“Fuck,” Jax moaned as gravity pushed him farther onto Ari’s cock. The increased sensation deserved a reward, and Ari sucked a mark into the unbitten side of Jax’s neck as Jax squeezed down hard.
“Jax,” Ari groaned. Retaking his hips, he began to push at a brutal pace. Jax got even louder in this position. Ari slid his hand across Jax’s chest and up under his chin, the better to get a strong hold, and Jax moaned at every touch.
“How—how do you want to—” Ari pushed out between gasps, his thrusts erratic now. He wanted Jax there with him.
“I’m close,” Jax gasped, which wasn’t an answer. Then Jax craned his neck and tilted his head back, his mouth open and seeking, a clear invitation for a kiss.
Ari might be surprised by the request for something so intimate, but he wasn’t a fool. He took Jax’s lips in a filthy, panting kiss and Jax’s dick in a sloppy hand job, and Jax came, moaning into his mouth. Ari followed after, his mouth pressed against Jax’s, their moans mingling with their breaths.
“Fuck,” Jax whimpered, a boneless sprawl across Ari’s lap. “I don’t think I can actually move.”
Ari didn’t want to break the moment, but he figured Jax might feel drastically different about still being connected. He gently tipped Jax forward onto the bed, helping control the fall, and carefully slid his dick out. Jax sighed and burrowed his face into a pillow.
Ari was more than happy to linger over the view, one of superb ass and defined shoulders littered with bruises. Only… would Jax want to cuddle? He hadn’t minded staying the other night, but Ari didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Besides, the condom needed tossing, and Jax would probably appreciate a washcloth.
Ari got up to accomplish both tasks and returned to find Jax flipped over onto his back. He smiled at Ari when he returned and held up the warm cloth like a peace offering. He took the cloth and cleaned his belly and cock of the remaining evidence.
“You know,” Jax said, shifting his hips and wrinkling his nose, “me and these sheets might need more intense washing intervention.”
Ari snorted. “I’m happy to share my shower with you. Jointly or individually.” The sheets were a lost cause, but if they were going for round two—or three—there didn’t seem much point in stripping the bed now.
Jax held out a hand to be pulled upright. “Well, with an offer like that.”
ARI TURNEDout to have a very nice shower and a knack for brunch. Jax could get used to both.
“So this is where you do your composing?” He wandered over to the piano, which sat on a colorful woven rug. Ari’s living room overlooked a park, with the Thames just visible in the distance. Of course, the piano faced away from the window, so maybe he didn’t even look at it. Maybe he looked at the coordinating wall hanging, or the framed picture of the couple who must be his parents standing in front of a beautifully tiled building with the perfect high arches he associated with Persian architecture.
“When the mood strikes me and I’m home, yes.” An electric violin and bow hung on the wall, and a conventional case sat underneath the piano, probably for a wood instrument. Jax would bet that one had some kind of humidity control. You wouldn’t just leave an expensive instrument outside of a carefully controlled climate.
Something in Ari’s answer made Jax look up. “Trouble?” he asked.
“Of a sort.” Ari joined him at the piano bench, and they sat down shoulder to shoulder. Jax had never played a piano this nice. The ebony wood gleamed in the light from the window. “I have an album due soon.”
Ah.Good to know he might be disappearing into a hole for the next little while. “How soon?”
Ari looked over, lips quirking. “I’m supposed to start recording next month.”
Wow. October was more than half over. “So, really soon. Why do I sense a ‘but’?”
“I expect because you’re entirely too perceptive.” Ari moved his fingers over the keys, gently coaxing out a tune that felt warm but melancholy, like a rainy summer day without your lover. “Technically I should have the songs written and greenlit by now and just be rehearsing and booking session musicians to record with. Normally I get a lot of writing done on tour. But this last tour didn’t feel like any other tour, and I didn’t get any writing done.”
“I can see how that would happen.” Jax fumbled out a few notes, trying to follow along with what Ari was doing. “Are you having any better luck now that you’re home?”
Ari stopped playing and watched Jax’s fingers for a moment. “Some,” he admitted. “More than I hoped for. Less than my producer would like.”
Jax wondered what had changed. Maybe he needed different scenery, or to be around his family. Maybe he needed to decompress.
But either way it was probably pretty personal, so Jax didn’t ask. “Will you play one for me?” he asked instead, placing his hands in his lap.
Strangely—sweetly—this made Ari flush, though he must get asked all the time. “Ah, not yet.” He smoothed a hand over his hair—totally unnecessarily, as he’d tied it back with an elastic. “I’m… superstitious about them, I guess you could say. They’re not done yet. I let Noella put bits of one on my Instagram, but only because she insisted. To have someone hear it live….”
“I understand. When they’re finished, though?”
Ari flushed again—a sweet dark pink washing over brown. “We’ll see.”
Jax nudged him in the side. “Tease.” Then he caught sight of the time. “Damn. I have to go.” He stood, relishing the slight ache in his muscles. “I have to run a couple errands before my shift tonight.”
Gracefully, Ari stood as well. “I thought you worked Thursday through Saturday nights?”
