by Anna Zabo
Perfect. Too much. Never enough.
I’m screwed.
Even more so when, after disposing of the condom and the tissues Dom had used to clean his chest, Adrian slid in next to him, wrapped his arms around him, and muttered three words.
“I love you.”
They were so soft, and Adrian fell asleep a moment later, so Dom didn’t even know if Adrian had realized he’d voiced them.
But Dom had heard them, and his whole world tumbled down, along with his heart.
* * *
Sunday morning, a week and a day after their trip to the Met, was just as lazy as Saturday, and once again, Adrian had made love to Dom, a contrast from the previous evening that had left bruises on his hips and scratches on Adrian’s back. Adrian had taken him dancing, and the club had been out of this world. Gay. Loud. Full of beautiful people.
Not a single soul recognized him as Domino. It was so damn liberating that he bumped and ground and teased Adrian—who everyone seemed to have known—without mercy.
They’d very nearly fucked in the bathroom because of that, though Adrian got close to bringing Dom off and had left him hard and panting. “That’s what bad boys get when they’re cock teases,” Adrian had growled into his ear.
When they’d gotten back, Adrian had wrapped those leather cuffs around his wrists again, tied him to the bedframe, and fucked him so hard, Dom must have woken the neighbors with his screams of pleasure.
Now they lounged on the couch, books in hand, claimed from the library two floors up. Over near the entrance to Adrian’s brownstone, the photograph he’d bought for Dom was all wrapped up and ready to go home with him. He had no idea where he’d put it in his big but empty house. And seeing the photo before the gallery workers had wrapped it for him had flipped his heart and mind over and over. To be tied like that. Held like that. His body craved knowing, especially since the experiment that other weekend had turned him inside out in so many ways.
They’d picked the photo up Saturday, after they’d gone to a production of The Tempest in Bryant Park, then stumbled upon an interesting lecture about immigration in the New York Public Library.
It was, as Adrian said before taking him clubbing, another great day of playing tourist in their own city.
Dom had seen some posters about the Twisted Wishes concert, too, at the club and while they’d wandered all over the city. Weird to walk right by a poster blaring the name of his band. Adrian didn’t even give them a second glance, which was fine. Less complex. Less complicated.
Except for the gnawing feeling in the back of Dom’s head and the voice that told him he was living a lie. Eventually he’d have to confess and trust Adrian with his secret—or walk away.
He had no idea what Adrian would think. What he would do.
And that was the musing on his mind as he sat with Adrian on the couch, their legs entwined as they read. Dom had a book of poetry on his lap and Adrian had been paging through a pamphlet about the makings of the borders of New York State. There were more books strewn on the coffee table.
When he glanced over, the pamphlet was closed on Adrian’s lap, and his gaze was locked on Dom like a spotlight.
Heat flared in Dom’s veins, because he’d come to know that calculated expression and that wicked smile—and welcomed it.
“Would you like to try something a little more interesting with rope?”
Dom closed the book of poetry he hadn’t really been reading. “Yes.” Didn’t even have to know what more interesting meant.
Adrian chuckled, then nudged him with his foot. “Up then. Let’s head to the bedroom.”
There was this subtle change in Adrian when he was giving orders, a deeper voice, a more exact pronunciation. Even the way he held his body was different, despite being relaxed.
Power. Control. Dom had read a little about what it was like to be a Dominant. Didn’t really get it all, but obviously it really was a thing for Adrian, and he had all those signs now. That shift in being ticked Dom’s heart up and shook out his soul and mind.
The submission thing? Yeah, he got that. Loved that feeling. Didn’t know why, despite reading those books Adrian had lent him. Didn’t care, because some part of him felt so damn good when he followed what Adrian said—even if it was the simplest of orders, like go upstairs. That would lead to more commands, and surrendering himself, and being lost and safe in whatever Adrian chose for today.
He could forget about the future. Forget the other half of his life. Forget the words he’d voiced out loud to the band.
