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His muscles clamped down on me, spasmed and clenched with the violent force of his orgasm. He was loud, my boy, a screamer, and this time was no exception. The volume combined with the pressure and the suction wrung my own climax from me. I emptied into him, deep inside, pumping him full until semen was rolling down the inside of his thighs and dripping off his balls to the floor.

I leaned forward and buried my face in his hair, pressing my nose to the nape of his neck, ready to pull out.

“Don’t.” He stopped me, one hand reaching behind him, grabbing at my hip. “I’m not ready yet.”

I never rushed him.

Chapter 6

LANDRY used the T-shirt he was wearing under his dress shirt to clean us both up and then wadded it up and stuffed it into the garbage can beside the chaise. When we went back out to find his parents, I heard a song I loved and told him I wanted to dance.

“Whatever you want.” He smiled at me with his narrowed bedroom eyes.

I dumped both our jackets on the chair beside his mother and led him to the dance floor. Once we were there, my hands went to his hips and his arms locked behind my head. We swayed together to “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You,” the version I liked, the Lauryn Hill one. Staring into his eyes, I saw how they glowed and was certain that I looked the same way.

He stepped closer, pressing tight, and I put my hands up under the untucked dress shirt and slid them over his warm, sleek skin. His head went down on my shoulder, and he pushed his face against my neck as I began to sing softly under my breath.

“I love when you sing to me,” he whispered.

Sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep, I sang oldies to him, or stupid songs where “Landry” replaced some key repeated word. It was his favorite thing.

“And I love you.” He breathed the words over my face.

I squeezed him tight and then moved with him as Sade’s “Please Send Me Someone To Love” came on next. It was nice that no one cared that we were the only two men out there among the other couples. When Landry’s parents moved by us, I looked up and got a luminous smile from Cece and a nod from Neil. It was very nice.

When Janet Jackson was next with “That’s The Way Love Goes”—it was kind of an odd mix—Landry and I put space between us as we danced. I put it on for him, exaggerating my movements, and he started laughing, the deep, throaty sound coming up out of him. I sang Janet’s part and he did the chorus, and his face, the seven layers of happy that it was, made my whole night.

Landry’s parents had sat down, and we walked over after picking up bottles of water from the bar and joined them at their table.

“Oh,” Cece sighed, smiling at us. “You two are so adorable together.”

I turned and looked at Landry and then lifted my hand and pushed his hair out of his face. “Aww, your mama thinks you’re cute.”

He laughed, moved over into my lap, and drank his water as he grinned at his mother.

She could not stop sighing.

The Carter party concluded at eleven since the lounge was needed for other guests with parties that could ensure copious amounts of alcohol would be ingested well into the early morning. Everyone drifted down the elevators to the casino and to other clubs. Landry’s parents went home, but his brothers and their dates and their friends wanted to dance. Since Landry wanted to as well, I followed along with him. Trance music was not really my thing, so I watched him from a safe distance, sitting in one of the booths while he ground it out on the brightly lit floor.

Sitting there, I realized that Scott, Landry’s brother, was uncomfortable and so was his date. After a second, I realized it was because the people in the booth behind them were bumping against it. I got up and Scott reached for my arm to stop me, but I gave his hand a pat and moved by. There were two couples there drinking, and when the one guy slammed down an empty beer glass, he threw himself back hard.

“Hey,” I said, smiling down at them all before my eyes landed on the rambunctious guy. “Can you knock it off?”

“What? Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m the guy on the other side of you, so if you could not slam backward, we’d appreciate it.”

“See, Brad,” the other guy said and squinted at him. “Just chill out already. You’re drunk, and this shit is annoying not just to us.”

“Oh, fuck you,” he told his friend, and then he looked up at me. “And fuck you, man. What kind of pussy comes over here and—”

I grabbed his shoulder hard, my fingers digging, and leaned down so that we were close, almost nose to nose. “I’m asking you nicely, Brad. You’re being a dick, and if I have to drag your ass outta here I will, because really, who’s gonna give a shit if I do?”

He looked at me, and I stared back.

“Whatever. You guys are all a buzzkill.”

“Thanks,” I said, straightening up and turning away. When I did, I saw a guy get pushed back from another booth. I wouldn’t have cared, would never have even given it a second thought, but he was one and they were many, and Benji Matthews was still weighing heavily on my heart.