SJ Frost A Little Bit Country

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A LITTLE BIT COUNTRY
by S.J. Frost

CHAPTER 1

“Goddamn it!”

Drawing his arm back, Ash snapped it forward again, whipping the
entertainment magazine across his dressing room. It hit the opposite wall,
landing in a heap of crumpled pages on the floor.

“What critic pissed you off now?” Jeremy asked, not bothering to look up from
tuning his Fender Telecaster guitar.

Ash turned on him. “It wasn’t a critic! I can handle those assholes. It was
freakin’ Jackson Abrams again.”

Laughter came from behind Ash. “After three years of bitching at each other in
the media, you should be even more used to him than the critics.”

Ash shot a glare over his shoulder at his drummer, Devin. “He gives me more
shit than the damn critics!” He lifted a hand, ticking his statements off on his
fingers as he spoke. “How I dress, the things I do, my hair-”

“Well, you kind of deserve it with your hair sometimes,” Devin said. His dark
brown gaze lifted to Ash’s yellow mohawk where streaks of red raced through
it. “Or a lot of times.”

Ash rolled his eyes at him and pointed at the mohawk. “Okay, I’ll give you this
didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to, but I rock a lot of cool hairstyles.” He
looked to his bass player. “You got my back on this one right, Chad?”

The bass player shook his head. “Dude, I don’t think I can. Since you change
your hair every time the wind blows, you’re gonna have a good style or two by
default, but I wouldn’t really call that a lot.”

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Ash disregarded both Chad and Devin with a flip of his hand. “Whatever. As if
you guys know anything about style.”

His voice teasing, Devin said, “Maybe we don’t, but it sounds like Jackson
does.”

Ash’s annoyance burst to life again. “I sure as fuck won’t take fashion advice
from a guy who wears shit-kicker cowboy boots and Wranglers. And who the
hell is he to criticize my hair when he hides his under that big ass cowboy hat
all the time?”

Jeremy rubbed a cloth over his guitar, polishing the body of it so the black
finish, painted with gray ghost flames, had a liquid shine. “Is that what he was
doing in the mag interview? Ripping on your hair again?”

Ash snatched a bottle of water off a table and dropped down on the couch
beside Jeremy. “No. He was saying how I’m not a good role model for young
people. Well no shit. What part of rock star doesn’t he get? I’m a performer,
not a babysitter.”

Chad walked across the room and picked up the magazine. “That was probably
his response to you saying last month that when his music career falls flat, he
can always sell himself to the highest bidding mother to marry her daughter
since everyone in Mayberry wants him for a son-in-law.”

Twirling a drumstick between his fingers, Devin snorted out a laugh. “Now that
was funny.”

Ash tossed an arm across the back of the couch. “I don’t know why the hell he
has to keep coming at me. And through the goddamn media! If he’s got things
he wants to say to me, he needs to do it to my face.”

Jeremy plucked the guitar strings to double check the tuning. “It’s not like he’d
get many chances to do that. You’re a rock star. He’s a country music star. We

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kinda run in separate circles, you know.”

“We’ve been to some of the same award shows,” Ash said.

“So what, you want him to start a pissing match with you on the red carpet?
The most bad boy he’ll ever taint his image with is what he does now, taunting
you from a distance, and even that isn’t much since he always manages to spin
it so he looks good and you look like the ass.”

Devin jumped back into the conversation. “Not that he has to spin it real hard
with how you let shit just fly out your mouth. But weren’t you the one who
started this whole thing to begin with?”

Ash let out a low grumble of agreement. It was true, he was the one who
started the “feud” with Jackson Abrams. But not intentionally. Sort of. Three
years ago, they both hit the scene in their respect music genres. He and his
band, From Ashes, kicking ass in the rock world, and Jackson…well, Jackson
doing whatever the hell country stars did. Jackson must’ve done it pretty well,
though, since his music extended beyond the country charts to crossover into
popular music.

When the Grammy Awards came around, From Ashes and Jackson were both
up for Best New Artist. And the Grammy went to…Jackson.

Not that he was really pissed off at losing the award to him. Even he had to
admit, to himself, never to anyone else, that Jackson’s music was damn good.
He wasn’t so stubborn he couldn’t appreciate Jackson’s talent, and there was
something else about the country singer…

Ash stopped the last thought before it went too far and veered it back toward
music. Still, even though he could admit Jackson was a hell of a musician, he
couldn’t say Jackson was better than him and his boys. When he was
interviewed after the Grammys about his band’s loss to Jackson and asked how
he felt about it, he replied, “Well, it is what it is. And it could be the better man
won, but not the better musician.”

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It seemed Mr. Good Boy Country Star didn’t like that comment real well and
fired back in an interview with, “Sounds like Ash Ivers…that’s his name, right?
Well, it sounds like he’s a bit of a sore loser. And that’s too bad. I hope
someday he learns how a man accepts his loses is what can really make him a
winner.”

And it was that kind of down-home-wholesome bullshit that pissed him off.
Jackson always came back at him with comments like that. When he heard
Jackson’s remark, he hit him back in his next interview with, “I don’t know how
to accept my losses, huh? Let’s get something straight. Not getting an award
for being America’s sweetheart doesn’t make me a loser. But what makes me a
winner is my record sales kicking his in the ass all the way to the bank.”

Jackson retorted with, “If I could ever have the honor to be America’s
sweetheart, nothing would make me prouder because I love this country. But it
sounds like Ash Ivers loves money, and I feel sorry for him for that. I make my
music for my fans, not for a bigger bank account.”

Always! Every freakin’ time Jackson twisted his words to make himself look like
the good guy. The man even wore a white damn cowboy hat! Well, beige, but
close enough.

The media ate up their animosity, doing their best to fuel their feud with
interviewers making sure each of them knew the latest comment from the
other and goading them to make more. He supposed it was good publicity, if
nothing else. There were fans on Jackson’s side who loved him for his always
gentlemanly responses. There were fans on his side who loved his “shove it”
attitude.

Ash grinned to himself. Actually, they made a pretty good team without even
knowing it. They each had both sides covered of what people liked.

Chad’s voice called him back to the moment.

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“Hey, Ash. Did you read the rest of this interview with him?”

“Why the hell would I?”

Chad walked slowly toward him, his gaze on the open magazine in his hands.
“Because right after he says you’re not a good role model, he says, ‘I’m not
sure the behavior Ash is known for is the best kind of image for the Songs for a
Cure Benefit, but I do give him a lot of credit doing this for charity. It gives me
hope knowing that as different as me and him are, we can put all that aside for
a greater good in helping to raise awareness and funds for HIV/AIDS research.
Because of that, it’ll be an honor for me to walk on the same stage as him’.”

Silence fell over the dressing room. Ash stared at his bass player, as if he
disbelieved what Chad had said.

Jeremy looked toward Ash. “Wow. That was, like…nice.”

Ash ignored Jeremy, his gaze still fixed on Chad. “Are you fucking with me?”

“No, dude. It looks like he’s playing Songs for a Cure, too.”

Devin pointed his drumstick at Ash. “You didn’t know that? Didn’t any of you
guys read the list of performers Kent gave us a couple weeks ago?”

Ash shook his head, still trying to come to terms with playing at the charity
concert with Jackson. He vaguely remembered their manager, Kent, giving him
the list of everyone else would be performing, but he’d only looked to see
when From Ashes was taking the stage, and since they were right after the
openers, he didn’t bother checking to see who else would be there. He didn’t
even know where the list was now. Probably in some stadium, cities away since
they were wrapping up their second tour and it was supposed to end at the
Songs for a Cure event in two weeks.

Jeremy knocked Ash on the arm with the back of his hand. “Hey, at least now
you’ll have your chance to get in his face and put an end to all this crap. It

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won’t be like at an award show. I think Kent said we were getting in a couple
days before the concert and there’s gonna be a lot of down time. And you
won’t be getting stalked by cameras in the artists’ area, so you can tell him to
knock it off without making an ass of yourself in front of the paparazzi.”

“Yeah,” Ash said softly.

Devin twisted around in his chair to glare at Chad. “Way to go. You just totally
shot his mood with that little announcement and we need to hit the stage in
less than ten.”

Chad held up his hands in a helpless gesture, still holding the magazine in one.
“I was just letting him know.”

Ash took a breath to snap himself back to the moment. “It’s cool. Like it
matters if Jackson’s there. But if he thinks I’m not a good image for the concert,
then what’s he?”

Jeremy shrugged. “He’s popular as hell, though, and that’s what the promoters
and organizers were looking for. They dipped into every scene, rock, rap, pop,
country, to try to pull out the hottest performers.”

“I guess, but it still seems like something he’d be more likely to turn down than
accept.”

“Either way, you’ll get your chance to talk to him face to face,” Jeremy said.

Ash nodded. He exhaled a sigh and slapped Jeremy on the knee, pushing off it
as he stood. “I’ll worry about it later. You guys want to give me a couple
minutes alone? I’m thinking of changing again. These jeans are pinching my
balls.”

Devin got to his feet, snickering on his way to the door. “They probably
wouldn’t if you tried putting on some damn underwear.”

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Following Devin, Jeremy pointed at Ash. “Are you kidding? Look at how low
those frickin’ things are. No way he could wear underwear with them.”

Chad winked at Ash as he passed by him. “You just need to get you a man
thong.”

“I have a few of those, actually.”

As his band members headed out of the dressing room, Ash walked to the full
length mirror. He looked down at his designer jeans, slung so low off his hips it
was no secret he shaved his pubic hair, and they fit so tight even the most
unimaginative of minds wouldn’t have trouble envisioning how he was hung.
His lean torso, lined and grooved with muscle, was framed by his open black
shirt. He glanced up, meeting his own blue eyes.

He’d finally get to meet Jackson in person. What should he say to him when he
did? Should he tell him to cut his crap? Or apologize for starting the whole
screwed up situation to begin with? And what would it be like when he talked
to him, listening to that Texas drawl in Jackson’s low baritone voice?

Ash wet his lips, a slow smirk spreading over them. He didn’t know what the
hell he’d say, but he knew one thing; he was going to try his damnedest to piss
him off. Just once, he wanted Jackson to drop his good boy mask.

And there was one other thing he knew. Ash flicked his gaze up to his
mohawk’s reflection in the mirror. Before meeting Jackson, he definitely
needed to do something about his hair.

CHAPTER 2

Jackson strolled through the outdoor stadium, empty except for the crew
working on building the massive stage at one end of the football field. He’d
been to Chicago on his last two tours, but the closest he’d gotten to Soldier
Field both times was when his tour bus went by it. It was a nice. Of course,
being a Cowboys fan, nothing could beat their stadium.

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He turned from the field and headed down a tunnel into the stadium interior.
He’d arrived late that morning and decided to walk off the plane trip from
Dallas by exploring the venue. There wasn’t much else to do. The next two days
were for rehearsals and working out technical glitches, with the concert
following the day after. He was sure he’d find plenty to occupy his time. A
couple fellow country artists and other friends and acquaintances he’d made in
music were coming in, so he wouldn’t lack for company.

Though, there was one person he wanted to talk to more than any other.

Jackson left the stadium to the parking lot, where a section was roped off for
performers’ tour buses and trailers. It looked like a mini community of
musicians. If artists flew in rather than arrive in their own tour bus, the
organizers had set up trailers for them, which was nice to have a place for
privacy at the actual venue rather than just at his hotel, since there certainly
wasn’t enough dressing rooms for everyone. Now he just had to remember
where his trailer was. He knew a rap artist’s tour bus had parked next to it, and
that made a pretty distinct landmark since it had the guy’s face painted on the
side.

He worked his way between the closely parked trailers and buses, wondering if
the rock band, From Ashes, was there yet. One thing he wanted to accomplish
at this concert was talking to their lead singer, Ash Ivers.

Jackson lowered his gaze to the ground, his cowboy hat shadowing his face.
Three years of bickering with a man he’d never talked to in person. How
ridiculous of a thing was that? And how completely stupid of him, too. He knew
he’d gotten suckered by the press more than once in responding to Ash’s
comments. Instead of always coming back at Ash, he should’ve just replied with
a smile and, “No comment.”

But the ego Ash carried himself with, that man just asked to be challenged. He
swore Ash got enjoyment out of antagonizing him. The only thing he didn’t
understand was, why? It might’ve started out with just a smart-mouthed
comment from Ash, but to keep things going, there was no point to it. That’s

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why he needed to talk to him. He wanted it to stop. It wasn’t doing either of
them any good.

From the back of his mind, a quiet voice whispered another reason why he
wanted to see Ash in person. There was no denying for all Ash’s attitude, he
was also intriguing. If for no other reason than what his next hair style would
be. He really hoped Ash had ditched the yellow and red mohawk. He had
looked like a damn hotdog stand with it.

Jackson glanced up. His strides slowed to a halt. A silver tour bus was parked a
little ways ahead. In front of each bus and trailer, the event organizers had
signs placed with the artists’ names to make it easy to deliver messages to
them and also so everyone could find each other. In front of the silver tour bus,
the small white sign read, From Ashes.

Jackson stared at the sign. This was it. All he had to do was walk up to the door,
knock, and Ash would be on the other side. Maybe. Just because his band’s bus
was here didn’t mean Ash was. He could be at his hotel, or any other place in
the stadium. Or anywhere in Chicago, for that matter. It was probably pointless
to even try the bus. He should just head back to his trailer and wait to run into
Ash.

He started to turn, stopping as he heard a loud voice shouting, “That’s fucking
bullshit!”

Jackson faced the bus again. He might never have talked to Ash in person, but
he knew his voice well enough from listening to Ash sing to recognize the
bellow came from him. Curiosity got the better of him and pushed his feet to
walk toward the bus, his ears picking up more voices floating out the open
windows as he stopped near the door. He recognized Ash speaking again.

“Kent, this is crap and you know it. On the original set list, we were marked in
to take the stage after the openers. Now we’re getting pushed back to the
middle of the goddamn show! That’s bullshit!”

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Another male voice replied, “Ash, just settle down. You’re making a bigger deal
out of this than it is and this shouldn’t be such a surprise. I gave you the new
re-organized list almost two weeks ago. Didn’t you look at it?”

Silence. Jackson made a mental note that when he talked to Ash, to not bring
up he’d been moved up to From Ashes’s spot in the show.

“Of course you didn’t,” the other male voice continued. “You never look at any
documents I give you.”

“That’s why you’re our manager,” Ash said. “To look at that stuff for me. And
when you looked at the new list, you should’ve known I would’ve been pissed
at us getting bumped back!”

“I don’t understand why. I think you’ve really got the whole idea wrong.”

“Oh I do, do I? Well with my idea, us getting stuck in the middle is nothing but
us getting lost in the crowd. I want us at the front of the show, or at the end.
With a concert this huge and this long, the middle always drags. That’s when
people go off to get something to eat, or drink, or fuck. I’m not going to be
standing on stage playing to a half filled stadium. This is a slap in the face from
the event organizers and promoters!”

“I knew that’s what you were thinking, and you’re wrong. Yeah, a show like this
can drag in the middle and that’s why From Ashes got moved there. Because
they wanted to put in a heavy hitter guaranteed to keep the crowd’s interest.
There are a lot of great artists playing this gig, but let’s face it. There are some
more than others that people want to see, and From Ashes is one of them. The
organizers and promoters know that, and that’s why they’re moving you to
where you are.”

A third male voice said, “Makes sense to me.”

Ash spoke again. “Jeremy, don’t side with him.”

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“Well it makes sense to me, too.”

“Chad!” Ash yelled.

One more male voice added, “I gotta go with them on this, too. Sorry, man.”

“Thanks, Dev. Like I didn’t already know you would,” Ash said, sarcasm thick in
his voice. “Fine. Put us in the middle. It doesn’t matter, anyway. We’ll still blow
everyone away.”

“Awesome. Then I’m off to talk to the organizers.”

Jackson heard quick footsteps nearing the door and knew he didn’t have time
to duck away. The best he could do was to take a few steps back to not look
like a complete eavesdropper. At least he learned Ash didn’t throw attitude just
at him. Seemed he did it with everyone. But it also seemed he came down from
it pretty quick and could be reasoned with. That gave him a little burst of hope
he could talk things out with Ash.

The door opened. Jackson met the gaze of the man standing in the open
doorway, who looked to be in his late thirties and from his sharp dress, he
guessed the guy was From Ashes’s manager.

The guy blinked and cleared his throat. “Well, this is a surprise.”

Jackson took a step forward. “I apologize for showing up out of the blue. But I
was hoping to have a few words with Ash Ivers. Are you his manager?”

“Yeah, I’m Kent Baumann. And don’t you think you’ve already had a few words
with Ash?

“Yeah, but they haven’t been the best of words, and that’s why I wanted to
have some more with him.”

Ash’s voice sounded from inside, “Kent, who are you talking to?”

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Kent turned his head slightly to call back to him, his gaze staying on Jackson.
“Jackson Abrams. He says he wants to talk to you.”

Silence.

“Should I let him on?” Kent asked.

Another pause came before Ash answered, “If he feels he can handle walking
into this den of sin, then by all means, step aside and let him in.”

Jackson clamped his teeth together. This might’ve been a bad idea.

