Midnight has come and gone.
Still no sign of it.
Guests are drifting outside in pairs now, voices fading down the street.
Within an hour the studio will be empty.
The entire room seems to narrow until it feels as though we’re the only two people here.
Soon enough, we will be.
But I can’t wait for soon.
And here he comes.
Oh God… he’s wearing it.
Green silk around his neck.
Green light for mutual desire.
Green light for pleasure.
I walk toward him slowly.
Fuck, he smells good.
Marco follows behind me.
We leave the door open just an inch or two, letting a thin ribbon of light spill in from the hallway.
Nobody comes down this way without a key.
Loosening the shirt from Marco's waist, my fingers tease lightly across his skin.
A soft inhale.
A warm forehead pressed against my cheek.
He loops his fingers through my belt, hand hovering over the buckle as though willing himself to resist.
“No need to be good,” I smile. “When the lights go out and the doors close, I won't be your client anymore. Which means... whatever you’d like it to mean.”
“Amos,” he pleads.
But the resistance is over, despite our best efforts.
Our bodies are magnetic, a wave of heat surging between us.
“You were incredible out there, Marco. You blew me away.”
My lips brush along the side of his neck.
“Surprised I got anything done at all… with you in the room looking hot as fuck.”
I laugh softly.
“Speak for yourself, Mr Adams. I've barely heard a word anyone said since yesterday.”
