Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I half expect that this is an ambush by some of Sullivan’s stragglers and stiffen, ready to maim and kill, but no, we are led through a thick velvet curtain to a room resonating with a mix of slow, sensual electronic music and moans. I’m hit with a dense cloud of diffused perfume, liquor, and distilled lust. The lights are dimmed, the whole space has a warm coloring of reds, a few pink spotlights, and black walls that cool off the boudoir vibe. While a few Christmas decorations feature here in the form of tinsel and pine, there are no baubles. After all, no one wants to risk breaking one and then sitting their naked ass on it.
Just as Carl and Timoly said, clothing is optional. Some men, like us, are fully dressed, while others don’t even have a single sequin to cover their nakedness. I have my arm around Eli’s waist as he looks around wide-eyed. Closer to the door, men seated on black leather couches talk, drink, and watch a stripper in a jockstrap resembling a Santa hat dance around a pole. But my hearing is just as sharp as my sense of smell. Farther down, behind wide open doors, there’s skin slapping against skin, moans loud enough to be heard over the music, and I spot a naked man passing from that room to this one. He is wearing a half-mask that transforms him into a rabbit-human hybrid with a huge erection jutting from above a leather cock ring.
Carl waves his hand toward the couches and the other room. “If you’re feeling lost or need anything, just approach the bartender. Other than that, have fun!” Did he wink at Eli? He better not have.
“Merry Christmas,” I mumble into Eli’s ear as strangers assess the new arrivals. It’s not too crowded. I can see, perhaps ten guys, though I assume there’s more of them where the horny rabbit came from.
“Oh my, God,” Eli whispers and squeezes my hand. “Is it okay to look? I’ve never been to something like this.”
“We can later go farther in. How about a drink first?” I ask, leading him to the bar manned by a bartender dressed in the same outfit I’ve seen on all other staff members. I order a mocktail for myself, and a piña colada for Eli, then lean against the counter to take in the atmosphere.
A man wearing a green velvet suit eyes us with something more than curiosity, but I choose to ignore him and focus on my lover, who stares at the stripper showing off his considerable skills. “You can look, but don’t touch,” I tell him, whispering straight into his silver hair. Later tonight, I’ll pull the band off his hair and make it messy again, the way I like to see him after a long fuck.
Eli holds up his hand. “Oh, I wouldn’t! I’m just curious about it all. You’re still the most handsome guy here anyway.” He grins and gives me a kiss. “But you… You won’t miss this, right? Picking a different guy each Friday?”
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’t picking them. 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 not Santa!” 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.