gives me goddamned puppy-dog eyes. “Please?”
“Fine.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I’ll meet you at the hotel at ten.”
“Yes!” He grins at me. “Just like old times.”
****
I leave my car in a parking garage near work and walk over to the hotel. It’s a cold night, and I’m grateful for my heavy vintage pea coat to wear over my club clothes. I can look the part as well as the next guy, with my tight jeans, no belt, and tight T-shirt, but tonight I feel like I’m not just looking the part, but playing a part. When I walk into the opulent lobby of the Haywood, Kevin is waiting for me, dressed in his own version of club clothes— black leather pants and a charcoal gray sweater. He looks positively mouth-watering as he crosses the room toward me.
“You look great,” he says, eyeing my jeans. “Are we going to call a cab?”
“Nah, we can walk.” I grin. “It’s cold, but I’m sure nothing like what you’re used to in New York.”
He smiles. “No, it’s really mild here. I like it.”
He follows me out onto the street and falls in step beside me as we head toward the club. We can hear the bass thumping a block away. It sends a little thrill through me. Once upon a time, I’d loved dancing with Kevin. Just hearing the thud of dance music brings back memories of the way he could move, all hips and sensuality. He was right, I really ought to do this more often.
We pay the cover, and I don’t miss the way the bouncer’s gaze travels down the length of Kevin’s body, the appraising way he smiles. I tense up, wanting to stake a claim, but I can’t really do that because he’s not mine.
“You boys have fun.” The bouncer winks at me.
I check my coat, shoving the little ticket in my pocket, and I head for the bar. Kev is already there, and he turns to me with a shot glass in his hand.
“For you, my love.” He presses the shot into my hand. A quick sniff tells me it’s tequila. I raise a brow at him, and he holds up his own glass in a mock salute. I grin and tip mine back.
As the liquid burns a sweet fire down to my belly, I start to sway with the music. I don’t even realize I’m doing it until Kevin takes the glass from my hand and puts it on the bar. He takes my hand and leads me onto the dance floor, pulling me in close to his body, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis.
I let the beat wash over me as I press in closer, rocking my dick into his in a way I’m only bold enough to do because we’re on the dance floor. He slides his hands down my sides, holding me in place.
“…so fucking sexy when you dance, you know that?” He has to practically shout it to be heard over the music. I don’t say anything; I close my eyes and dance.
His body is hard and hot and he moves with perfect rhythm against me, hips shifting in a sexy roll. When he spins me around and starts to rub against my ass, I moan, throwing one arm over his shoulder and cupping the back of his head. His hair is soft as silk, a little damp. I gather some of it in my fist and I tug.
He smoothes a hand down my chest and his lips find the side of my neck just as his fingers pinch over my nipple.
Oh fuck. It feels good, really fucking good, tense and sharp at once. I trust him not to go too far in public, so I nuzzle my forehead against the side of his face and let him manhandle me.
Another tug at my nipple sends my brain reeling.
“Oh, God,” I whimper, biting my lower lip.
“You should see the look on your face right now,” Kevin says. “You look completely lost and found. You look like a man should look on the verge of an orgasm. You look fierce and fine and so damned hot. All the guys in this room wish they were dancing with you, and they’re jealous because I’m the one holding you. They think I’m going to be fucking you later, and they get hard just thinking about it. About that face you’re making, and me causing it. How does that make you feel?”
“Turned on,” I admit, though it’s really