by Lane Hayes
Justin scooted closer and lay beside me. He set his left hand over mine and stroked himself with his right. I slipped my leg between his and covered his mouth, kissing him in time to the rhythm he set. The slight tug and twist in his technique sent tingles along my spine.
“You like that?”
“It’s okay,” I said, gritting my teeth.
He barked a quick laugh and continued the sweet torture while he sucked on my tongue. I rested my hand on his hip, then slowly lowered it to squeeze his ass. I traced his crack as I nibbled his jaw. Justin groaned and climbed over me, covering me like a blanket. He held onto the headboard with one hand and rocked his hips so that my dick slipped between his cheeks. When the tip nudged his hole, Justin backed off and reached between our sweat-slicked skin to jack us together.
“Do you like this better?” Justin asked mischievously.
“Fuck, yes. I—”
He drove his tongue between my lips before I could finish. Not that I had much to say. This was perfect. He was perfect. His weight, his intensity, and the friction of that primal slide of our thick shafts. I felt like a starving man being fed for the first time in years. I wanted everything at once. I could tell Justin felt the same. He writhed over me, wantonly sucking my tongue and licking my lips as he moved, twisting his wrist and stroking. Up and down. Over and over.
When I grabbed his ass and planted my feet flat on the mattress, he bit my bottom lip and straightened slightly. I glanced down at his smooth inked skin against my hairy, more muscular chest. Damn, we looked good together. Our rigid cocks glistening with precum were a thing of beauty, and I had to have a taste. I swiped my thumb over our slits, then sucked it clean.
“Oh my God,” he moaned.
I did it again, staring into his eyes as I set my thumb on his lower lip. He rested the tip of his tongue on the digit before sucking it ravenously. That was it. I pushed at his chest and rolled on top of him, rutting like a madman before sitting back between his knees and stroking my cock furiously.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
And I did. Ropes of jizz spurted across Justin’s hand. He didn’t hesitate to use it as lube. Two pumps of his fist and he was gone. He roared as his release hit him a moment later.
I held on to the top rung of the headboard and surveyed the mess we’d made as I fought to catch my breath. I met Justin’s gaze and gave him a lopsided smile.
Now came the awkward part.
The last time we’d done this, we agreed it was a one-time thing. Everything was different tonight. Straddling an invisible line between nonchalance and gratitude felt like a big task.
I glanced out the window at the moonlight reflected on the pool before gazing down at my lover. “Justin, I—”
“Mmm. Lie down,” he commanded, closing his eyes.
I swallowed hard and licked my lips. “Stay here. I’m gonna clean up.”
I hiked my leg over him and then hurried to the bathroom to grab a towel. I wiped the sweat and cum off my chest and hands quickly, making sure to avoid the mirror as I headed back to the bedroom. I set the towel on Justin’s stomach and studied him. He lay with one arm over his heart and the other over his head. His eyes were shut, but his mouth was open and though he wasn’t snoring, he was making a funny noise as he exhaled. He looked peaceful and serene. Neither were adjectives I’d use to describe him. Justin was a manic fireball. All energy and momentum, with no clear direction. He barreled forward, crashing and burning yet somehow emerging in one piece. With a modicum of direction and discipline, he could be dangerous. I watched him for a moment before gently cleaning the mess on his stomach.
When he opened his eyes and smiled, I knew I was fucked. Whatever happened here wasn’t ending anytime soon. We’d only just begun.
Justin
“MMM. THANKS.”
“You’re welcome.” Gray smiled and tossed the cummy towel onto the floor before reaching for his jeans.
“Don’t go.”
He dropped his jeans, then pulled the duvet back, motioning for me to lift my ass and get under the covers. Then he lay down and rolled to face me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good. It’s gonna be weird between us if you go.”
“How would it be weird?”
I propped myself on my elbow and laid my hand on his chest. “Taking our clothes off, rubbing against each other, and running away is a bad habit to get into. I’m all for the first two, but we can’t work together if we can’t talk freely about…” I twirled my finger between our naked bodies. “This.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Nothing. I just want to look at you.” I peeked under the duvet and whistled. “Damn. I can’t believe that was in my ass. You’re big.”
