Page 2

CHAPTER 2

NATE

The dancefloor pulsates with bodies, a living, writhing organism. I grip the guy’s hand tighter as we weave through the crowd, his slender fingers intertwined with mine. This is exactly what I needed tonight—someone to lose myself in, to forget everything else. And damn, did I hit the jackpot.

I glance down at him as we near the exit. His lithe body moves with a grace that makes my mouth go dry, all lean muscle and smooth skin. Those hot pants should be illegal. I swallow hard, torn between wanting to devour him whole and being hyperaware of how I must look—a hulking giant next to his compact frame.

“You good?” I lean to half-shout in his ear, trying to soften my voice.

He nods, flashing me a dazzling smile.

“So,” I say as we step outside, the cool night air a shock after the sweltering club, “my hotel’s just down the block. But we could go somewhere else if you prefer?” I search his face, hoping I don’t come across as some creep trying to lure him away. The last thing I want is for him to feel unsafe.

His eyebrows arch behind his glittery mask. “Worried about me, big guy?” He gives my hand a squeeze. “I promise I can take care of myself. Unless…” He trails off, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Are you having second thoughts?”

I grin, my heart racing with anticipation. “No second thoughts here, I promise. Just a very strong desire to get you somewhere warm.” I rub my hands over his exposed arms, feeling the goosebumps on his skin. “You’re freezing. Those hot pants aren’t exactly made for Vermont winters, are they?”

He shivers, leaning into my touch. “Maybe I was counting on finding a big, strong man to keep me warm.”

“Well, you found one,” I say, my voice low and urgent. “Let’s get you inside before you turn into an icicle.”

We hurry down the street, the cold forgotten in our eagerness. At the hotel, I fumble with the key card, hyperaware of his body pressed against mine. Finally, the door swings open.

As we enter my room, I’m suddenly self-conscious. Did I leave dirty clothes on the floor? Is the bed made? Christ, why do I even care?

“Sorry if it’s a mess,” I mutter, glancing around.

He laughs. “Trust me, I’m not here for the housekeeping.”

But before I can dwell on it, he’s tugging me toward him, eyes gleaming with desire. “Enough small talk, big guy. Show me what you’ve got.”

I don’t need to be told twice. In one fluid motion, I scoop him up and toss him onto the bed, relishing his surprised gasp. I climb on top of him, drinking in his flushed cheeks and parted lips.

“You’re beautiful,” I say before capturing his mouth in a searing kiss.

Our lips meet, and it’s like a circuit completing. Electric. Urgent. His hands are in my hair, tugging me closer as I explore the curves of his body. I can taste the sweetness and smokiness of the whiskey he had at the club, mixed with something uniquely him.

I’m glad that despite the feathery decorations on the guy’s mask, it doesn’t get in the way as we kiss.

“God, you feel so good,” I breathe against his neck, lost in the moment.

His hands roam over my back, pulling me closer as our tongues dance. I can’t remember the last time I felt this…alive. This connected to another person. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

His fingers begin to fumble with the buttons of my shirt, small and deft, pushing each one through its hole with a teasing slowness that’s agonizing and thrilling. They slip underneath the fabric, tracing shapes along my skin, leaving trails of fire. “Too many clothes,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice husky.

I shudder, grappling with the urge to just rip the material off. But this slow discovery, this gradual unveiling he’s orchestrating, feels too intoxicating to rush.

I manage to get a hold of his shirt—somehow even more flimsy than those scandalous hot pants—and pull it over his head, mindful to keep his mask in place. His skin under my hands is smooth and cold from the winter air yet rapidly warming under my touch. Every curve and dip of his muscles feels like the map to paradise.

My fingers find the hem of his ridiculously sexy hot pants, tugging gently. He lifts his hips obligingly, allowing me to peel the fabric over his thighs and down his legs, revealing more of that smooth, tan skin I’ve been dying to touch all night.

The fishnet tights are harder to remove, and in my impatience, I end up tearing them.

“Oh my,” he gasps.

“Sorry. My hands are too big.”

He smiles. “Oh, honey, I’m not upset you ripped the tights. Keep going, and you’ll see how very not upset I am.”

I knew he couldn’t be wearing boxer shorts, but lacy white panties were not what I was expecting.

