Dom was getting used to the whiplash effect of moving in and out of his two lives. Weekdays, more often now than not, he was Domino, even dressing the part to go into the studio.
Part of it was a marketing ploy—their show was coming up. He even headed out on the town with the rest of the band a few times. Camera and cell phone flashes. Autographs. People screaming their names. His name.
God, he loved it. As much as the stage and the center of attention scared Dominic, Domino thrived in that environment. Dom could be as brash and cocky and brave as he wanted to be in this, his other life.
And he had another life now, not just moments as Dominic, but during the weekends and a few weeknights, he was Dominic and with Adrian, thoroughly enjoying every aspect of what it meant to be dating him, from the lovely food to the stimulating conversation, to the sex that left him wrecked and panting and wanting more, even when he topped.
Thursday had been a full-out Twisted Wishes fun fest. He’d started the day as Domino, sneaking out of his house in the very early mornings, hoodie pulled over his head and slouching through the subway. Once in Manhattan, he’d relaxed and let people see a little more—and soon he’d caught some kids staring and trying surreptitiously to take photos of him.
Dom raised his head, held up his middle finger to his lips, then broke into a smile when the kids gasped and laughed. Then he let them take selfies with him and signed one girl’s arm.
At the next stop, he got off because he was close enough to walk to the studio without too much trouble. He stepped out into the bright day, tossed his hoodie back, and strode through the city on his way to their studio.
When he got there, Ray gave him a look. “Having a little fun?” He waved his phone with Instagram opened and photos of him and the kids on the subway displayed.
Dom shrugged. “Eh, it’s been a while.”
Mish snorted. “For someone who claims to hate the spotlight, you have such an odd fucking way of showing it.”
Zavier was silently fiddling with his drum kit, but he had the damn smile on his face.
“Look,” Dom said. “I kinda miss being Domino sometimes. And I can be in the spotlight as him.” He certainly couldn’t as Dominic.
“Actually, I’m glad for this.” Ray waved his phone again. “’Cause it’s good they’re seeing you out, too. There were some really weird rumors you’d been booted from the band.”
Dom laughed. He couldn’t help it. But once the absurdity had worn off, sobriety slipped in—the humbling kind. “Yeah, I guess I could see how people might think that.”
“But the more they see you—coming to the studio, going out with us, out on your own—the more those will go away. They’ll know you’re a part of the band.”
“I’ve been here the entire time!”
Zavier stood. “But not as Domino. And you’ve been enjoying your other life.”
Dom swung around, fear twisting up his spine. “What are you saying, Zav?”
He held up his hands. “Nothing in particular. Just that you haven’t melded these two sides of you.”
“I don’t intend to.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he’d said and what that meant—keeping Adrian out of the loop permanently. Which wasn’t sustainable. He was going to lose Adrian in the end.
But the thought of the spotlight shining down on the Dominic that Adrian knew—and that light being trained on Adrian himself—tied Dom’s stomach into knots and had his heart pounding. It was as if he’d been transported back to that first time onstage behind Ray—as himself, not Domino. Ray could take the spotlight, the crowds, and the scrutiny. But could Adrian? Was it even fair to ask him to endure what he couldn’t without a disguise?
Dom couldn’t do it, not as Dominic. He thought he could, but he’d been wrong.
Zavier’s shoulders dropped. “Dom.”
“Don’t you start.” He rounded on them all. “Don’t any of you start. It’s my life and my decision.” Even if a voice in the back of his head screamed that it was perhaps the most foolish one he’d ever made in his life.
“I can’t be Dominic and Domino at the same time.” He spoke softly, and peered at Ray, his oldest friend. The one that had been there in high school after that talent show, when he’d puked his nerves up into porcelain. “I can’t. I’m not—” he gestured at himself “—built for rock-and-roll when you take all this shit off.”
Ray opened his mouth as if to say something, then must have thought better of it. But after another moment, he did speak. “You’re the best damn guitarist I know, Dom.”
The anger was ebbing, but the horror, the creeping along his veins at the thought of leaving Adrian started working up his body. “Can we just play? That’s what we’re here for, right?”
Mish clapped him on the back. “Get your guitar, sweetheart, and let’s get to work.”
Took a few songs to get out of his head and into the music, but once he did, Dom felt so much better. Didn’t matter if it was his electric or some three-hundred-year-old instrument—when there were strings under his fingers and notes in the air, everything in the world faded away.
