Page 50 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

Adra threw his door open and circled the hood of the car before Emerson had even unbuckled himself. Pulling his roommate’s door open, he grabbed him by the arm and tugged him from the car.

“Yeah, speaking of handy,” he growled, and shoved Em ahead of him gently. “Get moving. We don’t have all night.”

One of his infamous smirks curled his lips as he glanced over his shoulder, keys jangling as he unlocked their door.

“You sound like you want a lot more than a handy.”

Odd growled at him, readjusting his dick as he slammed and locked the front door behind them. Emerson turned to meet him head-on, and he reached up, framing Em’s shoulders with his hands, and reversed their positions, pushing him into the door.

“I do.”

“Thank fuck,” Emerson growled as he slammed his lips onto Adra’s.

Kissing an alpha like Emerson was probably just what you’d imagine it to be. A battle. Each gentle sip from his lips was earned by a sharp nip of teeth against soft flesh. When they pulled apart, breathless and aching, lips red with beard burn and bites, Adra shoved his knee between Emerson’s legs and ground the aching bulge in his pants against his hip. The rough friction made him groan, and Emerson rocked his waist forward for a mirrored pleasure.

They were roughly the same height, so as Adra sank his fingers into Emerson’s long, curly hair, he rested the back of his forearms against his shoulders, pinning him to the door. It gave him more leverage to rock his groin into his waist, while Emerson growled with frustration and tried to mimic him.

To help the poor guy out, Adra pressed his thigh higher up, giving him something to rut against.

“Are we—” Emerson spoke against his lips, and Adra pulled back to give him room. “Are we going to be doing this all tour?”

“Probably,” Adra confirmed, nodding without really knowing what he was agreeing too.

The lingering sweetness of Lyric’s scent was still strong in his nose, making his blood pump faster and his cock swell more at just the memory.

Being surrounded by her every day, living in the same small quarters—it would be hard. But thankfully Emerson was harder.

Adra dropped a hand between their bodies to unzip his pants. They’d done this so many fucking times, working out their frustration with one another, it was muscle memory.

Unfastening the button, tugging the zipper down, he shoved his hand past the waistband and took a handful of hot, hard cock and stroked. Emerson released a puff of warm air to ghost across his lips, and Odd leaned in to swallow the next one.

Em’s hips rocked forward, sliding his cock through Odd’s grip and pressing his hip into Odd’s length, still separated by the barrier of his pants.

As if Emerson realized it at the same moment Odd did, his hands dropped down through the tangle of arms and hands and fingers, and Emerson managed to free him. He pulled back from the kiss, lips chapped and parted as Emerson gripped him tight and tugged, sliding his hand up and twisting at the head before stroking down.

“We’re going to have to be quiet when we do this on tour,” Odd said, and planted his forehead on Emerson’s shoulder.

“Why?” Em groaned, not trying one bit to muffle it. “Maybe she’ll hear us, get curious, and—fuck.” He hissed as Odd shifted their hips together, knocked his hand away, and took them both in his grip.

“And what?” Adra challenged. He tore his gaze away from the view, Emerson’s dusky red cockhead peeking out of his tight grip alongside the flushed dark head of his own.

A shiver worked its way up Emerson’s spine, sending his body bucking into Odd’s touch, and he choked on a moan. Adra slowed the strokes and loosened his grip, though it made him clench his teeth against the need for more.

“Finish what you were saying,” he demanded in a rocky voice.

Even though it was a bad idea, envisioning tangling their lives more with Lyric’s, he couldn’t resist imagining. Maybe it wouldn’t be different if Emerson voiced it instead of him.

“If we’re loud enough, she’ll get curious,” he breathed. He rocked his head back against the door and met Adra’s gaze. “Maybe she’d be in her nest, crack open the door to ask us what the hell’s going on.”

Adra stroked a little faster as he kept talking through the hitch in his chest and the tense of his abs.

“We’d stop her in her tracks. Do you think she’s ever watched gay porn?” he asked randomly.

Adra choked on a laugh, swallowing it for a moan as he envisioned her teasing herself, drenching the room in that sweet honey scent as her moans mixed with those on screen.

He didn’t bother with an answer, but Emerson continued with another groan. “What if she wanted to join?”

“Fuck,” Adra bit out.