“All right. Now you’re just being crude,” he huffed primly.
I snickered. “It’s a compliment. But you should know I was sore for twenty-four hours after. Totally your fault.”
“You want me to apologize?” he asked, reaching over to massage my left ass cheek.
“No. I want to do it again. Tonight.”
“We will. Though I don’t know about tonight,” he said with a laugh.
“Why not do it all night? That’s romantic, isn’t it?” I joked. “We can probably get some great material just lying here in bed. This isn’t even your bed, is it? We can pretend it’s a hotel room and that we met at a bar and—oh wait, we did that.”
“You’re hysterical.” He smacked my ass, then pushed his leg between mine. “I think we agreed to do research at a mall next.”
“Ugh.”
Gray smirked. “Hey, at least I’m coming up with ideas. You haven’t told me anything you like…only what you don’t. C’mon, work with me.”
“I don’t know. I guess I’d go to a park or something.”
“Where’d you go with your girlfriend?” he prodded.
I frowned. “Nowhere, really. We hung out. We didn’t have money, and we both worked a lot. She’d come by my bar after her shift at the restaurant, and then we’d walk back to my place or hers and just…talk. I liked that fifteen-minute walk in the dark more than a lot of the things we did. Even though we weren’t looking at each other, we listened. We shared stupid stories about our day and talked about new bands and songs we liked. Sometimes we held hands, sometimes we didn’t, but we connected, you know? I miss that. I miss being connected.”
I cringed at the note of melancholy in my voice. Ripping my guts open and spilling weird, vulnerable stuff most people didn’t share with strangers wasn’t smart. It made me want to belch or say something obnoxious to push him away and dim that glimmer of understanding in his eyes that wordlessly told me he’d been there too.
But just as I was about to open my mouth, he nodded. “Yeah.”
I wasn’t sure I’d heard more pain or loneliness in one word in my entire life. It stopped me in my tracks. I cocked my head and studied him for a long moment like I was seeing him for the first time. Not simply admiring his ruggedly handsome exterior, but really seeing him…and noticing things I hadn’t before. The telltale lines of humor around his eyes were laced with a profound sadness I wanted to examine and run from at the same time. The fact that he hid it so well with that beautiful smile and proud posture hinted at a strength of character I found intriguing.
The problem with being a writer was that I saw all that beauty and was rendered speechless. I needed to write what I saw. I couldn’t speak it. I couldn’t tell him he reminded me of a Hank Williams song or better yet…a work of art. The lonely kind that draws you in with colors and keeps you standing there for hours, memorizing the cracks in the paint and the fuzzy lines next to the razor-sharp ones. He’d think I was crazy, or he’d wonder what someone like me knew about old country songs or modern art. He’d think I was pretentious or—
“You look like an Edward Hopper painting,” I blurted in a small voice.
Gray widened his eyes and opened his mouth in surprise. “Which one?”
<
br /> “The one with the guy looking out a window or into a window. Doesn’t matter.” I waved dismissively. “That was weird. Hey, I—”
“No, it wasn’t,” he said with a smile. “You just made me want to look up Edward Hopper or visit a museum. Not weird at all. More like thoughtful…and interesting. You don’t give a lot away, do you? But I can tell you’re smart as fuck and very intuitive.”
“Thanks.” I flung my hand over my forehead and yawned. “I should go.”
“No. You should stay. Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Are you going somewhere?”
“No. I’ll stay too. C’mere.” He tugged me against his chest and kissed the top of my head, then pulled the covers around us. “Rest now.”
I burrowed against him, closed my eyes, and fell fast asleep.
OF COURSE, I woke up alone.
I didn’t overthink it. My bladder wouldn’t let me. I used the adjoining bathroom, pulled on my jeans, and padded down the hallway through a maze of sunlit rooms toward the main entry. I paused to listen for voices or the smell of coffee. The quiet was eerie as hell. It was almost noisier than being freeway-close, I mused before moving into the great room.
