by Anna Zabo
Before he claimed another kiss, he whispered against Dominic’s neck, “It’ll be my pleasure.”
* * *
Walking hand in hand with Adrian was such a head rush for Dom. He never got to be this way in public, be gay, be with someone. But on the walk to Adrian’s place, he was out and open and so fucking turned on it was actually a wonder he could walk at all.
Adrian seemed to know the effect he was having, given his amused smile and the glint in his eyes. Didn’t help when he yanked on Dom’s hand and pulled him into a searing kiss that shook him to the bones. At this point in his life, Dom had been with countless men, but this guy—this guy turned him inside out like no other. Maybe it was the way he gripped Dom’s hair. Maybe it was the gold in his eyes or just how smart he was, but whatever the cause, Dom couldn’t catch his breath around Adrian.
Even more troubling, he didn’t want to. Being swept away was exhilarating and terrifying. Like a roller coaster where you couldn’t see the hills and valleys or even the end of the line. He moaned into Adrian’s insistent kiss and let himself go. Wherever Adrian led, Dom would follow, at least for tonight.
“You’re such a treat,” Adrian murmured. “How are you here with me?”
That was easy to answer. “I’m here because you commented on my choice of literature.”
Hot, soft fingers over his cheeks. “But you were sitting there all alone. I don’t understand why you were alone. You’re a gem of a man.”
Except Dominic only existed in the cracks and crevices of Domino Grinder’s life, which left no time for long-term lovers. “I’m not that interesting.”
Adrian huffed a breath. “Yes, yes you are.” He nudged him in the shoulder. “A few more blocks, and I’ll show you.”
Dom shivered, even though it was summer and he was wearing a long-sleeve shirt. Yeah, he wanted uncovered and unmasked. So he went and walked and tried not to focus on the tightness of his jeans or the rapid beating of his heart.
They ended their walk in front of a brownstone in the middle of a block. As Adrian had said earlier, not exactly the same neighborhood, but close. Close enough to be local. Close enough that they could become a thing. A serious thing.
The fear caught his throat and scrambled down into his heart. Unmasking himself meant unmasking Domino, which meant Dominic would be the one in the spotlight. The one onstage. And he couldn’t. He just...couldn’t.
Adrian must have noticed something, because he loosened his grip. “You don’t have to come in.” He spoke in such a gentle, reasonable tone. “We can simply say goodnight.”
Dom shook his head. “It’s not you.” Utterly true. Because if Dominic were anyone else, he’d be thrilled—he was thrilled on a deep level. This felt like a beginning of one of those grand adventures. If not love, then at least a romping good time. But he was also the guitar player of Twisted Wishes, and there was no forgetting that. No abandoning it.
A one-night stand was easy. This...wasn’t that. He didn’t want it to be that.
Adrian took his other hand. “Dominic.”
That voice brokered command and made Dom lift his gaze. Stare into those brown eyes.
“Do you want to come in?” Adrian gave his hands a little squeeze.
“Yes.” More than anything in the world.
A nod. “Then what’s stopping you?”
“The fact that I want to come in.”
Adrian’s shoulders dropped, as did his eyes. He rubbed Dom’s fingers with his own, then let go. “Goodnight, Dominic,” he whispered, the hurt too evident in his stance, his words. He turned to climb the stairs to his door.
“Adrian.”
He didn’t turn, but he did stop. Thank god.
“Please don’t let me walk away.” Because he’d hate himself for weeks and weeks. Because he’d regret everything, maybe for the rest of his life.
Adrian swung around slowly and watched. Eyes intent. Jaw working. Dom couldn’t read the shifting emotions on his face. Not even when he spoke. “Give me your hand, then.”
Dom did, reaching out like Adrian’s fingers were a lifeline. When the grip closed and Adrian pulled him forward, he went, like he had before. Up one step, then another. Adrian didn’t let go when he fished out his keys to unlock his door. Nor when he pulled him into the house and locked them in.
A hand under his chin forced Dom to look up. “Am I that terrifying?”
“No. It’s not you. It’s—” He couldn’t put it into words, and that had him laughing. “See, this is why I don’t do lyrics. I can’t actually get the shit in my head out. But it’s not you. I want you.”
