Bad Habit, page 17
The traffic at the bar was down to the last few people determined to end their night passed out in vomit. He leaned toward Chai’s ear.
“Spare me for a smoke break?”
“As long as you’re back in five for the last rush. You know it’s raining?” She jerked her chin toward the front window.
“Whatthefuckever.”
LIAM EASED himself down onto the van floor and took the handful of fast-food napkins Reeve shoved at him.
The napkins cleared away the sweat and rain, but he was still shaking and nauseous.
“That was fucking awesome.” Dev pounded Liam on the shoulder before moving on to Reeve. At least Dev had enough sense to not put a hand on Mac.
“What the fuck?” Dev went on. “Did that really just fucking happen?”
“Weren’t you there?” Mac asked dryly.
“Dude. Fuck. Dude.” Dev kept on ranting and alternatively thumping on the backs of the seats, Reeve, and Liam.
Liam tried to find the anchors the therapist had talked about. Rough recycled paper napkin across his face. Check. The sound of Dev celebrating. Check. Smell of rain and pot and sweat and metal and fire—no. He moved the napkin closer to his nose. No fire. Just because the frenetic riffs Reeve had woven into the end of the encore reminded Liam of that out-of-control slew of the jeep, the sickening lurch, and the fanatic leer on Ross’s face as he twisted the wheel….
Not real. Just music. Just some hard-core jams that felt like they were slipping into chaos. He’d never rehearsed them because he just wasn’t that good on guitar yet. He pressed the napkin into his nose and mouth.
“Dude.” Dev gripped the back of Liam’s neck and shoved him toward the back door. “Liam, don’t heave in the van.”
Liam pulled away. “I’m not. It’s just fucking hot.”
“Panic attack. This’ll help.” Mac handed him a freshly lit pipe.
“I’m fine.” But he took a hit. At least it slowed his breathing.
“Hang on. It’s out.” Mac leaned over with her lighter. “You really okay?” she murmured.
“Yeah, thanks.”
He was surprised to realize he was. The sickening sensation had faded. Now if he could just stop sweating.
“It’s cool.” Reeve let out a deep breath. “It was pretty wild.”
“We’re going out, right?” Dev said. “We gotta go out. After-party or something.”
“Even you could probably get laid tonight.” Mac took her pipe back.
Dev was in such a good mood he only laughed. “Damn straight. Uh—no offense, Liam.”
“Fuck.” Liam scrabbled for the phone in his pocket. What if Scott had texted him back? He couldn’t be mad about what Liam had told his mom. Scott was the one who suggested they keep things on the downlow. But there was nothing. “Fuck,” he said again.
“You coming with?” Reeve nudged Liam.
“Thanks. I’ve got other plans.” I hope. He was about to stuff the phone back into his pocket when it buzzed. He looked down and sighed before putting the phone to his ear. “Hi, Mom.”
Dev laughed again. “Awesome plans, old man. Have fun.”
“Hi, honey. I just wanted to tell you that Greg and I are waiting near the front door for you.”
“You good getting home, then, Li?” Reeve asked.
“Hang on a sec, Mom.” Liam tapped Mute. “I’ll be fine. See you guys Wednesday at Reeve’s, right?” He used a hand on the wheel well to shove himself to the back door and pop it open.
“Can everybody make it tomorrow instead?” Reeve said.
“Seriously?” Dev asked.
Liam had been planning on staying in the hotel—in bed—hell, balls-deep in Scott until checkout.
“Bar’s closed. We can leave all the gear and get out of here and not have to set up again.”
“Got work until closing,” Mac said.
“So later, then? Like be here by ten?”
Liam supposed their dicks might be raw by then. He hadn’t really thought much past just getting them there. “I can make it.”
“Yeah,” Mac agreed.
“I guess.” Dev shrugged. “But I’m gonna be hungover.”
It had stopped raining but the air was so wet it might as well have been. As he shut the back of the van again, he remembered Mom was still on the phone.
He unmuted her. “Sorry. We had to get some stuff settled.”
