Looking At Forever (The Rock Gods Book 4) (16 page)

“Don’t be,” Rooster said. “I remember a night not too long ago, you helped me when I was drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk,” Wheland said.

Rooster smiled and lifted the sheets for Wheland to slide beneath them again, then moved in behind him from the other side of the bed. Wheland felt the bed dip when Rooster joined him. Knowing he was there gave him a sense of peace that he’d grown accustomed to having at night. What would he do when he was on tour and Rooster wasn’t with him?

“Sonny?”

Rooster nuzzled his face into the hair at Wheland’s nape. “You okay, babe?” Rooster asked. “Are you feeling sick?”

“I wish it could be like this all the time,” he said. “Do you ever think about that?”

“I think about it all the time, Mick.”

Rooster caressed the back of Wheland’s head. The touch was soothing and Wheland closed his eyes, thinking about what it might be like to have Rooster with him long term.

“I don’t want to lose what I have with you,” Wheland said.

“Is that the alcohol talking?” Rooster asked.

“I’m trying to be serious here,” Wheland said.

Rooster’s arms squeezed around Wheland’s chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. Rooster drew in a long breath and could feel the tears stinging at his eyes.

“That’s what you say now, but I’ll be on the road a long fucking time,” Wheland said. “You’ll get tired of waiting.”

Rooster tugged on Wheland’s shoulder and rolled him over to face him. “Hey, I’m
not
going anywhere.”

“God, I hate the sound of myself right now,” Wheland said. “I’m acting like a needy bitch.”

“You need to relax,” Rooster said. “You’re letting all the booze running through your veins fuck with your head.”

Wheland fully opened up his eyes. “I didn’t have that much to drink, did I?” Wheland asked.

“I counted seven shots of tequila and numerous glasses of beer,” Rooster said.

“You were counting?” Wheland asked.

“Someone needs to watch over you,” Rooster smiled.

“I don’t need babysitting,” Wheland scoffed.

“That’s not what I was doing,” Rooster said, still grinning. “I was merely paying attention in case you needed help.”

“And you think you were sober?” Wheland asked.

“I did one shot of tequila and drank two glasses of beer,” Rooster said. “Plus, I ate an enormous piece of steak. I was more than sober enough to drive your sorry ass home.”

“So, I need to be babysat
and
I have a sorry ass?” Wheland asked.

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” Rooster said.

Wheland climbed up over Rooster and pinned him to the mattress with his muscled form; his hands gripping Rooster’s wrists above his head, his bare chest rubbing against Rooster’s. The friction was delicious and for a moment, Wheland forgot he was annoyed with Rooster. Wheland inhaled slowly and collected his thoughts. “I’ve got something to put in your mouth,” Wheland said, looking down into Rooster’s eyes and rocking his hips to glide his erection alongside Rooster’s thickening cock.

Rooster thrust up into Wheland and both of them moaned.

“Your ass is sexy as hell,” Rooster said. “I’m also quite fond of your cock, too. In fact... never mind.”

“Never mind what?” Wheland asked.

“I’m not feeding your oversized ego anymore tonight,” Rooster said.

Wheland smirked, then leaned forward and nibbled on Rooster’s bottom lip. His tongue darted from between his lips and licked at the seam of Rooster’s mouth. Rooster partially opened for him and they shared a heated breath. Wheland’s heart was thumping behind his ribs. He wondered if Rooster could feel it. Wheland’s hands shifted from Rooster’s wrists and he twined their fingers together. The brush of lips was soft, almost reverent, and Rooster’s shivered.

“Christ, Sonny,” Wheland sighed, elongating his lover’s name. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“I feel it too, Mick,” Rooster said. “Every last bit of it.”

Wheland released Rooster’s fingers and slid lower. He dropped his head to Rooster’s shoulder and made a humming sound, as Rooster’s arms circled his back and drifted lower to cup both his ass cheeks.

“Will you come visit me while I’m on tour?” Wheland asked.

“Of course,” Rooster said.

Wheland was silent for a while, contemplating the right words to use and how Rooster might respond to hearing them.

