Page 46 of Bulletproof
“Believe it.” Brandon pulled Cam back to his side with a possessive tug. “When he came to his first afterparty, he saw things that I had noidea were going on. That’s why I moved out of the suite.”
“Well, you’re back now.” Derek raised his hand for a high five, and Brandon slapped it. “Right where you belong.”
The limo pulled in front of the Crown Plaza to a massive crowd. Lucky recipients of VIP passes, stationed behindbarricades, screamed as if they were at a live concert. Journalists and cameras from prominent television entertainment networks stood ready to greet Bulletproof on the red carpet.
“This is amazing!” Cam exclaimed. He took Brandon’s face in his hands and gazed at his lover. “I’m so proud of you. Another platinum album. How did I get so lucky to score an international rock star?”
Brandon was humbled. “How did I get so lucky to score a hotshot corporate executive from New York?”
“A vacation in Rio. Remember?” Derek reminded them. “Or were you two too busy fucking to know where you were?”
They ignored him and gravitated together for a hard kiss that was so fucking erotic Derek needed to look away.
Someone opened the door,and naturally, Brandon exited the limo first. Turning in a semi-circle and waving like the queen, he absorbed the attention. He craved the spotlight, destined to live in the limelight. The fans behind the barricade screamed back at him. His eyes lit up as bright as the flashes around him when a microphone was thrust into his face.
“How does it feel to get another platinum album?”the journalist asked.
“It feels fan-fucking-tastick!” Brandon leaned into the open limo door and offered his hand to Cam.
The journalist eyed Cam up and down. “Who are you wearing, Mr. Douglas?”
Cam ran his hand down the front of his jacket. “Suit by Jessi Blade. Shirt and tie by Tom Ford.”
“I’m very impressed. You look fabulous.”
Brandon stuck his face in front of the microphone. “I’m wearing jeans by Diesel. Tennis shoes by Converse.”
The journalist laughed way too hard. “You’re such a character, Brandon!”
Jeremy and Alan exited next, hand in hand. They were still gaga over one another and hung onto the reigning title of America’s number one rock star couple. Every time Derek clicked on a musictalk show or picked up a music mag, a picture of those two gazing at one another like a pair of lovesick teenagers stared back at him.
One after the other, cell phones clicked photos as Jeremy and Alan made their way down the red carpet, passing Brandon and Cam who were still at the barricade. Derek let out a short laugh. By the time the band’s lead singer finished signing autographs,the ceremony would probably be over.
Derek sprang from the limo and landed on the red carpet with his combat boots spread shoulder-width apart. His long black hair blew in the wind, while a breeze blew up his kilt and cooled off his junk. He leaned his head back and shot rock and roll horns up to the sky. “Woo hoo! Hello, fucking Seattle!”
The fans cheered back loudly.A journalist, a different one than the one following Brandon around with a camera, asked Derek the same question. “How does it feel to receive a platinum album for the newly-released Full Metal Jacket?” These journalists really needed to beef up the originality of their questions, but at least this one plugged the name of the album.
Derek contemplated his answer. There weren’t wordsto express the gratitude and pride in his heart. The love and support that Bulletproof received from the fans from the start of this incredible journey lifted him higher than the moon. The real reward was that people loved Bulletproof’s music as much as Bulletproof did. To a musician, the melodies and lyrics they composed weren’t just music. It was the birth of a creation. Each song was anotherbaby. “It feels fucking awesome. There’s nothing like receiving your first platinum album, but standing up here and getting a fourth makes it feel like day one all over again. Even more exciting for me tonight is handing Reckless their first gold record.” And that was the fucking truth. Travis had talent and charisma. He deserved the fame and glory, without the worry and stress that ate him up.
The journalist raised her brows with inquiry. “Reckless? Or Travis Fontana? I hear the two of you are a couple. Would you like to elaborate on your relationship with Mr. Fontana?”
Derek gave her a shit-eating grin. “I’m not sure how much I can say about it that wouldn’t get censored.”
“So it’s true? You’re a couple?”
“We’re together.” He wantedit clear to the world that Travis was his man. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got someone waiting for me inside.”
Impatient to see Travis, Derek ran down the red carpet waving to the fans and slapping hands on the way. He wanted to see his lover. Hold the guy. Congratulate the guy.
The place was mobbed with suits, tuxedos, and cocktail dresses. Waiters carrying trays of champagneand fancy-looking h’ordeuvres made it look like an A-list Hollywood party. After 25 minutes of making unavoidable small talk with music industry types, Derek finally found Travis. Thank God for those platinum blonde highlights peeking above the crowd.
He weaved through a sea of people, dismissing one or two who tried to strike up a conversation. Nothing was going to interrupt himfrom making his way over to Travis now that he was within sight. An opening in the crowd cleared, exposing Travis in full sight, and Derek’s stomach turned queasy. He stopped dead and watched Travis with Ashley, talking closely off to the side by themselves. Derek approached cautiously, unsure of whether or not he should intrude.
Travis slowly turned toward Derek, and his eyes litup as soon as they landed on Derek’s.
The electricity that passed between them could be felt from across the room, and Derek’s heart did a little happy dance. He picked up his pace, wrapped his arms around Travis and kissed him squarely on the lips. Their tongues twirled in a lust-filled greeting. The usual softness and slow burn of Travis’ lips ignited a fire inside Derek. He wantedmore, so much fucking more from this man. The gentle little swipes of Travis’ tongue were filled with so much passion there was no need for an exaggerated mouthy kiss. The understated slowness of his kiss conveyed how much he cared, and Derek’s body responded. When he pulled back, they gazed at one another and slowly smiled.
“Congratulations on your first gold record.”
