Running with Scissors (22 page)

stupid shit, a guy like you still has his head together. That’s . . .

I mean, I admire that. I’m a hothead. Connor’s a hothead. Put

us together and we’re a hot mess.” He brought A.J.’s hand up

and kissed his fingers. “But yeah, you’re right—you shouldn’t

have to be the adult all the time.”

“Shouldn’t. But . . .” A.J. shrugged. “There it is.”

Jude studied him. Then he draped his arm over A.J.’s chest

and leaned in to kiss him. “Well, feel free to let this A.J. come out whenever you want to.”

A.J. flashed him a toothy grin. “Careful what you wish

for. Someone might get hurt.” He snapped his teeth, and

when Jude jumped, they both laughed.

“I can handle a few scratches.” Jude kissed him again gently

and then settled back onto his elbow. “You’re a handful, but I

like it that way.”

169

“Just don’t tell the rest of the band.”

“That you’re a handful? Or . . .” He hesitated. Their eyes

met, and they both tensed. “Right. They don’t need to know

about any of this.”

“No. Definitely not.”

Silence descended, and it threatened to get awkward, so

Jude quickly cleared his throat. “So what does ‘A.J.’ stand for, anyway?”

A.J. groaned. “It stands for ‘my dad’s a hard-core rock fan

who didn’t stop to think about how naming his kid “Axl”

might make middle school a living hell.’”

Jude snorted. “Are you serious?”

“Yep. I thought about going by James, which is my middle

name, but that’s also my dad’s first name. And I just didn’t feel like answering to the same thing as some guy who’d give his

kid a name like mine.”

Jude was curious, but wanted to tread carefully. “Am I to

assume you and your dad don’t have a great relationship?”

“No, no. We have a good one. I just don’t think he quite

thought it through when he came up with my name.” A.J.

shrugged. “And as for going with A.J.: both of my names came

from someone else, and I guess . . . I don’t know. I wanted my

own name.”

“Your own identity?”

A.J. nodded.

“So, if your dad’s that into rock, he must be especially

proud of you being a musician.”

“There was no avoiding music in my family, but yeah,

he was pretty happy that one of us decided to go this way.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “How many people do you run

into in this business who say their parents wanted them to go

this route?”

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“Not many.”

A.J. sobered, avoiding his gaze. “He probably thinks the

joke’s on him. I became a musician and got involved in

the kind of music he’d always dreamed about, and I fucking

made it, but had to wreck it all by being gay.”

Jude exhaled. “Seriously? They have a problem with that?”

“Yep.”

Jude rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake. It isn’t the 1950s

anymore.”

“Tell me about it. I mean, he’s gotten better about it, and

we still get along, but he definitely wishes I was straight.”

“Ironic. My parents never batted an eye over me being

gay, but I doubt they’ll ever forgive me for going into rock

instead of becoming a proper musician.”

Their eyes met, and A.J. laughed quietly as he slipped his

hand into Jude’s. “It is ironic, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.” They held each other’s gazes, and that

uncomfortable silence elbowed its way back in. They could

make small talk and snark about backward parents all they

wanted, but reality was still there, waiting for them to stop

and acknowledge it.

A.J. swallowed. “We’re being idiots, aren’t we?”

“Probably.”

A.J. shifted, and his hair fell onto his forehead, casting

one of his eyes into shadow. Jude ran his fingers through the

disheveled hair, smoothing it out of the way so he could see

A.J.’s face.

“We really shouldn’t do this,” he said. “I know we shouldn’t

do this. But damn . . . I really, really want to.” He paused. “The last time I dated someone in the band, it fucked everything

up. And I’m scared to death that’s going to happen again. It

could ruin everything for us, and for the rest of the band.” 171

“Yeah, I know. It’s a huge risk, and it’s probably a stupid

thing to even think about.” A.J. brought Jude’s hand up

and pressed a soft kiss on his palm. “But every time I look

at you . . .”

His eyes flicked up.

