Page 11

Chapter 11

Elijah Grant

“You made it.” I could recognize my best friend’s smile anywhere, even when half his face was covered by a tiger-striped mask. It flared out around the corners, giving him the appearance of having animal-like ears. Like every other guy at the party, he was also naked.

I’d seen Zack nude before. Hell, we’d even fooled around once or twice. It was pretty common with gay guys. We liked dick and had a good time playing with them, so it came naturally sometimes. With Zack, it had been fun, but after a particularly drunken night when Zack admitted he might have been developing more intense feelings for me, I decided to take a step back from hooking up with him. I loved him to death, but I couldn’t see myself with him in a romantic sense.

“I did. Guess that date fell through?” I asked him, taking a sip from my nuclear-powered drink.

“Yeah. Figured I should come check this out. Hot, huh?”

“Very,” I said, turning my attention out toward the open space, where one man jerked off two beefy, hairy guys on the couch.

Zack put an arm around my shoulders and playfully bumped into my side. I smiled and bumped him back. I could tell he was getting turned on. “Have you checked out the upstairs?” Zack asked.

I shook my head. “There’s an upstairs?”

“Yeah, through that hall. There’s more playrooms up there; some are private. One’s got a sex swing.”

“Damn, maybe I’ll do a lap and check it out.” I wanted to subtly separate from Zack. I didn’t want him to feel bad that I wasn’t looking to fuck around with him. It wasn’t like we had come to this thing together, but still, I was the kind of guy who cared about everyone’s feelings—sometimes more than my own.

“Cool, I’ll come with.”

There went my subtle exit. Did I just flat out tell him that I wanted some space tonight? Would that hurt his feelings?

“Zack, I…”

My breath hitched. I locked focus on that man with the black leather mask. He leaned against the wall, holding one leg up, his thick cock hanging like a tree trunk. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I could tell his attention was on me. He cocked his head, and his lips—such sexy fucking lips—slanted into half-a-grin. He swirled the drink in his hand and took a sip. I watched his throat bob up and down, his smile still aimed directly at me.

“Eli? Hello?”

“What? Sorry, got distracted.”

“Easy place for that to happen.”

“You said the rooms upstairs were private?” I asked.

“Mhmm. You can lock the doors.”

There was a brief pause. I had the impression that Zack wanted me to bring him to one of those rooms.

“I think there’s a guy across the room that’s been eyeing me. I’m gonna approach him.” There. That would surely make things more obvious.

“Which one is it?” Zack asked, scanning the horny crowd. “The one with that shitty red Party City mask?”

I chuckled. Zack was as snarky as he was oblivious. “No, the leather mask. He’s standing against the wall. Don’t look and make it obvious.” I chugged another burning gulp of mainly vodka and shook out my shoulders. “Alright, have fun tonight.” I leaned in and gave Zack a friendly kiss on the cheek. He offered me a smile and a wink before he turned and walked away, disappearing down the hall.

The man with the leather mask stood in the same position, except he cupped and gently massaged his balls now. His attention still felt focused on me. Or was I making that up? It was difficult to tell.

And also… did I recognize him? Why did he look a lot like the detective I was quickly becoming infatuated with?

They had the same build. Same jaw. And that smile…

No. It wasn’t him. Of course it wasn’t him. I just couldn’t shake Benji off my mind. If I looked hard enough, I’d probably find similarities between him and a brown paper bag.

The vodka was starting to have its effect on me. My muscles began to warm, to loosen. My thoughts became cloudy, already frazzled by the number of hot, naked men there were around me. Grunts and moans and slurps and “oh fucks” filled the air.

Fuck it. Time to get some.

I finished my drink and set the empty glass on the bar. I walked across the room, the smooth wood floor cold under my bare feet. Maybe because my entire job was to be naked in front of people and get paid for it, I didn’t feel anywhere near self-conscious or weird about walking toward this handsome man with my dick swinging.

The man must have realized I was headed in his direction. He planted his foot on the ground, his thighs thick and juicy. Just how I liked my men.

Yeah, tonight was going to be a great time.

Parties like these were all about fucking around. A buffet of different cocks and asses to feast on. But I doubted I would have been disappointed if my entire night was spent with this guy. He just ticked my boxes, and I couldn’t even see the majority of his head.

Maybe I’d get a face reveal by the end of the night?

A man with long brown hair stepped directly in front of me and went for my leather-masked target. He draped himself on the guy, nuzzling into his neck and saying something that I couldn’t hear over the loud music.

Ahhh, fuck. I wasn’t fast enough.

Damn it.

I made a smooth turn to the right and left the two alone. Whatever. There were plenty of other hot, mask-wearing men I could distract myself with.

I walked down the dimly lit hall into a room with floor-to-ceiling windows that had a spectacular view of Central Park.

It wasn’t the landscape that the people in this room focused on, though.

There were two men on a mattress in the center of the room. They appeared to be putting on a show. One of the men, silver-haired with tribal tattoos crisscrossing his bicep and chest, was thrusting into a moaning blond bottom, his legs hitched up on the silver fox’s shoulders, his toes curled and his hands fisted in the silky black sheets.

I looked over my shoulder, slightly hopeful that the leather-masked man had ditched his desperate-looking suitor and followed me instead.

