by Jess Dee
“The opening line.”
“Go on.”
“See, there’s the problem. I can’t. That’s all I’ve got.”
Luke snorted. “Not very much, is it?”
Seth stared at him drolly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
Luke bit back his laughter. Seth didn’t need that now, he needed direction. “Okay, so how long have you been playing around with it?”
“A few months now. Maybe longer.” He nodded. “Definitely longer.”
“And what’s it about?”
“You.”
Whoa. “Pardon?”
“The song’s about you.”
Keep it simple. Keep impersonal. “You’re writing about a band manager?”
“No. I’m writing about you in my life. Now, forever and always.”
Oh, fuck.
“Because that’s my dream, Lucas. You in my life. Now, forever and always.”
Impersonal, Struthers! Make sure you remain aloof. “No problem there. As long as Speed exists, I’ll be in your life.” Heck, as long as the Pace family existed, Luke would be in his life. He loved that family like his own.
Correction, he loved that family better than he’d ever loved his own.
Seth shook his head. He eyed Luke intensely, not letting Luke drop his gaze for even a second. And in Seth’s expression he saw every bit of the adulation and adoration the kid had always held for him.
Damn kid. What did he know? Turning Luke into something he wasn’t. Into something he could never be—no matter how much he might want to be that something for Seth.
“This song has got nothing to do with Speed. It’s about us, Lucas. About where we’re going from here.”
Shit. So much for keeping it impersonal. “Maybe that’s why you’re blocked. I’ve told you a thousand times—we’re not going anywhere.” Every time he’d told Seth, Seth had simply disregarded his words, treating them as if they meant nothing. “This, what we have, that’s it.”
“Yeah, you know, I thought about that. Thought about the number of times you’d said as much, and how every time you said it, you made it sound like the gospel truth.”
Luke raised an eyebrow. That was more than Seth had ever acknowledged about Luke’s attempts to disillusion him.
“I even tried to write your sentiments into the first verse.”
“You did?”
Seth nodded and began to hum a tune Luke had never heard before. His fingers curled into position around an imaginary guitar, and he plucked out silent chords. Before Luke knew it, Seth was singing.
“Now, forever and always, we’re going nowhere.
“Quit dreaming, ’cause we’re already there.
“This is it, this will be all.
“If you think there’s more, you’re the fool.”
The words trailed off, leaving only silence.
Seth dropped his hands into his lap.
Luke stared at him, unsure what to say.
Seth shrugged. “It didn’t work. Still doesn’t. I need a different follow-on after the first four words.”
Luke began to sweat.
In the darkest hours of the night, when he lay awake with nothing but his thoughts for company, he’d admit the truth to himself. Then, and only then, when there was no one around to witness his deepest desires, he’d admit that if life had been different and if his legacy had been inherited from anyone other than his father, he and Seth could have had everything together. Could have gone anywhere together. Now, forever and always.
But now was not one of those private times. Now Seth was here, and Luke’s deepest wishes had to remain buried. For Seth’s sake. Now, as much as Seth wanted to change the lyrics, change the direction of the song, he couldn’t. Luke couldn’t let him.
“Actually, kid, I think the song has incredible potential.” Luke did think that. He wasn’t bullshitting Seth. He just knew Seth didn’t agree. “The tune’s good. It’s simple, catchy.” Zachary would improve on it. “And the start, well, it sets a tone. Tells me this isn’t going to be just another ballad or just another song of hope and love. And that will make it stand out from every other song out there.”
Seth remained expressionless. He didn’t laugh, didn’t smile, didn’t frown and didn’t sneer. “So you think I should carry on working with it? Add words to a concept I hate?”
“You could make a good song out of it. A great song. Hell, kid, you could write a great song about a stained coffee cup. You’re that good. Give it a go. Think of the next verse. Or if that’s too complicated, just the next line.”
Seth looked at him for a long time without responding. A very long time.