Jude swallowed.

Then A.J. moved in, and when their lips met, Jude’s skin

tingled, as if every place they’d touched earlier was a cooled

ember suddenly glowing back to life. As they pulled each

other closer, letting a languid kiss go on and on, A.J.’s cock

brushed Jude’s thigh. They were both quickly getting hard

again, but A.J. didn’t seem to be in any hurry, and Jude sure as hell wasn’t.

Of all the things he’d missed about having a partner, this

was one of the biggest—just lying in bed, making out and

touching in no rush at al , even when they were still in that

early stage when sex with each other was a shiny novelty.

There’d be time for that. For now, they just held each other

and kissed, and even the guilty knot in Jude’s stomach couldn’t take away from how right and perfect this felt.

Fingertips skated over skin. Lips and tongues moved

together like they’d long ago memorized every nuance of each

other. Body heat mingled with body heat until they were both

getting too hot, so they kicked the sheet out of the way and

then kept making out without missing a single beat.

A.J. touched his forehead to Jude’s. “I want to fuck you

again,” he breathed. “Slower this time.”

Jude shivered. “Please do.”

“Turn over.” A.J. kissed him lightly and then reached for

the condoms. “I want you on your stomach.”

Jude’s body was already obeying before his mind had

caught up. A.J. put on the condom and lube, arranged himself

172

over Jude, and they both sighed as A.J. slid into him. Though

they’d already fucked once, he was careful, inching his way in

until his hips met Jude’s ass.

And God, he wasn’t kidding about fucking him slowly.

Every stroke took forever, especially when he was sliding in.

Jude curled his fingers over the edge of the mattress and

pressed his forehead into the sheet. A.J. felt so damned good,

but Jude was losing it. He wanted to be fucked. Hard. Deep.

Until there was no doubt in his mind he’d still feel this a week from now.

“F-faster.”

A.J. chuckled, and he sounded . . . almost sadistic. “Faster?

Don’t you like this?”

“Yes, I—” Jude shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut. “But I

want . . . I want you to . . .”

A.J. slowed his hips, taking his sweet goddamned time

sliding back in.

Jude cursed. “How do you have . . . that much . . .” He

shivered. “
Control
?”

A.J. laughed, his warm breath giving Jude goose bumps all

the way down to his toes.

“How do I have this much control?” A.J. leaned down,

wrapped his arm around Jude’s waist, and kissed the side of his neck. “It’s easy when the reward is hearing you
lose
control.”

“Fucking sadist.”

A.J. laughed, his breath hot on Jude’s skin, and whispered,

“Not a sadist. Just like watching you squirm.” He slid all the

way in and stopped. “Unless you want to stop and argue

semantics?”

“You son of a . . .” Jude trailed off into a growl and rocked

beneath A.J., trying to encourage him into motion. “Fuck me,

damn it.”

173

He fully expected another quiet denial, but instead, A.J.

pulled out and
slammed
back into him. Jude cried out with a mix of surprise, pain, and pleasure, and A.J. did it again. He

fucked him harder, faster, exactly the way Jude wanted him to,

and Jude clawed at the bed to anchor himself.

“Oh God,” he moaned. “So good. So . . .”

“You feel amazing,” A.J. slurred. His teeth grazed Jude’s

shoulder. “Fucking . . .” He trailed off into a moan. Teeth

brushed skin again, making Jude shiver, and then A.J. bit

down in the same moment he thrust, and Jude would’ve

col apsed if he hadn’t already been on his stomach. A.J. thrust again, and Jude moaned as he crossed that point of no return,

and he was at the mercy of A.J. and a second powerful orgasm.

A.J.’s chin scraped across Jude’s shoulder, and then came

teeth again, and he bit down even harder, driving a whimper

out of Jude. A.J. grunted as his hips jerked and his cock pulsed.

With a long sigh, A.J.’s whole body went slack. Jude’s

fingers loosened on the edge of the mattress.