“Good morning, Justin. You’re looking very well…rested. Coffee?”
Charlie set his enormous rainbow unicorn mug on the kitchen island and flashed a bright smile. His blond curly hair framed his face sweetly, but the spark in his eye was full of mischief. He wore a blue checked oxford shirt with a pair of fitted yellow chinos and black loafers. And somehow he pulled the peculiar combination off.
“Um…hi. Yes, please.” I pushed my right hand through my hair and rubbed the back of my neck. Okay, this was embarrassing.
He chuckled at my awkward greeting, then motioned for me to take a seat at one of the black leather barstools. I obeyed, thanking him when he set a plain white mug in front of me. “Cream or sugar?”
“No, thanks. This is good. Where’s Gray?”
“He had a meeting. I’m here to work in the library for an hour before I head to campus,” Charlie replied as he rounded the island and perched on the barstool next to me. He caught my dubious look and chuckled. “Okay, the alternate truth is, I dropped off a key and ran into the man of the house making a mediocre pot of coffee. I remade the one you’re drinking.…You’re welcome for that. Anyhoo, he mentioned he had a sleepover party and that his guest wasn’t awake yet. I think he said, ‘Leave him alone, Char,’ but it sounded vaguely like, ‘Grill him, Char,’ so here I am.”
I took a sip and set the mug down slowly before answering. Charlie was a lot before noon. “Right. So are you leaving me alone or grilling me?”
“What do you think?” he snarked, cradling his coffee. “I’m a master griller and you, my friend, are a kabob.”
I chuckled softly. “What do you want to know?”
“Did you ask him to help you?”
“Help me do what?”
“Put your band together, pull you out of the gutter…you know, break the Gypsy Coma curse and move on,” Charlie replied irritably.
“No.”
“Good. That’s my job. It will be anyway. Please just tell me you agreed to write the love song.”
“Not that it’s your business, but…I agreed to try.”
“Try?” He twitched his nose comically and furrowed his brow. “Amateur! You don’t tell a Grammy award winner you’re going to think about working with him, you seize the opportunity!”
“In a normal world, maybe so, but Xena being part of this makes me very leery,” I said, raising my mug in a mock toast.
“Understandable. But as your manager, I think you should do it.”
I barked a quick laugh. “Manager? When did this happen?”
“At our first meeting. Don’t you remember? I want to launch a band. Or help, anyway. I’m more interested in brand management. I’m finishing my master’s degree right now, so I don’t have a ton of time, but there’s no reason we can’t start talking about your social media presence. You need a slow but steady campaign with lots of cross-brand advertisement.”
“What does that even mean?” I asked, frowning so hard my head hurt.
“It means we spark interest and get the ball rolling. I’m a genius at this stuff, if I do say so myself. I’ve been building my own brand for a couple of years. Check out my Instagram page. I have over a million followers, a number of sponsorships, and I don’t really do anything. I just go places and take photos. I want to do something important. And when my dad asked me to run interference with you and Gray, it came to me. You’re it. Your band…what’s it called?”
“Zero.”
“Oh.” Charlie set his hands on his hips and cocked his head. “Really? Don’t you want something catchier? Spider Invasion or Arachnoid Alien Zombies or—”
“Did you have a dream about spiders last night?” I deadpanned.
“How did you know?”
“I think I’m beginning to understand you. And that’s scary as fuck,” I grumbled, taking another sip of coffee.
“It’s fate! I’ll need to meet with all of you to do a photo shoot. Do you have a sample recording we can use for your blog?”
“Uh. I can get you one.”
“Good. If not, you can always record something here. I’m sure Gray won’t mind. I bet he’d let you practice here too. At least occasionally. That would make my job easier while I’m finishing my classes. Now do you see why you should immediately say yes to the songwriting credit for the movie?” Charlie asked, sounding like a schoolteacher.