It wasn’t the lengthy silence that bothered Luke. Seth often got lost in his thoughts, especially when he was working out lyrics. But when Seth was immersed in a song, in figuring out what word to use when and what tune to play it to, his fingers always worked too, like they had just a moment ago. They played the chords of an imaginary guitar, strumming away to music only Seth could hear.
Luke had always found it sexy as hell. Always loved to watch as those fingers moved with an intuitive ease that came from a lifetime of playing. He always wished those fingers were playing him and not some imaginary stringed instrument.
Seth’s hands remained motionless now. His fingers didn’t even beat a rhythm on his legs as they sometimes did.
“Seth?”
Seth frowned.
“Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Seth shrugged. “It’s not there.”
“What’s not there?”
“The song. The words. They’re all gone.” He shook his head. “I’ve got nothing.”
“It’s okay. Take your time. It’ll come back.”
Seth’s laugh was hollow. “Ya think?” He shook his head again. “The words only come when the song wants to be written. This song doesn’t want to be written.”
“You sound like your grandmother, making the song a real live being. It’s not, kid. It’s just a song.”
“My grandmother was right. The songs are alive. They live in my head, growing and developing all the time. But when circumstances beyond my control stop them from growing, they freeze. This particular song is frozen. It’s not going anywhere, because you won’t let it.”
“Don’t make this about me.”
“It’s always about you, Luke. It has been since I was fifteen years old.” Seth stood with a feline grace, his lean legs closing the distance between them in six loping strides, and poked Luke in the chest. “You’ve been my dream since the Christmas you came home from school with Zachary.”
Shit, the kid and his dreams. They might have been the birth of all things Speed, but for sure, they’d be the death of Luke. Seth spent his days lost in thought, lost in all the wonderful, magical possibilities of what could be. He imagined the ideal and then set about making it a reality. It was Seth who’d sat him, Nathan and Zachary down one evening and told them it was time to stop fucking around. Time to start dreaming big. To reach for the stars. Seth who’d described his vision for Speed and looked to his brothers and Luke to make it happen.
Luke pushed his hand away firmly, conscious that his chest tingled where Seth had poked it. “I was never your dream, kid. I was just a childhood fantasy. Your big brother’s friend. The one who understood you, appreciated your unique needs. The one you could identify with. That’s all.”
“Bullshit.” Seth’s hand was back on his chest, this time holding a handful of Luke’s shirt. “Fantasies aren’t real, but dreams can always be realized, no matter how big they are. And you were my biggest dream of all. You still are.”
He’d stepped closer, and the lemony tang of his aftershave slipped into Luke’s consciousness. Seth was barely old enough to shave. No reason he should be wearing the damn stuff. Especially not when the scent made Luke hard as a rock.
Goddamn it. He was no good for Seth. No good at all. Couldn’t Seth sense that about him? Luke would
taint his dreams and sour his fantasies. He’d take all that was good about him and blacken it with his dark heart, his volatile moods and his rotten genes.
He had to let go, had to push Seth away before he hurt him emotionally and physically—just like his father had hurt his mother. And him.
“Step back, Seth. We’re not doing this now.”
Seth looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Eyes that brimmed with desire. “Not doing what, exactly?”
“Not doing the getting-naked thing. We’re talking song lyrics, that’s it.” It would help a whole hell of a lot if he actually believed what he’d just said. But he’d never stood a chance against that look of Seth’s.
He was far too pretty for his own good. With his perpetual unshaven cheeks and low-slung jeans—which covered a prime, male ass—he was, quite simply put, beautiful. And when the beautiful kid looked at Luke with his eyes at half-mast and his face an open book of intent, Luke knew he was in big trouble.
His cock stiffened, making him squirm in discomfort.
Seth read his reactions all too easily. His gaze dropped to Luke’s groin, and he smiled.
Fuck. “Okay, so apparently we’re not talking lyrics anymore.” Luke sighed. “Go to bed, Seth. It’s way past your bedtime, and you have a concert in less than…” He glanced over at the clock on the DVD player. “Eighteen hours.”
