by Ashlyn Kane
Naomi beamed.
“Okay, talk to Murph, see what can be done about this—” He waved a hand at the busy bar. “—and I’ll join you on stage.”
She hurried away.
Jax figured their trio would be first up after the break, so he was surprised when he heard the violin once again. Ari stood on the stage alone, slowly pulling out the melody and vocals of Elton John’s “Your Song.”
Jax’s mother had never had a broad taste in music, but she’d had favorites. He had grown up listening to Elton John and had always loved the earnest simplicity of “Your Song.”
When Ari reached the line about eye color, he looked over at Jax and winked.
Jax swallowed and reprimanded himself for wanting to swoon. Surely Ari wasn’t playing “Your Song” as some sort of message for him.
Not that it wasn’t working as a seduction technique, deliberate or not. God, Jax was so ready. He wondered if Ari would forgive him if he dragged him into the break room and gave him a blowjob.
Probably. Jax’s blowjobs were legendary.
The song finished, and Ari announced there’d be a short break while they prepped to rotate in another musician. That meant a sudden surge of patrons at the bar. Murph appeared from somewhere, and Bruce the bouncer came in to help out as well. Jax spent a few minutes on autopilot, elbows-deep in liquor and mixers.
Then he looked up and found Ari watching him with the hint of a smile. It was a good look for him—like he knew something Jax didn’t. That expression on Ari? Made Jax want to learn all his secrets.
“Hey, stranger,” Jax said, leaning forward across the bar. “Your usual?”
“Hmm, I don’t think so.” Ari tapped his fingers on the bar top, eyes dancing. Oh, was he going to turn the tables tonight? Was it Jax’s turn to be teased? Jax couldn’t wait. “I’m looking for something different tonight.”
Jax grabbed a glass and filled it with ice. “Yeah? You want to tell me about it?”
Ari wet his lips. Jax’s heart stuttered at the quick flash of tongue, but then it was gone. He was teasing. “Well, it’s got coconut rum.”
Oh boy. Was he going to order what Jax thought he was going to order? “Uh-huh,” Jax said, grabbing the bottle. “What else?”
“Orange liqueur.”
Jax skipped right past the triple sec and the Cointreau. Only the best for Ari. He snagged the Grand Marnier. “Got it.”
“Grenadine for sweetness.” Oh God. “And some citrus.” Ari gave him a wry look, as though he were almost ashamed of what he was going to say, but he said it anyway: “It should be a little tart.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong. Jax wanted to laugh, but he was so turned-on he could barely pour the alcohol without spilling. He topped up the glass with 7-Up like he was supposed to—it wasn’t like he didn’t know what he was making—but then asked, “Anything else?”
He just had to know if Ari would say it. “A splash of Irish cream.”
Fuck. Jax’s dick did not have a prayer. He was going to be hard through the whole set, but it’d be worth it. “Coming right up,” he said hoarsely.
God. Tonight’s set was going to be interesting, to say the least.
With three of them working behind the bar, it didn’t take long to clear the backlog, and soon Murph was shooing Jax up toward the stage. The crowd let out a cheer as Murph switched off the Spotify playlist and the house mics went live again.
“Friends, Romans, countrymen—” Jax began, sliding into his seat at the piano. Behind him, he could hear Naomi laughing. At the other side of the stage, Ari smirked and raised his violin. “I’ve been freed from the bar, thanks to the relief efforts of Bruce the bouncer. Everybody say ‘Thank you, Bruce.’”
Everyone dutifully thanked him, including Ari and Naomi.
Jax walked up a bunch of arpeggios, D minor, C, down to B flat, then A. “I think we’ve all been wanting to play this since the first time Ari showed up. I hope you’ll like it too.”
He glanced at Kayla, and she nodded. Ari lifted his bow. Jax didn’t need to check Naomi; she was always ready.
“Here goes.”
Kayla counted them in for “The Devil Went Down to Georgia.”
The song was heavy on fiddle, with the piano a thumping, driving backbeat. Ari took the introductory lead at a blistering pace, and it was all Jax could do to keep up and keep the lyrics on-key. As he laid out the terms of the wager between the devil and Johnny, he wondered which of his band mates would take on which role.
