Syncopation

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Syncopation Page 4

by Jodi Payne


  Kyle snorted. “Do you like playing guitar?”

  “Not a bit. Dread it.” He grinned over, waggling his eyebrows.

  “Yeah. I should have been a financial planner like my dad wanted me to be.” Kyle laughed. “It’s not about like, right? It’s… in here.” Kyle reached for him, as if trying to claw something out of his chest. “I’m not me without it.”

  “True. I ain’t nothing but a vessel, and thank God for it.” He knew that like he knew his own name. Without music, he wouldn’t be worth a plug nickel.

  “Listen to you.” Kyle brought him a mug of coffee and cupped his jaw in one hand, hazel eyes shifting between brown and green in the light. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

  “It’s the truth, cher. It ain’t no thing.” Lord, look at those pretty eyes. A mind could write a thousand songs about them.

  Kyle’s look was hard to read, but the kiss that followed was easy enough to understand. “Is your coffee okay?”

  “Uh-huh.” He was sure it was fine. It wouldn’t be like home, but it would be better than Folgers. Kyle didn’t seem like the Folgers’ type.

  “You have your phone on you?” Kyle reached for the counter and pulled his off a charger.

  “I do. Thanks.” He handed his phone over, then drank deep from his coffee. Oh. Oh, fuck. That was nice. He took another drink and moaned. “That’s fine.”

  Kyle smiled and plugged in his phone. “Coffee needs to be good. What’s your number?”

  He typed it into Kyle’s phone, and Kyle called him. “There. Now you have mine.”

  “Excellent. I’ll use it. I would see you again.”

  “I would like to see you again too. Do use it. There must be something we didn’t try last night.” Kyle’s tongue ran across a flirty bottom lip.

  “I bet there is.” He stroked one hand down Kyle’s belly. “I bet there’s lots.”

  “Mm.” Tight abs grew even tighter under his hand, and Kyle reached out to draw circles on his chest with a long finger. “Well, you think on it. And let me know what you come up with.”

  “I can do that.” His nipples drew up, hard as a rock, the touch making him dizzy.

  Kyle leaned in, nuzzled his jaw. “You want an Uber? Or are you going to brave the subway?”

  “I’ll manage. I don’t mind. I’m brave.” He liked exploring all these new places. Hell, where he grew up, you couldn’t even plant dead bones in the ground before the water pushed them up, much less run a train down there.

  “When in New York, right? Good for you. You better get moving, then. Closest station is at Seventh; that’s about a ten-minute walk.”

  “Good deal. Call, eh? I’m playing until six, for sure. Maybe later. I never know.” Playing was what he did.

  Kyle took his coffee cup, trading it for his phone, and saw him out. “I’ll call. How long are you in town?”

  “So long as someone wants me here, I’ll be here.” Or until someone else wanted to pay him more to go somewhere else.

  “Works for me.” Kyle leaned in the doorway. “Play hard, music man.”

  “Always.” He took another kiss, letting this one mean something. “Bon temps, cher. Roule on.”

  Kyle smiled at him and gave his hand a squeeze. “Subway’s that direction. See you soon.” The tall ornate door closed, Kyle disappearing back inside.

  Time to get to work.

  Lord have mercy, it was gonna be a grand day.

  Chapter Four

  AFTER THE day he’d had, Kyle had needed a shower almost as much as the coffee he was drinking. He sat on his couch and smiled at Colt’s number on his phone, wondering if it was easier to play music all day on a couple of hours of sleep than it had been to choreograph. Thirty was staring at him and laughing its ass off.

  How totally fucking worth it, though. His bed had been a playground all damn night. Everything about Colt was fun and sexy, right down to “cher.” He liked feeling appreciated. If the man was ready for round two, he was game. Honestly, the worst part of his whole day had been waiting for after six to call.

  “Let’s see if I’m still on your mind, hot stuff.” Bouncing a little in his seat, he hit Call.

  It took three rings for Colt to pick up, husky laughter sounding before the “Mmm, cher. How you be?”

  Seriously? Chills. “Fabulous. How was your session? Or are you still playing? You want to call me back?”

  “Everybody just left. I laid down the work today. All the folks here got gigs to run to tonight, but I was looking to hear from you.”

