King Brothers - Chapter 22

It seems that Destiny (literally) has brought us to the end of the first season of the King Brothers.

I have thoroughly enjoyed taking you on this journey with these four wonderful men.

But, it’s time to work out where we go next.

This is not the end—but the beginning of the second arc of the boys’ backstory.

Enjoy this week’s chapter and—DON’T FORGET TO VOTE!

Love Toni xx

Chapter 22


There was no-one more relieved than me when I saw Dylan and Marty step out from the back of the stage and begin to walk towards us.

It wasn’t an easy thing to watch.

Dylan’s eyes caught mine across the room, but he couldn’t get to me.

Men and women who’d been here at the show demanded his attention.

He had to stop.

Exchange some kind of pleasantries, have his photograph taken or sign something.

His and Marty’s progress towards me and Ella seemed excruciatingly slow.

This is the reality of loving a rockstar.

He was always going to be the property of his fans.

They’d paid to be here—he needed to give them time.

On a logical level I understood this.

On an emotional level I was beginning to believe that I’d never be able to deal with sharing him.

I understood logical argument.

I’d been accepted for a law and business degree at Auckland University.

My career was going to be about dealing with facts and figures.

The facts, as they presented themselves in front of me at the moment weren’t looking good for any kind of stable emotional relationship for me.

I was looking at locking myself into five years of training in Auckland.

I guess Dylan was looking at a life on the road and touring.

I thought again about the private fear that I’d been carrying on the train on the way down here.



Trying to put a family together in the future. How would that all come together with a man who lived half his life on the road, playing in bars, clubs, or stadiums even?

“Hey, sorry it took me so long to get here,” Dylan slipped his arm around me and all logical thought flew from my mind at the touch of his still warm body.

“Your public adore you,” I replied. The last of my words lost in his mouth as his lips slipped over mine.

He didn’t even attempt to hide his hunger for me.

My traitorous body recognised the call of his and somehow disengaged my brain.

It was all about Dylan.

He was the single reason that I’d come to Wellington.

I no longer needed to share the fear with him that I may have been carrying his baby, but now I feared something altogether larger.

His fans.

How much control would they have in his future life?

How could I compete with the overwhelming love and adoration that they had for him?

Did I want to?

These were questions that I couldn’t answer in any kind of logical way with the hard, length of his body pressed so close to my own.

“Come on,” Dylan said. “Let’s get out of here.”

I looked across at Ella. Marty had his arms around her and it was pretty clear that they were going to pick up right where they left off in Auckland.

“Dylan and me are going back to our room,” I said.

“You not going upstairs?” Marty directed his question at Dylan.

“It appears not,” Dylan replied with a shrug. “Lead on, my lady,” he said to me as he gave me a squeeze.

We only had to stop another four times for his fans before we eventually made it out of the front door of the hotel.

“I haven’t made it to this part of town,” Dylan said as we navigated our way along the picturesque, but wind-swept pedestrian walkways at the edge of Wellington Harbour.

“It’s pretty here,” I replied. It was nice to be alone with Dylan at last. So many people making so many demands on his time. “Despite the howling gale, it kind of reminds me of home, only with a lot of really cool artwork.”

“What did you think of the show?” Dylan asked, a hint of the insecure man that I knew and loved coming to the fore.

“You were amazing,” I replied, “I can’t believe how much you’ve changed in the short amount of time you’ve all been on the road.”

“Calvin’s a hard taskmaster, but he knows what he’s doing. The US agents want to take us on.”

“That’s fantastic,” I said trying to sound like I meant it.

Somewhere in the back of my head I could hear the death knell ringing for the two of us—but I didn’t want to share that with Dylan—not just yet. I wanted us to have a night together in Wellington that we’d never forget.

“Have you seen this?” I said dragging him towards the bronze statue of a naked man leaning into the wind. I’d been fascinated by the way the statue seemed to effortlessly remain on land whilst leaning into the sea.

“Looks like you walking down Courtney Place,” Dylan quipped as he eyed the oversized sculpture.

“Or maybe you when you’re having a bad day on your surf board,” I retorted. I’d miss seeing him this summer. Out on the water, catching the waves. But I couldn’t think about that now, or I’d cry.

Dylan’s hand slipped to the side of my face. His index finger and thumb sliding around my ear. His other hand slipped around the back of my neck. The touch firm and sure—not unlike the Dylan that I’d watched own the stage tonight.