Kent stepped out from the bus and stood to the side of the door, motioning the
way in for Jackson with a sweep of his arm. “Welcome aboard.”

“Thanks,” Jackson grumbled. He let out a heavy breath and climbed up the first
step, doing his best to call up a pleasant expression before he reached the top
of the stairs. He turned inside the bus. The first thing to hit his vision, Ash,
reclined on a black leather couch running along one side of the bus.

The mohawk was gone, his hair much shorter, but still with enough length on
top where Ash had it styled to be artfully tousled. The yellow and red color was
gone too, it now being a very dark brown. The darker color accented Ash’s blue
eyes, making them seem crystalline, but what really made them stand out was
the black eyeliner framing them. It looked like he hadn’t shaved that morning,
stubble shadowed his jaw and lower cheeks, giving his soft facial features a
rugged edge.

With him fully stretched out on the couch, Jackson took in Ash’s long, lean
body, from the black leather pants to the tight black spandex shirt covered in
gray skulls. With how the shirt conformed to him, each wiry muscle in his torso
was visible. Jackson also made out the circular shape of rings in Ash’s nipples.
The short sleeves showed Ash’s sinewy arms inked in tattoos. A grinning skull
resting in a bed of red flames adorned his right forearm, the word “From”

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written above the skull, “Ashes” written below the flames. On his left forearm,
a tribal dragon curved up to his elbow. Black flames in the same tribal style
came from the dragon’s mouth, small near Ash’s elbow, then spreading out
across his bicep. He had thick black leather cuffs studded in steal spikes on his
wrists. Each earlobe was decorated with two black diamond studs.

There was no mistaking Ash for anything other than the rock star he was, and
there was also no denying he looked better than Jackson had ever seen him. He
knew Ash was a good looking man, but sometimes the styles Ash did with his
hair and clothes distracted from it. Seeing him now, his hair and clothes simpler
but trendy, Jackson couldn’t take his eyes off him.

Ash tipped his head to the side in a contemplating look. “Well, Kent was right.
Of all the people I’d expect to knock on my door, you wouldn’t even come close
to making the list.”

“Yeah, I can understand that, Mr. Ivers. We haven’t exactly had much in the
way of friendly conversation.”

Ash let out a soft laugh. “Dude, don’t call me mister.”

The other band members joined in with his snickering.

Jackson glanced at them. He knew all their names. How could he not with the
way Ash kept himself in his line of sight. Sitting at a table was the drummer,
Devin Hayes, his thick arms folded across his barrel chest, his eyes dark brown,
his hair nothing more than black fuzz with how he had it buzzed close to his
head.

The bass player, Chad Anders, leaned back on a counter, and even though he
was snickering with the others, he had a friendly look to him. Of course, that
could be because with his small build, blond hair, blue eyes, and young looking
face, he had an innocent appearance to him. But Jackson also knew
appearances could be deceiving.

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Guitarist, Jeremy Shimoda, sat at the table with Devin, and was twisted around
to look at him. He had half his black hair pulled up in a ponytail, the other half
fell to the tops of his shoulders. Jackson knew from Jeremy’s last name and
from reading about him he was half Japanese, and his features blended the
beauty of both his Caucasian and Asian ethnicities. He was also the only one
not snickering. Instead, Jeremy looked at him with interest.

Jackson brought his attention back to Ash. “Sorry. I’m not much of one for
being called mister either, but I thought I’d try to be polite.”

Louder laughter came from Ash. “Trying to be polite? Since when the hell have
you ever wanted to be polite to me?”

Jackson suppressed a growl in his throat before it slipped out. He forced his
voice to be calm and steady. “I’ve always tried to be polite every time I’ve had
to respond to one of your temper tantrum comments.”

Ash snapped himself upright, bracing both hands on the couch as if he was
about to launch himself off it. “Just because I say it like it is doesn’t mean I’m
having a temper tantrum.”

“Maybe not, but you’re having a damn good one right now.”

Ash’s mouth dropped open with a stuttering breath slipping out. He snapped it
closed, his lips set in a hard line. As he spoke again, half the words came from
between clenched teeth. “You can say I’m having temper tantrums or whatever
the hell else you want, but at least people know what they’re getting with me. I
am who I am, and I don’t a give a shit who likes it and who doesn’t. Not like
you, who throws out insults behind your good boy smile.”

Jackson took a step toward him, pointing down at him. “You don’t know a
damn thing about me, so don’t talk like you do. I’m not as much of a good boy
as everyone thinks.”

Ash stood up. “Really? How so? No, wait, I bet I know. You’re kinkaholic in the
bedroom, aren’t you? You’ve probably even…” he sucked in a sharp gasp,

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“fucked with the lights on. You rebel!”

Jackson glared at him, not bothering to hold back his growl as he spoke in a low
voice. “I didn’t come here to be talked to like this.”

Ash folded his arms across his chest. “Then you shouldn’t have come here at
all.”

“Yeah, I’ve figured that much out. I thought maybe we could talk things out like
men and clear the air between us, put an end to all this ridiculous fighting with
the press acting as ringleaders to both of us, but it looks like I was wrong.
Maybe when you’re ready to man-up, you can come find me and we’ll try
talking again.”

“Man-up! You did not just say that to me!”

Ash walked two quick steps toward Jackson, but was forced to a short stop as
Jeremy hopped up and stood between them.

“I think you both need to cool it,” Jeremy said, and turned to look at Jackson.
“And with how this is going, it might be better if you leave.”

Jackson dipped his head in a nod of acknowledgment. “I think so, too. I’m sorry
things took this turn.” He looked at Ash. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
He glanced over the others. “Hope you have a good set.”

He looked again to Ash, and at seeing the hardness in his gaze, he turned away
and jogged down the steps, closing the bus’s door once outside. He strode
quickly away, but as thoughts of what happened filled his mind, his pace
slowed.

That would go down as one of his biggest screw-ups of all time. He should’ve
known something like that would happen the instant he and Ash met in person.
With all the tension that’d built between them through the media, it wasn’t as
if he expected them to embrace like long lost friends. Still, he hadn’t quite

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expected that much of a blowup.

He lifted a hand to his chest, rubbing over his heart. What he expected even
less was how he felt about it. The hurt at Ash’s reaction to him hit with so much
intensity and went so deep. Why did Ash have to be like that? All he wanted
from him was…was what? What did he want from Ash? Why had he really
wanted to talk to him?

Jackson shook his head. The answer to those questions wasn’t something he
wanted to face, and with how things turned out, it didn’t look like he’d ever
have to.


CHAPTER 3

His plate of untouched pizza forgotten on the table, Ash stared out the tour
bus’s window, not noticing anything beyond. He vaguely heard the bus door
open, but didn’t bother looking to see who’d come on.

Standing with his hands on his hips, Jeremy exhaled a loud sigh. “You were
sitting like that two hours ago when we left. If you were going to do nothing
but stare at the trailer next door, you should’ve come with us to say hi to
everyone.”

“I’m not in the mood to say hi,” Ash mumbled.

“Yeah, I know, because you’re pouting.”

“I’m not pouting.”

Jeremy went to him and sat on the couch. “If you’re this upset about it, why
don’t you go find him? I saw his trailer. I can tell you where it’s at.”

Ash snapped his head toward him, giving him a glare. “I have zero desire to talk
to him again.”

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“I think you have a little more than that. And, I think you need to talk to him.
You acted like a total dick to him.”

Disbelief in his tone, Ash said, “And he didn’t act like one toward me?”

“I’m not saying he didn’t. He said some harsh things, too. But you escalated it
by blowing up at him right at the start. How many times have I told you,
sometimes you gotta play things cool? I know you and him have pissed at each
other for a long time, but even you got to admit, what he did coming onto our
bus, into your territory, to try and talk things out, that took some balls.”

Ash took a deep breath and sighed as he exhaled. “I know. It’s one of the
reasons I feel so shitty about what happened. And you know, I can’t even figure
out why I went at him like that. I mean, yeah, there’s all the media bullshit, but
he came here waving a white flag and I shit all over it. That’s not who I am.”

Jeremy rested a hand on Ash’s knee. “I know that. No doubt your temper gets
the better of you sometimes, but you usually have a reason for it. But it was
probably all the past anger and resentment. Maybe it just all burst out when
you saw him because it was the first time you had a chance to let loose on him
in person.”

“Yeah,” Ash said, his voice soft. “But that’s not what I wanted to happen. I’ve
been thinking about it a lot since I found out he was going to be here too,
trying to figure out what I’d say to him if I got the chance. I really decided I’d
apologize for starting all this crap to begin with.”

“And you still can.” Jeremy grinned at him. “But now you have to apologize
twice. Once for starting things and again for using his white flag to wipe your
ass.”

Ash laughed. “Yeah. I guess I’ve got all kinds of manning up to do, don’t I?”

“Just a little. And he’s still here. I saw him chilling outside his trailer on my way

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back.”

One of Ash’s eyebrows arched as a look of suspicion came over him. “You’re
being a little too helpful about this.”

“What else are good friends for?”

Ash stayed silent, Jeremy’s answer making him even more suspicious.

Wearing a grin, Jeremy stood up and stretched. “So, we’re heading back to the
hotel. You sticking around for a little while longer?”

“I guess. But your shitty little grin is making me think you’re up to something.”

Jeremy waved him off. “You’re too paranoid. Just go talk to Country and do
your manning up. His trailer is in the row in front of where we’re parked. Turn
left and it’s about five down. You’ll see his sign.” He started toward the door.
“We’ll catch you later. We’re probably going to hang at the hotel bar for a
while.”

“Alright.”

Ash stayed in place for a few moments more, weighing whether he really
wanted to go talk to Jackson. He wanted to see him again, that was a given, but
he wasn’t sure he wanted to face Jackson’s reaction to him. He knew it wasn’t
going to be good. Still, if Jackson had the balls to come talk to him in the first
place, he should show his own by going to him this time.

His decision made, Ash hopped up and left the bus. The hot day had faded into
a warm night, but the high humidity continued to linger. He followed Jeremy’s
directions, cutting between trailers. The area was quiet, many artists having left
for their hotels or to hit the Chicago clubs. He saw the outside lights lit on a
trailer up ahead, and figured it had to be Jackson’s. Laughing voices floated
near him, and as he neared, he realized why Jeremy had been smirking. He’d
been setup.

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Jackson sat outside the trailer with the guys who played in his band. He might
be a solo artist, but he still had regular musicians who joined him in the studio
and on stage. Along with the bass player, drummer, and guitarist, were two
other popular country music stars who were going to be performing, Clint
Murray and Elizabeth Harlan. He didn’t know the names of Jackson’s band
members. Like with so many solo artists, the people who played for them
didn’t always get as much spotlight as what members of an “official” band did.
Either way, now he was the one walking into Jackson’s territory with Jackson
surrounded by his allies.

Ash took a deep breath and started toward the group. Jackson wasn’t the only
one who could flaunt his balls.

His strides slowed to a stop again as everyone burst out laughing. Not out of
intimidation, but because his ears picked up a sound so deep and rich, he
wanted to savor it; Jackson’s laugh. Out of all the laughing voices mixed
together, he was able to pick Jackson’s voice out.

Wearing a bright smile and still chuckling, Jackson glanced up, his gaze meeting
Ash’s. His laughter slowed and his smile faded. Seeming to pick up the shift in
his mood, the others followed his gaze, and Ash became all too aware he was
now the focus of everyone’s attention. He stood motionless, not sure if he
should take the last few steps to join everyone, or just walk by the group as if
he hadn’t intended to stop to begin with. It was totally messed up. He was used
to being the focus of attention for thousands of people at a time, but here with
a gang of six, he didn’t know what the hell to do with himself.

Jackson broke their gaze and leaned over the side of his chair to a cooler. He
pulled out a bottle of beer and looked to Ash, extending the bottle toward him.

Ash stared at the invitation, but only for a few quick heartbeats before he
moved forward. He stopped in front of Jackson, wrapping his fingers around
the bottle neck as he looked into Jackson’s eyes. “Thanks.”

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Jackson nodded once. “No problem. It’s too hot a night to not have a cold
beer.”

The guitarist slapped Jackson on the arm. “It’s also too hot to be drinking
outside when there’s air conditioned bars not even five minutes away, and with
better scenery than a parking lot. Let’s get out of here.”

Jackson’s gaze flicked toward Ash before he turned to his guitarist. “I think I’m
going to stick around for a little while longer. I’m not in the mood for a bar. You
guys go on ahead.”

The drummer stared at Ash while he spoke to Jackson. “I think we better stay,
too.”

Ash looked at each of them, noticing the hard, cold expressions they all wore.

Jackson sat back in his chair, letting out a huff. “If you’re staying because of
him, you better be doing it because you want to get to know him. But if it’s for
any other reasons, there’s no point in sticking around. You don’t have anything
to worry about.”

Ash stood in complete shock. Jackson was defending him. After all their harsh
words, Jackson was basically telling his band members he trusted him enough
to be alone with him. Ash lowered his gaze. More than once he’d felt like an ass
in his life, but never as big of one as he did now.

The guitarist stood, still eyeing Ash warily. “If you say so. We’ll catch you in the
morning then unless you want to join us later.”

“If I do, I’ll text you to find you,” Jackson said.

The three band members walked past Ash. He flashed a bright smile, making
eye contact with each of them as they passed by, doing his best to mock their
sour expressions. He might feel like an ass for talking to Jackson the way he did
earlier, but these guys had nothing to do with that.

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Jackson motioned to the vacated chair next to him. “Have a seat, Ash.”

Ash felt his heartbeat pick up at Jackson saying his name. Jackson had such a
warm tone to his voice, and even with having heard it so many times when
Jackson sang or spoke in interviews, in person there was something different
about it. Ash smiled his thanks and took the chair next to him.

Elizabeth stretched across Jackson, offering her hand to Ash. “It’s nice to meet
you, Ash. I have to admit, I’m a huge fan of yours.” She threw a grin at Jackson.
“Even with all the bickering you two do.”

Ash took Elizabeth’s hand in his, smiling at her. With her wavy blonde hair, blue
eyes, and charming smile, the term “Southern beauty” came to his mind about
her. “Thanks. I have to admit I’ve rocked out to your music, too. You’ve got a
beautiful voice and I’m a sucker for your love songs.”

Elizabeth laid her other hand over his. “What a sweetie, you are. Thank you,
honey.” She glanced at Jackson. “Isn’t he sweet?”

A slight smirk quirked up one corner of Jackson’s lips. “I’m not sure I’d go quite
that far.”

Ash glanced at him, seeing the humor in Jackson’s expression and eyes.

Elizabeth released Ash’s hand, giving Jackson a backhanded slap on the chest in
reprimand. “Be nice.”

Clint shook his head at them. “You two act like an old married couple.”

“Oh, we do not,” Elizabeth said.

“I wasn’t talking about you and him. I was talking about him and him.” Clint
waved his hand between Ash and Jackson. “Always bickering at each other, and
now look at you, settling down like nothing happened.”

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Jackson nodded his head slowly, seeming lost for a response.

Ash took a sip of his beer to appear unable to answer.

Uncomfortable silence fell over everyone.

Ash lowered his beer. He glanced to his left, to his right, up at the sky. Well,
how damn awkward was this? He didn’t have the first clue what to say,
especially after that comment.

Elizabeth finally broke the silence. “So, Ash, I always wanted to ask you, is Ash
your real name?”

Ash contemplated standing up and hugging her for trying to ease the tension.
Thinking that’d probably seem odd, he gave her a smile instead. “Sort of. It’s
Ashton, but people have always called me Ash for short, and when I started
playing in bands, I thought it sounded more rock star, so I rolled with it for my
stage name.”

“Well I think Ashton is a pretty name.”

“Exactly. That’s why I go by Ash. Rock stars aren’t supposed to have pretty
names.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Now, I think if a rock star wants to have a pretty name, he
should be able to. I like that your band name plays on it.”

“Yeah, Jeremy, my guitar player, actually came up with our name when we first
hooked up.”

“How did you guys meet?” Elizabeth asked. “I know from the musicians who’ve
played for me, it can be so hard finding the right chemistry with folks.”

Ash reclined in the chair, draping one arm over the back to get comfortable. “It
took me a long time before I found my boys. I grew up in L.A., and I got into

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playing music in high school. Well, I had played guitar before that, but it wasn’t
until high school that I started singing, and even then, my first time wasn’t
exactly my choice. I was in a band with some guys at school and there was a
Battle of Bands going on down at the beach, so we thought we’d enter.

“We were about to go on and our singer had disappeared on us. We couldn’t
find him anywhere, and it turned out he’d met some girl that afternoon and
decided getting laid was more important than the competition. But hey, we
were all seventeen, eighteen years-old and if any of us had the chance at
getting laid or playing music, it would’ve been a damn empty stage.”

Jackson and Elizabeth interrupted with soft laughter.

Ash smiled at them, but also noticed how stony Clint sat. He cleared his throat
as he began again. “So we either had to hit the stage without him or pull out of
the competition. I was the only one who knew all the lyrics to the two songs we
were doing, so I got drafted to sing.” He chuckled softly. “We just figured if I
sucked, we’d play our instruments harder to drown me out. But it turned out I
have a pretty decent voice.”

“You have a very nice voice,” Jackson said.

