Page 47 of Festive Fugitive
How is that even a question when I feel so safe in his presence I’ve dozed off with my head in his lap? But he is serious, so I clear my throat and bring his hand to my lips. “I wasn’tpickingthem. I was binging on enough sex to tide me over to the next week. They really were just bodies, because I wasn’t allowed any attachments,” I say as my gaze drifts toward two laughing guys on the other end of the bar. One of them wears only a candy-cane patterned jockstrap, the other—a tight Santa outfit, complete with a fake beard.
“No, I’m notSanta!” he exclaims to his friend. “Don’t you see the wavy wig?” He points to his head and picks up the hat to show off his silver hair. “I’m the Festive Fugitive.”
The other man rolls his eyes. “Hm. Bit grim.”
“Is it? The guy took out some serial killer-level psycho. Good riddance, if you ask me. Literally gay twink icon. Hope they never find him. What do you guys think?” He pulls down his beard to have a sip of his margarita and looks at us. “Festive Fugitive. Yay or nay?”
Eli smirks. “What do you think, Wolf? Yay or nay?”
A warm shiver descends my back when he calls me that, but I don’t let anyone see how much of an effect this has on me and shrug. “Law is corrupt. That is why we should all be pro-justice rather than pro-law. If I ever get the chance to meet the Festive Fugitive, I’m going to give him the head of his life.”
The two men down the bar laugh and raise their glasses while Eli hides his big smile behind his piña colada. He’s so adorable I want to take him to the back rooms already. Me as the wolf, him as my prey.
“He might be the only guy I’d let my boyfriend fuck who isn’t me.” Eli winks at me and pulls on my hand. Seems he’s ready to explore.
“Isn’t he right here, though?” the Santa asks, spreading his arms to show off the way the red coat opens to reveal a smooth chest.
“I’m sure there will be takers,” I tell him, making it playful so his ego remains unbruised as I let Eli pull me toward the doorway dividing us from a room that smells of sweat, cum, and poppers.
“I think it would stress me out to be here on my own,” Eli whispers as his gaze drifts off to ogle a couple going at it on a couch under red lights.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m more of a boyfriend type. I don’t want some stranger’s hands on me, no matter how hot he might be.”
“Good,” I say and sip on my mocktail as the other room reveals itself in its dusky glory.
“For the other guy,” Eli teases with a smirk. He knows me too well.
It’s not that big of a party, but there are more than enough guys within sight to satisfy everyone. The furniture is clad in easily removable covers some poor soul will need to launder first thing tomorrow, but it’s Christmas Eve, and quite a few of the men I’m seeing are intent on collecting their presents early.
The colorful spotlights pulse to the rhythm of the music, as if this whole interior, and all the bodies within it are sharing the same pulse.
“He better keep his hands to himself,” I say, watching a broad-shouldered guy fuck someone in the very back. Three weeks ago, this could have been me, desperate to satisfy all my cravings on a single Friday evening.
Now I’m not beholden to any masters, yet here I am, craving the same man every single day.
As we drift to a wall offering an excellent view of the entire space, I sense Eli’s pulse quickening when I move my thumb over his wrist.
“I bet you now regret you didn’t get off,” he teases and slides his hand over my cock.
Bad boy.
“That’s… so cruel,” I whisper, retracting my hips until my ass is flat against the wall. But hope rises inside me. He can’t remove his mask, or reveal any identifying marks, but hecouldjerk me off…
Would that be enough to let off some steam at this point? I do like that even with all the studs and fucking around, his attention is still on me.
Eli downs his drink and grins. “I don’t know how I’d feel about someone watching us fuck. I think I’m too shy for that after all. Even in the mask. I want only you to see my body open up and my legs tremble.”
Oh, he issodoing this on purpose. Planting the idea in my head so a mix of jealousy and arousal twists me up. I’d say he will regret it later, but he’ll probably enjoy the hell of the rough fuck I’ll unleash on him.
“You’re teasing me,” I say, pulling him back to the bar space. “Is that what good boys do to their boyfriends?”
“Who said I’m a good boy?” Eli asks, picking up my hand and licking the sensitive part between my thumb and forefinger. The shiver it elicits goes all the way to my dick. He’s drunk. But I like seeing him like this. Free and playful.
He’s quite possibly the handsomest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. How can I resist him?
“You two probably can’t wait to join the fun in the other room,” Timoly says, appearing at our side out of nowhere, his eyes flickering behind the simple mask he’s wearing. I swear that name has to be fake.