A slight smile at that. Adrian swept a thumb over Dom’s jaw. “Love ’em and leave ’em. And I’m not letting you do that, am I?”
“No, you’re not.” Dom leaned into Adrian’s touch. “You’re making me want to come back. Need to see what happens. Which—that’s never happened.”
Adrian’s gaze flickered. “I’m honored to be the first, then. Especially since I’m not particularly special.” He kissed Dom’s forehead, then let go. “Would you like to see my library? I can lend you that book.”
The resistance in Dominic, that awful hesitation, cracked, because Adrian was absolutely that special. And he never could say no to books. “Yeah. A library would be fine.”
“So books and food are the way to your heart.” Adrian laughed. “No wonder I like you.” He nodded down the hall. “Come with me.”
The hall opened up into a living room, well-appointed with wooden floors and a bright rug. And bookshelves galore, plus a huge TV. Despite the books, something told Dom this wasn’t the room Adrian meant. This wasn’t a library.
Given that Adrian kept going down another hall, Dom must have been correct. Adrian nodded off to the right. “Kitchen’s that way. Dining room is straight ahead.” To the left was a staircase, and they climbed. He paused when they got to the next floor. “Bedrooms. Bathrooms. My office.”
A glimpse told him that Adrian seemed to enjoy greens and blues and golds, because those were the colors that caught Dom’s eye through the open doors. Calming. Soothing. God, he liked this guy.
Adrian rounded the hallway to another set of stairs. “The movers hated me for the next bit. All those boxes of books.”
Even though he steeled himself, when they reached the third floor, Dom exhaled in wonder. “Oh my god.”
The whole third floor of the house had been converted into a library. There was a comfortable reading bench that looked like it might double for a daybed, and a small desk with a chair on the far side, but other than that, there were only shelves and books. And not just along the walls, either. Half-bookcases were situated into little rows, and there were even books stacked on top. Some of the tomes looked old, others new. Dom took one step and then another into the space, and drank it all in.
“I had to have the floor reinforced, but I’ve always wanted a space like this. My own haven.” There was a wistfulness to Adrian’s voice. “Some of these are my great-grandfather’s books.”
“I could live here.” The thought came out of Dom’s lips, unbidden and unstoppable. “You have no idea.”
And there was the laugh Dom was finding heated his bones like no other sound. “I do now,” Adrian said.
Dom stared at Adrian, at the suit he wore so well, the cut, the color. The tiny smile he had. Yeah, he could fall so hard for this man. Hell, he was already zooming down the tracks, screaming his head off in terror, and they’d not even gotten anywhere near a bed.
That smile deepened. “Would it help if I told you I could cook?”
“Can you?”
Adrian nodded. “Though I’ve never tried to make lemon meringue pie.”
Dom didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “If you’re as good in bed as out of it, I’m doomed.”
That smile turned sharp and Adrian stal
ked forward. “Then Dominic, my dear man...” He caught Dom’s neck with both hands and stroked down to his shoulders. “You’re so utterly doomed.”
This time, Adrian’s kiss was hard and deep and didn’t stop. It devoured and claimed, and Dom could only hold on to those strong arms and groan. It was a kiss that would end one way—with Dom completely stripped and undone. With every inhibition removed and with his soul laid bare.
He wanted every single second of that.
Adrian’s fingers pressed into his shoulders, his grip like iron. Not painful, but commanding. He spoke against Dom’s lips. “I’m going to take every stitch of clothing off you, Dominic. Then you’re going to kneel for me and wrap those beautiful lips of yours around my cock.” Teeth scraped Dom’s lower lip. “Yes?”
He couldn’t breathe for how fucking turned on he was. Bones hot, mind whirling. Cock so hard in his jeans it was painful. “Please. Yes.” The books. The sound of Adrian’s voice. The color of those eyes burning into him.
The tie went first, of course, deftly undone by Adrian’s fingers. Lips followed, grazing Dom’s neck as each button of his shirt was undone. He swayed under Adrian’s touch and mouth.