It was like being onstage. Or in Adrian’s bed.
He didn’t fumble the next chord, or any of the ones after, even though his heart was in his throat and tears lurked behind his eyes.
Domino Grinder didn’t cry, and there was a saving grace to that.
* * *
He didn’t go to Adrian’s Friday night—that he spent as Domino, too. Dinner out with the band, then hitting Broadway for a show. He’d let Adrian know earlier in the week that he’d have to break their streak of Friday dinners. “It’s...um...work-related.”
“Ah,” Adrian had said, his voice thin over the phone. “I see. Well, I will miss you, certainly, but I know you do have a life outside of the one you share with me.”
It was, as digs go, very gentle. Still, it hurt. “You free Saturday?”
The reply came instantly, and was warm and smooth. “Of course. You’re welcome here anytime, Dominic. Any evening, any day.” He paused. “Though, if it’s during the week, I’m likely killing brain cells from stress in a cube.”
Dom laughed. “Is it really that bad?”
“Sometimes.” Ruefulness played out in his voice. “When should I expect you Saturday?”
Dom dropped his voice low. “Early. Don’t bother getting dressed, ’cause I’ll just drag you back to your bed.”
“Sounds lovely.” The cheer was back in Adrian’s voice. “I can’t wait.”
Now it was six-thirty in the morning, Dom hadn’t had any coffee, and he was standing on Adrian’s steps, wondering if this was, indeed, too early. He rang the bell and waited. When he was about to ring it a second time, the distinct click of locks being thrown sounded, and the door cracked open to reveal Adrian, muss-haired, bleary-eyed, and blinking, and wearing nothing but a pair of boxers that were way too low-slung.
Damn, Dom would never get enough of seeing that body. “Hi.”
Adrian’s smile was the best thing in the universe. He opened the door wider and reached for Dom. “Come here.” A whisper, slurred with exhaustion.
He went, and wrapped his arms around this man he cared so damn much for. Kissed the junction where his neck met his shoulder.
Adrian drew him inside, kicked the door closed, and threw the locks. “Upstairs,” he murmured against Dom’s hair.
Dom let the duffel slip off his shoulder, let Adrian lead him up those stairs, strip every last piece of clothing off of him, and pull him down into his bed.
Felt like home. Dom closed his eyes against kisses and touches. Adrian’s hands—his whole body—were warm. He’d lost the boxers along the way, and their bodies meshed perfectly, molding and sliding until there was very little space between them. When Adrian took his mouth, Dom moaned and tried desperately to beg for what he wanted without using words.
Speaking would mean Adrian’s mouth wouldn’t be on his—and he needed to be lost in that kiss.
Maybe Adrian figured it out, or maybe he wanted the same thing, but it only took a little bit of time for Adrian to get the lube and a condom, and then he was pressing in, opening up Dom. Minimum prep, which was fine, because he needed the sharpness, the fullness, to grunt and cry as Adrian took him.
But it wasn’t the fast fucking he’d been expecting—no. It was something far more profound. Deep, long, slow strokes. Teasing kisses, smiles, and murmurs of endearments. His name. Babe.
He came with tears in his eyes and Adrian swallowing his own name on Dom’s lips. Those long strokes turned shorter and harder, until he, too, had fallen over the edge into bliss.
Perfect. Too much. Never enough.
I’m screwed.
Even more so when, after disposing of the condom and the tissues Dom had used to clean his chest, Adrian slid in next to him, wrapped his arms around him, and muttered three words.
“I love you.”
They were so soft, and Adrian fell asleep a moment later, so Dom didn’t even know if Adrian had realized he’d voiced them.
But Dom had heard them, and his whole world tumbled down, along with his heart.
* * *
Sunday morning, a week and a day after their trip to the Met, was just as lazy as Saturday, and once again, Adrian had made love to Dom, a contrast from the previous evening that had left bruises on his hips and scratches on Adrian’s back. Adrian had taken him dancing, and the club had been out of this world. Gay. Loud. Full of beautiful people.
Not a single soul recognized him as Domino. It was so damn liberating that he bumped and ground and teased Adrian—who everyone seemed to have known—without mercy.
They’d very nearly fucked in the bathroom because of that, though Adrian got close to bringing Dom off and had left him hard and panting. “That’s what bad boys get when they’re cock teases,” Adrian had growled into his ear.
