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Mad & Marvelous

Page 27

by Elizabeth Varlet


  “Thank you, sir.”

  Happiness exploded out of him in a belly laugh. He lifted Hop, whose legs wrapped around his waist automatically, and spun around, kissing him.

  Applause rang out around them, louder than any that had ever shaken the walls of Switch before. The cheer that roared from the audience was a celebration of love in the purest form.

  When they finally stopped spinning, Hop’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes glossy. “I love you too,” he said. “Now take me home and fuck me, please.”

  It was Z’s chuckle that brought reality back into focus. “Okay, lovebirds, time to leave before you give the people a show they weren’t expecting.”

  The DJ came over the speaker congratulating Rafe and Hop and promising more entertainment later. The music rose and the Sassy Boyz led Rafe into the dressing room. Hop kissed and nibbled his neck, still glued to Rafe’s front like an octopus, and Rafe wasn’t about to let him go.

  * * *

  It still took three hours to get Hop out of there. The Sassy Boyz danced their second routine, and Hop insisted on following through with his plan to use the Sassy Boyz to land the Prince party, despite Rafe’s arguments.

  In the end, only a promise on Gigi’s part to have Prince call Rafe the next day appeased Hop.

  Finally, he had Hop in his bed. They were together again, and this time he’d never let Hop go.

  “I don’t ever want to be anywhere else, but right here, inside you.” Their kiss was a leisurely relearning of each other.

  “Sounds good to me.” Hop lifted his hips to meet Rafe’s thrust.

  “I love you, pet.”

  “I love you, sir.”

  “Tomorrow we’re getting tested. I want to make love to you with nothing between us.”

  “God, yes.”

  Rafe kissed his lips. “Now let me hear your cries.”

  As much as Rafe wanted to last, their orgasms came upon them with startling speed, and all too soon Hop was arching beneath him and shouting to the ceiling and Rafe couldn’t keep his own at bay.

  Much later, after cleanup and cuddling, Hop lay with his head on Rafe’s chest, fingers playing over Rafe’s skin absently.

  “My parents loved each other once,” he said.

  “They must have.”

  “I mean, really, really loved each other. My mother never married because she was still hung up on him.”

  “Wow.”

  “I’m the reason they split up.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “She didn’t want me growing up in that environment so she broke up with him.”

  Rafe tightened his arms around Hop and kissed his head. “I’ll have to thank her.”

  “Why?”

  “By sacrificing her love, she saved both of us.”

  Epilogue

  Three weeks later...

  “Are you certain?” Hop’s mother hugged him for the tenth time in the last hour.

  “Positive.” Hop kissed her cheek.

  “You can always come back if he turns out to be a terrible housekeeper. What about food? Who’s going to feed you?”

  “We’ll feed each other.”

  “It’s just so soon, I don’t understand the rush to move in together.”

  “It may seem rushed to you, but I feel like I’ve waited years for this.”

  Her eyes softened as she folded another shirt and placed it in his suitcase. “Call me every day.”

  “Once a week at least.” Hop laughed at her stricken expression. “Kidding, I’m not abandoning you.”

  Rafe entered his room, sweaty from loading Hop’s boxes into Fitch’s truck. “Got another one ready for us?”

  “Make sure my boy eats properly,” his mother said.

  Rafe slung an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll take good care of him, I promise. How about dinner at our place on Monday? Hop has the night off.”

  She smiled warmly up at him. “I can do Monday.”

  “Great. I’ll invite my family so we can all get to know each other. Sound good?”

  “All of them?” They still hadn’t found the time for him to meet Rafe’s mother or brothers, but they had met up with his sister for coffee last week.

  He and Lori had bonded as soon as she’d cracked her first joke. From that moment on, Hop had considered her the sister he’d always wanted. They’d gone shopping together and chatted on the phone sometimes.

  “Mom has been nagging me about meeting you.”

  “Oh. Okay.” He turned to the closet to grab the last of his clothes. Sisters were great. Moms? They were scary.

