Page 114 of Naughty Dreams
“Oh…”
“I want to do this harder, faster. Take you completely. But I also want to do it the way you said. Quiet. Deep. Not ripple the still waters.”
“Well…anytime you want to clone yourself…but I only have the one ass…”
Roy set his teeth to his nape for the first taste, a sharp nip. DJ quivered. “You also have a perfectly good mouth. Maybe I go still and deep here, while the other me fucks your mouth like a demon, gripping your hair tight as I shove myself all the way down your throat. That way, when both of me come, I know every bit of me gets inside.
A convulsive buck of his hips. “Roy…Sir…”
“Be quiet, Dory.” A gentle yet menacing command. “Quiet and still. A lot of volatile things can happen in still waters.”
Roy was a light enough sleeper to know when DJ left the bed. But he only cracked his eyelids, because there were moments a man needed to be alone with his grief. Roy watched him, though, ready in case that changed.
This room had a small couch near the curtained window. DJ sat down there and stared out the crack. Earlier, he’d put his notebook on the coffee table, a pen lying upon it, but he hadn’t touched it since. He didn’t do so now, either.
In time, he scooted around so he could lie on his side and draw his knees up, making himself as small as he could be. It was a disturbingly childlike pose for such a tall man. He remained silent, except for one sobbing breath. Roy stayed where he was, but he stayed awake. Only when DJ’s breath evened out did he rise.
He spread an extra blanket over DJ before he sat down in the chair next to the couch, a silent sentinel.
What happened when someone mattered so much that the end of their time together brought debilitating levels of emotional pain? How could a person not mire himself in memories, the only way to hold onto those missing people?
He was considering Dory’s situation, his besieged heart and soul, but the thought couldn’t help but point toward the two of them as well.
Being someone’s bodyguard when they were under an active threat was an intense but time-limited experience. Always. Navel gazing was a distorted form of narcissism Roy had no patience for. It didn’t serve a purpose.
Roy would serve a purpose, always.
But getting DJ back on his feet hadn’t been Roy’s purpose, his job. He’d taken it on because…
Because he was in love with the kid.
Whether it was forever love, or spawned by the dangerous circumstances and intimate proximity they created, didn’t matter. The feeling was real. You could love someone and not be the right person for them. Or love them for the time you were given and not fuck it up by counting on more. There were more important priorities than his feelings.
So that was that.
Eventually, he slept, with one foot propped on the end of the couch below Dory’s shoulder. A change woke him early in the morning, and he saw DJ had moved his hand and was resting it on Roy’s foot, holding onto him as he slept.
He didn’t remember when he drifted off again, but when he woke, it was morning. DJ was on his feet, stretching in that appealing way he had, his morning erection pressing against his pajama bottoms as he arched back, then shook like a dog getting up from a nap.
On stage, he was one of Lucifer’s dark-eyed demons. In the morning, he was a sleepy angel with rumpled feathers and crooked halo. He glanced at Roy in his chair.
“That doesn’t look like a comfortable way to sleep.”
“Who says I was sleeping? I never sleep.”
DJ’s lips curved. “Can you come help me with something in the bathroom?”
“Before coffee?”
DJ’s eyes did an echo of their usual sparkle. “Aha. You do have a weakness. Morning coffee.”
And an appealing, skinny kid with a smart mouth.
Since DJ seemed determined about whatever it was that he needed, Roy followed him to the bathroom. DJ reached into Roy’s open toiletry bag and pulled out the electric clippers.
“You do your own hair,” DJ noted.
“I do.” Roy shrugged. “Easy enough to use the clippers to keep it trimmed, and one of Warren’s women taught me how to scissor cut the parts that need it. His weakness is hairdressers.”
