Adrian woke slowly, and to a sight he absolutely loved—Dominic sound asleep next to him, face mashed into the pillow, his hair everywhere, and all the worries of the world gone from his body. Beautiful. Real. Whole.
Dominic Bradley was a rock star. He was also a scholar and a history geek and a book nerd. He was Adrian’s, too, and that was a miracle by itself. He knelt for Adrian. Gave over his body to be bound. Loved every second of it.
The aftermath of last night’s dinner had been astounding. Gratifying. Harsh. Loving.
And as much as Adrian adored every single moment he spent with Dominic, he was going to send him home. Because they both needed to recover from the events—all the events—of last night. But right now?
He would watch Dominic sleep, watch those lips that were curved into a gentle smile, and hold on. Hold on until he felt safe and secure. Right now, he didn’t. Yes, most of last night was a wild and perfect dream. Dominic’s submission. His declaration of love. The bondage and the sex. Those had been everything Adrian had wanted and more. So much more.
But the revelation about Dominic’s career—this entire public life Adrian knew nothing about—that had thrown Adrian hard. And worse, his anger and Dominic’s fear of discovery had cracked Dominic nearly in two.
Dominic had forgiven the anger, and Adrian believed him. It was the fear that scared Adrian. He certainly wouldn’t tell anyone Dominic’s secret. But he also didn’t necessarily want to be a secret, too. Would he even meet the band? If he suddenly appeared as Domino Grinder’s lover, well, too many people would connect the dots to Dominic.
He’d need to dwell on that. Dive deeper into the internet and see how close they already were. As much as he loved the man, Dominic was haphazard in a lot of ways. How he’d managed to pull off two separate lives for so long, Adrian had no idea. He suspected a lot of it was dumb luck.
He didn’t want luck to run out for Dominic. He wanted him safe and happy. Problem was, Adrian wasn’t sure how he fit into that.
Next to him, Dominic stirred and gave a soft groan, and flicked open his eyes.
“Hey, babe.” Adrian brushed Dominic’s messy hair from his forehead.
His reward was a sleepy smile and a drowsy reply. “Hey.”
“How are you feeling?”
Dominic closed his eyes, smile widening as he stretched. “Really well-fucked.”
Adrian couldn’t help the chuckle, nor the heat that ran through his body.
Dominic opened his eyes again, and this time his gaze was alert—and more serious. “Thank you for last night.”
“Thank you.”
A little frown. “You have that look.”
Confusion made Adrian shift. “What look?”
“The one you get when you’ve thought too much about something.” A few blinks, and Dominic’s frown deepened. “You’re upset.”
Fuck. “I’m not.” Not really. This was certainly not how he wanted to have this conversation, and seeing that spark of fear in Dominic again, sent ice into his own. “God, I love you so much.”
That seemed to smooth away some of those worry lines. “Then what?”
Shit. This part was so delicate. “Well, today I want to listen to your music. Watch some videos. Find out more about this other part of you. But I think I need to do that alone.”
The flicker of hurt was so hard to watch, but it vanished as Dominic sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I get that. And yeah, that’s probably better.”
Adrian cupped Dominic’s cheek, then pulled him closer. “Babe, I’m not lying when I say I love you.”
Dominic pressed his face against Adrian’s chest. “I fucking know that. I just hate leaving. I always hate leaving. At least during the week, I have shit to keep me busy.”
“Same.” He opened space between them. “How about coffee and some breakfast?”
“Pancakes?”
“Sure, pancakes. I’d cook you eggs benedict from scratch, if that’s what you wanted.”
Dominic chuckled. “Pancakes are fine.” He paused. “And some bacon.”
Adrian laughed. “Right. I will work for your stomach’s delight.” He levered himself out of bed. “But first, coffee.”
Dominic smiled, though there was sadness at the edges. “Coffee with you is the best thing in the world.”
They ended up eating pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon, and drinking copious amounts of coffee while sitting in shorts in the kitchen. Dominic squirmed a little on his chair—the same one Adrian had tied him to the night before—and that was a delight.
So was the memory of Dominic’s moans, the shudders, and the taste of his mouth. Adrian sipped his coffee and pushed those thoughts away. If he kept going down that mental path, he’d be so less likely to make good on his plans.
He needed time to himself. Time to see this other Dominic. Explore the public man. The private man? He knew that one. He’d tied him up and fed him pie.
Dominic appraised him. “You’re thinking again.”
“Yeah, I am.” He leaned over and stole a syrup-flavored kiss. “Sorry.”
A huff. “I get it, though. I do. It’s a lot—what happened. I should probably—” Dominic waved the hand that wasn’t holding a fork. “Deal with it, too.”
That Dominic wanted to—was thinking along those lines—said something. “You got anyone to talk to?”
“You mean professionally?”
Adrian nodded.