Ash looked at him, stunned by the sudden compliment. “Thanks.”

“So did you win the competition?” Elizabeth asked.

Ash slowly turned his gaze away from Jackson’s to her. “No, but we came in
third, which I didn’t think was too bad for a band of high school guys. But it was
that competition that made me realize I wanted to be a professional musician,
and even more than that, I wanted to be a singer. I wanted to be the guy at the
front of the stage, drawing the people in, throwing out all I had in my music
and voice for them.

“After high school, I bounced around from band to band, worked odd jobs,
took some singing lessons. That went on for a few years, then when I was

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twenty-one, I met Jeremy and Chad, my bass player. They were already friends
and they happened to catch a show I was doing with the band I was in at the
time. Both of them loved my voice and performance style, so they approached
me to see if I’d be interested in singing for them. I instantly clicked with them
and ended up leaving the other band for them.

“Chad knows how to play drums too, so we decided to go with just the three of
us, him on drums, Jeremy on guitar, and I took over bass. We wanted to find a
drummer, just couldn’t find someone we melded with. Then at one of our
shows, Devin was a bouncer in the club. After we finished our set, he came up
to us to tell us he liked our sound. We got talking and it turned out he was a
drummer, but he’d given up music a few months before because he wasn’t
seeing it going anywhere and he needed to put more time into making some
real money. We asked if he’d like to jam sometime, and the rest is history. After
a couple years of playing together, we managed to land our deal and here we
are.”

Elizabeth spoke as he finished. “That’s wonderful you all found each other like
that.”

Ash nodded. “Yeah, I played with a lot of guys, but you know what they say,
when you find the one, you know it.”

Elizabeth giggled. “Isn’t that the truth?”

Ash turned to Jackson. “So how’d you get here? I think I remember reading
about you winning some radio station contest, or something.”

Jackson took a drink of his beer before answering. “Yeah, pretty much. A local
station was holding an American Idol kind of contest at a fair. It was just for fun,
no big prize other than bragging rights, but my family and friends pushed me to
enter. It turned out a talent scout was there for a big Nashville label. I won the
contest, and he walked up to me and asked, ‘How you would like to be
famous?’ I said, ‘Hell yes,’ and here I am.” He smiled at Ash. “Guess I did things
the easy way compared to you.”

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“Nothing wrong with that,” Ash said. “But I like the road I took. I would’ve been
embarrassed as all hell if my claim to fame was through winning a big karaoke
contest.” He winced inside as soon as the words left his mouth. Why the hell
could he realize a fuck-up immediately after it happened, but he couldn’t catch
it before?

Jackson stared at him in silence for a moment. “It wasn’t a karaoke contest.
Everyone might’ve been covering other people’s songs, but we still had to put
our own touches on them and really perform them. And no one had a monitor
feeding them the words.”

“Yeah, but that’s still essentially karaoke, right?” Ash said. “It’s not like anyone
was doing their own original music.”

“Because that wasn’t what the contest was for. Just because they were
covering other people’s songs doesn’t mean they weren’t talented.”

“I didn’t say they weren’t talented. Just not very original.”

Jackson turned in his chair to fully face him. “So what you’re saying is that since
I got discovered from winning that kind of contest, I’m not original?”

Ash shifted in his chair to look directly at Jackson. “You’re recording your own
music now, so the answer to that is obvious. Now it’s everyone else doing
karaoke of your songs.”

“But I just wasn’t original back then, is that right?”

“Well, I didn’t know you back then, so I can’t say for sure, but since you entered
a glorified karaoke contest, I’m guessing not. But you’ve come a long way since
then, so it’s all good. Damn, I didn’t realize you were so sensitive about this.”

“I’m not sensitive about it. You just have a shitty way of talking about things.”

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Ash’s voice rose a notch. “I have a shitty way? I’m not the one-”

Elizabeth’s voice lifted over Ash’s. “Okay! Gentlemen, I think I’m going to call it
a night and go back to my hotel. I’ve got an early rehearsal time tomorrow.”
She looked to Clint, who was already on his feet. “What about you?”

“Hell yes, I’m leaving. Thanks for opening up the escape.”

Jackson stood, offering an apologetic smile as he hugged her. “Sorry about
that.”

She gave him a couple reassuring pats on the back. “It’s just what you boys do.
I’ll see you tomorrow, honey.”

Ash got up, also giving his apologies to her. He watched her and Clint walk
away, wishing he could take the same escape. Things had seemed like they
were going pretty well, just having small talk with Jackson, and then all it took
was one wrong thing said, and the sparks started flying again. Maybe they’d
just built up too much of a habit with it over the years to where it couldn’t be
broken.

Seeing Jackson was sitting again, Ash sighed and relented to stay. He still
needed to work his way around to an apology. Somehow. He didn’t even know
how to approach that now.

Ash sat next to him again. Neither spoke. He glanced at him. Jackson sat with
his gaze focused on the pavement. Ash took the time to really look at him, not
that he hadn’t stared at him countless times before, but it was different on TV,
online, and in magazines. There were endless tricks to make a person look
better than they really were for those things, but now sitting so close to him,
he saw none of those tricks needed to be used on Jackson.

Deep blue eyes were set in a face of finely chiseled features. The line of his jaw
was shadowed in black stubble that also outlined lips. And there was
something about the cowboy hat. Somehow, it seemed to accentuate Jackson’s

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attractiveness even more. Ash grinned at the thought. If he ended up hanging
around Jackson regularly, he just might develop a cowboy hat fetish.

Ash let his gaze travel lower. He remembered when they faced off in the tour
bus, Jackson was slightly taller than him. He noticed now he also had a thicker
frame. Solid biceps, forearms lined in muscle, and broad shoulders that created
a V down to Jackson’s hips. Ash’s gaze traveled lower. With how tight Jackson’s
jeans were, it looked like he definitely wasn’t lacking in certain areas.

Ash looked away, an internal grumble passing through him. Just what he
needed. He’d made himself hard looking at Jackson. Again, not another first,
but the first time he’d done so with Jackson close enough to touch. Ash shifted
in the chair and stretched one leg out to ease the pressure on his cock.

Nothing, not a sound, not a movement, came from Jackson. Ash felt an
annoyed huff getting ready to leave him, but caught it before it did. It probably
wasn’t right to expect Jackson to make the first move. Jackson had done it
twice already with coming to the bus, then welcoming him to visit. If only he
could figure out what to say.

The words floated to the front of his mind, not ones he was thrilled about, but
ones that he knew were right to say. He let out a sigh and turned to Jackson.
“Hey. The whole reason I came to find you, I was a real dick earlier, back on the
bus. You came to talk to me and I pissed all over you. I’m sorry.”

Jackson’s voice came low and hushed. “It’s no big deal.”

“And I’m sorry for what I said about the whole karaoke thing. I’m sure the
contest was more than that, but you’re right, talent is talent, and to win
something like that and have your talent recognized, that’s a huge thing.”

Jackson nodded.

Ash sat quiet. That’s it? He apologized and all he got for a response was a nod
and a “no big deal”? What the hell? Maybe he shouldn’t have even bothered
apologizing.

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“You don’t think I’m much of a musician, do you?”

Ash snapped his head toward Jackson at hearing his question. “What? No. I
mean, no as in yeah, I do think you’re a hell of a musician.”

Jackson let out a snort expressing his doubt at Ash’s words.

Ash leaned over his chair, trying to get closer to him. “You know what’s pissed
me off the most about us throwing words at each other?”

Jackson glanced at him. “What?”

“The fact that I still listen to your music and I like it.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Seriously. If you don’t believe me, ask my guys. They make fun of me all the
time for it. Not because they think your music is bad, they don’t. They listen to
it, too. It’s because they think it’s freakin’ hilarious that one second I’m
throwing something at the TV after you’ve made a smartass comment, and the
next second I’ve got you playing on my iPod.”

Jackson spoke through his laughter. “Well, I guess the same applies toward
you. One second I’m cussing out your picture in a magazine, and the next I’m
blasting From Ashes in my dressing room to hype me up for the stage.”

“I guess we’re more alike than we ever knew, even if I can’t imagine you
cussing anybody out. I was impressed with just you saying ‘shitty’ a little while
ago. It was the first time I ever heard you swear.”

“What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

Ash took in Jackson’s playful smile. “I think I would like doing that.” He caught
the flirtatiousness in his own voice, and he contemplated standing up and

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physically kicking himself. He hadn’t even thought when he’d said that, but
from how Jackson was staring at him, it seemed he’d picked up on it, too.

Jackson averted his gaze. “I was surprised when I found out you were playing
this concert.”

Ash caught the topic change, and couldn’t help but feel disappointment at it.
But what did he expect? He’d get flirty and Jackson would jump him? He
couldn’t even believe he was thinking like this. He’d always felt some attraction
toward Jackson, and yeah, he’d had a few fantasies about him, but to getting
flirty with him? Especially being ninety-nine percent positive Jackson wasn’t
down with it? That all added up to one thing; he was too damn horny and
needed to get laid. Since he didn’t see that happening in the next five minutes,
he might as well finish this conversation with Jackson.

“Same for me when I heard you were going to be here. I didn’t think this would
be your kind of thing.”

Jackson brought his gaze back to him. “I do a lot for charities.”

“Yeah, but this is a different kind of charity. I wouldn’t think you’d want your
image tied to anything related to HIV and AIDS.”

Anger darkened Jackson’s expression. “And once again, you’re making
assumptions about me when you don’t know a goddamn thing about me.
Playing for this cause means more to me than any other charity I’ve thrown my
support behind. It’s someone like you who I can’t believe is playing for it.”

Ash snapped back, “Someone like me? What the hell is that supposed to
mean?”

“I think you know what it means. Men like you, sleeping around, not giving a
shit about anything or anyone so long as you get off. You’re not exactly the
ideal poster boy for prevention.”

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Anger and hurt stole Ash’s voice. He rose slowly to his feet and stood over
Jackson, glaring down at him. He forced his voice to return, but it came out low
and rough. “Now who’s making assumptions? You don’t know a fucking thing
about what I do behind closed doors or what kind of man I am. You’ve said
some shit before that’s really pissed me off, but you’ve never offended me like
you just did and you’ve never cut so low. But you know what? I’m still glad I
came here to talk to you because our media feud really is over now. You’re not
even worth my time to comment about in an interview anymore.”

On his final word, Ash marched away. He heard Jackson call his name, thinking
he caught a pleading tone in the single word, but he didn’t bother looking back.


CHAPTER 4

Sitting in the stadium seats, his band members chatting around him, Ash
watched the rehearsals down on the stage, but he didn’t hear the conversation
or music. All he could hear were Jackson’s words replaying in his mind, as they
had throughout the night.

He couldn’t believe Jackson thought that’s the kind of person he was. He
wouldn’t, and couldn’t, deny he lived a promiscuous life, but he was always
safe. It hurt for Jackson to imply he wasn’t, but not because of just the words,
but because it meant Jackson’s opinion of him was that low.

A nudge to his arm interrupted his thoughts.

“It’s a new day, man,” Jeremy said. “You gonna keep going with the bad mood
from yesterday?”

“That was my plan. And I’m still pissed at you for sending me over there last
night when you knew Jackson was surrounded by his posse.”

Jeremy chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, I was kind of a jerk, but I wanted to
see if your balls were as big as his. Who knew they would be?”

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Ash shoved Jeremy on the shoulder. “But you know what kills me? There were
times when we were talking where it felt like we really were getting along, like
there could be some friendship there.”

His seat behind Ash and Jeremy, Devin leaned forward between the two of
them. “Maybe you shouldn’t have tried flirting with him. Him calling you slutty
might’ve been his way of saying back off.”

“I think it was just him stating the obvious,” Chad said.

Ash snorted. “So what if I’m slutty? It’s the other shit he connected to it.”

Devin sat back in his seat. “That was harsh, I’ll give you that. I don’t get it with
you two. You cross words constantly, but you’re both fans of each other’s
music. You meet in person and fight, then share a beer. Fight, have a few
laughs. Fight, and…well, that blank still needs to be filled, but you get my
point.”

A wicked smirk crossed Jeremy’s lips. “I think I know what the blank is going to
get filled with.”

Ash returned Jeremy’s smirk with his own. “Well, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Chad said. “You know, because of the whole slutty
thing.”

Ash twisted in his seat to see him. “At least I own up to my sluttiness. Not like
him. Country stars aren’t that much different than rockers when it comes to
that. You might not hear about their escapades as much, but I know there’re
country artists who party just as hard as rock stars. So someone needs to take
that high and mighty moral stick out of Jackson’s ass.”

Jeremy leaned toward him. “Totally agree, and get ready. You’re about to get a
chance in about thirty seconds.”

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Ash whipped back around in his seat to see Jackson climbing the stairs toward
them.

Jackson stopped a couple rows down, looking up at him. “Care if I join you for a
few minutes?”

Ash waved his hand to encompass the stadium. “There’s not exactly a shortage
of seats.”

“Yeah, but I want to talk to you.”

“You did that yesterday. There’s nothing left to say. So just go find some shit to
kick, or cows to tip, or whatever the hell else you country boys do.”

“Ash,” Jeremy said, his voice scolding.

Jackson lowered his head. “No, I deserved that. I said some pretty rough things
to him last night.”

“We’ve already been filled in,” Devin said.

“I figured as much.” Jackson lifted his head, finding Ash’s gaze. “And that’s why
I’m here.” A slight grin touched his lips. “Since I took back the Asshole Award
from you last night, I wanted to give you a chance to win it again.”

The smile, the words, they were such small simple things, and yet Ash could
feel his tension toward Jackson melt because of them. He smiled at him. “I
think I’ll let you keep it for a while.”

Jackson chuckled. “See? I knew you were a generous person.”

Ash laughed softly. “Yeah, I’m nice like that.”

“And since you’re so nice, can I talk to you for a few minutes?”

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Ash caught in Jackson’s tone he wanted to talk to him alone. He nodded and
stood up. “I’ll catch you guys before rehearsal.”

Devin called after him, “Don’t worry about it! Enjoy having your blank filled.”

Ash snorted out a laugh and lifted his middle finger high at his drummer.

Jackson gave him a curious look. “Do I want to know what that meant?”

“Probably not.”

They walked in silence through the stadium, their pace relaxed and unhurried.
To Ash, the silence between them felt comfortable, as if he’d walked beside
Jackson so many times before. The night before, during the times they got
along, it came so easily. But so did fighting, and that’s what he didn’t
understand. How could two such opposite things exist in how he felt with him?

As they reached the artists’ area, Ash realized Jackson was taking him to his
trailer so they could talk in private. He felt a small thrill at the thought of being
in a completely private space with him, not that he thought what he wanted to
have happen would. But what else could happen? Fighting or fucking. Those
were the only options, and he really wasn’t in the mood to fight. And talking.
He guessed that was another option, especially since that’s what Jackson said
he wanted to do. But he really wasn’t in much of a mood for that either.

Jackson turned for his trailer and opened the door, inviting Ash to step in first.
He watched Ash climbed the steps, his gaze locked on Ash’s ass. The jeans
hugged the curves of it so tight, showing how firm and finely shaped it was. His
heartbeat quickened with a mix of emotions, nervousness at getting ready to
talk to him, excitement at being alone with him, and lust at wanting to rip the
skin-tight jeans off Ash’s ass. Jackson shook his head to refocus himself and
closed the trailer door behind him as he followed Ash.

Ash walked to the middle of the trailer and faced him, folding his arms across

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his chest. “So what do you want to talk about?”

Jackson took in Ash’s defensive posture. Ash looked like he was already
prepared for a fight, and he could understand why. They hadn’t been able to
trust the few moments of camaraderie with how quickly things took bad turns
between them. Somehow, he needed to get them making good turns together.

Jackson sighed and moved closer to him, stopping at the table. He tugged off
his cowboy hat and tossed it to the table, his head bowed as he ran a hand over
his short black hair. “I’m trying to figure out where to begin.”

He glanced up at Ash, the expression Ash wore, eyes wide and lips slightly
parted, stopped his thoughts. “Is something wrong?”

Ash blinked a couple times. “It’s just, I think I’ve only seen about two pictures
of you without your hat on.”

A few low chuckles left Jackson’s throat. “Do I look that bad without it?”

“No, you look that good without it.”

Jackson’s chuckling stopped, along with his breathing at the shock of Ash saying
something like that to him. He glanced away from him. If he didn’t know what
to say before, he really didn’t know now.

Ash unfolded his arms, resting one hand and his hip against the edge of the
table’s booth. “Sorry. I know last night me getting flirty pissed you off, but what
I said just now, take it as a compliment. Don’t worry about any other meaning.”

His voice hardly a whisper, Jackson said, “You flirting last night didn’t piss me
off.” He chanced another look at Ash, seeing the shock had returned to his
face. He lifted his head more, looking into Ash’s eyes. “What you said last night,
about how you didn’t think I’d want to have my image tied to an HIV/AIDS
event, why’d you say that?”

“Because of the typical stereotype connected to HIV and AIDS, the one you

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threw out at me last night.” Ash’s voice came sharper. “Which was total bullshit
on so many levels. First, this is something that all people, from all walks of life,
need to be aware of and concerned about. It doesn’t discriminate like people
do. But it’s because of that stereotype that I figured you’d want to stay clear of
having your wholesome image close to it. And second, you don’t know me. You
don’t know what I do behind closed doors. But if you want to know, I’m clean,
I’m always safe, and I get tested regularly. What you said, implying I just screw
whoever, whenever, however, that was pretty fucking low.”

