- Black Gold 2 - Double Black (27 page)

“All systems go?”

 

Cole nodded. “We should take our places.”

 

“A’ight. Let’s kick this—” Jett cut himself off before he said
shit
, aware it might seem too flippant on a day like this.

Cole snorted, noticing the omission. “Yeah, let’s kick it, Daddy-O.” As Jett followed Cole to the main hall, he thought of his precious Billy and his worshipped Goldie wrapped up in a wedding suit and coming down the aisle to meet him any minute.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the crowd until he heard a familiar voice. Jett looked to the front row and saw his former bandmates not twenty feet away. He covered his mouth with his hand and stared as Jack waved desperately at him like a kid at a passing train’s conductor, trying to be noticed and elicit a wave in return.
Jett obliged, and Jack grinned and elbowed Fatty before reaching across the huge drummer to smack Tourn. Jett saw him mouth,
I told you so.
Jett started toward them, but Cole grabbed his wrist, bringing him back to the moment. Everything was surreal. Jett couldn’t grasp the passage of time, but he could tell it was moving.
Cole’s sympathetic smile and raised eyebrow kept Jett focused. He could say hi to the boys after. This was reality, somehow, but he was home in New York, and his boys were here, and Jack was happy for him.
Any minute Goldie would be walking toward him to make really fucking huge promises.
Any minute Jett would be making really fucking huge promises of his own.
Jett peered around as he waited, absorbing the grand ambience of the setting, but it was lost on him. Nothing could hold his attention. Every atom awaited one thing.
Cole prodded Jett and pointed. Goldie was walking up the aisle with Ellen on his arm. He looked so beautiful Jett thought he might be dreaming. He could barely make out Goldie’s features behind the intricate veil, but the dancer’s grace and flawless body were displayed to perfection by the slow march and Goldie’s closely tailored suit.

Jett ached with something bigger than love or possessiveness, something that encompassed both but took up so much space inside him, he felt like he’d burst at the seams. If he could tear his gaze from Goldie’s approach, he thought he would look down and see light flowing from him in transformative rays like that scene in the cartoon version of
Beauty and the Beast
. Jett laughed at the picture of himself as a Disney hero.

Cole gave Jett’s hand a quick squeeze, reminding him to step forward and meet Goldie at the altar.
Goldie arrived with a soft smile. Ellen paused, then kissed Jett’s cheek before giving him her son’s hand.
Jett expected her to say something rude, but she smiled and moved next to Jack, who tripped over himself helping her into her seat. She raised a brow and gave Jack an appraising once-over.
Goldie watched them too, then gave Jett an amused look. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Goldilocks.” Jett wished the veil wasn’t in the way. He suspected Goldie’d worn one just so Jett had to follow protocol and couldn’t plant a kiss on him before the vows were complete.

It had been a good call on his part.
The crowd murmured approval, and Jett closed his eyes to soak it up. He opened his eyes to shoot a quick look at his son and found him smiling. There was no mistaking how much this wedding and the positive public sentiment around it meant to him and Kyle, who was holding Cole’s hand. It wasn’t why Jett was doing this, but it was one more reason this was the best thing he’d ever done.
Jett returned the boys’ smiles, squeezed Goldie’s hand, and walked forward to stand before the minister.

She was a lesbian pastor of a liberal church. When she saw on TV that they were engaged, she had called Robbie and offered to do the ceremony. Her sexuality made Jett mind a lot less that she believed in God.

Then again, when Jett looked over at the beauty of Goldie’s face behind the filmy veil, he thought maybe there was a God after all. If not, there was
something
good out there smiling on him. He sure as fuck didn’t deserve this life.

As she began the ceremony, Jett realized he didn’t care about the words. He didn’t care that they’d filed paperwork with the government or that this was a legally approved ceremony. He didn’t even care that their loved ones were here to witness it.

The only thing that mattered was that Goldie had said yes. Goldie loved him this much. For the rest of his life, he would belong to a person whose flaws only made him perfect for Jett.

Accepting Goldie’s bouquet, Robbie chuckled. Then he looked away, keeping an eye on the crowd like he was ready to tackle anyone who interrupted.
Goldie beamed. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Jett. They stared at each other as the minister talked.

Each time Goldie’s eyes grew wet, he blinked away the tears, probably worried he’d smudge. He squeezed Jett’s hand, his lips pressed together like he wasn’t sure he could trust himself to stay quiet. Excitement seemed to vibrate from his lithe body until there was an expectant silence.

Jett realized belatedly it was time for his vows. He opened his eyes wide as he snapped out of it and looked around, taking in the dozens of familiar faces staring back. Everyone Goldie invited had come, including some rockers even Jett idolized. He felt humbled by the approval radiating from these witnesses and buoyed by it, as though this really was a holy bond.

Trembling, Jett refocused on Goldie and felt strength flow into him, steadying his hands and voice. “I stand before you, my beloved, with nothing to offer but myself, scarred, broken, and bruised. But I offer it to you: everything I am or was or will be. I offer it with both hands, with nothing to prove and nothing to hide. And it is you, William Waldorf Goldean, that I will love, honor, and obey, until I am dust. This I swear to you today before these witnesses, from the bottom of my heart.”

With no backup or assistance, Goldie sang quietly the raw, impassioned version of “Rock ’n’ Roll Suicide” that had been Jett’s first clue of the depth of Goldie’s love for him. He gazed into Jett’s eyes as his rich voice reverberated from the corners of the room, each verse building on the echoes of the one before.

