18. Moon
18
MOON
T he morning light spilled through the living room windows, soft and golden, casting long shadows across the coffee table and tangled blankets. I blinked slowly, the hazy warmth of sleep still clinging to me, and realized my head was resting on Conrad’s chest. His breathing was steady, his arm loose around my waist, and my leg was draped over his, our bodies enfolded like we’d been made to fit together. The soft thump of his heartbeat under my ear was grounding, almost hypnotic.
I shifted slightly, the weight of the blanket sliding off my shoulders, and caught a glimpse of the others. Across from us on the sectional, Hendrix was curled up behind Holden, with an arm draped casually across Holden’s chest. Holden’s hand rested lightly over Hendrix’s forearm, their bodies relaxed and at ease in the quiet intimacy of the morning.
For a moment, I didn’t want to move, afraid to disturb the fragile stillness of the room. But as I turned my head, my eyes met Hendrix’s, his blue gaze sharp despite the slow haze of waking up. He gave me a faint smile, soft and crooked, and carefully lifted his arm from Holden’s chest. His movements were deliberate, quiet, as he untangled himself and slid out from behind him.
I followed his lead, gently peeling myself away from Conrad. He stirred briefly, his brow furrowing, but didn’t wake. I tucked the blanket around him, letting my hand linger for a moment before I stood and padded after Hendrix, leaving the room behind.
The hallway felt cooler, the morning air fresh against my skin as Hendrix turned back to glance at me. “I’m gonna grab a shower,” he said, his voice low so as not to disturb the others.
I leaned against the wall, stretching slightly, the tension in my limbs easing with the movement. “Want company?” I asked, keeping my tone light but flirty.
He hesitated, just for a second, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly before he nodded. “Sure. If you’re up for it.”
“Of course,” I said with a small smile, falling into step behind him as we headed upstairs.
Hendrix led the way upstairs, his bare feet padding softly on the hardwood, the hem of his sweats hanging low on his hips. I trailed behind, my eyes catching on the way his back muscles shifted with each step, his tattoos dancing with the motion. I’d been in his room once before, but I hadn’t taken the time to really see it. That night had been a blur of hands and mouths, an electric tumble into bed. This time, I was slower, more aware of the space.
Hendrix’s room was like stepping into his personality—creative, laid-back, and a little chaotic. A vibrant painting hung over the bed, its rich blues and greens swirling in abstract waves. Guitars leaned against every corner, some polished and well- loved, others scratched and battered from years of use. The walls were a collage of concert posters and framed vinyl records, a testament to his life as a musician. His nightstand, predictably, was a bit cluttered, an empty mug, a pile of notebooks, and a mess of loose sheet music. It felt alive, like it had been shaped by the rhythms of his energy.
He stopped in front of the bathroom, holding the door open for me with a crooked grin. “After you.”
The bathroom was simple but warm, the tiles a soft slate gray, and the shower a spacious glass enclosure that could easily fit two. A line of products cluttered the shelf—practical, unassuming, but with the faint, earthy scent of cedarwood and sea salt.
I turned back to find Hendrix already pulling his shirt over his head. The sight hit me harder than I expected, even though I’d seen him like this before. His sun-brushed skin glowed in the soft light, faint freckles scattered across his shoulders and upper back like constellations. The muscled lines of his body were all rhythm and movement, flexing subtly as he tossed the shirt onto a chair.
My gaze traced the ink all over his back of intricate designs that seemed to ripple with him—the treble clef unraveled into crashing waves, jasmine flowers and ivy framed a vintage turntable, the delicate blooms softening the hard lines, the Charleston skyline blended into the pier at Folly Beach, its lines abstract but unmistakable.
As he turned around, he caught me looking and grinned, “You’re staring, Moon.”
“Can you blame me?” I said, letting my eyes linger on the swirl of ink wrapping down his chest and then lower to where the art dipped below his waistband. It was bold, intimate, impossible to ignore.
