Will draped the thong around Sinn's neck. Sinn felt the unfamiliar weight of it. The thing itself was nothing, but the symbolism caught him in the chest. Every muscle tensed as LA memories clawed at the fringes of his mind. Will lightly brushed his fingers along Sinn's collarbone, the strokes soothing Sinn’s tensions. Something about that touch bore deeply into Sinn. The younger man leaned closer, his lips next to Sinn's ear. His fingers on the lace tightened the leather around Sinn's neck. His voice was low and husky as he spoke into Sinn's ear.
"Tonight, I'm looking for a bitch. Do you want to be my bitch, Sinn?" he asked mildly. He eased back and stared into Sinn's eyes. The thong dangled loosely around Sinn's neck. Sinn felt the weight of it burning into him, the heavy mantle of Will's dominance threaded through it, the arched brow, the slightly tilted head, the lusty question heavy in his eyes. The echo of the man’s fingers stroked across his flesh quelled his LA memories. The combination left Sinn gasping for breath. A heat of desire burning him up inside. Commonsense, self-preservation, faded memories, all screamed at Sinn to run. But looking into those warm blue eyes, Sinn knew he wasn’t going to walk away. Need and desire kept him firmly planted in place.
The wrong move, the wrong look, the wrong utterance, and it would be over just like that. This man took no prisoners. Sinn would never see him again, never receive the same offer. In the end, intriguingly, never know what it was like to lose himself with a man worth kneeling to.
He couldn't bear the thought. What would it hurt to submit for just one night? In many ways it offered some intriguing possibilities. He wanted to know how far this would go. The tables were turned and he wanted to find out how it would feel to be fucked by a young, virile hunk like Will. He felt his desire for control slip away, willingly offered up. Curiosity grabbed hold of him. The chance to feel something again clawed at him and wouldn’t let go.
A gift one might say. Offered to this man whom he knew nothing about except for his first name. Sinn drew himself up, staring Will eye-to-eye. Their lips almost touching. He eased back slightly, then slowly he nodded.
"Say it," Will commanded. The music, the softer gold and blue lights undulated around him. Sinn grew dizzy with need.
"Yes."
"Yes...what?" This man would give no quarter; he wanted it all. But Sinn had a feeling he would give it as well. His eyes, his wide mouth. Strong blue rimmed in gold, like a Montana summer sky. Clear and endless, the sun bright and hot. His lips full–not a cruel mouth–it was a mouth meant for pleasuring. Sinn couldn’t help wondering what those lips would feel like wrapped around his cock. What would they taste like pressed against his lips?
Sinn's eyes flashed to Will's. He felt the shackles bearing down around him. He ground his teeth together. Damn him. The man wanted every ounce of Sinn's blood. He glared at Will.
Sinn wasn't going to grovel, if that's what Will expected. No way in hell. This was a game, and he was more than willing to play along. But he was not a pussy—cat or otherwise. He threw back his head. Then he leaned closer. Will didn't budge. He seemed like a man with infinite patience, determined to wait forever for the answer he wanted, if necessary–no, the answer he expected. Screw it.
"I'll play your bitch. It might be fun."
Then Will moved. He gripped Sinn's arms, and firmly set him away. He studied him, long and hard, his eyes going a dark navy blue. His grip loosened. He reached up and tied the thong around Sinn's neck, leaving a length of it to dangle free down across his chest.
Will grabbed the dangling end of the thong with increased pressure forcing Sinn to follow, to the center of the dance floor. He faced Sinn, wound the cord around his hand drawing Sinn close. He rested the hand on Sinn's shoulder. With his other hand, he gripped Sinn's ass, dragged him forward, gluing Sinn to his body.
"Now we dance," Will said against his ear.
Sinn smelled his sweat, the clean scent of soap, a whiff of beer mixed with peppermint. He felt the cord fastened around his neck, the weight of Will's hand on his shoulder. He found himself wanting to taste him, to go down on his knees right here and suck him deep. The thoughts made him feel dizzy and lightheaded. He wanted to taste Will’s cum so bad it hurt. Sinn always played the sex game safe, but tonight–with this man–he wanted to absorb him like never before.
Will dug his fingers into Sinn's ass. Sinn felt Will's erection brush against this own and he let out a groan. So close.
