Seeking Kokopelli Read online

  “Why did you stop?” Curiosity glinted in Nate’s eyes, and the anxiety in Adam seeped away. Everything would work out between them.

  “I met Cade and he introduced me to Morgan and J.T. We hit it off and formed Stampede. I didn’t have time to do both music and rodeo.”

  “So now you sing about rodeos instead.”

  Adam chuckled. “Something like that, although we’re not strictly a country band.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard the official spiel.” Nate leaned back, visibly relaxing, much to Adam’s relief. “A blend of country and rock with a bit of blues tossed in.”

  “He listens.” Adam stood and climbed from the pool. “I’ve had enough. Want to come back to my room for a drink before you hit the sack?” He knew his black boxer-briefs didn’t leave much to the imagination and turned to grab his towel. Wrapping it around his waist, he glanced at Nate and caught him staring. Damn. Adam fought an inner battle, but his cock developed a mind of its own. He grabbed his discarded clothes and held them in front of him to hide his erection.

  “I won’t be good company.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Adam wanted to continue their conversation. It didn’t matter what they talked about. “I’ll leave the door open for you.” He walked away without looking back because he didn’t want to give Nate a chance to wimp out.

  He would not jerk off. Nate glared at Adam’s departing back, wanting to call out and say he intended to go to bed. Alone.

  Beneath the churning water, his cock rose, once again exerting a say on his actions. Guilt sliced his gut. This weird thing with Adam was killing him. He’d loved Rosa, he really had. But at the end she’d told him not to turn his back on a new love, that he had his whole future in front of him. Well, Nate didn’t think she’d had a raging affair with another man in mind. She’d wanted him to find a good woman. Have children. Raise the family they’d always talked about. It wouldn’t have occurred to her he might love a man, because they’d never discussed past lovers. It hadn’t been an issue. He’d loved her, had never strayed or thought of another—male or female—while they were together.

  Nate swore and surged from the water. For decency’s sake, he wrapped a towel around his waist and tried not to think about Adam’s fit, smooth body dripping wet from the tub. He tried not to think about the impressive male bulge, the tight ass and the tattoo that covered one shoulder. Nate dreamed about smoothing his tongue over the fancy whorls of that tattoo. Dreamed about it often.

  He stomped back to his room, fumbling for the key. The door opened before he could fit the key to the lock.

  “I’m heading to town. You want to come?” Keith, the other roadie, was a great guy. They worked well together.

  “Nah, not tonight.” Nate was grateful for the concealment of the clothes he carried. “I’m gonna crash. Have a couple of drinks for me.”

  He shut the door after Keith, glad to have the room to himself. That was one of the problems with being on the road all the time. The lack of privacy. It hadn’t worried him at first. He’d needed the company after Rosa’s death, but now, since the weird attraction to Adam, he craved solitude.

  Nate padded to the bathroom and flipped on the shower. A hint of citrus aftershave and the lingering scent of soap filled the bathroom, telling him Keith had cleaned up before he left to go out on the town. Nate dropped his clothes and the towel on the tile floor before peeling off his navy blue swim trunks. His breath eased out with pure relief when his cock bobbed free.

  When he stepped into the shower cubicle, the water sluiced over his tense shoulders and ran down his body. Nate sighed and picked up the soap. He dragged it over his chest and lower, scrubbing it over his groin. A slice of pleasure cut through him and, with a curse, Nate set the soap aside. Although he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do this, he was in no condition to leave the room. He shouldn’t stop by Adam’s room, either. Knew it and intended to go anyway.

  He fisted his cock, stroked, planting his feet firmly, and gave himself over to the pleasure. An intense burst of heat traveled the length of his body when he rubbed the bulbous head, palmed the sensitive underside. A couple more firm strokes, and he threw back his head, a moan of pleasure and Adam’s name squeezing past his lips when orgasm took him. He continued stroking, milking himself until he had nothing left.

