Running with Scissors (20 page)

going to jerk off and move on. That would require being able

to ignore A.J., and that wasn’t possible. Especially not now.

The man who’d kissed him here was an entirely different

animal from the one sitting behind the drum set now. That

didn’t surprise him all that much anymore. After al , at every

turn, A.J. had caught him off guard. Onstage, he transformed

from shy bordering on passive to a powerful, violent drummer.

Here, he shifted—effortlessly, it seemed—back and forth

from soft-spoken and apologetic to the kind of aggressive that

brought to mind sex that left marks.

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When they’d first met, if he’d had to guess, Jude would’ve

suspected A.J. was the type who would need to be coaxed at

every step in bed. He hadn’t seemed to have an assertive bone

in his body. Now, with Jude’s lip still throbbing ever so slightly from getting pinched between teeth, he was pretty fucking

sure that a night with A.J. would end with broken furniture

and pissed-off neighbors. Maybe even lights and sirens.

Want. Now.

While Shiloh and Vanessa talked through a troublesome

section, he sat back and stretched a crick out of his neck. As

he did, he glanced at Connor and realized his ex was watching

him over the rim of his cup.

It was impossible to read Connor’s expression. There was

definitely some scrutiny and plenty of hostility, but was it just his usual contempt? Or did he suspect something?

That was crazy. Of course he didn’t suspect anything.

He and A.J. had separated completely by the time the band

had wandered back in, and they’d been far enough from the

third-floor window that no one could have seen a thing. He

was just being paranoid. Not that he had a guilty conscience

or anything.

The rehearsal went on. They’d been practicing these songs

in between shows during the last few weeks of the tour, and

thank God for that, since the record label had them on a

balls-to-the-wall timeline for finishing this album. One by

one, they sanded the rough edges off most of the songs that had been dog-eared for the album. The producer would certainly

have more feedback for them, but after a few grueling hours,

each piece was beginning to sound like an actual song instead

of something coughed up by a fledgling garage band. Despite

his absent brain, he felt great about the progress they’d made.

This was going to be a kickass album, especially if the band

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could really put the past aside during recording and work

together like they had today.

“I think we’re good to go. I’m ready to call it a night.”

Shiloh’s voice was getting almost as scratchy as Connor’s, so

no one argued.

Connor cleared his throat. “I want to try some of the other

songs tomorrow, just to see if we want any for the album.” He

tapped the list they’d been working from today. “But we’ve

definitely got a good list to get us started. The label’s schedule is still going to be a bitch, but I think we can swing it.”

“Which songs do you want to look at tomorrow, then?”

Richie picked up his copy of the “maybe” songs. “So I know

which ones to practice tonight?”

While the band debated the list, Jude rubbed his hands

with cal used fingers. He was about to suggest one of the

songs they’d played but never released way back in the day,

but right then, his phone buzzed.

It was a text from A.J., and it was short and to the point:

Tonight?

After that, an address. One that included an apartment

number.

He gulped. He met A.J.’s gaze from across the room,

and thank God the drummer had a convincing poker face.

Jude probably didn’t—not when he was this close to openly

drooling over A.J.—but A.J.’s expression was neutral, not

giving away a single thing despite locking eyes with him.

Jude dropped his gaze and stared at the text message. At

the one-word invitation and the address.

Lead me not into temptation, for I know the way myself . . .

He slowly released his breath.

Well, Jude. What’s your priority?

The drummer you jerked off to last night?

Or the band you’ve always regretted walking away from?
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paced in his cramped studio apartment. What

a.j.the hell was he
thinking
? It didn’t matter how hot

Jude’s body was, or how good his kiss tasted, or how many

different ways A.J. could imagine them getting each other off,

this was a
horrible
idea.

Jude hadn’t actually given him a “yeah” or a “no.” Not even

a “maybe” or a “probably not.” Just a look, and another look,

and a look that had lasted conspicuously long considering

they’d been surrounded by their bandmates.

Then the rehearsal had ended, and Jude had gotten the

hell out of there. A.J. hadn’t been far behind, hoping he’d run into him in the studio’s parking lot, but Jude and his car had

both been long gone by the time he made it outside.

Now he was home, jittery and freaking out, and he didn’t

know if he hoped Jude showed up or if he wanted him to

stay the fuck away. All he knew was that this was such a bad

idea on so many levels. The awkwardness if things got weird.

The backlash if they got caught. Shit, if he was going to get

naked with anyone in the band, he’d picked the absolute

worst person besides
maybe
Connor. If anyone found out, he and Jude would have their walking papers by dawn, assuming

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Vanessa and Connor didn’t literally shred both of them to

ribbons.

A knock at the door almost gave him a heart attack.

Oh God. He came
.

He took a deep breath, and then he went to the door and

pulled it open.

From across the threshold, Jude met his gaze.

His stomach flipped. Blood pounded in his ears. He

wondered if Jude was freaking out beneath the surface, even

though he looked calm and cool.

Without a word, A.J. stepped aside, and Jude came in.

A.J. hadn’t noticed the door hinges making a sound before,

but as he closed the door now they creaked softly, just enough

to emphasize how silent the room was otherwise. The lock

clicked, and his shoe squeaked as he turned around. And then

nothing. God, yes, it was dead quiet in here. Two people, no

one breathing—if not for the distant growl of freeway traffic

and the heavy thumping of his heart, he might’ve thought

he’d lost his hearing altogether.

He stepped closer to Jude, who tensed but kept his feet

planted.

Their eyes met, and A.J. couldn’t read Jude’s to save his

life.
If one of us is going to be the adult and call this thing off,
now would be the time
.

