Treble Maker

by Annabeth Albert

  “No.” Ashley laughed. “He’s a small deal trying hard to become a medium deal.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  “It’s way bigger than anything I’ve ever played,” Lucas said. The M&Ms didn’t get a crowd a quarter this large even for their big end-of-the-year show.

  “Places like this are fun, but it only counts if you can string together enough gigs to pay the rent.” The bitterness in Cody’s voice made him seem far older than Lucas.

  “Okay, Mr. Not-a-Big-Deal, go fetch us drinks. See if you can get mine free, too.” Ashley shooed Cody toward the bar area.

  “You okay staying with them?” Cody squeezed Lucas’s arm, the warmth of his grip rocketing straight to Lucas’s heart.

  “I’m good,” he said, and meant it. He felt a real part of the group now—and unlike when he was out with the M&Ms, he didn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing.

  “Yeah, you are.” Cody winked before sauntering away.

  He belonged on the stage, not in the drink line. Conquering rock god, working that cowboy hat and white T-shirt like all he needed was a mic to wail into.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The group crowded around the high table on one of the raised areas near the dance floor. A few guys from other groups on the show had joined them, as well as a couple of people Cody and Ashley knew from the LA scene.

  When Cody caught sight of Lucas hanging out with a bunch of folks Cody knew firsthand were players, something strange shifted around in his gut. He’d been ready to deck Snake for his pass at Lucas. He shouldn’t have been surprised—Snake, whose real name was Wayne, and who’d worked as hard as Cody had to distance himself from his hick roots—was a total hound. Wasn’t really Cody’s type, but his subby little bartender husband was. He’d played with them a couple of times when he first started hanging around the club.

  Juggling the drinks with the practice born of waiting tables in worse joints than this, he nodded hello to the newcomers.

  “Here you go.” He handed shots to Jeff, Raven, and Ashley. He smiled at Lucas, his chest tightening. “Coke for you.” He took a sip to be sure it was only soda, then handed it to him. Nemo had grumbled about the order, and the soda was heavy on the ice.

  “Thanks.”

  “Mine’s soda, too.” He held up his drink. Only after Nemo’s blond eyebrows had shot up at the drink order had Cody realized he’d ordered two sodas—and it felt right somehow, like taking care of Lucas.

  “Thanks. But I don’t mind if you drink. You know, a little.” Lucas’s slow blush was worth a rare Saturday without a buzz. He looked so awkwardly adorable that Cody pulled him close.

  “Gotta keep an eye on you.” Cody wiggled his eyebrows at Lucas. “Don’t want Snake getting any ideas.”

  “I kind of like the taste.” Lucas stretched to whisper in his ear. “On you, I mean. No desire to try it myself, but it was wicked hot kissing you when you tasted like whatever it was you had last week.”

  “Yeah?” He stored that away for later. “We’ll see.”

  Most of the table was engaged in pointless chitchat about the show. God. Didn’t they ever want a break from that crap? A number of people knew one another from years on the collegiate singing competition circuit, and it was one big gossip fest. Who was sleeping with whom. Who was hiding an eating disorder. Whose family was superloaded—apparently, Raven had gone to some uppity prep school and was six degrees of separation from people on three of the other teams and a bunch of famous people. Pointless name dropping made Cody’s teeth hurt. The only names that meant something were the ones that led to gigs and contracts. He took a swig of his drink, already wishing it had a kick to it.

  “Dance with me?” he asked Lucas. The house music was a steady beat of dance mixes that kept the floors packed. The stellar DJs they brought in were a big reason for the club’s popularity; they didn’t skimp on the music.

  “Maybe I can just watch you for a bit?” Lucas tugged on his ear.

  “Come on.” Cody held out his hand. “Don’t make me dance alone.” Truth was, if he went out there, he wouldn’t be alone for long. But he figured pointing that out to Lucas wouldn’t be smart. He was still untangling Lucas’s bundle of kinks and turn-ons, but it was a safe bet that watching Cody get groped by strange guys wasn’t on the list.

  “Thought you said no coming.” Lucas leaned in close so his words reached only Cody’s ears.

  “That I did.” He tugged Lucas out onto the dance floor.