  Heart pounding, he leaned weakly against the wall of the shower, the warm water still pouring over his body. Although he tried not to think about Adam, his mind went back to their conversation in the hot tub. Why had Adam confessed he was gay? And why hadn’t Nate known?

  Their manager probably had something to do with that. An older woman with a lot of business savvy, she’d crafted the band into a business package. The sexy image helped sell their music and pulled in the crowds at the intimate concerts they tended to play. Nate sensed the small gigs would become a thing of the past very soon because of the contract Stampede had signed two weeks ago. Susan wouldn’t want anything to screw with that.

  If it got out Adam was gay…

  Nate stepped out of the shower to grab a towel and cussed. He was doing that a lot and knew Rosa wouldn’t approve. Damn, he missed that woman, which made him an even bigger fool for thinking about Adam.

  He pulled clean underwear, faded black jeans and a T-shirt out of his suitcase and dressed rapidly. This was a mistake. He knew it, but he still thrust his feet into a pair of Tevas, grabbed a bottle of whiskey from near his bed, and the key. Adam was right about one thing, and that was the only reason he was going for a drink. They were friends, and that’s all they ever could be. Friends.

  Somewhere in New Mexico

  The man played the flute, the lilting notes hanging on the air before drifting away to be replaced by the next. A crowd gathered outside the open window of the faded motel, listening to the music with grim expressions. One woman cried, tears streaming down her face. Another, heavily pregnant, held her belly in a protective manner.

  The music ended abruptly, and the crowd dispersed with low murmurs. Several entered the rundown pub, the P of the illuminated sign no longer working. Others returned to their homes, seeking what pleasure they could in the comfort of familiar surroundings.

  Three men remained, silently staring at the open window. Their well-patched clothes told of stretched budgets and unemployment. Their lined faces told of pain.

  “Justin has lost his magic,” one said, his gray hair pulled back in a long braid. “Kokopelli no longer favors him.”

  “The crops have failed for three years running. Hardly any of the women bloom and grow round with child,” the youngest of the three said.

  “I think we made a mistake,” the third said. Lines underscored his eyes and bracketed his mouth. “We shouldn’t have pushed Adam away, forced him to make a choice. We shouldn’t have gone through with the ceremony and transferred the power of Kokopelli. We are being punished for our arrogance.”

  “We did what we thought was best,” Gray Hair said. “We had no way of knowing the cost.”

  The youngest sighed. “Consequences. There is always a price. We should have ignored our gut reactions, taken longer to consider before we stole Adam’s powers and sent him away.”

  The third wrinkled his forehead, his shaggy brows meeting in a slashing line above his eyes. “What are we going to do to put things right? That is the question.”

  “I think we should find Adam and ask him to reconsider. Beg if we need to. The people need him, his magic,” one said. “There must be some way to correct the mistake, some ceremony we can carry out to make things right.”

  The youngest nodded. “Yes. Yes. We must beg Adam’s forgiveness and tell him we were too hasty. I will research for a way to make this happen.”

  Gray Hair sighed, a deep, tired sound. “And what if we can’t change things? A second ceremony has never worked before. Maybe we should give Justin another chance?”

  “We will find a way,” the young one stated with a trace of defiance.

  In the mo
tel room, the flutist gritted his teeth on hearing their murmured words, his hands clutching his instrument in a white-knuckle grip. He would go home and refuse to tour again. Let the people come to him if they wanted Kokopelli’s help. That would work better, be more efficient, more enjoyable than putting up with seedy motels in one-horse villages. Decision made, Justin smiled. Then he noticed the ink stain on his hand and swore. Setting the flute aside, he rubbed the tattoo on his left pectoral muscle. His fingers came away covered with ink, and his heart pumped hard when he saw none of the original tattoo remained. It had vanished.

  Chapter Two

  Nate hesitated outside Adam’s room. His hand shook when he reached to push the door open. He closed his eyes for an instant; his breath eased out. Part of him knew crossing the threshold was a mistake. But he couldn’t turn back, either, and have Adam draw incorrect conclusions. With a frustrated sigh, he cautiously stepped inside the room.