A.J. pulled out but didn’t move. “You’re more than

welcome to stay tonight.” He kissed the back of Jude’s

shoulder where he’d bitten him a moment ago. “I’ve got

plenty of condoms left.”

Stay tonight? Plenty of condoms left?

Good God. This guy was going to be the death of him.

Oh well. What a way to go.

“Don’t think I’m going anywhere.”

A.J. laughed and kissed the side of his neck. “Mission

accomplished. I’ll be right back.”

Jude still didn’t move. A.J. got up and rustled around

beside the bed—taking the condom off, probably—before

col apsing beside him.

174

A shower was in order, but Jude wasn’t even sure he

remembered all the intricate motions required to stand up,

and anyway, that assumed he still had bones. Right now, that

was debatable. Good thing he had an invitation to stay the

night, because he didn’t trust himself to walk out to the car,

never mind drive himself home.

Note to self—sex with A.J. requires a designated driver.

Despite his limbs suddenly being made out of chewing

gum, he turned onto his side. As they faced each other on the

narrow mattress, he gnawed his lip. “So what happens next?”

A.J. swallowed hard. “What happens next? I’ll let you

know tomorrow if I’m still breathing.”

“That’s . . .” All the air rushed out of Jude’s lungs. He

hesitated but then reached for A.J., and when his fingertips

landed on A.J.’s waist, he found his breath again. They drew

each other back in, closing the unnerving distance they’d put

between them, and just before their lips met Jude said, “That’s good enough for me.”

This was so fucking stupid. There was way too much at

stake, way too many ways this could blow up in their faces in

spectacular fashion.

But lying here with A.J.’s sweat on his skin, kissing lazily

while a bite still throbbed on his shoulder and the aftershocks of his orgasm still tingled along his spine . . .

We’re doing this, aren’t we?

A.J. met his gaze, eyelids heavy and a sleepy smile on

his lips.

Oh yeah. We’re doing this.

175

linging to his coffee cup, A.J. winced and swore as

c he got out of his car in the recording studio parking

lot. He was exhausted, dragging his feet and struggling to

keep his eyes open, and sore in places he’d forgotten he had.

How many times had they fucked last night? Hell, he didn’t

know. They’d made a valiant effort at sleeping so they’d be

refreshed and presentable today, but that hadn’t lasted long.

By the time he had fully woken up in the middle of the night,

he was already tangled up with Jude, kissing and rubbing

and hard. Neither of them had come, and they’d drifted off

again eventually, but they’d sleepily fooled around a few

more times after that. Or maybe he’d dreamed it. He had

no idea.

His legs and back ached as he walked toward the gleaming

building. If he was this sore, he could only imagine how

Jude felt. They hadn’t even been able to finish the last round

because, as Jude had put it, the spirit was willing, but the body was weak.

Well, he’d find out in a moment if Jude was still in one

piece. Jude had left his apartment to change clothes at home,

and they’d agreed to arrive separately. A.J. had been afraid

176

to even park beside Jude’s car, as if that might somehow tip

everyone else off about last night’s “sleeping” arrangements.

At the door, he paused to twist a crick out of his back.

This was going to be one long rehearsal. Good thing they

weren’t recording yet. And a damn good thing they weren’t

performing.

He took a deep swallow of coffee, then continued into the

building.

As he stepped off the elevator on the third floor, his heart

dropped into his feet. He was still four doors down from

where the band would be rehearsing, and he could already

hear shouting. Perfect way to start the day.

“Christ,” he muttered into his coffee cup. “What now?”

As he neared the open door, the shouting became actual

words instead of indistinct, angry noise.

“If it’s not a fucking priority, then just say so,” Connor

snarled.

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Jude threw back. “And

it’s not just my schedule that’s the problem. You and Kristy

have booked all of us within an inch of our lives after we’ve all been out on the road, so—”

“You weren’t even on the road with us that long!”

Connor’s sharp sigh was audible even from out in the hal .

“What the hell do you have to bitch about?”