  It took all afternoon to move Hop out of the apartment even with the help of their friends. When the last box was dropped in Rafe’s bedroom, Hop fell backward on the mattress.

  “I never would have agreed to this if I’d known how exhausting it would be.”

  “You haven’t started unpacking yet, get your lazy butt up.” Rafe tickled his ribs.

  Hop wiggled away from the torture. “I’m not being lazy. I’m saving my energy for later.”

  A hungry smile stretched Rafe’s lips. “Careful, pet, I’m not so modest that I won’t take you right here, right now, without caring who’s around to hear you moan.”

  They’d gotten their results two days ago, but hadn’t been together since. Tonight would be their first night as roommates and also the first time they wouldn’t use protection.

  Rafe’s threat sparked the desire Hop had been fighting all day. He wrapped his legs around Rafe’s waist and blinked up at him.

  “Jesus, I can’t wait to fuck you.” Rafe brought their mouths together in a teasing kiss. “Later.” He smacked Hop’s ass. “Get to work.”

  Hop groaned but jumped off the bed and began unpacking.

  A week after Rafe’s big apology, he and Prince had come to an agreement. Now that Rafe’s ties to Lockwood had been severed and Prince owned forty-five percent of the club, it didn’t seem logical to host his launch party anywhere else. They’d agreed to terms and signed a contract ensuring the party of the year would take place at Switch.

  Since then, the Sassy Boyz had been in rehearsals working on their acts for the party and their opening number for the actual runway show.

  It was hard work, but they were too excited to care.

  Four days ago, with Rafe’s encouragement, Hop had finally found the balls to submit his portfolio to an art school. It would take months before he heard back, but just making the first step was something to be proud of. At least, that’s what Rafe kept telling him. Every chance he got, Rafe bragged about his boyfriend’s amazing talent. Hop had never been starved of support, but there was something about the way Rafe couldn’t hide his pride that gave Hop a new confidence.

  By sunset, they’d managed to empty all but three boxes. After a thank-you dinner of pizza and wings, Rafe and Hop said goodbye to their friends. As soon as the door closed behind Mark, Rafe pinned Hop against the wall.

  “Ready?”

  Breathless with anticipation, Hop said, “Yes, sir.”

  Rafe kissed him slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. When he finally pulled back, his lips were plump and shiny. “I want you naked and kneeling beside the bed.”

  Hop skipped down the hall, shedding his clothes in a colorful trail for Rafe to follow. When he reached their bedroom, he lowered to his knees—trembling in anticipation.

  Rafe came in seconds later. “I will never get tired of that sight.”

  The soft swoosh of fabric hitting the floor drew his attention. He couldn’t resist the chance to see Rafe’s body, especially after days of surviving on video chats, quick kisses at Switch, and late-night emails.

  “I have something for you.” His voice shook, reminding Hop of the night he’d said I love you in front of an audience.

>   Was he nervous?

  Wearing only his boxer briefs, Rafe pulled a box out of his drawer and held it out to Hop.

  “What is it?”

  Rafe’s lips quirked and he shook the box at him. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

  Time stopped at the first glimpse of the solid rose-gold choker with three small diamond studs set in the center.

  “A collar?”

  “Do you like it?”

  Hop lifted it from the case and ran a finger over the cool metal. Like it? He loved it. He blinked up at Rafe and knew his whole heart was in his eyes. “I love you.”

  Rafe sat on the bed. “See there?” He pointed to an engraving on the inside of the band. Pet.

  “It’s perfect.” Hop couldn’t help the quiver in his voice.

  “It’s subtle enough to wear every day, but still flashy because you’re you.” There was a note of humor in his tone even as he smoothed a palm lovingly over Hop’s hair. “And the clasp locks.” He released it with a special wrench. “Only I can remove it.” He held the collar up at both ends.

