by Jet Mykles
Darien laughed. “It’s your club, dumbass; you can get them to play whatever you want.”
Luc’s eyes lit up, along with a bright smile. “My God, I do believe you’re right.” He pulled out his cell.
Chapter Six
All in all, Brent thought the night went well. Troubles of the afternoon aside, the show had rocked. The fans were jazzed. The press was abuzz.
And the sexual possibilities were virtually endless.
It was often like this, especially when he hadn’t played before an audience for months. He got on stage with the guitar in his hands, and his body came alive. The sheer carnal joy of their music and the fans was blatantly sexual. Even the relatively small crowd of fifteen hundred for which they’d played that night had set a fire in Brent’s belly that demanded he quench it with the aid of a willing body.
Or two.
So there he sat on a stool at the bar, his sixth or seventh drink by his elbow, a cigarette between two fingers, and an arm around a beautiful woman. Two more beautiful women stood beside him, and he was enjoying their not-so-subtle battle, the winner of which would presumably spend the night with him.
Still amazed him. He barely spoke, too tongue-tied in public to manage many words strung together. Unless he was really drunk, and what he said during those times hardly ever bore repeating. But it didn’t matter. Tonight he was back in the swing of being the guitarist of Heaven Sent. He didn’t mind that they wanted to sleep with a Brent Rose that bore little resemblance to the real man. Heaven Sent’s Brent Rose was cocky yet taciturn. Quiet and mysterious. He hid deep thoughts behind opaque shades. That Brent Rose attracted lovers like ... flowers attracted bees.
Buzz.
He glanced over the mostly bare shoulder of the woman standing in front of him and saw the cherub. He perched on a table not too far away, with a gathering of heavily made-up men and women around him. He had a tall, colorful drink with an umbrella, held in both graceful hands, the base of the glass propped on the knee of his black laced pants. My, didn’t he look tasty?
Buzz.
A pretty boy with buzzed black hair leaned in close to Hell’s ear, clearly suggestive. Brent blinked at the sudden surge that filled his breast when Hell smiled and reached up to slide his fingertips along the boy’s chin.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz Buzz.
Laughing, Hell turned his head. The light purple hair that seemed white in the ever-changing lights fell over his eyes. He reached up a ringed hand to brush it aside, and his eyes locked on Brent’s. He smiled wide and raised his glass in salute.
Brent raised his in return.
Female fingers stroked his cheek, and he obediently turned toward the pretty face that went with the soft touch. She smiled, red lips curving invitingly. Long nails scraped lightly down his chest. Her fingers toyed with the first button of his white shirt that was actually fastened, halfway to his navel. He’d abandoned the sweaty tank top after the show, so her sharp nails grazed bare skin. She brushed soft breasts against his arm. But he’d lost interest. She was pretty. He could take her back to his room. But that’s not what he wanted. Wasn’t her fault that she was female. Damn.
He smiled, not letting on his thoughts. Not that anyone expected to read his thoughts behind the glasses. He grabbed her hand before it could trail any lower and raised her palm to his lips, kissed it, then leaned back to release it. “I need a break for a while, ladies,” he proclaimed, downing the last of his drink.
“But Brent ...”
“Brent, honey ...”
“I’ll go with you!”
He brushed a hand over one soft shoulder. What are you doing, man? But his hand fell back to his side. “Sorry.”
He stood and one of them -- Gina? -- grabbed his hand, forcing him to look at her. “How about if we both --” She tilted her head at ... Veronica? “-- go with you?”
Are you stupid? he asked himself, watching his hand slide down her sweet neck as he shook his head. “Maybe later” Of course, it was already well after one in the morning. The bar itself would be closing soon to all but the VIP members, which none of these three lovelies were..
She smiled. “We’ll be here.”
He matched her smile and even leaned in to graze the corner of her mouth with his lips. Damn it. He placed the cigarette between his lips, shoved his hands in the pockets of his white slacks, then sauntered off.