It probably shouldn’t have surprised him that Ari chose the devil.
Thank God Jax had practiced the piano part to back the fiddle solos until his fingers ached. It meant he could watch Ari in his element, eyes blazing, slightly sweaty curls flying around his face as he burned through a solo that sounded absolutely nothing like any recorded version of the song Jax had ever listened to. He’d never heard a fiddle that sounded like it wanted you to do a line of cocaine and then drive your motorcycle off a cliff before. Hell, if the devil were real and half as convincing as Ari, Jax’s soul was as good as sold.
He was so distracted that he had to go through the bridge part twice to get to the next verse, which was fine; the audience was still cheering for the first one. But Jax couldn’t just go on with the song. He kept his fingers moving and said into the microphone, “Hey, Ari. You know the devil’s supposed to lose the bet, right?”
Naomi kicked the piano bench, which was fair.
“All right, all right, you’ll get your turn,” Jax grumbled, but his face wouldn’t stop grinning.
When the song ended, the crowd roared their appreciation, and Jax made sure to direct that applause at Ari and Naomi specifically. “Wow, I am seriously outclassed,” Jax said with a shake of his head.
“Good thing you’re cute,” Kayla agreed.
He reached into the jar for a handful of requests—something a little less intense, maybe, but also something that would keep the energy high. The night was pretty well shot, and he wanted to end the evening with a bang.
In more ways than one.
“What do you think?” he asked Naomi.
She leaned over his shoulder and scanned the offerings. Then she smiled and tapped one with an immaculate nail. “Oh, make Ari sit this one out. He should get the full effect.”
“You’re on this team too, eh?” He grinned, then leaned into the mic. “Hey, Ari. Naomi says take five, we got this one.”
Ari raised his eyebrows, lowered his violin, and bowed off to the side. “I look forward to it.”
“I can’t believe you’re helping me get laid,” he muttered to her, sotto voce.
She snorted. “Not you, idiot.” Then she took center stage.
This time they all waited for her signal. Jax took a deep breath, feeling like he really had done a line of coke. He fixed his eyes on Ari, who was looking at him like he was—Jax didn’t even know. A Maraschino cherry stem he wanted to tie a knot in with his tongue.
Naomi bowed the sharp staccato notes of the intro, and the bar roared.
Jax didn’t even pretend to look at anyone else as he let his voice go high and breathy. Was it absolutely ridiculous to sing “Toxic” to the man you wanted to take you home? Yes. Had that ever stopped Jax before? No. And by now Ari knew that.
From the look in his eyes, he was into it.
By the end of the song, Jax was dizzy with wanting it; he had no idea how he made it to the end of his shift.
It was possible that he was shoved out the door early for being gross, but Jax didn’t care because Ari stood next to him and leaned down to husk into his ear, “Tell me you’re coming home with me.”
“Yes,” Jax breathed, and they stumbled into a cab. Jax might not have had anything to drink, but he wasn’t sober. His bike would be safe for the night. Probably.
Ari’s loft wasn’t far. He guided Jax into the building with a hand on the small of his back, and the gentle sweep of his thumb over Jax’s spine ratcheted his arousal up more and mor
e.
They didn’t talk on their way up or as Ari was unlocking his front door. As soon as they were inside, Jax spun, pushed their bodies together, and kissed him.
Ari’s mouth was wide and giving under Jax’s eager press. Ari placed a hand on the back of Jax’s head, his keys clattered to the ground, and the other hand settled on Jax’s hip. He hummed into the kiss and licked Jax’s lips, and Jax didn’t think he’d ever had a first kiss this good.
He opened for Ari’s tongue and pushed back, pressing into Ari’s mouth, testing, tasting. Ari scratched his nails over Jax’s scalp, and the noise that escaped Jax then could only be classified as a whimper. Judging by the sharp forward thrust of Ari’s hips, he was into it.
Ari trailed his lips up to Jax’s ear. “What do you want, Jax?” The low tone sent shivers through him.
“Fuck. Everything. Anything. God, Ari—” He cut off with a strangled moan as Ari dragged his teeth across the tender skin below his ear.
Ari purred and said in the same husky voice, “You tell me if I do anything you don’t like.”
