Page 73 of Sycopation
Those whiskey-gold eyes looked up at him. “You taking care of me.”
Words as warm as Ray’s gaze, and they cascaded through Zavier, heating him in a way sex never did. This was joy—taking care of Ray, easing his burdens.
He leaned over and kissed Ray on the forehead. “It was my pleasure.”
Ray closed his eyes and murmured something Zavier didn’t catch—then fell asleep. He turned off the light in the bunk and carefully pulled the curtain the rest of the way shut.
A pleasure indeed, and an honor. He truly enjoyed Ray’s company and his friendship. Mish and Dom were good people, too, but Ray—he understood Ray. The drive and passion, and even the fear, too.
He hummed a few quiet bars from “White Hot Midnight,” found his own sweatpants to put on, and headed back into the lounge.
Cleaning up was easy. He wiped himself and the leather cushion, and shoved his clothes away, along with the tape, the condoms, and the lube. Ray’s things he folded and left on the couch in the lounge. Wouldn’t be out of place, since Ray had a habit of forgetting to pick up bits of his clothing.
But rather than crawl into his berth, he grabbed his tablet and settled into the seating area up front. The bus would be stopping soon. Plus, he was still high from Ray and his moans and cries—that on top of the warmth of pouring a happy Ray into bed.
His mailbox was hell—why the hell had he signed up for so many mailing lists? He needed another account just for spam and ten-percent-off coupons. He kept deleting mail until he reached a familiar name.
Nadia. Zavier hovered his finger over the message box. The preview read:Darling, be careful.There was an attachment.
His good humor fled and apprehension took up its nest. No choice, really. He tapped the screen.
A photo, dark and a little grainy, but unmistakably him and Ray, on the path between the venue and the buses. Taken with a telephoto, if he had to guess—because no one had been that close to them.
They weren’t touching, but that didn’t matter, since both of their expressions were clear. Two men, either about to fight or fuck.
Shit. He didn’t hide his sexuality, never had. Neither had Ray. But the press washorribleabout queer men who were having enjoyable sex lives—and this was exactly the kind of stress Ray didn’t need. Especially not after tonight. Especially not with Carl breathing down his neck.
Zavier turned off the tablet. There was nothing he could do. Tomorrow, he’d see what the damage online was, then talk to Ray.
Tonight, he’d keep enjoying the time he’d spend giving Ray exactly what he’d needed.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
The murmurof conversation over the rumble of the bus woke Ray. He was sore in a way he hadn’t been in so long, and that was damn good. Zavier had fucked him. Spankedandfucked him. Made him cry with pain, pleasure, and understanding, then taken him out of this world.
Wasn’t love—Zavier had been pretty darn clear about that—but it was something strong. Friendship. Caring. Ray trusted Zavier, and Zavier liked him. Behind the weight of that utter truth, all the shit Carl had said slid into the background.
“You should show him.” Dom’s voice.
“I will.” Zavier did one of his bitter chuckle things. “I didn’t realize what the pictures of us onstage looked like to everyone.”
Mish snorted. “Oh, hon. For how observant you are, you have a huge fucking blind spot, don’t you?”
“You’re not the first to say that.”
The coffee machine gurgled. Oh, thank god. Ray flipped over onto his back and every nerve fired at once. “Ow, fuck!” He clamped a hand over his mouth, but the damage was done. They knew he was awake now.
Mish was laughing. By the time Ray crawled out of his bunk and flopped into his usual spot on the couch—wincing as he did—Dom was blushing, probably because he’d seen Ray too many times the morning after a good round of sex. Plus Zavier had thatsmirk.
“So youdidfuck last night.” Dom looked right at Ray, but reading his expression was impossible, because it looked a little like relief and that couldn’t be right.
Zavier held up the carafe. “Coffee, Ray?”
“Please.” He cleared his throat and met Dom’s gaze. “Yeah. We fucked last night.”
“Took you long enough.” Dom looked longingly at the coffeepot.