“Not really,” I admitted. “But I’m still waking up, and I’m stuck on your spider dream.”
“God, it was awful. Remind me to tell you about it another time.” He stood abruptly and spun on his heels.
“Okay, so why am I supposed to say yes to the song?”
“Exposure. Gray can help you craft a beautiful song. He’s a master. I can help you create your brand and then share your brand with the world.”
“Why me? Why not Xena? She’s flashier and prettier than me by a long shot,” I huffed.
“She’s a solo artist. I think she broke ties with Declan, who I understand is a very talented musician. He plays multiple instruments, including bass.”
I shook my head. “Hard pass. Ky joined us anyway. We’re set.”
“Hmm. As I was saying, I want to work with a band. I want to create a family. And since I’m not likely to have children for another decade or so, I’ll start with you. I think you’re a good bet.”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to the guys about—”
“Excellent! We’ll meet here after one of your practices. I’ll talk to Gray about getting you time in the studio. You know, this would have been a lot easier if you had just agreed to take the job filing those albums. You would have had a built-in reason to be here a week ago. Time is ticking! Xena has already signed her contract. You need to secure a commission for yourself and then your band.”
“I haven’t told the guys about it yet. If it was for Zero, they’d be a lot more interested,” I commented wryly. “This sounds like a solo gig. Like I’m defecting before we get started.”
Charlie moved in front of me and nudged my arm excitedly. “Why not counter with a suggestion for Zero to perform a song for the soundtrack too?”
“Really?”
“Why not? The worst anyone can say is no.”
“Huh. Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I am. Use their interest in your favor. For Zero.”
“Should I send an email or—”
“No. You shouldn’t represent yourself. That’s not how it’s done in entertainment circles. You need someone to handle the business end while you handle the music. You need me,” he said firmly.
“Hmm. Maybe.” I nodded slowly. “I still have to talk to the guys, but this could be a good idea.”
Charlie offered me his hand with a wide, radiant grin. “I look forward to working with you. Shall we co
mmemorate this event with a selfie?”
“Fuck no,” I huffed.
Charlie wrangled his arm around my neck and shot a series of photos. No doubt I had my mouth open in all of them. Then we shook hands like two seasoned businessmen. I wasn’t exactly sure what I’d agreed to. The one thing Charlie and Zero had in common was that neither of us was a sure thing.
6
GRAY
People were everywhere. I didn’t get it. An outdoor mall was the last place I’d think anyone would want to hang out on a Friday night in February. Sure, the weather was mild, but there had to be better things to do on a weekend. I’d been half joking when I suggested the mall, but Justin’s reaction was so priceless, I had to follow through. Once the plan was made, I figured it would be a mini adventure and chances were high we’d have the place mostly to ourselves anyway. I was wrong. If we’d driven together, I would have moved on to plan B when I spotted the line of cars waiting to park in the multi-storied garage.
I left my Porsche with an attendant and typed a quick text to Justin on my way up the escalator to the main floor of the shopping center to let him know I’d arrived. I pushed Send before reading through our earlier correspondence.
Are we really doing the mall thing? he asked.
Yep! What time should I pick you up?
I’ll meet you there.
You’re not going to show, are you?
Oh ye of little faith. I’ll be there at six. Meet me at the fountain.
Which one?
I have no idea. I’ve never been before. But every mall in the world has a fountain.
I grinned at the gif of Niagara Falls he’d posted, then started when my cell rang. I stepped off the escalator before answering.
“Hello?”
“Hey, I’m outside the pretzel shop on the first floor,” Justin said.
“By the fountain?”
“Fuck, no. It’s kid central over there. I love kids, but I can’t hear myself think.”
I smiled at his faux put-upon tone. “Got it. I’ll find you.”
Ten minutes later, I spotted Justin spread across a bench with his arm resting on the back and his knee bent on the seat in a pose that clearly said, “I’m not sharing.” I nudged his foot and sat down before he recognized me. His annoyed scowl morphed into a sweet smile followed by an appreciative once-over.
