Page 34 of Bulletproof
“Oh, fuck!” Jeremy exclaimed, walking upto Travis to take a closer look at his swollen eye. “You got jacked up!”
Travis flashed a toothy smile. “I got one good shot in. Busted my bass player’s nose.”
“Right on!” Jeremy held his palm up for a high five and Travis slapped it with his good hand.
Brandon offered a beer. “You look like you could use a cold one, unless you want something stronger.”
“Don’t give him that,” Cam warned. “He’s probably on medication.”
“One beer won’t kill him.” Brandon slapped Travis on the back with his big meaty paw. “Just one, though.”
Alan had a goofy smile on his face and his laptop in his hand. “This is so fucking rad. Look at the way you came out on stage, dripping blood down your chin and on your shirt.” He turnedthe laptop around so Travis could watch a clip that someone uploaded of the opening moments of the show.
Everyone gathered around and watched the video over Travis’ shoulder, patting him on the back and cheering when he spit blood on the floor of the stage. The raw brutality of it made the performance uniquely nefarious. He looked fucking badass. “That was fucking awesome.” The smileon his face made the split in his lip throb, but he didn’t care. Tonight, words and fists collided, but it cleared some of the boiling tension in his band. He may be bruised and sore, but his self-esteem was at an all-time high. He stuck up for himself and proved he deserved to be the frontman of Reckless, earning the respect of his big-mouthed bass player.
As he stood at the kitchenisland, next to his lover and surrounded by the members of Bulletproof, he realized that he had penetrated this group of lifelong friends, and the feeling of acceptance engulfed him.
The clip ended and the guys continued to chide him with good-natured laughter and more pats on the back. A strong hand gently massaged the back of his neck and Derek’s green eyes stared at him with concern,even though there was still a hint of a smile on the man’s gorgeous lips.
“Do you need ice on that eye?”
“Nah. I’m alright. His head gave me this shiner. Not his fist.”
“Is his head a rubber mallet?”
While Derek inspected the eye, Travis stole a kiss, just a small, lingering peck that brought softness and pleasure to the painful bruise on hisjaw.
“Does it hurt?” Derek asked softly.
“No. It feels good to kiss you.”
This time Derek initiated the kiss, careful not to be too aggressive, but offering the right amount of pressure to light up Travis’ nerve endings. He deepened the kiss, pushing the tip of his tongue forward. Derek caught it with a soft swirl, while Travis slowly pulled their bodiestogether.
“Take it in the bedroom, you two,” Jeremy said, smiling like a teenager. “People eat in here.”
Derek smiled against Travis’ lips, and then chuckled. “Shut the fuck up, Kagan.” Then he resumed the soft kiss.
“Are you hungry?” Cam asked. “I was just about to barbecue on the balcony.”
Travis’ stomach rumbled, and he broke the kiss. “Youhave a barbecue?”
“Uh-huh.” Cam nodded. “Apparently, when your boyfriend is the lead singer of a famous rock band, you can ask for insane things in your hotel suite.”
“Like ginormous speakers?” Travis glanced at Derek, whileBullet With A Nameby Nonpoint blared through the suite and reverberated in his chest. “How fucking loud is that system?”
“Not loudenough!” Derek roared.
Travis smiled with affection at his exuberant lover. “And people say I’m a psychopath.” A platter with fresh hamburgers on their way to the grill captured Travis’ attention. “Need any help with that? And by help, I mean eating it.”
“Give me about 12 minutes,” Cam replied.
Travis stepped onto the balcony in awe. “This is so cool.” Itwas homey and inviting. A round table offered enough room for all of them to sit comfortably and gaze at the city lights in the distance. The expansive balcony ran the length of the suite, with another set of sliders that probably led into one of the bedrooms. Arguing at the barbecue interrupted his thoughts. He quickly realized that the posturing and hard stares going on between Brandon and Camwasn’t arguing at all. It was an erotic display of dominance.
“I’m the grill master.” Brandon narrowed his intense blue eyes and puffed out his muscular chest. Cam straightened his back and met Brandon’s stare head on. Standing almost the same height, they were head to head like two stallions challenging one another.
“Give me back that spatula,” Cam demanded.
The corners of Brandon’s mouth curled. “Make me.”
