- Black Gold 2 - Double Black (11 page)

Eyes burning, Jett scooted off the bed and rose unsteadily, then reached into his pocket for his smokes. Somehow he’d managed to break them all. The entire pack was useless.

He hurled it at the trashcan across the room. It thwacked against the wall with a satisfying sound before dropping like a stone into the bin.
Even though he knew he was overreacting, he wanted to push harder against the sense of restraint his affection for Billy imposed on him, wanted to lash out hard enough to get free of that suffocating sense of obligation to this person he loved. It had been so much easier when the people he loved and the people he hated were the same. So much emotion inside Jett needed out, but he had no idea how to purge it.
The bedsprings behind him squeaked, but when Jett turned around, all Billy had done was roll onto his back.

Billy stared at the ceiling. “I do. I want him to be your son. I want him to live here with us, but he’s going to go to college in Kansas. Even if he isn’t your son, I’ll pay for him to go. I don’t know what’s wrong with that. If nothing else, he’s the son of someone you once cared about. Or fucked. Or whatever it is that you feel for people you used to put your dick in.”

His weary gaze moved to Jett. “If you want me to take a more active role in the label, then fucking invite me along. I’m a pop star, not a damn psychic. I have no idea why you leave before I wake up. And I’ve put up with it. Put up with feeling like your cockwarmer. Now you want to deny me a
friend?
Or a
son?
Do you just get off thinking about me being here alone?”

“I fucking hate LA!” Jett shouted at the ceiling, like that was apropos of anything. “I hate it here! I miss New York, and I miss my band, and I fucking miss doing whatever the fuck I want!”

Jett leaped onto the bed and landed on his knees in front of Billy. The luxurious mattress absorbed most of the bounce, annoying him with its refusal to succumb to his dramatics. He stared Billy in the eye, exhaling in frustration that made his nostrils flare and his eyes narrow.

“Do you still want me?” Jett asked it point-blank, no evasive gaze, no flirtatious tone. He walked forward on his knees until he was in Billy’s personal space and glared into his eyes. Something dark and broken twisted inside him, turned his expression wistful and made his voice raw. “Does your skin still get hungry for mine? Sometimes I wish you’d just cut me open and bleed me dry, just let out all this…”

Billy moved so fast that it took Jett a moment to realize what had happened. All he knew was that Billy came at him, and then his chest stung. Before he could process the extent of the pain, Jett found himself flat on his back, looking at the top of Billy’s head.

Billy fucking cut me!
The stinging waned as Billy’s soft, hot tongue swirled over the welts. Billy looked up with bloodstained lips, golden eyes hazy with something between lust and rage. “I need you, Jethro. I wish I could get inside you sometimes. Burrow in so that you always have to take me with you, so that neither of us have any doubt.”

As startled as Jett was by Billy’s onslaught, something deeper than reason responded to the rough treatment. Jett yanked off his shirts and struggled to remove his boots with his feet. “Take me apart. Claw me open. Don’t leave me alone in this miserable fucking skin.”

Something fragile gave way in Jett’s mind at the admission he wasn’t totally happy. He closed his eyes. A sob choked his throat until he let it out. He sought Billy’s mouth blindly and kissed him until he found peace in the bruising of their lips.

When he opened his eyes, Billy’s were inches from his. So close, so beautiful. “Please,” Jett whispered, more desperate than he’d ever been to feel that desire. Billy’s want had saved Jett before, and it was all he had to cling to now with every bridge burned and every new face a danger.

He almost wailed when Billy pulled away, bereft of contact and afraid it wouldn’t return. He suddenly understood how Billy felt when Jett walked away.
I deserve whatever I get.
Billy returned from the bathroom brandishing Jett’s straight razor. Billy was naked, his hair tied back, and there was a wild look in his eye.

“Take off your pants.”

 

Jett started to ask what the fuck Billy was thinking. Then he laughed instead, an unhinged, rusty sound that made his ribs ache.

 

This promised to be a hell of an adventure.

Smirking with fatalistic amusement, Jett stood and gave Billy a view of his ass as he stripped. He looked over his shoulder, prickling with goose bumps as long hair cascaded over bare skin with the turning of his head. “All right, Nancy. Let’s play. Where do you want me?”

“You haven’t called me that in forever.” Some of the wildness in Billy’s eyes faded to sentiment. One hand smoothed over Jett’s abs, almost ticklish. With the other, he drew the razor across Jett’s pec. The blade was sharp and the cut shallow enough that it didn’t hurt even as much as the tattoos covering much of Jett’s body.