"Are you going to come in your panties like you made that little groupie do?"
Like a cold shower, the words awoke him from his sensual reverie. The denigrating tone snapped Sinn's control back into place.
"Fuck you!"
Will chuckled. “Well, don’t just stand there like a statue, put your hands on my shoulders. Show me you really do want to dance with me,” Will said. Grudgingly Sinn did as he was ordered.
Then Will guided them round and round the dance floor. Sinn matched his steps to Will’s, letting the younger man take the lead. Will was a very good dancer. The stiffness and tension slowly eased from Sinn and he gave himself over to the music. His fingers bit into the firm breadth of Will’s shoulders. He forced himself not to lay his head against that tempting shoulder, close his eyes, and just hand himself over. Soon the grip Will maintained on the leather seemed absolutely right and Will's control felt seductively perfect.
"My bitch," Will murmured, as he kneaded Sinn's ass, driving Sinn crazy.
"Your...bitch," Sinn said rather grudgingly. "For tonight," he qualified. Yeah, just for tonight.
CHAPTER TWO
Will was surprised. He hadn't expected Sinn to be such a good slow dancer. He didn't seem to have the temperament. But slowly the man had begun to relax in Will's arms. For Will it was like a dream. In his arms was the man he'd fantasized about, just as he'd always visualized him.
"You slow dance well. I wouldn’t have expected it," Will said.
Sinn leaned back to look up at Will. "I'm a musician, what did you expect? My whole life is about rhythm and music."
Will quirked a brow. "Yeah, but not this type of music. Has it always been that way? Nothing else holds significance? No one else?" Will had to wonder had everyone in Sinn's life just been a stepping stone to his own wants and needs? Had nothing mattered?
Sinn tilted his chin, jutted his jaw. "Where I come from, if you don't keep your eye on the ball, you die and I'm not the dying kind." He looked away, then he leaned forward and rested his head against Will's shoulder, his hot, moist breath dampening Will’s neck. For one second Will had felt the sharp prick of the wolf's fangs in that statement. Some part of him understood it. Another part of him hated the brutal necessity of it.
"Yeah, I guess you're right." He twirled Sinn around the dance floor. "But are you this...easy...with all your dance partners?"
For one second he felt Sinn tense. Sinn leaned closer, nipped at Will's neck. He released it quickly, but Will felt the sting of his wolf's teeth zing through him, centering in the pit of his stomach. "I don't dance this close with fuck-mates. Not like this. Not until now."
Will's arms tightened. God, he couldn't wait to get this man home. To have him right where he wanted him, on his knees and begging.
"You mean this close?" Will asked. He gripped Sinn's ass, gluing him closer to his body.
"Oh, yeah," Sinn said. He sucked at Will's neck with an intensity that made Will think the man held the ravening intentions and skill of a vampire, sucking Will’s blood to the surface of the skin yet not actually breaking the skin. The ache went straight to Will’s groin. There was eagerness and urgency in the action. But Will was not ready to give in to the temptation just yet. No, it was much too soon.
Will spun him around and for a few moments neither man spoke, both lost in the rhythm of the music, the ambience of the lighting, and each other's arms. Will enjoyed the feel of Sinn, not a bit of extra flesh. Hard and sinewy, a body fashioned from regular workouts in many respects. He smelled of sweat and smoke. Cigarette smoke. As far as Will knew
Sinn didn't smoke cigarettes. It got him to wondering what other man had left his imprint upon Sinn. He tried not to dwell on that image too deeply.
"What do you do for a living?" Sinn asked after a moment. There was a lull in the music as one song segued into another. Cher to Marc Antony to Whitney Houston.
"What do you think my professions is?” Will responded.
Sinn gazed at him for long moments before answering. "Outdoors. You're no more a man to sit behind a desk than me. Contractor? Engineer? Architect?" He pulled the hand on his ass around and examined it, even as they continued to sway to the music. He ran his hand over Will's. He sucked the middle finger into his mouth. It proved another chance to show off his expert sucking abilities to Will. Slowly he pulled the glistening finger from his mouth and again examined it.
