Public Lives, Private Pleasures
“…a complexly layered tale, rich in detail, with characters who will grab your heart…”
#erotic #contemporary #MM/M #gayromance
Descended from an old, very influential Virginia family with conservative views, Adrien has no desire to carry on the family’s political tradition. Still, he’s forced to hide his gay identity to protect the budding political career of his younger twin brother, Marsh, who wants to take up where their father, Senator Douglas Langtry, left off. There’s no room for mistakes, no matter how much Adrien hates living that lie.
It’s not until Adrien meets sexy Latin choreographer, Frankie Raphael, that his apathy evaporates, and he begins to questions his choices. Beautiful, passionate Frankie offers Adrien a glimpse into a world he’d only ever dared experience through the safety of the lens of his camera. Desire for Frankie makes his personal sacrifices seem suddenly unacceptable.
Dare Adrien jeopardize his brother’s political aspirations for a chance at his own happiness or will forces beyond his control slam the door shut on a life he’s only ever dreamed of? If he chooses to come out, their public lives be forever altered by the shocking revelation of their private pleasures.
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It was as he was washing his hands that he happened to glance up in the mirror and then stilled as a pair of blazing green eyes captured his attention. He wiped his hands on a brown paper towel, tossed it, and then turned. For the moment the bathroom was empty except for Frankie and the man with the gorgeous green eyes. And the black silver-tipped cane.
“We’ve met before,” Frankie said. Yes, he was familiar, but if it hadn’t been for the cane, Frankie might not have recognized him. Long black hair that was now slightly disheveled and hanging loose about his shoulders almost hiding his face. Black mascara and liner that emphasized his eyes, pale complexion. Tonight he wasn’t wearing a conservative suit, but a pair of black jeans and black T-shirt that showcased his trim physique. The jeans outlined the thick bulge of an erection. The shirt was tight enough for Frankie to glimpse the outlined temptation of pierced nipples. God, he was even more tempting than the other night. He had to have this man. “Tad,” he said.
Tad’s eyes widened. Frankie could now see the green was ringed with gold, and he stepped toward the man. “You remembered,” Tad said.
Frankie smiled. He reached out a hand to trace a nipple through the fabric of the T-shirt. He gripped it with two fingers, twisted lightly, heard Tad suck in a breath. His pretty pupils dilated, almost obliterating the gold. “Yeah, I remembered.” He tugged, and Tad staggered forward. “God, I love your eyes. I’m surprised to see you here. I wouldn’t have thought it was your sort of hangout.”
He kneaded the nipple rhythmically, watching Tad’s expression, saw his gaze grow heavy with lust. But still he made no move.
“I-I come here now and then.”
“Do you? I don’t recall seeing you here before.” He released the tit and slid his hand suggestively down the front of the shirt to rest at Tad’s narrow hip. His fingers splayed at Tad’s waist, slid around to cup Tad’s sweet, tight ass, pulled forward until they were groin to groin.
“Oh, God,” Tad said and released another shuddering breath. Music pulsed in the background, making Frankie’s body throb.
“Do you want me?” Frankie asked. “Because I want to fuck you. Come home with me.” He led, his hand gripping Tad’s more firmly, leading into a slow grind. The cane clattered to the floor, and Frankie took Adrien’s weight easily. Feet slid across the floor, away from the cane, circling slowly, undulating to the music. Frankie felt Tad weakening, the rise in his body heat, the smell of arousal permeating the air in the bathroom, blending with his own scents. “I-I can’t.”
“Do you want to, Tad?” Frankie pressed him closer, both his hands now cupping Tad’s ass. “Do you want to do it right here? Right now?”
“W-what about your boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend? Oh, you mean Kurt?”
The one you were—”
Frankie peered closer at Tad. “Were you watching us, Tad? Is that it? Do you get off watching people?”
Frankie saw the red flush creep up Tad’s neck and flood his face. “You were watching us. Which would you prefer—the handjob or the blowjob? Or maybe both.”
Suddenly Tad jerked back. He stumbled and righted himself, drew in deep breaths, and then turned to face Frankie once again.
“You don’t know the first fucking thing about what I want.” There was so much pain attached to the words that Frankie almost winced. Pain dripping with desire.
Frankie leaned back against the sink, studying Tad. He narrowed his gaze. “Who are you, Tad? That’s not your real name, is it? What are you hiding, I wonder?” He tugged the black leather billfold out from his back pocket and pulled out a card. He replaced the wallet and then moved to Tad. First he bent down and snapped up the cane and handed it to Tad. Tad leaned heavily on the cane. Then with one hand Frankie pulled at Tad’s waistband. With his other hand he slipped the black and silver business card down the front, fitted it snugly between the moist, hot flesh of his abdomen and the rock-hard penis. Frankie took his time about fitting the card into place. He stroked a finger slowly along the veined erection, over the ridge of Tad’s glans. He smeared the liquid of preejaculate across the head before removing his hand. God, but he wanted this man so damned bad. He was a tenacious hunter, and he had the scent.
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