When his shirt was opened, a caress of breath blew across his shoulder. “Now, this I wasn’t expecting. You’re full of layers, Dominic.”
His tattoos. Of course. He kind of forgot about them when he was buttoned up in his button-downs. “Yeah. I...have a lot of ink.”
“So I see.” Adrian tugged the shirt from the waist of Dom’s jeans, then pushed it off his shoulders. It caught at the cuffs, trapping his hands. Adrian took a step back, his eyes roaming across Dom’s chest and belly. There was still bare skin, but Dom knew what else Adrian saw—ink that dipped down past the waistband of his jeans.
He’d never felt more exposed, more naked, despite still wearing his pants. He’d gone shirtless onstage, of course, but rarely took off all his clothes for hookups. Didn’t have to, not when it was meant to be a quick fuck and release before never seeing the dude again. And most of the guys he met found it hot to fuck without much thought about the other person.
Maybe that’s why Adrian scared him so. He noticed things. Asked questions. Wanted to know about Dom. Thank god he wasn’t much of a rock fan, though. There was no sense of recognition of Dom’s tattoos in Adrian’s appreciative and lust-filled appraisal. No sign that he’d seen them on another, very different man.
“They’re masterful.” Adrian feathered fingers down the cardinal wing that covered Dom’s right pec. “Must have taken hour and hours.”
Countless. The heat from Adrian’s fingers on his skin only highlighted just how much of his flesh was covered in ink. “I started when I was eighteen and—I couldn’t get enough.” They were his, too. Dom’s, not Domino’s—despite them being one of Domino’s better known features, and despite him covering them up when he went about his life as Dominic.
“I don’t have any. Never could settle on a design.” Adrian traced his hand up to Adrian’s shoulder, where a circle of Celtic knot-work capped the end. “The Irish in me quite likes this one.”
He brushed his lips against it, and Dom whimpered.
“Turn around, please,” Adrian said.
Dom did, exposing his back and the ink that stretched across his flesh there, too.
“Oh, good god,” Adrian whispered. “I want to devour you.”
Dom shivered. Couldn’t help it. No one had ever spoken to him like that, with that heat and passion. Usually it was merely some variant of “I want my cock in your hole.” Or “Suck my dick.” He didn’t actually know how to process this kind of desire.
Didn’t have time, either. Adrian’s lips skimmed the back of his neck and Dom gasped, pulling the shirt that was still caught up in his hands taut against his lower back.
“How can anyone not think you’re beautiful?” Another murmur of words. “I want to show you so much. All the beauty you possess.”
Dom bit his lip and his eyes watered unexpectedly. Maybe because he was so damn turned on he felt like he’d come right there and then. Maybe it was that Adrian seemed to care, and Dom had only ever found that emotion in his bandmates. The guys he hooked up with wanted one thing—a screaming twink on their cocks.
Caring and sex didn’t go together in Dom’s world. Kind of like how love, relationships, and Domino didn’t mesh.
Adrian tugged at the shirt and freed Dom’s hands. He didn’t know what the hell to do with them, so he curled and uncurled his fingers and tried not to fall over as Adrian blazed hot kissed over his shoulders. Dom’s breath came in huffs and moans, and his dick strained against his jeans.
“You’re too used to getting off fast, aren’t you?” Amusement in those words. Adrian slid a hand around Dom’s waist and undid the button and zipper. “Bet you’ll come the moment I wrap my hand around you.”
Dom bit back the moan. Or tried to. It came out anyway, a thin sound against closed lips.
“Love that sound.” Adrian scraped his teeth against Dom’s neck. “You fighting against yourself.”
Too close to the truth. This wasn’t a hookup at all. He’d be back. If Adrian stopped now, he’d still come back. To hear that voice, to see his smile. “Fuck.”
“Soon.” Adrian hooked fingers into the waistband of Dom’s pants and pushed down until the fabric slid down his legs. Underwear followed, and Dom’s knees nearly buckled.
Adrian steadied him, though, hand across his belly and that strong chest pressed to his back. “I have you.”
And he did. He had Dom’s body and the hooks were already into his heart and soul. He couldn’t do this. He wanted to do this. Needed every moment of this like the parched earth needed rain.