“You can rip those too.” And with his permission, I do. He gasps again as his hard cock is released from its lacy confines.

His cock isn’t super thick, but it’s longer than I would have expected for someone so petite.

I give him a few tugs, loving how he moans as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fuck, I love that sound. You’re stunning.”

He reaches for the buttons on my jeans, but with our height difference, it’s a little awkward, so I do it for him, removing my underwear at the same time.

My cock, hard and heavy, slaps against my belly.

“You’re definitely not so bad yourself, handsome,” he says.

I chuckle, trailing kisses along his jaw. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, arching into me. “Prove it.”

My lips trail down his neck, savoring the salt of his skin. “So perfect,” I murmur, tracing the contours of his collarbone with my tongue.

He responds with a low moan that sends shivers down my spine.

“You like that?” I ask, my voice husky.

He arches into me. “Don’t stop.”

I continue my journey south, mapping his body with reverent kisses. “You’re like a work of art,” I whisper against his chest. “Your skin is like silk.” My hands roam over his sides, feeling the strength in his lithe frame.

His fingers tangle in my hair, guiding me. The sounds he makes are intoxicating, spurring me on.

My mouth waters at the prospect of feeling his cock in my mouth, so I go for it. He tastes sweet, like fruit, and I know that after tonight, I will never get his smell, his taste out of my head.

I do my best to take him to the back of my throat, but he’s too long, and all I can think of is how good he would feel inside me, his beautiful length filling me and rubbing against my prostate with every thrust.

His back arches off the bed, a gasp escaping his lips. “Nghh…please…”

When I move back up to capture his lips again, his hands slide to my face. For a moment, I’m lost in the kiss. Then I feel his fingers at the edge of my mask.

Gently, I catch his wrists. “Let’s keep them on,” I suggest softly.

He pauses, then nods. “Kinky. I like it.”

I chuckle, relieved. “Glad you approve.”

He pauses. His brown eyes, even darker with desire, lock onto mine. “Speaking of approving,” he says, voice low, “I’d very much like to blow you now.”

My breath catches. “Who am I to argue with that?”

As he pushes me onto my back, I marvel at the way his body moves, all lithe grace and barely contained energy. My hands skim down his sides, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my palms. “I want you so badly.”

“Well, big boy, tonight I’m all yours.”

He moves down my body, his hands tracing every inch of my heated skin. He doesn’t hide his appreciation of my body, and it gives me a confidence boost.

It’s always hit-or-miss whether guys will like the lack of muscle in my belly or expect more definition.

I’m a big guy. I work outside and lead a generally active lifestyle, but trying for a six-pack was never my goal. So yeah, my belly is a little round. My ex used to say I have a dad-bod, whatever that means.

What I can see is that this guy likes it. He kisses my belly, slowly moving down, and then he stops.

“Oh, look at that, I really am in Vermont.” He traces the birthmark on my hip that looks like a maple leaf.

So, I guess he’s probably not from here, which tracks with his sun-kissed skin. I’d like to know where he’s from, but it was my idea to keep the masks on, right? I can’t ask now.

He continues his exploration of my body, getting closer and closer to my flushed cock. He grins as he strokes me, his hand doing a twisting motion that makes stars appear behind my eyes.

He flashes a set of perfectly white teeth behind his mask before my brain goes offline when he swallows my cock like he was born to do it.

“Fucking, fuck!”

He swallows around the head of my cock, and it takes everything in me not to thrust up. I open my legs, and he takes the message. Suddenly, his eyes meet mine as his finger teases my hole. Sweat beads behind my mask as the telltale signs of an impending orgasm build.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to come,” I warn.

He stops and moves up my body, kissing me.

“What do you want, big boy?”

I hate that I can’t see his face behind the mask, but that was my idea, so I’m not backing out. His eyes are impossibly dark and begging me to make the right decision. As much as I would love him to fill me up, there’s something about the way he looks at me that changes my mind.

“I want… I need to be inside you.”

His dark-brown eyes sparkle with mischief, the warm chocolate color seeming to dance with flecks of amber in the light. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

I reach for the toiletry bag I left on the bedside table, nearly knocking over the lamp in my eagerness.

My fingers fumble with the lube and condom, suddenly clumsy with anticipation. He notices, chuckling softly as he takes them from me. “Let me,” he purrs, voice low and seductive.