Dominic shrugged. “Nope. But I can ask around.” He laughed. “Hell, I’m sure Zav or Mish know someone. They fucking know everyone, especially Zav. He—uh.” Dominic snapped his mouth shut.
Well, that was interesting. So was the little creeping red of embarrassment sliding across Dominic’s cheeks. “He what?” Adrian kept his tone light.
“I don’t know how to explain Zav. He’s kinda like you—he sees things. And we’re friends. He takes good care of Ray and Ray is—shit.” He set his fork down. “God, you don’t know any of them. Ray’s my best friend.”
This was more than Dominic had ever spoken about his bandmates. “And Zavier is his husband, yes?” Jackson had said something about that.
Dominic nodded. “Anyway, I—kinda told him about you and me kneeling for you, and he wanted your name so he could check you out.”
Adrian sat up straight. “He’s kinky. In the scene.”
“I guess?” Dominic toyed with his coffee cup, his cheeks so red. “I, um. Try not to think too much about that part of their life.”
Made sense, since Ray was Dominic’s best friend. Hell, Adrian had fooled around with Jackson, but he didn’t really want to hear intimate details about his current boyfriend. “So, what did Zavier discover about me?”
Dominic’s brown eye shone. “That you’re a good man.”
That was gratifying. He’d always been more on the periphery of the BDSM scene here, but Janelle knew him and he’d played with a few others. “I’m glad folks see me like that.”
A nod. “Zav also said I should tell you about the band, way back when. Well, Ray and Mish, too. It’s...a trust thing.”
His throat tightened unexpectedly. “Yes, yes it is.”
Dominic gripped his coffee and peered into it. “I should have trusted you sooner.”
Maybe. But there were other emotions in play. He gripped Dominic’s shoulder and drew him in for another kiss. “It’s fine, babe. You need to trust you, too. Your needs and wants. Sometimes that takes time to work through.”
“Wasn’t easy on you.”
“No,” he admitted. “But I’m here. And you’re here. And we’re together. We’ll make it work.”
A sweet smile that begged to be kissed, and that turned into something longer and hotter, until Dominic gave one of his throaty little moans. Regretfully, Adrian pulled back.
“I should go.” Soft voice and sad eyes. But the fear had vanished from Dominic.
Adrian nodded, regretting that, too.
They stretched the time out a little longer in the kitchen before Dominic headed upstairs to shower and change while Adrian cleaned up from breakfast. When he was done, he poured himself coffee and wandered out into his living room to wait.
On the coffee table, staring back, was Twisted Wishes. Holy fuck—Dominic, his geeky twink of a boyfriend, was a freaking rock star. Adrian blew out a breath and sank down onto the couch. There were songs and performances and shit to look at. A magazine to read. He pulled over his laptop, but resisted the urge to flip it open. Had a feeling Dominic would rather not see him surfing over to the Twisted Wishes website.
So he waited until Dominic returned, dressed in his button-down and slacks and bowtie, looking far from the rocker on the magazine. He gathered his shoes, then sat next to Adrian. His gaze drifted to the magazine. “The worst thing is that it feels like I’m living two lives and I don’t know which one is real.”
“Both.”
Dominic put one shoe on. “That’s what I think I want. I—” He shook his head, then put the other shoe on. “I’m not sure it’s possible, sometimes.”
“We’ll find a way.” Maybe if Adrian kept saying it, it would be true.
“I hope so.”
He couldn’t help pulling Dominic into another kiss, slow and sweet. The hair at the nape of his neck was damp, and he smelled of Adrian’s shower gel and tasted of mint. When Adrian drew back, he met Dominic’s gaze. “Call me tomorrow, and we’ll talk.”
A nod. Dominic rose. “We never drank that wine I brought.”
Adrian pushed himself off the couch and followed Dominic to the front door. “We’ll have other nights, babe.”
There was that flash of fear in Dominic, and then it vanished. “Yeah.”
Another kiss and murmured goodbyes, then Dominic was bounding down the steps into the streets of Brooklyn, and gone from Adrian’s view.
* * *
The house felt empty without Dominic there with Adrian, especially up in the library. He’d wanted light and comfort, and even with the absence of the man he loved, this space still brought him joy, if somewhat muted.
He sipped a mug of coffee and flipped open the magazine to finally read the article about Twisted Wishes. It was, it turned out, a rambling interview-type piece with the author’s own observations about the band’s history and members interspersed between stories the band members told about themselves and answers to questions.
The whole thing made good reading. By the end, Adrian was already itching to dig deeper into the band and its members. Instead, he flipped through the photos once more, and reread the entire article. Ray had started a band in high school. Couple of iterations later, it had been him and Domino at local bars, Ray in his ripped jeans and T-shirts and Domino in his half-punk, half-goth fusion outfits. Then they’d picked up Mish, a firebrand of a redheaded base player, and their original drummer Kevin.
