Page 9 of Mr. Naughty List

“Everything okay?”

“Tonight didn’t turn out like I’d planned, that’s all.”

“Typical of a Tinder date, I guess.” RJ shrugged.

“Grindr, more like,” Aaron said, taking a gamble. A flush chased through him as he reached for his glass and downed the last drops of his whiskey.

Silence held for a few beats, save for the pop music from the ice-skating ring and the beat of the dance music in the pub behind them.

“Yeah. I’m more of a Grindr man, myself,” RJ finally said, meeting Aaron’s gaze with a challenge.

Aaron had known. Of course he had. He’d known deep down as soon as he’d seen RJ sitting at the table, he’d known by the way RJ had kicked out the chair and looked up at him with heated eyes. RJ was gay and wanted him.

Still, his heart raced, and his palms went damp despite the cold.

Was this happening? Was he really going to do this?

Oh God, those questions always preceded his hottest, most reckless fucks. His dick thickened in his pants. His nipples ached.

RJ said, “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve met some nice guys on Tinder.” He huffed a laugh. “The truly nice kind, I mean. Men who are always looking for more than I’m prepared to give.”

It was Aaron’s turn to chuckle. “Oh? Is that how you are? You like to hook up and then…what? Hit the road again?” He smirked. “Go to Finland mid-January with some band?”

“Something like that.”

Aaron licked his lips and tilted his head.

That’s good. That could be…perfect.

Gathering bravery to him like sticks to burn, he leaned forward. “Your ID said you’re twenty-four now.” He swallowed thickly. “I’m twenty-eight. Just another two years and I’m thirty. Ancient in gay years.”

“You’re still hot.” RJ met his gaze head on, warm and knowing. He was no child. He clearly understood exactly what Aaron was getting at now, and he wasn’t running from it.

Aaron stared at him a moment longer. “I hadn’t thought about you in years until I saw you on the stage earlier tonight. Something about you up there…” He groaned softly.

“I know.”

Another laugh punched through Aaron.

“I have stage presence.” RJ shrugged. “It’s a problem sometimes with the front men I tour with. They think I pull too much attention.” He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” RJ smirked. “For what it’s worth, I’ve thought aboutyoua lot over the years. Found your Facebook, your Instagram.” He appraised Aaron again with a long, slow, up and down that made Aaron’s insides turn to goo. “Your cat’s pretty cute. So are you.”

Aaron stared at him, his palms sweating, filled with desire and hesitation. What was he doing? He knew better. This man was a former student. He couldn’t afford another Coach McAllister situation.

But…fuck, his cock was hard, and his asshole was hungry. He had a strange feeling that RJ Blitz really knew how to fuck. Rough, and strong, and right. With a creamy ending, like that French pastry he’d mentioned, the one he’d eaten during a beautiful sunrise in Paris. If RJ ate ass with half as much enjoyment…

Aaron shivered and licked his lips. “So, what you’re saying is it’d be a dream come true for you, then?” His heart shot off wildly. He didn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous picking someone up. Had he ever?

RJ’s eyes widened, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “Yeah. You could say that. You’ve been a long-time fantasy of mine.”

“My place is just up the street.” Aaron rashly threw his gathered-up courage onto the fire of lust. “Why don’t you walk me home?” He took a deep breath.In for a penny…“You can tell me everything you’ve ever imagined doing to me.”

RJ almost knocked over his chair standing up, all coltish, raw eagerness. He lost it again immediately, though. Suave smoothness replaced the lapse. His eyes went dark as he stripped off Aaron’s small sports coat and handed it back to him. “Let’s go.”

Aaron stood more slowly, sliding the jacket back on, shuddering at the delicious body heat RJ had left behind. Then RJ put his hand out for Aaron’s, and when he put his fingers against RJ’s palm, excitement shot up his spine. RJ’s hand was bigger and more calloused than Aaron had expected. Guitar strings left their mark.