“They did?”
He nods. “Yup. Convinced me to fly all the way over here, paid for my ticket and got me on the list, then ghosted me.”
“Sounds like your date is a dumbass.”
He laughs and leans his head back against the wall in a move that’s both casually cool and somehow still flirty as fuck. “That’s what I keep telling myself.”
My heart does this weird, skittering beat as he looks me up and down, then drags his teeth over his bottom lip. “Are you on a break?”
“Done for the night,” I say quickly, probably too quickly.
Another of those too-sexy smirks tilts the corner of his lips. “Yeah?”
Is he actually flirting back? Is there a chance that, like me, Xave isn’t as straight as everyone thinks he is?
“Yup.”
“I was about to bounce,” he says, giving me another obvious once-over. “But now I’m not so sure I wanna leave just yet.”
“You don’t?”
He shakes his head, his grin full of promise and heat.
Instead of saying anything more, I hold out my hand.
Surprise flickers over his features, but before I can second-guess what I’m doing, he gives me a smirky grin and slips his bigger hand into mine.
A jolt of electricity runs up my arm at the touch, and instead of taking a moment to question what the fuck I’m doing, I lead him over to the smash room.
The change in lighting is disorienting as the door closes behind us, and I blink a few times as I wait for my eyes to adjust to the nearly pitch-dark room.
Surprisingly, there doesn’t seem to be anyone else here, and when I can see enough that I won’t risk falling on my face, I carefully lead Xave over to a spot against the far wall.
I had a chance to check out the side rooms while the event staff was setting them up, so I know the basic layout of the room. Unless they moved things around just before the doors opened, the right side of the room is lined with couches, while the back wall has several chairs and small loveseats pushed up against it. The left side is clear of any sort of furniture, and that’s exactly where I bring him.
My confidence wanes a bit when we get to our destination, but I shove aside my doubts and ignore the niggle of fear that’s prickling at my consciousness as I guide him so he’s leaning against the wall and I’m in front of him.
It’s so dark I can’t see more than the faint outline of his body and face, and since we’re both wearing dark clothes, the only parts of us that are even remotely visible are the UV stamps on our hands.
Xave lets out a deep rumble that sets my already heated blood on fire, and zings of electricity dance over my skin as he grips my waist and pulls me against him.
He’s warm and solid, and the unmistakable hardness of his cock digging into my hip sends another rush of desire through me as crackles of pleasure explode deep in my body.
Feeling bold, I slide my hand between us so I can cup him through the soft material of his pants. His moan is quiet and laced with pleasure, and I have to bite my lip so I don’t moan with him as I stroke my hand over his length.
Part of me knows something is wrong. My thoughts are too hazy, and every sensation is too amplified for this to just be arousal and adrenaline, but it feels so damn good I just can’t bring myself to care about anything other than feeling more of him.
Xave rolls his hips, forcing his cock to slide against my hand, and it’s like my rational brain goes completely offline, leaving my lizard brain in charge as I’m hit with the overwhelming urge to taste him.
An impatient sound escapes my lips as I let go of his dick and fumble to undo his pants. My fingers slip ineffectively as I try to pop the button of his fly, belatedly remembering that men’s pants open the opposite way from women’s do for some dumb reason.
Xave lets out a throaty chuckle, seemingly unbothered by my total lack of experience and obvious skill issue, and gently pushes my hands away. I can’t see what he’s doing, but I can hear the rustle of material and the soft sounds of the teeth of his zipper undoing as he takes over the task.
Before I can think twice or lose my nerve, I sink to my knees in front of him.
A low, appreciative rumble fills the air between us, and a strong hand slides under my hood. Instead of pushing it back, he cards his fingers into my hair and gently strokes them through the strands.
Tingles dance over my scalp at the gentle touch, and I let out a contented sigh as I slide my hands up his thick thighs, kneading and squeezing the hard muscles.
