And the warmth that was filtering through my body.
I was dimly aware of the man talking, but I couldn’t make sense of what he was saying. What the hell was wrong with me? It wasn’t until I felt the gentle press of fingers into my upper arms that Irealized he was rubbing circles into my skin. Even as I cursed the fact that I couldn’t feel his actual touch, I jolted back to awareness.
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked dumbly.
Jesus, I needed to get it together.
The man chuckled slightly and the sound went straight to my long-neglected dick.
“I said, ‘Nothing is True; Everything is Permitted.’”
The familiar motto brought a shimmer of reality back and I fought off the fog of confusion. It was only when my eyes skimmed his entire body again that his statement made sense.
I laughed.
And fuck if it didn’t feel amazing.
“Aguilar,” I said with a smile as I took in his costume.
“Ezio,” the man said in all seriousness, as if we really were members of the secret brotherhood of assassins from my favorite video game series, Assassin’s Creed.
I knew I needed to say something else, but I couldn’t stop staring at him.
The feeling seemed to be mutual, because his eyes never left mine. Not even when he released one of my arms to carefully push my hood off. His fingers skimmed my unbruised cheek slightly as he lowered his hand again.
Back to my arm.
Thank God for that.
Fuck, what the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I move? Why was it so damn hard to breathe? Why did my body feel like it was going to go up in flames?
“Elliot?”
It wasn’t until the man finally stepped back just a little bit that I realized he hadn’t been the one to say my name. Why would he? He didn’t even know my name.
“Elliot.”
“Yeah?” I said absentmindedly as I held onto the other man’s gaze. At some point his hands had slid down until they were encircling my wrists.
“Elliot.”
It was the humor in the voice that finally got through to me, and I tore my eyes from the man standing just inches from me and turned to see my friend, Logan, and his husband watching me with amusement.
“What?” I asked as the haze of lust began to ease. “What?” I said more loudly as I tugged my hands free of the man’s warm hold.
“Hi,” Logan said with a knowing smile. If I hadn’t been so embarrassed, I would have laughed at the costumes he and his burly husband, Dom, were wearing.
Popeye and Olive Oyl.
Only Logan was dressed as Popeye and his hulking, bald husband was Olive Oyl.
“Um, hi,” I stammered. “Hi.”
Logan chuckled, as did his husband. “Hi,” he repeated. “Looks like a great turnout tonight.”
“Yeah,” I said. It was only then that I realized that the man and I hadn’t been lost in our own little world in some remote corner of the ballroom. No, we’d been smack-dab in the middle of it, surrounded by chattering partygoers and the benefactors I did business with every day.
“Great costumes,” Logan said as he motioned between me and the other man. “They’re from that video game, right? Did you guys plan this?”