“Yes, yes,” Jax breathed. He might be drunk on lust, but he was aware enough to recognize that for the negotiation it was—let me guide you. Jax was nothing if not predictable in that regard.
Ari hauled him into the bedroom, yanking Jax’s clothes off as they went, getting his mouth on all the newly exposed skin. Jax did his best to return the favor but found the buttons on Ari’s shirt difficult to work with Ari’s mouth on his collarbone and one of his hands pinching his nipple.
He was naked when Ari pushed him down onto his bed, and Ari was shirtless, revealing a moderately hairy chest. He shimmied out of his jeans and prowled onto the bed, over Jax.
Jax grabbed his head and pulled him down into a kiss. He spread his legs and hooked one over Ari’s thighs, trying to pull them closer. Ari resisted—Why? Jax pulled, and Ari pulled back, nibbled Jax’s lip. Then, after Jax stopped pulling, as if to prove Jax couldn’t make him do anything, Ari pressed forward and their hips collided. The press of Ari’s cloth-covered cock against his own was delicious, and Jax moaned into the kiss. Then Ari thrust his hips and made it better. Yes! Jax arched into the friction, hooked his other leg around Ari’s hips, and let him set the pace.
Then Ari stopped thrusting. Jax whined into his mouth, scratched at his shoulders, arched his back, trying to entice Ari into movement, but his hips stayed still. He pulled his mouth off Jax’s and kissed his neck, his collarbone, his chest. He worked his way south and stopped at Jax’s nipples for a nibble and at his belly button for a lick, but he was clearly a man on a mission.
He pushed Jax’s legs wide, loosening their grip around his back, and shimmied down until he was head to head with Jax’s dick. Without further ado, he leaned in and licked, base to tip. Then he took Jax into his mouth and sank all the way down.
Jax shouted and arched off the bed, but Ari pulled off with a growl, pinned Jax’s hips, and went back to work.
He sucked Jax like he was starving for it, working the base while he sucked the head, pulling off to lick all over, rolling and tugging at Jax’s balls, taking him all in, to the back of his throat. Jax hadn’t been sucked off this enthusiastically in—ever, maybe. He clutched at the sheets, Ari’s hair, covered his mouth to stifle some of the loud moans. He hardly knew what he was doing.
Ari placed two fingers behind his balls and pressed, and Jax’s legs spasmed and tried to shut until Ari wrestled Jax’s thighs flat against the mattress. He looked up at Jax, his dark eyes black under his sweeping lashes, and Jax gasped and just about came, even though Ari’s mouth was not currently on his dick.
“I’m gonna come,” Jax breathed in warning.
“Good.” Ari deep-throated him in one go, his eyes still on Jax’s.
Granted permission, Jax couldn’t hold back, and when Ari once again pressed on his perineum, he shouted, slammed his eyes shut, and came, his fingers twisted in Ari’s hair. Ari hummed and swallowed and didn’t release Jax until he was gasping and tugging his hair. “Please!”
Ari finally pulled off, and Jax collapsed into the sheets, quivering and panting, a puddle of sated goo. Ari gave him a few cleaning licks, then crawled up Jax’s body. Was it too cliché to compare his lover to a wildcat? The look in his eyes was certainly predatory. Jax shivered in delight and pulled Ari to him for a sated grateful kiss.
Ari wiggled his hips, his hand brushed against Jax’s, and then the cotton briefs separating them were gone.
“I can suck you,” Jax said between kisses. He made a move to get up, to roll them over, but Ari laced their fingers together and pressed Jax’s hands into the pillow.
“Later.” Ari settled himself comfortably over Jax and started to thrust, rubbing his dick into the cut of Jax’s hip, his belly bumping Jax’s sensitive cock, and God, Jax might just get hard again.
He wanted to protest that he wanted Ari’s dick in his mouth, had wanted it for weeks, but he got the feeling Ari had a plan. Jax was happy to call the shots at the bar and just as happy to take a back seat in the bedroom.
Especially when taking a back seat meant rolling his hips up to meet Ari’s, lifting his head to catch Ari’s lips in another kiss, and angling his body until their cocks slid together.
The contact was almost too much on his oversensitive skin, and he unintentionally bit Ari’s lip. If the noises Ari made were any indication, he didn’t object.
