Chapter 3
The Tribeca neighborhood, New York City
One among a small crowd, Jude scrambled up the subway stairs and emerged onto the street, thankful to get away from the subterranean heat.
Not that above ground was much better. At least the air was less musty and ripe outside versus the poorly ventilated subway station under his feet.
June was usually a little less stifling, but the heat had risen quickly that summer and battered the city like it was already August.
Tightening his grip on his backpack, Jude paused beside a bodega at the corner to get his bearings.
A couple of customers shopped the boxes of fresh produce out front while an employee was busy refilling them.
He watched Jude closely, ready to pounce on a potential thief.
Jude had no plans to swipe an overpriced orange.
He just needed a second to remember which direction he was supposed to be traveling.
While he came to the city a lot, there were some areas he was less familiar with, especially in the fading light of day.
Latin pop played loudly from somewhere nearby, perhaps one of the apartments above the shop.
After he crossed the street, his steps unexpectedly synced with the rhythm until it faded from earshot.
He weaved his way through the crowded sidewalk, eyeing the occasional brick or cement facade in search of their numbers, counting them down in his head.
Cars streamed past on the street. Horns sounded, curses thrown. Folks congregated here and there, laughing or joking with their friends. Those sounds mixed with more music coming from cars and a cafe he passed.
The city was always loud, a living entity all on its own.
Jude fished out his phone and reread the text invite, confirming the address before slipping out of the throng of pedestrians. He eyed the front door of the older residential building. No doorman stood sentry. He pressed one of the buttons and was immediately buzzed through without question.
He jumped on an elevator headed for the twelfth floor. Jude bounced on his toes, his pulse quickening. He bit his lower lip, tapping his thigh with the fingers of his left hand. Lifting an arm, he took a whiff to make sure the long trek there—or his nerves—hadn’t ruined his shower.
The elevator door didn’t close, so he reached out and pressed the button to get it moving. Just before the doors finally closed, a man shoved himself through. He punched the 12 button, even though it was already lit and then turned to eye Jude.
“Man, is it hot out there,” the guy said, grinning at Jude. “Not much better in there, though.”
Jude nodded, silent, checking the guy out.
He was about Jude’s age, maybe a little older.
A couple of gray hairs peeked out amid his close-cropped, black hair, but his face didn’t have nary a line on it.
But then, melanin helped some folks hide their age better than others, so he didn’t bother guessing too hard.
He lifted the bottom of his Yankee’s tee to wipe the sheen of sweat from his face and showed off a perfect set of cut abs.
Jude’s gaydar was screaming.
After the guy lowered his shirt, his gaze took Jude in from head to toe.
“You heading to the party, too?”
“Twelve C?” Jude asked. He doubted there were two parties happening on the same floor, but figured he’d check before he accidentally said something inappropriate.
“Yeah. You been to one here before?”
“Not here, but I met the guy hosting at another one the weekend before last. He invited me.”
The stranger smiled at him. One of those smiles. The kind that screamed interest. “A friend of his invited me. I’ve never been to this one before, either.”
“Ah,” Jude said.
“You do these often?”
“Only been to two,” Jude said, his nerves getting the better of him. It was his first one flying solo.
The man smiled. “Wanna walk in together? I hate walking in alone.”
“Sure, but I’m supposed to meet up with our host once I get there,” Jude said.
“That’s fine. I wasn’t implying we had to stick together once inside,” the guy said as he scanned Jude from head to toe again, pausing below the belt on the way back up. “Although, once you’ve fucked him, you’re welcome to come find me.”
The bell dinged, and the elevator doors opened. The stranger walked out, smiling at him. “Coming?”
It was now or never.
Jude stepped out and trailed behind the stranger. There was no doubt which apartment it was. Music and muffled voices could be heard outside the door before they reached it. Once standing in front of the door, he could even hear hints of moans and groans.
Another cheap-ass apartment building with paper-thin walls.
The stranger knocked on the door. Jude took a deep, cleansing breath and stood up a bit straighter.
The door swung open, the sounds pouring out into the hall without anything to hold it back.
There was a lot of groaning and grunting.
Someone other than the host stood eyeing them, wearing nothing but a chest harness and his birthday suit.