Jackson nodded slowly. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Ash stared at him, his mind thrown into shock once again. He couldn’t believe
Jackson hadn’t snapped back at him. Instead, Jackson was looking away, his
entire demeanor speaking of not wanting to fight. Ash felt his confusion
growing. He didn’t get what Jackson’s game was here, unless there was no
game, just Jackson wanting to truly have an open moment with him. The
thought of that confused him even more.

Ash shoved the thoughts aside. Hopefully he could figure things out as they
kept talking. “Well, I appreciate the apology. I’m not sure I want to accept it,
though.”

“I can understand that.”

“So why the hell are you playing this concert? You said last night this was the
most important charity event you’ve ever done. With the shit you said to me,
I’m finding that a little hard to believe.”

Jackson stood quiet for several moments. Ash started to think he wasn’t going
to answer him, until Jackson cleared his throat.

“I have an uncle who’s HIV positive. He’s lived with it for years. He has a
partner and they love each other very much, but in their early years, they were
always on again, off again. He was something of a wild man back then.” Jackson
raised his head, giving Ash a small smile. “You’re going to be surprised to learn

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this, but he’s a rocker. Never hit the big time, but he’s played guitar in a band
for years. Still does. He loves it. And he loves your music, too. He’s a huge fan.”

All anger and animosity he’d felt toward Jackson fled from Ash. He took a step
toward him and stood in front of him, close enough to touch him. “On our next
tour, you guys should come to one of our shows. I’ll give you my number so you
can call me and I’ll get you backstage.”

Jackson lost his voice for a moment as he looked in Ash’s eyes. The ebony
make-up lining them accentuated their blue hue, but he had a feeling even
without the eyeliner, Ash’s eyes would be just as beautiful. He found his voice,
but still couldn’t take his gaze from Ash’s. “I’d appreciate that.”

“It’s no problem.” Ash paused for a moment. “How is he now? I mean, is he
doing okay?”

“Yeah, he has good days and bad days, but he’s got Dale, and he always says so
long as he has him, everyday is a good day.”

“It sounds like they love each other a lot.”

“They do. They were about as opposite as opposite can be when they were
young, still are in a lot of ways. My uncle, Lee, is kind of haphazard, messy, and
still has a little wildness in him. But Dale is all about structure and being
organized. He manages one of the largest banks in Dallas, so you can see the
rocker and the business man, kind of an oil and water mix. It was because they
were so different that they were always breaking things off, but they also
couldn’t go long without finding their way back to each other again.

“When Lee found out he had HIV, that’s kind of what sealed it in them realizing
how much they loved each other. He didn’t think Dale would want him
anymore, and he even tried to push him away. But Dale held on, and more than
ten years later, they haven’t spent a day without each other.” Jackson
chuckled. “And fighting! They can still get ripping in some good ones, bitching
and bellowing at each other. But those moments always end in an embrace and

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a kiss.”

Ash smiled. “It’s beautiful they can work through that.”

“Yeah, but they’ve hit a point where neither of them takes offense to what the
other says. They’re so confident in their love for each other, they brush those
moments off like they’re nothing.”

Ash placed his hand on Jackson’s bicep. “I’m sorry for saying I didn’t think you’d
care about this charity. I guess I was passing judgments again, and it was crap
of me to do that.”

Jackson lowered his gaze. He slowly lifted his other hand and rested it over
Ash’s on his arm. “We’ve both done that too much.”

Ash looked at Jackson’s hand over his. His heartbeat hit a frantic pace.

Jackson glanced up, catching Ash’s gaze. “Plus, as a gay man myself, it makes it
extra special for me. But like you said, it’s important for all people to know and
understand about it.”

No other words would come to Ash. Jackson…did he really just say that? Ash’s
mind spun with him desperately trying to catch hold of some comprehension.
Jackson just confided in him that he was gay. And even if he doubted Jackson’s
words, he couldn’t doubt the way Jackson was looking at him, or the softness in
his touch.

Still unable to find words, his mind still floating, Ash tipped his head slightly
toward him, watching to see what Jackson’s reaction would be. Jackson’s eyes
half closed, his hand slid up Ash’s arm to the back of his neck. It was the only
sign Ash needed. He closed the distance between them, his arms going around
Jackson as he brought their lips together.

A hushed groan rumbled in Jackson’s throat. He started to part his lips, and Ash
slipped the tip of his tongue through them. Jackson opened wider, accepting

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Ash’s tongue into his mouth. Ash took control of the kiss, rubbing his tongue
across Jackson’s, sucking it into his mouth.

The kiss came to a slow end. Ash kept his eyes closed for a long moment before
opening them, and saw Jackson doing the same, as if he was also savoring the
kiss.

Jackson couldn’t bring himself to pull his hands away from Ash. He let out a
single, short laugh that held more confusion than humor. “What’s happening
here?”

“I don’t know, but I’m running with it.” Ash took Jackson’s face in both hands,
pressing their lips together in a more forceful kiss.

He turned Jackson toward the table and pushed him back to sit on the edge.
Jackson spread his legs wide for Ash to stand between them. Ash’s fingers went
to the buttons on Jackson’s shirt, working with deft skill in opening them, his
lips never breaking from Jackson’s. The last button undone, he flung Jackson’s
shirt open and drew the kiss to an end so he could see the body he’d been
dying to get a look.

Jackson’s pectorals were thick with muscle, his abdomen cut in deep grooves.
But what surprised Ash was the tattoo on Jackson’s left pec. He hadn’t
expected him to be inked. The image looked as if Jackson’s skin had been
ripped open, not bloody or gory. Rather, it made it appear that beneath
Jackson’s skin was an American flag, and in front of his “skin” was the profiled
head of a bald eagle.

Ash ran his hand over the tattoo. “That’s cool.”

“Thanks.” Jackson slipped his fingers under Ash’s shirt, edging it up. “I know
you’ve got more than what’s on your arms. I’ve seen pictures of you with your
shirt off a lot.”

Ash grinned and stood up straight to pull his shirt off. “You've seen pics of me

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with it off, or you’ve looked for shots of me with it off?”

“Considering the position we’re in right now, I guess I can admit it’s been more
of the second one.”

“I like hearing that.” Ash dropped his shirt to the floor.

Jackson looked at Ash’s chest. Adorning each pec where two nude male angels,
their bodies inked to be muscled and beautiful, one with feathered wings, pure
and heavenly in appearance, and the other with black reptilian wings, dark and
haunting. Each embraced half of a heart, as if in battling against each other,
they’d torn it in two. Along with the tattoos, both of Ash’s nipples were pierced
with silver rings.

Jackson placed his hands on Ash’s waist, running them up his sides. “I love
those two. They’re beautiful.” He drifted his hands in to Ash’s chest, flipping
the nipple rings with his thumbs. “And I’m really liking these.”

Ash closed his eyes. “And I’m really liking what you’re doing with them.”

Encouraged by Ash’s words, Jackson leaned forward, placing a kiss on Ash’s
chest just above his nipple before covering it with his mouth. He sucked on it,
flicking the ring with his tongue. Ash laid a hand on Jackson’s head, a quiet
moan purring in his throat. Jackson brought his hands back down Ash’s sides to
his hips, and slid them behind him to his ass. He rubbed his palms over the
cheeks, and as he switched to give attention to the other nipple, he clamped
onto Ash’s ass, jerking him forward.

Ash pushed his hands between their bodies to Jackson’s jeans and opened
them. He gave a little growl at confronting Jackson’s boxers.

Jackson tugged the nipple ring with his teeth before sitting back. “I’m guessing
you’re not a boxers kind of man.”

“I’m not an underwear kind of man, period.”

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Jackson dropped his gaze to Ash’s crotch, realizing what that implied.

Ash pulled at Jackson’s jeans, trying to get him to lift his hips. Jackson rose
slightly off the table, and Ash dragged his jeans lower, taking the boxers with
them. He looked down at Jackson’s cock, the thick shaft curving in an arch, the
tip resting at his navel. Ash touched his middle finger to the slit and traced
down the full length to where it met Jackson’s sac. The length, the girth, it was
perfect. His body already yearned to feel it stretching and filling him.

Ash wrapped his fingers around Jackson’s cock, squeezing against the hardness.
Jackson’s head fell back, his eyes closing as a moan passed over his lips. He
lifted his hips, moving his cock in Ash’s hand. Ash pumped the shaft in harmony
with each raise and lower of Jackson’s hips, watching how Jackson moved
them, envisioning them working between his own legs.

Jackson brought his head forward again, looking down at his cock sliding in and
out of Ash’s hand. He wanted Ash’s cock in his hand, to stroke it and make him
come. He reached for Ash’s jeans, able to see the hard line behind them. He
unfastened the button, and as the zipped came down, Ash’s cock pushed out.
He gripped the shaft and rubbed his thumb in circular motions over the broad
head.

Having Jackson’s hand on his cock broke Ash’s control. He took Jackson’s
mouth in a rough kiss, pressing him to lie further back on the table. Jackson
reclined on one elbow, refusing to take his other hand off Ash’s cock. Ash
rocked his hips with Jackson’s hand motions, never losing the rhythm of
pumping Jackson’s cock.

Jackson broke the kiss to take few quick, deep breaths. With Ash’s body over
him, the fierce hunger in how Ash worked him and kissed him, he could already
feel his orgasm starting to rise.

Ash kept his lips close to Jackson’s, sharing each quick breath with him. He
thrust harder into Jackson’s hand, jerked faster on Jackson’s cock. He felt
Jackson shudder, his abs constricting, and knew Jackson was about to lose it.

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He dipped his head toward Jackson’s ear, his voice a gravely whisper as he
spoke. “Let it go, Jackson. Let me make you come.”

Jackson tipped his head back, his voice leaving him in a loud moan as his climax
overwhelmed him. Ash focused on Jackson’s cock, watching the white fluid
leave it to splatter Jackson’s abdomen. He flicked his gaze to Jackson’s face.
Jackson’s expression of pleasure finished him even more than seeing his cum.

Ash stood up straight, grabbing hold of his own cock. Jackson’s had lost his grip
on it when his orgasm claimed him, but he’d brought him close to the edge.
Ash stroked it hard and fast, pushing himself over.

Jackson opened his eyes in time to catch the final few strokes before Ash came,
and he found himself entranced. He looked at the fluid on Ash’s hand, his
mouth watering for a taste. But even more, he wanted Ash’s body close to him
again. He extended a hand to him. Ash took it and dropped forward, bracing
himself on the table with his other hand as they met in another kiss.

Ash eased the kiss to an end. He took a deep breath. “Well, that was one way
for us to work out the tension between us.”

Jackson smiled and placed a light kiss on Ash’s lips. “I think I like it a lot better
than bitching at each other.”

“So do I.” Ash dipped his head down, laying a kiss in the center of Jackson’s
chest. “You got some towels around here?”

“Down by the bathroom, there’s a closet with some.”

Ash pushed off the table and turned to get towels. He found washcloths as
well, and after quickly wiping himself clean, he returned to Jackson and ran the
cloth, damp with warm water, over him.

Jackson couldn’t help but feel touched at the gentle way Ash cleaned him. He
wondered if he should speak his thoughts. He wanted to, and at the same time,

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he didn’t. But even more than voicing not wanting to voice his emotions, he
didn’t want Ash to think he was just a random quick hook-up. Jackson glanced
up at him, his voice hushed. “I can’t even begin to say how many times I’ve
thought of having moments like this with you. No matter what you said to me
in the press, I could never shake how attracted I was to you.”

“It was the same for me. You’ve driven me nuts all this time, constantly making
me pissed and horny at the same time. That’s just not right.”

Jackson laughed and claimed Ash’s lips in another kiss.

A soft chiming sound interrupted them.

“What’s that?” Jackson asked.

Ash shoved his hand into his front pocket and pulled out his phone, the chiming
becoming louder as he did. He hit a button, shutting it off. “A reminder alarm. I
set it so I’d make our rehearsal on time.”

“Guess that means you have to go.”

“Yeah, sorry. I should’ve thought of that before we got into this, but you kinda
made me forget about everything after we kissed.”

“Sounds like I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

“Being hot is nothing to be sorry for. Look at me. You don’t see me apologizing
for it, do you?”

Jackson gave him a playful grin. “No, but with some of the hairstyles you’ve
had, an apology or ten might be in order.”

Ash let out a huff. “You’re going to fit right in with Devin, Chad, and Jeremy.”

“Just do me a favor. Try to keep your hair like this for longer than a couple

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days. I’m really liking the color.”

“It’s my natural color. I decided to start from scratch again after my mohawk
disaster. I had to get it cut down to this length just to fix it.” Ash laid his hands
on Jackson’s hips and brought their bodies close again. “But if you want me to
keep it like this, then I’m guessing you want to see more of me.”

Jackson angled his head to kiss him. “I want to see and touch every part of
you.”

A pleased groan sounded in Ash’s throat as their lips met. Jackson led the kiss
this time, his tongue moving over Ash’s in slow, deep thrusts. Ash stepped
backward, his hands still on Jackson’s hips, drawing him toward the couch.
They nearly reached it when his phone went off again.

Jackson spoke with his lips touching Ash’s. “Another reminder?”

Ash sighed and pulled out his phone, glancing down at it. “No, Devin’s texting
me.”

Jackson looked at the screen as Ash opened the text, reading, Where the fuck
are you?! Rehearsal! Remember?
“Looks like you gotta go.”

“Yeah.” Ash replied to Devin with, Cool it. On my way. He hit send and turned
to Jackson. “Come with me. You can watch us rehearse, then we’ll grab a late
lunch.”

Jackson drifted one hand behind Ash to caress over his ass. “I’d like to, but I
have a lunch interview to do.”

“Alright, dinner then. We can get our guys together and hit some clubs. You can
show us how to party country style, and we’ll show you how to party like rock
stars.” Ash smirked at him. “But I’m telling you now, if we walk into any bar
that has line dancing going on, I’m outta there.”

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Jackson chuckled. “I’m not so sure that’d be a good idea.”

“Line dancing is never a good idea.”

“No, I meant about all of us hanging out.”

Ash gave him a confused look. “Why?”

“It’s not that I wouldn’t want to, it’s just…you know…” Jackson shrugged, as if
trying to give himself time to find the right words. “You’re just a little
more…out there than I am.”

The confusion fell from Ash’s face as understanding took its place. “Right. I get
it.” He backed away from Jackson’s touch. “I’m good enough to get you off in
private, but not to hang with in public.”

Jackson reached for him. “That’s not exactly what I meant. It’s not an easy
thing, Ash.”

Ash ignored Jackson’s outstretched hand and stormed toward the door. “If it’s
not, maybe that’s because you’re making it that way.” At the stairs, he turned
to face. “You know, with what just happened, with what it felt like when we
kissed, I thought…” he shook his head, “forget it. It doesn’t matter what I
thought. I was obviously wrong.”

Jackson started toward him. “Don’t leave like this. I think we both got things we
need to say.”

“You’re wrong. I’ve got nothing left to say.” Ash’s phone chimed with another
text coming in. He grabbed the door handle and yanked it open. “See ya
around. But don’t worry, it’ll only be from a distance. I won’t wreck your image
by getting too close.”

“Ash…”

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The door slammed closed behind Ash in response.

Jackson dropped down in the closest seat, holding his forehead in his hand.
Sparks of anger turned to passion and back again. He didn’t understand how it
was possible for them to balance such contradicting emotions, but then, were
they really all that contradictory? Both were powerful, encompassing, heated.
Two things that seemed so different, yet could share the same energy…just like
him and Ash.


CHAPTER 5

Jackson secured the microphone on the stand and turned away from it,
heading offstage before his band finished fading out the song. He ignored their
confused and questioning looks. Descending the stairs, he saw Elizabeth
standing at the bottom waiting for him.

“Well that was about as lackluster of a rehearsal as I’ve ever seen,” she said.

Jackson shrugged as he walked by her. “I got a feel for the stage and the
stadium’s acoustics. Don’t need much else.”

Elizabeth followed after him. “Well aren’t we in a mood? Who pissed in your
beer? Oh, let me guess. You pissed in your own.”

Jackson shot her an unappreciative look.

She returned it with a sweet smile. “And let me make another guess. This has
something to do with a certain rock star, doesn’t it?”

Jackson’s strides slowed, his head lowered. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

Elizabeth put her arm around his waist. “Alright, let’s find a quiet place to sit
and you can tell your big sister all about it.”

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Her words gave him a smile, though it was weak and faded quickly. When Ash
left him earlier that day, he nearly chased him down. Once again, one wrong
thing said set them both erupting, but he wasn’t so much angry at Ash as he
was at himself. Yeah, Ash didn’t give him a chance to explain himself. With
what he’d said about not being as “out” as Ash and how Ash had taken it to
mean he didn’t want to be seen with him, he could understand why. And
maybe it really was what he meant.