The familiar words transported Jett to the moment he’d first heard Goldie singing the sweet promises of togetherness and support no matter what Jett might put him through. As Goldie wailed the final chorus to their guests, Jett watched in love-struck awe, more certain than ever that this wedding was what he wanted.

After he finished, Goldie took a deep breath and said quietly, “Jett, with me, you’ll never be alone. Will you be with me? I love you.”
Jett couldn’t stop himself from reaching for Goldie and pulling him into his arms. He choked out a hoarse, “I love you. I’ll be with you forever. Swear you’ll never give up on me.”
“I’ll never give up on you. Promise me you’ll never tell me no.” Goldie pulled up his veil so he could kiss Jett, then returned to his position. “I will always love you, Jett. Forever.”
“I promise.” Jett blushed at the words, thinking about the meaning behind them that few here would guess. None of these people knew the things Goldie might ask of him, the things Jett would eagerly give.
As the minister spoke, Jett tried to focus on her words, but all he registered was the last part: “I now pronounce you legally wed in the eyes of God, man, and the state of New York. Gentlemen, you may kiss each other.
Again
.”
There was a trace of amusement in that final word, but Jett was already looking for the hem of Goldie’s veil to raise it for the final time and look at that perfect face with nothing between them. He noticed the artful makeup but imagined him without it, thought of the sweet, sleepy-eyed man he woke up next to every morning. Then he leaned in and touched his lips to Goldie’s amid raucous applause and a war whoop that could only be Jack.

Goldie squeezed him tightly, then backed away for their presentation to the guests. Everyone stood and applauded as they walked down the aisle, including Jett’s old bandmates. Though Jett felt adrift in the luxurious space, Goldie knew where they were going. While the tables and food were set out, Jett and Goldie would have pictures taken with their family.

Between shots, Goldie kissed Jett. “We’re married, Jett! We did it. We’re married.”

Jett laughed at Goldie’s enthusiasm, elated but still feeling lost. “We fucking did, baby.” Jett kissed Goldie’s cheek for the photographer, holding it until the flash, then nibbled Goldie’s ear to provoke a moan. “You’re my lord and master now, huh? It’s formal.”

“Not quite yet.” Goldie grinned for the camera, then slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a gold chain leash. Goldie had asked Jett to wear one of his dog collars with his black leather suit. Now he knew why.

Goldie hooked the leash through the collar loop with a devious grin. “There, now I’m your master.”

The camera flashed, capturing Jett’s slack-jawed moment of shock. The way Goldie tugged the leash sent a pulse of want straight to Jett’s cock. The next flash captured him assaulting Goldie’s lips.

Then Jett lost track of the camera, the guests, and everything but how hot and yielding Goldie’s mouth felt. This was his now, always, and he belonged.

“Hey, hey, wait for the honeymoon. Goldie’s in white, so I know you two have been saving yourselves.” Cole smirked. “You’ve still got your reception to go to.”
When Goldie laughed and kissed Jett, seeming unconcerned by everyone else, Cole took it as his cue to keep walking.
This was Goldie’s day, and if he wanted to OD on PDA, Jett could get behind it. Goldie had planned and worked hard on every detail—including making sure there would be beer and pizza available at their sit-down dinner in the Oak Room. Now that Jett saw his former bandmates watching from the periphery, he understood why that had been important.
It was strange Goldie hadn’t mentioned the boys were invited. Then again, Goldie probably doubted they’d show. Jett would’ve obsessed, inviting and uninviting the band twelve times before the big day arrived. In the end, Goldie was right as usual.
Jett’s eyes misted as he wrapped his head around the significance of their presence. Sensitive to the shift of mood, Goldie pulled Jett in by his leash for another rough tongue-fucking.
“So I’m your ball and chain now. How does it feel?”

“Like home.”

Sometimes the impossible turned out to be the improbable. It kept life exciting. And, Jett thought, it gave him something to fight for. A grown man could only spend so much time getting high and having sex. Making the impossible happen seemed like a good fit for his third hobby.

Next week, this wedding would be on every magazine cover. Instead of articles speculating whether leopards changed their spots, there would be interviews with Jett relating his newfound passion for activism and deep love for Goldie and Cole. Jett was in New York City,
his
city, in the Plaza Hotel like he and Goldie’s first night together. The future was wide open, full of Goldie’s dreams for a family, Jett’s dreams for new and exciting collaborations, and the profound realization that there was nothing left to want.

They had it all.

 

Loose Id Titles by Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid

Celibacy NOW
I’ll Be Your Man
Le Jazz Hot

* * * *

The BLACK GOLD Series
Black Gold
Double Black

* * * *
Clancy Nacht
A Model Boyfriend
About the Authors
Clancy Nacht

Clancy Nacht squeezes writing in amongst her Web development day job, her husband, and her three feral rescue cats. Living in Austin, she indulges her love of indie music, photography, and constant influx of new faces a college town provides.

With a major in Journalism, she has written for newspapers and magazines but did not delve into professional erotic writing until 2009. Since then she has been published by Ravenous Romance, Noble Romance, and Dreamspinner Press.

She watches “House” for the House/Wilson moments, but secretly thinks House should get with Chase, considers sarcasm a fine art, truly believes the zombie apocalypse is coming, and watches a lot of porn.

And she will never, ever grow up.
Thursday Euclid

The Thursday Euclid (scientific name
T. Euclidus
) is a strange and elusive creature dwelling in the Texas Gulf Coast region. Frequently mistaken for Bigfoot, Chupacabra, or the monster of the week, T. Euclidus is, in fact, a 20-something black sheep with a penchant for indie music, fedoras, and hot and sour soup.