Private Dances Read online

  “Yeah. Yeah, you can. Can I?” He motioned toward Gen’s shirt, Gen’s buttons.

  “Of course.” Gen rubbed his thumbs over Dale’s nipples before Gen dropped his hands, offering to let Dale start undressing him.

  He’d never undressed anyone before. Man, it was harder than he thought it would be. Buttons were backward. Gen’s skin kept distracting him. The scent of the man made him dizzy—probably some strange, drugging Italian perfume.

  As soon as he got the buttons undone, Gen shrugged out of the shirt. Nice. Tanned and kinda fuzzy, but he had a nice wide chest and a six-pack of his own, along with tight little brown nipples.

  Dale touched like he was petting a critter he’d not made friends with yet.

  Gen shivered, reaching out to him again now that the shirt was out of the way, cupping his shoulder in one hand, his ribs in the other. Those rough fingers traced his skin, learning his shape, mapping him.

  Gen’s body was so different from his, the skin and hair fascinating, the dark nipples hard, getting harder as his fingers circled them. Gen’s breath caught, wide chest rising and falling under his touch. Then he got a wicked grin, and Gen echoed his touch, fingers coming to circle his own nipples the same way, letting him see what it felt like.

  He shivered, the sensation sharp, tingling, nipples going hard, cock going even harder. “Oh. Damn.”

  “You can see why I like it.” Lashes lowering, Gen bent and pressed his lips to one of Dale’s nipples, tongue flicking hard against it.

  His belly went tight, belt buckle digging into him as his hips rolled. Oh. Oh, shit. That was. Damn. Damn.

  “Mmm. I can smell you. Hot.” That stubbled cheek rubbed where the wet mouth had been, and Gen worked over to his other nipple, sucking it in, teeth worrying it.

  Shit, Dale didn’t really think they were for anything but decorative purposes. Sweet Christ, that drew his balls up like a bit of raw leather left in the sun.

  “Good?” Like the man didn’t know what the heck he was doing. Gen kept at him, teeth and tongue moving, driving him higher and higher.

  “I… shit, Gen. I’m gonna….” He pulled away, eyes wild. “That’s…. Christ. Your mouth.”

  “You taste wonderful.” He got a twinkling smile, Gen looking up at him. “Should I stop?”

  “I…. Hell, I don’t know. That… that’s damn near better than cobbler.”

  “That is good to hear.” Oh, the man was a charmer, teasing him that way, touching him and kissing him.

  Dale did his dead-level best to touch back, to make this surprisingly generous man feel as good as he did. He figured it was working, the way Gen moved against him, the way the man started breathing heavy. The skin under his hands and mouth was flushed, hot, sweat starting to bead up on it. He lapped at the sweat, moaning when the salt and musk made his cock throb, so he did it again.

  “Dale.” Gen lifted up, bracing one knee against the couch, the other foot against the floor, and reached for his jeans, working the buckle of his belt. “I need the rest.”

  “Let me get my boots off.” His cock was pushing against his zipper like a bull at the gate, balls aching.

  Gen sat back, watching him, hand dropping to touch the bulge in those fine gray slacks. Oh, now. That was right pretty. Damn near addictive. Dale managed to get his boots off without a hassle, then his socks, before settling back in nothing but his jeans.

  That was all the invitation Gen needed to attack his jeans again, working the button and zipper so fast Dale’s head spun. He lifted his butt up, jeans and briefs sliding down his hips easy, cock bobbing up to say howdy.

  Gen touched the tip of his cock, fingers dragging across the slit, thumb dragging down the ridge underneath. “Oh. Perfect.”

  A low purr was dragged from him, all sandpaper-rough from wanting. He reached out and slid his hand down that flat belly. Gen sucked in, let his hand naturally drop inside the waistband of those fancy pants, Gen’s hand working him all the while. His fingers brushed against damp heat, and he moaned, attention split between the sensations in his belly and the need to touch, to see. Smiling like he knew, Gen reached down to cup Dale’s balls, fingers barely tracing over them, pushing them up.

  “Oh.” His thighs parted like nothing going, breath catching in his chest. Nobody’d ever really touched there. It seemed damn near… perverse.

  “You must tell me if I hurt you. This can be… sensitive.” Gen leaned, pushing up into his hand, rolling his balls up and forward against the base of his cock.