I watch, mesmerized, as he rolls the condom on me with practiced ease. Then he’s straddling my hips, and I can barely breathe. “You good?” I ask, wanting—needing—to be sure.

“More than good.” He opens the cap on the small bottle of lube and adds some to his fingers. Then he reaches behind himself. His eyes never leave me as he works himself open until he’s ready for me.

“You’re incredible,” I breathe, running my hands up his thighs.

He grins, leaning down to kiss me deeply. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

The anticipation is electric as he positions himself. I hold my breath, our gazes locked.

“Ready?” he asks softly.

I nod, unable to form words. And then, slowly, exquisitely, he sinks down onto me.

The sensation is overwhelming. I grip his hips, fighting for control. “Oh god,” I groan.

He starts to move, finding a rhythm that has us both gasping. The masked stranger above me becomes my entire world—the roll of his hips, the flex of his muscles, the soft sounds of pleasure escaping his lips.

“God, you feel amazing,” I groan, gripping his hips. “So tight, so perfect.”

He throws his head back, exposing the long line of his throat, and responds by increasing his pace. I’m lost. Everything narrows down to this moment, this connection. I thrust up to meet him, our bodies moving in perfect synchronicity.

The intensity builds, a crescendo of sensation and emotion. I can feel myself getting close, teetering on the edge.

The room fills with our ragged breathing, punctuated by soft moans and the occasional curse. I can feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter in my core.

“I’m close,” I warn him, my voice barely more than a whisper.

“Me too,” he gasps, increasing his pace. “Touch me. Please.”

I wrap my hand around him, stroking in time with our movements. It only takes a few moments before he’s crying out, his body tensing as he finds his release. The sight and feel of him coming undone pushes me over the edge, and I follow him into blissful oblivion.

As we come down from our high, he collapses onto my chest, both of us breathing heavily. I wrap my arms around him, savoring the moment.

We lie tangled together, trying to catch our breaths. Despite the mask, I can see the satisfied smile on his face, and I’m sure it mirrors my own.

“That was…” I trail off, unable to find words adequate enough.

He chuckles softly. “Yeah, it was.”

As our heartbeats slow, I’m struck by how right this feels. How, even without knowing his name, I feel more connected to him than I have to anyone in a long time.

I’m still catching my breath when he shifts, lifting himself off me with a soft groan. “Don’t move,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before sliding off the bed.

I watch when he gracefully moves off the bed, admiring the lines of his body. As he disappears into the bathroom, I carefully remove the condom, tying a knot and throwing it in the trash can by the bed.

He returns with a damp washcloth, his movements gentle as he cleans me up. “You didn’t have to do that,” I say, surprised by the consideration.

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “I wanted to.”

As he turns to toss the cloth toward the bathroom, I find myself studying the curve of his spine, the way his hair curls slightly at the nape of his neck. It’s ridiculous how much I want to reach out and touch him again.

“So,” he says, breaking the silence as he gathers his clothes. “I guess this is where the magic ends, huh?”

“Yeah…” I start, not sure what I’m even going to say. “That was fun.”

He pauses while pulling on his tight shorts—the ones that first caught my eye on the dancefloor. “It really was,” he agrees, his voice warm. “You did good, Big Guy.”

I chuckle, propping myself up on my elbows. “Right back at you, Mystery Man.”

He finishes dressing and comes to sit on the edge of the bed. His hand finds mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “For what it’s worth, this was probably the best New Year’s Eve I’ve had in a long time.”

“Me too,” I admit, and it’s the truth.

He leans in, his lips brushing mine in a soft, lingering kiss. “Happy New Year,” he whispers against my mouth before pulling away.

I watch him walk to the door, a strange mix of emotions swirling in my chest. “Happy New Year,” I call out as he reaches for the handle.

He turns, flashing me one last smile before slipping into the hall. The click of the door closing echoes in the sudden silence of the room.

I flop back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. What the hell just happened? It was supposed to be a simple hookup, a way to ring in the new year with a bang—pun absolutely intended.

I close my eyes, picturing his smile, the way he moved, the unexpected kindness in his gestures. For the first time in years, I find myself curious about someone, wanting to know more.

“Who are you?” I wonder aloud, a mix of longing and curiosity settling in my chest as sleep begins to claim me.