Seth’s hand dropped to Luke’s waist. He gripped his belt. “Go to bed with me, Lucas. We can realize my dreams together. We can write a whole new set of lyrics together.”
Luke tried to regulate his breathing, tried to steel himself against his persistent craving for Seth. He shook his head. “I can’t help you change the words. I can’t give you what you need. You know that.”
“That’s what you always say, and then you kiss me, and suddenly I have everything I’ve ever needed, ever wanted, pressed against my lips.” Seth looked so deeply into Luke’s eyes, it took a second for Luke to realize his fingers had moved again. Now both of his hands were on Luke’s stomach, exploring beneath his T-shirt, making their way upwards, finding his nipples.
Luke tried to keep his distance. Tried not to give in to Seth’s words or his scent or his proximity. Holy fuck, he tried. But…Jesus, Seth knew how sensitive his nipples were.
Shivers tore up his spine.
Maybe aggression would work better. It always had for his old man. A good backhand across the cheek or a fast jab to the stomach and his father got whatever he wanted. “Seth—”
Fuck! Not so easy to speak between gritted teeth. He gave up trying and shoved Seth instead. Shoved him hard.
Or he attempted to, anyway. But the second his hands found Seth, instead of shoving, they grabbed, tightening around his shoulders and hauling him closer.
Seth groaned. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Lucas.” And with that, not in the least bit intimidated by Luke’s intended roughness, he raised his head, parted his lips and melded his mouth to Luke’s.
Chapter Two
All he’d ever wanted? Jesus. Couldn’t Seth see Luke was bad for him? Couldn’t he see how Luke had to restrain himself every time Seth came near?
Didn’t he know that if Luke even once lost his temper, really lost his temper, Seth would likely wind up in the hospital?
Wasn’t it possible—?
Damn. That mouth…
It did Luke’s head in. Did his resolve in. Made every decent thought in his head vanish. Every good intention.
The way Seth’s lips clung to his, rubbing against them, created the sweetest, headiest friction. Even as Luke tried to hold himself rigid—every muscle in his body tense and ready for the flight he knew he should take—his tongue sought entry into Seth’s mouth. It slipped hungrily over Seth’s tongue, consuming him like a starved man.
Luke fought the moment, fought Seth’s advances. He growled low in his throat and tried to pull away. But when Seth and Luke came together, when their mouths tangled and their bodies touched, rejecting the passion that flared between them was nothing short of a physical impossibility.
Seth kept his lips soft and pliant, inviting and enticing, designed to draw Luke in deeper. And man, was he ever drawn in deeper. So deep, he almost lost himself to Seth’s lemony scent, to the hard cock pressing against his own erection.
All the while Seth plucked at Luke’s nipples, teasing them into hard, aching points of pain and pleasure. Seth knew exactly when to stroke them gently for maximum pleasure and when to squeeze them to the point of pain.
Seth molded his erection to the shape of Luke’s with just one sensual twist of his hips.
Luke had watched crowds of women scream hysterically when Seth twisted like that onstage. The kid knew exactly what effect the move had, and he damn well knew Luke responded as helplessly as any one of those screaming fans.
Christ, Luke wanted more. Seth’s erection bumping against his, grinding, wasn’t enough. Not even close. Not with two pairs of jeans between them. Luke was suddenly starving. Ravenous for more. He wanted nothing less than everything—starting with Seth draped over the back of the couch…
Luke growled viciously into Seth’s mouth and cupped his ass with one hand, pulling him closer, grinding harder, faster. With the other hand, he cupped Seth’s chin and forced his mouth away, breaking the kiss.
His body bucked in rebellion, wanting to see the kiss through to its natural conclusion. But there was no way he could think intelligently with Seth’s mouth on his, and right about now Luke needed to do some intelligent thinking.
“Don’t do this,” he warned. Or maybe begged.