“With the band?”
Her question started the acid pump in his stomach again. Probably should have eaten something between energy drinks. The epic level of caffeine might explain how he’d gotten so freaked out.
“Yes, Mom.”
“I’m so proud of you, honey.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t know if he was walking or swimming through this humidity. Using his shirt to wipe off first his face, then his phone, he snuck a look to see if Scott had texted.
“Is something wrong?”
“No.”
“You sound distracted.”
Yeah, he should have been more grateful about the praise. And maybe it would have meant more if she’d ever shown up for anything when he’d been younger. Or if he wasn’t so focused on Scott that nothing else mattered right now.
“I’m just tired.”
“Me too, honey.” She laughed. “It’s way past my bedtime these days. Do you need to wait for the roadies to give you your guitar?”
He rubbed his face again and started walking around the side of the building to the front. The mist kept the streetlight confined to a tight bubble around the pole. After a car whooshed by on the wet pavement, he answered, “We don’t have roadies.”
He rounded the corner and stopped. The bricks were black with shadow, but a tiny light glowed as it swung through the air, brightening as someone sucked the end of a cigarette. The figure was nothing but a dark outline, but Liam would know Scott even from under a blindfold. He’d always know him.
“Mom, can I call you back?”
“No. I need to know if we’re driving you home.”
Liam’s feet pulled him toward Scott. “I’m good.”
“Greg needs to be in early for a meeting, so we’ll see you at home.”
“Uh-huh.”
The tip lit Scott’s lips as he pulled in smoke. One hand rested in the pocket of his jeans, a booted foot pressed back against the bricks. Fucking James Dean bad-boy pose, and Liam had never seen anything sexier. That was until Scott pursed his lips and blew the smoke straight up.
Liam’s mouth went as dry as if the cloud had hit his face. “Uh—I’m going out so I’m gonna be late,” he managed to get out.
“Have fun.”
Liam pocketed his phone.
“Going out, huh?” Scott took another drag. The cigarette was almost down to the filter.
“With you.”
He couldn’t have forgotten, right? This was just Scott being mad about Mom and Deon.
“That so?” Scott flicked the cigarette away. In that moment the street was quiet enough to hear the cigarette hiss in a puddle.
Liam’s breath felt like it had hissed out along with it. “You’re mad.”
Scott raised his brows like he was thinking it over, then nodded. “Well, I am breathing.”
A huffed laugh slipped past Liam’s lips. “Yeah. It is kind of your default.”
“So twenty-seven years old and still lying to your mom?”
“What the fuck? I thought that’s what you wanted?”
“Yeah, well, I’m also kind of an asshole.”
Liam’s fingertips were burning with the need for just a quick touch of Scott’s skin. He brushed his shoulder, but Scott shrugged him off.
Scott stared over Liam’s shoulder for a second. “And that’s also kind of my default.”
Chapter Nineteen
SCOTT TURNED the key and pulled it, eyeballing the mostly empty motel parking lot. For a guy down a leg, Liam could move damned fast when he wanted to. He was already unlocking the door to the room by the time Scott swung out of the car.
He popped the hood and pulled the distributor cap free of its clips, which ought to discourage anyone planning to take the Mustang for a joyride. Liam was on him as soon as Scott came through the door, and he was pathetically grateful for it, for the sensation that wiped out the need to keep his guard up. The whole goddamned surreal day had been an endless tease. First feeling so over his head with Eli’s freaky friends, then the torture of Liam up there seducing everyone with his amazing voice, to finally—Jesus—finally Chai telling them to get the hell out, she’d close alone since their eye-fucking was making her twitchy. The craving for this went deeper than any time he’d been desperate for a cigarette. Given that sometimes he’d been eyeing half-smoked butts on the sidewalk, that was pretty desperate.
It wasn’t all in his balls either. Every inch of his skin was hungry for the contact, and when Liam’s mouth crashed into Scott’s, electricity shuddered down his spine. He opened his mouth and let taste and tongue and breath fill him up. Liam drove him against the door, and Scott’s hands shot to Liam’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Fuck the bite from the doorknob stabbing into his back. Fuck the whole goddamned world. They had this.
