Page 73 of Counterpoint
Adrian slowly unwound the rope from Dom’s body, so carefully, so reverently, it felt like worship, and in the end, all Dom wanted to do was melt into the mattress. He wasn’t even hard anymore.
“That was amazing,” he whispered when Adrian covered him with a light blanket, then lay down next to him under it, naked, as well.
“Yes, it was.” Adrian kissed the tip of Dom’s nose. “I set an alarm for later. Enough time to make you dinner before you need to go home.”
“Wish I didn’t have to.” The truth slipped out.
A small sigh. “But you do. You have a whole other life out there, and I know you love it. I’ll never keep you from it.”
Dom buried his face in the crook of Adrian’s neck. He was in love with this man. He trusted this man.
He needed to tell Adrian about the band.
Not yet, his brain whispered.Not tonight. Later.
Yeah. Because if he opened his mouth now, he might ruin the night he’d just had—that they both had just had. But he could saysomething.
“I love you, too.”
Adrian’s breath caught, and he wrapped his arms around Dom—bonds that Dom loved more than rope. More than anything else.
He needed Adrian as much as he needed Twisted Wishes.
Chapter Fourteen
Dom brought all the clothing and makeup to become Domino when he went to the studio on Monday. He should have gotten up early. Hell, he’d gone to bed as soon has he’d gotten home from Adrian’s and slept through the night. He could have.
But his heart hadn’t been in it. Because reality had come crashing back down on Dom the moment he’d cracked his eyes open in his empty room in his empty house.
He’d told Adrian that he loved him. He was in love with Adrian Doran.
That should have been a happy realization, but as he stared up at his white ceiling, all he could think about was stepping out onstage as Dominic, not Domino.
And that filled him with terror.
His heart pounded against his rib cage and he kept coming back to that vision of everyone discovering that Domino wasn’t a rock god at all but a nerd under all that leather and makeup. Ray might think he was the best guitarist, but that couldn’t be right.
Except Ray didn’t lie about shit like that.
Dom buried his head under the pillow, and fought against the throbbing in his head and the bitter taste in his mouth.
He’d remained in bed far past when he should have gotten up to sneak out as Domino as he tried to talk his panicked mind out of the spinning and spinning it’d gotten itself into. Except that wasn’t really working too well this morning. His brain wouldn’t shut up.
So he’d thrown all of Domino’s things in a duffel and slinked into the studio about a half hour late. He waited for Ray to give him crap, but his best friend’s eyes only widened as he slumped down into his seat.
Zavier, as usual, said nothing, but very loudly.
“Hon, are you all right?” Mish took the duffel from his shoulder and pulled him into her arms.
Damn it, he was not going to cry, he was not going to—and then he was, weeping into Mish’s shoulder.
She crooned at him. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”
“It’s a panic attack,” he murmured. “Just a panic attack. I need...” Air. He took a breath and let Mish guide him to a chair. His panic wormed its way through his body, setting his heart on triple time, shaking his hands.
Fuck, he needed this to stop. It had been a while, and there was no reason for it. None.
Except being caught between Domino and Dominic and needing to be both people at the same time. Wanting to bring Adrian into this side of his life, but being too terrified to do it.
