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I watch his back, but the man doesn’t head for the front door to leave. He arrows toward the restroom on the far side of the vast room.
I wait less than a minute before standing and walking in that direction.
I shove open the door to the bathroom, expecting to find one of the stalls closed with Boomer on the other side, but the man is breathing heavily, his hands grasping the edges of the porcelain sink.
He turns his head to the side to look at me, and he seems relieved at the sight of me. It does more to me than watching the performance on the stage had the power to do.
“We need to talk,” he snaps but instead of walking toward me, he heads into one of the overly large stalls.
The second I step in front of it, I’m pulled inside.
Warm lips and nipping teeth greet me, and a moan I’ll probably be ashamed of later escapes my lips. He swallows the sound down, his hands bruising with force on my back as he pulls me to his chest.
He’s still hard, the walk to the bathroom having little to no effect on him. My heightened state of arousal matches his.
I wonder how far he’ll let me take this, but before I can reach for him, his palm runs down the front of my pants.
Never in my wildest fantasies did I think this would ever happen. Touching me unprovoked? I’ve wanted it more times than I could ever count, but never expected it to happen. Not even after the kiss I can’t forget about.
“Alex,” I whisper against his lips when his fingers grip me over the fabric of my slacks.
I don’t know if I’m pressing my luck, but I reach between us and unzip my pants, nearly buckling under the pleasure when he sweeps his hand down me with only my underwear separating skin from skin.
“Jesus,” I grunt.
“Touch me,” he pleads against my lips, his tongue tracing the lower curve before he pushes it back into my mouth.
The things I’ve dreamed of doing to this man drive me insane as I reach for the zipper of his jeans. I direct all of my focus on him because if I take even a second of concentrating on my own pleasure, I’ll fucking blow before I can even stop myself.
He gasps, a whimpering, desperate and needy noise, the second I slide my hand behind the fabric of his boxer briefs.
He’s warm and thick, a perfect handful as I slide my hand down his length to cradle his heavy sac.
“Drake,” he whimpers, his hips thrusting forward to urge me to give him more.
I want this to last a lifetime. I want to savor every single second because I know, after this, he’ll avoid me for the next year or so, going by how much distance he put between us after just one kiss.
His breath is hot on my skin, his rapture audible in the pattern of his breathing and the noises filling the air around us.
I resist the urge to drop to my knees, both not wanting to push him too far and not wanting the hand still gripping me over my boxers to be pulled away.
It doesn’t take long before concentrating on our lips is just too much effort for him, and I sort of love that he can’t manage two things at once as he presses his forehead to mine, his eyes downcast to watch our hands work.
It hits me that I’m not even going to need his hand directly on my skin a second too late to stop it. My cock jerks in his palm, my cum jetting in my boxers, the wetness spreading almost immediately.
I register the gasp escaping his throat, then his own cock kicks in my hand, jizz jetting from the tip with so much force I’m both jealous and amazed with what I’ve been capable of making him do.
His cum coats my hand, and I use it to tighten my grip, my strokes growing easier with the lubrication.
I expect him to shove me away when he pulls his head back, but his gaze is unfocused, a lazy smile on his lips.
Lifting my hand, I press my wet fingertips to his lips, nearly falling over in shock when he opens his mouth.
My own jaw practically unhinges when he wraps his lips around my semen-coated fingers, his tongue twisting around the digits as he licks them clean.
“God. Damn,” I grumble, pulling my fingers clear and leaning forward to press my lips to his once again.
This kiss is no less powerful than the first one, no less needy after our orgasms, than the one before it.
I pull back, seconds away from offering to call a cab so we can go back to the hotel and pick up where we left off, but the bathroom door opens, soft sensual music following whoever just joined us inside until it cuts off again when the door closes.
