Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Miguel snorted but finally realized his dick was still out, because he zipped up. “You’re such a pig. Like you haven’t eaten enough tonight.”
“You’re the one who wanted more food,” Nero said, trying to walk straight as he pressed the iron handle of the small doorway in one wing of the gate and staggered into a square lit so brightly it felt like encountering daylight. The thick walls of the apartment building must have blocked out most of the noise, but now that they entered the cobbled plaza surrounded by trees and two-storey homes, it was as if they’d fallen into a different reality. Everything was bathed in the glow of lanterns, air smelled of sugar, and couples danced between plastic tables piled with food and drink.
Nero grinned, pulling on Miguel’s arm. “Let’s dance!”
Miguel groaned and stayed put. “You go ahead, I’ll watch.”
Nero shook his head. “I won the piss contest, and I demand we dance.”
He could see the calculations going on in Miguel’s head reflected on his face when the music changed to something way less fun. But while some people left the dance area, others rose, already coupling up for a languid few minutes of tango.
“Can you follow?” Miguel asked, confusing Nero, who just cocked his head.
“What?”
Miguel raised his chin, and while he wasn’t as stable as usual, still affected by the booze they’d had, he looked proud. “You’re talking to the regional tango champion for seven to ten year olds. I’m not dancing unless you follow.”
Was it possible to get yet more drunk on a man’s words alone? It clearly was, because Nero’s knees got ever softer. “Aw, I can see you in a little tuxedo. You must have been adorable,” Nero said and offered him his hand.
There was a blur around Miguel’s face, and Nero wasn’t sure how balanced he could be in his current state, but when Miguel grabbed his hand and then placed the other on Nero’s back, pulling him close in a move so decisive the lanterns spiraled over Nero’s head like falling stars.
What. The. Hell. Was this guy?
Nero didn’t give two shits about some woman laughing nearby, because while his usual dance of choice was grinding on a guy to reggaeton, he was quickly becoming a lover of the violin. And as if Miguel guiding his steps wasn’t strange enough, the dark gaze wouldn’t leave his when Miguel placed Nero’s hand to his shoulder. The music flowed slow enough to make following his lead manageable, but not knowing the steps, he was a puppet in Miguel’s grip, and found himself making a twirl he hadn’t intended. The blurry world kept spinning around him when Miguel’s cool hands pulled him close, into a steady grip that didn’t at all reflect the amount of shots Miguel had had earlier.
Nero’s drunken mind couldn’t keep up, and as Miguel’s chest pressed to his, he barely stopped the impulse to get to his toes and claim the kiss he hadn’t yet earned. When Miguel moved forward, Nero took two steps back, and when they were so close together, it felt like the most natural movement one could make. It just worked, and with Miguel in charge, they glided over the cobbles like a torrent. Breathless, Nero stayed afloat only due to his strong arms, utterly unaware of anything beyond their embrace, as if the two of them had floated up into the sky, to join the stars.
Never before had he been held like this. His senses sizzled with every step Miguel urged him to make, and as uninvited heat gathered in his cheeks, he pressed his face to Miguel’s neck, smelling the mix of cologne and sweat that got him increasingly intoxicated. Guided by music and the man he couldn’t have, he was powerless in this dance that wasn’t meant to be performed in neon orange Nikes.
By the time the sweet notes of the violin grew louder and more intense, twisting around him like silk shawls, he didn’t overthink the way Miguel spun him out of the embrace for another breath-taking twirl. His heart was dancing mambo, but it stopped the moment Miguel brought him close again and this time placed Nero’s hand on his own nape. Before Nero could have gotten a chance to breathe, Miguel leaned forward at the music’s crescendo and… dropped him. He stiffened, ready for pain, but the muscular arm at his back caught him before his head could have smashed against stone.
The sense of danger made Nero tense, but Miguel held him steady, as if he wanted to prove that he could protect Nero. That his strength could be trusted. That he would take care of him, and that once they did fuck, he would have as much self-control as he’d now displayed.
It was so damn sexy, like a fuck without the need to shed any clothes, and the intensity of dark brown eyes undressing him while he still hung with his head down turned his blood into liquid desire.