  Hop met Rafe’s dark eyes as the full meaning of the gift danced between them. This was Rafe’s way of telling him he was in this forever. Once they locked the collar around his neck, Hop would never have to worry about being alone again.

  Hop gathered his hair and bowed his head so Rafe could slip it on. When the clasp clicked into place, a sense of absolute peace settled over him.

  Rafe kissed him. “You’re all mine now, pet.”

  “And you’re mine, sir.”

  * * * * *

  Get to know the rest of the Sassy Boyz!

  For special excerpts, exclusive epilogues and more, sign up for Elizabeth Varlet’s newsletter at www.elizabethvarlet.com.

  Excerpt from Fierce & Fabulous by Elizabeth Varlet

  Fitch Donovan never thought a lap dance could change his life, but from the moment the gorgeous dancer’s lips touch his, his world comes screeching to a halt.

  Read on for an excerpt of

  FIERCE & FABULOUS,

  the first book in Elizabeth Varlet’s scorching

  SASSY BOYZ SERIES

  A gay bar.

  Of course it was a gay bar.

  He should have known. Because only his sister would choose to celebrate her twenty-first birthday party in a gay bar.

  Fitch sighed and scratched his jaw. Why couldn’t it have been a lesbian bar? They had those, right?

  Then again, he wouldn’t have gotten any enjoyment in one of those either. Meg had ruined the whole lesbian-fantasy thing when she’d come out at fourteen. There was no pleasure in imagining two hot chicks doing nasty, beautiful things to each other when one of them kept morphing into your sister.

  Fitch barely suppressed a shudder at the thought, but no one noticed. Not Meg or her friends, who were all too busy drinking and laughing and shouting over the thundering music to notice how uncomfortable he was.

  A straight man in a gay club in New York City. He wasn’t the first, obviously, but he felt like it. He hunched over the Coke he’d been nursing for the past half hour and tried his best to ignore the interested stares he was getting. If his buddies could see him now they’d shit their pants laughing and then volunteer to kick some ass with him just as a matter of loyalty. As if he needed to protect his delicate manly sensibilities by resorting to physical violence.

  He sighed.

  No, he’d just have to suffer in silence.

  The place was so dark it should have been impossible to catch anyone’s eye, but the rainbow laser light-beams moved in time with the strobe’s beat to create a disconcerting kaleidoscope effect that provided just enough light and just enough headache-inducing delirium for him to feel kind of trippy even though he was stone-cold sober.

  Another sip of warm Coke didn’t help. And neither did the shadows or the uncomfortable hunch.

  He couldn’t have stood out more if he’d had a blinking neon sign over his head.

  The Vibe. If he’d been smart he would have said no as soon as Meg mentioned the name of the place. Then again, he’d never been able to say no to his baby sister. She was a devil with sweet eyes and he’d been devoted to her ever since she was born. Even if all she ever did was torture him.

  “If you don’t cheer up I’m going to tell Mom,” Meg bellowed into his ear.

  He looked up just in time to see her school her smile into a frown. Her hazel eyes reflected the rainbow lights and glittered back at him with an overly glossy veneer. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips twitched just enough to make him laugh. She’d always been a terrible liar.

  “You are such a brat,” he said.

  “Shut up, you love me.” Her giggle was slightly crazed.

  “You’re drunk.”

  She smiled and nudged his shoulder with her own. “I’m twenty-one, big bro! That’s the whole point.”

  On his twenty-first he’d gone overboard with the Jack Daniel’s and ended up puking his guts out two hours into the party. The hangover had put him off the stuff for years. The way Meg was headed she’d be having a similar experience and the idea made everything else worth it.

  “Sure, just remember that when Tara is holding your hair back and you’re worshiping the porcelain god.”

  She pffted at him and turned to kiss Tara.

  Jesus, she hadn’t even warned him. She really was a brat.

  To avoid watching his baby sister make out, he turned toward the crowded dance floor. So much skin, so many grinding masculine bodies moving to the pop hit-slash-techno beat like the music put them into some kind of trance. Either the DJ was a wizard or the dancers were all caught in a lust frenzy. And the DJ was no wizard.

