Page 20 of Strike A Chord

“Sweetheart, I'd expect nothing less from you, but please try to keep the fuck ups on the right side of the law.” Too many stories have been written about the bullshit bands got into, some even resulted in death, and I couldn’t imagine this world without the beautiful man who stood before me.

“I’ll do my best. This next step in my career is far too important. You,” Josh paused, “you’re too important.”

Most firsts are usually hurry and get it done, but not with Josh. As we lay back, I wanted to savor every moment, outline each tattoo, and commit them to memory. He was of the same mindset as he too took his time touching me, exploring. Dotting each freckle and tracing old childhood scars. Memorizing the planes of each other’s body was erotic as hell. Memories I’d reflect upon while we’re apart. The rough feel of his calloused fingers from years of playing guitar as he stroked me only added to the moment.

“Josh, have you ever bottomed?” He paled, the terror on his face had me retracting the request. “Please, don’t answer that.”

When he found his words, the response had me seeing red. “Once, and not by choice.”

“Fucking hell, babe,” I tugged him against me, not to baby him but because I had to hold him. “If time travel were real, I’d go back and make sure karma fucked up all the assholes you’ve had in your life.”

“You’d have one long ass list to work through.”

“I’ll be right back.” I’d left my bag by the front door, which had the lube and condoms in it. I set it beside Josh’s dresser, snagged both items and tossed them on the bed before I crawled up and hovered over Josh as I prepped myself.

“Next time, I wanna do that.”

I leaned over and kissed him. “You got it.” Although it had been a while for me, it didn’t take much to prep me. Josh’s eyes rolled back, and he hissed as I rolled the condom down his cock. Clearly in the same state of arousal and near slipping over the edge point that I was. As I slid down his length, the familiar burn of the stretch reminded me of just how long it had been. Possibly longer than I’d remembered, so I slowed down. Josh’s grip on my hips held me in place as he waited for me to catch my breath.

“You all right?”

“Yeah-yeah, just give me a minute.” How much lube was too much? I wasn’t sure there could ever be enough, but it was too late to back down now. Well, not really, but I knew the good part was coming and the stretch would be more than worth it.

“Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined,” Josh ground out through gritted teeth as my ass met his groin. “I hope I don’t embarrass myself.”

“I’ll be right there with you.” That was an understatement. With Josh stroking me as I angled my hips just right, he hit my prostate, and I nearly came. “Right. Fucking. There.” Josh firmly held my hips and repeatedly thrust up, nailing it each time. Dominoes was the best way to describe it as the walls came tumbling down. With a final press, over the edge I went and the muscle contractions triggered Josh as we both came.

Chapter Nine

Josh

“Stop!” I screamed even though I knew he’d only hit me harder because I did.

“Shut up, boy, if the cops show up again, I’ll bury your body where they’ll never find it.” He snarled. The stench of stale cigarettes and rum assaulted my senses. He was drunk again, or still drunk from the night before. I wasn’t sure there was a time he wasn’t anymore.

I hated my father. How could my mother die and leave me with him? One day I’d run away and never come back. His arms squeezed tighter, I fought with everything in me to get away. Dealing with another broken bone would suck. I knew it was the nurse at the hospital who called the cops the last time. I never should’ve gone there but I kept passing out from the pain and didn’t know what else to do.

“I hate you!” My arm slipped free, my fist connected with his chin, and he stumbled back. Before his boot stomped on my head I scrambled up, busted out the window screen and ran down the alleyway.

That’s when I woke, drenched in sweat and my eyes landed on a figure standing in the corner of the room. I scrambled up and fell to the floor, my legs were trapped in the sheets that wound around them.

Hands held up in surrender, he came into the moonlight that streamed through the holy, old ass curtains. “Josh, it’s me, Reagan. Are you okay?”

“What the fuck do you think?” I stormed from the room and grabbed the bottle of whisky off the counter and chugged it as I plopped down on the couch. Ironic considering that nightmare was about one of many of my father’s drunken beatings I received. I stared at the bottle, hating him, hating myself, and yet I still took another swig. “Apple didn’t fall far from the tree, huh? Once a loser, always a loser.”

Reagan knelt in front of me, took the bottle and sat it on the coffee table. “You’re not a loser, you’re a victim.”

“I’m not playing that card.”

“You’re not being asked to. Being a victim doesn’t mean you’re a helpless damsel in distress. PTSD is no laughing matter.” Hearing that acronym aloud was like a punch to the gut. I knew what it was, knew I had it but refused to admit to it. Stupid, I know but that’s how I rolled. Reagan took my hands in his. Having that connection soothed the beast raging inside me. But how long would he stay after this? Who’d want to sign on with a broken person like me? “Josh,” Reagan sat beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and I fucking lost it. It was like, once the tears started, they wouldn’t stop. Years, hell, decades’ worth I’d suppressed barreled forth like a broken dam. Broken dam for a broken man.

“Wipe that look off your face, Josh. I’m not going anywhere. You know me. Maybe not so much as a boyfriend, yet, but as a man. We’ve known each other for years and you know I’m not easily swayed, especially when my heart’s involved.”

Heart’s involved? What does? Does that? Do not go there, Josh, no one’s ever loved you nor will they. Stupid hopeful heart.

Reagan kissed the top of my head and smiled. “Careful now or you’ll have steam coming out of your ears from all the overthinking you’re doing.”

“But you said?” I didn’t dare repeat it. I didn’t want to be the idiot who misunderstood.

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