The bass pounds through my ribs.
I force myself to look around, relieved to find that nobody is staring at us. Nobody cares. They’re all minding their own business, grinding against their partners, drunk and carefree and unafraid.
The realization settles over me like a steadying hand.
Inhaling a shaky breath, I slide my fingers beneath Troy’s chin and lift his face from my neck. He blinks up at me, confused but pliant, his grip still strong at my waist. The lights catch in his brown eyes, glinting off the silver ring in his brow. Sweat dampens the strands of black hair clinging to his forehead.
He’s breathtaking, and he’s allmine.
I close the distance between us and kiss him. The sweetness of the cocktail lingers between us, bright and fruity against the heat of his mouth. His hand tightens at my waist, and I feel the way he exhales into the kiss—surprised for half a second before he melts into it.
The music swells, and instead of pulling away, I lean in closer. My hands slide up to his shoulders. I let my body move with his, let the rhythm take over, let the heat and light and laughter wrap around us.
In a few hours, I’ll be back in Claremont Shores, slipping into the protective armor I’ve spent years perfecting. I’ll go back to being Ashton Tremblay—the responsible son, the heir to the orchard, the weight of legacy resting squarely on my shoulders.
But tonight, I don’t want to be that version of myself.
Tonight, I just want to be Ash. A guy who wants to dance with his sexy boyfriend without a care in the world. A guy who wants to have a few drinks and have fun for once in his life.
Tonight, I choose this.
I choose the steady pressure of his hand at my waist. The kaleidoscope of colored lights flashing across his tan skin. The simple, radical act of kissing him in a crowded room.
For one fleeting night, I let myself exist without apology.
And when Troy smiles at me—wide and bright and daring—I smile back just as freely.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Troy
Cryptidisswiftlyexiledfrom my bedroom, the door clicking shut just as he lets out a frustrated meow from the hallway. Part of me feels guilty, but it’s for the best. My cat doesn’t need to witness the downright sinful things I’m about to do to my boyfriend.
The faint sweetness of that fruity cocktail still lingers on Ashton’s lips when I kiss him, hungry and impatient. I spent the entire drive back from Grand Rapids with my hand on his thigh, dangerously close to his half-hard cock, squeezing lightly whenever he shifted. I told him to be patient. To sit there and behave until we made it to my apartment.
And he did. He was such a good boy.
“You were so beautiful tonight,” I murmur against his mouth, guiding him backward until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. He falls onto it with a soft bounce, and I climb over him, bracketing his hips with mine. “The way you danced. The way you let yourself go.” I brush my nose along his jaw, breathing him in. “So sexy. I’m so proud of you.”
His eyes flutter shut, a soft sound slipping from his throat as his hands roam over my back. His fingers hook beneath the hem of my sweat-damp T-shirt, nails dragging hard along my skin. The sting sends a sharp, delicious thrill up my spine.
I press him deeper into the mattress, slow and deliberate, letting the heat build between us. The white glow of moonlight filtering through the blinds casts stripes across his skin, illuminating the flush high on his cheeks.
Tonight wasn’t just about dancing. It was about him choosing to be himself. And now, as he arches into my touch, I plan to make sure he never forgets how good that felt.
I reach between our bodies and rub his crotch, feeling his thick cock bulging in his jeans. I give it a firm squeeze, relishing the way his body squirms beneath me, his back arching to press against my palm.
“Will you fuck me tonight?” I purr into his ear.
Ashton stills, looking at me with wide, green eyes. “What?”
I nod eagerly, grinding down against him, letting him feel how hard I am. “Please.”
Up until this point, I’ve been the one doing all the fucking. Ashton seems to enjoy bottoming, and I’m certainly not complaining. Being inside his tight ass is pure ecstasy. But God, I want to feel him inside me too. There’s an ache in me, a throbbing void that only intensified after seeing him be so brave tonight.
“Are you sure?” Ashton asks, eyes flickering between mine.
I hold his gaze and nod, slow and certain. “I’m sure.”