He pulled me to him.

I was powerless.

My lips slipped over his.

I opened my mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss.


It was all about Dylan.

The touch of him.

The taste of him.

The scent of him mixed with the fresh, salt air of the harbour.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice a whisper when we broke the kiss.

Our foreheads still touched, our shared intimacy insulating us from the cool of the late evening breeze.

“You’re too busy to miss me,” I replied.

I didn’t want him missing me.

He had his life on the road. His acknowledgment tonight that a US agency had signed the band meant that the writing was definitely on the wall.

They were headed overseas to be the international sensation that they deserved to be.

And I had my life at home.

Our lives destined not to entwine any longer.

“You’re crying,” Dylan said concern etched into his voice.

“No,” I said wiping away the errant tear. “It’s just this damn wind. Come on,” I shivered, “Let’s get back to the hostel before we freeze to death.”

“You’re just an Auckland wimp,” he teased, “you know that?”

It was true.

I felt at home in Auckland and it was where my future lay.

Dylan’s on the other hand.

His future lay with his fans and the rest of the world.

“This is pretty flash for a backpackers,” Dylan said as he scanned the small, but adequate room that Ella and I had booked for the night.

“We didn’t want to share with anyone else.” As it turned out, it seemed that Ella would likely be staying in Dylan’s room.

“Come here,” Dylan purred as he pulled me down on top of him on the single bed.

I’d already decided on the walk back from the waterfront to the backpackers that resistance, at this point of time was futile. I decided that I’d allow myself the pleasure of one last night with Dylan.

One reckless night.

A night that I could hold in my heart for the rest of my life.

I wasn’t much about reckless—but there was something about Dylan King that I still couldn’t resist.

That I didn’t want to resist.

But there was a problem.

“I’m bleeding,” I said.

Dylan looked at me, lust etched across his beautiful face. He tipped his head to one side as if he were trying to comprehend what I’d just said to him. And then I watched with fascination as he began to understand the words that had just passed from my lips.

The corners of his mouth creased into a mischievous smile. “I don’t mind as long as you don’t mind.”

I thought the idea might repulse him, but his honesty touched me. I couldn’t help but return his smile.

“It’s not too bad, we just need to be careful,” I said as I extracted myself from Dylan’s grip, pulled him up from the bed and set about pulling the coverlet and sheets back.

I grabbed a towel from the back of the door and threw it across the bottom sheet on the bed.

It felt good.

To have this degree of honesty with Dylan—it would make what I had to tell him in the morning so much easier.

But, I didn’t want to think about tomorrow—I wanted to live in today.

I wanted to savour every last moment I had with Dylan King.

“Come here, rockstar,” I said as I pulled him into the middle of the room.

I knew Dylan wanted me, I could see the outline of him in his jeans.

But I wanted to enjoy him tonight.

Slowly strip his clothes.

Touch and savour his body.

Do all the things to him that those women on the front row were screaming about.

I tugged his t-shirt over his head.

Ran my fingers across his broad chest, with its smattering of dark hair.

Dylan didn’t say a word, the intense deep brown of his eyes followed my every move. His hard body tensed and twitched under the touch of my fingers.

I wanted to memorise every inch of him.

I’d watched him grow and mature over so many summers at the beach, but the man who stood before me right this moment—like the rock god on stage tonight—bore little resemblance to the man that I’d grown up with.

Before me stood a powerful man.

A man who knew what he wanted.

A man who had the world at his feet.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered as my hands found their way up through the light beard on his cheeks and into the long, black hair that covered his face as he looked down at me.

My hands found their way down to his belt and began the earnest work of removing his jeans.

“I should be saying that to you,” Dylan moaned as he sucked in a deep breath when my hands touched the sensitive flesh below his waist.

As I dropped his jeans, I dropped to my knees and slipped my mouth around his firm cock.

Dylan’s entire body trembled.

I licked and stroked and enjoyed the sense of power I had over this man.

“Too much,” Dylan croaked, as his hands found their way into my hair.

He pulled me off him and his lips found mine.

“My turn,” he growled as he began to remove layers of my clothes.

They fell away and when we were both naked, we stepped out of the pools of fabric at our feet.

Dylan pulled me to him.

It seemed so right—the intense touch of his naked flesh on my own.

How could I ever contemplate giving him up?


I made love to Destiny.