Why was he worried about being seen with Ash in public? Where they could be
tagged by the paparazzi together? He knew he definitely didn’t want to deal
with all the media questions, and there would be a lot of media attention on
them if they were seen suddenly hanging out like friends…or lovers. He didn’t
even know where he’d begin to answer all the questions that would get thrown
at him, especially if they turned toward the latter. It was a crazy thing how it
seemed easier to talk about Ash as an adversary than as an intimate partner.
There were reasons for that, though.

Ash’s sexuality was no secret to anyone, he’d always been open about it. But
his own, well, Ash hadn’t been far off with his last media taunt when he said
everyone wanted him for a son-in-law. Other than his family and a few close
friends, the only person who knew he was gay was Elizabeth. He met her not
long after he started recording his first album at a party held by their mutual
record label. Almost instantly, she became like an older sister to him and the
only one he could go to when things got rough.

It wasn’t easy, keeping his true self hidden. There were times when he stood on
stage, women screaming for him, men applauding him, that he wanted to stop
the music, take up the mic, and say, “I have something I need to tell y’all…” But
he never did, and he didn’t know if he ever would. It would take something
huge, something special, for him to do it. Rock and pop artists might be able to
get away with being open about their sexuality, and even then sometimes they
failed, though that was usually because they didn’t have the talent to last,
anyhow. For him, his demographic was a little different, and he was afraid how
people would react.

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More than once he wished he’d never entered the contest that brought him his
fame, or if he had, when he was approached by the talent scout, he would’ve
just given him a polite “No thank you” and turned away. His success had
become a blessing and a curse at the same time.

One thing he did know, Ash had already left a void inside him. They’d only
spent a handful of moments together, but it felt so much longer. He knew it
was probably because of their media history, but it also felt like there was
something more. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.

During his interview at lunch, he kept asking the reporter to repeat questions,
as his mind refused to let go of Ash. Afterward, he returned to the stadium and
looked for him, but if Ash was somewhere in the huge facility, he couldn’t find
him. It could be Ash was purposely avoiding the place so as to not run into him.
At least he knew Ash would have to show up for his band’s set during the
concert, but he really didn’t want to wait that long to talk to him. Other than
lurking around From Ashes’s tour bus, there had to be a way for him to track
Ash down.

Jackson glanced up and realized Elizabeth had led him to her trailer. He
followed her in and dropped down at the table.

Elizabeth went to the refrigerator. “What do you want to drink?”

“Nothing. Thanks.”

She returned to the table, set a bottle of water in front of him, and took a seat
across from him.

He grinned at her ignoring his request and opened the water, taking a long
drink.

“Well,” she said, “better get to spilling your story. You know how I love dirty
details, and considering how woeful you’re looking there has to be some,
especially if Ash is involved, so get to it and don’t leave those out.”

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Jackson couldn’t muster even a flicker for a smile as his mind became filled
with what had happened between him and Ash. He started the story at the
night before right after Elizabeth had left them and took it up to Ash storming
out of his trailer. As he finished, Elizabeth was quiet for a few moments before
speaking.

“You really like him a lot, don’t you?”

Jackson exhaled a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. Everything inside of me screams
‘yes’, but…”

“But what?”

“He’s not easy to get along with. When I’m with him, half the time I don’t know
if I want to choke him or fuck him.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Well, honey, you could always do both. Get a little air play
going on.”

Jackson broke into laughter with her. She was so sweet, with such a generous
and kind heart, and that was how all her fans knew her. Behind the scenes,
though, she was a wild woman. Sometimes he was still shocked at the things
she’d say. “I’m not sure he’d go for that.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I have a feeling there’s not much he wouldn’t go for.”

Jackson nodded slowly, his mind filled with the image of Ash standing between
his legs, pumping his cock to finish himself off after having made him come. He
looked so beautiful and confident, unashamed and uninhibited in his pleasure.
It gave him an all new admiration for Ash.

“Let me ask you something,” Elizabeth said, her voice serious again. “What is it
that you want?”

Jackson’s eyebrows drew closer in confusion. “What do you mean?”

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“Life, baby. What do you want out of life? This?” She waved her hand at the
trailer. “Spending months at a time on the road, living in things like this and
hotels, alone? A new city everyday? A new person in your bed every night? Is
that what you want?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“And that’s a problem, because I think you do. You’ve said it before, more than
once, how you wonder what your life would be like without your fame. What it
would be like to just live as a regular guy, dating and falling in love without
worrying about people getting in your business. And you could walk away from
the success you have, you’ve talked about it before, but we both know you
never will because you truly love bringing your music to people. So what you
want is to have the best of both worlds, love and music.”

Jackson sagged in his chair. “It doesn’t seem like it’s that much to ask for.”

Elizabeth shook her head at him. “Just finding someone to love you as much as
you love them is a lot to ask for, sweetie. It is for all of us. We spend years
wanting it, searching for it, dreaming about it. For some, it comes to them easy.
For others, they may never find it. So, if you have someone who you think can
give it, you should give them a chance to. You already have music, so all you
need is the other one. And I’m not saying it could be just around the corner,
but you never know. It might be.”

Jackson stared at her, fully understanding what she was implying.

She sat back in her chair, a satisfied smile on her lips as she lifted her bottle of
water for a sip. “And somewhat on that same topic, I happened to hear some
little birdies chirping a while ago about how a bunch of the artists are hitting a
big dance club downtown called Envy. I do believe I picked up the name From
Ashes in all the twittering.”

Words didn’t seem enough to Jackson for him to express how grateful he felt

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toward her. He stood up and went to her side, bending down and hugging her.
“Thank you,” he whispered, placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Oh no. Thank you, because you supplied me with your dirty details. This is all
self-serving in me sending you off to go make some more to tell me about.”

Jackson smiled at her. “Then I guess I better go.”

“Yes you should.” Elizabeth flipped her hands at him in a shooing motion.
“Hurry along now.”

Jackson went to the door, giving her another smile of thanks before stepping
out. He wasn’t sure how Ash would react to him, but he would take any
reaction just to see him again.


CHAPTER 6

Jackson stepped inside the club door, his ears rebelling against the jumbled
beat, that in his opinion, was a sad imitation of music. Looking at the dance
floor packed with churning bodies, it seemed he was the only one who thought
so. He was also pretty sure he was the only one in the entire place wearing a
cowboy hat. But not matching everyone in dress and taste in music was the
least of his problems. How the hell was he going to find Ash?

He decided the bar was as good a place to start as any. He really hoped he
wouldn’t have to push his way around on the dance floor searching for him. He
saw the club had an upper level, and decided if he didn’t have luck at the bar,
he’d try going up there to see if he could spy him.

Jackson reached one end of the bar and started down it. A little less than
halfway, he spotted two familiar faces, drummer, Devin Hayes, and guitarist,
Jeremy Shimoda. Jackson moved toward them as quick as he could with people
bumping into him and veering in his way. He kept his eyes locked on them,
determined to not lose them in the crowd.

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Jackson reached them as they were collecting fresh beers. They turned, and he
saw the surprise on both their faces. He decided he wouldn’t bother with
niceties since he was certain they knew why he was there. “Where’s Ash?”

Devin shrugged. “Damned if I know. This is a big club.”

Jackson gave him an exasperated look. “Don’t play games. If anyone knows
where he is, you guys do.”

Jeremy spoke over the music. “I saw him a few minutes ago, but I don’t think
you want to see him right now.”

Jackson turned his attention to Jeremy. “I know he’s mad at me, but I need to
talk to him.”

Devin jumped into the conversation again. “Yeah, I don’t think him being pissed
at you has anything to do with why you shouldn’t bother him.”

“What do you mean?” Jackson asked.

“Last I saw, he wasn’t alone.”

Jackson’s stomach twisted, his heart clenched. Ash wasn’t alone. He was
already working on getting someone new in his bed. And why not? He hadn’t
even gotten to Ash’s bed. It’s not like his spot was going to get taken away.

Jeremy laid a hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “He hasn’t done anything yet except
dance. But if he’s sticking to his usual pattern, once he comes off the floor, he
doesn’t hang around long, so you might want to haul ass. He was by the
restrooms when I saw him.”

“Thanks,” Jackson said, turning at the same moment to find the restrooms. He
spotted a blue neon sign on one wall indicating where they were and rushed
toward it.

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He stopped outside the restrooms, looking left and right, his eyes quickly
scanning faces. Even knowing the general area where Ash should be, with all
the people crammed around, it seemed an impossible task to find him. He
found himself wishing Ash still had his yellow and red mohawk. No way he
could miss him with that.

Wondering if Ash was in the restroom, Jackson started toward it. Out the
corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Ash’s profile, Ash smiling as he put his
arm around the shoulders of young man and steered him toward the club’s
exit. Jackson froze, the hurt at seeing Ash getting ready to leave with the guy
made it so he couldn’t move, could hardly breathe.

The crowd shifted around Ash. Jackson lost sight of him, and it spurred him to
move. He shouldered between bodies, ignoring the angry protests and glares.
He spotted Ash again. The guy with Ash pressed in closer to him and kissed his
cheek.

Desperate, Jackson found his voice. “Ash!”

Ash stopped and turned, but not toward him. He faced the other guy, looking
as though he was about to return the kiss.

Jackson rushed a few steps forward. “Ashton!”

Ash snapped his head around, his gaze locking with Jackson’s.

Jackson pushed through the crowd, finally reaching him. He flicked his gaze to
the guy beside Ash, and while Ash didn’t bother to hide his surprise, the guy
didn’t worry about hiding his annoyance as he stood glaring at Jackson.

“What are you doing here?” Ash asked.

Jackson brought his gaze back to Ash. “Looking for you.” His voiced shifted to a
sharper tone as he looked at the guy again. “You don’t waste much time, do

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you?”

Holding a beer bottle in one hand, Ash placed his other on his hip. “I didn’t
realize there was something I was supposed to be saving my time for.”

The sting of Ash’s words silenced Jackson. It seemed since he’d met Ash in
person, he’d made mistake after mistake, said one wrong thing after another,
and at this moment, he’d surpassed all of them together. He wanted to turn
away, leave the club, and pretend none of this ever happened. But even more,
as he looked at Ash before him, his dark hair perfectly styled, his blue eyes
shadowed in make-up, dressed in a tight black shirt and black leather pants, he
wanted to pull Ash into his arms. He wanted to lie down with Ash on top of him
and feel what he did earlier that day when they were together; warmth,
passion, affection. He felt trapped. Not wanting to walk away, but not sure if he
was welcomed to move forward.

The young guy let out a loud, derisive snort. “Well, since bumpkin boy doesn’t
seem to have anything else to say, let’s get out of here.”

“Hey!” Ash snapped. “Watch it. He’s a friend.”

The guy wrapped his arms around Ash’s waist, bringing his lips close to him.
“Sorry, I didn’t know. But let’s still get out of here.” His voice lowered, but
Jackson still heard him. “I want you to do what you said you would, fuck me
until I’m screaming your name as I come.”

Ash lowered his head and turned it away from the guy, and also from Jackson.

Jackson dropped his gaze, feeling as though Ash had moved beyond his reach,
even though he still stood so close.

The guy took Ash’s hand, giving it a tug. “Let’s go.”

Ash stood still.

Jackson waited, his heart pounding, not wanting to see Ash walk away from

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him.

Slowly, Ash pulled his hand from the other guy’s. He stepped forward to
Jackson’s side, not looking back at the guy as he spoke to him. “Go ahead and
take off. I’m hanging with him tonight.”

Letting out a loud huff, the guy whirled away. “Fine. I don’t even like your
music, anyway.”

His back to the retreating young man, Ash flung up both hands in disbelief. “Are
you freakin’ kidding me? You know, with the shit people say, it really doesn’t
pay to be famous.”

A smile slipped onto Jackson’s lips. Ash had chosen him. He looked at him,
meeting Ash’s gaze direct and unwavering.

Ash shook his head at him. “Look at you, all smiles and so proud of yourself for
scaring him away.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re smiling, too. And I think you’re the one
who scared him off.”

“Yeah, I guess I was.” Ash laid his hand on Jackson’s back. “Come on. I’ll buy
you a beer.”

“I was kind of hoping we could talk.”

Ash sighed. “Since we’ve been hanging out, you’re always saying that. Why
don’t you ever come to me and say, ‘I was kind of hoping we could fuck’?”

“Well, I was thinking of trying to work my way around to that.”

Ash stepped close to him, his chest nearly touching Jackson’s. He leaned
toward Jackson’s ear, his voice deepening to a sensual timbre. “Instead of
trying to work your way around to it, just say it.”

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Jackson wet his lips. His breathing came quicker. All he had to do was say what
he wanted.

Ash started to pull back. “I guess you don’t want to, after all.”

Jackson grabbed Ash’s arm, stopping him from drawing away. He looked into
Ash’s eyes. “I do want to.”

“You want to what?”

Jackson glared at him. Obviously, Ash wasn’t going to make this easy on him, as
the smirk on Ash’s lips further revealed. Paybacks for him being an ass earlier
that day, he supposed. Jackson dipped his head toward Ash’s ear. “I want you
to fuck me.”

Ash’s smirk broadened. “Not bad. But how would you like me to do it?”

Jackson’s voice lowered to a growl. “I’m not going to start talking dirty in the
middle of the goddamn dance floor. Get me alone, and I’ll tell you everything I
want.”

Ash took a sip of his beer, contemplating him. “You know, this is an awful
public place for you to be seen with me. And if you leave here with me, just
think of the innuendos you’re opening yourself up to.”

“Innuendos are one thing. Facts are another. But either way, I said things in the
wrong way earlier, like it seems I usually do when I’m talking to you. I want to
explain myself better.”

Ash glanced to the side, mumbling near the bottle top before taking a drink.
“More talking. Great.”

Jackson started to turn away. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have even come here.”

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In a single graceful step, Ash cut in front of Jackson and blocked him from going
further. Jackson stumbled to a short stop, but still bumped into him. As he met
Ash’s eyes, he saw the same look in them he had that morning, one holding
tenderness and care.

Ash exhaled an exaggerated sigh. “I guess we can talk. For a little bit on the way
to one of our hotels. There won’t be anything else to do since I doubt I can
convince you to give me head or a handjob on the way.”

A smile spread over Jackson’s lips. He bowed his head toward Ash as his voice
dipped low. “You’re right, since I want you to save it all until you’re inside me.”

Ash turned for the exit. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jackson fell into stride with him. They stepped out of the club to the warm
night. Ash handed his ticket to the valet, who sprinted away to get his rental
car.

“What about your guys?” Jackson asked. “Didn’t you all come together?”

“Yeah, but we drove separate. Chad already found his company for the night
and took off a little while ago. We always arrive at clubs together, but never
leave the same way.”

A black Porsche 911 stopped in front of them. The valet jumped out, holding
Ash’s door open. Another valet moved to open the passenger side for Jackson.

Jackson slid into the leather bucket seat, reaching back for the seatbelt. “Just a
rental, huh?”

Ash pulled away from the curb. “Yeah. It’s a lot like mine back home in L.A.”

Jackson sat quiet for a moment. “Are we going to your hotel?”

“That was my plan. You want to go to yours instead?”

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“No, yours is fine.” Jackson took a deep breath. “This feels weird.”

“How so?”

“It’s like I just became a random pick up for you. I was expecting…” Jackson
paused, not having the words to follow. Or at least, not wanting to say them.

Ash reached across the car to lay his hand on Jackson’s thigh. “You’re not a
random pick up to me.”

“I guess you’re not mad anymore about this morning.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that. It’s just right now I’m more horny than I am mad.
Once I get that taken care of, I’m sure I’ll go back to being mad.” Ash glanced
from the road to give him a teasing smirk.

Jackson chuckled softly. “I’ll have to make sure to draw things out for a while,
then.”

“That works for me.”

Jackson laid his hand on Ash’s that was on his thigh. “I’m sorry for what I said
earlier.”

“It’s alright. I was hurt that you don’t want to be seen with me in public, but I
also came to realize if the only time I can be with you is in private, that’s better
than nothing.”

Jackson stared at him, made speechless by Ash’s words. He wanted to pull him
into his arms, to hold him and be held by him. He lifted his hand to Ash’s cheek,
caressing along it and down to his jaw. “I didn’t mean that I don’t want to be
with you in public. It’s just, maybe I’m afraid to. Things are a little different for
me than they are for you. I’m not open about my sexuality like you are, and you
don’t know how much I admire you for that. But my fan base, a lot of them

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have different values than your fans. I don’t know how they’d react.”

Ash caught Jackson’s hand and brought it to his lips. “I think maybe you’re not
giving your fans, and even my fans, enough credit. What values do they have
that could be so different? Do you think just because mine listen to rock, that
makes them more open-minded and accepting?”

“No, but they’ve known from the start that you’re gay, and that alone shows
how accepting they are.”

“They are a lot of performers who come out later and are still successful.
People who care about others aren’t restricted by the type of music they listen
to. Good people are good people, and I know you’ve got a lot of good ones who
listen to you.”

“Yeah,” Jackson said softly.

Ash squeezed Jackson’s hand. “I know it’s hard. And it’ll take a hell of a lot of
courage to do it, but you’ll know when the time’s right. I should’ve known more
than anyone else how rough it can be, so I’m sorry for getting pissed. From now
on, I promise I’ll try to be more patient.” He lifted his hand with one finger
raised, stopping Jackson before he could speak. “But don’t start getting
emotional on me. I said I’d try. I’ll probably still have moments of losing my
cool.”