You have got to get a grip, he told himself as he casually wound through the crowd, waving to anyone who tried to catch his eye, but not stopping. The shades helped. No one was ever quite sure if he was looking at them or not. He was good at it after many years of practice. Look like he was headed somewhere important, and people tended to leave him alone.
Three women aching to take you to bed, and you’re obsessing over the cherub. He really should stop thinking of Hell as “the cherub.” He was going to slip one day and call him that, and he wasn’t sure the sentiment would sound right outside of his head.
He stubbed out his cigarette in an ashcan by the dark little passage that was his destination. Tyler had shown them the exit earlier. It led to a small, enclosed courtyard he’d promised to keep private, as well as an express elevator up to the luxury-suite floors. Brent would just take a brief cigarette break to get his head on straight; then he’d go back to the party and find a willing male body. That’s all there was for it.
The guy manning the velvet rope across the way recognized him and lifted the rope before Brent even had to stop. He waved a hand in thanks and walked past. The beat of the music dulled just as one of Heaven Sent’s songs came on. He smiled, lazily fingering an air guitar to his own riffs He still enjoyed their music. Had to be a good sign, yeah?
Brent made his way around a few turns. The lighting was subdued, the floor carpeted. Tyler’s hotel was one class act. Heaven Sent was treated well at most hotels, but they got extra special treatment at this one.
He fished out his pack of Camels and was just popping one out of the box when he reached the entrance to the courtyard.
And froze.
Across the diamond tiles and beyond a few sturdy iron table and chair sets, an iron bench sat in a relatively dark corner. A couple he knew well sat on it, the white of their clothing standing out in the shadows. Luc had one arm wrapped around Reese’s slim waist as the younger man with royal-blue-tipped black hair straddled his hips, their lips locked in a hot and heavy kiss that made Brent’s mouth water. Luc’s other hand was trying to burrow between them toward Reese’s groin, but Reese had a grip on his wrist, obviously fighting.
Reese finally pulled back, tilting his head toward the glass ceiling that revealed the stars overhead. Luc’s lips trailed down the pale column of Reese’s throat toward the chest that was exposed through the V of his collar.
Reese hissed. “Quit it! We should get back to the party.”
“No.” Luc’s voice was almost lost since he refused to take his lips from Reese’s skin. His next words were muffled, but Brent was pretty sure he heard a “need you” in there.
Reese dug his free hand into Luc’s fiery auburn hair and pulled the man’s head back. “Then let’s go upstairs.” They spoke in whispers, but the acoustics of the area carried the words to Brent.
Luc sucked in air, hooded eyes drinking in the sight of his lover. “In a minute. God, you feel good!”
Reese bent his head, nipping at Luc’s chin. “You, too. Let’s go upstairs.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
But when Reese tried to pull back to get to his feet, Luc’s free hand shot up into his hair, yanking his mouth down for another soul-searing kiss.
Brent blinked, mesmerized. As intense as he and Luc had ever gotten, Luc had never kissed him like that. Even when he was pretending Brent was Reese. The reality seemed to be far preferable to the fantasy. But Brent had known that from the start.
Movement at his side made him jump, and he spun. His mouth fell open to see none other than the cherub stepping up to his side, eyes on the obliviou
s couple. Hell cocked his head, studying them. Those precious lips, still glossy with makeup even after hours in the club, pursed. A long-fingered hand decked in gold rings propped on one cocked hip. Before Brent could think of anything to say, Hell darted a glance at him. Kohl-lined eyes went back to Luc and Reese, then back to Brent. He grinned, complete with teeth that Brent wouldn’t have been surprised to see were pointed. He turned his head to the couple and stepped from the carpet of the passageway onto the tile of the courtyard. Brent reached for his arm, but he was too late. The two-inch block heels of his boots clacked on the tile.
Reese flinched.
Luc froze, eyes opening.
Hell stopped a few feet into the courtyard, hands now folded behind his back. “How pretty.”
Reese turned a guilty look toward him, eyes going wider to see Brent standing there as well.
Brent popped his nearly forgotten cigarette between his lips and dug in his pocket for his lighter. It gave him something to do. “Really, guys,” he said, hoping his voice sounded vaguely indifferent. “You’ve got a huge suite upstairs.”