And he was ten kinds of stupid. No matter what bullshit Scott told himself, one night was never going to be enough. All the fucker had to do was kiss him and Liam was in Scott’s blood like sweet, sweet nicotine. The rush and lust and freedom and sureness deepened with every pump of his heart.
Liam jerked back. Scott hauled him close again.
“I’d say I was impressed, but I know that’s not your dick,” Liam murmured onto Scott’s lips.
“Huh?” Scott let him go. Then he felt the hard plastic between them, well above his hip. Yeah. That would have been impressive. “It’s the distributor cap from the Mustang.” He let Liam step back, and the bumpy black cap dropped to the floor at their feet.
Scott scooped it up and put it on top of the dresser next to the TV.
One corner of Liam’s mouth lifted. “I know you love that car, but you sleep with pieces of it? Is this a security-blanket kind of thing?”
“Fuck you. I pulled the distributor cap so no one could steal it.”
“Oh.” Liam nodded, his lips now wide with his full knock-the-wind-out-of-you smile. “That’s smart.”
Scott ignored the sudden wish to wag his tail for more compliments. “So we going against the door again? Thought the whole point of this was the bed.”
“Then get your ass in one.” Liam’s smile vanished, and Scott tried to not miss it.
Instead, he yanked his T-shirt over his head and sat on the edge of the bed closest to the bathroom to take off his boots. When Scott stood to shuck his jeans, Liam ripped the covers off the bed. Scott hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers but hesitated. Liam hadn’t so much as taken off his shirt. He did pull lube and two boxes of Trojan Ultra Thins out of the small backpack he’d brought.
Scott raised an eyebrow as Liam sat, then put the lube and both boxes on the nightstand.
“Someone’s planning a big night.” Scott toed out of his socks.
“Thought we both were.”
“You think you got six rounds in you?”
Liam dropped on his back and shot a hand out to grab Scott’s thigh. Teasing fingers drifted under the thin cotton leg of his boxers, grazing the bottom of an asscheek, then moved to slide along Scott’s taint, brush his hole, thumb under his balls.
Liam’s upside-down face stared up as Scott’s dick thickened, then rose.
“I think.” Liam let out a long breath, creating an extra prickle of sensation on Scott’s skin. Liam rubbed with finger and thumb, and Scott’s knees wobbled.
“I think,” Liam said again, voice low and deliberate and echoing against Scott’s skin, “I’m gonna give it my best to get six rounds in you.”
Scott gave in and pushed his hips forward, eager for more.
“Now”—Liam pulled his hand away—“get these off so I can get my mouth on you.”
Scott dropped the boxers and spread his legs as Liam moved his head closer. He tried to lock his muscles to prepare for the first touch, but just the damp heat of Liam exhaling almost had him falling forward. Liam knew it too, the ratfucker. His cheek curved against Scott’s thigh, and a laughing breath teased his skin.
“Want to get on the bed now?” Liam asked.
“Why are you being such an asshole?” Scott climbed onto the mattress, kneeling around Liam’s head.
“Afraid you can’t handle the competition?”
Scott stretched forward to unfasten Liam’s jeans.
Liam dropped a hand to cover Scott’s. “Did a lot of sweating on stage. Might be kind of ripe.”
Scott pushed the hand away and got his own inside to grip the velvety skin. “Fucking summer in Baltimore. Who isn’t?” Scott leaned in and got a mouthwatering whiff of Liam’s dick. Yeah. There was the sex-sweat smell, but it was Liam too. Familiar and good and—Scott wrapped his lips around the head and flicked his tongue over the salty slit. Oh fuck yeah.
He hadn’t wanted to rush, but this was Liam. It was the two of them together, and there was nothing like this. No way to do anything but race toward the end so they could do it again. He started a greedy, hungry suck.
