Page 85 of The Prodigal Son

But none of those things are as tough as seeing my hot, older boyfriend at the end of the hall behind the stage at the arena andnotbeing able to run into his arms and kiss him to death. That’s just fucking torture.

Jensen looks so good as he stands with his hands in his pockets, watching me walk down the hall with the rest of my band behind me. Backstage is too fucking crowded. Why are there so many people around? They’re all the crew and security and workers, none of whom need to see me kissing another man. Phones would come out so fast and ruin everything.

I lock eyes with Jensen as I approach him, and I know he’s feeling the same pain. I put out a hand for a cordial handshake.

“Glad you could make it,” I say with a beaming smile. He grips my hand so tight it hurts, and we give each other one of those awkward handshake hug things that guys do.

“Thanks for the invite,” he replies, his eyes skating around the room as if to see everyone’s reaction to our greeting.

Lola gives me a sad smile. “I’ll let you have the shower in the bus first,” she says with a hand on my arm. “Just don’t take too long. We have to be back and ready for the show by five.” Then she gives me a wink and walks off with the rest of the band.

Subtle. What a goddess.

“I love you,” I mouth to her while no one is paying attention.

Then I turn to Jensen. “Care to have a beer with me while I get ready for the show?”

He shrugs. “Sure.”

It feels like we’re performing for an audience that isn’t even paying attention. I walk first toward the back door, and Jensen follows. This early before the show, when the fans aren’t even here yet, it’s safe to come and go through the parking lot. Later tonight, it will be a madhouse out here.

Jensen and I don’t speak on the trek to the bus. The anxious energy between us is palpable. Our feet move faster and faster with each step. When we reach the bus, the security guard outside opens the door for me and I thank him. His presence definitely means we need to keep it down inside.

“I’ve got beer. You like Shiner, right?” I ask Jensen as I climb the stairs.

“Sure,” he replies.

Then, a moment later, the bus door is closed and we’re alone. I spin on my heels and launch myself into his arms. His hands hold my face, knocking my cowboy hat to the floor as his mouth finds mine. Ravenously, he kisses me, licking his way into my mouth and nibbling on my lips.

My ass hits the counter as he backs me up. Then I push him toward the recliners and he falls into one. We barely break our kiss for a moment before I’m in his lap, kissing him hard again.

“Eight days has never felt so long in my life,” he mumbles against my mouth.

His hands tug on my Wranglers, and I grind myself against him as my cock swells behind the zipper. His mouth travels from my lips and down my jaw, biting me through the short hair. When he reaches my neck, he sucks hard on the tender, stubbly flesh and it takes everything in me to bite back my whimper.

“I’ve got time before the show,” I whisper. “Take me to the bedroom.”

He pauses, staring into my eyes with desire. “Not yet.”

“What do you meannot yet?” I ask with surprise. “I’ve waited eight damn days.”

He chuckles before giving me a peck on the lips. “I have something for you.”

“Is it an orgasm? Because if it’s not, I don’t want it.”

He smacks my ass playfully. “Get up. It’s in my pocket.”

With curiosity, I stand from his lap and lean against the counter and wait. He stands and I see not only the bulge in his jeans from his cock but also the bulge in his pocket. Consider my interest piqued.

I stare at him with furrowed brows as he pulls it out. “It’s a good thing you gave me backstage access because I was afraid I wouldn’t make it through security with this.”

My brows pinch even more. It’s a red velvet satchel. He loosens the top and pulls out a glass, mushroom-shaped plug.

“Oh, honey, the answer is yes,” I say, holding back a laugh.

He steps up to me. “You already know what I’m going to say,” he says with a sexy rasp in his voice.

“You want me to wear that while I’m onstage, don’t you?” I ask, gazing into his eyes. My cock throbs in my pants at the idea.

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