Jude glanced past the guy, noticing bare asses and hard dicks already on display.
“Password?” the guy asked, moving to block Jude’s view.
“Ahhh… Scott invited me? He didn’t say anything about a password,” Jude said.
“Can’t let you in without the password,” the man guarding the door said.
The stranger he’d walked in with eyed Jude with a frown.
“Just fucking with you,” the guy at the door said before smiling broadly. “Come on in.”
Jude trailed in behind the guy from the elevator.
“Have fun,” he said to Jude over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.
“You, too.”
Jude scanned the apartment, checking out the action.
“Hey, handsome,” the guy who’d opened the door said as he sidled up alongside. “I’m afraid we have too many tops here. Be willing to share a bottom or you’re going to have to wait your turn.”
“I’m not a top,” Jude said.
“Really?” The guy eyed him, one brow rising. “My spidey-senses are almost never wrong. You give off top energy.”
“Dom bottom,” Jude said, lifting his chin in challenge.
The term power bottom was misunderstood by most straight folks and some in the queer community itself.
Many assumed it simply meant a bottom could take a pounding from a huge cock.
While power bottoms often could take a pounding, the keyword was power.
Control.
Jude led from the bottom role, guiding tops into doing what he wanted.
To ensure there was no mistake who was in the driver’s seat, he used Dom bottom instead.
That sometimes led to other misunderstandings—he wasn’t actively into BDSM scene—but none regarding who was in charge. And that was the important point.
“Interesting,” the man murmured, smiling wider. “Welcome.”
Jude slipped off his backpack. He quickly peeled off his t-shirt, briefs, and shorts before tossing them inside before returning the small pack over his shoulders. He left only his socks and shoes on. “Any idea where Scott is?”
“Floating around somewhere,” the guy replied as his gaze drifted from Jude’s feet to his face. He grinned. “Nice cock.”
Jude eyed the man’s smallish cock and threw out, “Yours, too,” just to be nice.
He was a bit of snob when it came to cocks, preferring big boys. Not that he hadn’t had an average cock rock his world before. Scott wasn’t all that big, but he’d taken care of Jude’s need.
Although, that might’ve been the other guy they’d been with who’d been responsible for that. In the chaos of the moment, he wasn’t exactly sure which man had done the heavy lifting—so he was there to find out if it had been Scott.
The guy at the door closed the gap between them, trailing a fingertip down Jude’s hardening shaft. “Last I saw him he was in one of the bedrooms.” He grinned. “You could forget him and stay here with me instead.”
“Scott made me promise I’d find him as soon as I got here,” Jude said.
The man pouted.
Jude smiled. “Maybe later.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Jude shook his head, chuckling. I said maybe for fuck’s sake.
He wandered straight ahead, into the living room.
There were well over a dozen guys crowded into that area alone.
Three and four guys were sharing one bottom, filling every hole they could.
Those smaller groups took up the leather sectional, the small dining room table, the bar jutting out from the kitchen, and the floor, as well.
There were a couple of lookie-loos, watching and jerking off from the edges of the room, too.
Jude hung at the fray, stroking his cock as he surveyed the scene.
There was no Scott from what he could tell, but it wasn’t easy to see in some of the tangles.
He strolled down the hall to the first of two bedrooms. There was no furniture in that room, but he did find Scott.
He was jerking off with a few other guys.
Scott’s eyes widened when he caught sight of Jude.
He let go of his cock and walked closer.
Once Scott had moved, Jude noticed a man on his knees in the middle of the circle, blowing one guy and stroking a couple others while the rest jerked off and watched.
Scott grabbed the sides of Jude’s face to give him a kiss on the lips, like they were the best, old friends, not a couple of random guys who’d hooked up at a sex party once.
“I wasn’t sure if you were still coming, babe.”
Babe? Strike one. “We were busy. I had to stay a bit late,” Jude said.
“The grind, huh?” Scott chuckled. “Quite literally for you, I suppose.”
Jude forced a smile. He rarely told people what he did for a living, so he wasn’t sure why he’d mentioned it to Scott. The familiarity somehow felt uncomfortable, but he shoved the thought aside.
Scott grabbed his hand and threaded his fingers through Jude’s. “Glad you made it. Come with me.”