His laugh was low, almost shy, as he stepped out of his sweats, leaving him completely bare. Hendrix’s body was carved art. I couldn’t help but stare at the thick muscled V leading down his groin where the swirl of ink stopped. His cock hung long and already semi hard, framed by neatly kept dark hair.
“Ya gonna join me?” he coaxed as he stepped into the shower and turned on the water.
I started undressing, peeling off my shirt and sliding out of my leggings, the cool air brushing against my skin. Hendrix watched me through the steam beginning to rise from the shower, his deep blue eyes trailing over me with heat. I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over me as he turned to face me fully, the moment stretching between us.
“Why’d you look so surprised downstairs?” I asked, letting the spray soak my curls.
“What do you mean?” he said, his grin faltering slightly as he adjusted the water’s temperature.
“When I asked if you wanted company,” I said, stepping closer. “You looked…I don’t know. Caught off guard.”
Hendrix hesitated, his hand running through his hair as the water slicked it against his head. “I guess I didn’t think you were all that into me,” he admitted. “I mean, just by myself.”
I blinked, his words throwing me off balance. “Why would you think that?”
“You’re into Conrad. I saw you two earlier—it was obvious how into each other you are. And you and Holden have this whole emotional literary thing going on. I just figured I was the fun one. Part of the group, you know?” His smile was faint, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes that made my chest ache.
The water poured over us, the warmth soaking into my skin as Hendrix stood in front of me, his shoulders tense and his hands gripping the ledge of the shower shelf. The steam blurred the edges of the room, but not enough to hide the way his back flexed—thick muscle shifting under slick, golden skin, each ridge and groove tightening like a drawn bowstring. His broad shoulders lifted with a slow inhale, tension rippling down his spine, coiling deep in the cut of his lower back. He wasn’t looking at me, his eyes fixed on some distant point, and I could feel the weight of unspoken words hanging between us.
“I’m into you, Hendrix,” I said softly, my fingers brushing along his forearm. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like…like you were just along for the ride.”
He let out a soft, harsh laugh, his gaze dropping to where my hand rested against his skin. “That’s exactly what I thought,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that you were way more into Conrad and Holden. That I was just…extra. Like I was there for convenience.”
My chest tightened, and I stepped closer, letting my other hand settle lightly on his hip. “You’ve been jealous?”
He exhaled sharply, his shoulders lifting slightly before dropping again. “Yeah. It’s stupid, I know. I just—I’ve been crushing on you since that night we performed together. I can’t stop thinking about it, about you. But then I see the way you look at them, and I feel like an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot,” I said firmly, my hands sliding up his sides. “And for the record, I’ve been thinking about you since that night too.”
He turned his head to look at me, his blue eyes wide and a little disbelieving. “You have?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice steady. “You were amazing, Hendrix. The way you played—it was like you already knew exactly what I was going to do before I did it. Every time I shifted tone or changed melody, you were right there, adjusting like we’d been doing it for years.”
He let out a breath, his expression softening slightly. “That’s because I couldn’t stop watching you. The way you lose yourself when you’re performing—it’s like you’re in your own world, and the rest of us are just lucky to orbit around it.”
My cheeks warmed at the sincerity in his voice, but I didn’t look away. “You kept up with me perfectly. You didn’t just follow—you elevated it. I felt like I could take risks because I knew you’d catch me.”
His laugh was softer this time, almost shy. “I was trying to not make a fool of myself — or you — because I was fucking bewitched listening to you.”
“I felt the same about our performance. You said right after that we made magic. And I felt it too. But beyond that, with the guys, you were never just there for the ride,” I said, my voice firm. “I want to be here. With you.”
His eyes searched mine for a long moment, the vulnerability there so raw it made my chest ache. Then he let out a shaky breath and leaned forward, pressing his forehead against mine. “You really mean that?”
“Every bit.” My hand slid down, brushing against his hip, my touch lingering, like I was tracing the shape of something I already knew belonged to me. “I’ve wanted you, Hendrix. I’ve wanted this.”