Their first two albums had a small following, but they’d hit their stride with the third and catapulted onto the scene—and apparently nearly crashed and burned immediately. Kevin was thrown out of the band due to his alcoholism, and they’d picked up Zavier Demos.
Zavier was a classically trained timpanist and had been a classmate of Ray’s for a year. Rumor had it that they’d started off hating each other, but given that they were now married—that had changed.
Rocktime: And when did you realize you had feelings for Ray?
Demos: I’ve always had feelings for Ray. It was merely the state of those feelings that shifted.
Van Zeller: Yeah, at a certain point he stopped wanting to beat my ass.
Demos: I’ve never stopped wanting to beat your ass, Ray.
Yes, Adrian would probably get along with Zavier. He flipped to the photo and stared. If he hadn’t known better, he’d say he met Zavier at one point or another. He shoved the thought out of his mind. Probably just had one of those faces. Movie-star looks.
The bits with Dominic—or rather, Domino—were more interesting for what they contained and what they didn’t. Of course, there was all kinds of speculation about who Domino really was. And the questions asked all fell into the fishing category. Thing was—Dominic never lied. He’d actually told them exactly who he was, and that blew Adrian’s mind.
Rocktime: So what does Domino Grinder do for fun? What are your downtimes like?
Grinder: Ya really want to know? I sneak out and go to libraries and museums. I get fucking turned on by the thought of reading a good book. Learning something new.
And underneath the makeup, hair gel, and studded leather, the man Adrian had come to love stared back from those photos. Warm brown eyes, though no glasses. That seductive mix of power, hunger, and shyness—even that came through if you knew how to look.
The article had Adrian admiring Twisted Wishes, especially their frontman, who’d been put through hell by their former label. But he and the band had come out of the whole horrible episode stronger and wiser—and with a pile of cash. Which explained how Dominic had been able to buy his place in a swankier part of Brooklyn than Adrian lived in.
And, admittedly, things here were awfully swank now. He had such mixed feelings about that, especially since he was technically part of the problem, even if this was his family’s house. His mom wouldn’t have been able to afford to live here, even if she were still alive. Nor, he bet, would she have felt comfortable. But he did, and a part of him rebelled against that.
Adrian blew out a breath and rose to head downstairs. The next step was to search the web, listen to songs, and watch some videos.
Once back in his living room, he brought up the Twisted Wishes website—and stared at it, cringing. It was a mishmash of bad design and coding. Red text on a black background. Links that didn’t quite work. Too much blinking shit. If the band was popular enough to make it onto the cover of a popular magazine, then man, they needed a better web designer. He flipped through the pages and links and shook his head. They better not have paid that much for this mess. It was like something out of the early 2000s. Holy shit. And there weren’t even any links to videos or to song downloads or...anything, really. The news was woefully out of date. At least they did have Zavier listed as a band member, so someone was updating it.
Their Twitter was okay, but not very active, and there wasn’t really any other social media. No Instagram. No Snapchat. No YouTube channel.
Okay, so put those things on a list he’d have to bring up to Dominic eventually. They really needed a better social media person.
However, there were a bunch of fan sites that had damn good design and content. Links to high-quality concert videos, plus the official videos. Also a history of the band that was a little more in-depth than the magazine. It mentioned some of the earlier incarnations of the band and had clippings of reviews from local New Jersey freebie newspapers.
Adrian listened to a few of their songs. They were—well, exactly how Jackson had described. In between a lot of things. Not pop, though. Harder than Adrian liked his music, but the lyrics...yeah Jackson had been right about them, too.
And there was Dominic’s guitar, too, screaming out of the songs at times. Simple to complex. Dizzying strings of notes. Dominic could play, which Adrian knew from the Met, but this was...he couldn’t even describe it. Maybe if you mashed classical with punk or metal or something.
He hunted down some videos from their most recent tour, and by the second one, was slack-jawed. Same songs, but at a higher level, as if someone had turned up the talent of everyone in the band by three or four notches. The energy, the rhythm, and fucking hell, the way Dominic moved and played onstage.
Hell yes, Adrian could watch that for hours.
In retrospect, it was probably a good thing Dominic had gone home, because there were a lot of videos and he would, in fact, be watching for hours and staring at the man he loved gyrate and dance and play his guitar for screaming fans. He grabbed his remote, turned on the TV, and set it to stream from his laptop.
Domino Grinder was godlike. Walking sex. And Adrian was going to enjoy the hell out of that in high-definition. Better than fucking porn, his Dominic full of passion and snarl.
What would that version of Dominic taste like? The lipstick alone had Adrian hard.
Oh yes, this would be fun research, indeed.
* * *
Sunday night, Dom lay on his too-modern couch in his too-perfect living room and stared at the ceiling, phone plastered to his ear and heart beating in his chest.