  He managed to get Gen’s pants open, get his fingers on their prize. Lord, he was randy as a penned goat. “Not hurtin’. Lord.”

  “Oh, good.” Gen kept on keeping on, touching and kneading. It was hot, damn it.

  And the man was uncut. It was fascinating, the way the skin slid, how soft it was, how different from him. Gen’s eyes closed for a minute, the man moaning for him, hips arching. Yeah. That was the way. He could see the flush rise under Gen’s skin, feel it under his hand. It felt fine, felt like maybe he wasn’t completely outclassed. Then, as he leaned down, licked Gen’s shoulder, it felt good for God’s sake.

  “You feel like heaven.” Gen crowded him again, pushing him down, hand cupping his cock again, bringing their cocks together as Gen covered him.

  “Yeah. Yeah.” He forgot all about worrying and felt and touched and tasted, nerves catching all afire.

  Gen kissed him then, nothing at all like the soft, sweet kisses before. This one was deep, hard, burning his tongue like too-hot coffee, making him gasp. They found their rhythm, tongues and hips and hands and, sweet Jesus, this was….

  Damn.

  Gen’s cock was fiery against his, the sweat of their skin making them slick, drops of precome making it even wetter. It was so good.

  He grunted, pushed up, riding it. “Soon. Lord, soon.”

  “Yes. Please.” That strong hand pulled them both together, squeezed, Gen’s hips rocking down against him as Gen bit into the flesh of his lower lip.

  Heat sorta washed over him, and he came, eyes rolling, Gen’s name on his lips. He heard Gen’s answering moan, felt it as Gen rocked and jerked and came against him, just like that. Hot and wet and fast.

  Oh, that was…. Damn. And also wow. With a touch of holy shit.

  Gen panted, leaning against him there on the couch, sweaty and heavy. “Mmm. Dale. Fantastico.”

  He was gonna assume that was close to bueno and nodded. “Mighty fine.”

  A soft chuckle landed on his skin, the puff of air drying on his shoulder. “You should see what I can do with a bed.”

  “Lord, Lord, my brains might melt.” He grinned, chuckled a little, feeling fine.

  “Well, I do not know that I would want that.” Gen looked at him. “How do you feel about whirlpools and champagne?”

  “Champagne makes me silly, and I love the water.”

  “Then we must try it.” Hoisting up off him, Gen held out a hand. “I have a whirlpool big enough for far too many people. You must promise to sit close.”

  He nodded, hand sliding right into Gen’s. “I can manage that.”

  “Good.” That smile flashed again as Gen tugged him toward the bathroom. “Champagne makes me… how would you say? Horny.”

  “Yeah?” Oh, now that he had to see. Up close and personal-like.

  Chapter Three

  CHAMPAGNE DID indeed make Dale silly. It was the most charming thing Gen had ever seen. It seemed to surprise Dale too, which was funny, considering that he was the one who had said it would happen.

  They sloshed in the hot tub for a good long while, sucking on the champagne, until finally he thought Dale might float away, and he grabbed Dale up. “I think we’ve had enough bubbles, caro.”

  “Caro… I like how that sounds.” Dale stood, water sliding down those amazing muscles, beading in the dark gold curls.

  “Do you?” He did too, which was somewhat distressing. He decided not to think upon it too much and wrapped an arm around Dale’s
waist instead, guiding him out of the tub. “You are quite lovely.”

  “I clean up well.” Dale winked over, eyes twinkling.

  “You do. But I have seen many that clean up well, and you are….” He trailed off, shaking his head at himself. He stroked his hand down Dale’s back, cupping his bottom. “Are you ready for that bed?”

  Those strong muscles tensed under his touch, Dale’s moan sweet as wine. “I think I am, Gen.”

  “So am I.” He wanted to see and smell and taste every bit, and on the couch and under the water, he had not been able to. He led Dale into the bedroom of the suite, his prick taking an interest already.

  Dale’s fingers ghosted over his cock, teasing, just barely touching.

  He jumped, his cock jerking under Dale’s touch. So sweet, that touch. “Dale.”

  “Mmm-hmm. That’s so fine….” The touch was repeated, Dale’s fingers featherlight.

  His hand clenched on Dale’s ass, digging into the muscle as Gen shook from the touches. Such a small thing, the brush of Dale’s fingers, to make him so hot. “You feel amazing.”

