“After this, wanna head back out there for another spin?”
Fuck yeah. Ezra did everything in his power not to appear overeager. “Sure.”
A molasses-slow smile spread over Lincoln’s lips. Ezra quickly drained the rest of his drink, impatient to return to the dance floor.
Time slowed. The slow slide of body against body drove them both closer to the edge. They watched the ball drop on the overhead screens and kissed each other to ring in the New Year. Another hour passed. Ezra wasn’t sure how many songs they’d danced to or how many shots he’d imbibed on the dance floor before he found himself in a men’s room stall, kissing Lincoln with all the desire he’d ever felt surging through him. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but all the exercise and heat coming from Lincoln had kept him parched.
And led them both there, making bad decisions.
Lincoln pinned him to the side of the stall, that big, beautiful body the only thing Ezra could really see.
“I… I don’t do this…” Ezra murmured, having something akin to an out-of-body experience. He wasn’t in control, his libido was. He’d never in his life made out with a guy in a public bathroom, let alone considered dropping to his knees to suck cock in one, but it was all he could think about doing, especially after feeling the thick imprint of Lincoln’s cock against his palm.
“Me, either,” Lincoln drawled against his ear. In the somewhat quieter bathroom, that southern drawl was even better than he’d expected.
Ezra lifted Lincoln’s half mask, pushing back the man’s hair. For some reason, he’d needed to see what secrets Lincoln was hiding before taking another step. He stared at the face even more gorgeous than he’d anticipated—though it could’ve been the alcohol talking, too. “Hey there, Handsome.”
Lincoln’s eyes closed for a second longer than a blink. “Hey,” Lincoln drawled as those striking, steel-blue eyes reopened. The man pushed Ezra’s half mask up, as well, cocking his head to the side. He whistled low, under his breath. “Even sexier than I imagined.”
A flush raced over Ezra’s face, but he couldn’t stop staring. They gazed into one another’s eyes a moment longer, hunger simmering there before the frantic kissing commenced once more. Lincoln massaged his ass cheeks through the tuxedo pants, his big, powerful hands cupping and clawing with need. Ezra lowered his hands between them and began working at the belt holding up Lincoln’s pants.
Lincoln drew his lips away, murmuring against Ezra’s lips. “We don’t havta—”
“I want you,” Ezra interrupted, kneading Lincoln’s cock through the material. How many wild sex stories had he heard from Hugo and his friends over the years? Bathroom sex. Alleyway rendezvous. Locker room hookups. He wanted a wild story of his own.
And it wasn’t just that. He wanted this man.
Desperately.
The hours of dancing had been all the prelude he’d needed. It had been like one long round of foreplay. Ezra was ready for the main course.
And maybe a little dessert.
Once Lincoln’s cock was freed and in his palm, he knelt on the tile floor. Trailing his fingers over the shaft, he eyed the angry, red tip. He hefted the thick weight and it pulsed against his hand. After licking his lips, he circled the head with his tongue and captured a hint of the salty-sweet flavor he’d likely be getting more of by the end of things.
He lifted his stare, glancing at Lincoln through his lashes. The man was undeniably sexy.
Ezra drew the head between his lips… and sucked the shaft to the back of his throat.
And then his stomach suddenly churned…
Before he could stop himself, all that alcohol he’d imbibed came back to haunt him. He swung his head toward the bowl and wretched his guts out. Hovering above the rim, he breathed in the stench of sickness and almost wretched again, but somehow avoided a second round. When the wave of nausea passed somewhat, he went back to his haunches and saw Lincoln staring down in dread.
Apparently, Ezra hadn’t quite made it in time.
Humiliation slammed into him, aided by the frozen horror on Lincoln’s face.
Ezra tore a few sheets of toilet paper away and wiped some of the mess from Lincoln’s shaft. “I’m sorry… I’m so, so, so sorry.” Nothing he could say would make what happened okay. He tossed the waste into the toilet, glanced at Lincoln’s still-terrified face, and couldn’t linger a second longer. He raced out of the bathroom, out of the club, and out onto the city streets.
The sounds outside were almost as loud as inside. His head and stomach swam as he hailed a taxi. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t a great night to find one, not on New Year’s when half the world was out partying. Snow fell heavily, making it harder to see. He stumbled toward the direction of home, slipping and sliding here and there. Somehow, he got lucky a few blocks from the club and found an unclaimed cab.
A short time later, he was alone in his apartment. After another stomach purging rush, he washed his mouth and hands before crawling out of his clothes and into his bed. Later, when he awoke to numerous terrified texts and calls from Hugo, he apologized and explained what had happened.
Hugo laughed. It only made Ezra’s head throb all the more, so he cursed his best friend on two counts.
“I told you to slow down. More than once. Now you know why.”
Ezra growled. “Fuck you.”
“Love you, too,” Hugo murmured. “Now go take some Tylenol and drink plenty of water. You’ll feel better after a little more sleep.”
“Yeah, yeah. You home safe?”
“Home? Yes. Safe?” He chuckled. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“The guy you were dancing with earlier?”
“And his equally gorgeous best friend,” Hugo whispered.
“Whore.”
“Damned right,” Hugo replied with a bark of laughter. “Go back to bed. That’s where I’m headed.”
Ezra ended the call and tossed his phone onto his bed before rolling out of it and stumbling to the kitchen. He took a few Tylenol and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before stumbling back to bed, where he would relive the humiliation a few more times before drifting off once more.
He should’ve known that a man that gorgeous wouldn’t have been for him. Fate had an interesting way of always cockblocking him. Ezra had wanted an interesting story to tell, and by god, he’d gotten one.
January 15
Ezra finished the final brushstrokes of the digital artwork he’d been commissioned to create before rising from his chair and taking a step away to view the whole piece. Stretching his aching back, he tilted his head one way and then the other, quite pleased with how it had turned out. Hopefully the client would be equally pleased. He spun and headed for the kitchen, realizing it had been hours since he’d last eaten.
After examining the many leftover take-out containers to find nothing edible (unless he required some penicillin), he realized he needed to carry his lazy ass to the bodega around the corner for a loaf of bread, turkey, and a can or two of soup. He closed the fridge and noticed the graying sky outside his apartment window. Walking closer, he spotted a few flakes whispering toward the ground.
The weatherman had called for a chance, and it damned well looked like it was going to happen. He smiled, appreciating the beauty of the falling snow.