Page 22 of Patchwork
Iwantedtomakeit to Onyx’s show, but I just couldn’t work my schedule out to get down to Chicago in time. He didn’t seem too bothered when I texted him to tell him I wouldn’t get here until after the concert though. He just told me to pull around to the back entrance. So, that’s exactly what I do. Weaving around the hordes of fans leaving the venue, I ride my bike around to the back of the building.
Part of me still doesn’t quite believe that Onyx texted me to get together again. After three months of radio silence, I’d chalked that night in Milwaukee up to a hot memory and done my best to put it behind me.
The building is massive, and I’m not exactly sure what he meant by the “back entrance” when this place has at least a dozen entrances. But then I spot a loading dock and movement catches my eye. The emergency exit door is sitting half-open, and as soon as I pull up close, I spot Onyx sitting on the crackedconcrete step, blocked from view by the dumpsters. My heart jumps into my throat.
He drums his fingers on his thigh, but as soon as he sees me, he goes still and sits up a little straighter. The smile that spreads slowly over his face matches exactly how I feel. Giddy, hopeful, in total fucking awe that this moment is even real. I roll to a stop and tug my helmet off.
“You came,” Onyx says, like he thought I might not show.
I chuckle and hold the helmet out to him.
“Of course I came. What kind of idiot ignores a booty text from the hottest rockstar alive?”
His eyes dance with amusement. “I have a room at the Hilton a few blocks away.”
The blood heats in my veins and I can feel the smolder in my eyes as I drag my gaze over him, taking him in and maybe checking to see if he got any more ink since I saw him last. It doesn’t look like he did, but I’ll have to do a more thorough check once we’re at the hotel. I wish I had my equipment with me now, so I could give him another tattoo, mark his skin and leave another reminder of myself that will never wash off.
“What are we waiting for then? Hop on.” I jerk my head towards the space behind me on my Harley.
Onyx snatches the helmet from me, shoves it on, and hops onto the back of my bike. He wraps his arms around me, and I kick it back into gear and tear out of the parking lot. I don’t know if his bandmates or anyone else know where he is or where he’s going, but it feels like an escape. I didn’t tell the guys where I was going this weekend, just that I wouldn’t be around. And if it’s up to me, we’ll spend the next forty-eight hours holed up in his hotel room, pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
When we get to the hotel, I leave my bike in the parking garage, and we head inside. Onyx stays close to me, keeping his head ducked low to avoid being recognized. As soon as theelevator doors slide closed behind us, he visibly relaxes. He leans against the back wall and lets out a breath, my helmet hanging from one hand as he drags the other through his hair.
All I can think about is the last time we were in an elevator together. For the first month after that hookup, I probably jerked off to the memory of his hot mouth on mine and the feeling of his tight hole clenching around my cock when he came at least a hundred times. But the more time went by, the more I started to believe I wouldn’t hear from him again, so I stopped letting myself think about it. Now here he is, within touching distance, his lips damp from the drag of his tongue and the slight musk of sweat on his skin from being on stage for hours.
I close the space between us, pressing my body up against his, the way I haven’t let myself think about wanting to for the past eight weeks. His half-hard cock finds mine through our clothes and his warm breath dances over my lips.
“Hey,” he murmurs, tilting his chin in invitation.
“Hey,” I whisper back, tangling my fingers in his hair and grinning.
I nibble his bottom lip, and Onyx sighs, thrusting against me and sliding his free hand under my shirt to tease his calloused fingertips over my belly.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he says, circling his thumb around my belly button.
The tease of his touch goes straight to my cock, making me ache for this elevator to hurry the fuck up so I can have him naked and writhing underneath me. It lurches to a stop and the doorswhooshopen behind me. I reluctantly peel myself off of Onyx and we hurry down the hall to his room.
Inside, he sets my helmet down on the luggage rack near the door and we both toe off our shoes.
“I need a shower,” he announces, tugging his shirt over his head and dropping it on the floor.
My eyes linger momentarily on the barbells through each of his nipples, then wander to the spiderweb I tattooed on his shoulder. A feeling of unjustified possession rumbles deep in my gut when I don’t see any fresh ink on his skin. He flicks open the button on his jeans and starts to wiggle them off too. The long, thick shape of his hard cock strains his skimpy black briefs as he kicks his pants aside just as carelessly as he tossed his shirt.
“Are you coming?” He smirks as he backs into the bathroom and flips on the light.
“If that’s an invitation, then hell yeah.” I grip the bottom of my shirt and tug it off, shedding my clothes just as quickly as he did as I stumble after him.
Onyx’s briefs are pooled in the middle of the tile floor, his round ass mouthwateringly bare as he leans into the shower to turn the water on. I strip out of the last of my clothes and cross the few feet of space to press myself up against his back, my stiff cock notching into the crease between his cheeks.
“I’ve been tryingnotto think about you,” I say, in a delayed response to what he said in the elevator before the doors opened. “Because when I let myself, I just spent all day with my hand on my cock, replaying the memory of your moans over and over again.”
I wrap my hand around the base of his thick shaft and give him a slow stroke, loose enough just to tease the ladder of piercings. Onyx whimpers and leans into me, letting his head fall back against my shoulder. His hair tickles my skin, and the tempting line of his throat begs for my tongue.
“Yeah, I’m familiar with that problem too,” he says with a hoarse laugh before tugging me into the shower.
The hot water cascades over both of us, and Onyx spins around to face me without putting any space between us, trapping our bare cocks up against each other, every one of hisbarbells pressing into the tender skin of my shaft. And for the first time in three months, our mouths find each other again.
I groan into the kiss, the sound coming from an aching place deep in my gut, full of longing and need that I’ve managed to repress since the moment I woke up alone after that one wild night. He echoes the hungry noise, the sound muffled around my tongue, and his greedy hands slide all over my wet body. I grab his ass and grind against him in earnest, licking between his lips to stroke his tongue with mine. He smiles against my mouth and thrusts back, the heads of our cocks catching against each other.