  He still remembered the first time he’d come to a club like this—hitched a ride with some college kids up to Minneapolis. Walked into the crowd and felt like the world had shifted, his personal map recalculating to a new home. Only other time he’d felt that good was onstage. Or with Lucas. He pushed that thought away, loosening his back muscles and letting the music flow through him. The tension of the fourteen-hour days rolled off him, washed away by the throb of the music and the pulse of the bodies.

  He was partway to the trancelike high he always got from dancing when he encountered a solid wall of unmoving Lucas. He bumped hips with him, prompting an awkward shuffle from Lucas.

  “Sorry,” Lucas mumbled.

  “Don’t be.” Moving behind him, he tucked Lucas up against him, letting the rhythm flow through both of them. Boom. Just like that, his internal GPS recalculated again. This was why he’d wanted Lucas to come here tonight—he couldn’t care less if Lucas drank or partied—but he wanted to be wrapped around each other in one of his favorite places. Some dudes might have a beach or pretty overlook they liked to share. He had music and clubs like this one, and sharing it, feeling Lucas relax into the experience, made his insides all warm and goopy.

  “It’s not like I thought.”

  “Thought you’d hate it?” He tried to keep his voice light.

  “Not exactly. I just . . . built it all up in my head, you know? Like it would be this huge deal.” Lucas’s feet finally figured out what to do, and he swayed against Cody.

  “Yeah.” He wasn’t going to bust Lucas’s bubble, but he was pretty sure sex was the same way—you built up this idea that doing it would change you, make you a different person somehow. Make the person you were with love you more. But in the end, you were still you, no more orgasmic rush than jerking off, same closeted asshole next to you, same stupid town, only stickier and sore in weird places.

  Tightening his arms around Lucas, he soaked up some of his warmth. His chest felt cold, even with Lucas’s back pressed against him. He hoped like hell that didn’t happen to him. Lucas deserved reality-shaking fucking—the earth-moving and violins-swelling sex that only happened in chick flicks. For the first time, he wasn’t sure he could be the one—didn’t want that responsibility. It was one thing to drag him to a club, watch his eyes go wide, feel him relax into the awesomeness of being able to dance together, show him the benefits of showing off. But devirginizing him? Cody didn’t write love songs, and he sure as fuck didn’t know the pretty lines someone like Lucas deserved to hear.

  He caught one dude with a blond buzz cut and white jeans eyeing Lucas’s strong arms and wide chest before looking Cody over then eye-fucking Lucas again.

  Yep, all this is mine. All those jealous glances went straight to his dick. Felt even better than getting cruised himself. He’d never been to a club with a guy he really cared about. When they were getting dressed, he’d wanted to rip the tight shirt off Lucas and tackle him to the bed. Lucas looking all fuckable was a nice little bonus. A buzz not unlike a tequila shot raced through him. Leaning in, he bit Lucas on the neck, tasting salt and skin and the unique Lucas flavor he couldn’t seem to get enough of.

  Dancers crowded around them, but it felt like they were back in the practice room, only the two of them. Strobe lights from the stage sliced over the crowd, giving the otherwise dim space a futuristic glow. Sliding his hand in Lucas’s front pocket, he stroked Lucas’s dick through the cotton.

  “Umm. Should you be—” Lucas’s head fell b
ack against Cody’s shoulder. His dick pulsed against Cody’s palm, heavy and hard.

  “Yes.” Cody cut him off with a kiss, swallowing Lucas’s protest and keeping it up until Lucas sagged against him. His hair tickled Cody’s face, smelling like Cody’s shampoo, and damn if that didn’t get him harder.

  One song bled into another as they swayed together, strobe lights cutting weird shadows across them. He gave up trying to adjust his vision to the lights and closed his eyes, further intensifying the floaty feeling. Around them conversations swirled and glasses clinked, but all his senses were zeroed in on Lucas.

  He kept up a steady pressure on Lucas’s dick—enough to keep him hard, not enough to get him off. He measured his actions by the speed of Lucas’s breathing and the way his rhythm would falter when he got all worked up. When Lucas rocked his hips, pushing against Cody’s hand, Cody backed off, his hand sliding out of the pocket to grope Lucas’s stomach, feeling the flex of his muscles under the smooth fabric. His own dick ached, but in the best possible way.

  “You . . . want . . . to kill me.”

  “Nah.” He sucked the skin behind Lucas’s ear, feeling Lucas’s shudder vibrate through him. “Wouldn’t be much use to me dead.”

