Then it dawned on me that he’d never bring anyone back here; he’d have gone to their room, where anything could have happened.
Fucking hell, that was unacceptable!
I was tempted to leave a handprint on his ass when he rolled over and reached for an end table drawer, but that required a conversation at the very least, though I preferred to reserve that sort of admonishment for those I was involved in a relationship with. Instead, I pressed my hand on his back so he couldn’t turn back over after he’d retrieved the condoms and lube and kept him pinned in place while I took my time prepping him.
Every time he tried to get more, I withdrew my fingers, circled his entrance, and teased before sliding them back in again. I couldn’t tell if his grumbles were complaints; it was impossible to make any words out, just raw frustration and need. By the time I entered him, even my patience was at the end. The slap of skin on skin filled the room, accompanied by Rebel’s low, throaty groans and my grunts each time I bottomed out. When he came, whimpering, hole tightening around my cock, he pulled me over the edge with him, pleasure slamming into me until I was wrung out and breathless.
We collapsed into a sweaty tangle of arms and legs, Rebel’s eyes closed, his hair a messy halo around his face that I couldn’t resist smoothing back.
“Don’t tell me we have to move,” Rebel muttered. “My move receptors are broken.”
It was so unexpected, and yet so Rebel, to come up with something so off the wall yet absolutely fitting for the situation. Being assigned to Damaged Saints meant my contact with him was limited to when the two bands merged during a handful of random encounters backstage and at hotels.
He’d flirted from day one, singling me out from the rest of the guards, who he spent the bulk of his time avoiding. He did not like having someone glued to his hip. Tonight wasn’t thefirst time he’d slipped away from the man assigned to protect him, but it was the first time he’d done it without his guard knowing he’d wandered off somewhere.
The longer I lay there, arm draped across his back, lamplight sending glints of gold streaming through those curls of his, the more my concern grew. Tonight, we’d got lucky; he’d stayed in the hotel, but what if he hadn’t?
Would anyone else have spotted him sitting at the bar the way I had?
The hoodie and the sideways slouch had given it away. He wore it often. The grim reaper emblem on the back faded and flaked away in several spots, so distinctive, I’d know it anywhere. I’d come to look forward to the times when he’d seek me out, lean against the wall beside me, and kick off the conversation with some snarky-ass comment that drew stares our way when one of us started laughing.
He truly was a menace, but the topics he chose showed a deeper side of him and a kind of sarcastic curiosity that never failed to keep me engaged.
If we didn’t get cleaned up, one or both of us was going to wind up stuck to the bed. He must have been thinking the same thing and reengaged his move receptors, because he finally started squirming out from beneath my arm, grumbling all the way to the edge of the bed.
“Why is the bathroom so far away?” he complained as he sat there brushing the hair out of his face.
“No clue, that’s above my paygrade,” I replied, snorting when he turned a look of disbelief my way. “What?”
“Now you have jokes,” he said. “Where was that at the bar?”
“They’re bed jokes, not bar jokes,” I replied, laughing so hard I collapsed back on my pillow when he shot me the bird on his way to the bathroom.
We swapped places when he emerged, and when I came out, it was to see him pulling the cum-splattered bedspread off the bed, casting it aside to reveal that only the fitted sheet remained on the mattress.
He might want to think about allowing housekeeping in to freshen it up in the morning, because I didn’t intend for us to be done for the night.
But first, a hit of nicotine and a chance to fully recover.
“I’m going to hit my vape,” I declared as I pulled my jeans on and felt around in my pockets to make sure it hadn’t fallen out. “You coming?”
“Yeah, let me just…” he said, words trailing off as he looked around for the clothes he’d discarded.
He was halfway to his jeans when he stopped and turned back around. “Actually, no, I’m good; it’s kind of late to vape, isn’t it?”
His eyes shifted to the balcony when he said it, his hesitation coming completely out of the blue, considering it was only a quarter past one and I knew he partied way later into the night than this.
Hold the fucking phone.
I stalked over to the sliding glass door, slid it open, and immediately spotted the sheet knotted through the grating.
“Are you fucking kidding me!” I snapped, whirling around to see him standing there looking sheepish.
When I peered over the edge, I saw the end of the sheet fluttering above the balcony below.
“They were super cool about it,” Rebel said, as if that somehow made it better.
“Who? The people downstairs? What were you going to do if there hadn’t been anyone in that hotel room?” I asked.