  “I thought you’d decided not to have a drink with me. Grab a seat.” Adam waved at one of the two queen-size beds. Black hair, damp at the ends from the spa pool, curled in disarray. His open shirt revealed a golden, muscular chest. “Do you want a beer or something stronger?”

  “Stronger.” Adam looked casual and too attractive for Nate’s peace of mind. Nate cursed under his breath, instant arousal jolting his dick to life again as he handed over his bottle of whiskey. He took a seat on the bed farthest away from Adam. Maybe the distance would help.

  Adam cocked his head, staring at him before frowning. “You okay?”

  “Ah…yeah.” Nate had to clear his throat to force out the words. He was a fool for putting himself in this position. “Have you ever met anyone you wanted to have a long term relationship with?” And talking about it wasn’t helping, blast it. He shifted uneasily on the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot.

  “Yes.” Adam handed him a glass holding a generous shot of whiskey before returning to get his drink.

  Something about the other man’s tone told Nate more than he wanted to know. “Me? Jesus, Adam. I’m a married man. Was a married man,” he amended bleakly. “I like women.”

  “Don’t get me wrong.” Adam shrugged. “I like women, but men do it for me sexually.”

  “Not me.” Nate’s voice held a trace of defiance. He took a slug of whiskey, wincing at the burn across his tongue before he swallowed.

  “Damn it, Nate. Stop behaving like I’m gonna jump you. I’ve never done anything out of line where you’re concerned. I’m not about to start now.”

  “Good.” Some of the tension residing in Nate’s gut relaxed. “That’s good.”

  Adam offered him a slow grin. “Unless you ask me to,” he added.

  Mid-swallow, Nate spluttered. Adam sauntered across the distance separating them and clapped him on the back. Not an improvement. The heat from his hand shot straight to Nate’s groin. A groan escaped and he couldn’t meet Adam’s gaze.

  “Damn, you’re easy.” Adam chuckled and stepped away to grab his guitar. “What do you think of this? It’s a new song I’m working on.”

  Nate wanted to leave, except he knew that would be like sticking his head in the sand. Adam would know he was hiding and why. He’d have to tough it out for at least an hour, because the last thing he wanted was for Adam to realize how the smartass remarks unsettled him. Realizing his glass was empty, he stood and topped it up. He also poured more whiskey into Adam’s glass before returning to sit on the bed.

  For a while, he watched Adam, the way the man strummed his fingers across the guitar strings and the quiet joy on Adam’s face as he played his instrument. When that became too much, Nate lay back and closed his eyes, listening to the music. There was no doubt Adam was a talented musician. The complete package. Fame had already come knocking at his door, and it wouldn’t take long for him to become a household name.

  Tired from several sleepless nights, Nate drifted off to sleep.

  Adam drew the song to a close, smiling at his sleeping friend. He hadn’t intended to lay out things quite as bluntly as he had, but Nate was still here. That had to be a good sign. For a few seconds, he thought about waking Nate, but decided to leave him. Adam set his guitar aside and flipped off the light, plunging the room into darkness. He stripped down to his boxer-briefs and crawled onto the bed. Even if Cade did return tonight, he wouldn’t think anything of seeing them sharing a bed. They’d shared one room in some real dives during their time together, but if Cade caught them under intimate circumstances, then all bets were off.

  Adam grinned. He didn’t see that happening. He closed his eyes, realizing he was tired. The sound of Nate’s breathing lulled him, and the last thing he remembered was smiling about the cuteness factor of Nate’s snuffling.

  Nate woke slowly, his erection cuddled up to a warm ass. Remaining still, he breathed deep, drawing the familiar scent into his lungs. It was the best way to wake in the morning. With a contented sigh, he pressed closer.

  “I never pegged you as a cuddler,” Adam drawled.