He paused when they reached and entered the bedroom, and Adrian circled him from behind, pulling their bodies close and brushing his lips over what Dom suspected was one of Adrian’s favorite spots—the back of Dom’s neck.
Made him whimper every time.
“Love that sound,” Adrian murmured. “Take all of your clothes off. I want you naked for this.”
Dom exhaled. “Yeah. Okay.” Naked was always a good start. But Adrian didn’t let go.
He spoke, deep and dark against that sensitive spot on Dom’s neck. “I’m going to tie you more fully today. Arms. Torso. Legs. See if you like it.”
Dom trembled, needing, wanting to tell Adrian he wanted what was being offered. “I’ve been dreaming about that. Like the photo.”
“Yes, like the photo. All that skin and rope. Except my rope, and your flesh, body, and mind, Dominic.”
Adrian’s arms might have been the only things holding him up. He leaned back into his heat. “Perfect.”
“Mmmhmm. And if you like the experience and are comfortable...” Adrian nipped Dom’s neck. “I’m gonna fuck you nice and hard in those ropes, too.”
It was like Adrian flipped a switch in Dom. In an instant, he’d gone from mildly aroused to hard as hell and needing every inch of Adrian possessing him. “Oh fuck. Yes, please.”
“We’ll see.” Another kiss ghosted over Dom’s neck, and Adrian let go. “Clothes off, Dominic.”
He didn’t waste any time undressing, but rather than throw his shirt and jeans all over the place, he folded them somewhat haphazardly and dropped them onto a bench on the side of the room. Everything went, down to his socks and his watch.
Adrian’s admiration was obvious, from the heat in his stare to the hard bulge of his dick in his jeans. “Onto the bed, please, on your back.”
Dom loved this bed more than his own. His was inherently lonely. This one? Large and full of life and company. He positioned himself in the middle, arms at his sides.
“Hmm, no. Arms up above your head.”
He swallowed and raised both toward the headboard. Wasn’t uncomfortable, but it did leave him feeling more open, more exposed. His breathing hitched up a notch.
Adrian must have noticed, because he raised an eyebrow. “Everything all right?”
“Just fucking turned on.”
A wicked, wicked quirk to those lips, but no reply. From his dresser drawer of goodies, Adrian pulled out several bundles of the black rope he’d used before—but far more bundles. He placed them on the bench by the bed, then scanned Dom’s body, that same burning desire in his eyes as before.
It wasn’t entirely sexual, Dom realized. Sure, Adrian was hard, but the way he flicked his eyes over Dom’s flesh—it wasn’t with the gaze of someone who wanted to devour.
Adrian wanted to possess. Tame. Have.
Dom couldn’t help the shudder.
That gaze softened a little, and Adrian went back to the drawer to pull out another item—a pair of large scissors. He placed them on the bedside table. “At any time you need out, tell me, and I’ll have you free as fast as possible.”
Dom nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.” He paused. “But I want this. You know I do.”
“I do know. But wanting and handling can sometimes be different things.” He patted Dom’s calf
. “Trust me on this.”
He had no other choice, really.
Dom had expected Adrian to start at his wrists and work down, but that’s not what happened. He started at the chest and worked up and down, shifted Dom this way and that. Looping, knotting, tying until rope crossed his body in weblike patterns and Dom felt the gentle pressure and friction with every breath. Arms were secured above his head, wrists tied together. Both arms bound down with rope. Adrian stroked and touched and murmured as he worked, and Dom’s nerves zinged and shook. His skin felt tight, and he was light and strong and secure in the web Adrian created over his body.
Then he worked his way down, rope lying over Dom’s hips and between his legs and—
Dom sucked in a breath and moaned when Adrian crossed the rope around the base of his cock. Lifted and separated his balls. Not tight, though. Just enough that he knew those bonds were there.
As if answering Dom’s thoughts, Adrian spoke, his words low and husky. “Yes, I could make it tighter. But we really haven’t discussed cock and ball torture. So we’ll leave that for now.”