Reese turned back to glare at Luc. “That’s what I said,” he hissed through his teeth. To Brent’s delight, he actually punched Luc. Hard. In the gut.
Luc grunted, his hold on Reese loosed.
Reese took the opportunity to push to his feet. Hastily, he untucked his long shirt, hiding what would probably be a bulge in his tight pants.
Luc sank back on the bench, blatantly pouting as he rubbed his stomach His tiger-striped shirt was completely unbuttoned and open, draping his broad shoulders. He obviously didn’t care who saw the boner tenting his slacks. “We were doing fine until company showed.” He glared at Hell and Brent.
Brent feigned indifference, flipping open his Zippo and lighting his smoke. “Not our fault the party’s boring.”
Hell glanced over his shoulder at Brent, one questioning purple brow raised.
Okay, it was actually a pretty rocking party, but he had to say something. He busied himself with putting away the cigarette pack and lighter.
When he looked up, Reese was at the elevator, staring across the courtyard.
Brent turned to look in the same direction.
Luc still sat on the bench, arms spread across the back. His head was tilted to the side, and his dark, speculative gaze was on Hell. Then it flicked to Brent. And back.
“Hey,” Reese called, “aren’t you coming?”
Grinning broadly, Luc stood and started across the courtyard. “Yep.”
Brent felt his eyes go wide and belatedly realized Luc couldn’t see them. He shook his head behind Hell’s back.
Luc caught the motion and laughed softly. A minute nod, then his attention was fully back on Reese.
Reese held the elevator door for him, smacking Luc’s hand away when the redhead reached for him. Reese looked at Hell and Brent. “You guys coming?”
“We’ll take the next one,” Hell proclaimed happily.
Brent almost groaned at the huge smile that comment produced on Luc’s face, just before the elevator doors closed. Shaking his head, he stepped over to sit in one of the iron chairs. It wasn’t until the elevator closed that he realized his error. He was now alone with Hell and the lingering effects of sexual tension between Luc and Reese. Not to mention his own needs. Brent was hard. Oh, yeah, now you wake up, he chided his dick, hoping the loose fit of his slacks hid his state.
Hell’s tight pants, however, did no such thing. This was made evident to Brent when the cherub stepped up in front of him. Nice! was his first thought as he helplessly eyed the curve of Hell’s cock in the tight confines of the shiny black pants. Then he realized what he was looking at and hastily sat back, trembling fingers bringing the cigarette to his lips. The angle might have been right for Hell to see his eyes checking out Hell’s package!
Calmly, Hell sat down in the chair in front of Brent. He leaned an elbow on the table and propped his chin in his palm, watching Brent with a speculative look.
Shit! “What?”
“It was Luc.”
“What was Luc?”
“You slept with Luc.”
“Huh?”
“I thought it might be Johnnie, but no, I think it’s Luc.”
Brent avoided watching the cherub by looking around for an ashtray. None were in sight. “What are you talking about?”
“You and he are very comfortable together.”
He flicked ash on the tiles beside his feet. “We’ve been best friends since grade school.”
Hell cocked his head to the side. “When did you start fucking?”
Brent frowned. “We’re not fucking.”
“Not now. Of course not now. He’s very much in love with Reese. That is obvious. Although, you do look like Reese. Was that the attraction?”
Brent’s nostrils flared. He did not want to have this conversation. He glanced at the elevator, wondering if he could get in without Hell coming with him. The thought of being in a tiny enclosed space with the cherub made his dick throb. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’ve been watching you.”
He patted his pocket for his pack of smokes. “Yeah.” He’d just have another one, and hopefully Hell would head on up to his room alone.
“I want you.”
Brent froze, anger draining as he was speared by an intense violet gaze.
Hell turned his arm so his fingers curled up in front of his chin. The frothy lace of his cuffs spilled down his forearm, displaying the gold bracelet, ring, and the chains that linked them over the back of his hand. “Mmm.” He straightened his index finger slightly to trace the top curve of his upper lip with a manicured fingernail.
