Page 80 of Black and Brown

The confusion Grace was feeling was a vast understatement.

Mirage was a master with knives and slicing through flesh with exact precision, so Grace didn’t know how he’d botched this task so badly.

When finished, Mirage grabbed a wad of napkins and scooped up the inedible avocado slices, along with the ten or twelve cubes of cucumbers.

“Finished.” Mirage winked as if he’d performed his duty with the accuracy of an Iron Chef. “Anything else you need cut?”

Grace shook his head.

“Okay.” Mirage removed his apron. “I’ll set the table.”

At the sound of a plate—his porcelain Sonoma dinner plate—hitting the floor with a loud crash, Grace gritted his teeth, not bothering to turn around.

“Dammit, I’ll sweep that up. I’m not used to such heavy plates. I prefer paper. Dixie Ultra makes heavy-duty ones, y’know.”

Grace was shocked at the slight curve of his lips.

“Where’s the broom, Grace?” Mirage sucked his teeth. “It’s probably in a specially made white-oak broom closet located in a hidden compartment in the southeast corner of your fancy-ass kitchen.”

Grace barked a long-held laugh that felt as good to him as Mirage’s touch.

Grace

He and Mirage ate their salads in comfortable silence—Grace avoided the avocados like the plague—neither discussing the situation they’d have to face tomorrow.

He’d rather forget about that for a while and lie beneath Mirage while he sank deep inside him.

Grace was so eager that he ignored the dirty dishes and instead took Mirage’s hand and led him into the dark living room to pour them an after-dinner drink.

Mirage sat beside him on the couch, close enough for their thighs to touch, close enough that Grace was able to drape his arm around Mirage’s shoulders and pull him close.

The amber liquid looked like chocolate diamonds in the bottom of his crystal snifter.

Grace sipped the expensive liqueur, relishing the smooth warmth that eased down his throat, creating a delicious heat in his stomach that slowly spread to his groin.

After he allowed the liquor to do its job, he set his glass on the coffee table, then took Mirage’s and did the same.

Grace removed Mirage’s bulky sweatshirt, leaving his white tank top.

As if sharing one mind, he pulled Mirage against his chest, and both went for each other’s mouths.

The kiss started gentle and tender, and Mirage’s lips tasted so sweet with the combined hints of orange and vanilla from the brandy. So good it made Grace moan and plunge his tongue deeper.

The intensity grew with each pounding heartbeat, a magnetic pull tugging them closer until they were forced to let go of their hesitation.

Grace’s once-gentle hug transformed into an embrace that ignited sparks of electricity in his chest.

Before he knew it, he’d tangled his fingers in Mirage’s messy blond hair, causing their kiss to rise to a crescendo that left Grace breathless.

His cock grew so hard his silk pants were no longer comfortable.

Mirage had an obscene bulge tenting his sweats that looked thick and long.

“Fuck, Grace.” Mirage tongued and sucked on his throat while he reached inside Grace’s pants.

No sensation in the world compared to how it felt to have Mirage gripping his length. He stroked him with his rough hands, making slow, firm pulls of his foreskin.

Grace threw his head back and groaned deep and loud, and the beast that consumed most of his soul went silent.