The blond and the brunet had returned and taken up their place on either side of Charlemagne. The blond leaned forward and whispered in his ear.
“You were at the Halloween Ball?”
“Yes. We had to leave before the unmasking—”
“You’re the Lone Ranger!”
“That was me.”
“Sweetcheeks monopolized you at the last Ball.” He ignored my growl and Wills’s frown at the use of my professional name. “I trust you’ll save a dance for me?”
“Sure. On the condition you stop calling Theo ‘Sweetcheeks.'”
“Why? Does it bother you?”
“Let’s just say I don’t like it.”
“Oh, very well, if you’re going to be tiresome.” I was surprised that Charlemagne backed down. He had a sharp tongue and liked nothing better than to cross swords with the unsuspecting. “Theo, take him away. I have better things to do than trade barbs with your boyfriend.”
“Yeah, come on, Theo, take me away. They’re playing our song.” There was deviltry in Wills’s eyes.
Charlemagne looked as if he’d bit into a lemon.
I waited until we were on the dance floor and began to groove. “‘Cum on Feel the Noize?’ Oh, babe, you are just too bad.”
“But you love me anyway, right?” There was that happy grin on his face, and I reached across the small space that separated us and stroked his cheek.
“Yes, I do.”
* * * *
The band was taking a break, and so we went looking for our table. Charlemagne must have been pleased with me. It was a good deal closer to his table than the one at the Annual Escort Ball had been.
We removed our jackets, hanging them over the backs of our chairs, and sat down to sample the caviar.
“Eat up, babe,” I told him. “I doubt the caviar in the limo will be able to match it.”
Wills just smiled and took a bite of the cracker piled with pearl gray roe and crème fra? che.
I pointed out the various dignitaries and officials who were attending this ball, and he let out a low whistle.
“And they’re not afraid they’ll be outed?”
“No. They know we won’t tell, and if word ever did get out, whoever spilt the beans would not only be banned, their life expectancy would be exceedingly short.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“You’re not?”
“Countries would be thrown into chaos, governments could topple. People get testy when things like that happen.”
“Babe, you don’t want to talk politics tonight, do you?”
“No.” He smiled into my eyes. “I’d much rather dance with you.” The band had returned.
“All right!” I took his hand, and he followed me onto the dance floor.
We danced through a fast set, snagged a couple of flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, then danced some more, a Latin set this time—cha cha, Merengue, samba, and a tango that set the floor on fire. It ended with a flourish, Wills on one knee, plastered against me, a hand resting above my heart, the other on my thigh, and his cheek pressed against my hip. I felt his breath, hot and damp, through my trousers to the silver mesh briefs I wore, and his cock, hard and just as hot against my leg. I leaned toward him and cradled his head.
“How come I always get the woman’s part?” he complained mildly.
I snickered, raised him to his feet, and stole a kiss. Another dance was starting, but I pulled him along after me.
“Hey! Where are we going?”
“I have to go to the men’s room.”
“And you need me to keep you company there?”
“Let’s just say I need you.”
There were a few men in the restroom, but it was nowhere as crowded as it would get as the evening wore on and the music and the champagne worked on libidos. The attendant, an older man, sat by the door, next to warm hand towels and mints and a basket filled with condoms. He smiled up at us, “Good evening, gentlemen,” then went back to reading a James Patterson paperback.
There were a few free stalls, and I pushed Wills into one. I undid his trousers, crouched before him, and took his erect cock in my mouth. He locked his knees, jammed the heel of his hand into his mouth, and bit down to muffle his sighs and groans. He looked down at me looking up at him.
Wills was unable to be altogether silent though. When he came, his head jerked back and hit the wall of the stall.
I grinned as I licked him clean, tucked him away, and righted his clothing. He was a little unsteady on his feet, and I held him for a minute.
“Th-thanks. I mean it. That…that was…”
“My pleasure, Wills. Are you ready?”
“I’m…I’m good, babe.”
I opened the door, and we went to the sinks.
The attendant, either having heard nothing, or pretending to have heard nothing, offered us a towel and a mint, and I tipped him before Wills could.
We returned to the ballroom and danced until we were both out of breath.
“I’ve…I’ve gotta take a…a break,” I panted.
“Sure. I could use another glass of champagne.” Damp hair feathered across his forehead and clung to the back of his neck, and his shirt hugged his torso, his nipples like dark shadows just visible through the Egyptian cotton.
He really would look good with a nipple ring. “Babe…”
“Yes, moon of my delight?”