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“Yeah. That sounds good. I gotta go now. I want to finish this lovely breakfast someone ordered for me, before I have to jet out to a radio interview.” That wasn’t anything I’d set up. I was too removed now to know what was going on, but I wasn’t surprised either.
“Okay, babe. Richmond it is.”
“Bye.”
Fuck. I had to get a flight to Virginia.
I’d only jacked off three times since Ziggy agreed to see me again. I didn’t want to come off like I only wanted the sex. Sure, it had been a ton of fun, and I did want more of it. But I wanted to show him that I was interested in him for more than that. And with a little luck, he’d accept that. I felt like maybe he’d been used too many times. Or seen too many things… Fucked too many groupies.
I didn’t know and sure as hell didn’t want my imagination running wild on that. Focusing on a future was better. And what would that look like? Maybe I’d sell my place in Denver. I didn’t need it. But I didn’t want to live out of a suitcase forever either. With Ziggy’s home base in Miami, though, it made sense to get a place there. So, I scrolled through Zillow while waiting for my flight.
six
On the Way to VA
Seven fucking hours on a bus. Alone with Miami and Jinx. They retired to the back, probably to fuck. So fuck them. I was bored and horny. I slept some but spent more time tossing and turning in my bunk.
When I got a text from Coleman that he was at the airport, it made my dick super hard. Fuck me again. I seriously needed to rub one out, and there was no privacy in this tin can. Sure, for the dynamic duo in the back with the door shut, but I didn’t have a door, only a curtain. I needed to change some shit. Why did Iagree to this crap? Oh, yeah. Because Coleman was fucking off. Well, he’d finally pulled his head out of his ass and was meeting us in Richmond. I pictured some serious hotel fucking. But then—
The picture came to a screeching halt. We weren’t staying the night in Richmond. The show was some outdoor festival, and we’d be loading back on the bus to head to New Jersey. We would have a couple days there, but not Richmond. And Coleman should already know that. I sent him a text:No hotels in Richmond. I’m soo not fucking on the bus.
I might have in the past. Hell, I had two twinks bunked in with me at one time. That was fun. But not what I did anymore. That was a long time ago.
Coleman texted back:Gonna get a room. We’ll fly to Jersey. I have your schedule. It’s doable.
It might be doable, but I didn’t want to be the one to tell Marci. She would skin me alive—metaphorically. Still. I texted:You tell Marci.
He sent a thumbs up. Well, thank fuck for that. Coleman could organize anything, but I still had to get there. I looked out the window. I saw a sign for Port of Richmond and figured we were getting close, but not close enough. I shoved my dick, wishing it would chill the fuck out. It didn’t help.
I stuck my hand down my pants and grabbed it. Fucking monster. I wasn’t small by any means. The head was super sensitive as I rubbed my finger over my slit. If I was trying to stave this shit off, I was failing miserably.
There was only one thing to do. I stuck my head out from behind the curtain. In the front of the bus, Drake had his legs stretched out, and I could hear him softly snoring. The driver had music playing. In the back, the door was still shut. So fuck it. I ducked back in and gave my dick a tug. I was ready to explode. This was going to be fast and dirty. I reached into my duffle foryesterday’s shirt. I’d need to do laundry when we got to New Jersey. For now, it would do.
With that ready, I got busy stroking my cock, thinking about Coleman going down on me. Fuck, I was happy we could find some alone time. I missed him so fucking much. More than I liked to admit, even to myself. I hated feeling like that, so I shut that shit down and thought about his sexy ass and long legs.
It didn’t take long before I was grunting with each stroke, chasing that orgasm all around.
The curtain flew open.
“Fucking God!” I grabbed the shirt and covered my dick. “What the hell?”
Miami had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Whatcha doin’ in here, Ziggy?”
“Fuck right off, Sandro.” Using his real name would show how pissed I was. But he didn’t seem to care.
He cackled. Mother-fucking-cackled.
I grabbed the curtain, yanking it out of his hand. “Go back to your man, you nosey fucker.”
Jinx had to get in on everything too, of course. “What’s going on?”
Fuck them both. “Nothing. Leave me alone.”
“Miami, come on, babe. Leave Zig alone.” He sounded on my side, but he was smothering his laughter, so no, I didn’t trust that.
“Not living this one down, Zig.”
“You better shut your face, Miami.” I felt like punching him. Why the fuck would he torture me?