  “Can we go?” Lucas’s needy whine made Cody grin.

  “No. You only want to go because you can’t wait to get off.” He slid a hand around to squeeze Lucas’s ass.

  Lucas moaned. Forget working Lucas up—Cody’s own blood hummed and his brain cells were rapidly dwindling.

  “And you don’t get to come. Not until I say.” Cody snuck his free hand back into Lucas’s pocket. He couldn’t play like he wanted because of the tight fit, but he squeezed the firm shaft.

  “Mmm.” Lucas’s moan was a warm rumble along Cody’s torso.

  “I’m getting thirsty. You might want to get it under control before we go back over to the group.” Lips pressed against Lucas’s ear, he rubbed his dick, ensuring Lucas couldn’t comply.

  “Screw them.” Lucas’s voice was a low growl.

  “Oh?” Cody’s grin stretched his face tight. “Want more of this?”

  “Might fall off soon.” Lucas rocked his hips, bumping Cody’s hand. But Cody kept his touch light, mimicking the smooth pulse of the soft dance mix washing over them.

  “Poor baby.” Unable to resist making him tremble again, he sucked on Lucas’s neck, right below the collar of his shirt. “I should take you to this place over on Vine. They’ve got this back area—long dark hallway really. Bet I could make you beg me to take you there.”

  “Yeah?” Lucas reached back, squeezing Cody’s thigh. “They got a long dark hallway here?”

  Cody laughed and ruffled Lucas’s hair, ruining all his careful work. Someone jostled them from the side, the dance floor getting more crowded, but he didn’t care. It still felt like their own island, one he didn’t want to leave even as his throat demanded a drink.

  “Got you that worked up, huh?” He kissed him again, long and slow. “They’ve got some dark corners and an alley out back.”

  “Yeah?” Lucas’s question was a warm huff against Cody’s neck, sending electricity zooming down his spine.

  “Yeah.” He cursed himself for promising Lucas no public sex. Dick aching, he ground his hips harder into Lucas’s ass. It had been years since he’d come from nothing more than grinding on a dance floor, but he was damn close. “Too bad you’re not into that. I’d take you back there.”

  “Yeah.” Lucas’s breath was even shakier now.

  “You’d let me suck you, wouldn’t you?” Cody shifted until his palm rested against the tip of Lucas’s dick, feeling the damp even through the layers of cloth. “Outside, door to the club a few feet away. Other guys getting it on nearby.”

  Cody wasn’t usually the one on his knees in the club scene. But for Lucas? Oh yeah. His bones couldn’t fucking wait to feel the cold cement.

  “Maybe—” Lucas stuttered as Cody rubbed hard on his tip. “Yes. Please. Anything to come.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t let you come.” Cody laughed, loving how tense Lucas’s shoulders got. “I’d just suck you. Wait till you were right there. Then zip you up. Make you wait some more.”

  “Nuh.” Lucas made an inhuman sound that vibrated through his whole body. Cody caught the warning tremor and whipped his hand away.

  “No you don’t. No coming.”

  “Fuck. You.” Lucas’s words sounded like the swing of a rusty gate, squeaky and not used much.

  Cody laughed and kissed him full on the mouth. Reducing Lucas to cursing? Absolute win.

  Lucas always thought hell lived in places like this. And he’d been right. But instead of the hotbed of sin and disease sharing he’d imagined, it was a slow death by Cody’s devilish hands and dirty mouth.

  And he loved it.

  Loved all of it. Loved the way Cody eased up on the making out during a really good drum solo so Lucas could applaud. Loved the dirty whispers in his ear. Loved Cody’s hands roaming all over his body. Loved the way Cody stared down anyone who danced too close. The way Cody took care of him made Lucas feel all warm and gooey, like he’d turned into a giant chocolate chip cookie. Cody drank soda along with him all night, tasting Lucas’s first to make sure it was okay.

  “Are you really not drinking?” Ashley sounded whinier than usual. They’d ended up back over at the table in a break between sets.

  “Nah.” Cody raised his glass at her. “Letting you do all my drinking.”

  “You can,” Lucas whispered, leaning against Cody. A two-hour erection had him plenty bold enough to whisper what he wanted in Cody’s ear. “I want to taste it when you take me home.”