But it was only a moment before Ari pulled away, scraping his stubble against Jax’s cheek. “Not too sensitive?”
They both glanced down at the same time. Their cocks nestled alongside each other, Jax’s still glistening with saliva, Ari’s uncut one leaking on Jax’s abs. They were both hard.
“Pretty sensitive,” Jax admitted, “but turns out I’m into it?”
Ari’s eyes went dark—darker—but he didn’t lower himself all the way. Instead he raised his hand to Jax’s mouth. “Lick.”
Jax’s dick jerked in approval. No way Ari didn’t feel it. He looked like he wanted to eat Jax alive.
Jax licked, thick and sloppy, because he was into the sensitive thing but chafing was still a hard no. Real lube would’ve been better, if it hadn’t meant stopping.
Fuck stopping.
Ari wrapped his hand around them both, then slotted his mouth back over Jax’s.
Jax was right about violinists’ hands. Ari was playing him expertly.
It didn’t take long with Ari stroking them together like that. One minute Ari groaned into Jax’s mouth as Jax fisted one hand in his hair and dug the other into the flesh of his ass. The next Ari was tearing his mouth away, sitting back on his heels to watch as he came all over Jax, splattering his chest and stomach. Hot liquid coated his fingers too, and Jax’s cock, until Ari was jerking Jax off with his come for lube.
“Fuck,” Jax said weakly.
Ari rubbed his thumb under the head. He looked wild, his tangled, sweaty curls framing his face, his lips swollen. “Jax.”
“Uhh,” Jax said as his orgasm ripped out of him.
For a moment he lay still as Ari knelt above him, both of them breathing hard. Jax’s mind was blissfully blank. After the night he’d had, he knew sleep was lurking right around the corner. Probably within the next five minutes.
Their eyes met, and oh no, were things going to get awkward? Was it too soon for sleepovers? Should he leave?
Ari blinked first, when he broke eye contact to rake his eyes down Jax’s chest and stomach and—
Jax cleared his throat, flushing despite the fact that he’d been writhing shamelessly under Ari’s touch forty seconds previously. “I appreciate your appreciation, but I need at least an hour if you want me to get it up again, and I’m about three and a half minutes from unconsciousness. Do you want me to leave?”
Ari blinked again, his brows drawing together slightly. Jax felt very naked. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh,” Jax said faintly, instinctively burrowing deeper into the mattress. It was a nice o
ne, with nice sheets too. “Okay.”
“Stay here,” Ari said, voice suddenly warm. Jax couldn’t see his face anymore; his eyes were closing. “I’ll get a washcloth.”
“Mm-hmm,” Jax agreed.
He was so comfortable.
Ari was gone for a moment, and Jax drifted into a haze of post-orgasmic bliss. The next thing he knew, something soft and warm was between his legs, wiping over his chest and stomach.
Then Ari climbed into bed and curled an arm over Jax’s waist, and wasn’t that nice.
It was so nice.
Jax slept.
Chapter Seven
ARI WAS six pages deep in the music of the third track, playing the electric keyboard with the volume down low, when the door to his apartment swung open.
“Ari? Are you home? I heard music….” A pause. “It smells like a bordello in here.”
Lifting his head, Ari scrambled for his phone. What time was it? Why hadn’t he heard the knock? What was she doing here? Oh God, was it really almost ten?
“What the hell have you been up to? You better not be naked.”
“I’m—” He cut himself off. He’d put pajama pants on, at least, because having your balls stuck to the piano bench was never a good time. “Please be quiet,” he said resignedly instead.
Afra paused in the act of taking off her shoes and actually looked at him. Her eyebrows rose and her mouth opened. She stood on one foot for a handful of seconds and then finally recovered. “Shit, shit, I knew I should have called first. Is this a bad time?”
On the contrary. It was a very good time. Emphasis on was. But if Afra was here without warning, obviously something was up.
Ari stood up and crossed to the bedroom door. Jax was passed out in the bed, half tangled in blankets, chest rising and falling steadily. Ari had never seen him so still.
Reluctantly, he closed the door and gestured Afra to the couch. “What’s going on?”
“I could ask you the same question.”