Page 57 of Counterpoint
Friday during one of their breaks at practice—he’d slipped into the studio sans Domino again—Zavier joined him by the window. “Your gentleman friend is, by all accounts, a very decent man.”
Dom chuckled and stared out the window. “I could have told you that.”
Zavier gripped him on the shoulder, and Dom turned to meet his gaze. “You did. But you’re also somewhat biased.”
Dom swallowed, the previous night’s musings rushing back in. “I don’t even know if I should be seeing the dude.”
The comforting hand shook his shoulder. “Dom. You’re allowed to be happy. And I think you are. This dude—he gives you something you aren’t getting here.” Zavier nodded at their instruments and the studio. “Even as happy as the band makes you, too.”
Dom pulled away. “I don’t think Adrian would be interested in Domino Grinder. And more often than not, that’s who I am.”
Zavier was quiet for a time, then sighed. “I have no head for romantic entanglement, but I know people and I know connections and I know kink.” He tipped his head and studied Dom. “I’d be willing to bet just about any amount of money that the man Adrian Doran wants is the same one standing in front of me.”
That was absurd. “You’d lose.”
“I’d win.” Zavier’s grin fell away. “Life’s short, Dom. And fragile and unexpected. Don’t throw this away without thought.”
Dom studied Zavier and those serious blue eyes, then his gaze drifted across the studio to Ray. Zavier—and he and Mish—had nearly lost Ray last year. Sometimes the images of Ray struggling to breathe, of the chaos of the work to save his life, still haunted Dom, and he wondered if Zavier had nightmares, too.
Yeah. He probably did. Of all of them besides Ray, that night had impacted Zavier the most.
“I’m not going to lose.” Zavier’s eyes flickered, and he patted Dom’s shoulder before heading back toward his drum kit.
Dom wouldn’t throw anything away without thought, even if he wasn’t sure whichthisZav had referred to. But he was gonna have to throw something in the end, once he figured out who the hell he really was.
That was the thought that stayed with him, even as he headed toward Wall Street and the building where Adrian worked on Friday, a duffel of clothes and toiletries slung over his shoulder. He’d always been able to balance the two disparate halves of his life, mostly by hiding Dominic and letting Domino take the stage, literally. The man he was now, wearing a button-down and bowtie? That was for little snippets of time when he wanted to snag a fuck—or just be left alone. That’s probably why no one had ever figured out who Domino was—Dominic wasn’t around all that much. But now he was.
Adrian wasn’t a fuck, though, and Dom didn’t want to be alone. Not now, not this weekend. He wanted to forget all about Domino Grinder and just be the man Adrian wanted. But who was that guy? Maybe that’s what he needed to find out.
Because Dominic Bradley hadn’t really been himself since college, and even then, Domino had existed, had cried out for his time, for the stage and the lights and the music.
Yeah, he wasfucked. Dom stopped walking. This wasn’t going to work. He should—
“Dominic!”
Adrian’s bright voice slammed into Dom, and he turned toward it, wanting, needed to see. Oh, and yes. He wanted the relationship, too.Shit.
Adrian wore a light gray suit and a light pink shirt. His tie was purple and charcoal, and his hair shone red in the summer sun, as if the light had stripped away the brown to reveal the ginger beneath. He was fucking gorgeous. And that smile—it was for Dominic. Forhim.
The duffel slid off Dom’s shoulder when Adrian drew close, and he couldn’t help wrapping his arms around him. Adrian stiffened momentarily, then moved to tip Dom’s head up.
The kiss was blinding. It wasn’t erotic or lurid or even that long. Just a sweet touch of lips, a hint of tongue, and the happiest damn sigh Dom had ever heard.
“And here I was wondering if you’d missed me,” Adrian murmured. He pulled back, opening a more appropriate amount of space between them.
“Yeah, I did.” That was the only truthful reply. “A lot.”
Such a bright grin. “Let’s go home.”
And they did go, straight to Adrian’s house. More kisses, and this time, in private, they were intense and breathtaking. Adrian’s mouth found Dom’s with a fierceness of purpose, as if each swipe of his tongue could mold their bodies closer together. Dom moaned when those hands grabbed his ass and ground their cocks together.
“Dinner first, Dominic?” Adrian asked between nips and sucks and bites. “Or do you want to scream for me?”
And fuck did that melt Dom’s bones and enflame his cock. “Scream, Adrian. Make me scream.” He wanted to forget who he was. Remember that, too.
Adrian fucked him over the back of the couch in the living room, hard and fast, holding Dom by the hands he’d clasped at the small of his back. Dom’s feet lifted off the ground with every hard thrust and he did exactly what both of them wanted: writhed and moaned and screamed in pleasure.
“Pictured this all week,” Adrian growled. “Your ass in the air. Your tight hole.”
