It’s become a favorite of mine too.
It’s risky in LA. We could be seen. We could be photographed. But I don’t mind taking this type of risk.
I don’t mind at all, because the risks the man I love takes are ones that have to do with love. Never safety. Never his body. Never his life.
His risks are all about putting his heart on the line, and maybe his privacy. But our balcony’s high enough, with trees and foliage, and also, I don’t care.
What’s the worst that could happen?
The world finds out that I fuck the man I love?
Let them know. Because I can’t think of anything better than loving and fucking the same person every day.
We stand. He sheds his shorts and sets his elbows on the railing.
I undo my pants, stroke my cock, and grab the lube from the nearby table. As he watches me slick up my dick, Stone murmurs, “Get inside me. I’m so ready.”
I press my body against him, cage him in, and line up my cock. I kiss his neck as I work the head of my dick into him, my skin sizzling with need, my chest flushed.
My eyes close, and I let out a long, shuddery breath. “Yes, this is good.”
“So good,” he groans as I push deeper. He clenches around me at first, tight and hot. “Give it to me hard.”
“Oh, babe, you did miss me,” I say when Stone moans so loudly that I’m sure they can hear him across the ocean.
And then, I slide all the way home.
It’s filthy bliss.
I wrap a hand around his hip, my fingers digging in, the other hand coiling over his shoulder.
I move in him.
His skin is hot.
My blood is tight.
And we burn together, grabbing and grappling and loving.
In no time, my fist is curled tight around his cock and I’m jacking him off in my hand.
Doesn’t take long for him. Doesn’t take long at all until his release hits my palm.
Seconds later, I’m coming inside him, my world blurring into white-hot pleasure as I follow him to the land of orgasms.
I slump over him, savoring the feel of his warm body, and wrap my arms around my man. “It’s good to have you back home, babe,” I say.
“Good to be here.”
Stone
We head to the bathroom and shower, pull on shorts and eat dinner, and then we snuggle in bed, because that’s what we do. We talk, catching up on all the things we haven’t caught up on through our chats on FaceTime or our text messages.
I yawn, jet lag assaulting me, and it’s only nine. “I’m gonna crash, J.” My eyes flutter closed, but before I drift off, I need to remind him of something. “You didn’t forget I’m going to Vegas this weekend for a one-night-only show?”
Jackson smiles. “I know you are.”
“Why don’t you come with me?”
“Vegas. You and me. Sounds like trouble.”
“Sounds like the best weekend ever,” I say, getting sleepier.
“Maybe if we can fly on your plane,” he says playfully.
“Like we’d do anything else, especially now that I’ve got it all tricked out to be as green as a plane can be.”
“And stay on the penthouse level of The Extravagant.”
“We’ll do it all like we did the last time we were there. You in?”
“All in.”
He wraps an arm around me, and my eyes float closed once more as I breathe in his scent. Cedar and falling snow. My mind returns to the first night I ever got close enough to know what he smelled like. I love that smell. I want to inhale it every single day for the rest of my life.
I shift onto my side, meeting Jackson’s gaze once more before I fall asleep. “You know I want you with me always. Every day. You know that, right?”
“Every day?” he murmurs, all soft and sexy.
I nod, dropping a kiss on his lips. “Every day for the rest of my life.”
As I fade into sleep, I’m pretty sure Jackson says, “That can be arranged.”
Jackson
The night of his show, I’m not nervous. Nor am I cocky. I am, quite simply, full of faith.
Faith in what he wants.
What I want.
What we can have together.
As I watch Stone’s performance from the wings, once my nightly spot, I let the music wash over me, fill me, give me hope.
When Stone launches into the song right before “Something Fierce,” I slip away to find Candi.
She mics me up, then sets her hands on my shoulders. “Ready?” She’s all mama hen with her chick, like usual.
I nod, telling her I’m good to go.
When the song ends, Stone holds the final chord for long, delirious seconds of music and art and beauty, letting it reverberate through the theater.
“Damn, it’s good to be back here,” he says to the crowd. “Remember the last time I was in your city?”
Not sure how many were actually here that epic night, but most of his fans know the story of us, and their cheers rain throughout the auditorium.
“Remember what went down?” He continues talking to the crowd. “I told my man that I loved him. I told him in a song. Told him he’s mine. And you know what? I wrote another song for him. ‘Something Fierce.’”
He strums a few notes.
But before he can play it, I’m taking my turn.
“That’s true.” My voice carries across the theater too, thanks to the mic.
Stone flinches and then turns his gaze on me as I stride across the stage. “Well, hello, handsome,” he says. He’s not a performer for nothing. He goes along with my surprise appearance in a snap.
I walk over to him, stopping a few feet away, my heart sprinting as thousands of his fans shout Jackstone. “You did tell everyone, and I was so damn happy,” I say. “And I told you I’d make you happy every day.”
“You sure do,” he says with a smile.
My chest tightens with emotion, but with certainty too. There are no doubts. I haven’t had any questions about us in the longest time.
Every day, I have answers, over and over again.
Beautiful answers that all start and end with Stone.
I waste no time.
But holy shit.
I was wrong about nerves. A cargo ship docks in the harbor of my chest, loaded full of them. But I push through the jitters as I get down on one knee in front of the whole theater.
The audience gasps.
“I want to keep making you happy every day for the rest of our lives,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady as my heart gallops away.
The crowd goes wild. Gasps. Awws. Shouts.
Stone’s eyes widen. He’s speechless at first. His lips part, but no sound comes out. Then, a few seconds later, he clears his throat, his voice husky. “Are you asking me to marry you in front of an entire audience?”
There is only one answer. “I am.”
Please say yes.
And since there’s no point in keeping that inside, I say it out loud. “Please say yes.”
He stares at me in wonder. “J, I’d have married you the night I told the world I loved you. I’m so ready to be your husband.”
Happiness bursts inside me like starlight. Joy fills every cell as I slide a platinum band on his finger. I rise, cup his cheeks, and kiss the man who’s going to be my husband.