Liam gasped. He clutched Scott’s hips and dragged him down, sucking on just the tip, and if Scott’s mouth wasn’t full of dick, he’d have been begging for a little more, promising anything for just a little more heat. A little more wet. A little more tongue.
Then oh God, there it was, and Scott had to pull off to catch his breath. Liam’s laugh vibrated against his dick, and Scott growled in his throat. They knew everything about each other. They’d learned this on each other, and there was no flick, lick, or squeeze they hadn’t done on each other first. They were as competitive as hell too, so when Liam started pushing a finger in, it was on.
He went deep, lips almost to the base, and then tried to get at Liam’s balls, but the barely open jeans and tight boxer briefs got in his way. Liam didn’t cooperate at all when Scott tried to shove them off.
He lifted his head. “You planning to fuck with these on?”
Liam didn’t answer, but Scott knew him too well. Read the hesitation in Liam’s body as well as the pressure from his mouth. Scott’s balls might kill him later for it, but he swung off and flopped on his back next to Liam.
Liam looked at him then stared at the ceiling. “I’m not—” He swallowed. “—not ashamed of it.”
Yeah, right. Scott kept his mouth closed.
“There’s also… to do the skin graft for my forearm, they took a big patch from the inside of my thigh.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I wear shorts all the time, I swear. It’s just—”
Scott scrambled up and straddled Liam’s hips so they were face-to-face this time. He put his hands on Liam’s shoulders and waited until Liam looked at him. Really looked at him, not that fake “I’m listening” bullshit that fooled so many other people.
“Don’t think for one fucking second that I gave one shit about your skinny, pasty legs once I got a good look at your sweet, fat cock.” Scott dragged his palms down from Liam’s broad shoulders to his pecs. “Though I gotta say I always liked these too.” He pressed and rubbed. “Feel pretty good. How they looking these days?”
Liam’s fingers bit into Scott’s biceps. “You really are a major fucking asshole.”
“Thanks for noticing. Now will you take your pants off?”
Liam grinned. “Make me.”
As soon as the words left Liam’s mouth, Scott had him in a headlock, pinning Liam’s flesh leg by wrapping it with his own and shifting his weight on top of Liam’s chest. He and Liam had scrapped like this plenty in those two years they’d lived together. Just like back then, Liam had better upper-body strength, but Scott had had years of honing survival instinct on his side.
Scott had been quick to come to Liam’s defense, but Liam could always hold his own. First with the punks back at St. Bennie’s, and Scott was sure he’d been tough with those insurgents or whatever they were in Afghanistan right until they bombed him.
“Nice, genius.” Liam’s voice was strained. “Now how you going to get the clothes off me?”
“Could wait until you pass out.” Scott tightened his choke hold.
“You into necrophilia all of a sudden?”
Scott huffed a laugh into the side of Liam’s face and saw him shiver. “You give or do I have to get serious?”
“Serious?” Liam gasped.
“Yeah.” Scott forced Liam’s head close and, with calculated precision, tickled the back of Liam’s ear with the tip of his tongue.
Liam jerked and squirmed and threw his hips, almost bucking Scott off.
Scott did it again.
After another bout of gasping and bucking, Liam tapped out, three quick pokes on Scott’s forearm.
Scott let him go.
Liam tore off his shirt and flopped onto his side. “Cheater.”
“Since when are there rules?”
Liam rubbed his throat. “Tickling is always cheating.”
“Don’t be ticklish, then.”
“I’m going to fuck you so hard.”
“Big talk for a guy who won’t take off his jeans.”
Liam glared. And he kept on glaring as he climbed off the bed and brought his hands to his waistband. Scott stared right back.
Liam’s chest was more cut than Scott remembered it. Made Liam’s shoulders look broader than ever. Light brown hair still dusted his pecs, but there was more hair on his abs now. And damn, those abs. Scott had never seen cuts like that except in a picture. Liam must’ve been doing a lot of working out while learning how to use that leg. That made him think of Deon, but Scott shoved the thought away. Because Liam was peeling down his jeans.