Cock and—“I haven’t gotten to that chapter yet.”
Adrian laughed and set to work on his legs. Those were bound together, all the way down to his ankles. Adrian even wove rope between his toes.
The bed shifted beneath Dom when Adrian finished and stood. “There.” Adrian had a quirk of a smile.
He didn’t ask how Dom felt, which was good, since he didn’t even know how to process the sensations over his body. Rope pulled when he shivered or breathed or flexed a muscle, sending spikes of awareness down his body. There was security here, but also terror because he really was completely tied up and at Adrian’s mercy. He could move his arms a little more than the rest of his body—but not much.
Strangely, he was hard—but not aroused. At least not in the way he normally thought of it; that driving need to fuck wasn’t there.
Adrian drew his finger in a circle around Dom’s bellybutton, and everything went hazy. He moaned against the touch. Ropes pulled. Skin responded.
And oh, that grin. “Yes. Very nice. You’re a dream, Dominic.”
This felt like one, like some strange, surreal moment where everything he’d ever desired coalesced into one thing—the ropes around his body. He tried for words, but that seemed like too much, so he just met Adrian’s gaze.
A chuckle and more touches, and the same overwhelming flood of sensations. Adrian ghosted fingers and tongue over so much of Dom’s body. Rope shifted. Skin sang. No idea how long it lasted, but in the end, he was whimpering.
He was exhausted. He wanted more. “Please.” This time, he managed to get that word out.
Adrian bent down and kissed him. Not the devouring kiss he expected, but a sweet one that tasted of calm and quiet. He cupped Dom’s face. “I’m gonna untie you.”
Dom croaked. “But—sex?” Then again, the thought of Adrian flipping him over and plowing into him made him squeeze his eyes shut as waves of pleasure rippled over his body.
The hand remained. “Not tonight. You’re a little too far gone. And this is new to you.”
“Okay.” Yeah, ’cause he was actually really out of it. Good god. This was like being drunk.
“Dominic, thank you for trusting me. It’s been—a very long while for me.”
Dom had no idea what that meant. “Welcome.”
Adrian slowly unwound the rope from Dom’s body, so carefully, so reverently, it felt like worship, and in the end, all Dom wanted to do was melt into the mattress. He wasn’t even hard anymore.
“That was amazing,” he whispered when Adrian covered him with a light blanket, then lay down next to him under it, naked, as well.
“Yes, it was.” Adrian kissed the tip of Dom’s nose. “I set an alarm for later. Enough time to make you dinner before you need to go home.”
“Wish I didn’t have to.” The truth slipped out.
A small sigh. “But you do. You have a whole other life out there, and I know you love it. I’ll never keep you from it.”
Dom buried his face in the crook of Adrian’s neck. He was in love with this man. He trusted this man.
He needed to tell Adrian about the band.
Not yet, his brain whispered. Not tonight. Later.
Yeah. Because if he opened his mouth now, he might ruin the night he’d just had—that they both had just had. But he could say something.
“I love you, too.”
Adrian’s breath caught, and he wrapped his arms around Dom—bonds that Dom loved more than rope. More than anything else.
He needed Adrian as much as he needed Twisted Wishes.
Chapter Fourteen
Dom brought all the clothing and makeup to become Domino when he went to the studio on Monday. He should have gotten up early. Hell, he’d gone to bed as soon has he’d gotten home from Adrian’s and slept through the night. He could have.
But his heart hadn’t been in it. Because reality had come crashing back down on Dom the moment he’d cracked his eyes open in his empty room in his empty house.
He’d told Adrian that he loved him. He was in love with Adrian Doran.
That should have been a happy realization, but as he stared up at his white ceiling, all he could think about was stepping out onstage as Dominic, not Domino.
And that filled him with terror.
