Z zeroed in on a pretty, sleek man with liquid brown eyes. "I'll take an ale." Without another word, he followed the object of his interest through the crowd.
Shaking his head, Jory went to get drinks.
Instinctively, his body started to flow with the music. Jory moved with the beat, his hips swaying as he headed towards the bar. His mother's people were dancers, and he felt his heritage deep in his bones. Closing his eyes, Jory let the rhythm sink into his soul as he paused in his trek and absently moved in the intricate dance steps he learned as a child. Some things a person never forgot. When the music ended, Jory opened his eyes to applause. A ring of men surrounded him on the dance floor, smiling and clapping. Jory sketched a quick bow before continuing his trek to the bar. Guess they don't see much real dancing.
More than one hand reached out to touch him during his journey. None of them sent a tingle through him so Jory ignored them as he slid onto a well-worn wooden stool to wait his turn. His butt had barely hit the seat before the bartender stood before him, eating Jory up with his eyes.
The skinny bartender had thick hoops through each ear, gorgeous caramel skin, and a perfect white-toothed smile that, when he flashed it towards Jory, exposed a dimple on one cheek.
"What can I get you, sweetheart?" the bartender shouted over the music. "Beer, wine, or me?"
Jory laughed. At least some people didn't bother with the subtleties. Unfortunately, he liked his men taller, broader, and more muscular. An image of Val flashed through his mind, sending heat throughout his body and decadent thoughts into his mind.
"Um. A glass of white wine and two ales."
In a quick flurry of hands, the bartender presented him with the requested drinks. "Need to have those delivered?"
"No, I can do it."
He wrapped one hand around both the handles of the beer mugs, picked up the wine glass with his other hand and headed back to his friends.
"Yum, I love it when hot, sexy men bring me drinks," Lila teased with sparkling eyes.
Z ignored him, his eyes riveted on a skinny black-haired man thrashing on the dance floor in what only the extremely generous could call a dance rhythm. "You two have fun," he muttered before rushing through the crowd towards the object of his desire.
"Obviously, he has low standards." Lila smirked.
Jory tilted his head as he watched the pair. "He's cute enough, but I don't think I could mate with someone who had convulsions on the dance floor."
Lila laughed until she cried.
Jory waited until she'd taken enough breaths to speak. "So tell me a little about you."
Lila shrugged. "I work for Britson, and I'm looking for a mate. I have a boyfriend, but he's not…" She bit her lip. "He's not the one."
This close up, Jory could see her makeup covered a slight bruising around her eyes. "He hits you, doesn't he?"
She nodded, looking away. "Yeah. The only way I can escape him is if I find someone else. I'm not strong enough to get away from him on my own."
"Don't sell yourself short." Jory tried to be encouraging, but he'd seen enough abuse when he volunteered at shelters to know some people never made it away from their abusers. "You can do it. But it doesn't hurt to shop around a little."
Jory figured any hope he could give her would help.
"What about you?" Lila asked. "What's your story?"
"I'm the youngest of my family. My father sent me here to find a mate."
"Not enough prospects at home?"
Jory shrugged. "None my father approved of." He didn't need to mention he might be the target for assassination. He didn't want to scare off a potential friend.
"Ah." He saw her open her mouth to ask him more, but a gorgeous man with bulging muscles came up to the table and asked her to dance.
Jory nodded his encouragement. "Go ahead, sweet. I'll keep the table warm."
Z came back with his uncoordinated boy toy. Jory idly wondered what had happened to the first boy he'd followed into the crowd.
"Hey, Jory, this is Pov."
