Angelo Giordano slid onto a bar stool and nodded at Carl, an old friend of sorts, though they’d never seen each other outside of the club. “It hasn’t been thatlong.”
“No? Seems like forever since I last saw your prettyface.”
“Piss off and get me somewater.”
“You don’t want aPeroni?”
“Nah. Fuck that.” Angelo had drunk his fill of crappy Italian beer at his father’s wake, and his empty stomach was still protesting. “Water’s fine, mate.Honest.”
“Suityourself.”
Carl slunk away to the fridges on the other side of the bar. Angelo watched him go, admiring his perfect porn-star backside. Carl was good fun and they’d played together many times in the past, but as Angelo ran his gaze over his broad shoulders and thickset thighs, he felt nothing. He wasn’t here for familiar; he’d come for theunknown.
A bottle of water appeared in front of him. Carl squeezed Angelo’s wrist and moved on, because that was the other good thing about him: he knew when to leave peoplealone.
And Christ, Angelo wanted to be alone, but he had one last thing to do before he locked himself away for the rest of the week; a last itch to scratch before he gave himself over to the black cloud that had followed him all the way home from New York. Was still following him, two monthslater.
He spun around on his stool and surveyed his surroundings. The bar was situated in the middle of the club, equidistant from most of the play areas. At this time of night, things were starting to heat up and spill over from the more popular rooms. Angelo’s first cursory glance picked up an acquainted couple screwing over a table, a snake pit of women on the floor, and a dude clearly getting the blowjob of his life from the bear of a man on his knees at hisfeet.
Heat pooled in Angelo’s groin. He thought about joining the couple on the table, of claiming his space behind the man and fucking him while he banged his wife, or shoving his dick in the bear’s mouth and hitching a ride on what looked like some damn fine head. But he didn’t move because both options were dances he’d danced before, and he wasn’t in the mood for anotherwaltz.
Angelo drained his water bottle and slid from his stool. Instinct drew him to the stairs that led to the basement rooms?—his favoured place to play when his mood was this dark?—and he joined the short queue of others who fancied a mystery tour. At the front, he found Seamus, a beast of a man who watched over the basement rooms like every participant was his ownchild.
He tipped Angelo a wink. “Looking fly, brother. Do I need to go through the checklist withyou?”
“Probably not, but I know you wantto.”
Seamus chuckled and went through his safety list before stamping Angelo’s hand, branding him as the only player who’d walk into whatever followed with his eyes wide open. “Bunker five,” he said. “I gotta feeling you’re going to like what youfind.”
Angelo rolled his eyes. Seamus was a terminal optimist, and his script never changed, regardless of what Angelo found on the other side of the thick steampunk door. “Whatever. Cheers,mate.”
He left his shoes with Seamus and padded barefoot down the industrial-styled corridor, the metal floor cold against the soles of his feet. The play bunkers were soundproofed, what went on behind the heavy doors audible only to Seamus and the pay-by-the-hour observation galleries, but Angelo sensed the heat emanating from each room he passed and let it seep into him and merge with the building anticipation roiling in hisgut.
Bunker five was at the end of the corridor. Angelo paused with his hand on the door and psyched himself up for what he might find. In the past, he’d screwed all kinds of people, but dear God, he wanted to fuck a man tonight?—needed it.Cravedit. Pansexual be damned, some days, only a man’s touch could take the painaway.
Angelo opened the door. Blinked a few times. And then a rush of relief hit him so hard he had to steady himself on thedoorframe.
Whoa.Jackpot.
He sucked in a breath, and the smouldering desire in his gut did a happy dance. It had been a while, but the thrill of opening the door never got old, and this time he’d struck gold?—literally. The slender young man waiting for him on the bed had a halo of fair hair and pale skin that would look awesome with Angelo’s handprints welded into it. And beyond that, he wasready.Blindfolded and splayed out on his hands and knees, the man had left condoms and lube beside him?—his message clear. He wanted to be fucked, and Angelo was over the damn moon tooblige.
Dropping his clothes as he went, he stalked around the raised mattress, his dick already hard. His plan was basic, already spelled out by his mysterious companion, but he paused by the man’s head, intrigued by his lips. Pillowy and full, the temptation to slide his cock between them was strong, but the metal floor biting into his bare feet stopped him. People didn’t come to the basement rooms for that?—they came for the anonymous oblivion that Angelocraved.
Angelo returned to where the man clearly wanted him most. He reached for the condoms, and the man shivered as Angelo tore the foil wrapper open and then tossed it aside. Angelo rolled the condom on, jacking himself a couple of times before he turned his attention to his partner in crime and his willing hole. The lube was the stretchy kind that was fashioned on real come. It dripped out of the bottle in long wet strings and onto the man’s cleft, sliding down his thighs. The man shuddered again, but Angelo made no move to comfort him.Nah. The basement rooms weren’t about getting up close and personal; they were about getting down and dirty, and Angelo was more thanready.
He pushed lube into the man’s hole with his thumb, absorbing the delicious answering moan. Words were rarely exchanged in encounters like this, but there were a few that Angelo was obliged to utter. He eased his thumb further inside the man and leaned over him, his nipples brushing the man’s smooth back. “Safe word isfox. Don’t be shy about usingit.”
The man gasped out a laugh. “Iwon’t.”
His voice was deeper than Angelo expected, and the gravelly words went straight to his dick. He withdrew his thumb, lined up with the man’s hole, and pressed inside with as much care as he could muster with his blood roaring a symphony in his ears. The man was tight and hot and slick with lube. And more than that, he wanted Angelo’s cock and widened his stance to take all of him in one slowslide.
“Fuck yeah.” Angelo stopped for a moment, reeling from being balls-deep inside a man. He took a breath, and then a strange sensation washed over him, and he lurched forward before he caught himself, hands flailing as he fought the urge to run his hands all over the man’s smooth back.What thehell?
That was a new one. When he’d played in the basement rooms before, he’d never thought about really touching whoever he’d been railing. Had never taken much notice because that was the point—a hook-up that took anonymity to the extreme, where sex narrowed to the lightning bolts of pleasure shooting through his dick. But he wanted to touch this man, wanted to squeeze those slim hips and let his palms roam that flawlessback.
Wanted it. Cravedit.
Fuckit.