Seth didn’t open his eyes. He just rubbed his chin up against Luke’s hand as though Luke had stroked his face, not broken a sultry kiss. “I have to do this, Lucas. You’re my now, forever and always. No matter how much you fight it. You always have been, and you always will be. Besides—” he ground his cock against Luke’s, “—you want this. As much as I do.”
Luke clenched his teeth. Seth was the only goddamned person alive who called him Lucas. “Wanting something and doing it are not the same.” If it were, he’d never let Seth out of his bed.
“They can be.” Seth looked at him. Lust had turned those baby blues a whole shade darker. They burned with a desire as fierce as Luke had ever seen. Seth rocked his hips, the natural rhythm of his movement tearing a hole through Luke’s gut. Seth could move, and when he did, it left Luke feeling like he had two left feet and a cock the size of a cannon.
“Listen, kid—”
Seth shook his head. “I’m not a kid anymore. You’ve known that for a long time now.”
Yeah, he had. Five years and counting. Every day. Even so, emphasizing their age difference helped Luke keep his relationship with Seth in perspective.
Luke shook his head, desperately trying to put obstacles between them, to get Seth to look at him differently. “I’m not your always, Seth. I never have been. You know that.”
Seth nodded. “I know you believe that. But you and I are right for each other. Perfect. And in time you’ll come to see as much.”
“You deserve better than I can give you. You deserve the best, someone who can give you everything.”
“You are the best.” Seth stroked Luke’s nipples, let the other man’s groan reverberate around the room. “No one else alive makes me burn like you do.”
“Not true,” Luke negated, seeking desperately to put anything between them. “The fire’s burned way stronger when we’ve had a third.” And they’d had plenty of thirds. Had indulged in many threesomes together. Luke had deliberately hauled in other people to maintain an emotional distance between himself and Seth.
Maybe next time he could be pickier about whom he hauled into bed…
The thought formed quickly, taking root in Luke’s mind, giving him an idea.
“That’s a sexual thing. A physical excitement. Watching you fucking someone else turns me on. Always has.” Seth’s gaze was liquid fire. “Just like you get all horny watching me with a woma
n. But you know what really makes a ménage such a winning deal for you and me?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “No matter how many other people we may fuck, when you and I are together, alone or with someone else, it’s not about fucking. It’s about making love.”
Luke shook his head, storing his idea away for further consideration at a later time. “We fuck. We mess around. That’s it. You’re reading more into it than there is.”
“Really?” Seth dipped his hand below the waistband of Luke’s jeans.
Luke almost jumped out of his skin. Seth’s hot, callused fingers stroked him, up and down his shaft, around and around, his movement restricted by the tightness of Luke’s jeans.
Fuck, he could come just like this. Could blow his load right now.
Luke clenched his teeth and counted to ten, chasing down the urge.
“You think that’s all this is?” Seth showed no mercy. He scraped his nails over Luke’s right nipple while he traced his thumb over Luke’s slit, painting the head of his cock with precome. “A fuck and a laugh? Nothing more?” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Luke’s lips. “I don’t think so, lover.”
“I do think so. An uncomplicated fuck and an easy lay. That’s all we can ever be to each other. It’s all I want from you, and it’s all I’ll ever be able to give you.” The way his balls had tightened into hard knots told him every word he uttered was a load of shit, just like they had been every time he’d uttered them before now. “If you’re on level with my way of thinking, then by all means stay, carry on doing what you’re doing, ’cause what you’re doing feels real damn good.” He sucked in a breath as Seth coaxed more precome from his dripping cock. “If you’re not, you need to take your hand out of my pants and leave.”
Seth stared at him, looked straight into his eyes, his gaze unwavering. Inch by agonizing inch, he pulled his hand away until the only things covering Luke’s erection were his boxers and jeans.
Just like that, grief slammed into Luke, wrenching his heart. Seth was leaving. Christ, he didn’t want him to go. He never wanted him to go.
He glared at Seth. The kid had to go. For his own good.