“What’s on your mind, Mick?”

“I don’t want anyone else,” Wheland said.

“Me, neither,” Rooster said.

Wheland lifted his head and looked into Rooster’s eyes. “You mean that?”

“I do, and I believe I’ve already mentioned it,” Rooster said with a nod.

“Then, there won’t be anyone while I’m gone?” Wheland asked.

“Is that what you’ve been worried about?” Rooster asked.

“I’ve never really had one steady person in my life,” Wheland said. “But, that’s what I want with you. Are you cool with that?”

Rooster tipped Wheland’s head and smiled against his lips. “I was hoping we both wanted the same thing,” Rooster said. “And I’m happy to hear we do.”

“Then, we’re a couple?” Wheland asked.

It’s the way it had felt between them for a long time now, but Rooster was overjoyed to hear Wheland use that magical word: couple. It had a beautiful meaning behind it and Rooster sure as hell hoped this wasn’t the alcohol talking and Wheland wouldn’t remember having this conversation in the morning.

“I’d love to be your partner, Mick,” Rooster said and kissed the top of Wheland’s head.

“Go big or go home,”
Rooster thought to himself.

Chapter Twelve

“I don’t understand why Rooster won’t come with you on the tour,” Cooper said, grabbing another guitar case from Wheland’s studio and loading it into a large moving crate.

“Living on the road isn’t his thing,” Wheland said with a shrug. He was beginning to wish he hadn’t asked Cooper to help him sort through his prized guitars to select the instruments best suited for the tour. The amount of grief Cooper was laying on him about Rooster’s decision to remain in L.A. was pissing him off. Not to mention, talking about it only reminded Wheland he had just a couple of weeks left before he had to hop on the band plane and fly to New York City to kick off the tour.

“I’m just surprised he doesn’t want to be with you,” Cooper said, walking back in to the storage room inside Wheland’s studio. “Know what I’m saying? I thought you two were... tight, that’s all.”

Wheland got in front of Cooper’s face and stopped his progression with a firm hand pressed into a pectoral muscle. “Are you looking to start this tour with a black eye?” Wheland asked through clenched teeth.

Cooper shoved Wheland’s hand off his chest. “Back the fuck off,” Cooper said. “I’m just looking out for you, so stop being such an asshole.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty, little head about me,” Wheland said. “What I have with Sonny is my business, not yours.”

Cooper stepped in front of Wheland again. “You listen to me,” Cooper spat. “Nine months of you acting like a fucking prick is
not
an option. Got it? So, whatever you need to do to adjust your attitude before we board that plane, you better fucking do it.” Cooper made a show of bumping in to Wheland’s shoulder as he walked by him on his way to the stairs. “I’m done. You can finish this up by yourself.”

Wheland cursed under his breath and started back in on the task at hand. It took another hour before Wheland finally loaded the last guitar: Lucille. There hadn’t been a tour yet that Wheland hadn’t brought his favorite lady along for the ride, and what a ride this tour promised to be with Black Ice sharing the stage. And fuck if he didn’t want to share that all with Rooster as well. Wheland clamped his jaw tight and exhaled loudly. He hated the fact Rooster wouldn’t be a full-time companion for him; hated the fact he couldn’t change Rooster’s mind about it, too. What the fuck was he thinking getting involved with Rooster? He never should have allowed the man to get under his skin the way he was now.

Fuck!

Once he finished with his gear Wheland sent the band equipment manager, Spumoni, a text message telling him his crates were ready. A moment later, Spumoni replied; saying the crew would be by the next day with a truck to pick it all up for the tour.

One step closer to leaving, Wheland thought, as he walked up the stairs to find Rooster. All that was left now was to pack up his clothing and personal stuff. And then it would be time to leave Rooster – for nine long months. The timing for this seemed cruel.

Wheland and Rooster had agreed there would be no big send off or mushy good-byes for them when Wheland left for the tour. Wheland would simply give Rooster a kiss and walk out his front door to the waiting limousine with the rest of his band members. That was the original plan, and they both thought it would be perfect. But what ended up happening was a little different and proved to be a whole lot better.

