“Now you’re getting closer.”
“Fine, my buddies and I got into some shit before I started taking music seriously. Afterward, man, the thing I hated the most was being grounded and told that I couldn’t touch my guitar. I’d have rather been told to clean the apartment top to bottom or be put on dish duty for a month, but my old man knew how to drive a point home. Taking away my guitar, that was his best way of assuring that I didn’t pull the same shit again.”
“Now the truth comes out,” I said, nudging him with my arm. “Troublemaker.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve been working on toning it down. No one likes a pissed-off Draven. Now that he’s become our manager, he’s tapped into a side of himself that’s scary as fuck. I’d prefer to stay on his good side, thank you very much.”
“Got chewed out, didn’t you?”
“More than once,” he replied. “It still feels like half my ass is missing.”
“I can check that for you later, if you want.” Those were my words, but the coy, teasing tone in my voice wasn’t one I recognized.
It seemed like he was starting to influence more than just my songwriting.
“Anytime, anyplace.”
Game on!
I reached for the back of his t-shirt and tugged until he stopped and glanced back over his shoulder.
“Seems like just as good a place as any,” I replied, batting at his hands when he reached for his belt buckle.
I fumbled with it for a moment, pressed against his back, before I got it undone, popped his button, and lowered the zipper.
“Just right out here in the open, huh?”
I turned to see that our wandering had carried us down the beach from the rest of the band, so far away that all I could make out was the shape of them on the rocks and sand.
“Unless you’re feeling shy,” I remarked, slipping my fingers through the slit of his boxers to caress him.
“Never.”
He punctuated it by shoving his jeans off his hips so they pooled at his feet, chuckles turning to moans when I stroked him.
“Thought you were supposed to be checking my ass,” he muttered as I nuzzled his neck and shoulder and stroked again, grazing my teeth over the skin this time.
“In a minute.”
“Fuck! You do not play fair.”
“How so? I asked, lips pressed to the side of his neck, stroking slowly, just teasing, since that’s as far as I dared take it, exposed the way we were.
“Gah! You know how!”
“I’m not sure I do,” I replied, nipping him. “You might need to enlighten me.”
Groaning, he sputtered a few unintelligible words that ended in a whimper when I ran my thumb over the head of his cock.
Time to stop now.
“Ass is all there, by the way,” I said, tugging his boxers away from his body so I could peer down the back of them. “No teeth impressions either. I’d say you got off lightly.”
“I’d prefer to just get off,” he grumbled and bent to yank up his jeans.
His ass was right there, barely covered by those thin boxers, so I palmed a cheek and gave it a little squeeze.
Yelping, Rebel jumped, tripped over his jeans, and landed in the sand, ankles still trapped by the denim. Snickers bubbled over as he floundered around, ass in the air, before he rotated onto his back and started flopping, struggling to pull his jeans up so he could stand.