  “Yeah? You just made my day.” He hopped up off the couch, grinning, and headed for his room to get dressed.

  “Good deal. Where you want me to meet you?”

  “Um.” Dinner. And something fun. “You’re Midtown, so I’ll come up to you. In Duffy Square on the red stairs in about a half an hour. Sound good?”

  “Surely do. I’m all yours, cher.”

  “You’re so sweet, Colt.” Genuine. It just kept him grinning. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll be there.” There was a musical whistle and then a click.

  “Fantastic.” He danced around his room, dressing quickly in jeans, a tank, and one of his funky dancer T-shirts with the wide neckline. A little off the shoulder was fun, right?

  The subway to Times Square took him no time at all, and the next thing he knew he was headed for the big red stairs. They were a landmark for tourists, but he always thought they were oddly romantic at night when all the lights came on.

  Colt was there in his white T-shirt and jeans, dark eyes drinking in everything. He looked so good.

  “Colt!” he shouted and waved. He picked up the pace, an extra spring in his already happy feet, and climbed the wide steps. “Hi.” He sat down next to Colt, close enough to get an arm around his waist.

  “Mmm. Cher.” God, that smile lit up the world. “How’s you?”

  “I’m a little tired. Someone kept me up all night, and I worked hard today.” Okay, he’d waited at least thirty seconds. That was plenty. He leaned in and took a quick kiss.

  Colt’s hand burned where it touched his thigh, all the way through his jeans. “Bad someone. You want I should beat him?”

  “Nope.” Damn. He covered Colt’s hand with his. “I was actually thinking about asking him to do it again.” They could skip dinner. Or have dinner and skip drinks after. Or have drinks at his place after.

  Or he could just jump Colt right here on the steps in the middle of Times Square.

  Jesus. Last night he was hoping for some fun, and it ended up hot. Tonight he was starting hot, and who knew where it was going. What a fucking score this guy was.

  “I like that. You. Me. An encore.”

  “Looking forward to it.” You are not seventeen anymore. He was perfectly capable of making himself wait at least until after they’d gotten something to eat. Doing the adult thing. Getting to know this lovely, lovely man sitting next to him even if Colt was making his brain short out just by being so close.

  “Uh-huh. Does now work for you?” Colt leaned in close, lips near his ear. “I been sitting on that stool picking all day, feeling the ache of your cock inside me.”

  “Oh fuck, Colt.” The air in the city was pretty polluted, but usually there was plenty of it. At the moment, though, none of it was finding its way into his lungs, and his cock pressed right up against his fly. “Yeah. Yeah, now’s…. Jesus.”

  “Mmm. You smell like heaven. I could eat you alive, cher, suck you until you beg for mercy.”

  “Baby, I could throw you down right here. How close is your hotel, again?” Because he wasn’t going to make it all the way to Christopher Street.

  “Come on.” Colt stood and took his hand, hauling him up. He loved how Colt’s fingers burned, how he could feel each individual fingertip.

  “That’s the plan.” He took a deep breath and told his boner to cool it, but it didn’t really pay attention, and the walk across the street was pretty awkwar
d. He had the picture in his head now, Colt’s tight curls down between his thighs, and it wasn’t letting him go.

  “Uh-huh.” Colt dragged him into a lobby and to an elevator, pushing him right in. “’M on six.”

  “Six.” He focused enough to push what he thought was the right button and then leaned back against the doors as they closed, pulling Colt into him. He was already breathless, puffing out air before taking another kiss. Colt tasted like peppermint and coffee and pure unadulterated need.

  He pressed his palm into Colt’s groin, pulling it away as the doors opened again. “I’ve got something for you.”

  “Mmm. I been hungering for you all day.” Colt wiggled, little ass rocking back and forth like a metronome, tempting him.

  “I hear that.” He gripped Colt’s hand tighter. “Room. Go.”

  Colt managed to get the card to work, after three tries or so, the light finally going green so the door opened. And it was still closing as Kyle tore open his belt and lowered his fly.

  “I liked the sound of that whole begging for mercy thing.” Fuck, his throat was so dry, he could barely get the words out.