Despite the joy and the overwhelming sense of pleasure I derived from her touch and her taste and the little sounds she made as I loved her, I still had a pervading sense of sadness that I couldn’t shake—no matter how hard I tried.

Physically spent, both from the show and from the time we’d spent in each other’s arms, I was grateful when Destiny crawled back into the tiny, single bed after cleaning herself up. Now we lay together, for the moment our lust satisfied, her naked body spooned in the curve of my own.

I wanted to lay here forever.

On and off I dozed through the night.

Each time I woke, the reassuring touch of Destiny’s naked body against my own lulled me back to sleep.

The sound of humanity buzzed all around us, making me dip in and out of consciousness.

I’d learned to sleep through all kinds of noise while we’d been on the road, but for some reason I didn’t sleep well this particular night.

It didn’t concern me. We were on the road again tomorrow, I could doze in the van.

In my wakeful moments and in the half-light of the night, I memorised every inch of Destiny’s body.

The curve of her hips.

The length of her back.

The way her nose turned up right at the end.

I wallowed in the warmth of her body and allowed my breathing to fall into the same regular pattern of hers.

Far too soon, the dark of night gave way to the breaking dawn.

Destiny stirred in my arms.

My fingers found their way to her nipple and I ran lazy circles around the hardening nub.

“Mmm…” she moaned as her eyes flickered open. “We’ll be in trouble if you keep doing that,” she said her voice thick with sleep.

“I’m happy to be in trouble with you forever,” I replied as I buried my face in the familiar scent of her soft hair.

Destiny stretched like a lazy cat in the sunshine. She ran her fingers through my hair and looked at me with an intensity that made my stomach ache.

“We need to talk,” she said as she pulled her body away from mine and turned her back on me.

“We can talk later,” I said as I slid my hand down the length of her thigh. “We’re not leaving until ten, we’ve still got a few hours before we hit the road.”

I saw Destiny’s body stiffen.

Then she stepped away from me and began to gather the clothes we left on the floor last night.

I watched her dress in silence.

“What’s going on?” I asked as she dropped my clothes on the end of the bed. But something about the way she held herself, the way she folded her arms across her body, cutting herself off from me told me everything I needed to know.


The moment had come.

It was time for me to send him away.

I didn’t want to cry.

He looked so lost and alone and vulnerable sitting naked in amongst the sheets on the bed.

All I wanted to do was climb back in there with him—but that wouldn’t be good for either of us.

Someone had to make the right decision here and I didn’t think it was going to be Dylan.

“You’ve got an amazing future ahead of you,” I said to him.

“Don’t say it!” The force of his words made me jump.

“Someone has to say it,” I replied, “I’m not going to make you choose between me and the band.”

“Has Calvin been talking to you?”

Now he was angry. The eyes that had burned last night with lust burned with something else.



I couldn’t soften my stance.

“No, Calvin’s not said anything to me. Calvin doesn’t even know me.”

“He behaves like he does,” Dylan muttered.

“You should get dressed and go.” I knew my words sounded harsh. They needed to sound harsh, otherwise he wouldn’t go.

I needed him to go before I lost my nerve.

“You’re throwing me out?”


I turned my back on him. I couldn’t look at him anymore. He needed to get dressed, otherwise I’d throw my clothes off and climb back into bed with him.

I pulled the blind and looked out the window. From the fourth floor where we were, I could see right across the roof tops to the shimmer of the morning sun on the harbour.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” I said as I stared at the light on the water, “but I wanted to be with you one last time.”

Strong arms circled my waist.

I leaned back into the familiar warmth of Dylan’s body.

“This doesn’t have to be the last time,” he said.

“The world’s waiting for you, Dylan and I’m not going to stand in the way of you meeting your destiny.”

“You are my Destiny,” he whispered.

I turned around.

Faced him.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” I pleaded. “I know what this means to you, but I can’t watch you up on that stage, being a rockstar, sharing you with the entire world. It would cripple me and I’m not going to make you choose.” I slipped my lips over his. The kiss, soft and sweet, but somehow sad.

“I love you, Destiny,” he said.

“I know,” I whispered as he leaned his head against mine. “I love you too, that’s why you have to go.”

He touched my forehead with his lips.

“I can’t change your mind?” he asked, his voice breaking.

“No.” I stifled a sob. I wouldn’t cry—not in front of him anyway.

Dylan turned around.

He picked up his jacket off the end of the spare bed and walked out the door and out of my life.

* * *

And therein ends Season 1 of The King Brothers.

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