His heart pounded against his rib cage and he kept coming back to that vision of everyone discovering that Domino wasn’t a rock god at all but a nerd under all that leather and makeup. Ray might think he was the best guitarist, but that couldn’t be right.
Except Ray didn’t lie about shit like that.
Dom buried his head under the pillow, and fought against the throbbing in his head and the bitter taste in his mouth.
He’d remained in bed far past when he should have gotten up to sneak out as Domino as he tried to talk his panicked mind out of the spinning and spinning it’d gotten itself into. Except that wasn’t really working too well this morning. His brain wouldn’t shut up.
So he’d thrown all of Domino’s things in a duffel and slinked into the studio about a half hour late. He waited for Ray to give him crap, but his best friend’s eyes only widened as he slumped down into his seat.
Zavier, as usual, said nothing, but very loudly.
“Hon, are you all right?” Mish took the duffel from his shoulder and pulled him into her arms.
Damn it, he was not going to cry, he was not going to—and then he was, weeping into Mish’s shoulder.
She crooned at him. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”
“It’s a panic attack,” he murmured. “Just a panic attack. I need...” Air. He took a breath and let Mish guide him to a chair. His panic wormed its way through his body, setting his heart on triple time, shaking his hands.
Fuck, he needed this to stop. It had been a while, and there was no reason for it. None.
Except being caught between Domino and Dominic and needing to be both people at the same time. Wanting to bring Adrian into this side of his life, but being too terrified to do it.
A moment later, Ray crouched at his feet, a bottle of water in his hand, which he offered to Dom. “Hey, there’s no one here who doesn’t love you.”
Dom hiccupped a laugh, the tears dried-up but his body still shaking and hot-cold. “I know. It’s—nothing.”
Ray sat on the floor and Dom met his gaze. “Dom, we’ve known each other since we were fourteen. This ain’t nothing.”
Rather than reply, Dom cracked open the water bottle and drank. Mish was at his back, Ray at his front. That left one other bandmate. “Zav, where are you?”
“Here.” He was over on Dom’s left, leaning against a nearby table that held more water and some snacks. “Didn’t know what help I could be.”
“I used to get panic at
tacks before concerts, when we started playing live. Even when I was dressed as Domino, I’d need about an hour to get myself into a good enough space to step out onstage. I was always worried someone would find me out and realize I wasn’t the rocker people thought.” Not the kick-ass guitarist.
Zavier pushed off the table. “You’re an incredibly talented musician, Dom.” He came and stood near Ray. “And I don’t say that lightly.”
No, he didn’t. Zavier was honest almost to a fault when it came to music and whether something worked and sounded good. He’d even call Ray out if songs weren’t coming together right.
“I know. It’s...not a lack of confidence.”
“It’s a change in your life,” Ray said, almost to himself.
Zavier looked thoughtful.
“That boy toy of yours giving you trouble?” Mish rubbed Dom’s shoulders, and man, that felt good.
He took another draw of water. “Just the opposite.” He paused. “And he’s like...nine years older? Not exactly a boy toy.”
Ray’s eyebrows shot up. “So it’s serious?”
Zavier huffed. “It’s been serious since day one, I think.”
Interesting how embarrassment could pull him out of panic. This was the kind of stuff he knew, was used to. Loved about his bandmates. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m feeling better. Maybe we should practice?”
“Have you told him?” Zavier’s question rammed a spike of terror right back into Dom’s soul. He struggled to shrug it off, blinking a few times.
“Zav!” Ray looked up at his husband, then back to Dom. “Tell him what?”
“About the band,” Dom said.
That got him a look of confusion. Then Ray kicked his foot and his voice pitched high. “You still haven’t told him about the band?”
“I—No. I mean, if it turned out to be a fling, I didn’t want him to run off and tell anyone.”
Mish patted his shoulders again. “He that kinda guy?”
“No.”
Zavier shifted, and Dom looked up at him. “I suspect even if you parted ways, he’d keep your secrets, Dom.” The way Zavier said that made Ray look up again.