When they’d gotten back, Adrian had wrapped those leather cuffs around his wrists again, tied him to the bedframe, and fucked him so hard, Dom must have woken the neighbors with his screams of pleasure.
Now they lounged on the couch, books in hand, claimed from the library two floors up. Over near the entrance to Adrian’s brownstone, the photograph he’d bought for Dom was all wrapped up and ready to go home with him. He had no idea where he’d put it in his big but empty house. And seeing the photo before the gallery workers had wrapped it for him had flipped his heart and mind over and over. To be tied like that. Held like that. His body craved knowing, especially since the experiment that other weekend had turned him inside out in so many ways.
They’d picked the photo up Saturday, after they’d gone to a production of The Tempest in Bryant Park, then stumbled upon an interesting lecture about immigration in the New York Public Library.
It was, as Adrian said before taking him clubbing, another great day of playing tourist in their own city.
Dom had seen some posters about the Twisted Wishes concert, too, at the club and while they’d wandered all over the city. Weird to walk right by a poster blaring the name of his band. Adrian didn’t even give them a second glance, which was fine. Less complex. Less complicated.
Except for the gnawing feeling in the back of Dom’s head and the voice that told him he was living a lie. Eventually he’d have to confess and trust Adrian with his secret—or walk away.
He had no idea what Adrian would think. What he would do.
And that was the musing on his mind as he sat with Adrian on the couch, their legs entwined as they read. Dom had a book of poetry on his lap and Adrian had been paging through a pamphlet about the makings of the borders of New York State. There were more books strewn on the coffee table.
When he glanced over, the pamphlet was closed on Adrian’s lap, and his gaze was locked on Dom like a spotlight.
Heat flared in Dom’s veins, because he’d come to know that calculated expression and that wicked smile—and welcomed it.
“Would you like to try something a little more interesting with rope?”
Dom closed the book of poetry he hadn’t really been reading. “Yes.” Didn’t even have to know what more interesting meant.
Adrian chuckled, then nudged him with his foot. “Up then. Let’s head to the bedroom.”
There was this subtle change in Adrian when he was giving orders, a deeper voice, a more exact pronunciation. Even the way he held his body was different, despite being relaxed.
Power. Control. Dom had read a little about what it was like to be a Dominant. Didn’t really get it all, but obviously it really was a thing for Adrian, and he had all those signs now. That shift in being ticked Dom’s heart up and shook out his soul and mind.
The submission thing? Yeah, he got that. Loved that feeling. Didn’t know why, despite reading those books Adrian had lent him. Didn’t care, because some part of him felt so damn good when he followed what Adrian said—even if it was the simplest of orders, like go upstairs. That would lead to more commands, and surrendering himself, and being lost and safe in whatever Adrian chose for today.
He could forget about the future. Forget the other half of his life. Forget the words he’d voiced out loud to the band.
He paused when they reached and entered the bedroom, and Adrian circled him from behind, pulling their bodies close and brushing his lips over what Dom suspected was one of Adrian’s favorite spots—the back of Dom’s neck.
Made him whimper every time.
“Love that sound,” Adrian murmured. “Take all of your clothes off. I want you naked for this.”
Dom exhaled. “Yeah. Okay.” Naked was always a good start. But Adrian didn’t let go.
He spoke, deep and dark against that sensitive spot on Dom’s neck. “I’m going to tie you more fully today. Arms. Torso. Legs. See if you like it.”
Dom trembled, needing, wanting to tell Adrian he wanted what was being offered. “I’ve been dreaming about that. Like the photo.”
“Yes, like the photo. All that skin and rope. Except my rope, and your flesh, body, and mind, Dominic.”
Adrian’s arms might have been the only things holding him up. He leaned back into his heat. “Perfect.”
“Mmmhmm. And if you like the experience and are comfortable...” Adrian nipped Dom’s neck. “I’m gonna fuck you nice and hard in those ropes, too.”
It was like Adrian flipped a switch in Dom. In an instant, he’d gone from mildly aroused to hard as hell and needing every inch of Adrian possessing him. “Oh fuck. Yes, please.”
“We’ll see.” Another kiss ghosted over Dom’s neck, and Adrian let go. “Clothes off, Dominic.”
He didn’t waste any time undressing, but rather than throw his shirt and jeans all over the place, he folded them somewhat haphazardly and dropped them onto a bench on the side of the room. Everything went, down to his socks and his watch.
Adrian’s admiration was obvious, from the heat in his stare to the hard bulge of his dick in his jeans. “Onto the bed, please, on your back.”