"Tanned, callused. But very tasty." He tilted his head and looked into Will's eyes. “Nothing soft about you. Not on the outside anyway. You climb rocks, don't you? You've got hands that have done work. They're used to doing it. And a body chiseled with hard muscle. Got any ideas on what you could do with that wet finger? Seems a shame to waste it."
"Ah, too quick," Will said. He tightened the fingers of his other hand around the handmade leather leash. "That's a privilege you have to earn."
Sinn quirked a slender blond brow. "Earn it? Exactly how should I go about earning your finger up my ass?"
Will whirled him around the floor as the music segued into some classic oldies. At the head of the playlist appeared to be "Slow Dancing" by Johnny Rivers.
"Oh, I'm sure I can think of some way for you to earn a good reaming."
Sinn leaned up to kiss him, but Will pulled back. "Ah-ah. Did I say you could kiss me?"
Sinn looked shocked. "You expect me to ask?"
"I take it that's a first for you. Something tells me you've had it pretty easy for a long time. A crook of the finger and men have dropped to their knees for you real easy."
Something darkened in Sinn's expression. The look intrigued Will. He saw something there, something that had to do with memories, something deep inside Sinn that he tried to hide. Will wanted it–whatever it was, he was going to peel back the exterior of Sinn Midnite and expose what lay beneath. He already knew some of it, but he planned to make Sinn admit all of it. Will sensed whatever it was, it was the key to the anger threaded through Sinn’s music.
He saw the vulnerability, something else Sinn Midnight kept safely hidden from discovery. He whirled Sinn off the dance floor into a darkened corner, shoving him up against the wall. His balled fist–the one wrapped in leather thong snuggled against the hollow of his throat, slowly rode upward along the curve, nudged beneath the tip of his bearded jaw, leather tangling with the pale hair, forcing Sinn's head back, and back, stretched taut. Sinn wrapped his hand around Will's wrist. Will saw desperation, fear...and something else, as Will stared into his widened, dilated gaze.
"When was the last time you were fucked, Sinn? When was the last time you let any of them have you? When was the last time it was you on your knees to someone?"
The look in Sinn's eyes was now more a trapped animal, than the wild, unfettered thing Will had first encountered on the dance floor.
"Fuck you!" Sinn growled the words. Will tightened his grip on the tether.
"That's not an answer. And it's not going to get my cock up your ass. And that's what you want, isn't it Sinn? You want my young prick reaming you like you've never been fucked before. You're so tired of the easy conquests. Tired of the fanboys. You want a man–a young one who can go the distance. One to make you feel again–to make you hungry–to make you beg. I wonder why? Why now? Why me? Do you think I can make you beg, Sinn? Tell me that's what you want, beg me. And maybe I'll give you exactly what you want–exactly what you need. More than your darkest dreams. Beg me."
So many things were going on in Sinn's expression as he stared up at Will. Eyes truly were the mirrors to the soul and right now Sinn's soul was bared totally to Will's view. A struggle was going on inside Sinn. A terrible struggle. And Will waited. He had no doubt what the outcome would be, none at all. It seemed he knew Sinn's heart, his soul, almost as well as his own.
Will had done his homework before coming here tonight. He'd done it well.
He leaned in closer to Sinn. "What do you really want?" he whispered against Sinn's ear. “Just say it. Admit it. Say the words we both know you want to say."
Sinn's lips trembled, a contradiction to the tautness of his body. He would fight it, all the way. But inside, the man's needs would leverage the outcome. He wanted Will and there was only one way to have him. They both knew what his answer had to be. Sinn was not going to walk away.
"Show me how bad you want it. What would you do to get me to kiss you? What would you do to have me fuck you?"
Slowly he removed his fist from beneath Sinn's jaw, he unwound the thong, let the end drape down Sinn's chest. He stepped away. It was now or never. This was the deciding moment. For a full minute Sinn stared at him, eye-to-eye. Then slowly, oh-so-slowly he dropped to his knees. And Will knew for this round, he'd won.
* * *
He'd sworn he'd never be in this position again. Never. Not after LA. That vow had lasted all of what? Eight years? Had he forgotten so quickly what bowing to another man could be like. Sinn glanced up at Will. Will most definitely wasn’t a 50-year-old jaded record producer. Will was...different. This was nothing like anything Sin had experienced before. A moment of panic set in. He rocked back on his heels. Will's hand clamped down on his shoulder, steadying him. The touch was warm, and in some ways comforting. It was a demanding touch, but not cruel or biting.
