Slow Ride: Powertools: Hot Rides, Book #2
Page 22
And Jordan…
Jordan did the same to Kason. It made him come twice as hard when sticky heat flooded his ass while Jordan’s cock tapped his prostate over and over.
It was by far the best and most powerful orgasm of his life.
He might have even blacked out for a moment, high on their love, because when he came to, Wren was draped over him, his cock still buried inside her, and Jordan had collapsed by his side. He roused to Jordan dusting the hair off his forehead before laying a sweet kiss on his lips. “Thank you for making my dreams come true. That was…everything.”
Kason swallowed hard. He knew how the other guy felt.
He ran his fingers up and down Wren’s spine, loving how she snuggled into him, and whispered, “I was wrong. It wasn’t music I was meant for, it was you. Both of you. Please tell me we’re good now.”
Wren lifted her head so she could smile sleepily up at him and said, “We’re fantastic. At least it didn’t take you five years to realize you fucked up.”
“I deserved that.” Jordan grumbled, then thunked his forehead on Kason’s shoulder. “But seriously, Kason, why can’t it be both?”
He nodded solemnly and took a deep, steady breath. Everything inside him settled for the first time in forever. When he exhaled, it was to sing the song he’d written for them that morning at the mountain house. It hadn’t come to him at once. It was while he rode his motorcycle that some of the lyrics filled themselves in.
He hoped they liked it. In his mind, he was calling it “The Real Thing” because it was. “‘Sometimes you have to crash, before you can heal. Sometimes you have to bust, before you can make it real…’”
It was the most important performance of his life. And when he was finished, both Wren and Jordan were sniffling while beaming at the same time. He hoped that when he sang it for the world and showed them his soul, they clapped instead of booing.
Kason finally understood that if they didn’t, he’d be okay because he had Jordan and Wren in his life. But it would be so much sweeter if they did.
29
A few nights later, Kason played his first concert since his hiatus.
Wren watched nervously from the wings of the stage, hoping his leg didn’t bother him too much. He’d been nervous as fuck before going on, something both Van and Kyra found unusual enough that Wren was afraid he might trip and break his other leg or something. It was no longer funny.
Nothing that could injure him or Jordan was a laughing matter.
They had reached the tail end of the show now, this song and an encore from the end, and he was killing it despite using the rolling scooter the Hot Rods and Hot Rides had made cool for him, even on short notice. The crowd was singing along with every song, dancing, and generally lusting after her man. Well, one of her men.
Wren looked over at Jordan, who was mouthing the lyrics to one of Kason’s hits as he danced beside her. He was a different person than he’d been five years ago. Hell, even a month ago.
He caught her stare and grinned. Then he twirled her around before dipping her and coming in for a kiss.
They were so enthralled with each other and the bliss overwhelming their lives that at first they didn’t notice the spotlight that flicked onto them as Kason ended one song and a low intro began to play in the background.
“Hey, you two lovebirds,” Kason called, snapping their attention to him. “Come out here, please?”
The crowd whistled as they noticed Wren and Jordan making out before shuffling onto the stage awkwardly. Right behind them, Wren heard Rick shouting, “What’s going on? We didn’t rehearse this! What the fuck?”
She also heard Van intervene, keeping Rick from following them or yanking them back, though she didn’t bother to give the asshole much of her attention.
There might have been tens of thousands of people watching, but only Kason and Jordan mattered to her.
“Hey,” he said to them as they neared. “Everyone. I want you to meet two of my favorite people in the world. This is Wren, and Jordan, and they’re in love.”
More whistles and cheers.
“I happen to be the most fortunate bastard in the world, because they also love me.”
A crash from the side stage didn’t deter Kason. He kept going, putting his heart out there for the world to see and judge. Wren couldn’t help herself. She reached for him and kissed him too.
The roar from the crowd was nearly deafening. She had no idea how Kason could stand up there and absorb that every night. The lights, the noise, it was…overwhelming.
She stepped back. Then she looked from Kason to Jordan—who was standing statue still, as if afraid to say or do anything wrong—and raised a brow. She’d shown him the way—would he take it or halfass this?
Kason didn’t disappoint.
He rolled closer so that he could put his hands on either side of Jordan’s face and bring it to his. The scorching exchange of their lips and tongues left absolutely no doubt in her heart or in the minds of anyone watching.