Dom loved this bed more than his own. His was inherently lonely. This one? Large and full of life and company. He positioned himself in the middle, arms at his sides.
“Hmm, no. Arms up above your head.”
He swallowed and raised both toward the headboard. Wasn’t uncomfortable, but it did leave him feeling more open, more exposed. His breathing hitched up a notch.
Adrian must have noticed, because he raised an eyebrow. “Everything all right?”
“Just fucking turned on.”
A wicked, wicked quirk to those lips, but no reply. From his dresser drawer of goodies, Adrian pulled out several bundles of the black rope he’d used before—but far more bundles. He placed them on the bench by the bed, then scanned Dom’s body, that same burning desire in his eyes as before.
It wasn’t entirely sexual, Dom realized. Sure, Adrian was hard, but the way he flicked his eyes over Dom’s flesh—it wasn’t with the gaze of someone who wanted to devour.
Adrian wanted to possess. Tame. Have.
Dom couldn’t help the shudder.
That gaze softened a little, and Adrian went back to the drawer to pull out another item—a pair of large scissors. He placed them on the bedside table. “At any time you need out, tell me, and I’ll have you free as fast as possible.”
Dom nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.” He paused. “But I want this. You know I do.”
“I do know. But wanting and handling can sometimes be different things.” He patted Dom’s calf. “Trust me on this.”
He had no other choice, really.
Dom had expected Adrian to start at his wrists and work down, but that’s not what happened. He started at the chest and worked up and down, shifted Dom this way and that. Looping, knotting, tying until rope crossed his body in weblike patterns and Dom felt the gentle pressure and friction with every breath. Arms were secured above his head, wrists tied together. Both arms bound down with rope. Adrian stroked and touched and murmured as he worked, and Dom’s nerves zinged and shook. His skin felt tight, and he was light and strong and secure in the web Adrian created over his body.
Then he worked his way down, rope lying over Dom’s hips and between his legs and—
Dom sucked in a breath and moaned when Adrian crossed the rope around the base of his cock. Lifted and separated his balls. Not tight, though. Just enough that he knew those bonds were there.
As if answering Dom’s thoughts, Adrian spoke, his words low and husky. “Yes, I could make it tighter. But we really haven’t discussed cock and ball torture. So we’ll leave that for now.”
Cock and—“I haven’t gotten to that chapter yet.”
Adrian laughed and set to work on his legs. Those were bound together, all the way down to his ankles. Adrian even wove rope between his toes.
The bed shifted beneath Dom when Adrian finished and stood. “There.” Adrian had a quirk of a smile.
He didn’t ask how Dom felt, which was good, since he didn’t even know how to process the sensations over his body. Rope pulled when he shivered or breathed or flexed a muscle, sending spikes of awareness down his body. There was security here, but also terror because he really was completely tied up and at Adrian’s mercy. He could move his arms a little more than the rest of his body—but not much.
Strangely, he was hard—but not aroused. At least not in the way he normally thought of it; that driving need to fuck wasn’t there.
Adrian drew his finger in a circle around Dom’s bellybutton, and everything went hazy. He moaned against the touch. Ropes pulled. Skin responded.
And oh, that grin. “Yes. Very nice. You’re a dream, Dominic.”
This felt like one, like some strange, surreal moment where everything he’d ever desired coalesced into one thing—the ropes around his body. He tried for words, but that seemed like too much, so he just met Adrian’s gaze.
A chuckle and more touches, and the same overwhelming flood of sensations. Adrian ghosted fingers and tongue over so much of Dom’s body. Rope shifted. Skin sang. No idea how long it lasted, but in the end, he was whimpering.
He was exhausted. He wanted more. “Please.” This time, he managed to get that word out.
Adrian bent down and kissed him. Not the devouring kiss he expected, but a sweet one that tasted of calm and quiet. He cupped Dom’s face. “I’m gonna untie you.”
Dom croaked. “But—sex?” Then again, the thought of Adrian flipping him over and plowing into him made him squeeze his eyes shut as waves of pleasure rippled over his body.
The hand remained. “Not tonight. You’re a little too far gone. And this is new to you.”
“Okay.” Yeah, ’cause he was actually really out of it. Good god. This was like being drunk.
“Dominic, thank you for trusting me. It’s been—a very long while for me.”
Dom had no idea what that meant. “Welcome.”
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 say something.
“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.