Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Tate raised one of those light eyebrows.
Fuck it.
He grabbed Tate’s rough hand—those calluses would do amazing things to his skin. And on his cock? They would feel unbelievable. “Let’s go.”
Together, they weaved through the throngs of clubgoers to the back hallway where four single-user bathrooms resided. A short, barrel-chested man walked out of one as Liam reached the mouth of the hallway.
“Hell yes,” Liam muttered. He tugged Tate along straight to the vacant restroom. The second Tate followed Liam into the stall, he slammed the door shut so hard it rattled the thin walls. The snick of the lock sent a shiver racing down Liam’s spine.
Crazy things were about to happen in there.
As much as he wanted to get off, the idea of driving Tate out of his mind set Liam’s blood boiling. He spun and slapped his palms to Tate’s chest, shoving the bigger man against the closed door.
Tate’s eyes widened, and his nostrils flared. “So, it’s like that, huh?”
Meeting his gaze, Liam nodded once. “Yeah.” He ripped the button on Tate’s jeans open and lowered the zipper in one smooth move.
Life had been crazy lately. Leaving his ballet company and moving from New York, where he knew he was loved and accepted, to a potentially hostile town where he didn’t have friends had his head spinning. Add to it starting a business that had the potential to fail, and Liam felt out of control. He needed to take some power back, and what better way to do that than by turning a rougher, bigger man into a needy mess?
Before he reached into Tate’s black boxer briefs, he raised an eyebrow. “Any objection to me giving you the blowjob of your life?”
Tate’s nostrils flared. “Christ, you’re not what I expected.”
Liam smirked. This wasn’t what anyone would have expected of him.
“Do your worst, Luxe.”
He slid his hand down the waistband of Tate’s underwear and wrapped his hand around the hot steel trying to escape. God, the skin was soft and sleek over all that stiffness. “Luxe?” he asked, already breathless.
Tate hissed out a curse. “Damn, your hand feels nice.” His eyes fluttered as though wanting to close, but he fought it. “The way you move, it’s elegant, graceful.” He shrugged. “Luxe.”
Liam blinked. His throat thickened. From childhood, his entire life had been spent honing those exact skills. What was a professional ballet dancer without elegance and grace? Tate's comment expanded a warm feeling in his chest. His last boyfriend hated the way Liam carried his training into his everyday movements.
Don’t be an emotional fool.
This was a down-and-dirty hookup in a damn bathroom stall, nothing more, and he’d be an idiot if he pretended it was anything else.
The man was gorgeous in a down-to-earth kind of way, not the polished type of guy Liam typically went for, but stunning, nonetheless. He had a raw magnetism about him that drew Liam in the most primal way. Whatever it was—chemistry, pheromones, or black magic— he wanted to devour this man with an instant passion he wasn’t used to. Liam wanted to tear off his clothes, shove his nose in Tate’s armpit, inhale his masculine scent, bite him, and leave teeth marks to show where he’d been.
But he’d settle for swallowing what promised to be a stellar cock and hearing Tate shout his release.
He tightened his grip, shoving aside all those pesky feelings that always caused him trouble, and smirked.
“Shit.” Tate reached for him, but he dropped to his knees out of the man’s grasp.
He’d regret kneeling on the hard floor in the morning when he couldn’t perform a simple plié, but that was tomorrow’s problem. One hard yank had Tate’s pants and boxer briefs down around his knees.
His cock sprang forward, long, hard, and mouthwateringly thick. Liam would love to spend hours worshiping all that flesh, but this was a race against the clock. Someone would come banging on that door before long, so he needed to act.
He cupped Tate’s heavy balls, drawing another of those tortured hisses from the man.
“My fucking favorite,” Tate rasped.
Good to know.
He licked the head of Tate’s cock, catching a large drop of precum before it fell to the floor, wasted. The flavors of heat and sin hit his tongue and invaded his senses. His own cock throbbed, trapped behind his jeans. He was dying to free it and tug himself to completion, but the fantasy of Tate doing it for him kept him in check.
He opened his mouth and engulfed Tate down to the root as he gave a gentle tug to his balls. Tate shouted. The sound of his palms smacking against the wall to stabilize himself made Liam smile despite his full mouth.
He cast his gaze upward to find Tate staring down at him with a near snarl on his face and fire in his eyes.