Page 64 of The Secret
My jaw locked. “I suppose that’s true.”
Con finally turned his head to fully acknowledge Thomas with a look hot enough to singe paper… and not in a good way. “Then it’s just as well I’m not looking for either one, isn’t it?”
To me, he gave a sultry smile. “Come on.” He grabbed a handful of my shirt and towed me away from the bar.
“So you’re the one leading the way this time?” I said, low and amused as I followed him to the dance floor.
He looked back over his shoulder. “You complaining?”
I wasn’t. Not even a little. I wrapped my arms around Con’s waist as we reached the crowded dance floor and pulled him back against me.
Christ.
The way we fit was fucking sublime.Perfection. He was nearly my height, and my rapidly-hardening cock ground against the top of his ass with every sway of his hips, every pulse of the music. He threaded our hands together, right and left, then pulled my right arm up across his chest, locking us in place. He leaned back, letting his head rest on my shoulder, and we moved together as one song bled into another and another.
Everything with Constantine was new and different. Not the dancing, but the synchronicity of our movements. Not the way he pressed his body against me, but the way he did it with total trust. Not the bump and slide that let my conscious thoughts fade and my instincts take over, but the way it didn’t feel like losing myself in the rhythm, but like finding myself with Constantine.
WithConstantine, who was my exact match in so many fucking ways.
The hand I had wrapped around his waist slid lower, so my thumb was tucked into his waistband behind the button of his jeans and my fingers were splayed against the hardness beneath his zipper. My breath hitched.
“Fuck,” he breathed as I lowered my lips to his neck and licked a path to his ear. I worried the lobe with my teeth. “Micah.” He squirmed against me and turned around.
Constantine’s eyes were liquid, endless, trusting, which ratcheted up my own arousal to a fever pitch. There was no question of what he wanted, no question ofwhohe wanted. He slid his arms up my chest deliberately and locked his wrists behind my neck, claiming me like he had back at the bar. I’d seen him aroused and needy, I’d seen himwant.But I’d never seen him possessive before. I’d never seen himtake.
Jesus, I thought,I could live on this look for the rest of my life.And the thought made me stick my hands in the back pockets of his jeans and pull him even closer, so I could grind our cocks together.
He sucked in a breath and his eyes sharpened, focused. He pulled my head down.
“We’re leaving,” he said in my ear. “As innow.”
I pulled back and licked my lips. “Yeah? I was thinking the back hall is closer.” I nodded my head in that direction. “We could discuss employment opportunities. You could show me your skillset in certain areas… or I could demonstrate what’s expected of candidates for the position. In case you forgot the example I provided last time.”
He bit his lip and pushed his fingers into my hair, tugging the short strandshard. “I have a very different position in mind, Micah Bloom. And the back hall wouldn’t be appropriate for this demonstration.”
My heart slammed against my chest and I could feel adrenaline flood my system.
“Your car or mine?”
“Yours.” He leaned closer, so I could feel his warm breath on my lips and practicallytastethe cherry sweetness of his mouth. I knew as soon as our lips met, this pent-up electricity between us was going to explode and destroy any last vestige of control I possessed. For once in my life, I didn’t care.
At the last minute, he seemed to change his mind and he closed his teeth over my bottom lip instead. I groaned at the sting.
“Your truck has much more room to maneuver,” he said, and before I could process what he meant, he’d hooked his finger in the front loop of my belt, and he was pulling me across the floor again.
When we reached the cooler air of the parking lot, he dropped his hand.
“You’re gonna need to take a step away.” His voice was raspy and he reached down to adjust himself in the dim yellow glow of the street lights. My cock throbbed against my zipper with painful intensity in response.
“Over there.” I pointed toward the side of the building.
The same group of smokers stood in the shadow at the corner of the building, maybe a little drunker now, definitely a lot louder. One of them, an older guy I’d shot darts with once or twice, stepped forward and gave Con a bleary smile.
“Leaving early tonight, Cinderella? Clock ain’t even struck midnight yet.”
“Night, Stu,” Con said shortly.
“Aw, not even time for a chat? Never seen you this eager before,” the man chuckled. “Musta found you a Prince Charming instead of a pumpkin.” Stu’s group laughed uproariously, like his nonsense was hilarious.
