Chapter One
Devilishly Devious
“That Ricky is a hell of an instructor.” Cole grinned and glanced at Gabe as the two sat at one of the tables before the stage. It was early in the day and only a few customers were scattered through the club, most of which were just there for a drink and mild entertainment.
“He’s certainly got an ass that won’t quit.” Gabe observed with a slight nod of his head and quirk of his eyebrows. Cole looked at him and Gabe grinned, “Ah, but not nearly as sexy as your ass.”
“Mm-hmm.” Skepticism narrowed his eyes, a smirk on his lips, as he turned his attention forward once more. At twenty-two and with just a hint of Puerto Rican in his blood, having come to them from a dance club in Southern California, Ricky was a lovely image of naturally tanned fit body, short, nicely trimmed black hair and eyes of midnight blue. He took hold of Angel’s waist and turned him around in one smooth motion so the boy’s back was against his chest, ass against crotch, then began to move the younger man’s body in time with his own. His mouth was close to his ear, whispering instructions. Angel gave an occasional nod and followed through with whatever it was Ricky told him to do.
Gabe adjusted his crotch and shifted in his seat, then cleared his throat but said nothing as he continued to watch the lesson. Chuckling low as he shot Gabe a quick glance, Cole shook his head. “Jeans gettin’ tight, babe?”
“A tad.” Gabe admitted, lips twisting, eyes never leaving the stage.
Sitting straighter in his own chair, feeling some pressure in his pants as well, Cole looked around the club. “Where the hell is he?” he murmured. “This was supposed to be for his benefit?”
“He probably got wind of it, and chose to stay away.” Gabe said. “He isn’t going to come here and willingly watch another of the boys rub all over Angel.”
“I know that.” Cole muttered. “That’s the whole idea. He’s supposed to see it and not like it.”
“You are a devious one.” Gabe mused. “But seriously, do you think he’s going to jump right in and offer to take over?”
“That isn’t the point.” Cole said. “I just want to get his goat.” He smiled wryly.
“Shit.” Gabe chuckled.
Twisting in his seat, Cole leaned his elbows on the table. “For the past two weeks, since Angel showed up, Dane has been fighting like hell to deny that he likes the kid…in that hot, sweaty, let’s get jiggy kind of way.” He wriggled his eyebrows and Gabe laughed. “So as his friend, it’s my duty to help him face up to his fluffy feelings.”
“So you’re the self-appointed enlightener, huh?”
“Yup.” Cole grinned and turned back towards the stage. “Mm. Damn.” A pleased smile stretched his lips as Ricky had his hands on Angel’s hips, their bodies plastered together and moving in a single sexual rhythmic motion. Angel grabbed the pole, swaying against the metal bar as Ricky remained close up against him, hips rocking, beautiful ass flexing as he released Angel and reached around him, gripping the pole above his hands.
“Fuck.” Gabe groaned and adjusted his package yet again.
Cole smiled; this was good for later. Gabe would be hot as hell and begging to be fucked.
“They’re supposed to be dancing on stage–not fucking.”
Both Cole and Gabe jumped, startled by Dane’s sudden appearance behind them. “Shit, man.” Gabe gasped. “Make some fucking noise next time.”
Dane ignored him, eyes narrowed, hard, zeroed in on the stage.
The two guys exchanged an amused look. Cole tilted his head over the back of the chair and raised his eyes to Dane’s face. “Ricky’s one hot little dancer, ain’t he?” He snapped a quick look at Gabe then back to Dane. “Who better to teach Angel the ropes?”
“Looks like they’re rehearsing for a fucking porno.” Dane muttered, chest heaving a little as his breath began to rush through his nostrils.
Cole smiled wryly, “Well, isn’t that the idea? To simulate sex, get the customers all worked up so they’ll shell out more cash?” Dane merely grunted but Cole caught the way his dark eyes followed Angel’s every move–and the longing that crept into those sable depths.
Just admit it, baby–you got it bad for the boy.
***
Try as he might, he couldn’t convince his heart to calm, or his pulse to even out. He couldn’t account for the sudden frustration and irritability that caused his hairline to prickle and sizzle and hands to curl into fists as he watched the scene on stage. With every shift of Ricky’s hands, rock of his hips, and sway of his body against Angel’s–Dane had to resist, with every ounce of will inside him, the urge to lunge up there and rip Ricky off the boy. And take his place. He resisted the thought. No, not take his place. So why was he getting so riled up watching it all? This was nothing new, all the boys danced this way.