  “I got this.” Colt hit his knees, fishing Kyle’s cock out and sucking it down in a single, breath-taking, soul-stealing move.

  “Fuck!” he shouted. Or he thought he did. The sudden shock of Colt’s mouth on him made him dizzy, and he reached out to brace a hand on the wall over Colt’s head. He groaned, that he was sure of, because he felt it vibrate in him all the way to his toes. “You’ve so got this. Fuck.”

  Colt hummed, the sound deep and low, making everything draw up in his balls, his thighs. Then the suction started, steady and fierce and sure.

  He wrapped a hand behind Colt’s head, his fingers tangling into the curls. Colt’s mouth was hot, and the pressure was so perfect, he didn’t even bother to hold back or try not to lean right into it like a horny teenager. It felt so fucking good. “Yes! Christ, Colt. Just like that.”

  Colt was going to send him over the edge, was taking everything he had to give. He’d already been half-gone in the elevator, and there were no brakes on this train. He thrust once, testing, and gently nudged the back of Colt’s throat, but the second time he disappeared to an impossible depth, making his eyes cross and his hips tremble. “Fuck. Fuck!”

  One more thrust and his climax slammed into him, gripping his spine and driving straight through, everything focused in tight. He bucked and shot, forcing himself to let go of Colt as his knees buckled so he could brace both hands on the wall.

  Colt gentled his suction, cleaning Kyle’s cock so carefully that his eyes crossed again at the sensations.

  “Mmm.” Once he was pretty sure his knees would hold him up, he reached down and stroked his fingers across Colt’s cheek. “You have an amazing mouth, music man.” Colt had to be aching now too, which made all this slow, gentle attention that much sweeter.

  Colt nuzzled into his palm, lips swollen and damp. “You taste good, cher.”

  He hooked a finger under Colt’s chin, lifting it so he could see those deep brown eyes and licked his lips. “Does that lovely, long cock of yours want my mouth, or my ass, baby?” He grinned.

  Colt grunted, his body humping the air hard for a few hard thrusts. “Dieu! Listen to you.”

  “Ha!” He laughed. “That, coming from the man that had me by the balls with just a few whispered words in my ear?” He tugged his jeans high enough that they wouldn’t trip him up and then reached down to help Colt to his feet. He grabbed Colt’s T-shirt and tugged it up and off. Then he stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a couple of condoms and lube and tossed them on the little desk by the door—about as far as they’d made it into Colt’s hotel room. “You want me? You want to fuck me? Whatever you want, baby. Let’s have some fun.”

  Colt grabbed his waistband and hauled him to the bed, then pushed his jeans down past his ass before stripping his shirts off. Those hot fingers dragged down his ribs, and he looked down, staring, expecting to see marks.

  “Hot” was all he managed to say. There was more on his mind, but that was the only coherent bit. He shifted, letting his jeans fall so he could step out of them, and kicked them away.

  Colt’s lips were still a little swollen and beautiful, and he leaned in to taste them as he went after Colt’s belt. Colt pushed into him, bringing them fully together, lean hips pumping against him in short, staccato motions.

  “God, and I was worried I’d come off too eager.” He laughed, playfully fighting Colt a little as he got those well-worn jeans open.

  “I ain’t so big on playing games, just gigs.”

  Okay, then. Just here to fuck. Dinner won’t be necessary. Got it.

  “You won’t get any games from me, baby.” He pushed Colt’s jeans down over delicious hips, and the heavy cock fell right into his fingers. He gave it a couple of long, slow strokes. “Mm. Hello there, fella.”

  “Cher….” Colt arched hard. “Christ, I been thinking on you hard all day. You’re like a good high.”

  “I can live up to that, I think. Choose your poison on the table there.” He’d brought a few choices. He was picky about his protection, and he’d learned he wasn’t alone. A man liked what a man liked.

  Colt grabbed a square, then moved over to pull out a little, well-used tube from the bedside table. He grinned over, smile wide. “Didn’t want to embarrass the cleaning girl with my… bedtime habits, hmm?”

  Damn. He liked the view and watched Colt walk back toward him with real interest. “I don’t know, what if it had been a cleaning guy? That might have worked out for you.”