  They settled on the bed, stretching out together, those tiny, teasing touches driving Gen mad. He arched against Dale, happy to be fully against him, touching that sweet skin all over. Dale’s cheeks were covered in the barest stubble, the gold hairs making his nerves light and spark.

  He rubbed, their cheeks touching, his hands sliding down Dale’s back. “So pretty.”

  Sensitive too, from the low groan he received, from the way Dale pushed against him. The man’s skin was smooth, supple, delicious to his fingers. Gen kept on exploring, lips and tongue tracing the vein on the side of Dale’s throat, fingers scraping over the backs of Dale’s thighs. Dale didn’t just let him touch. No, those fingers traveled and stroked, scraped and petted. It was fascinating the way Dale’s need answered his.

  They rolled so they were side by side, where both of them could get to each other more easily. Gen stroked Dale’s chest, pinching those nipples lightly, remembering how good they’d felt before, how they’d drawn up for him. That got him a shudder, Dale’s fingers stroking through his hair, stuttering a little. The tiny bits of flesh went dark and hard, and he squeezed them again, watching Dale’s face. It was amazing how sensitive Dale was.

  “Damn.” Dale’s teeth sank into his swollen bottom lip, warm eyes rolling. “That’s… something.”

  “Yes. It is.” He smiled, leaning to lick at Dale’s mouth, right where teeth met lip. “Something wondrous.”

  “Wondrous. Yeah.” Dale leaned in, tongue slip-sliding against his, teasing, playing.

  They kissed deep, tongues tangling, hands clutching. Gen was amazed at himself. He was ever the cool-headed lover, but this man…. Gen could not keep his hands and hips and mouth still.

  The kisses grew sharper, Dale more and more confident, the motions of the strong body under his hands needy. Gen liked it. Liked that the nerves were fading, that Dale was no longer the paid dancer, was instead the eager lover. Moving closer, Gen nibbled Dale’s lip, letting it sting a bit.

  “Uhn.” Dale pushed against him, hand on his ass, drawing them closer together.

  His cock brushed Dale’s, and Gen moaned. The hand on his ass burned, made him gasp and twitch, and he rocked back and forth happily.

  “Yes….” Dale’s muscles bunched, eyes open, watching him, watching every motion.

  He was watching too, cataloging the way that skin flushed, the way the muscles bunched as he touched arms and ribs and hips. The flat belly rippled, went tight, heavy cock releasing sweet, clear drops that scented the air. He touched those drops, wanted to taste them, but he didn’t. That would be unsafe, and he could exercise that much control at least.

  “Oh.” The fingers on his ass tightened, body jerking. “Gen. I. Oh.”

  “Mmm.” He could not stop touching, tasting. He wrapped his hand around Dale’s cock, pulling lightly.

  Dale whimpered, humping his hand, just like that, hips moving smooth and quick. So young. Sweet and good. Gen kept stroking, leaning up on his opposite elbow so he could watch. He wanted it all.

  Dale’s lips were parted, tongue sliding out, eyes wild and wanton. “Don’t stop. Please. Gen.”

  “Not going to, I promise.” As if he could stop striving for those sounds, those looks. He kissed Dale hard, bruising his lips, hand squeezing tight. Heat spread over his fingers, Dale opening for him, offering him that hot, sweet mouth, those throaty cries.

  Oh. Oh, he had to surge against Dale, rubbing furiously against Dale’s hip, panting for it. Dale’s hand encouraged him, drove him harder and faster against the strong body. It took seemingly no time at all for him to shoot, his hips grinding, his cock throbbing.

  “Oh. Shit. I can smell you. So good….” The words were whispered against his throat.

  He nodded, letting his chin and cheek rub Dale’s soft hair, letting his lips trace one sharp cheekbone. A man could easily become addicted to such a lover. The touch of tongue to his throat was sweet, warm, Dale lapping his skin.

  Stroking Dale’s back, Gen moved as close as he could without sharing skin, and licked sweat from Dale’s neck. “Can you stay?”

  “Yes. I’d like that.” Dale nuzzled, eyelashes tickling him.

  He eased, his hold still tight but not squeezing as he realized he had been. He hadn’t wanted Dale to go. Gen smiled ruefully against Dale’s skin. He was probably the worst kind of fool.

  But for now, he was a fool who had exactly what he wanted.