Blood seeped from the fine line. Billy dragged his tongue along it, then met Jett’s hungry mouth. “Going to slip inside you. Going to get in deep.”
Something uncoiled inside Jett at those words. He wanted to show Billy once and for all that everything he had belonged to him.
The stroking moved from Jett’s abdomen down to his cock, then around and between his cheeks. Billy’s fingers were surprisingly soft. Even without lube, the way that he rubbed Jett’s opening felt sensual.
Jett’s breathing turned ragged as Billy touched him. In all the time they’d been together, Billy had never done anything like this. Jett didn’t know where it was coming from or what it meant—how hard had Billy hit his head anyway?—but he thrived on the chaos.

He kissed Billy harder, trying to encourage him to take what he needed. Jett felt like he was seeing something that had been hidden inside his lover all this time. He wanted to see it all.

Maybe this was what it took to know Billy.
Maybe this was what it took for Jett to stop holding back.
Jett widened his stance, giving implicit approval to whatever Billy wanted. He

thrilled to the idea of being hurt a little. It was like the excitement before a new piercing or jumping into a mosh pit. His adrenaline spiked like it hadn’t in months, and he gave himself to the sensation and this unknown Billy.

The fingers went away briefly and returned wet, probably spit-slicked. With so little to ease the passing, it was rougher than usual when Billy’s finger moved inside. Jett relaxed. It didn’t hurt any more than he enjoyed.

Billy cut Jett’s nape and chased the featherlight sting with his mouth, offering relief and pain so close together it was hard to Jett to separate the sensations. “Get the lube. Tell me how much you want me inside of you.” Billy gave Jett a decisive shove forward that landed him face-first on the bed.

Jett started to rebel but realized he didn’t want to. It was habit to be contrary, not something that belonged to this moment. Instead, he crawled up the bed, remaining facedown so Billy had the view he wanted, and reached into the nightstand to withdraw the lube.

The novelty of the experience combined with Jett’s lingering jealousy and need to know this Billy until Jett wondered whether it had been his idea. His cock thickened against the soft sheets, pinned beneath his body. He drew his knees under him so Billy could see everything: Jett’s asshole still burning from the invasion, his cock and balls hard and tight with intense arousal.

Jett felt shameless, liberated. This was how he felt on stage, laying it all out there for his audience. On stage, though, he only bared his heart.

 

This was a whole new kind of shameless.

 

He craved it with a sudden, insatiable hunger that compelled his hand up and back to offer Billy the lube.

Jett’s mouth filled with the words of his part in this duet. “I want you inside me like I want to keep breathing.”
“Look at how hard you are. You like this, don’t you? Your ass up like this. You like me looking at you, don’t you?” Jett couldn’t see Billy’s face, but he sounded more breathless than nasty.
There was a
thump
behind him. Jett startled as Billy’s breath gusted against his hole. Warm, wet, soft, all at once on Jett’s opening. Billy kissed Jett’s ball sac, and then Billy began to suck his perineum. The tip of Billy's tongue pressured the skin, erotic and utterly different from their usual bedroom behavior.

Then the suction increased, making Jett acutely aware that his prostate lay just beyond that thin barrier. Billy’d never done that before.
“Oh fuck.” Jett gasped as he gave in to temptation and pressed into that amazing sensation. He wasn’t a squirmer, but he twisted his hips and shifted his knees farther apart to give Billy room to work.

Under his breath, Jett chanted, “Oh fuck, Billy.” He felt drugged, like none of this was quite real, but it was only Billy making him high, so it was safe. It was good.
“Oh, this is how it should be.” Jett sighed and buried his face in his folded arms at the head of the bed. His upper body might have been getting a nice Swedish massage, but his skin burned with the pleasure of what was happening between his spread thighs.

Jett heard the wheeze of the lube bottle; then warm, wet fingers prodded his opening. Billy slid two deep inside Jett, mingling discomfort with absolute pleasure as they pressured his prostate.

“Who are you performing for?” Billy’s voice was low, sensual but commanding— a voice rarely heard outside the studio. “Who is all this for? Who does this belong to?”

This seductive, challenging creature was closer to the fantasy of Goldie that Jett had jerked off to before they met. He’d fallen in love with his gentle, yielding Billy, but Jett’s body responded to Goldie’s voice and self-assured sexuality.

“I’m yours.” As Jett said it, it felt like he meant it more than he ever had. Every part of his being was awake, alert, reporting in that it was Billy’s.
Goldie’s.