  “No, sir. I got a certain person that tore my ass up last night. I’m interested in that.” Colt winked at him. “Be where you are, huh?”

  “Uh-huh. Love the one you’re with.” He was happy to be with Colt as long as the musician was in town, which he knew wouldn’t be long. It never was with Colt’s type. But hot, fun, sweet, and talented? He’d take it. And Colt kissed like there was nothing else that mattered in the whole damn world.

  He hooked his fingers behind Colt’s neck and looked down, watching as Colt stretched and smoothed the condom on over that pretty cock. “Mmm.”

  “You want, cher?” Colt stroked himself, showing off a little.

  “Yeah. I want, Colt.” That wasn’t a lie—his body was warming up and considering a round two. He caught Colt’s eyes and gave him a smoldering look. “I want you.”

  He backed into the bed, turning and giving Colt a good long look at his ass.

  Colt hummed, and then those hands framed his ass, thumbs digging in hard enough to make him shiver.

  Oh, this was definitely not going to disappoint. He bent, bracing his arms on the bed, giving Colt an even better view, and looked over his shoulder, pressing back against Colt’s hip. “Come on, baby. Let’s embarrass the neighbors.”

  “I can do that, me.” Colt muscled up behind him, slick fingers sliding against him, into him. The touch was sure, firm enough that his abs drew up tight. “I reckon I can play you, make you sing real pretty for me.”

  Oh, holy fuck that felt good. He nodded, which was easier than talking at the moment. “Yeah. I… uhn. Seems like you… fuck.” He pressed back into Colt’s hand with a groan. Brain, words, not happening.

  Colt sang as he touched, the sounds random and wanton as he pressed deep, slicking and stretching him. He answered back with long, needful moans until it just wasn’t enough anymore and he couldn’t stop himself thrusting back hard. “Please. Colt.”

  “Fuck, I love to see you move.” Colt didn’t tease, the heavy prick scraping along his ring of muscles, the pressure enough to make him grunt.

  “I love to hear you talk.” It wasn’t just Colt’s sexy accent and the lovely creole lilt in his tone; it was the words Colt used and the way he used them.

  Kyle dropped to his elbows to better the angle and arched back toward Colt, groaning as he started to stretch. The burn was so good.

  Colt’s
hand landed on the small of his back, steadying him as the short, slow strokes became long thrusts. The deliberate movement was maddening in just the right way, making him ache, Colt’s girth impressive. He rolled his hips back gently, meeting each thrust without pushing Colt at all. “Fuck yes.”

  “Mm-hmm. No rushing.”

  No, Colt was playing his body like that guitar, making each long strum vibrate through him, filling him up with each stroke. He relaxed, enjoying the connection. He was aware of his own reawakened erection, but it was only a light distraction at the moment. He was far more interested in Colt’s lovely sounds and the searing hot fingers digging into his hips.

  “Cher.” A line of pure heat slid along his spine as Colt licked him, nice and slow.

  He rounded his back, bending into the sensation, showing off his dancer’s flexibility in the best of ways. “I love how you say that.” And how it felt when Colt said it, meaningful and earnest.

  Colt groaned and arched, the angle of the thrusts changing, shifting to light him up inside. He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut as fireworks went off behind his lids. “Colt!”

  “Mmm. La. There, hmm? Just so.”

  Kyle moaned as Colt repeated the thrust again and again, pounding him mercilessly.

  “Uhn. Fuck.” Breathe, he told himself. Colt was way too coherent, way too in control for him to race off on his own. But his balls ached, and he couldn’t help the grunting. Colt was strong as fuck. He used the only leverage he had and clenched down hard around Colt’s cock.

  “Cher!” Colt rocked forward, slamming into him with a deep cry that sounded like it came from the pit of his stomach.

  He threw his head back and shouted, he and Colt so perfectly in sync, moving together like they’d rehearsed this a million times together, rather than it being something so wonderfully new. “Colt!”

  The tempo sped up, driving them deeper, higher, both of them grunting and crying out as the bedsprings laid out a rhythm.

  He closed his eyes again, stopped thinking and started just feeling, the way he would with a complicated piece of music. He followed Colt’s strong lead with his whole body, and he began to tremble as a luscious heat spiraled in his belly.

 

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