so much more than we talked about before. Our childhoods, our families, our touring experiences. He has a lot more miles logged than I do, just on his first tour as a teeny bopper when he was thirteen. Add the years he’s spent working for his oldest brother, and he’s an old pro at life on the road.
“Is it weird for you?” I ask as we’re tangled up in bed, my head pillowed on his shoulder and my right leg threaded between his. I stroke up and down his torso, mesmerized by the way his skin ripples and shudders, the muscles standing out in high relief when he flexes for my enjoyment. “Being in one place for so long?”
He hums thoughtfully. “Yes and no. At first it was just nice, the kind of relief you always get when you get a break from touring and get to spend more than a few nights in the same bed. And then I moved here, which was enough of a change to break up any potential monotony, plus we were hard at work putting that show together. And now …” He tucks a finger under my chin to tilt my face up and takes my mouth in a long, deep kiss. “Now I’m having fun with a new distraction. But yeah, it’s strange to see the same walls every day for so many days in a row. I have no complaints, though.”
I roll onto my belly and layer my hands over his pec so I can prop my chin there and look at his face. He grins at me, that hint of boyishness that’s such a fun contrast to this body that’s all man.
“Really?” I press. “No burning desire to hit the road again?”
He gives me a quizzical look and skims a hand down my back. Over the last week since the last of our barriers have fallen, I’ve learned that he’s a very tactile person, and he likes to touch me at every opportunity. “Are you trying to kick me out?”
With a laugh, I lever myself up to sitting and shake my head. “No. I just don’t want you getting bored.”
He hooks his arm around my waist and pulls me close, pressing a kiss to my rib cage. “I promise, I’m nowhere near bored.”
I skim a hand down his side. Because as much as he likes touching me, he practically purrs like a cat when I return the favor. This poor boy clearly hasn’t gotten enough affection in a long time, and now that he has it available, he’s trying to drown himself in it. It’s fun to watch the shifts and changes in his body when I touch him in different places, the way he turns toward my touch like a flower seeking the sun.
“Good,” I murmur, stroking down his hip to his thigh. He sighs and rolls onto his back, and I settle between his legs, running my hands up and down the thick muscles of his quads and then back up to his torso. As I move higher, stretching my body over his, he wraps his arms around me and traps me against his chest.
He lifts his head and pecks my lips, his eyebrows pinched as he studies my face. “What’s this all about? Are you getting bored?”
“No. Not bored, exactly.”
His lips tilt in a sardonic smile. “Oh, well, that’s so very reassuring.”
With a laugh, I press my hands into his chest, going back to sitting. “I just want to schedule more shows. Last week was amazing, and I want to do it again.”
He puts his hands behind his head, his biceps flexing with the movement, and lets out a chuckle when he sees me practically drooling. A month of him shirtless, including a week of totally naked, and I still can’t get enough of looking at his body. It’s a work of art.
With an unrepentant shrug, I meet his gaze. “You’re beautiful.”
His eyes soften, and he pulls one hand out and rests it on my thigh. “So are you.”
“Now about the next show …”
Chuckling, he plants his hands on the bed and pulls himself up to sitting, scooting back away from me. “I’ll make some calls right now. Ricky said we were welcome back anytime, but I think we probably want some variety.” After brushing a kiss across my forehead, he stands and heads to the living room where he left his phone. “Both our pages have been blowing up with requests for more performances and more videos,”