I leaned in, brushing my lips lightly against his jaw, feeling the faint stubble there catch on my skin. My hand moved lower, tracing the carved lines of his muscles, and his body shuddered under my touch. “You’re sexy, charismatic, irresistible,” I whispered, my fingers ghosting over the base of his cock. “I hope you know that.”
“Keep telling me,” he said, his voice raw. “And I might actually start to believe you.”
Hendrix groaned as I stroked him, his cock heavy and solid in my hand. The weight of it was startling, the sheer length making me wonder how I’d manage to fit him inside me.
My fingers glided down his shaft, tracing the thick ridge where his head flared, slick and swollen from the water and his arousal.
“When your fingers press just under the head like that—it’s like you’re tracing fire over me,” he said, his voice raw and strained. “I can feel every ridge pulling tight, like you’re dragging me right to the edge.”
I smirked faintly, letting my thumb brush just below his tip before sliding back down, squeezing gently as I reached the base. His hips jerked forward, his cock twitching in my hand. “I think you like being teased.”
“It’s more like the sweetest torture,” he panted, his hands gripping my hips as though he needed something to hold on to. His head tilted forward, his lips brushing against my temple.
Before I could respond, he kissed me, rough and demanding, his teeth scraping against my lower lip. His hands slid lower, gripping my ass as he lifted me effortlessly. My back pressed against the cool tile wall, and my legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, locking him in place.
I felt the tip of his cock press against me, nudging at my entrance, and I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders. “You’re huge,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I don’t know how you think this is all going to fit.”
Hendrix groaned, his forehead pressing against mine. “You’re so wet, baby,” he said, his voice thick. “I’ll slide in slowly.”
He nudged forward slowly, my folds swallowing the head of his cock, as he pushed another inch or two inside me, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. “Fuck,” I gasped, the pressure and fullness making my body tremble. “I feel full already,” I let out a throaty laugh. “And we’ve got a long way to go.”
He didn’t stop, his hips rocking gently as he pushed slowly forward until he was fully seated inside me. “Look at us,” he said, his voice low but firm.
I glanced down, and the sight sent a shiver through me. His cock was buried to the hilt, his hips flush against mine, and the stretch was overwhelming, almost too much. But when I shifted my hips, rolling them experimentally, the sharp ache turned into something else entirely.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his fingers digging into my thighs. “When you do that…it’s like you’re squeezing me, pulling me in even tighter.”
His hands moved between us, and his thumb found my clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. The pressure built quickly, heat pooling low in my stomach as his cock pulsed inside me. He drew back slowly, the thick length of him dragging against my walls, leaving me gasping. Only the tip of him remained inside, and he held there for a moment, the stretch and teasing pressure making me squirm.
“Stay still,” he said, his voice a low growl. “I want you to feel every inch of me when I thrust back in.”
He slammed forward, filling me completely in one smooth motion, and I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders. Now his rhythm was relentless—slow, deep strokes that left me clenching around him with every retreat and return. “Oh god,” he groaned, his forehead dropping to my shoulder. “The way your pussy grips me, it’s like you’re choking me every time I move.”
“Hendrix,” I sucked in a ragged breath, my voice faltering as his thrusts grew harder. “Fuck, I’m getting close. Rub me fast. You’re going to make me come.”
His thumb quickened on my clit as he angled his hips to hit deeper. “I want to feel you lose it on me.”
The tension inside me snapped, and I shattered, my walls clenching around him in pulsing waves that made my entire body tremble. “Hendrix!” I cried, my nails leaving faint crescents on his shoulders as I shuddered in his arms.
“Fuck, I can feel you,” he groaned, his thrusts stuttering. “You’re pulsing so hard it’s milking my cock. I can’t—fuck—I’m?—”
He thrust into me one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his cock jerked, spilling hot inside me. His head fell to my shoulder, his breath ragged and uneven as his body trembled against mine. “Moonshine,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over my collarbone. “If this is the first taste, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.”
We stayed like that for a moment, the water cascading over us, his arms still holding me securely. Slowly, he set me down, his hands sliding to my waist to steady me as I leaned against him, my breath still uneven. My legs felt shaky, but the warmth of his body against mine kept me balanced.
