Page 14 of Street of Dreams
“Out.” Jake looked at the guy through the mirror and pointed to the door with his thumb, and the guy scurried out without saying a word. One by one, Jake pushed open each stall, banging the doors with a clang.
“What are you doing?” Mac asked, a confused crease permeating his forehead.
“What do you think I’m doing?” Jake marched across the bathroom and locked the deadbolt on the door, then walked up to Mac, who now had goosebumps covering his arms and a tingle running down his back. Mac’s pants were still open, and his shaft was poking out with a semi-hard erection at the bold actions of this man who incited both annoyance and insane attraction. Jake stood in front of Mac with less than a foot between them, glanced down at Mac’s growing length and grinned. “Happy to see me?”
Mac’s eyes dropped to his crotch, then met Jake’s with a smile. “Looks that way.”
Jake fisted Mac’s erection with one hand and clapped the other on the back of Mac’s neck. Their mouths came together with heated force and the familiar surge of adrenaline, whenever Mac was in close proximity to the elder King brother, made his heartrate skyrocket. This guy kissed with an urgency that demanded reciprocation and Mac obliged. He pressed his mouth against Jake’s with a hard rotation and probed his tongue deeper. There was so much heat and passion in the kiss that it outshined the wonderful tug on Mac’s length. Almost.
The authority emanating from Jake’s hand and the long leisurely strokes contrasted with the neediness of the kiss. There was so much pleasure going on in Mac’s body right now, he thought he might overdose. His mouth and chest were alive with new feelings of want and lust, but his lower half was on fire with a touch he only dreamed about. He succumbed to all of it and let the sensations overtake him. He clapped his hands on Jake’s neck, their mouths still attached, and exploded with a series of full-body shudders.
It was so fucking hot. Mac should have known that Jake, so full of pent up anger and frustration, would also be filled with suppressed heat and passion. They stared at each other for a hot second before Jake nodded once. Mac had no idea what it meant. Maybe it was a simple acknowledgement of the attraction they shared. Or an indication that he enjoyed what just happened. Or maybe it was a nod that meant, see ya next time. Mac hoped it was all three.
He didn’t know what to do next. Whatwasthe proper etiquette for an impromptu handjob in the bathroom? Should he offer one in return? “Do you want . . .?”
“We’re done. For now.” Jake gave Mac the onceover, and a genuine smile stretched all the way up to Jake’s eyes, the first Mac had ever seen. “I’m starting to like you, Mackenzie. See ya around.” He put his lips to Mac’s ear and whispered, “You owe me one.”
Jake washed his hands and Mac put himself back together, all without speaking. For some reason, it wasn’t awkward. Maybe because Mac was still dazed by the encounter and because Jake was too cool to be fazed by it.
As Jake passed Mac in order to toss paper towels in the trash, he grinned at Mac and winked. Then he was gone.
Mac went back to the theater in a trance. He barely remembered leaving the bathroom. One minute he was watching Jake unlock the door and walk out of the restroom. The next thing he knew, he was in his seat staring at the screen wondering how the hell he and Jake King had become fuck buddies. And he couldn’t stop wondering about when and where they’d hook up next.
Mac needed to prepare for his show on Saturday night at The Structure. It would be his first performance at a big club, and nerves had him on edge. He needed to draw a crowd and prove that he had a fan base so he could get a regular date on the calendar. Skylar had been handing out flyers like crazy, and his social media sites were blowing up, but his biggest fear was that he’d be playing to a handful of people.
With his guitar on his knee, he spent the next 45 minutes rehearsing the songs he planned to include in his set, humming the words to preserve his voice. He’d been going back and forth on whether or not to include some of his original songs, and it was causing him an undue amount of stress. He put his guitar down and paced around the small living room in his basement studio apartment. Part of him thought he should only do covers, because he needed to keep the interest of the audience, assuming he had one. But he wanted to introduce them to his music. After all, that was the main goal.
This opportunity, although relatively small by most people’s standards, was a big deal for him because it was a steppingstone toward fulfilling his dreams. He got so worked up about the possibility of actually making real money from playing music that he couldn’t sit still and decided to go for a jog in order to work off his restless energy.
He threw on sweats and a hoodie, trotted down the driveway and onto the sidewalk. There was someone walking toward him from the opposite end of the block, so he moved to the outer edge of the concrete and kept his head down and picked up speed.
“Slow down,” the person called to him.
It was Jake. He was by himself, without his brothers, walking briskly toward Mac with his hands in his pockets, wearing a hoodie instead of his leather jacket, and a backwards baseball cap.
Confused as to why Jake was walking alone, Mac slowed his pace until his feet stopped moving completely and waited for Jake to eliminate the space between them.
As the distance grew shorter, Mac saw the intensity in Jake’s expression and posture. Jake walked with his shoulders hunched forward and a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.
“What are you doing here?” Mac asked.
Jake didn’t answer or slow down. He grabbed the sleeve of Mac’s sweatshirt and pulled him down the sidewalk back toward his house.
“Hurry up before someone sees us.” Jake flicked his cigarette to the ground and looked both ways down the street, nervously.
Mac noticed that neither of his parents’ cars were in the driveway and wondered if Jake had been watching the house and waiting for them to leave.
Before the door to Mac’s apartment was fully open, Jake pushed inside and quickly shut the door behind him, away from the probing eyes of the world. Now that they were alone, the hard angles of Jake’s features relaxed, and his eyes softened to a beautiful chocolate brown. The bad-boy scowl was hot as fuck. But he was incredibly handsome with a natural curl to his lips and without the intimidating harsh glare. Every part of Mac wanted to reach out and kiss Jake, or at least touch him. Anywhere. Arm. Shoulder. Face. It didn’t matter. He was so drawn to this man that it was supernatural.
He knew Jake was here for sex, but also knew that showing up at Mac’s apartment was a huge risk for him. “Why are you here?” he asked. “If you wanted to fool around, you could have texted me to meet you somewhere.”
“Who said I’m here to fool around?” Jake displayed an innocent smile, then proceeded to walk around the apartment. He inspected Mac’s knick-knacks and rock star posters, taking in every inch of the place.
“Are you here to rob me?” Mac teased.
Jake let out a throaty laugh and fanned his hand in front of a shelf. “Why would I want any of this shit?” He paused and eyed Mac from head to toe with interest. “Maybe, I’ll just fuck you after all.”
“What makes you think I want you to fuck me?”
