Tyler corrected him. “I believe you kissed me.”
Marcus made an incoherent noise in his throat. “Fucking hell, who cares?” He braced his hands on either side of Tyler’s hips, effectively trapping him. Their bodies touched, and Tyler’s cock, loose in his sweats, swelled even further, tenting out the fabric. Marcus groaned at the sight and rubbed himself up against Tyler. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”
Marcus’s lips grazed his jaw, and Tyler bit back a moan. He could hardly think straight– he was so turned on.
“Yeah, so?” Coherent thought was about to leave his brain as Marcus continued to nibble along the side of his neck.
“So why did you stop? We could have fun together. Let me show you.”
Marcus dipped his head and kissed him, and Tyler, overtired from lack of sleep and dizzy from repressed desire, gave up all pretense of resistance. Just for once, he gave into temptation and put his needs first, before everyone else’s.
Their lips touched again, tentative at first as they learned the shape of each other’s mouths and each other’s tastes. His fingers ghosted along Marcus’s strong jawline, then curved around the nape of his neck. Tyler sucked the swell of Marcus’s full lower lip into his mouth, his body surging with pleasure at Marcus’s grunt of approval. He molded his body to Marcus’s, and they slanted their mouths together, feeding off their mutual rising hunger. All sound abated save for their ragged breaths as they fused their bodies and their mouths together, licking, biting, devouring, as if each was the other’s first meal after a prolonged fast.
This was more than a simple kiss; this was possession, fueled by lust. Tyler gasped, sucking in much-needed air, and clung to Marcus’s shoulders like a lifeline, his fingers curled around the bunched up fabric of Marcus’s shirt as if by letting go he’d drown.
Marcus’s eyes were closed, his face soft with desire, in direct opposition to the hard body flush against Tyler’s. With supreme reluctance, Tyler let go of Marcus and touched his fingers to his lips briefly, wondering if he’d imagined the perfection of their kiss.
Marcus finally opened his eyes and trailed kisses down Tyler’s neck. “I’m glad to see you’ve decided to give in. Made the trip out to this godforsaken part of Brooklyn worth it.”
“So you got what you came for, then?” Tyler hitched up his sweats and tied them tighter on his hips.
“Somewhat.” Marcus pounced on him, crushing his mouth over Tyler’s before he had a chance to react and move out of reach. And damn his fucking traitorous body—again—he accepted it. More than accepted; he dived into that kiss head first like a kid into a fresh pile of snow. He loved kissing, and he missed sucking in another man’s breath and feeling the play of muscles beneath his fingers.
So fucking sexy. The taste of Marcus in his mouth sent his head spinning. It had been so long since he’d been touched and smelled another man’s scent. For a last, brief second Tyler allowed himself the pure pleasure of falling into Marcus’s kiss; then he pushed Marcus away.
“We need to stop.”
Marcus stepped back, his face dark with lust. “What’s wrong? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He drew in a deep breath and let out a shaky laugh. “It’s been a while for me, so I’m a little out of control.”
“Yeah, I know about that bet.” Tyler slid out from under Marcus’s grasp and escaped to the living room where he sat on the sofa that doubled as his bed. “And you didn’t hurt me. I was as into it as you, and that’s the problem.”
Marcus followed and joined him on the sofa. “You’re talking in riddles. As a matter of fact,”—that now-familiar gleam entered Marcus’s eyes, and Tyler inched farther away until the wooden arm of the sofa dug into his back and he had nowhere left to go—“you’re talking too much.” He scooted closer and ran his hand up Tyler’s arm, clasping his shoulder in an almost possessive grasp. “Why don’t we move this to the bedroom and get better acquainted?” His thumb smoothed the skin under Tyler’s chin.
Tyler shook off his hand. “This was a mistake. I told you at the club I don’t want to get involved with you.”
Nuzzling his neck, Marcus smiled against his skin. “Who said anything about getting involved? I’m talking about some hot and heavy fucking. You and me and a king-size bed that I guarantee will be banging up against the wall in seconds flat once I lay you down.”
If he’d been wavering before, the cavalier manner with which Marcus spoke sealed it for Tyler. He couldn’t afford to let his cock rule his head right now. He jerked away and froze when, about to speak, he heard the door from the back of the apartment squeak open, then the unmistakable shuffle of footsteps from down the hallway.
“Uncle Ty?”
In her purple footie pajamas, four-year-old Lillie rubbed her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile.
“I had a bad dream.”
He hurried over to scoop her up in his arms, and pressed a kiss to her sleep-tousled curls. “It’s okay baby-girl. I’ll tuck you back into bed.”
“Who’s that?” She pointed at a stunned Marcus who, for once, seemed incapable of speech.
“That’s my boss. His name is Marcus.”
She studied him with serious blue eyes, and Tyler couldn’t help but laugh at the uncomfortable expression on Marcus’s face. He wondered if the man had ever even spoken to a young child before.
“He looks sad.” She wriggled out of his arms and before Tyler could stop her padded over to Marcus who studied her with a quizzical expression, as if she were an alien requiring further investigation. “Are you sad? When I’m sad Uncle Ty dances for me; then we have hot cocoa.”
Marcus’s unreadable gaze met Tyler’s when he answered Lillie. “I don’t think your uncle will want to dance for me anymore.”
At the double entendre in those words, Tyler’s heart twisted painfully. Trained as a classical dancer, surprisingly Tyler had come to love his job at Sparks despite the drunken, pushy clients. In the past week he discovered he enjoyed interacting with the people and the freedom the music brought to his body. It poured through him like liquid gold, igniting something visceral inside him. When he danced he felt his soul soar.