Hendrix pressed a kiss to my wet hair, lingering before he pulled back slightly to meet my eyes. “We need to do it again,” he said, his voice low, but the edge of humor was unmistakable.
I raised an eyebrow, a wicked smile pulling at my lips. “You ready for another round so soon?” I stared pointedly at his softening dick.
He laughed, his grip on my waist tightening slightly. “Fair point,” he admitted, his grin easy and unguarded. “But I was talking about music. I want to play with you again. Let’s practice something together.”
I smiled, the warmth in his voice settling over me. “I’d love that. Just as soon as I get through my next show.”
“Show?” His brows lifted in curiosity. “What are you doing?”
“ Cabaret .” I tilted my head toward the water to rinse my arms. “It’s a musical set in Berlin about people trying to survive and live freely as the world falls apart around them.”
“ Cabaret ,” he repeated, his lips quirking. “That sounds sexy.”
“Well,” I said with a laugh, “the Nazi World War Two part isn’t sexy, but the nightclub scenes definitely are.”
He grinned at that, his eyes lighting with curiosity. “What’s your role?”
“I’m one of the Kit Kat Girls,” I said, reaching for the soap again. “We’re part of the ensemble, so there’s a lot of singing and dancing. And the costumes? Let’s just say they’re mostly lingerie. Black garters, a little corset, stockings—the whole vibe is sultry and decadent.”
Hendrix’s gaze traveled over me like he was already picturing it. “Well fuck me,” he exhaled. “The boys and I are definitely coming to see this, Kit Kat.”
I glanced at him, a shy smile tugging at my lips. “My parents aren’t able to make it,” I said softly. “I have their tickets if…if you’d want them.”
His grin softened, his hand sliding up to brush a strand of hair from my cheek. “I’d like that a lot, Moon.”
“Okay,” I murmured, my cheeks warming under his gaze. “They’re yours.”
We stepped out of the shower, the cool air of Hendrix’s room prickling against my skin as I wrapped the towel around me. Hendrix moved to the cluttered nightstand in his room, rifling through a drawer for something to wear. His towel hung low on his hips as he pulled out a tee shirt and sweats for both of us.
A knock at the door startled me, and Hendrix shot me a quick look before calling out, “Come in.”
The door creaked open, and Holden poked his head inside, his cheeks faintly pink. “Hey, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said quickly, his eyes flicking between us, lingering on Hendrix’s glistening body.
“You’re not interrupting.” Hendrix’s voice was casual as he leaned against the dresser. “What’s up?”
Holden stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He looked a little uncomfortable, his gaze darting toward me and then away, like he wasn’t sure where to settle it. “I just…didn’t feel like being downstairs alone,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “Conrad went for a run and?—”
“Then don’t be,” Hendrix said, turning back to his drawer and pulling out a pair of black boxers. Without hesitation, he dropped the towel, standing completely naked as he tugged them on. Holden’s face flushed red, and I couldn’t help but smile at his reaction.
“What?” Hendrix said, smirking as he caught Holden’s gaze. “Not like you haven’t seen my dick before.”
Holden’s laugh was soft, almost nervous. “Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting it right now.”
Hendrix rolled his eyes, pulling the waistband of his boxers into place. “You’re the one who walked in.”
I grinned, sitting down on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in my towel. “What exactly happened between you two at The Silver Vine ?” I asked, my voice curious but edged with heat. “I keep hearing hints that allude to it, but no one’s told me the full story.”
Hendrix shot Holden a look, and Holden shifted awkwardly, his hands sliding into his pockets. “You want to tell her?” Hendrix asked, his tone teasing.
Holden hesitated, his gaze flicking to me. “It’s not that interesting,” he said, his voice barely above a mumble.
“Let me be the judge of that.” I leaned back on my hands, my smile widening. “Come on, spill.”
Hendrix laughed, sitting beside me on the bed. “Fine. We 69ed,” he said bluntly, glancing at Holden. “In one of the private rooms. It was his idea, actually.”