Jackson leaned over the center console, touching his lips to Ash’s cheek. “And
that’s when I’ll have to be patient with you.”

Ash tipped his head to the side to rest it on Jackson’s, but bumped the cowboy
hat. He sighed. “But seriously, we gotta do something about this hat. If you can
walk into one of the trendiest, hottest dance club in Chicago wearing that
thing, coming out to the public should be nothing.”

Jackson laughed. “You might have a point on that.”

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Ash pulled to a halt in front of the hotel’s entrance. Jackson climbed out of the
Porsche before the doorman could open his door and followed Ash into the
lavish hotel. Once inside, as eyes started turning toward them, his humor
vanished. It was one thing to leave the club with Ash. People would wonder
about them, but it could always be said they’d left to eat or to hit another club.
Walking into Ash’s hotel, going up to his room, the space for interpretation
narrowed drastically.

“Jackson.”

Ash’s voice not only brought him back to the moment, but gave his confidence
the nudge it needed. Jackson saw him standing in the elevator, holding the
door for him, and stepped inside with him.

Ash took Jackson’s hand as the door closed. “For a second, I thought you were
going to bolt.”

“I just had a moment of nerves.”

“It’ll be alright. This hotel has done a really good job in keeping the press away.
No one will even know you were here.”

“There’s a part of me glad about that, and a part that’s disappointed in myself
for feeling that way.”

Ash moved in front of him. “I can understand that, but you should know all of
me is glad you’re here, one part in particular.”

“That part of me is glad I’m here, too,” Jackson said, bringing their smiling lips
together.

The elevator stopped at Ash’s floor. Ash led him to his room, unlocking and
opening the door. Jackson stepped into the suite. He only had a moment to
admire the fine décor before Ash bumped into him from behind, his hands
roaming over him and lips on Jackson’s neck.

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Ash tugged Jackson’s shirt out of his jeans. “Are you ready for me to show you
how to fuck like a rock star?”

Jackson pressed back against him. “Only if you think you can handle how a
country boy does it.”

“Well I’ve heard cowboys know their way around a rope.”

“That’s true. I do some team roping with my brother, and those cows are damn
quick. It’s all about timing with your rope and horse, and-”

Ash interrupted him, his voice pleading. “God, please stop. I was trying to talk
kinky and you turned it into cows. There’s no sexy in that.”

“Sorry. Since I really do rope, I don’t put it together with sex.”

Ash sighed. “Figures I’d have to hookup with a real country singing cowboy, and
not one of those urban ones where the closest they get to a cow is buying a
gallon of milk at the store.”

“Would now be a bad time to say that’s not the kind of cattle I have on my
ranch?”

“Hell yes it’s a bad time!” Ash pushed Jackson toward the bedroom. “And
you’ve done more than enough talking. It’s time for you to do the other thing
you said you wanted.” He brought his body close to Jackson’s, walking in step
with him to the bedroom, unbuttoning Jackson’s shirt on the way.

Stepping into the bedroom, Ash yanked Jackson’s shirt off his shoulders. He
spun him around, his gaze traveling down Jackson’s body and back up, resting
on the cowboy hat. “Okay, I guess I’ll admit the hat looks damn sexy with your
shirt off.”

Jackson hooked his fingers over the top of Ash’s leather pants. “I knew you’d

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come around to it.”

“Maybe. But for now, its still gotta go.” Ash pulled the hat from Jackson’s head
and with a flip of his hand, sent it sailing into a nearby chair.

Jackson took the bottom of Ash’s shirt and lifted it off. His gaze traveled over
Ash’s nipple rings and tattoos. “I wish I could find something to tease you
about, but you’re so damn perfect. Now that you don’t have your hotdog stand
mohawk anymore, that is.”

“Hotdog stand!” Ash said, trying to sound offended, but unable to hold it as he
started chuckling. “You know, I can’t even argue that because it’s true.”

Still laughing softly, Jackson touched their lips together.

Ash nudged him back to the bed, pressing harder against him in a silent sign he
wanted him to sit. Jackson dropped down to the bed, Ash following him in the
kiss. Slowly Ash drew back, caressing Jackson’s cheek and giving him another
warm smile before turning toward one of his suitcases. Jackson bent forward,
removing his boots and socks. As he glanced up, he saw Ash returning with lube
and condoms.

Ash tossed the lube and condoms beside Jackson. He leaned over him, forcing
Jackson to lie back. “Do you know how long I’ve thought about fucking you?”

Jackson ran his hands up Ash’s bare back. “Longer than a couple days?”

“By about three years. Sometimes I think half the time I was always firing back
at you in the press was to keep myself in your sight.”

“I’ve thought the same thing about myself toward you.”

Ash drew Jackson’s zipper down and wiggled his hand into the jeans. He
grinned. “You must’ve definitely been thinking of it tonight since you came
commando to find me.”

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“You did say you weren’t an underwear guy.”

“Already looking to do things I like. You’re my kind of man”

Ash lowered his lips to Jackson’s, taking his mouth in a hungry kiss as he
tightened his fingers around Jackson’s hard shaft. He pumped up and down a
few times, then released him and gripped Jackson’s jeans to take them off.
Jackson lifted his hips, and as soon as his jeans were off, he sat up and reached
for Ash’s pants. He grabbed the top of them, yanking Ash forward to open
them.

Ash’s hard cock pushed the leather aside as it came out. Jackson edged the
pants lower and bowed his head, his lips a fraction from Ash’s shaved sac. He
inhaled deep, pulling in Ash’s scent, the masculine musk with a light tint of
sweat. He couldn’t resist touching his tongue to the sac and licking a slow line
from the bottom of it, up the underside of Ash’s cock to the tip.

Ash’s breath left him in a moan. His hips moved in a small thrust. Jackson saw
the slit moisten with pre-cum, telling him how anxious Ash was to fuck. He
looked up and met Ash’s gaze. Holding it, he started to lie back, keeping his ass
at the bed’s edge. As he lifted his legs, Ash stepped closer and took hold of
them, guiding him to rest them on his shoulders.

Ash picked up the lube, squeezing some onto his fingers. He brought them to
Jackson’s hole, massaging the outside of it. Jackson closed his eyes and moved
his ass to get more pressure from Ash’s fingers on his hole. Sensing Jackson
already wanted him inside, Ash eased one finger into him.

Groaning, Jackson thrust his ass toward Ash. “Not enough, Ash.”

Ash pushed a second finger into him.

Jackson arched as another moan left him. “That’s better.”

Ash braced himself over him on one arm. “And here I thought I’d try to be

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gentle with you.”

“After three years of wanting you, I don’t have the patience for gentle.”

Ash pushed his fingers into him hard and deep, curving them up to Jackson’s
gland. Jackson’s breathless voice left him in a moan. Ash covered Jackson’s
mouth with his own, his hand thrusting in a steady, firm pace to further arouse
and open him. Ash worked a third finger into him, and Jackson lost the rhythm
of the kiss. His lips parted from Ash’s with his need to take quicker breaths.

Ash gazed down at him, Jackson’s face flushed with passion, and knew he was
ready. He pulled his fingers out of him and reached for a condom.

Jackson took hold of his cock, stroking it as he watched Ash roll the condom on
and lube himself. As Ash brought his body close again, disbelief passed through
Jackson at what was happening. All the harsh words between them, so many
times of feeling anger and lust in the same moment, but always believing their
worlds were too different to ever come together, made it seem surreal they
were together like this now. Jackson’s heart pounded, anticipation filling him at
knowing he was about to have Ash.

Ash pressed his cock to Jackson’s hole, easing it past the tight rim. Jackson
squeezed his own hard shaft at feeling his body stretch to accept Ash inside it.
He groaned as he bit his bottom lip.

Ash pushed his cock fully into him. He drew his hips slowly back until his cock
was nearly out of Jackson and thrust in small motions, teasing his cock head
and Jackson’s rim. Jackson shifted his ass, wanting his channel filled again. Ash
placed his hands under Jackson’s knees, pressing them back and spreading
Jackson’s legs wider. He sank into him, hard and fast.

Jackson gasped at the forceful move, a shock of pleasure blinding him as Ash
hit his gland, and continued to with every quick, firm thrust. He took his hand
up his shaft to the head, smearing the pre-cum over it before his next
downward stroke. He wasn’t going to last. Ash pushed him closer to the edge

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with every thrust.

Jackson lifted his head off the bed to look at him. Ash’s skin shone with a light
sheen of sweat. His lean muscles flexed with every movement. Strength,
beauty, passion, Ash fucked exactly how Jackson dreamed he would, and
watching him do it to him, finished him. He dropped his head back to the bed, a
loud moan leaving him as his climax hit.

Ash let go of one of Jackson’s legs, wrapping his hand over Jackson’s to help
pump him through his orgasm. When no more fluid came from Jackson’s cock,
Ash let it go and dipped his fingers into the cum splattered on Jackson’s skin.
He rubbed it over the hard lines of Jackson’s abdomen, the bitter scent of it,
the warm wetness on his fingertips triggered his own release. He rammed into
him, his voice pitching high as he came.

Ash slowed his thrusts to a stop. He lowered Jackson’s leg that he still held
down to the bed and braced himself over him, leaning to kiss him. Jackson
wrapped his arms around him, each seeking to enter the other’s mouth with
their tongues despite how breathless they both were.

Ash smiled through the kiss. “Well, that was worth three years of bitching at
each other.”

Jackson hooked his leg around Ash’s back, as if to keep him from pulling out. “I
was thinking more along the lines of with it being that good, we’ve got a hell of
a lot of time to make up for.”

“I’ll go with that, too.”

Jackson grinned at him. “Did we just compromise and agree on something?”

Ash nodded. “Yeah. At least we found one thing we can get along on.”

Jackson combed his fingers through Ash’s hair. “We’ll just have to remember
that when we have another fight.”

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“In that case, I think I’m going to be starting a lot more fights with you.”

Laughing softly, Jackson moved his hand to the back of Ash’s head and guided
him down to his lips again.


CHAPTER 7

Ash walked through the crowed backstage area, dodging around other
performers, staff, media, and security. Fans stalked with their backstage
passes, pouncing him at every turn for pictures and autographs. He appreciated
everyone’s attention, but at this moment he wished everyone would just get
out of his damn way. He’d been trying to find Jackson since arriving at the
stadium and managed to be completely unsuccessful.

With all the people, he wasn’t sure if Jackson would want him hanging around,
but he couldn’t help it. He’d be happy with just a glimpse of him since they had
to leave each other sooner than he wanted that morning with both of them
having early interviews, and for the first time since they’d met in person, they
parted with kisses instead of hurt emotions.

Maybe it was because of that he wanted to see Jackson again. Ash grinned to
himself. Or maybe it was because of when he woke Jackson that morning with
one hand on Jackson’s dick, one finger in his ass, Jackson’s deep drowsy voice
asking for more was almost enough to make him come. Yeah, that could
definitely be part of why he wanted even just a glimpse of him. Anything to
hold him over until he could get Jackson like that again.

Ash saw a crowd gathered ahead, a mix of security, fans, and reporters. A beige
cowboy hat rose out of the center, and he didn’t need to see more to know
he’d found Jackson. He started toward the crowd. Some fans spotted him and
rushed him. He sighed, then called upon his best publicity smile as they
approached, reaching for the first pen offered to him for an autograph.

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Ash glanced up as a fan moved to his side to pose for a picture together, his
gaze catching Jackson’s. A smile curved one corner of Jackson’s lips. Even with
his face shadowed by the cowboy hat, Ash couldn’t miss the sensual look in
Jackson’s eyes. It seemed he wasn’t the only one whose thoughts had been on
their morning together.

Ash felt a pull inside him to go to Jackson, wrap him in his arms, kiss him before
the media. It wouldn’t be the first time the paparazzi caught him kissing a guy,
but it would be Jackson’s and that’s what stopped him. He knew Jackson wasn’t
ready. Just because he lived life out loud didn’t mean he wasn’t able to
understand how difficult it was for Jackson. Celebrity or not, it was a personal
decision that only the person going through it could know when the time was
right, and until Jackson felt it was right, he wouldn’t pressure him. But he
would stay a friend to him. He’d already decided that. Even if the intimate side
of their relationship ended after this concert, he wanted to stay close to
Jackson to always be able to support him.

A shout from a reporter broke through Ash’s thoughts.

“Ash Ivers! Over here! Ash!”

Ash looked at the guy standing on the outer circle of the group surrounding
Jackson. Other paparazzi whipped around, cameras aimed at him, more calling
him to come nearer. Ash lifted a hand, waving them off. All he’d wanted was to
get a glimpse of Jackson. He’d gotten that so he could get by for a few hours
more. Ash turned to leave, finding himself already getting surrounded by
media.

A paparazzo pushed in front of him. “Ash! You realize Jackson Abrams is
standing less than twenty feet away, don’t you?”

Ash snorted at the guy’s over-enthusiasm. “I thought it was more like thirty,
but yeah, I saw him.”

“How do you feel about playing this concert with him?” another asked.

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“It’s not like we’re going to be on stage together,” Ash said. “There are a hell of
a lot of performers playing today, not just me and him.”

“Yeah, but how do you feel about his comment that you’re not right for this
event because of your promiscuity?”

“Goddamn, why does everyone think I’m such a manwhore? Listen, as far as
that comment goes, it’s water under the bridge. I don’t have any hard feelings
against Jackson for it.”

Another voice spoke up, one Ash knew well.

“Y’all need to quit trying to get us into another argument. And furthermore,”
Jackson stopped at Ash’s side and laid his hand on Ash’s shoulder, “I owe Ash
an apology for that comment.” He looked at him. “It was wrong of me to make
assumptions about your personal life, and I’m sorry. You and From Ashes
couldn’t be a better choice to play this concert.”

Ash stared at him, speechless, and it seemed for the split-second of silence, so
were the reporters. The paparazzi rebounded with a barrage of questions, one
being the most popular, just asked various ways.

“What happened between you two?”

“Have you called a truce?”

“Are you friends now?”

“What broke the animosity between you?”

Ash snapped back to the moment and looked to the reporters, holding up a
hand. “Hey! Cool it! If you want answers, stop asking questions.” With saying
that, he wondered how he was going to answer. Jackson started this show,
now he was in the middle of it. He was so going to bitch at him for this one. As
the reporters grew quieter, Ash glanced toward Jackson, trying to prompt him

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with a look. Hopefully he’d planned a way out.

Jackson draped his arm around Ash’s shoulders, speaking to the crowd. “You
see, the nice thing about this show is no media is allowed over by the artists’
trailers and buses. No offense to any of you, but y’all can be kind of noisy and
nosey.”

The reporters chuckled lightly at Jackson’s joke.

“And another nice thing about it, this is the first time Ash and I ever got a
chance to really talk without pressure from anyone else. There have been a lot
of misunderstandings over the past few years between us, but we’re putting all
that behind us. Besides, I have a confession to make.” Jackson paused, letting
the paparazzi squirm with wanting the news. “I’m actually a huge From Ashes
fan. Have been even since before I beat them at the Grammy’s for Best New
Artist.”

Ash laughed. “You just had to get that dig in, didn’t you?”

The reporters didn’t seem as amused. If anything, they appeared disappointed.
Ash figured it was most likely because they were seeing a guaranteed source of
income vanishing now that he and Jackson were publicly calling an end to their
feud.

Another paparazzo spoke up. “What about you, Ash? Do you feel the same way
as Jackson?”

Ash tossed his arm around Jackson’s shoulders. “I’m standing here beside him,
aren’t I? Seriously, you guys should be ashamed of yourselves, acting depressed
because we’re not fighting anymore. When people can overlook the things that
make them different from each other, even something as small as the kind of
music they like, it’s good for them and everyone around them.”

A few grumbles of agreement came from the reporters, but slowly they began
filing away. They still snapped shots of him and Jackson together, since it would

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be the last big story they’d get on them. Ash allowed himself a smirk. Or so
they thought. He and Jackson could hit the media in a whole other way
someday.

With the paparazzi gone in search of more profitable stories and fans having
cleared away for a moment, Ash turned to Jackson, taking in how he was
dressed in a tight white tank top, black leather pants, and black cowboy boots.
“Damn. I’ve never seen you dressed like this before.”

“I dress like this a lot for my concerts.” Jackson touched the top of his leather
pants. “I’ve got a little bit of rock ‘n roll in me too, you know.”

“There’re so many places I want to go with that, but I’ll just say, yeah, I know.
Those pants look amazing on you. Even with the big gold belt buckle of the bull
with its ass in the air.”

Jackson chuckled. “It’s bucking.”

Ash stepped closer to him, his voice lowering against listening ears. “Well
whatever its doing, it’s not attractive, but it’s also hardly noticeable with the
way those pants hug your crotch. You’re not wearing underwear, are you?”

“There’s only one way for you to find out.”

“With that kind of invitation, maybe we should head back to your trailer.”

An excited female interrupted, calling, “Ash Ivers! Jackson Abrams!”

Ash turned to see three women approaching them, the backstage passes
around their necks revealing them as fans. He glanced back to Jackson. “We’re
going to finish this talk as soon as possible.” He looked to the women. “Hey,
ladies! Welcome to the show.” He offered his hand to the closest. “What are
your names?”