  “You’re just trying to get me to leave sooner.” Cody pinched his ass before nodding at Ashley, who slid him a shot glass filled with amber liquid. What Lucas really wanted was for Ashley to leave so he could get Cody’s hand on his dick again. And what he really, really wanted was to come—and he was getting less picky about where by the minute. Whatever little games he’d played in his head before while jerking off, nothing came close to the reality of Cody teasing him like this. Every dirty thought he’d had in his tiny dorm room brought to high-def Hollywood reality.

  “We’re out of here.” A decidedly tipsy Raven and Jeff showed up at the table, Jeff looking worse for the wear, with a sweaty head and bleary eyes.

  “I was supposed to stay sober enough to drive. Ooops.” Dangling keys off one finger, Raven giggled, making the keys jingle. “Anyone sober enough to drive?”

  “Yes.” Lucas spoke before Cody could.

  “Eager much?” Cody’s laugh ruffled Lucas’s hair. He leaned in, whispering, “You’re still not coming until I say.”

  “Uh-huh.” Lucas nodded.

  “You gonna do what I say?”

  “Yes.” Lucas didn’t have to think about it. Somehow he knew Cody wouldn’t push him for more than he was willing to give. For all they’d fooled around in the last week, neither of them had mentioned full-on sex.

  “I can drive,” he said, raising his voice for Raven and Jeff. Next to him, Cody snorted and raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s a stick.” Raven held out the keys. “Can you handle that?”

  Cody laughed with the sort of unbridled glee Lucas usually saved for SNL skits.

  Shooting him a shut-your-dirty-mind look, Lucas accepted the keys. “I learned on a stick.”

  “I bet you did.” Not getting the hint to shut up, Cody chuckled before slamming back his shot, the smooth muscles of his throat rippling.

  “Lead the way.”

  Cody mostly behaved himself on the ride back to the hotel. After all, he didn’t want Lucas wrecking Raven’s BMW. Everyone should be so lucky as to get Daddy’s cast-off Beamer as a graduation gift. And Cody deserved congratulations for not rolling his eyes at Raven’s drunken apology for the car’s “mess.” She’d recoil in horror from Cody’s van, which showed every one of its twenty years and was jammed full of Cody’s crap.


  She and Jeff got all snuggly in the backseat, while Lucas navigated through the LA traffic, easily following Cody’s directions. Cody slunk lower in his seat. Watching Lucas drive, he was both turned-on and a little bit irked. Angry desire made his dick hurt and his stomach tense. While he doubted Lucas had gotten a fifty-thousand-dollar car as a graduation gift like Raven, he’d bet money Lucas had learned to drive from his dad, probably in something wholesome like a truck. Cody had learned to drive in Mr. Miller’s ancient Saturn, Grandma in the backseat like a nervous pigeon. The lessons had ended abruptly when he’d come out. Cody’s first few years in LA had been spent cursing the shitty public transit until he’d scraped together enough for the van.

  “You better not be getting a big head,” he grumbled. Cody’s happy buzz from the club was long gone. The shot of tequila hadn’t been nearly as powerful as the high from dancing with Lucas, but both had fled in the wake of bad memories.

  “What?” Lucas grinned, obviously enjoying the chance to play with the pricey car. He parked in the long-term lot behind the hotel.

  Cody knew exactly what he wanted to do with that cocky attitude. He returned Lucas’s grin with a smirk and raised eyebrows before they all piled out of the car’s luxe confines.

  “I think I should drive more often,” Lucas said, patting the Beamer’s shiny paint. He tossed Raven the keys with a flourish and Raven giggled.

  Jeff said, “Yep, there’s a lot to be said for getting behind the wheel of a smooth ride.” He tugged on Raven’s hand, and they headed toward the rear entrance of the hotel.

  “You forgetting your promise?” Crowding Lucas against the car door, Cody ran a thumb down Lucas’s jaw.

  “Nope.” Lucas’s smile retreated, replaced by a nervous twitch of his lips and heat in his eyes.

  “Good.” Cody kissed him, his hands rough on his shoulders, his mouth reminding Lucas exactly who was driving this show. He hoped the tequila had left enough of a taste to turn Lucas on. The way Lucas moaned against Cody’s lips and clutched at his chest said that he was plenty revved up. Sucking on his tongue, Cody rocked his hips against Lucas’s. Arousal came clawing back, his dick reminding him that he’d spent two hours teasing Lucas—and himself.