AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Glancing at his phone, Taylor downed the whiskey in the glass with one swallow. No texts. No missed calls. Nothing. And that wasn’t like him. Jesse made sure a text was waiting for him when he woke up every day he was on the road. They’d both tap away to each other on their phones as he laid there in his bunk while the bus took them to their next stop on the tour.
He’d known about Chloe for quite a while now. Jesse had never hidden the fact that he wanted her and Taylor was okay with that. He had that craving for pussy too—loved it as much as he loved cock. And he got plenty of pussy whenever he wanted it. The only pussy Jesse wanted was hers. The longer he was away traveling with the band, the more Jesse talked about her and that wild notion in his head.
Fucking unobtainable fantasy is what it is.
Though, truth be told, once Jesse planted the seed of it in his mind, it was a fantasy he harbored as well. And why not? For a man like him—like Jesse—there was nothing else quite so perfect. Quite often, in the middle of the night, as the bus traversed yet another highway to yet another nameless city, he and Jesse would jerk off together on FaceTime to thoughts of all the things they would do with her soft body writhing between them. He was sporting a semi right now just thinking about it.
But Taylor was a realist. She was just a fantasy.
“Tay? Babe, I’m sorry,” Jesse’s smooth soft-spoken voice coming from the other side of the door broke into his thoughts. “I know you’re in there. C’mon, open up.”
Taylor exhaled. Was that relief he felt? Maybe. Still, he was ticked.
He opened the door. Jesse stood there on the step, still in his Charley’s work clothes with his hand hovering at the door, as if he were about to knock. He was alone.
Not saying a word, Taylor abruptly turned around and poured himself more whiskey. He leaned against the minibar, one booted foot propped up on the black leather banquette, swirling the amber liquid inside the glass. His features were schooled into the practiced mask he usually wore. It came naturally to him now. Cool indifference. His signature scowl most interpreted as a smug bad-boy smirk.
Jesse stepped inside the bus and in one stride stood before him. Those diamond eyes of his flared as they bored into his own. Taylor stared right back and appearing unaffected sipped his whiskey. Jesse took the glass from his hand, swallowed the amber liquid that remained, and set it down. Then his fingers slipped into his hair, raking through the long strands. Jesse gathered the ends in his fists and tugged him to his mouth.
Their teeth clashed and their tongues collided. His kiss a ferocious claiming. Taylor felt Jesse’s erection press against him through his jeans. It almost made him forget he was angry. Almost. With his hands on Jesse’s pecs, Taylor tore his lips away from that mouth and shoved Jesse off of him.
“What the fuck, Tay?” He had the audacity to look hurt.
Bloody fucking bastard.
Taylor sniggered, “Enjoy the show?” Then he turned away.
Jesse grabbed his bicep. His fingers pressed hard into the muscle. The action forced him to turn back and look at the hurt he inflicted in those eyes of brilliant blue. He was hurt too, though, and Jesse’s gaze held no remorse—or did it?
“Look, I said I’m sorry.” He was still panting from their kiss. Jesse paused to catch a breath and gave his head a shake before he spoke again. “We’ve been slammed all day, man. I just finished closing up.”
“Where’s the bird?”
“Don’t call her that. It sounds sexist.”
Taylor cocked his head and shrugged. “You say chick, I say bird. What’s the fucking difference? So, where is she?”
“I told you we just closed up.” He rubbed a spot on the back of his neck. “She was dead on her feet. I sent her home.”
“I see.”
But he didn’t really. While Taylor reasoned with himself that what Jesse told him was likely the truth, he was still out of sorts they hadn’t come to the show. That he hadn’t brought her with him now. Could the hidden truth be that Jesse had changed his mind? Perhaps Jesse decided he wanted the girl more than him. Pussy wins over cock. Or perhaps he wanted to keep her to himself. Maybe what Jesse said he wanted wasn’t what he really wanted after all.
Jesse tightened his grip on his arm. “Once the festival is over we can…”
“No…” Taylor paused to peel Jesse’s fingers from his bicep. “…we can’t. I’m leaving for London on Monday.”
He’d just decided that.
“What?” Jesse asked incredulously. With his brow furrowed, he slowly shook his head as if he hadn’t heard him right. “You just got home. Why would you leave again already?”
Two’s company…three’s a crowd. To remove myself from this losing equation.
“My mum.”
Jesse couldn’t take issue with that, now could he?
“Is she okay?” The furrow in his brow deepened. “She’s not sick or anything, is she?”
