Page 4 of No Rhyme or Riesling

Adam still wasn't sure what made him decide to stop there for good. Paso Robles looked like nowhere. Just another Anytown, USA. Regardless, when the band got up the next morning and got ready to continue on, Adam felt a sudden urge to stay right where he was.

It was a rough parting, leaving the band without a lead vocalist. Still, it was for the best. Adam knew he was dragging down the band's energy with his grief. After a long argument, the band headed off to Santa Barbara and who-knew-where else, and Adam stayed in Paso Robles and slowly but surely built a new life for himself.

Maybe it was fate.

Over the years, Adam and the band ultimately reconciled over the phone, but he had no intention of leaving the town he now called home. Then, this past Christmas, the band's latest singer had gotten sick, so they needed someone to fill in. Despite the show being back in Idaho—a mere short drive from his old hometown—Adam had jumped at the chance to perform again. To be in front of a mic again? With a real audience? He hadn't been able to resist.

And it had beenamazing. Adam did a little dance about his kitchen, still singing along to his phone as he recalled the pure bliss of being on a stage. It was a small one, but it had been enough. It was the first time in years that he'd felt that kind of high.

It was also the first time in years that he'd laid eyes on John.

Adam gasped.Speaking of John!He ran back to his bedroom and scanned it again, making sure nothing was out of place. He'd gotten better at being tidy since he and John had gotten together—always hearing John's voice in his head, telling him to actuallyput things where they belonged—but sometimes he slipped. Especially after a long week of not getting to see the man.

A tingle ran through him when he saw how clean his room looked. John would be so proud.

The timer went off in the kitchen. Adam grinned as he raced across the apartment, snatching up a pair of potholders when he reached the oven. He pulled out the lasagna, then quickly set it aside when he heard a knock at the front door.

John!Adam kicked the oven shut and ran for the door. He yanked it open, a big grin on his face as he took in the sight of the man standing there.

Oh fuck. John looked downright hungry, and not necessarily for food. The man nearly filled the doorway, his tall frame and broad shoulders making Adam feel tiny. And helovedthat feeling. There was nothing sexier than having John manhandle him just because he could.

John stepped inside and set down his overnight bag without looking, his gaze raking over Adam instead. He blindly pushed the door shut behind himself, then lifted each foot, one at a time, to unlace his work boots and set them aside, never breaking eye contact for even a second.

Adam shivered. The whole, silent process felt almost predatory. Like John was quietly stalking his prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Adam squeezed his legs together as a flood of heat rushed to his groin, making him pulse with need.Oh fuck. If John didn't get inside him in the next thirty seconds, he thought he might die.

“Don't stop,” John said, his voice barely audible over the music.

“Stop?” Adam panted.

A soft smile pulled at one corner of John's mouth. “I heard you singing.” He grabbed Adam by the hips, hooking his fingersthrough the belt loops of Adam's jeans. “Don't stop,” John repeated. “Don't ever stop. Christ, that voice of yours…”

Adam swayed towards him. He tried to get his mouth to work, but no sound came out. How could he concentrate on singing when all his blood had rushed away from his brain, leaving him dizzy with need?

“Please,” Adam managed to whimper.

“Yes?” John asked, his warm breath ghosting over Adam's lips.

“Please,” Adam repeated, pressing closer to John and rubbing against him. He felt the hard outline of John's cock against his belly. “Hhng.”

John chuckled. “Are you rubbing yourself on Da–” John broke off and flinched, then quickly shook his head and continued, “On my cock?”

Adam winced at the abortedD-word. John knew that Adam would never be able to call himDaddy, no matter how much John wanted to hear it. And a part of Adam really wanted to say it. For John's sake. Sometimes, Adam even had trouble stopping himself from speaking the word aloud.

But then he'd hear the memory of his own voice in his head, screaming that word over and over in a hospital waiting room.

Adam's chest heaved as the panic began to set in.No, no, no, no, no!

This was happening more and more lately. He'd thought he was long-since over the grief of losing his dad. Hell, it had been nearly nine years since Dad died. He should have been well past it.

But he kept having these little moments when the grief suddenly sprang up all over again and threatened to consume him.

John grabbed Adam's head with both hands and kissed him.

Adam gave a jolt of surprise, then let out a sigh and sagged in John's arms. Somehow, that always worked. John kissing him gave his brain some kind of short-circuit that silenced all the screaming in his head. Adam grabbed John's wrists, holding on while the man dominated his mouth.

“I'm sorry,” John murmured. “I'm so sorry, baby. That was my fault. I had a hell of a day and I'm tired, so I wasn't thinking, and it almost slipped out. I'll try harder, I promise.”

Adam slowly nodded while he took a moment to catch his breath. Then John's words really caught up with him, and he looked up at the man from under his eyelashes.Hell of a day, huh?That usually meant some truly epic sex as John worked out his tension on Adam's body. “Too tired to fuck my brains out? Hell, even just a quickie before dinner gets cold?”

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