Which is why I don’t stop him from getting closer, all but plastering himself to my skin. It’s why I don’t push him away when I feel him grow hard against my thigh. It happens sometimes, it’s okay. It’s perfectly normal. It doesn’t mean anything.
But then Ari’s hard dick presses more firmly against my thigh, and he rocks once. It’s a small, uncontrolled movement born out of helplessness and desperation for comfort and security. He needs to know I’m here, and the words aren’t enough tonight.
I don’t move or breathe other than to flex my fingers on his hip—to do what, I don’t know. But I don’t make him stop. No, I guide him to rock against me again, encouraging him to take what he needs from me, until he’s shuddering against me, pressing his hot mouth against my bicep to muffle his moan.
I’m not sure what I just let happen, but the way Ari melts into me comforts me. The tension drains from his body like the tide pulling out, leaving him limp and heavy against me. His panic seems to have dissipated. His heartbeat slows. Sweat cools on his skin.
It’s not a sexual thing. He just needed to release the tension wound up inside him so he can finally rest.
It doesn’t mean anything.
Maybe it should be too much. But it isn’t. I’m as aware of the line we just crossed as I am of the hum of the bus as we roll on through the night. A line I crossed willingly, without hesitation.
Because if this is what it takes to comfort him, to keep him safe from the demons that haunt him, then that’s just what it is. There’s nothing I won’t give to Ari to protect and care for him.
I tuck his head under my chin, my arm firm around his back, holding him to me. His fingers twitch on my waist, and his breathing evens out. As he’s drifting, his sleepy, melodic voice asks me for one more thing.
“Say it again?” He whispers low against the hollow of my throat.
“I’m here, Ari. You’re not alone. I’m here.”
ONE
WILL
The slow, hypnotic beat of the music thrums through me, but it’s doing nothing for my mood tonight. Despite the fact that coming here was my idea, I’m not feeling it. Ari is nowhere to be found, avoiding me because I pissed him off again.
According to him, I’m behaving like a prudish helicopter parent. But he has no business being on some shitty hookup app meeting up with randos in seedy bars. Especially if he’s going to refuse to bring a bodyguard with him. And yes, I realize that it’s awkward to have someone follow you around and stand outside the door waiting for you to finish getting your rocks off, but that’s the price we pay for this level of fame. He could get hurt. After over three years in the limelight, shouldn’t he be used to it by now?
It’s why we come to places like this or hook up with the groupies that have been vetted by our team of bodyguards. It’s a way to get off with another person without putting ourselves in danger. Doesn’t he realize all the terrible things that could happen to him? Especially to someone as pretty as Ari Silvan.
I shake my head loose of those thoughts, thankful I won the fight this time. But now that we’re here, I don’t want to be. None of the women walking by me, however beautiful they are, are sparking my interest. I settle my attention on the dance floor instead.
Surrounded by a fog of body heat and low light, bodies writhe together in a slow, grinding motion. Jesse stands out among them the way he always does. He’s shirtless, pants undone but still hanging on his hips, sweat slicking his skin as he sways. A woman presses her bare breasts to his front, lips moving against his throat while a man in an open-front silk shirt presses tightly against his back. The guy behind him reaches around, hands roaming down to fondle Jesse’s crotch. Jesse barely reacts, just tips his head back and closes his eyes like he’s somewhere else.
I turn my head to the right and catch Naz’s eye across the room. He’s perched on the edge of a low couch, a pretty boy wearing iridescent wings draped across his lap. Naz’s expression remains flat as he flicks his eyes back to Jesse, then back at me, asking me the same question without words.
Is he sober enough?
Naz gives the smallest shake of his head, and I nod once. Neither of us moves right away, though. Jesse’s still upright and doing a convincing enough attempt at dancing. He’s still smiling that loose, unfocused smile he wears too often lately. I wonder what he took.
He’s thinner than I’ve ever seen him. Wired and exhausted all at once. Functioning just well enough that no one outside our circle sees the way he’s cracking. But the three of us do.
We’ve talked about it when he’s been too out of it to catch our concern, or he’s crashed out after the adrenaline’s worn off. We’re worried that he’s fallen too far into the habit of taking whatever pills our manager hands him. Francis always makes sure he has exactly what he needs to sleep, wake up, perk up, come down, or level out. Then there are the pills to counteract the side effects of the other pills, and they’re all swallowed down with a healthy swig of vodka and whatever else Jesse puts in his body to numb himself. He hasn’t been right since we first got signed. Maybe the pressure is too much. Or maybe we’re just hardwired to give in to temptation when ecstasy is given away so freely. Even when it doesn’t seem to be helping anymore.
Naz shifts first, gently peeling the winged boy off his lap and murmuring something in his ear. With a glance my way, he moves towards Jesse. His posture is casual and friendly, but I don’t miss Jesse’s bodyguard, Cory, peeling himself off the wall to join him. I scan the room, but I still don’t see Ari.
Standing to look for him, I steel myself for whatever I might find in any of the various theme rooms. These clubs aren’t new to us. Ari and I come to this particular establishment every time we visit New York. It’s a good place to find a distraction. Someone warm and uncomplicated. Someone who was screened and signed an ironclad NDA to so much as step through the doors.
My eyes roam as I move through the club, stopping short when I finally find Ari. My stomach drops.
Ari is on his knees at one of the leather benches, caught between two men. That’s not unusual. What’s wrong is the way the man behind him has his hand tangled into Ari’s glossy brown hair, forcing him down on the other man’s cock with rough, careless abandon. As I make my way towards them, I can hear theviolent way Ari is gagging, see the way his nails are scratching at the man in front of him to try to push him back.
Something hot and blinding floods my vision, and I act before I think too much about it. I slam into the guy behind Ari, shoving him to the floor as I tear Ari off the other man’s lap.
Ari coughs and gasps, dragging in air and choking on it. The man on the bench stands, his still hard cock waving angrily in the air as he pushes me back, screaming at me for ruining his nut, probably. I can’t hear shit over the rush in my ears.
Another body slams into me, hard enough that I stagger into Ari and almost trip over him. Turning to see the other man behind me, I swing blindly. And then it’s a chaos of shouting, fists, and bodies colliding.