Holden groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Don’t say it like that,” he muttered. “You make it sound…”
“Hot?” I interjected, my voice playful. “Because it is. You two went down on each other? That’s fucking sexy.”
Holden’s ears turned red, and he looked away, but there was a flicker of something in his expression—maybe pride. “It just…happened,” he said after a moment. “I don’t even know how to explain it. We were messing around, and then…yeah.”
I bit my lip, the image of them together filling my mind. “God, I wanna see that.” My voice was soft but edged with heat. They both turned to look at me, their expressions shifting in unison.
“What?” Holden asked, his voice catching slightly.
“Will you do it again?” I slipped my towel open as I leaned back on the bed. My fingers trailed lightly over my stomach, edging lower, and both of their gazes followed the motion. “In front of me.”
Hendrix’s smirk widened, and he glanced at Holden. “What do you say, bro? Think you’re up for a repeat performance?”
Holden swallowed hard, his gaze darting between me and Hendrix. “You’re serious?” he asked, his voice low.
“I’m dead serious. I want to watch you. Both of you. I’m already wet again just thinking about it.”
Hendrix shifted onto the bed first, his body stretched out confidently, his tattoos flexing along his skin, his grin practically predatory as he turned to Holden. “Well? You heard her. Let’s give her a show.”
Holden hesitated for only a second before climbing onto the mattress, his movements slower, less sure, but his arousal unmistakable. He had a noticeable bulge in the front of his grey sweats that made me mentally drool.
“Get up here.” I reached out to trail my fingers along Holden’s arm. His skin was warm under my touch, his muscles taut as he settled beside Hendrix, the mattress dipping under his weight. “Start slow. I want to see you kiss him.”
Holden exhaled, his gaze locking with Hendrix’s. Slowly, he leaned in, his movements tentative at first, but Hendrix met him halfway, their lips brushing softly before deepening. The sight of them kissing was mesmerizing—the way Holden’s hand slid to the back of Hendrix’s neck, grabbing his dark curls and pulling him closer.
“Good,” I said softly, my voice encouraging. I leaned closer, letting my fingers graze the edge of Holden’s shirt before slipping beneath it. “Touch him, Holden. Don’t hold back.”
Holden’s hand moved to Hendrix’s broad chest, thumbing his nipple which pebbled beneath the touch. Hendrix responded immediately, shifting closer, his hand slipping down to rest on Holden’s thigh. The kiss deepened, their mouths opening as their tongues began to explore, and I felt my own breath quicken at the sound of their muffled groans.
“You look so fucking good together,” I murmured, sliding my towel off completely. The cool air brushed against my skin, but the heat between us was more than enough to keep me warm. “Keep going. I want to see you lose yourselves.”
Hendrix broke the kiss first, his lips swollen and his grin wicked as he glanced over at me. “You’re enjoying this a little too much,” he joked, but his voice was rough, his arousal evident.
“You have no idea.” My fingers trailing over my stomach, edging lower as I watched them.
Holden leaned in further, his lips brushing against the curve of Hendrix’s neck. I saw him swipe his tongue up Hendrix’s neck, then biting the skin and sucking it enough to leave a mark. The angle exposed the strong line of Hendrix’s jaw, and the sound he made—a low, guttural moan—sent a shiver through me. Holden’s hand slid lower, resting on Hendrix’s hip, and I couldn’t help but reach out, letting my fingers trace the edge of Hendrix’s thigh.
“So what do you want next, Moon?” Holden asked, pulling off from Hendrix’s tender neck.
“I want you both naked.” I leaned in to press a kiss to Hendrix’s shoulder before trailing my fingers to the waistband of Holden’s sweats. “Let me help you both.”
I tugged lightly at Holden’s shirt, urging him to take it off. He obeyed, his movements growing more assured with every second. His chest was broad and sculpted, his skin flushed with arousal, and I couldn’t help but run my fingers along his abs as he leaned back into Hendrix.