  He rubbed his temple and considered heading to the bar to refresh his Coke, but the last time he’d done that he’d been hit on by three guys, all of them half-naked and young. Too young. And none of them had taken his “Sorry, I’m straight” as anything but a challenge. Better to just avoid the situation and hope the waiter would come by soon.

  The music faded and the DJ’s voice came through the speakers. “And now it’s time for a treat. Put your hands together for the hottest show in New York City. Give it up, for the Sassy Boyz!”

  Beside him, Meg squealed as the rest of the club erupted into cheers and turned to face a stage he hadn’t even noticed. The intro music started and the curtains slowly rose.

  “Oh my God, they’re doing Jessie J’s ‘Do It Like A Dude’! I saw a clip of this one on YouTube, it’s awesome,” his sister exclaimed, practically bouncing in her seat.

  “Jesus, you’d think you were at a Beyoncé concert instead of a drag show.” He shook his head at her.

  Across the table her friend leaned forward. “It’s not a drag show. They’re not queens.”

  The volume of the music rose again and every light but the ones on the stage went dark.

  He’d expected big hair, big makeup, and outrageous costumes. Something artificial. Not four slim females wearing baggy jeans, loose T-shirts, high heels, and baseball caps pulled low enough to cover their eyes. He definitely hadn’t expected the bright red lipstick or the silky long hair. These were definitely not drag queens.

  As soon as the lyrics started, the dancers began their aggressive, syncopated moves. They thrust their hips, popped their chests, and flexed their biceps in stereotypical macho fashion, grabbing their crotches and adjusting their caps to match the suggestive lyrics.

  And if that weren’t statement enough, they topped it all off by shooting the middle finger to the audience while stomping their high heels.

  The dancers were so hot, especially the tallest one with long blond hair. Yeah, she was really fucking sexy. A night with her would be jerk-off fuel for years to come.

  Especially considering those fuck-me heels.

  Fitc
h’s pulse grew heavy with each hard hit of the drums, each reverberating thrum from the bass. He spread his legs and smoothed his jeans over his thighs to create more room for his growing hard-on, because watching the dance was like looking into the eyes of someone sucking your cock.

  So fucking good.

  When the bridge came, they lowered to the floor to perform a grinding, thrusting move that simulated sex so effectively it was almost like he could feel it. He gripped his knees until his knuckles whitened, and breathed through his mouth.

  Just as the first song started to fade, another beat took over. The dancers moved to the back of the stage, where four chairs now stood, and began a slow striptease.

  With every piece of clothing they removed, the crowd grew more and more wild and Fitch’s heartbeat grew more erratic. They flung their hats off and flipped their hair while rolling their hips, bringing to mind all kinds of ways he could touch and kiss and lick just so the tall blonde in the front would repeat that sexy little thrust.

  Across the table, Meg whistled and her friends cheered just as loud. It was all he could do not to join in too, because the girls onstage were now bent over and sliding the denim over their gorgeous, leather-covered asses.

  Holy fucking Christ.

  He swallowed and reached for his glass with a shaking hand, forgetting it was already empty. He had no choice but to let his mouth go dry because there was no way he was tearing his eyes away from the stage. Not while they were still up there, and especially not while they were stripping.

  Finally, they sat just as the new song began.

  Meg must have recognized the song because she cheered again even louder right before she, and everyone else at the table, sang the lyrics at the top of their lungs.

  “Booooots and Boys.”

  With the first word, the dancers extended their legs to reveal knee-high sex-kitten boots. And on the second—fuck.

  He stared, heart thudding so hard in his chest he thought it might fly out, leaving a giant gaping hole.

  The dancers stood facing the audience, and the crowd’s decibel level skyrocketed. They were nearly naked, wearing only those damn boots and tight leather shorts. But that wasn’t why he couldn’t breathe.

 

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