Nope. No sign of him.

One of the men watching the show paused his strokes and smiled at me. He wore a velvet red mask that looked like it belonged on the set of a TV show about old British royalty.

He was hot, but… I don’t know. He didn’t give me the same spark I felt earlier.

The man in the red velvet mask stepped closer, his body language shifting from relaxed to something more predatory . His gaze raked over me, sharp beneath the dim golden light from the chandelier, his lips curving into something between a smirk and a sneer.

“You looking for a good time?” His voice was smooth, too smooth, like he was trying too hard to be seductive.

It didn’t work on me. I wasn’t into it.

I offered a polite but guarded smile. “I think I’m just browsing for now.”

Red Velvet didn’t move. Instead, he took another half step forward, closing the space between us, forcing me to tilt my chin up slightly to meet his eyes. I wasn’t small by any means, but this guy had height and muscle on his side.

Unwanted pressure slithered into my chest.

“C’mon,” he murmured. “You came here for a reason, didn’t you?” His fingers brushed my hip, featherlight but unmistakable. His hard cock pressed against my soft one. “And from what I hear… you like to put on a good show.”

A shiver crawled down my spine.

That—that wasn’t something a stranger should know.

I froze, my brain scrambling to rationalize, to tell myself this guy had just heard about me here, that he was making an educated guess. That it didn’t mean he knew who I was.

But my instincts screamed something different.

Nomad?

Was this him? Could he have somehow gotten in?

My pulse spiked, but I kept my face carefully neutral, calculating my next move.

I wasn’t a coward. I had dealt with creeps before. It came with the territory of my work, the nature of my online presence. I also wasn’t scared of throwing a fist or two. I grew up under the idea that it was bad to back down. I didn’t like allowing other people to have control over me or to talk shit about me. I came from a small town in Iowa where the straight bullies only responded to fists and insults.

But this? This was different.

This was too close. Too dangerous.

“How, uh, what do you mean?” I asked, already stumbling on my words.

“I spoke to someone earlier. A friend of yours. He pointed you out. Said to follow you on your CamStar account. You should thank him. Looks like he’s a good manager.”

Huh, so that’s how he knew.

I chuckled, even though my hackles were still raised. This was uncomfortable. Zack making small talk with some random guy didn’t give him the right to approach me so aggressively. “So? Want to put on a show with me?”

He reached out again. He grabbed my wrist, tried to pull my hand toward his dick.

I stepped back, putting deliberate distance between us. “I appreciate the offer,” I said, keeping my tone even, “but I think I’ll pass.”

Red Velvet didn’t budge. If anything, his smirk widened. “Don’t be shy now. I’m just being friendly.”

My stomach twisted. The room—once filled with nothing but erotic heat—felt smaller now, the air heavier, like it had been stripped of oxygen.

I scanned the room, searching for an escape, for anyone who might step in, but everyone else was too distracted—watching the couple on the mattress, engrossed in their own affairs.

Fuck.

I should have left when I had the chance.

I shouldn’t have even?—

A shadow moved behind me.

Someone pressed close to my back, a solid, heat-radiating wall of muscle and silent power. I glanced over my shoulder.

The leather-masked man.

I melted backward. His scent—dark, masculine, familiar—coiled around me, sending a warm shiver down my spine.

A large, calloused hand came to rest firmly on my hip, not possessive but unmistakably claiming. He pulled me back. I allowed it, enjoying how his bare body fit so perfectly against mine.

My breath caught in my lungs. Any fear or panic I’d been experiencing vanished in thin air.

The shift in the vibe was immediate.

Red Velvet’s smirk faltered. His posture changed, the casual arrogance slipping just slightly as he took in the figure now standing behind me.

My leather-masked hero didn’t speak.

Didn’t need to.

His presence alone was a warning, radiating dominance and control.

Red Velvet swallowed, flicking his gaze between us. His jaw tightened like he was considering whether or not to push his luck.

I almost wanted him to.

Something in me thrived off the contrast—the way I felt vulnerable and protected at the same time. It sent a sharp, heady thrill through my bloodstream, settling low in my stomach. My cock twitched, and from what I felt against my lower back, it wasn’t just me who was getting turned on.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Red Velvet took a slow step back. “Didn’t realize he was taken,” he murmured, raising his hands like he was backing off.

He disappeared back into the crowd.

My shoulders loosened, but I still felt the weight of the man’s presence behind me.

I exhaled, steadying myself before tilting my head to look at him.

“That was…” I swallowed, pulse still too fast. “Thanks.”

He still didn’t speak. His lips curled—that same cocky half smirk I’d noticed earlier—but he remained silent, watching me.

Something inexplicable coiled between us, something thick and pulsing and undeniable.

It should have unnerved me. Instead, it just made me burn hotter.

I licked my lips, considering my next move.

He had rescued me.

Intervened when I needed him to.

The least I could do was pay him back.

And I knew exactly how I could do that. I turned so I was facing him, our cocks brushing together, sending delicious tendrils of pleasure through my body. I couldn’t resist kissing him, instantly becoming addicted to his taste. “Come,” I said, reaching for his hand. “Let’s find somewhere a little more private.”