Whoever this person with the voice and the hands was, Jett wanted to be his. He looked back through the veil of his hair to see his Billy there, obscured by shiny black strands but undeniably the same boyfriend Jett had woken up beside that morning. It was then that Jett realized it was still early enough to be light outside. When had they last fucked before dinner? When had Jett even been home at this hour?

“I missed you. I’m all yours, every bit of me.” The words came out almost apologetically, though Jett hadn’t planned to apologize. He hid his face in arms that looked more bruised than tattooed from so close. “I want you to own me so everyone knows it, so you never forget it.”

“Everyone had better know it. You’re going to make sure they know.” Billy gave Jett’s ass a hard slap.
The sting radiated from the point of impact and caused the hairs to rise on his arms. After a beat, Billy did it again. It was louder than it was painful, but Jett broke a sweat.
Billy traced over the skin, then slapped his ass again. “Tell me how you’re going to make them know it. Tell me how you’re going to make sure I never forget.”

Between getting spanked like a child and asked something so complicated, Jett couldn’t think. Didn’t everybody already know he was Billy’s? It didn’t seem anyone could have missed it.

He started to snarl that he didn’t fucking know, but the way Billy stroked his stinging skin felt so good he couldn’t risk making him stop.

 

“I’ll take you with me.”

 

Billy’s fingers erased the pain like a drawing from a chalkboard. He leaned forward and kissed Jett’s back, then centered his cock and pushed into him.

“I’m going to fill you so full of me that you won’t be able to go anywhere without me. I’ll keep you so full of me that everyone will know you’re marked. I won’t even have to be there.”

The abrupt penetration forced a throaty groan from Jett. He extended his arms to grip the edge of the bed and stretched his spine like a cat as he struggled simultaneously to get away from the intense pressure and take it all. Conflicting impulses flooded his brain until higher thought shut down.

He wanted Billy to love him, to be happy and safe because of him.

 

Jett’s cock twitched, and he couldn’t tell for a moment if he was going limp or getting harder. His hole spasmed and clenched around Billy’s length.

Needing reassurance, Jett turned his head to look at him. Seeing his gorgeous blond god covered in the stitches and bruises of his first fistfight, kneeling behind Jett, filling him like Jett would never let anyone else do, he felt dizzy with desire.

“Do it. I want it. I want you so much. Whatever you want to do.”

With his hands tight on Jett’s hips, Billy drove into him with more focus. His lip curled with effort, and sweat trailed down the side of his face as he brutalized that spot inside until Jett was incoherent. All the while, Billy held his gaze with adoration and relief in his eyes.

“I want you, Jett. You’re all I want. None of the rest of it means anything when you’re not with me.”

“Then keep me with you.” Jett grabbed Billy’s hand and twined their fingers. His neck hurt from craning, and there was too much space between them. Jett rose onto his knees like Billy and leaned back so his shoulders pressed to Billy’s chest. Jett’s hair snagged and caught on their sweaty skin until he gathered it and flipped it forward so nothing came between their bodies.

It was like they’d fallen out of tune but were harmonizing again. The relief he saw in Billy’s eyes flooded through him too.
Jett pulled Billy’s muscular arms around him and tipped up his face, slackmouthed with the effort of taking Billy’s cock so deeply. “I’ll be your bitch if you want, anything you need me to be. You can spank me when I’m bad, tie me up so I can’t leave, fuck me until I can’t walk.”
They kissed desperately. Emotions bigger than Jett caught him in their grip. “I’m yours. You don’t need anyone else to be that for you. I’ll be everything you need.”
Billy clung, sawing hard into Jett like he’d never stop.
“Don’t want you to be my bitch. Just want you.” Each word resonated with a slight change in Billy’s expression. Nails sank into Jett’s skin as Billy started to shudder. He fucked Jett in hard bursts, moans ratcheting up in volume. “Gonna fill you.”
Billy’s cock touched something magical inside Jett, not the usual physical thrill of having his prostate battered, but something formless and fleeting. He’d felt it before, that tingle at being possessed so completely, but it eluded stimulation, lurked behind other thoughts, other feelings.
Now that twinge came to the fore and lit a fire inside Jett. His skin prickled, and his limbs tensed with shared energy, like he’d somehow plugged into Billy’s pleasure and made it his own. It amplified every touch until Jett, pliant and willing, could do nothing but ride Billy’s lean, dancer’s body, at once assaulted and supported by the inexhaustible strength in those powerful thighs.