“Do you want to meet the band?” He’d have rather asked in person, but after Adrian had discovered who Dom really was—even if the results hadn’t been that bad—they’d needed some time apart. Adrian to find out more and Dom to get over the shock and fear and fucking embarrassment.
Adrian had been furious, then utterly apologetic and tender. Then an exquisite Dominant and a voracious machine of a lover.
He was a fucking miracle, that’s what Adrian was. But in the aftermath of fucking amazing sex, Dom had kinda forgotten to ask.
The long silence between them finally ended with an inhale of breath. “I would, yes. But only if you feel comfortable with that.”
Brought fucking tears to his eyes, and he wanted to punch Adrian for being the way he was. Or kiss him. Probably the latter. “Yeah, I do. I mean, they’re an important part of my life and so are you, so...yeah. I really do want you to meet them.”
“Then I’d be honored to.”
Of course he would. “How ’bout hearing us play? Like, come to a rehearsal?” Dom could ask him to the concert, but that was too far away. He wanted the band to know Adrian and Adrian to know the band now.
The pause was much shorter this time. “Babe, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear you play. That trip to the Met and that one night you played for me only made it worse.”
God, he’d loved playing that Renaissance guitar. The timbre and sound. He huffed out a laugh. “I hardly played anything at the Met or at your place.”
“But you played, and it was lovely and I’m selfish and want more. I want as much of you as you’re willing to give me.”
Dom shivered. Everything. He wanted Adrian to know everything. “Okay. How about tomorrow? We usually go from midafternoon into the evening, so you could come by after work—and I’ll introduce you.”
“I—Yes. I’d love that. Say between five-thirty and six?” Joy in Adrian’s voice. Excitement.
“Yeah.” Dom rattled off the address. “I’ll leave a note at the front desk. You should be able to come up to the floor we’re on, then.”
“Thank you.” A purr of words that made Dom shiver and slide a hand down his belly, and stop at the waistband of his boxers.
He should have been in bed, but that was empty and lonely and he never slept well there. He often slept on the couch in his living room. He could pretend he was on tour and fall asleep. Sometimes. “I miss you.”
Adrian grunted. “I do, too. I think the space is good, though. I read the article. Listened to your songs. Watched videos. I don’t think you’d have liked me doing that with you around.”
Definitely not. Dom loved hearing Twisted Wishes songs when he was out, and it was even better if people were nodding or singing along, but to sit there and listen when Adrian heard those songs for the first time? When he decided whether he liked them? No.
Still, he had to know. “What did you think?”
“They’re really interesting.” The way he said those words, though—there was honesty there. Like Adrian actually found the songs thought-provoking or something. “I need to listen to more. You guys are amazing in concert.”
Now, that Dom liked. “Good. Shit, I was afraid you’d think they were crap.”
Adrian blew out a breath. “You know my friend Jackson from work?”
“The personal trainer dude.”
“He’s not really my trainer, but yes. Anyway, he knows music better than I do, and he recommended your songs. Said the lyrics especially would catch my attention.”
“That’s because Ray’s fucking brilliant.”
“But so are the rest of you. I’m listening for your guitar, Dominic.” There was a pause. “And I’ve been reading that magazine article and some of the interviews on the web. Each one might start as Ray’s notes and lyrics, but it takes all of you to make those into a song.”
“Fuck, you have been reading! That’s like one of Ray’s sayings.”
Laughter. “He sounds like a good guy.” Then a sigh. “But if you do want me to come to your practice tomorrow and meet everyone, I should go and get ready for bed. I have work in the morning.”
“I’d rather talk to you all night.”
“And I’d like to tie you up, make you beg for my cock, then drill you down into my mattress.” Adrian’s voice was wicked. “But we don’t always get what we want.”
Hard in an instant, and painfully so. “Fuck, Adrian. That’s unfair!” He palmed himself through his boxers.
A laugh that was dark and delicious. “Good night, Dominic. I adore you.”
“You adore teasing me.” Dom slipped a hand under the waistband and stroked.
“That, too.” Adrian’s voice dropped in volume and tone. “You’re already jacking off, aren’t you?”
Dom groaned in response.
“Mmm. There’s a sound I love. I’ll be thinking about that all night.” He whispered, “Good night, babe.”
“I fucking love you.” Wasn’t exactly what Dom had planned to say. But he was hard and needy and he missed Adrian with all his soul.
“I know. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
He gritted his teeth. “Okay.”
“Night,” Adrian whispered, then was gone.
Dom slid his phone onto the coffee table, shoved his boxers down, and jacked off in earnest, wishing for Adrian’s touch and breath and words. His heat. Those cuffs.
Should have taken it slow. Made it last. But there was too much heat and sadness and worry, so he came hard and fast, hating that he was alone, and so looking forward to tomorrow, when he wouldn’t be.