  MAN, THE closer it got to Christmas? The less people tipped. Dale guessed that was sorta cool from the ho-ho-ho standpoint, because dollars in G-strings? Not Christmassy. Still, he was going to have to sell blood if shit didn’t pick up.

  Either that or work at McD’s….

  Nah. He had lots of blood.

  He danced through his three songs, sort of going through the motions, daydreaming a little. Working it a little.

  Not like anyone was really there, nobody who was going to give up the cash, at any rate. He barely had enough to tip out when he was done, damn near enough to buy dinner at McD’s instead of work there. Which was when Manny caught him.

  “Hey, Dee. Your big tipper is here, man.”

  “My who?” Oh, man. Man, that would be…. So fucking cool. He’d spent the hottest few days of his whole life in bed with Gen, making love and goofing off and having a ball.

  “That guy. The one who was here giving you hundreds. He’s up in the box. Asking for you.” Manny gave him a big-assed grin and a thumbs-up.

  “Oh. ’Kay. Cool.” He headed up, taking a second to wipe his forehead, his pits, grab a mint—just in case.

  Oh. Damn. It was Gen, sure enough, sitting there like he owned the whole place—charcoal-gray suit and deep red tie setting the right picture.

  “Hello, Da—Dee. How are you?”

  He smiled, nodded, cock filling a little. “Good to see you, sir. Real good.”

  Gen’s eyes were dark, hooded, his hands sitting loose on his thighs. “Good to see you too. I’ve been looking forward to it.”

  “You want a dance or….” He wasn’t whoring. He’d lose the money to spend another night up close and personal. Touching. Getting touched.

  Those pretty eyes twinkled. “I would, yes. And then I would like to discuss what you might be doing after work, caro.”

  He nodded, the husky voice a fucking turn-on. He started moving, finding the music’s beat. He’d never cared about whether he was hot, whether he was sexy, but now he was working to make it good for Gen, to make it hot.

  He was hoping it wasn’t gonna come off as silly, but it didn’t look like Gen thought it was, not the way the guy was rubbing his thigh right below his package. That stare was all about the gonna-eat-you-up.

  He went from interested to hard, the second song dark and sultry, the lights going dim.

  “Mmm.” There was that hum he’d learned to love in the short time they’d been together, had learned to lo
ok for. Gen was interested too. Shit, he could practically smell it. He ducked behind his hat, fingers sliding down his belly, along the waistband of the chaps.

  The music cranked up a notch, the beat really driving, and Gen watched him, touched every bit of him with those eyes. Waiting. His cock was hard enough to cut glass, thighs aching as he worked, pumping his hips, fucking the air.

  “Oh, Dee. Want.” A glance from under the brim of his hat showed him that Gen was trying hard not to touch himself, hands clenched now instead of loose, cock thick and obvious under the fine suit pants.

  “Fuck, Gen. Me too. Wanna go somewhere?” He fucking needed it, needed to touch.

  “Yes. I have a condo….” Gen looked… well, like he was blushing. Made Dale stare.

  A condo? Here? In Houston? “Okay. My truck’s in the parking lot. Let me get my jeans?”

  “Yes. Wait.” Gen dug out some bills. “I do not wish you to get in trouble with your boss. Just remember, that is why I gave you money, caro. No other reason. I will meet you outside?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be two shakes.” He wanted to kiss Gen so fucking bad, so he backed away and headed to the dressing room. Okay. Jeans. Sweater. Jacket. Hat.

  Down boy. You still gotta drive somewhere.

  Gen’s big car was there, just like before, and the door opened when he came out. “Would you like to follow me, or leave your truck here and ride with me?”

  “I’ll ride with you, if you don’t mind.” His truck was safe enough, and he wanted to be able to touch Gen.

  “Come, then.” Sliding over, Gen beckoned him, and as soon as the door closed behind him, Gen’s hands were on him, pulling him close. The fabric of Gen’s fancy suit was soft under his hands, Gen’s whiskers rough in contrast.

  He reached up, drawing Gen’s head down, fingers in those springy curls. The kiss was heated, wild, all the gentle explorations of their last meeting fading away. Hand flattening at the small of his back, Gen pulled him even closer, like the man was trying to crawl right into him. Tongue pushing into his mouth, Gen groaned, licking and biting at him. His leg scooted up over Gen’s, hooking around to tug them together, hips rocking and rubbing against Gen’s thigh.