Hendrix pulled Holden closer, their lips finding each other again, and I moved to sit behind them, my hands roaming freely. One hand slipped to Hendrix’s chest, thumbing his nipple, while the other slid to Holden’s side, tracing the edge of his tattoo. Their groans mingled with my soft laughter, the sound of their pleasure a melody I couldn’t get enough of.
“How about I take care of you first,” Hendrix posed to Holden. “Since someone thought I might need a bit of time before round two.” He laughed and rolled his eyes at me. “My dick seems pretty eager for Holden though, not gonna lie.”
Hendrix shifted toward the end of the bed while Holden leaned back between my legs.
“Mmm, this view is amazing. Best seat in the house,” I said, looking down Holden’s toned chest and abs, further down to his cock jutting up rigid and ready, and Hendrix hovering just above it.
Hendrix didn’t wait. He leaned in, wrapping his hand around Holden’s cock to steady it before dragging his tongue up the shaft, from the base to the head. Holden let out a sharp, stuttering gasp, his body tensing as Hendrix teased the tip, flicking his tongue into the slit, collecting the bead of slickness there before swirling it around the ridge. “You’re so hard already,” Hendrix graveled, his voice rough before he took Holden’s cock into his mouth, sucking him wet and merciless and then sinking down in one smooth motion.
Holden groaned, his hips twitching as he tried to stay still. But Hendrix wasn’t gentle—his free hand slid down to cup Holden’s balls, rolling them experimentally before tightening his grip. Holden sucked in his breath, his back arching slightly into me, and his hand flew to the sheets, curling them into his fist.
“Fuck,” Holden panted, his voice breaking. “That feels—perfect.”
But Hendrix wasn’t done. He pulled back just enough to lick the head with the flat of his tongue again, his lips swollen and wet. The wet sounds of Hendrix licking and sucking Holden filled the room—messy, hungry, unrelenting. Hendrix’s hand slid to Holden’s balls again, his fingers toying with them as he hollowed his cheeks, taking Holden deeper. Holden’s cock twitched visibly, the veins along its length pulsing as Hendrix’s tongue dragged over the underside, lingering on the sensitive ridge just below the head.
Then he sucked harder, his lips sealing tightly as he let his tongue press firmly into Holden’s slit, teasing his crown. Holden’s reaction was immediate—a sharp gasp, his hips jerking forward as he swore under his breath.
“Jesus Christ,” Holden groaned, his voice ragged. “I’m not—fuck, I can’t?—”
But Hendrix wasn’t letting up. He kept working Holden’s cock, his free hand sliding lower, tracing the sensitive spot just behind Holden’s balls. Holden let out a choked sound, his legs trembling as Hendrix pushed him further.
“You’re so fucking good at this,” Holden panted. “You’re going to make me come.”
“I can feel you shaking.” My own breath hitched as I watched them. “And Hendrix—you look like you’re starving for it. Don’t stop.”
Hendrix growled low in his throat, his body stiffening as he sucked Holden harder, his hand stroking the base while his tongue flicked against the ridge. Holden gasped, his whole body going rigid as his cock pulsed violently.
“I’m gonna—fuck!” Holden cried out, his hips jerking uncontrollably as his orgasm hit. He spilled hot and thick into Hendrix’s mouth, and Hendrix groaned, swallowing him down, his throat working visibly as he took every drop.
When Hendrix collapsed onto the bed, both of them panting and flushed, I was so turned on I’m sure my pussy was drenched. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” I exhaled, shifting slightly, feeling the slick heat between my thighs.
“Glad you enjoyed it.” Hendrix flashed me a wolfish grin. “We’ve got a standing ticket with your name on it.”
“As soon as I’m back in the land of the living, I’m coming over to return the favor, bro,” Holden gasped. “You sucked my soul out.”
“Hell yeah, brother. But you should bliss out for a few. I’m going to run down and get us coffee and you can star in the next show.” Hendrix threw on his sweats and headed downstairs while I leaned back against the pillows, Holden in my arms, in awe that this was my life now.