  Fully awake now, Nate jerked away with a heartfelt curse.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell anyone. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  “Fuck, do you ever shut up?” Nate rolled off the bed and jumped to his feet, his heart pounding as if he’d run a hundred-meter sprint. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “You were tired. I didn’t see the point of waking you. You want to go for a run?”

  Nate scowled, his eyes narrowing while confusion pummeled him. “What are you trying to do to me?”

  “Don’t make too much of this,” Adam said. “A run. That’s all. We’ve run together before.”

  “I…yeah. Okay.” Nate dragged a hand through his hair and turned toward the door, the desire to touch Adam throbbing through him like an aching tooth. “I’ll grab my gear.” He would not touch. He would not.

  “Five minutes?”

  “Yeah.” Nate paused and strode back to Adam, his feet taking him even though his mind warned him of the big mistake he was about to make. He dragged Adam into his arms and kissed him. Hard. Their noses mashed together. Teeth clacked before they managed a fit for their lips. The kiss was rough. Fierce and unrestrained. Nate catalogued the differences with part of his mind while he sank into the intimacy of being so close to another person again. Adam’s lips were soft, but the contrasting rasp of stubble made the kiss different. The hard body rubbing against his own was different as well, with none of the cushioning curves he’d enjoyed with Rosa.

  Rosa.

  He wrenched from Adam’s arms and hurried to the door, yanking it open. His breath came in loud gasps, almost panicked. “There. No big deal. It’s over and now we both know.”

  “Know what?” Adam padded up behind him and pushed his hand against the door. It shut with a sharp click. “What do we know?”

  “That we don’t work together. We’re plain wrong.” Nate stared at the paintwork of the door, tried to ignore the note of panic in his voice, but he knew it was there. So did Adam. And the blood crowding his cock didn’t lie, either. He wanted more.

  “Practice makes perfect,” Adam whispered close to his ear, placing one hand on either side of his body and effectively caging him against the door. “Turn around.”

  Nate swallowed. He could feel Adam’s body along his back, the heat of him. Smell him—clean, musky male. Damn, he couldn’t show fear. He had to bluff his way out of this, pretend the kiss hadn’t made him crazy and backfired on him. Instead of disgust, he wanted to explore Adam’s body. Worse, he wanted to kiss and touch every inch.

  Shit! Who’d have thought a single kiss would cause so much trouble. He should have walked away instead of following his stupid impulse to try to prove to Adam he was wrong about an attraction between them.

  “I wouldn’t have taken you for a coward.”

  Indignant, Nate turned to glare at Adam. “I’m not a cow—”

  Adam stopped his heated words with a kiss. This one, it was nothing like
the first. It started slow, a mere brushing of lips, the gentleness of it sending signal fires darting through Nate’s body. He gasped, and Adam took advantage, stroking his tongue over Nate’s, deepening the contact. Adam didn’t move, didn’t do anything except kiss him.

  Somewhere along the line, Nate forgot he was kissing a man and went with the soar of sensations racing through him, the pleasure. The yearning.

  Slowly, Adam pulled away, and Nate realized he gripped the other man’s shoulders. He snatched his hands away, a tide of embarrassment spreading across his cheeks. That couldn’t happen again, which was a shame because he’d enjoyed the kiss. Innate honesty made him admit it to himself, and the fact that he wanted more. And worst of all, he’d never thought of Rosa the entire time.

  “We’ll get even better with time,” Adam whispered.

  “There won’t be another time.” Maybe if he said it enough, he’d come to believe it.

  “No? I didn’t take you for a liar, either.”

  “Fuck, will you stop touching me?” Fury sped through Nate, and he shoved Adam, his hands curling to fists at his sides. “I thought you wanted to run.”

  “Whatever.” Frustration shaded Adam’s voice this time. He stepped away to sit on the corner of the bed. “But remember this. No matter how hard and fast you run, you can’t outrun the truth.”

  Nate opened his mouth, about to tell Adam where to shove his truth. Something made him bite back the words, and he jerked the door open, then stomped outside.