Brent swallowed. “We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“The band ...” The finger was distracting. Or was it the lips?
“You slept with Luc.”
“That was different.”
The tip of Hell’s pink tongue nudged out to lick one side of his upper lip. “I’d die to know what it’s like to have those talented fingers on me.” Oh, the accent just made that sentence so very amazing.
Said fingers went lifeless and dropped the cigarette.
Hell’s gaze dropped.
Brent realized a hole was burning in his slacks.
“Fuck!” He jumped up, sending the chair clattering to the tiles behind him. He brushed off the burning ash. No flames, but there was a definite burn mark.
Brent froze again when Hell’s boots and legs appeared in his downcast vision. He started to back away on instinct, but Hell’s hands reached up to cup his face, tilting it so Brent had to straighten and look at him. With the heels on the boots, Hell’s height reached Brent’s chin. He gazed into the cherub’s face. He’d never seen that hunger in those eyes. It made them a deep, beguiling indigo.
Hell grimaced slightly; then Brent felt thumbs and fingers at the arms of his sunglasses, pressing them up.
“Hey,” he reached up to grab at Hell’s hands.
He didn’t get a grip on the slim wrists before Hell yanked his face down and took his lips in a kiss.
Oh, God! Brent heard the moan ooze from his throat as liquid heat shot through his veins. Just the touch of those soft lips with the remnants of gloss was enough to chase away thoughts and bring forward pure feeling. Fingers dug into his hair, pushing his sunglasses up farther, as the lips parted and the point of a warm, wet tongue teased the seam of Brent’s lips. He opened without hesitation, sucking in the questing tongue, pulling hard. Hell let out a grunt of surprise that turned into a ragged groan. He stepped closer to Brent, his belly brushing Brent’s erection through layers of fabric. Unthinking, Brent dropped his arms around Hell’s waist, pulling the smaller man closer to increase the pressure. They both sighed. Hell’s arms slid up to wind around Brent’s neck, and Brent’s hands spanned out, one over the middle of Hell’s back and one dropping down to squeeze a firm ass cheek.
Fingers again tangled
in his hair, this time at the back of his skull, and pulled until he was forced to break the kiss. Both he and Hell sucked in breath without breaking their embrace.
Hell recovered first. “Elevator.”
Reason tried to wiggle its way to the surface of Brent’s brain. “Wait.”
“No. No waiting.” Sharp teeth nipped at Brent’s chin. “Need to fuck you.”
He groaned. “But ...”
Hell unwound the arm with the free hand from around Brent’s neck and wormed it down between them. Brent hissed when firm fingers melded to his cock. “Want you.” Need put more of the German accent into his voice so that it came out sounding like “Vant you.” “Want to know how you taste.”
Brent was only a flesh-and-blood human being, and at the moment, all of his flesh and blood was at the mercy of the cherub’s hot little hand and seductive, commanding voice.
He closed his eyes and swallowed, walking backwards at Hell’s nudge. He had to trust that Hell knew where they were going because the man had a solid grip on his cock and didn’t seem to be anywhere close to letting go. Brent’s back came up against a wall. Hell tilted his head down into another tongue-sucking kiss, only freeing his hand to lower it to press the elevator button once Brent was fully engaged in the lip lock.
When the doors opened, Hell pushed. Brent stumbled free of the cherub’s hold and leaned against the low railing circling the three walls of the elevator. Hell stepped inside and reached to press the button with the hand that held Brent’s sunglasses.
Brent stared at the glasses. They looked so odd, so ordinary in someone else’s hands. Especially those hands. Long and elegant, somewhat hidden beneath the lacy flounce of his shirt cuffs. Rings shone from most of the fingers as he raised the sunglasses. Brent watched in fascination as Hell used the tip of one earpiece to trace the full curve of his bottom lip.
“Your kiss is divine, Süsser.” The last word sounded like an endearment, kind of “si-ssur” with a hard i and a drawn out s in the middle. Hell stepped toward Brent, sucking the earpiece between his lips. “How does the rest of you taste?”
