Page 67 of Naughty Dreams
Back at the hotel, the trip in the freight elevator was silent. DJ leaned against the back wall while Roy took his usual position in front and removed his gun from its holster. The first time he’d done it, he’d told DJ why.
The elevator is a vulnerable point. If someone knows where your room is, they’ll be waiting when the door opens. I wouldn’t have time to draw. I prefer stairs, but some of my clients don’t like walking up thirty flights to the penthouse.
“Crazy, right?”had been DJ’s dry comment, but right now the recollection couldn’t bring him a smile. Once the elevatoropened, the gun was holstered, and they headed to DJ’s suite. Jim and Carl were there, watching the hallway.
Once in the suite, DJ went into his room and closed the door. He took off his Rush 1980s Tour T-shirt, washed his face in the bathroom sink, and ran cold water over his neck. Then he sat cross-legged on the bed and stared at the mirror. He was seeing himself as a kid, seeing Steve and Pete and Tal.
He hadn’t listened for the click that said Roy had left the suite to take over one of the spots and send Jim or Carl to another hotel post. DJ didn’t want to know he was more alone than he felt.
He thought of one of Leann’s questions.What do you think is one of the most noticeable differences in an adult who’s been a foster kid? For the four of you in particular?
His answer?“We’re like soldiers in trench warfare. That feeling that you only have each other. You don’t turn on one another, don’t push each other away.”
Don’t hurt one another.
He was fucking with his own head. He needed to go to the studio, do what his gut told him to do. But he was restless, tired and heartsick.
Fuck, had he done the right thing?
A rap of knuckles on his door, then it opened.
“My shift just ended,” Roy said. “G’s people are handling the door.”
“Oh…yeah.” DJ hadn’t had a clue what time it was.
When he straightened, he noted how Roy’s gaze followed the movement of his shoulders, and covered the slope of his chest. “It’s not just a stage thing. You don’t like wearing a shirt,” his bodyguard noted.
“Not unless it’s cold. Is that…okay?”
“Yes. Thank you for asking, Dory.”
Roy paused, letting the use of the nickname, what it was coming to mean between them, sink in. He waited to see how DJ would react. If he wanted what might be being offered. If he needed it.
Yes. And yes.
“Get off the bed and take the rest off, then kneel on the floor,” Roy said in a low rumble. “You’ll stay quiet and listen, until I tell you that you can talk.”
DJ had never realized his dick could get hard in half a nanosecond even when his head and heart were messed up. But Roy issued a command, a deliberate, sexy command, and he had to be careful getting off the bed, because his jeans no longer fit so loose.
He unzipped them and pushed them off with his underwear. No shoes or socks, so in that one movement, he stood before Roy without anything on. Roy’s eyes covered every inch.
“Are you forgetting what I told you to do, Dory?”
“Oh, shit. Sorry.” DJ dropped to his knees on a towel Roy had spread out there, sitting his bare ass on his heels. He couldn’t breathe, and the lack of oxygen felt good.
Roy waited so long to do anything else that, when he finally moved, DJ reacted with a jolt, as if the vibration of Roy’s tread had sent a shock through him.
“Lean forward, like when you’re writing in your notebook.”
When DJ complied, Roy’s fingertips slid over the curve of his spine, zigzagging between the vertebrae. His skin tingled, his testicles contracting against the floor, hard cock brushing his belly.
“You were writing in your notebook the first time I saw you,” Roy said conversationally. “I wanted to do just this, see you get all still, the way you are now.
When he reached the dip between DJ’s buttocks, he stroked that valley before drawing a crescent over the top of one buttock,then the other. DJ felt a hint of nails. His other hand applied pressure to DJ’s nape, rocking him forward so Roy could slide his hand right under him. It was done so smoothly, with such strength, the stillness inside expanded, silencing all the other voices.
On the outside, it might be his balls that Roy held, but inside, DJ felt like his soul was curled up in the palm of Roy’s sure hand.
“I talked to you about praise before. When you follow my commands, do you want me to tell you that I’m proud of you?” Roy leaned forward, whispered. “Tell you that you’re a good boy, a good man?”