“Are you sure you have everything?” Rooster asked Wheland on their way to the foyer.

“Far as I know,” Wheland said. He dropped his backpack to the marble floor and slid an arm around Rooster’s waist. He stepped closer to Rooster; his fingers traced over Rooster’s face, as if storing every detail to memory. Emotion began to sting at his eyes and his mouth opened to say something and Rooster pressed his fingers to Wheland’s lips.

“Don’t say anything more,” Rooster whispered beside Wheland’s ear. Then he slipped a thigh between Wheland’s legs and pressed his back to the wall in the foyer. Rooster licked at the skin below Wheland’s ear, then sunk his teeth into the spot before sucking on the flesh as hard as he could.

“Babe, what are you doing?” Wheland asked on a moan. His head rolled against the wall.

“Marking what’s mine,” Rooster said.

Rooster’s hand began palming Wheland’s groin, then he dropped to his knees on the floor. Wheland closed his eyes, as he felt the button of his jeans unfasten and his zipper being drawn down. A breath later, Rooster took Wheland’s cock into his mouth.

“Oh, fuckkkkk..” Wheland hissed. His fingers combed through the soft hair at the top of Rooster’s head, fisting the strands in his hand, then he pulled Rooster’s head off of his cock with a pop. “You know the guys are outside waiting in the car, right?”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Rooster said. “How about you?”

Wheland took a second to contemplate his answer, then his lips lifted in a lop-sided smile, and his hand directed Rooster’s mouth back to his cock.

“Do me,” Wheland said. “They can fucking wait.”

Rooster kept his gaze lifted to Wheland’s. The eye contact did crazy and wonderful things to Wheland’s heart, as did watching Rooster pleasuring him. Wheland loved the sight of Rooster’s mouth stretching to take him whole and the quick glimpses of his skilled tongue as it lashed out over the tip of his cock and circled around his shaft. It took less than three minutes for Rooster to have Wheland dangling on the precipice of orgasm.

“Jesussss, Sonny, I’m right there,” Wheland sighed. “Right. Fucking. There.”

Rooster took Wheland all the way to the root and his fingers wrapped around Wheland’s balls and tugged. That simple touch had Wheland crashing. He cried out as his orgasm took him and thrust his cock into the back of Rooster’s throat, emptying everything he had inside him. Rooster remained on his knees, milking Wheland through the aftershocks, then he rose to his feet, nose to nose with Wheland. Warm brown eyes focused on Wheland and the power behind that gaze made Wheland shudder. He ran the pad of his thumb across Rooster’s well-used lips, then leaned in for a kiss that was filled with hunger, lust, and love.

Love?

As soon as the emotion registered in Wheland’s brain, he pulled back from the kiss as if he’d been electrocuted.

“What’s wrong?” Rooster asked.

“Besides the fact I have to walk away from you and
this
? Not a damn thing,” Wheland said, the sarcasm dripping off each of his words. He opened up his front door and faced Rooster. “I’ll message you when we get to New York.”

“Sounds good,” Rooster said. His fingers lightly touched the tender spot on Wheland’s neck, now turning deep shades of red and purple. “Everything about the tour will be incredible, Mick. Relax and enjoy it.”

Wheland nodded. “I hope you’re right,” Wheland said. “I’d feel a lot better if I could share this with you. That’s all.”

“If I can adjust the recording schedule with my band, I will,” Rooster said. “But, I won’t make promises I can’t keep.”

“I don’t ever want you to do that with me,” Wheland said.

Wheland’s fingers moved down to circle Rooster’s throat and softly caressed the warm skin. One more brush of lips and Wheland was out the door; still tucking himself back inside his pants. A few steps before he reached the stretch limo, the back door flew open and Alex’s head popped in to view.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Alex asked. “We’ve been sitting out here waiting while you and Roostarelli got one off?”

Wheland ignored Alex’s comment and climbed into the back of the car; squeezing in between Cooper and Tony. It took seconds for Cooper to notice the red mark blooming on his neck.

“Looks like your boy pissed on his tree, too,” Cooper said, trying to touch the area of red skin on Wheland.