He was so very screwed.
Adrian turned him around, and he was staring back into those brown-gold-blue eyes before Adrian took his mouth into a fierce kiss.
Dom moaned into it, his will to stand slipping away.
It vanished entirely when Adrian wrapped his hand around Dom’s cock. True to his prediction, between the torture of Adrian’s tongue against his and the tightness of his grip, Dom couldn’t stop from coming hard and fast. He clung to Adrian’s suit jacket, tears pricking at his eyes, and Adrian swallowed his shouts and moans.
Adrian caught him with his other arm, pressing them close as Dom spilled himself on him. Fuck. Oh god. He couldn’t breathe or think as his vision hazed over. He was vaguely aware of being lowered to the ground. Hands met hardwood, and when he could focus again, he was staring at Adrian’s leather shoes. They were brown, polished, and the winged stitching was fine and detailed.
Fingers stroked his hair. “I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did.”
The words didn’t make sense, and Dom struggled through the fog to answer. “I’m the one who came.”
“Yes, but I made you.”
The power in those words made Dom look up.
Adrian brushed hair from Dom’s eyes. “I took you apart with words and kisses and a single stroke.” It wasn’t a smile on those lips—nothing so lurid. No, Adrian wore satisfaction and delight. “And I don’t think you’ll ever forget that I did, should you vanish from my life.”
Dom shook his head. “I won’t. Won’t forget it.”
“Good.” That word was like a kiss to Dom’s spine, and it stirred up the desire that hadn’t been quenched by his orgasm.
Nothing about Adrian was anything like any other man Dom had ever met, and he couldn’t get enough. He sat back on his heels. Dark splotches marred the perfection of the cloth of Adrian’s trousers. Semen had even managed to get onto the jacket. Despite that—or maybe because—Adrian was still visibly thick and hard under the wool.
Dom licked his lips. “I’ve ruined your suit.”
A laugh. “There are plenty of dry cleaners in New York, Dominic. And if I hadn’t wanted you to come on me
, I wouldn’t have turned you around.” Adrian smiled down. “I rather like the thought of knowing your jizz was all over this suit when I’m sitting at my job.”
That thought lit through him like lightning.
Adrian caressed his cheek. “You’re so fucking expressive. So moved by everything, aren’t you? Books. Food. Art. I bet you’ve wept at paintings.”
Dom nodded. “I don’t like...people seeing that.”
A raised eyebrow, but Adrian didn’t say anything.
Yeah, that wasn’t quite the truth, was it? “Okay, I like controlling what people see.”
Except here, he wasn’t. At all.
A smile tugged at Adrian’s mouth. “Layers and layers.” The smile drifted away. “I want to see more, Dominic, but only what you want to show.” Fingers traced lines over Dom’s cheeks.
God, did he want to open himself fully to Adrian. Tell him everything. Blurt out the truth about the band and himself—but terror chased behind that need. Once he did, he could never take it back—Adrian would know.
And maybe Dominic would vanish if that happened. After all, fucking a rock star was so much more than fucking a bookish twink.
Dom needed this side of himself as much as he needed the hard-rocking guitarist. Needed the privacy and the lack of expectations. Needed to be made to come and be manhandled.
Now a frown tugged at Adrian. “Are you all right?”
“I—” Dom shivered, more from thoughts than cold; despite the AC, the warmth of the summer pressed in from the roof. “I want to give you more. But—”
Adrian’s expression softened. “Only what you can, when you can. I won’t press. I’m not that kind of man.”
“And here I thought you were the kind of man who’d fuck me into oblivion.”
The sharpness returned, and Adrian stepped in close, tilting Dom’s chin up until it was almost uncomfortable. “Oh, I am that man. And I plan to fuck you so hard that there won’t be any other thought in your mind but my cock and no other word on your tongue but my name.” He pressed his thumb against Dom’s bottom lip. “Would you like that, Dominic?”
“Yes.” He groaned the word out, the spark of need and lust spinning in him again. He wasn’t hard—doubted he would be coaxed back so quickly—but the pain and pleasure of being fucked? He wanted that all the same.