Will's gaze bored into him. Sinn bore the weight of that hand, Will’s energy burrowing into him. Sinn wanted to run. This was out of his league. He couldn't go back to what he'd been in L.A. Some party favor passed around between friends. Treated like nothing more than a hustler looking for his next sugar daddy. A hell of a lot different than the man he was looking up at right now. Had he ever been as self-assured as Will? Not at 25 he wasn't. He'd been too hungry, too willing to accept the starry words of men old enough to be his father–men he'd thought offered sage wisdom on how to get inside the music business.
At 21, when he'd first left Montana, he'd been as green as the grass he'd had little sight of growing up in the dry prairie land of Eastern Montana. But he'd learned quick. They might be richer than what his stepfather was, but in the end they were just like him. Brutal users to a man.
Will wasn't them, but Sinn was still on his knees and remembered far too well how that had been back before he'd made a decision that changed everything. Back before he'd become just as jaded as the men he'd been fucked by...and whom he’d sucked...getting nowhere but the next bed, the next back room, the next sordid encounter.
He shoved Will's hand aside and surged to his feet. "Not doing this," he mumbled as he pushed past Will. He slammed a hand against the back door and strode out into the alley. He needed fresh air and needed it fast. It was raining when he finally made it outside. He gazed up at the sky, then closed his eyes and let the soft, cool rain help to lower his body temperature. He could have cared less that he was getting drenched. He needed something to wake him up. He was old enough to know better. God dammit! What the fuck was he doing?
And yet, he couldn't get Will out of his head. He couldn't stop the fiery need to be on his knees, to unzip Will's pants and to draw him deep into his mouth, showing him exactly how well he knew how to please a man.
Fuck!
He should be past this–long past it. He was the one who played men for a night, then kicked them to the curb, moving on. He was the one who decided. He was the one who did the fucking. Not the other way around.
Except tonight, for the first time in a long time, he'd felt alive. For the first time in a long time he'd really wanted someone–not just a tight, warm hole to ease his frustrations with. He was not going back in there. Even as he felt some measure of control return to
him with that decision, the hand on his shoulder brought those thoughts surging right back to the surface.
"I didn't mean to scare you," Will said. "That wasn't my intent. I read the situation wrong. I'm sorry."
Sinn drew in a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. He could lie, or he could tell the truth and face the devil inside himself. He opened his eyes, stared at the brick wall of the building next to the nightclub. The muffled strains of the classic oozed over him. The memory of dancing in Will's arms and feeling the young hard body against his own wouldn't be denied. He again stared up at the sky and rain drenched his face.
"You didn't read me wrong. Maybe that's the problem. You know your way around a man and his psyche real well, don't you?"
"Not well enough apparently. I pushed too hard, too fast. It wasn't my intent to freak you out. I just wanted...you."
Sinn slowly turned to face Will. Will cupped Sinn's jaw. "Do you want me to leave you alone? Shall we just consider it no contest, so to speak?"
"If I say no? That I want you to stay?"
Will's hand slipped across Sinn's jawline, and he cupped Sinn's nape. "My way or not at all," he said. "Do you understand what I mean? I play hard, I like to play with someone who can keep up. Do you want this? Can you keep up, Sinn?"
"No other way, huh?" Sinn asked. A part of him hoping Will would relent, and yet another part of him excited in knowing that he wouldn't. Could Sinn revisit a dynamic he'd broken free of?
"No," Will said. "All or nothing."
Could he trust this man–a stranger whom he knew nothing about? This was just for one night. Just one night putting his body, and his trust, into this man's hands. Maybe he needed to do this to set to rest the ghosts of his past. He stared into Will's eyes. Something familiar, something trustworthy in the look, in the touch. Will would have let Sinn walk away if he wanted. He would let Sinn do so now if he chose. But if he stayed, it would have to be on Will's terms.
"All right," Sinn said, coming to a decision. "I need a change anyway. I've been bored lately. Maybe a night with you can fix that."
Delicious Sinn Page 2