The woman took his hand. “I’m Mel. It’s great to meet you.”

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“Thank you.” Ash shook the next woman’s hand. “And you are…”

“Tina. We were all hoping we’d get to meet you today.” She looked at Jackson.
“Both of you.”

Jackson followed Ash’s example and started shaking the women’s hands.
“That’s very kind of you.”

Ash extended his hand to the last woman. “And you?”

“Laura. I’m so excited to meet both of you! Would it be okay if we took a
couple pictures with you guys?”

“Absolutely,” Ash said, flagging down a staff member to act as photographer.

He and Jackson posed with each one individually, then stood in a group, their
arms around the three women. Ash spoke while keeping his smile for the
pictures, “I’m not sure who just touched my ass, but whoever it was, if you
want to grope on me do it harder next time. I like it rough.”

Laughter broke out from everyone. Jackson shook his head at him. Ash gave
him a covert wink, making Jackson laugh harder.

Collecting her camera from the staff member, Mel turned back to Ash and
Jackson. “I’m surprised to see you both together. All that fighting between you
guys, was that just for show?”

Ash shook his head. “No, that was totally legit. But with playing this gig, we
talked and realized we’ve got more in common than the petty crap we’ve been
fighting about.”

All three gave nods that seemed all too knowing.

“We’re glad to hear that,” Tina said. “Makes life easier on us fans.”

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“Yeah, now we can feel like it’s okay to love on both of you and not be cheating
on the other,” Laura added.

Jackson looked to Ash. “Well damn. We should’ve done this long ago if that’s
how people have felt. We can share each other’s fans now.”

Ash folded his arms across his chest, his expression getting an annoyed tint.
“You know, I never thought of that. I need to have a serious talk with my
manager. He should’ve thought of it for me. I’ve been missing out on fans
because of it.”

“But not too many, I think,” Mel said. She lifted her hand in a wave as she and
her friends turned away. “Thanks for the pictures. We can’t wait to see you
guys on stage!”

Jacked waved back, lowering his voice for only Ash’s ears. “Why did it seem like
they knew something that no one else should know?”

Ash shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe they saw you grope my ass.”

“Now I can say I wasn’t the one who did that.” Jackson grinned and dipped his
head toward him, his voice hushing in a deeper tone. “But it’s good to know
how I should when I do.”

Ash brushed Jackson’s hand with his fingertips. “I like you picking up where we
left off. Let’s go to your trailer and finish.”

“I want to, but the show’s going to kick off soon and I gotta get ready to go on.”

“But you’re one of the closers.”

“Yeah, well, you know how they moved you and your guys to anchor the
middle? They moved me up to come out second after the openers.”

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“That’s bullshit!”

Jackson startled back at Ash’s bellow.

Ash raised a hand in apology. “I mean, it’s not bullshit that you’ve got that spot,
but damn it, that’s where I wanted to play.” His voice shifted to hold an
accusatory edge. “Did you know that we’d been in that spot originally and took
it anyhow?”

“Yeah, but-”

“I can’t freakin’ believe it!”

“Will you give me a minute to explain?”

“You just said all I needed to hear.” Ash spun, marching away from him.

Jackson stood still, watching him leave. He glanced around, seeing everyone
staring at him. Embarrassment rose in him, but even more, hurt filled him. How
could Ash think he’d taken the spot on purpose? He didn’t have any say where
he played in the concert, and it had all been arranged before he and Ash ever
talked. Obviously Ash still hadn’t bothered looking at the new list.

A voice near him spoke up. “Guess things aren’t as friendly as you guys made it
seem, huh?”

Jackson shot a glare at the smirking paparazzo. He walked forward, turning in
the direction of the artists’ area, despite how badly he wanted to follow after
Ash. Talking to him would have to wait, no matter how much it hurt him. The
show had to go on.


CHAPTER 8

Ash rushed for the stage, shoving between people. It seemed all day, people

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had done nothing but get in his way, and now his patience with everyone was
at an end. He needed to reach the stage. This is what he got for being an
ass…again.

Ahead of him, Ash saw the stairs leading up to the stage, and at the bottom of
them stood Jackson. Jackson had his head bowed, his eyes closed, seeming lost
within himself. The MC’s voice blasted through the stadium, announcing him as
the next performer. Jackson crossed himself, lifted his head, and jumped up
two of the stairs to run up the rest.

“Jackson!”

Jackson froze and whipped around, his gaze searching the people and resting
on Ash.

Ash reached the bottom of the stairs and smiled up at him. “Go kick some ass.”

Jackson glowed with a bright smile. He nodded and turned for the stage,
grabbing the mic from a stagehand and greeting the raucous crowd as he
walked to the center.

“Looks like he forgave you.”

Ash looked to Jeremy, who’d caught up to him and now stood at his side.
“Yeah. Again. We might not be good at communicating, but at least we’re good
at forgiving so far.”

Devin stopped behind Ash, puffing for breath. “Goddamn, I’ve never seen you
move so fast.”

“I wanted to see him before he hit the stage. And look at you, you’re about to
pass out. You need to start doing less weights and more cardio in your
workouts.”

“Hey, we’re coming off the road after this. I don’t need to do shit but get out of

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bed everyday.”

Chad stepped around to Ash’s other side. “And maybe you wouldn’t have had
to rush if you would’ve pulled your head out of your ass sooner.”

Devin clapped Ash on the back. “You and him really will make a perfect couple,
though. What with how you fly off the handle and him being so forgiving.”

“There’s been a little forgiveness on my end, too,” Ash said, then silenced as
Jackson’s band launched into his most popular single, “No Lookin’ Back.”

Two electric guitars blasted to life with a pounding beat from the drums and a
steady undercurrent rhythm coming out of the bass. This was one of his
favorite songs by Jackson. It had a country vibe, but Jackson rocked it out. As
Jackson let his deep voice flow, Ash felt his heartbeat quicken. He never denied
how sexy of a voice Jackson had, but hearing it now after knowing what it
sounded like in pleasure, the low growling groans and higher moans, gave it a
whole new quality.

Jackson moved with such confidence across the stage, owning it for every
second he was on it, inviting the crowd into his song. Ash knew Jackson wasn’t
much of one to dance when performing, but he didn’t have to. His charisma
and talent held people captivated with him just being who he was.

After the song, Jackson’s band shifted gears with a ballad, changing once again
after that to a song that was a throwback to classic country style. Every artist
was doing a three song set for the concert, and for his, Jackson demonstrated
just how diverse he was in his music. Ash almost laughed aloud at himself. He
was slipping into fanboy mode. But he had good reason. Jackson was more
than deserving of his admiration, in many ways.

Jeremy shook his head as the last song drew to a close. “Gotta admit, he’s
damn good.”

“Tell me about it,” Ash said.

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Devin looked at Ash with an expression both confused and concerned. “You
okay? You sounded all…”

Ash glanced at him. “All what?”

Chad finished for Devin. “All like you’re crushing hardcore.”

Ash let out a doubtful snort. “I don’t crush.” He turned his attention to Jackson
jogging down the stairs. “Hey! You freakin’ rocked-”

Jackson snatched Ash by the back of the arm, dragging him forward a few quick
steps. “My trailer. Now.” He dipped his head in acknowledgement toward the
other members of From Ashes as he marched by. He released Ash’s arm, but
kept his pace quick.

Ash navigated around people, working to keep up with Jackson. “So I’m
guessing you’re still pissed after all.”

The only response Jackson gave him was a backward glance.

Ash sighed loud. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad earlier. It was stupid to get upset
at you taking the spot. I’m sorry, okay?”

“And now it’s you wanting to do the talking when I want to do something else.”

Ash stared at Jackson’s back. He saw a glimpse of Jackson’s profile and the
smirk he wore, and it hit exactly what Jackson was saying. Ash walked faster,
catching up to Jackson and moving a little ahead of him. “You said your trailer,
right?”

“Right.”

“Walk quicker, then.”

Ash heard Jackson softly laughing, but also noticed he did walk faster.

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They reached the trailer, Jackson unlocking the door. Ash bounded up the
stairs, turning to find Jackson close behind him. Jackson took Ash’s face in both
hands, claiming his lips in a passionate kiss. He pushed his tongue into Ash’s
mouth and held him in place as he thrust into it over and over again.

Ash wrapped his arms around him, gripping the back of Jackson’s tank top in
two fists. With the day being so warm and the exertion Jackson had just put out
on stage, the material was wet with sweat. Ash breathed deep through his
nose, pulling in Jackson’s scent, the spicy cologne edged with sweat. His arousal
hit a new level. The only thing that could make the scents better would be if
the smell of cum was mixed in. Ash broke the kiss and touched his tongue to
the bottom of Jackson’s throat. He licked a long line up it, savoring the salt of
Jackson’s skin.

As he drew back, Jackson steered him toward the small bed in back. Ash lifted
his shirt off on the way and heard Jackson’s removing his as well. Reaching the
bed, Ash finished stripping as Jackson collected lube and a condom. Sitting on
the bed’s edge, Ash spread his legs wide and took his cock in hand, watching
Jackson remove the rest of his clothes. As Jackson’s leather pants came down,
Ash’s gaze went to Jackson’s cock, a rush of desire and excitement going
through him at knowing he’d get to have the long, thick rod inside him.

Jackson stepped in front of him, and with his index finger, beckoned him to
stand.

Ash stood and moved close to him, his cock brushing Jackson’s. He angled his
head so their lips nearly touched. “I like this assertive side of you.”

Jackson drifted his fingertips down Ash’s arm. “After I got over being hurt at
your fit earlier, all I could think about was getting you alone and fucking you
until you were too tired to give me attitude.”

A few deep chuckles sounded in Ash’s throat. “If that’s how you’re going to
handle me every time I get shitty, I’ll be sure to throw attitude at you

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constantly.”

Jackson gave him another kiss with smiling lips, ending it with a light bite to
Ash’s bottom lip. He spun Ash around and pushed him. Ash dropped forward,
catching himself on the bed with both hands. He glanced back at Jackson.
“Damn, you’re not holding back.”

Jackson laid a firm slap on Ash’s ass. Ash sucked in a breath at the sting of pain
giving him a rush of pleasure.

“You said you like it rough,” Jackson said.

“I did and I do.”

Jackson cracked Ash’s other ass cheek. “Then get the rest of the way up there.”

Ash crawled fully onto the bed, Jackson close behind him. He started to lower
to his elbows, stopping as Jackson slipped an arm under his chest. With his
other hand, Jackson gripped Ash’s hair and pulled, making him kneel upright.
He pressed tight against him, his hips working his cock on Ash’s ass.

Jackson yanked Ash’s head to the side, licking and sucking at his neck. Ash
reached back and grabbed one of Jackson’s firm ass cheeks, encouraging him to
grind on his ass harder. Jackson pressed against him more and rubbed down
Ash’s abdomen to his cock, wrapping his fingers around it in a tight fist.

Ash rocked his hips toward Jackson’s hand. Jackson’s hold on him tightened,
humping against him faster. Knowing neither of them were going to last if they
kept it up, Ash laid a hand over Jackson’s that was stroking him. “You need to
get in me before I lose it.”

Jackson nodded, his breathing already quick. He pushed on Ash’s back between
his shoulders, and Ash went forward to his elbows, lifting his ass for him.
Jackson grabbed the lube and coated his fingers, pushing one inside him.

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Ash groaned low in his throat. Finally. It felt so good to have something inside
him. But, it was also a tease for what he really wanted. He shifted back, trying
to get Jackson’s full finger inside him. “Don’t take too long with the prep work.”

Jackson rotated his hand back and forth, his finger turning inside Ash. “We’ve
got plenty of time before you have to go on.”

“But not so much before I spontaneously come and I’d rather you fuck me to
it.”

Jackson worked a second finger into him. “Don’t make me get out a cock ring.”

Ash whipped his head to the side, trying to see him. “You don’t seriously have
cock rings.”

Jackson answered him with a wicked smirk.

Ash closed his eyes, smiling. Jackson became a great match for him more with
each second.

Jackson pulled his fingers out him. At the sound of the condom wrapper
crinkling, Ash shifted his legs further apart. He felt Jackson slide up close to
him. He waited, trying to keep his body calm despite the need inside him.
Instead of Jackson’s cock, three lubed fingers pushed into his hole.

Ash dropped his head to the bed between his arms. “Damn it.”

Jackson rubbed the palm of his other hand over Ash’s ass. “You really want my
cock, don’t you?”

“My ass in the air isn’t a big enough hint?”

Jackson swatted Ash’s ass again. “Sarcasm doesn’t belong in the bedroom.”

“Maybe not, but fucking does, so let’s get to it.”

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Jackson grinned, but still withdrew his fingers from him.

Ash felt the wet and wrapped tip of Jackson’s cock on his hole. A moan escaped
him just at knowing what was to come. Jackson pressed into him. Ash sucked in
a deep breath, letting it out in a rush as the broad cock-head stretched his rim.

Jackson sank into him until he was buried to his base. He held Ash’s hips in both
hands, taking a moment to enjoy the heat and tightness of him. Before he
could start thrusting, Ash’s impatience took over with him bumping back
against Jackson.

Jackson looked down, watching Ash fuck himself on his cock. The sight of Ash
once again holding nothing back in working to get his pleasure snapped
Jackson’s control. Holding Ash’s hips, he yanked him back hard. A choked gasp
slipped from Ash’s throat, but from how he slammed against him in return,
Jackson knew he’d given Ash what he wanted. He pulled Ash back again as he
thrust forward, setting a hard, fast rhythm.

Ash panted short moans each time Jackson’s body met his. He stopped trying
to move and surrendered his body to Jackson’s control. He craved it like this,
and Jackson’s cock filled and worked him so beautifully. Pre-cum dripped from
his own. Gripping the sheet in one hand, he reached under himself with the
other, jerking it in quick strokes to match Jackson’s thrusting.

Jackson leaned over Ash’s back. He slipped a hand under him, pulling Ash’s off
his cock. “I want to make you come completely.”

Ash spoke between quick breaths. “It’s not going to take much more.”

Jackson pulled at Ash’s cock, Ash’s moans growing louder. Ash shuddered and
heaved back against him, his body constricting and releasing as he came. Warm
cum slicked Jackson’s hand and sent him into his own orgasm.

He rested a hand on Ash’s back, giving them both a moment to catch their

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breath before slowly pulling out of him. He let out a groan at leaving Ash’s
warmth, but climbed off the bed and went to the small bathroom to discard
the condom. He stepped back out from the bathroom, stopping in place to
admire Ash.

Ash had flipped over to his back, lying with his legs wide apart, one arm tossed
above his head. His softening cock rested toward his left hip, still wet with cum.
He looked spent, relaxed, satisfied, and so very beautiful.

Jackson slid onto the bed, bowing his head and sucking Ash’s cock into his
mouth. They both needed recovery time, but he still couldn’t resist tasting him.
Ash groaned, placing his hand on Jackson’s head. Jackson slowly drew up and
let Ash’s cock gently fall back to his body. He kissed up Ash’s stomach to his
chest, pausing to tease each nipple ring with his tongue. He kissed higher to
Ash’s collarbone, and Ash tipped his head back, giving his throat to him.
Jackson licked up it and reached Ash’s lips. They met in a languid kiss, Jackson
lying down beside him as it drew to a slow end.

Ash exhaled a contented sigh. “I really don’t feel like performing now.”

“You got a couple hours to rest before you have to.”

“Yeah, but in a couple hours, I’ll want sex again. And I always get lazy after
being fucked. I just want to sleep, then get it again.”

Jackson rubbed his hand across Ash’s chest. “We can still do that.”

Ash rolled his head to the side, looking at him, his voice soft as he spoke. “Hey,
I really am sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have blown up like that.”

“It’s alright. But I didn’t take your spot on purpose. When I was told about the
change, things weren’t the way they are now between us.”

“I know. I never looked at the lineup, so it was my own fault for not knowing.”
Ash flipped onto his side toward him. His fingertips moved over Jackson’s cheek

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in a light caress. “I have a tendency to explode over little crap…and big crap,
too. Well, pretty much any kind of crap.”

Jackson chuckled. “Yeah, I kind of already figured that out about you.”

“Even knowing that, you still want to hang around me? Because for a lot of
people, it wears on them.”

Jackson took Ash’s hand in his, a serious tone entering his voice. “Yeah, I do. I
don’t see it wearing on me. It might get frustrating at times, but,” he touched
his smiling lips to Ash’s hand, “it’ll take more than temper tantrums to scare me
off.”

Ash slid closer to him, tangling his legs with Jackson’s. “I guess there’s some
truth to the strong, silent cowboy thing. Well, except you’re not very silent.
Like, at all.”

“I’m silent a lot. I have to be because your lips are always moving.”

Ash brought his lips a fraction from touching Jackson’s. “Sometimes they’re
moving in a good way, though, right?”

Jackson answered him with a kiss.

As it ended, Ash tucked his head against him. Wrapped in Jackson’s warmth,
one thought fluttered through Ash’s mind; he wished he could hold off
tomorrow, because when it came, he and Jackson would be going their
separate ways.


