Page 39 of Dedicated
I loved getting him off—watching his face contort, listening to him groan and curse while I stroked him to orgasm in the basement, up against the kitchen counter, in the hallway one time just because he’d aimed a cocky grin at me when I passed him on the way to the fridge. Last night I’d finally blown him. I’d attacked him while he was sitting on the couch off the living room checking our stats, as usual. I’d pushed the laptop off his thighs and started yanking his shorts down.
“You’ve got a problem, man,”he’d said, even as he writhed under my touch.
“Yeah. I’m stuck in a cabin with a guy with a hot dick. I’m miserable.”
He laughed and then stopped as soon as my fist closed around him.“Fuck,”he groaned, hips rocking into my hand. He threw his head back as I pumped him hard and slow the way he liked it, my lower lip caught between my teeth in concentration, when I realized he was staring intently at me through slitted eyes.
“What?”
“Your mouth.”
My hand slowed.“What about it.”
“I want it on me.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I swallowed him so fucking fast I think it caught him by surprise. He cried out at the wet heat and suction and twisted on the couch until I pinned his hips down to keep him still. Then he watched me hungrily as I lapped at his cock, groaning when I let his tip slip free and slap wetly against my chin before rubbing my lips over his head. I loved having him at my mercy. So often I felt like I was at his, but when I was getting him off, he was wholly, desperately mine to torture. And I took advantage of every second of it. He glided like satin in my mouth, and he didn’t last long. One deep, hard suck and he filled the back of my throat, his thighs twitching in time to the spasms of his cock. And then we’d eaten dinner like nothing had happened and gone back down to the basement to hammer on the album some more. It was the weirdest non-relationship I’d ever been in. And, I guess, technically the only one. But fuck if I was going to be the one to burst our little pleasure bubble.
Evan slidinto the passenger seat smelling shower fresh, dark blond hair slicked back from his face. I keyed in the address Maize had given me into my phone and pulled onto the street. Evan’s phone rang and he tipped it toward me to show our manager’s name flashing on the screen, then hit the screen to put the call on speaker.
“What’s up?” he greeted Byron.
“Les with you?”
“Right next to me.”
“How cozy.” Byron chuckled.
“We’re in the car, asshole.”
He grunted, then said, “Dan called me asking about a secret show at Grim’s.”
“Huh?”
I winced. Dan had mentioned the possibility of doing a show when I was last in his shop, but I’d neglected to tell Evan because I didn’t think anything would come of it since we were supposed to be laying low and I wasn’t sure how serious Dan was anyway.
“Said he mentioned it to Les.”
Evan shot me an accusing look.
“I didn’t think Evan would want to do it,” I said, ignoring Evan as he tried to burn a hole through me with his gaze.
“You didn’t ask me, tool.”
He’d balked at doing anything more than required publicity, so how the fuck was I to know? “Well,doyou?” I glanced over at him, searching his face for any evidence of interest in performing off the cuff. I’d be down, because I always was.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you think?” I asked Byron.
“I think it’d be a good move, get you guys out there but in the more controlled setting Dan could provide. Try out some of the new stuff. As long as you can keep your hands from each other’s throats.” If only he knew. Evan must have been thinking along the same lines because he barked out a laugh.
“We’ll think about it and get back to you,” he said.
Before Evan could even get started after he hung up with Byron, I was on it. “You made it clear you wanted to do the minimum amount of publicity.”
“You could’ve at least asked.”
I stared at him, trying to gauge whether or not he was really mad. He looked… irritated. But not angry. He massaged the space between his brows with the knuckle of his thumb. Yeah, irritated. Angry would set his jaw harder. He was considering it. Who would’ve guessed?