Kason loved them too. Both of them.
Wren cheered so loud she probably wouldn’t be able to speak for a week. She jumped up and down and clapped while her two men blew everyone in the audience away.
She knew for sure they had, because suddenly, it was so quiet she heard Rick cursing from the other side of the stage.
Kason pulled away from Jordan with a sigh that promised he was saving a lot more of that for later. Then he turned to the audience and spoke to them with a steely certainty that made Wren’s heart blossom.
“In life, you don’t always know what’s coming your way. But when something spectacular shows up, you have to grab it. So for this encore tonight, I want to perform a new song for you. One I wrote for Wren and Jordan. I hope you like it even better than the ones I’ve written before, because it’s authentic and it comes from my heart.”
A roadie rushed over and handed Kason the acoustic guitar he’d been playing that day at the cabin. He told everyone, “It’s called ‘The Real Thing.’”
The music picked up and Kason joined in. “‘Sometimes you have to crash, before you can heal. Sometimes you have to bust, before you can make it real…’”
Wren wished she could look out at the people listening to their love song to gauge their reactions, but she couldn’t peel her stare off Kason long enough to see if his words had as much impact on the crowd as they did on her. She’d meant what she’d said. No one else mattered.
But for Kason’s sake, she prayed that they loved him as much as she did.
The song was beautiful, and not only because it was theirs.
As Kason played, she noticed a flicker of light and then another as people began to turn on their cellphone flashlights in appreciation. At first it was a few, sprinkled here and there, but as Kason went on they grew more plentiful until it looked like fireflies in a field on a summer night.
Soon, the sparkles became a glow as more and more people showed their support.
And as the last note reverberated around the stadium, the entire place was ablaze.
Kason stood there, staring out at the reflection of his emotions. At acceptance. At love.
He’d earned it.
Wren and Jordan flew to him and crushed him in a hug. If there were tears in his eyes, she knew they were happy ones. “I love you both.”
As the house lights came up, Wren could see that not everyone was as euphoric as she was. Some people scowled and one person in the third row even threw a beer at them. Others stomped out of the stadium, unwilling to listen.
Kason had lost some fans, true. But he would gain others.
None of them as devoted as her or Jordan.
Thunderous applause followed as he said goodnight to the crowd, then abandoned his scooter, putting one arm around Jordan’s shoulders, the other around Wren’s and leaning on them. They would gladly carry him when he needed.
As they reached the edge of the stage, he said, “That was the best moment of my
life.”
“It was amazing, Kason. They adore you,” Wren said, reaching around to pat his abs with the flat of her hand.
“No. I mean the way you stared at me when I was singing.” He shook his head. “It was like the day you looked at Jordan the same way in the parking lot of Devra’s restaurant. I thought then that I would kill to have someone beam at me with such intense pride. Tonight you did. No high I’ve experienced was ever as intense as your admiration. Unless it’s Jordan’s. I love you both so much.”
“You deserve it.” Wren squeezed him, loving how her arm and Jordan’s rested against each other in the small of Kason’s back. “And in case I haven’t said it enough yet, I love you too, Kason.”
“Well, isn’t that quaint?” Rick spat, as red as if he had a third-degree sunburn. He looked angry enough to lunge at Kason and might have done it if Van hadn’t been restraining him. “You’re going to regret this. How could you throw it all away for this?”
“For the loves of my life? Easy.” Kason stared straight into his manager’s eyes and said clearly, “Rick, meet my future spouses. Nothing is worth more to me than them. Also…you’re fired. Van, escort him off the premises, please.”
From beside him, Jordan snorted when he heard Van say, “Rick, I think you’ll be going now.”
The Hot Rods and Hot Rides, who were already partying backstage, roared with laughter. Holden raised his glass and said, “Way to take out the trash, Kason.”
Sabra, his wife, was standing beside him. Kason motioned for her to come closer so he didn’t have to shout over the din. “You’re a reporter, right?”
“I used to be.” She smiled. “These days I produce the Hot Rods reality show.”
“Do you still have contacts in the media?” Kason wondered.
“Hell yeah, she does,” Holden chimed in.
“Would you like to interview me about what happened tonight and how insanely happy I am in my new relationship?”
“You don’t have to go that far,” Wren said softly. “Not to prove to me that you care. I believe you.”
