane's lead roadie, Tommy, appeared to help me. My eyes hadn't been able to look anywhere else. In threadbare jeans and a tight T-shirt, Tommy had intricate tattoos decorating his neck and arms. Not that he needed decoration because fuck, his body was a work of art. No wonder, given all the physical work he did. The man moved around the stage with a speed and grace that was its own kind of music. Brodie had said something snarky about the power going out, and Tommy let out a loud laugh, the husky sound echoing above the din. I liked that too. And when Tommy grinned, showcasing two irresistible dimples, I was suddenly dying to taste them.

So, when I spotted the sexy roadie entering the club a few minutes ago, I didn't waste a second.

And the closer I got to the hot as hell man, the harder it was for me to breathe.

When I finally stood behind him, I could barely speak, a strange lump in my throat. But when he turned around, the hungry look in his dark eyes told me I wasn't the only one feeling needy and reckless.

Thank fuck.

He downed his shot and watching him swallow was such a turn-on. And I liked that he hadn't shaved. I was a fan of rough scruff. It always heightened my pleasure.

Without saying a word, he put his empty glass down and headed for the center of the room, the packed dance floor. I downed my shot, and wasted no time following him, his cocky swagger and tight ass teasing me.

We got to the center of the room, surrounded by sweaty, writhing bodies. He turned to me, and the electric pulse that flashed between us burned hotter. I slid one finger in his belt loop and tugged him close, and the wicked grin on his face told me everything I needed to know.

And fucking hell, those dimples of his were sinful. Did he have a matching set on his ass?

I couldn't wait to find out.

I hardly noticed the people around us or the booming music. Tommy gripped my neck hard and pulled me in tight, our foreheads bumping. We shared the same breath—tequila, sweet and spicy. I slid both hands around his waist, then lower, feeling his taut muscles quiver, until I reached the swells of his ass. We grinded up against each other, his hard cock brushing mine. Running my nose along his stubbled jaw, I took a long inhale, loving the fact that he didn't wear cologne. I gave his skin an experimental lick and moaned loudly as his heady taste hit my tongue. Then I buried my face in the crook of his neck, frustrated by far too many clothes between us.

"My hotel," Tommy groaned, his breath teasing my ear.

"Yes."

When he reached for my hand and tugged, his calloused grip on mine, I nearly moaned out loud. There was something about the way he took charge that had my lust sparking like wildfire. And after a marathon music set, the pressure of our first major gig, I was ready for a hard dicking down.

We got as far as the exit and then I remembered Otis, Heath, and Xander, my bandmates. We never left each other when we were out at night without checking in.

"Hold on." I squeezed Tommy's hand and reluctantly let it go.

Then I reached into my pocket for my phone.

"It's okay if you changed?—"

"I haven't changed my mind," I explained. "I'm just letting my bandmates know I'm out for the night."

Tommy nodded, pulling out his phone in turn, and tapping it.

I sent out a quick group text to my boys and shoved the phone back in my pocket.

"Rideshare on the way," Tommy declared as he moved in close to grab my waist. Leaning in, his lips brushed mine. "Get your sexy ass moving."

"You're demanding," I chuckled.

"Just wait until you're in my bed. Fair warning."

"Mmm, I like the sound of that," I growled against his lips. "Want you to fuck me."

"It would be my absolute pleasure."

Tommy's hands moved lower, squeezing my ass cheeks, and a shiver wracked my body. But the moment was interrupted by his phone buzzing, and he quickly slid one strong arm around my waist and guided me out of the club. He held the door open with the other and did the same when our car appeared. The whole time, he didn't let go of me. And oddly enough, I had no problem leaning into his embrace. A lot of guys weren't down for touching unless it was directly about sex. But I liked the way Tommy held me, almost protective. Shit, I liked it way too much.

But then, I realized that maybe he was touchy-feely like that with everyone.

Whatever. It didn't mean anything. Not for one night.

Maybe it was the fact that it had been a while. I hooked up with a lot of musicians and crew, but not for the past month. I was too busy with shows and demos and trying to get a hold of our so-called agent to land us a record deal. Sex took a back seat.

I know, what the fuck? And I call myself a rockstar?

For once, this twenty-four-year-old had to ease up on les bon temps and focus on work. And it was paying off. Look where we were. This New Orleans boy was about to make it big. All my rock ‘n' roll dreams were taking flight.

And what better way to celebrate than a night of pure pleasure?

But the rideshare to Tommy's hotel felt like ten hours, never mind ten minutes. With his left thigh touching my right, and his big hand gripping my knee, I was all but vibrating. He didn't make to kiss me, though, and my mouth was dying for a taste.

