Page 31 of Convenient Rivals

Gregory appeared rooted to the spot, although his face wasn’t giving anything away. It was only because Oscar had his arm round him that he could feel how rigid his body was. He pulled Gregory in front of him and pushed him forward towards the dance floor.

Once they were there, Oscar gripped Gregory by the hand and hip. Christmas music was playing, but it was classical, and everyone was waltzing around the floor.

“Do you want to lead?”

“I think that would look a little strange,” said Gregory, with a smirk.

“Are you okay?”

“I think if my mother had heat vision, I’d be dead right now.”

Oscar snorted, and starting moving them around the dance floor. They both moved without even thinking. This dancing had been instilled in them at a young age, so it came naturally.

He was aware people were watching them, and there were some whisperings. Not because they were two men – those times were in the past, and one thing Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam-Smythe couldn’t stand was bigots. No, this would be about the love-hate relationship their mothers had. The onlookers were no doubt titillated by the possibility of a scandal.

In less than a minute, the chatter had quietened and they were happily moving around the dance floor. It was a delightful feeling, having Gregory in his arms, and knowing he was comfortable not taking the lead here even though he was in complete control in the bedroom... And that wasn’t what he should be thinking about right now.

“Are you hard?” whispered Gregory.

“Noticed that, did you?”

“Bit difficult to ignore when it’s pressing into my stomach. You better take care of that somewhere.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Take care of it, and I’ll see you by the bar.”

“I thought you said we weren’t going to do anything.”

“And we’re not, but I’m supposed to be your boyfriend, and when I’m your boyfriend, you need my permission to come.”

“Fuck!”

“No, but you can think of me doing that whilst you wank yourself off in the toilet.”

Gregory smiled at him and pulled away, walking towards the bar without looking back. Oscar was standing in the middle of the dance floor with a tent pole in his tight trousers. Was Gregory winding him up, or was he really going to be in control of his orgasms for the next year without ever touching him? Why did that sound horrendous and incredible at the same time? He wasn’t sure, but the only thing he could do right now was get off the dance floor and follow the orders he’d been given.

Oscar left the bathroom, feeling like he was floating. That had been a quick and dirty wank, but he felt better for it. Just thinking about Gregory fucking him meant he’d come in less than two minutes. He was heading to the bar when he felt someone grab his arm. They had one hell of a grip on him, and he was about to shake them off when he realised who it was.

“Mother.”

“Don’t think you can avoid me all night, Oscar.”

“I wasn’t, but I need to get back to Gregory.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Is something wrong?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Don’t try that with me. What are you playing at? Gregory Balfour? You can do so much better than that.”

“I thought you liked Gregory.”

“I do, but look at what he comes from. His parents don’t have a pot to piss in and as for his brother... mixed up with mobsters. I will not have our family name associated with riff-raff.”

Oscar couldn’t help but laugh.

“This isn’t a joke, Oscar. This is deadly serious. You will break things off with that boy and take Harrison to the New Year’s Eve ball. The same people will be there, and they’ll know that you’ve come to your senses.”

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