“Same.” Jordan rubbed his hand up and down Kason’s side, making the man shiver.
“I want to. I want the whole world to know that it’s okay to love whoever the fuck you want.” He looked from Wren to Jordan and then at Tom, who was standing at the heart of them all, celebrating with Ms. Brown. “This could be the perfect opportunity to announce our charity work, too. Let’s turn this into something positive so that as many other people can be as happy as I am right now. Maybe that’s why I’ve been given this chance. I want to make the most of it.”
Wren was afraid she might crack Kason’s rib, she was clutching him so tight by the time he finished his impassioned speech. She couldn’t wait for them to be alone so she could show him, and Jordan, how perfect the rest of their lives were going to be.
It was going to have to wait a little while longer, though, because it seemed like there was always some drama circling around their group of friends. Now that theirs was resolved, it was someone else’s turn.
Van stormed back inside. Except, instead of looking pleased that Rick was history, he seemed pissed. Kason asked, “Everything okay? He didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”
“Who, Rick? No.” Van scowled as he glared at Holden and Sabra. “But that weaselly little traitor of yours? You can take him right back to Middletown. If he doesn’t get out of my face soon…”
Ollie interrupted as he caught up, breathing hard, Kyra tagging a few steps behind, her lipstick smeared. “Van, I’m sorry. I know you have a thing for her.”
“Then why’d you have your tongue stuffed halfway down her throat? I thought we were friends, asshole.” Van shocked everyone gathered by pulling back and popping Ollie right in the face. Guaranteed black eye. Damn!
Kaelyn and Nola, who were closest to Ollie, huddled over him, preventing Van from taking another shot. Kaige and Bryce rushed Van, pinning his arms while trying to force him to calm down. Instead, they only made him a captive target when Kyra rushed up to him and kneed him in the nuts.
Ouch.
“How dare you act like you want me now that someone else is interested? How many times have I thrown myself at you?” She sounded like she might cry or curse; it could go either way. Wren knew that was when a woman was most dangerous. On the verge of destruction. In that place where everything hurt and you wanted to lash out. “You idiot! You don’t have the right to say jack shit to me now or ruin this. Fuck you.”
Kyra tried again to lunge for Van. This time the women restrained her.
“Hey, come on.” Wren wedged herself between Van and Kyra. She held out her hand, leaving Jordan to keep Kason upright. “You’re going to be pissed at yourself for this tomorrow. Come with us. We’ll eat a ton of that ice cream I saw in your dressing room and figure out how to handle this better.”
Devra was there too, speaking in her calm voice, inserting herself between Kyra, Van, and Ollie. Together, they defused the situation.
Ollie called Kyra’s name. Though she flinched, she didn’t turn around.
Devra and Wren steered Kyra toward her private space, bolstering her with well-meaning lies about how men were dumb and promising everything would be okay once things settled down.
Ollie tried again to pierce the wall of people keeping them safely separated.
Van shouted her name too.
“Stop. Both of you. I just want to be alone,” Kyra said loud enough for them to hear.
Wren and everyone else around them winced, because no one who’d ever said so in such a miserable tone of voice really meant it.
* * *
_____
* * *
To find out what happens with Kyra, Ollie, and Van, check out Hard Ride HERE.
If you missed out on the Powertools: Hot Rods series, you can buy all eight books in a discounted single-volume boxset by clicking HERE.
If you’d like to start at the very beginning with the Powertools Crew, you can download a discounted boxset of the first six books HERE. Yes, know it says complete series but I wrote a seventh book more recently and haven’t gotten around to updating the boxset yet, sorry! You can find the seventh Powertools book, More the Merrier, HERE.
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About the Author
Jayne Rylon is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has sold more than one million books. She has received numerous industry awards including the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Indie Erotic Romance and the Swirl Award, which recognizes excellence in diverse romance. She is an Honor Roll member of the Romance Writers of America. Her stories used to begin as daydreams in seemingly endless business meetings, but now she is a full time author, who employs the skills she learned from her straight-laced corporate existence in the business of writing. She lives in Ohio with her husband, the infamous Mr. Rylon, and their cat, Frodo. When she can escape her purple office, she loves to travel the world, avoid speeding tickets in her beloved Sky, SCUBA dive, hunt Pokemon, and–of course–read.
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