Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“So everyone wants you so very much, hm?”
“They want something. I’m not sure it’s me so much as what I represent.” He cocked his head. “Would you like to dance?”
“I didn’t put this gown on to stand around, now did I?”
Vic let out a rough, tired laugh and swept another of those bows that didn’t feel quite so mocking when he still looked at Amani as if the moon danced on his fingertips. “After you, Master.”
“Mm…be careful calling me that in public.”
Amani swayed away, reaching back to capture Vic’s fingertips and draw him after as they stepped out onto the floor to the tune of a slow and winding waltz. Vic’s arm slipped around Amani’s waist, pulling him in close with an easy, thrilling burst of strength, the fingers of his other hand lacing with Amani’s as he stepped to the side…and led Amani into a lazy, flowing dance, swirling across the floor as if time could stop and wait, until they were ready; until they were done.
For the moment, Amani let himself forget the people around them; the entirely wearying social games; the very real feeling that this was not somewhere he could ever belong, or would ever want to. All that mattered was the feel of Vic’s body moving against his own, the gentle pull of the music guiding them, the clasp of their hands and the winter-blue eyes shivering him as each lingering look kissed over him with utter absorption.
“I was impressed, you know,” he teased softly, his other hand curled against Vic’s shoulder, curling as powerful sinew corded and moved beneath his palm with every turn. “Watching you like that. And not one of these people has any idea that all I have to do is tug your leash to have you on your knees.”
“That’s not something they need to know. That’s just for us.” Vic glanced past Amani briefly, before locking eyes again. “People are staring though. Are you all right?”
“I’m used to it. Let them stare.”
“Why are you so used to it?”
Amani smiled fondly. This bizarre man, at once so oblivious and yet hardened to face the rigors of this life. “I’m an anomaly in most people’s worlds, Vic,” he said softly, as if sharing a secret between them. “If they don’t see me as a threat for the color of my skin, they see me as a threat for the way I toss my middle finger at masculinity but still dare to claim to be male.” He leaned closer still, letting Vic’s warmth be a comfort, a reminder that at least one person didn’t need to define him by their rules and only their rules. “Just by existing in people’s spaces, I challenge their comfortable boxes. But I knew what I was getting into when I made the choice to be myself, instead of repress myself. So…yes.” It shouldn’t hurt so much to smile. “I’m used to it.”
As the music slowed, faded, trailed off, they swayed to a halt, and Vic curled his fingers against Amani’s chin, tracing his lower lip reverently. “Maybe they’re just staring because you’re stunningly beautiful.”
“That too.”
“And vain,” Vic pointed out, and the heaviness in Amani broke and lifted as he laughed.
“That would be you, sweet boy.”
“Oh, God.” Vic tensed, shoulder going rock hard under Amani’s palm, and he closed his eyes, swearing throatily. “Amani, I told you not to do that in public…”
“I’m sorry.” He bowed his head, resting his brow to Vic’s chest. “I am. Really. That was out of line.”
He’d thought Vic would laugh it off, move on…but then the hard flexion of the arm around his waist captured him closer, his gut tightening as the pressure of Vic’s cock stroked against his stomach, and a thrumming, deep plea melted warm against his ear.
“Say it again.”
Amani’s fingers clenched against Vic’s jacket. “…sweet boy.”
Vic groaned, pressing his face into Amani’s hair. “I am about to embarrass myself in front of very many rich people.”
Words hovered on the tip of Amani’s tongue, reckless, hot, and he knew he should swallow them back, save them for later, be appropriate and respectable and composed…
…but all he wanted right now was Vic, and the rest of these people be damned.
He let his body mold to Vic’s in soft suggestion, and suddenly the soft layers of organza felt like nothing at all, as if he stood unabashed in his naked skin. “I should be kind,” he whispered, “and not make you wait until we leave.”
A growl, near soundless and yet vibrating hot, sank from Vic into Amani. “…here?”
The note of breathless longing in Vic’s voice, as if he didn’t dare hope, brought a smile to Amani’s lips. He dared to let his mouth brush against Vic’s throat, his jaw, right here in public. “Find us somewhere safe and I’ll let you do anything you want to me, Vic.”