Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3

playmate."
    "You've been watching me?" Sinn said in a soft, rather menacing tone.
    Will turned to survey the dance floor. "No more than anyone else. I'm particular on who I choose to...dance with."
    Sinn narrowed his gaze as he scrutinized Will. His stance altered to one of caution, and interest.
    "You're not so fresh-faced as you look, are you?"
    Will met the look head-on. "Fresh enough," he responded.
    Sinn took a step back. His expression turned guarded, but Will sensed interest. "Hmm. You seem familiar somehow, but then again, maybe not. You're not like the others I've met here."
    "Nope, I'm not." Will slowly pulled his hands free of his belt and swung away from the bar. He turned toward the dance floor, then glanced over his shoulder at Sinn.
    "Let's dance. Then we'll see how compatible we are." He sauntered toward the dance floor and didn't look back again. A small smile played around his lips. Tables turned nicely. He had Sinn Midnite right exactly where he wanted him. Focused on his ass and nowhere else. Soon... soon he'd have him on his knees and begging.
    ****
    To say Sinn was confused might be an understatement. To say he was aroused by the casual sexuality of the younger man would also be an understatement. He'd come to the club to get down for some raunchy sex after the show he and the rest of the members of his band, Medusa's Thorn, had just finished at another club. He'd learned this was the only way that came close to being satisfactory in order to dull the edge he maintained after a performance. Trolling the clubs had started to hold less and less enjoyment and more routine, and a certain ennui had set in. But somehow tonight felt different and he couldn't exactly put his finger on the reason for his heightened excitement about this stranger - not just yet.
    Medusa's Thorn had only just returned to Seattle three days ago and he was still hyped up from the tour in New Mexico. They were all jazzed, which is why they'd jammed at one of the smaller bars earlier in the evening. The New Mexico trip had been worthwhile, even though the van had broken down twice. Still, they'd been well received at the round of clubs. Nothing like the last tour of the worst roadhouses in Texas.
    He looked at the young thing he was hoping to pick up. No, that wasn't quite right, and he wasn't certain how it had happened, but instead of leading, he was now following that gorgeous ass out onto the dance floor. He was the one who usually led; how the hell did he end up in this position? For some reason, at the moment, it didn't matter. He was intrigued enough to follow. That hadn't happened often of late.
    There was something different about him. Very different. And yet, in some way vaguely familiar. He was more sophisticated than Sinn's usual sort. And yet, more down to earth. The usual guys he picked up tended to be hangers-on and groupies who followed the band. This guy was not that sort at all. In fact, he seemed really out of place in a nightclub like this, in the middle of Seattle. He belonged...outside...the rugged, cowboy sort. Yet more together than the ones Sinn had grown up with in eastern Montana.
    This guy really was bigger than life.
    Sinn's inner turmoil drifted away as he watched the younger man step onto the edge of the dance floor, stand, and wait for Sinn to join him as though he didn't have another care in the world. And in fact, he looked slightly remote. Sinn was definitely intrigued. He'd never been in quite this situation before. There was that danger element to it that he found irresistible.
    It was very late, near closing time, and the music changed to something slow and sensual. Sinn didn't do slow–he never slow danced. He never turned the volume down on his life–not once since he left eastern Montana. He kept the volume loud because it drowned out the past. He'd only notched it higher after his time in L.A. For him it was about survival.
    The young man held out his hand. Long arms, big hands, thick fingers. He held his hand low just about his ass, an invitation to Sinn. Both the hand and the ass.
    This was the moment–Sinn could either walk away or join the intriguing stranger on the dance floor. Something told Sinn he might be young, but he was definitely not inexperienced. He took a deep breath and then strode around in front of the younger man, ignoring his hand.
    "Do you know who I am?" he asked belligerently.
    The younger man just stared at him silently, waiting. It was a heavy hooded look;