Jude reached for A.J.’s waist. A.J. grabbed his shirt in one

hand, the back of his neck in the other, and kissed him, and

the “call this thing off ” ship sailed away, sank, and was never heard from again.

He let go of Jude’s shirt and wrapped his arms around

him, and Jude did the same. With no one else here, no chance

of getting caught, they didn’t hold back anymore. They kissed

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like they were hell-bent on making up for lost time—deeply,

frantically, breathlessly, bodies rubbing together and hands all over each other.

He pulled Jude back a step, then another, until they’d

stumbled and shuffled their way to the other side of his tiny

apartment. There, he dragged Jude down onto his sad excuse

for a bed. It was smal , but it would do—all he needed was

enough room to get as close to Jude as possible, and the tiny

mattress gave him an excuse to do exactly that. As if he needed one. And as if Jude wasn’t trying to do the same thing.

Jude pushed him onto his back and sat up over him. He

peeled off his T-shirt. Christ. He’d been slim to begin with,

and the road had still managed to shave off a pound or two,

bringing out the mouthwatering contours of his muscles. His

tattoo sleeve continued over his shoulder and down his rib

cage, and he wore shining black barbells through each nipple.

Holy fuck, he was gorgeous.

And entirely too far away.

A.J. dragged him back down, and as he kissed Jude’s neck

and ran his thumb over one of the piercings, Jude sucked in a

breath. He pushed his hands under A.J.’s shirt, and with some

effort on his part and some wriggling on A.J.’s, they managed

to get it up, off, and onto the floor where it belonged.

They pulled each other close again, kissing and panting,

and though A.J. had been skin to skin with plenty of men

before, the heat of Jude’s body against his made him dizzy.

This was all a fantasy, right? He was lying alone in his bed,

jerking off to thoughts of a half-naked Jude and a crazy kiss,

wasn’t he?

He drew in a deep breath through his nose, and a low

groan thrummed against his lips as Jude kissed him harder. He

was so caught up in how Jude kissed when he was this turned

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on, he barely noticed Jude’s hand moving until the other left

the back of his neck.

And suddenly both hands were between them.

On A.J.’s belt buckle.

Fumbling with his belt buckle.

A.J.’s lips and tongue moved of their own volition because

his brain had gone completely blank. He couldn’t remember

how to kiss. All he could think of were Jude’s hands on him.

Holy fuck.

Jude broke the kiss and started down A.J.’s neck. A.J.

squirmed under him, coming unglued from hot breath and

soft lips on his skin. His cock pushed hard against the inside

of his zipper, and no, this was no fantasy. In his fantasies, he was articulate enough to tell Jude exactly what he wanted—

clothes off, condom on—but now he was no more able to

speak than he would’ve been if his tongue were still tangled

up with Jude’s.

Fuck. He really was in bed with Jude.
Oh God.

Jude trailed light kisses down A.J.’s stomach, and every

time he exhaled, the warmth of his breath made A.J.’s head

spin faster.

When Jude pushed himself up and slid his hand over

the front of A.J.’s jeans, A.J. thought he was going to lose his mind. He pressed against Jude’s palm, wishing like hell there

were some magic word that would make clothes evaporate.

But then Jude started unbuttoning A.J.’s jeans, and

maybe that magic word wasn’t necessary after al . The sight,

the sound, the feel of Jude undoing the button and zipper—

waiting a few more seconds to be naked was well worth it now.

Jude managed to get A.J.’s belt apart and his zipper down,

and slid his hand into A.J.’s boxers and—

Fuck. Holy fuck.

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His hand was a little rough, and his grip was
strong
. Not painfully so, but the way he stroked A.J.’s dick was just . . .
fuck
.

He stroked him and kissed his neck, nearly reducing him to

tears.Jude tugged at his waistband, and A.J. lifted his hips

enough for him to slide jeans and boxers down over his

hips. Jude didn’t bother taking them all the way off—

apparently he just needed them out of the way, and now that

they were, he leaned down, and his lips closed around A.J.’s

cock, and . . .
holy fuck
.

Squeezing his eyes shut, A.J. arched off the bed. Just like

when he was onstage and didn’t think about the music, when

he just went with it, he didn’t think and didn’t analyze and

didn’t care what Jude was doing with that amazing mouth

as long as he didn’t stop. A.J. struggled to breathe, kneading

Jude’s hair and moaning things even he didn’t understand.

“Gonna . . .” He gasped for breath. “Gonna come if

you . . . keep . . .”

Jude stopped. A.J. ground out a curse, not sure if he was

frustrated that Jude had quit, or relieved that this wasn’t

over yet.

“Can’t come yet,” Jude murmured. “We still have clothes

on.” He got up, and when he went for his own belt, A.J. took

the hint. They both kicked off the last of their clothes, and

as soon as they came back together in another deep kiss, A.J.

shoved Jude onto his back and pinned him there, kissing

him hard and grinding against him. Jude whimpered, clawing

at A.J.’s shoulders. He squirmed beneath him. Fuck. He was

too . . . This was so . . . He wanted . . . He needed . . .

A.J. had a million fantasies he wanted to live out tonight,

and he wanted to make this thing last as long as he could

before they both came to their senses, but he was too turned

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on to worry about time management or consequences or

coming sooner than later. He wanted to fuck Jude, and he

wanted to fuck him
right now
.

He reached for the condoms he’d left on the nightstand,

but Jude stopped him with a hand on his hip. He tugged

gently, as if to draw him back, and then guided him up so

A.J. was straddling his chest. He lifted his head and started

sucking A.J.’s cock again, enthusiastically teasing him with his lips and tongue.

A.J. steadied himself with a hand on the headboard and

rocked his hips, sliding his cock in and out of Jude’s mouth.