Page 39 of Raise Me Up

“Whatdidyou come here for, Beau?” I ask firmly.

He leaves me waiting in anticipation, so I position myself over him on the bed. He sucks in a breath and holds it as fear glints in his eyes. I want to strangle it. I want to take on all his problems and free him from his troubles.

I touch my fingers to his neck, right over his thudding pulse. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll find someone more willing to talk. I have your band manager’s number in my phone.”

He swallows. “You fuck him, too?”

A growl threatens to rip from me, but he mumbles a soft “kidding” before my anger can lash out.

Curling my hand around his neck, I bring my mouth to his ear. “You better start talking, or I’m going to fuckyouuntil your ass is raw.”

He tips his head up to expose more of his neck. “Joke’s on you. I choose the ass fucking.”

“Beau."

“Yeah. Yeah.” He shuts his eyes. “I’m done, okay? I got kicked out.”

“Kicked out,” I repeat, blinking down at him.

“Out of the band. They were tired of my shit.”

My brows furrow. “Who’s they? What shit?”

If it’s drugs or alcohol, I can’t be involved. Doesn’t mean I won’t point Beau toward resources, but after walking in on the corpse of my father after years of his drunken abuse, I can’t go there ever again.

“Everyone. I couldn’t perform,” Beau replies, striving to keep his tone light.

I remember watching him from the side stage the first time Lithos opened for us and thinking he had a permanent place in the music industry. That his career would soar. It was part of the reason I stopped responding to his texts. I knew he was going places. He didn’t need me to fuck up his focus.

And now he’s here, laid out in my bed, a place I never imagined I’d find him, doing his best to keep secrets that are obviously impacting his mental health.

“What changed?” I ask.

He winces, and I feel his right hand flex against my thigh. “Everything.”

Eager to free him from this invisible pain, I brush my fingers through his hair. Then I lean down to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Liam.” His hands touch lightly against my sides, slowly working their way to spread over my back.

“What do you need?”

I’ve never been this gentle with him, but tonight is different. He’s obviously hurting. Still clinging to secrets, too.

“Less talking. More touching.”

His desperate words trigger me into action. I reach back to grab his wrists and plant them on the bed above his head. When I seal our hips together, I drag my lips over his neck.

Beau gasps my name as I kiss my way down his body, shoving his hands away when he tries to touch me again.

“Sorry. Forgot you don’t like that. You can tie me up like you used to.”

Hovering over the ridge of his cock in his sweats, I lift my head to take in his lust-filled expression. I’m tempted to fetch my rope, but the thought of removing myself from him right now doesn’t please me. Especially when I think about how long he’s been sitting in the dark all alone.

“Hands to yourself or I stop.” I tug his pants down and run my tongue from base to tip of his hard cock. His head drops on a moan, and I catch his fingers curling into his palms.

If this is what he needs, who am I to deny him pleasure? Maybe after an orgasm, he’ll be more willing to open up to me.

Every time he tenses up like he’s about to come, I pull away. I smirk as he whines for my mouth to return to his skin. “Fuck, Liam. I need it.”