Rough Attraction by Talon P. S. Read Free Book Online

release was brought on by all the ladies’ vulgarly innocent attempts to touch him. Whether it was for his looks or his market value didn’t matter. What amused Darko was, with each one, Maxum seemed to sweat them more. The man was purely 100% gay-angus-beef.
    “So this PDA— is there a limit?” Darko teased, more so to adjust the man’s thoughts back to a perspective comfort zone.
    Maxum’s fingers leafed one of the wine lists on the bar and slid it over to browse the selection for tasting. The arm around Darko drew tighter, pulling him in for full body contact before turning to face him with a part content, part smoldering expression, “Usually, if the term ‘ get a room ’ has to be mentioned, I think they expect us to cordially make our exit.” And to prove a point, Maxum leaned in and kissed him. Nothing too arousing, but it wasn’t a zip-in zip-out peck on the cheek either. His soft lips lingered on his own, delivering a subliminal message as if to tell every fiber of his body— finally, I found you .
    Damn . But if he could learn to love this guy.
    The evening event went on. Live music to entertain. Non-stop sampling of foods—some so fancy and exotic Darko couldn’t bring himself to taste. He made several tight-lipped expressions to prevent them from being shoveled into his mouth anyways, which his rich lover was taking some delight in doing, like a new game he’d never been allowed to play before. Food, of course, was followed up with more wine. Working their way from the light & fruity to the more dark & robust. The banquet hall in itself held a rich flavor; dark umber walls tricked out with burnished gold and navy dinner tables and a few high bar tables peppered the floor. All of which corralled around a center banquet of all-you-could-eat hors d’oeuvres and amuse bouche. Maxum was in his element, enjoying the event as much as Darko would enjoy being at a rowing race right now. He had to admit the trade off was still in good running with him. Nevertheless, he was starting to eyeball the balconies that overlooked the ballroom, noting that none were in use— and it was far easier than getting a room, with a dash of naughty to boot. Maxum had abandoned his post for a restroom break and no doubt, the ladies would be moving in like vultures to pine for a moment of his time with no one at his side. So, Darko retreated to the main bar ordering up a dark ale to remedy his palate of all the overly fancy stuff for a bold malt flavor more to his liking while he waited for the equally likable man to return.
    A gingered-haired man, dressed in a nice tan suit came up beside him, landing his elbows on the bar heavily, his eyes landing on Darko’s body with like measure. Darko only smirked, his gaydar meter pinging hard into the red. One was always bound to approach. He saw the tells written all over the man’s face; married, straight, sex life unfulfilling, and still at a loss of how to fill it. This type so often moved in on who they hoped was experienced enough to lead them to the fulfillment of their closeted needs. Darko chuckled to himself, a perfect prey to be turned into submissive material . He brought a finger up to his mouth cloaking the the silent laugh as he licked over his lips. Why, he could even hook him up if the mood to be so nice struck him . Which he didn’t—not here—and not on his date. Though Darko had offered no invitation, the man had clearly loaded up on his liquid courage and thus began the small talk anyways. Darko knew he wasn’t on his own turf, had he been at the Tavern, Club Pain or hell , even the occasional visit to the Leather Strap, he would have been clear about what the definition of piss-off meant. Instead, he stopped himself, just in case Mister Ginger was a client or close friend of Maxum’s. Still, friend or not, Darko gave no encouragement toward further conversation. Eyes straight ahead, nursing his stout. None of that seemed to deter the other male any. That