Wheland slapped Cooper’s hand away and glared at him. “All of you can fuck off.”

“Rooster wouldn’t have to mark his territory if he’d tagged along with us,” Cooper said.

“Speaking of tagging along, where is your Boy Wonder?” Wheland asked Cooper.

“Jay is flying out tomorrow with Chase and Danni,” Cooper said.

“We’ve got a media blitz planned for tomorrow,” Alex said to everyone in the car. “We’ll be starting early with the interviews on the morning talk shows and end the day with a short, live set on the late night shows. Day after tomorrow is a stage rehearsal at Radio City Music Hall and then the show after that.”

“Sounds like fun,” Wheland said, and actually it did, but it would be far better if Rooster was by his side to experience it with him.

“There’ll be a lot of media at the show, too; doing interviews before and after with us and Dagger’s band,” Alex said. “So, make yourself available and don’t say anything stupid. Remember, you’re representing the band.”

“Yes, Dad,” Wheland said.

Alex didn’t say anything, but the angry glare he gave to Wheland said enough. Tony elbowed him in the ribs and chuckled.
“Yeah, this was going to be a long tour,”
Wheland thought. He glanced at his cell phone and wondered if it was too soon to text Rooster, since he hadn’t even arrived at the airport. He smiled at himself and slipped his phone into the front pocket of his button down shirt.

Once they were airborne, Wheland did pull out his cell phone and sent Rooster a text message.

“Miss you
,” Wheland typed.

“It’s been an hour,”
Rooster’s reply said and ended with a smiley face.

“Does that mean you’ve already forgotten me?”
Wheland typed.

“You are unforgettable,”
Rooster replied.

“LOL. You are too,”
Wheland said.
“Thanks for the special send-off you gave me at the door.”

“You’re welcome,”
Rooster said.
“Call me when you get to the hotel.”

“It will be late,”
Wheland typed.

“Don’t care how late it is,”
Rooster replied.
“I want to hear your voice before I go to sleep.”

Wheland smiled at Rooster’s last statement. His heart was overflowing with feelings for this man, to the point he was close to throwing the “L” word out on the table. As crazy as that sounded, Wheland’s gut was telling him this was the real deal with Rooster. If their relationship survived being apart for most of the next eight or nine months, then Wheland was confident in thinking Rooster would be by his side for the long haul. But surviving the next several months was key. It would take herculean efforts on both their parts to make it work long distance. Wheland was secure in saying he was up for the task, but was Rooster?

“I’ll call you later,”
Wheland answered.

“Get some sleep on the plane and we’ll talk soon.”
Rooster responded.

Wheland ended their conversation by simply typing in a capitalized letter “X” to signify a kiss and Rooster responded with the same. What he wouldn’t do for a real kiss from Rooster right now. Wheland sighed and slid his phone back to his pocket, then reclined his leather seat in the passenger compartment and closed his eyes. He was never good at sleeping on a plane, but maybe he’d get lucky today and have a sex dream about Rooster while he dozed.

A while later, Wheland woke with a kick to the bottom of his foot. When his eyes opened he saw Cooper staring back from the seat opposite him.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” Wheland asked, pushing himself to an upright position in his seat. “Are we getting ready to land?”

“I think we’re still about an hour or so out from JFK,” Cooper said.

“Then, why’d you wake me up?” Wheland asked. “I was having a good dream.”

“Apparently,” Cooper said with a smile; his eyes dropping to Wheland’s slightly tented jeans. “Were you dreaming about Rooster?”

“Why are you asking me that?” Wheland asked Cooper.

Cooper shrugged. “I was making a lame attempt at asking how things are going with you and Roostarelli,” Cooper said. “You and I haven’t had much time to talk about it, so I was wondering.”

Wheland shifted in his seat. His eyes studied Cooper, trying to figure out his intentions, but he genuinely seemed interested. “Everything is fine.”

“
Fine
? That’s how you want to describe it?” Cooper asked. “The guy has been living with you for a couple months now and you’re describing the situation as fine? I’m sure he’d be thrilled to know that.”