Page 60 of Naughty Dreams
But then he removed it for the next request, “In the Air Tonight.” He chose a gospel blues approach, the Sons of Legion version. As his voice deepened and strengthened, Steve backed him with an electric guitar, connected to a small amp they’d pulled off the bus. When the drum section came in, Tal was there with his pad and foot pedal. Lonnie lifted hands to the sky, eyes closed as she swayed to the music in her chair.
“Wow, that was the shit,” Pete said, when they finished. He gave it the proper moment of reverence before he tossed a balled-up McDonald’s bag at DJ and jumped up. “Let’s go back to the pool. I want to get on that slide another few hundred times.”
DJ had changed into cut-off jean shorts, so he was ready and raced Pete to the pool. They jumped in, their splashing match becoming a full water battle as the others joined. Pete put DJ on his shoulders so he could face off with Lonnie and Steve.
DJ didn’t insult her by letting her win, but he was noticeably more gentle than when Tal took her place. As Steve, Pete and DJ rough housed, their tangled childhood roots showed. Though Tal was never excluded, Roy could see the differences DJ had pointed out. He somehow stood apart, and not just because he was half stoned.
But when the four men retired to a corner of the pool and started talking music, Tal’s differences disappeared. Steve sat on the pool edge, Lonnie in the water, her upper body resting against his calf. She listened raptly, and had as many valid opinions on their favorite bands as the bandmates themselves. Girl knew her shit.
Eventually, Tal moved to a lounger to zone out. Steve lifted Lonnie from the pool and bent to give her a piggy back ride. They headed toward their cabin, and Steve made her giggle as he did a little dance, spinning her around. She tightened her arms around his neck.
Pete and Zed, fellow sports fans, moved to available chairs to debate the best quarterbacks.
DJ had stayed in the water, but the gears were turning. His benevolent perusal of his people shifted into the bemused look Roy recognized.
He left the pool and picked up his notebook and pen from the table next to the sleeping Tal. After he spread a towel over his drummer and gave his head a fond stroke.
As he wandered off, Roy followed at a distance, giving him privacy, but closed the gap when DJ chose a hiking path that led to a wooden dock for a deep swimming hole. A wide creek fed it, water rushing over slick rocks to spill into and keep the pond deep enough. Several picnic shelters clustered around it, but DJ chose to sit on the end of the dock, putting his bare feet in the water.
Roy switched his radio to vibrate, so he wouldn’t disturb the kid’s creative process. Since most of his clients valued efforts to offer them the privacy they rarely had, he tried to be invisible when it was practical.
Before long, DJ started to write. Occasionally, he’d set aside the notebook, air playing a guitar to figure out the notes as he hummed to himself.
When a raccoon came to the water’s edge and drank, the creature gave DJ a curious look before disappearing back into the foliage. DJ was oblivious, but not as much as Roy thought.
“You’re really good at the unobtrusive thing.” DJ spoke without lifting his head. “But it’s funny…I’m starting to know when you’re here, even when I can’t see you.”
He dipped his head toward his shoulder, giving Roy his profile. “What do you think that means?”
“You’re the poet and romantic, not me.”
DJ’s lips curved, part promise, part mystery. “I think my subconscious and your subconscious hooked up a lot earlier than we did. Can you come sit with me, or do you have to stay there and watch for threats?”
Roy deemed the risk was minimal. For form’s sake, he offered a long-suffering sigh. DJ’s smile became a grin.
His thick-soled tread caused the planks to vibrate. When he stood next to DJ, DJ gave Roy a meaningful head-to-toe look, lingering at points in between that his currently seated position and Roy’s stance put in dangerous alignment.
Roy touched his face, fingertips moving to capture and tug one of the rampant curls. When DJ would have lifted a hand, probably to put it on Roy’s thigh, heading for that hazardous territory, Roy shook his head. “No.”
DJ’s hand dropped, his fingers curling against his own thigh. “Is that a Dom thing?” he asked in a throaty voice. “Intensify the effect of your touch by not allowing me to touch you?”
“What do you think?”
“It’s like my face has never been touched before.” His eyes half-closed and he took a shuddering breath. “Roy, you’re killing me. And giving me good song material. Obvious title. Denial.”
Roy’s humor was held as tight inside of him as he wanted to grip the kid’s hair. Instead he took his hand away and dropped to his heels to give DJ a piercing look. “That bad experience you had. The guy who wanted to take control, not as a Dom/sub thing. You haven’t told me all of it.’”
DJ’s gaze shifted toward the water, but a touch on his chin brought his eyes back to Roy. “I was stupid enough to let him tie me up before he started the whole ‘you think you’re something,but with me you’re nothing, you’re my bitch.’ He ignored my safeword. I had to play his game to get him to untie me.”
“What happened when he did?”
“I broke his jaw with his own paddle.” DJ lifted a shoulder. “I kind of lost it. Guess I’m lucky he didn’t press charges.”
Roy caressed his tense shoulder. “I would have broken his goddamn neck.”
“It’s possible he misunderstood what I wanted,” DJ admitted. “I wasn’t that great at communicating it, and he wasn’t that experienced as a Dom. I paid for his medical bills.”
“He didn’t respect your safeword. He deserved to have his jaw broken. The fact he didn’t press charges against you said he knew it. Don’t look away from me when I’m talking to you, Dory. Keep the hands down,” he repeated, when DJ started to lift them again.” DJ grimaced, but obeyed.