CHAPTER 9

Ash stood front and center on stage before the erupting crowd. He flung his
arms up, encouraging more, and the crowd responded in a deafening roar.
Devin pounded the drums in a single, deep beat. Ash pumped his fist in the air
on each one. He took a breath and lifted his mic, his voice leaving him in a low,

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long note, getting louder, going higher, until his baritone voice pitched up to his
rocker scream. Jeremy’s guitar, Chad’s bass, and Devin’s drums jumped into
their hard rock song, “Not This Time,” and Ash launched into singing.

Jackson stood offstage, focused on Ash. They were so different in their
performance styles. Whereas he just walked the stage, occasionally jogged
across it for his higher energy songs, Ash never stopped moving. Ash stood so
close to the stage’s edge he seemed in danger of slipping off, then he spun
back around, his hips, his body, moving with the music as he strutted toward
Jeremy, throwing his arm around the guitarist. Through it all, not once did Ash’s
voice waver off-key or did he miss a note. It amazed Jackson, like so many
things about Ash did.

Jackson took a deep breath, hoping to loosen the tightness in his chest. As
captivated as he was by the performance, his thoughts kept distracting him. He
needed to talk to Ash and finally ask him something he’d been holding in since
before Ash’s anger spell that morning. After they’d smoothed everything over
in the afternoon, things felt so good between them, he didn’t want to risk
upsetting it. Even now he wondered if he was crazy for considering what he
was.

What if he was taking things too much to heart? What if the things he was
starting to feel weren’t even close to what Ash was? It wasn’t like he was a
stranger to flings. If anything, he was more of a stranger to a real long-term
relationship. But for some reason, what he felt when he was with Ash made
him want to believe it was more than a fling. They came from different
lifestyles, different backgrounds, different music styles, but when he looked
into Ash’s eyes, he’d never met anyone who seemed so familiar.

From Ashes finished their set with Ash flinging the microphone behind him and
it falling to the stage with a boom. Jackson headed down the stairs to meet him
at the bottom. Ash reached the stairs, jogged down half and jumped. He landed
on the ground and spun.

“Fuck yeah! Now that’s how you kick ass!” Ash spied Clint Murray standing

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near by and jabbed his index finger toward him. “Try following that!”

Clint rolled his eyes in a disgusted look and turned away.

Jackson laughed. “Just because we’ve made peace doesn’t mean you gotta go
starting a feud with another country artist.”

“The hell it doesn’t,” Ash said. “He’s done nothing but give me shitty looks
every time I walk by him.” He lifted his voice, looking in Clint’s direction. “But
now he sees how the big boys play!”

Jeremy shoved Ash on the back to get him walking. “Seriously, man, let’s have a
little bit of peace.”

Ash slowed so Jackson walked at his side. “So what’d you think of our set?”

“You were incredible. All of you were. But I already knew you were a hell of a
performer.” Jackson pointed to Ash’s steel belt buckle of a large skull. “I’m not
sure about that, though. You sat there making fun of my big belt buckle and
look at you.”

Ash touched the skull buckle. “Yeah, but look at the difference between them.
A skull versus a bull’s ass. Which is cooler?”

Devin glanced back at them. “I kinda like Jackson’s better.”

Ash snorted. “Figures.”

Chad spoke up. “Either way, you like big ass belt buckles, too. You wear a lot of
them.”

“Because they add a little flash to my outfits.”

Jackson leaned toward him as they walked. “Maybe it means you’ve got a little
country in you, after all.”

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Ash turned a smirk on him. “Well, I did enjoy the country that was in me
earlier.” He lightly touched Jackson’s hand. “Let’s go to your trailer again.”

“Alright.”

Ash lifted his voice for his band members. “I’ll catch you guys back at the bus in
a little bit.”

His band members nodded and waved, all seeming to know what he was going
off to do.

They reached Jackson’s trailer. Jackson climbed the steps behind him. Now was
the time. He’d have Ash alone. All he had to do was ask him. What was the
worst that could happen? Ash would say no. As matter-of-factly as Jackson
tried to reason it, his heart still tightened at the thought.

Ash moved toward him, concern on his face. “Is everything alright? You’re not
mad that I was taunting Clint, are you?”

“No, I don’t care about that.” Jackson took Ash’s hand and pulled him toward
the couch. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Ash sat next to him, giving him a smile. “You always do. Don’t you remember
what I told you to say you wanted to do instead?”

“Yeah, but what I want to talk about will probably determine whether or not
much more of that happens.”

The humor faded from Ash’s expression. “This can’t be good.”

Jackson sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees, letting his hat hide his
face. “Well, it might be good. But judging from your reaction just now, I don’t
think it will be. Not for me, anyhow.”

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Ash laid a hand on Jackson’s thigh. “What’s going on?”

Jackson glanced toward him. “What were you planning on doing after tonight?”

“We’re going back to L.A. And once I get home, I’m planning on not getting out
of bed for at least a week other than to eat, shower, and use the bathroom.
We’ve been on the road a long time, and I’m feeling a little burned out. Why?”

“It’s just, there’s a lot about each other we don’t know. And I don’t know how
you feel, but I’d like to get to know you better, spend some time with you away
from all this craziness. So I was wondering if you’d maybe like to come home
with me. It wouldn’t have to be long. A couple days, a week, whatever you
wanted. I just thought, maybe, we could see if there might be something here,
between us.”

Ash stared at him, silent for a moment. “Come home with you? To Texas?”

“Yeah.”

“To your ranch?”

Jackson cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

Ash nodded slowly, as if he was finally clear on what Jackson was saying.

Jackson glanced away from him. Ash didn’t have to speak for him to know what
his answer was. He should’ve realized what was happening between them was
nothing more than two guys having a good time.

Ash took a breath. “Well, that’s not really what I had in mind to do.”

Jackson nodded. “That’s alright. I kind of already knew you’d rather just go
home.”

“Yeah, I do. That’s why I was going to invite you back with me, but I’ve never

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been to a ranch before, so it could be…interesting. I guess we could go to your
place first, spend some time there, then you could come to L.A. with me.”

Jackson snapped his head toward him. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah, I’m serious. If you’re going to make me tiptoe around horse shit for a
week, you better believe I’m going to drag you out to my turf.”

“I meant, you’re serious about wanting to spend more time with me?”

Ash looked at him in confusion. “That’s what you just invited me to do, wasn’t
it?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d really accept.”

“So, is that your way of saying you didn’t want me to?”

“Hell no! I’m just surprised, that’s all. I didn’t think you’d want…” Jackson
stopped his words, not wanting to voice how he thought Ash wouldn’t want to
spend more time with him. From how Ash’s expression softened, it seemed Ash
knew his thoughts, anyway. He pulled Ash into a tight embrace. “I’m not going
to say anything else. Just that I’m glad you’re going to come home with me.”

Ash rested his head against Jackson’s, his arms wrapped around him. “We
really need to work on this communication thing, you know?”

Jackson sat back and cupped Ash’s cheek. “We’ll have some time to work on
that.”

A grin shone over Ash’s lips. He pushed on Jackson’s shoulders to get him to
lean back and slid onto his lap, straddling him. “I was hoping we could work on
it now, using what we seem to communicate best on as a starting point.”

Jackson rubbed his hands over Ash’s ass. “I like that plan.”

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He met Ash in a long, slow kiss. Once again, Ash had amazed him, and in the
best way yet.

CHAPTER 10

Ash stepped out of Jackson’s home to the porch. The two-story mansion was
on a slight rise, giving a full view of Jackson’s property. Two barns and an
indoor riding arena were to one side. An outdoor riding arena, set up with pens
and shoots for roping, were situated nearby. The pastures rolled out into the
distance, lined in black wood fencing, a stream coursing through them. In one
pasture, a few cattle napped in the shade. In the others, horses meandered as
they grazed.

When they arrived in the early afternoon the day before, he and Jackson had
gone pretty much from the car to bed, which was fine by him. He was tired and
horny, and had wanted both taken care of quick. Ash folded his arms across his
chest a leaned one shoulder against a post. A small smile came to his lips. Now,
though, even he had to admit, standing here looking over Jackson’s property, it
felt right.

He wasn’t so much of a diehard city boy that he didn’t enjoy the outdoors.
Hiking was one of his favorite hobbies. Sequoia and King’s Canyon National
Park was truly his favorite place in the world. He could disappear in there for
days, wandering the forest and trails. During the band’s downtime, he always
took trips to other national parks and natural places around the world.

As much as he enjoyed it, he never had a desire to live a country life. He loved
the city, having shopping, clubs, plenty of men, at his fingertips. But there was
so much peace here. No noise other than the birds and occasional whinny from
a horse. He understood better why Jackson enjoyed it, especially with the
hectic life of being a famed musician. Here, Jackson could be himself.

Ash heard the door open behind him, and a moment later, strong arms slipped
around his waist.

Jackson kissed the side of Ash’s neck. “Enjoying the view?”

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Ash laid his hands over Jackson’s. “Yeah, I am. It’s really nice here.”

“I’m glad you’re liking it. We’ll have to go down to the pastures so you can
meet the horses. A couple of mares foaled this past spring.” Jackson lifted his
hand, pointing to the pastures. “The mares are in that one, the geldings are
over there. Then there’s just a few of the cattle that me, my family, and some
friends chase around and rope. When I’m in town, we usually get together
most weekends, play and have a barbeque.”

Ash turned his head toward Jackson, smiling at him. “I really want to see you
rope a cow.”

“I was thinking of having everyone over this weekend, if you felt up to meeting
all the crazies in my family.”

“That’d be cool.” Ash faced Jackson, resting his arms on Jackson’s shoulders in
a loose embrace. “Do your family and friends know you’re gay?”

“My family does, and my close friends do. They’re the ones who come over.
But outside of them, except for Elizabeth no one in music knows, not even the
guys who play for me.”

“I got that impression from the way they looked at me.” Ash glanced back at
the property. “It has to be a relief to get away from it all. I know when I’m
coming off the road, it always feels so good knowing I can be in my own home,
sleep in my own bed, go to the places that are familiar to me. But for you, it’s
more than a comfort thing. It’s getting to relax into being who you really are.”

Jackson pulled Ash tight against him, closing his eyes as he rested his head on
Ash’s shoulder. “You really understand.”

Ash gently ran one hand up and down Jackson’s back. “Of course I do. The
differences we have are only on the surface. We have all the important things
in common.”

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Jackson nodded and lifted his head. “So, you want a tour of this place?”

“If it doesn’t involve me having to ride one of those,” Ash flicked his hand
toward one of the pastures with the horses, “I’m all for it.”

“How about we ride in that instead?” Jackson nodded toward a Polaris two-
seater UTV parked nearby.

“That works.”

Jackson leaned toward him, kissing him lightly on the lips. “Let’s pack up a few
things. We can go for a swim afterwards.”

“Why do we need to pack anything? I saw your pool out back.”

Jackson turned for the house. “Because we’re not going to swim in the pool.”

Ash followed him. “Just so you know, that statement scared me a little.”

“I’m just going to show you how to have a good time in the country.”

“And that just scared me even more.”

Ash smiled listening to Jackson laugh. It had such a deep tone, rich and warm.
He glanced around Jackson’s home as they walked through it. The entire place
was decorated to have a Western flavor, masculine and tastefully done. It was
another thing opposite from him. His home in L.A. was done in cool, light colors
to have a trendy edge, but he couldn’t deny he liked the earthy feel of
Jackson’s place. Something about it made him feel instantly comfortable.

He helped Jackson make sandwiches and pack a cooler with drinks. They
collected towels, a blanket, and in his opinion, the most important things, lube
and condoms. With the UTV loaded, Ash climbed in the passenger side. Jackson
got behind the wheel and drove down the dirt lane to the pastures, going to

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the geldings first. At the sight of them approaching, some of the horses lifted
their heads and wandered toward the fence.

Jackson pointed to a buckskin tobiano Paint, his coat splashed in light tan spots,
his mane and tail a blend of black and white. “That’s Rustler. He’s my favorite
and knows it. He takes advantage of me for treats.” He turned in the seat and
opened the cooler, pulling out a bag of carrots.

“So that’s what those are for,” Ash said. “I thought you were either having a
serious beta carotene craving or we were going to get into some food kink.”

“Of all the things I’d like to do with you, I really don’t think I’d go there.”

Ash snickered and took a carrot Jackson handed to him. A black Quarter Horse
with white socks on all four legs and a white blaze, hung his head over the
fence. Ash went to him, petting him as he fed him the carrot. “This one’s cool.”

“That’s Twister. He’s damn quick around the barrels, but also a good riding
horse in general.”

“Barrels?”

“You know, barrel racing? You run a cloverleaf pattern around three barrels
trying to get as fast a time as you can.”

Ash gave him a blank stare.

Jackson shook his head. “I’ve got a lot to teach you.”

“Seriously. This is a whole new world for me. I like being outside, hiking,
exploring, but this kind of lifestyle, horses, cattle, rodeo stuff, I’ve never come
close to. But you know, life is all about new experiences, so I’m willing to give
this stuff a shot.” He bumped his shoulder playfully against Jackson’s. “Besides,
The City Mouse and the Country Mouse was one of my favorite bedtime stories
when I was a kid.”

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Laughter broke from Jackson again. “At least you got a good foundation laid
early on for this kind of relationship.”

Ash chuckled with him. “I think so.”

After visiting with the horses, they climbed back into the UTV. Jackson drove
beyond the pastures, going off the road, following along the stream as he
headed toward a sparse patch of trees. Ash saw the stream came off a large
pond, that was further fed by a stream on the other side.

Jackson stopped the UTV near the bank and winked at Ash. “Sometimes it’s fun
to get away from the pool and skinny dip a little closer to nature.”

“I could definitely get used to country living if this is something you do a lot.”

Jackson lifted the cooler from the back of the UTV. “I do, actually. Only, I’m
always alone.”

Ash snapped out the blanket and spread it over the grass. “Now that’s just
sad.”

“Well, to be honest, I spend a lot of time alone. I mean, I have family and
friends over a lot, and when I’m in the studio or on tour, I’m never alone, but
it’s not the same.”

Ash glanced at him. He could hear the loneliness in Jackson’s voice, and it hurt
him how Jackson had isolated himself because he feared not being accepted in
his music genre because of his sexuality. Ash went to him and embraced him
from behind. “But you’re not alone now.”

Jackson leaned back against him. “And I’m glad for that.”

He turned in Ash’s arms, meeting him in a kiss as he slipped his hands under
Ash’s shirt, needing to feel his bare skin. Between kisses, they stripped more

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clothes from the other until they both stood bare, bodies pressed together.

Jackson grinned through the kiss, speaking with his lips on Ash’s. “Race ya.” He
slapped Ash’s ass, and turned, sprinting for the pond.

Ash laughed and ran after him.

Jackson hit the water first, diving forward and swimming toward the pond’s
center. Ash caught up to him and tackled him under, Jackson pulling him
beneath as well. Both broke the surface, laughing. Jackson wrapped his arms
around him. Ash held onto him as they found each other’s lips again.

Jackson moved them through the water toward a shallower spot near the
pond’s edge. Ash slowly drew back from the kiss and pulled himself up on a flat
rock, his legs dangling in the water. He waved his hand, inviting Jackson to sit
between his legs. Jackson sat on a rock beneath the water, raised up so the
water only came to his waist. He leaned back, resting an arm over one of Ash’s
legs.

Ash started massaging Jackson’s shoulders, earning a groan of appreciation
from him. “This was a good idea.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“Yeah. But you know, I seem to enjoy everything I do with you.” Ash leaned
down, placing a kiss on Jackson’s cheek. “Even fighting.”

A few deep chuckles rumbled from Jackson’s throat. “I’ll go with that, too.”

“I feel really good about what’s happening between us, but I want you to know,
no matter what happens, you’re never going to be alone. Whenever you need
support about coming out, or even about not coming out, I’ll always be here for
you.”

Jackson turned his head and tipped it back, gazing up at him, wanting to

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express his gratitude for Ash’s words, but Ash stopped him with a smirk and an
exaggerated sigh.

“The only problem is, now that the paparazzi know we’re not fighting anymore,
it means we can hang out more often, and that’s really going to knock down my
image of a rock star with a dick of an attitude. People are going to start thinking
your nice boy ways will rub off on me.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about with that. You couldn’t look
like a nice boy if Gandhi was your best friend.”

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment, but I’m going to.” Ash saw
Jackson still gazing up at him with a grin. “Why are you looking at me like
that?”

“I’m just admiring you. You’re so sexy with your black eyeliner on, but seeing
you right now without it, you look incredible.”

Ash bent down to him again, dipping one hand into the water in front of
Jackson. “See, I must be turning into a nice boy already. A little sappiness like
that, and you’ve got me melting for you.”

“Then maybe you can be a nice boy just with me.”

“I’d like that.”

Ash touched his lips to Jackson’s, feeling Jackson’s care for him in the kiss and
knowing there were so many more moments like this ahead of them.

THE END

Author bio: S.J. Frost resides in Ohio with her family and pets. Her short stories
have been featured in several romance and erotica anthologies, and her M/M
erotic romance novels are published at MLR Press. To learn more about her

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writing, please feel welcomed to visit

www.sjfrost.com

and

http://sj-

frost.blogspot.com/.


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