Unable to stop myself, I turned my head towards him and gave his neck a teasing lick. His hand moved up my thigh, squeezing and rubbing. Despite my leather pants, the heat of his palm branded me, like there was nothing between us. When he finally cupped my hard cock, the groan I let out was fucking loud.

Next thing I knew, the car stopped.

Had we arrived at our destination or was the driver kicking us out? It'd happened to me before. As open and accepting as NOLA was, there were still homophobes.

"This is our stop, cher ," Tommy whispered to me.

"Don't tell me you speak French, too?" I teased.

He shook his head, stepped out of the car, and held his hand out to me. I couldn't remember the last time any guy did that. But then again, I didn't date. I fucked.

This isn't a date , I reminded myself. Jesus, it's just sex.

Still, his gesture had my already pounding heart thrumming at a frenzied rhythm. My stomach dropped, like I'd stepped onto a rocking boat in the middle of the bayou.

A sexy man with old-fashioned manners should have sent me running right back to the club. Instead, I took Tommy's offered hand.

We stepped up to the hotel entrance and his arm wrapped around my waist again, guiding me inside. Swear to Christ, I was sweating like I was on stage, and we hadn't even fucked yet. What the hell was the matter with me?

"Before I completely lose my head, I get tested every three months at work, and the last time was two weeks ago," he whispered. "I'm negative."

"Me too. A month ago. No one since."

He raised one eyebrow, like he didn't believe me.

"I've been busy with work."

"Said no rockstar, ever," he quipped and gave me that adorable grin.

We made it into the elevator, not another word said between us.

Until Tommy pushed the button for the ninth floor and then pushed me against the wall.

"Fuck, yes," I groaned, just before his lips claimed mine.

He cupped my face and devoured me, and fuck did this man know how to kiss.

Yes. I needed this. I didn't know how much until it finally happened.

Tommy delved those powerful hands of his into my hair, pulling me in closer, kissing me so deep and long I was lightheaded. I snaked my tongue around his, teasing him, enjoying the dirty moan that he couldn't contain. And the scrape of his scruff over my lips that was the best kind of burn.

I was barely aware of the doors opening and there he went again, squeezing my waist and guiding me down the hallway. His room was the last door at the end.

I turned to him, face to face, sliding my hands over his back and lower, until I cupped his ass. Fuck, I needed to touch him. Tommy struggled to get his card key out of his pocket.

"Nate," he growled out a warning.

Like that was gonna stop me.

"Let me," I offered and snuck my hand into his front pocket.

I found the card easily enough but ignored it. Instead, I slid my other hand down the front of his jeans, under his briefs, and cupped his dick. The heavy weight of it, hot and hard in my hand, had me dropping to my knees, right there in the fucking hallway.

"In…side," he panted, but it was too late. I was already unzipping his jeans.

"Can't fucking wait," I moaned as I pulled out his long cock, leaning forward to slide my tongue around the head.

That first taste of precum was musky, heady, and I swallowed, taking his cock down my throat as far as I could. He was big, though, and I gagged, tears forming in my eyes. But I didn't let that stop me. I wanted to see just how badly I could wreck his control.

Then I'd be ready for him to do the same to me.

Tommy's back hit the wall with a resounding thump, nearby pictures rattling. Anyone could walk out and see us, and fuck, that got my blood racing hotter, faster. Were there cameras up here, too? If so, security was in for quite the show.

"Your mouth," Tommy groaned as he fisted my hair tight. "So…fucking… talented."

I wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and used my saliva for an easy glide back and forth as I licked and sucked, then swallowed him down again. Over and over, deeper, until my nose hit his trimmed pubes and my throat ached.

I probably wouldn't be able to speak tomorrow, never mind sing, but I was too far gone to care. And judging by Tommy's rigid thighs and desperate moans, he was right there with me.

I snuck one hand up to cup his balls, while the other tormented his dick with firm strokes. Between my hands and my mouth, I never let up. My knees burned, my thighs quaked, and saliva slid out of the sides of my mouth and down my chin. I could only imagine the depraved look on my face and wished that there was a mirror nearby so I could watch the two of us together.

Glancing up, I caught Tommy's gaze. He was staring down at me so intently that I began to shake. I sucked harder and swallowed him down again.

"Just like that. Oh God, oh fuck," he panted and threw his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, his neck muscles rigid. Jesus, he was sexy. I couldn't wait to leave love bites all over his neck. And there'd be plenty of time for that later.

Right now, I wanted to watch him come apart and know that I was the reason. Giving head was a powerful rush, second only to being on stage.

And I had a reputation to live up to.

This rockstar was gonna ruin this roadie.