Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3

it was an intensely sexual look. It made Sinn's blood burn. The intentions, or lack of it perhaps made Sinn feel uncomfortable, ill-at-ease. He wanted this man to notice him, to want Sinn. As badly as Sinn wanted him. And strangely he had never wanted a man to want him more. He tried to shake himself free of the enthrallment, for that's the only word he could attach to his current state of mind.
    He drew himself up. "I'm Sinn Midnite." He jammed his thumb into his chest. "Lead guitarist for Medusa's Thorn. We're one of the hottest rock bands in this city right now. Who the hell do you think you are treating me like a lap dog? I'm nobody's dog. Boy ."
    It should have worked. That power struggle, he felt it like an undertow, dragging at him. The balance should have shifted. Well, it had shifted all right, but not in quite the way Sinn had anticipated. The younger man's oddly powerful aura swelled stronger, instead of diminishing. Sinn felt the man sucking his energy, reeling him in like a hooked fish. Quite the experienced fisherman. Too experienced.
    The man reached out and took his time in untying the long leather thong from around Sinn's right bicep. He drew it off, tangled it around both his big sun-browned fists. Then he glanced at Sinn. A lazy, languorous look.
    "My name is Will. I'm not looking for a daddy tonight."
    Sinn's voice stuck in his throat. He watched as Will played with the thong, wrapping and tugging it tighter and tighter. Sinn's cock surged, he got so hard thinking about that thong, the man, and curiosity as to what he meant to do with the leather.
    Sinn licked his lips. "What are you looking for?" he asked. But something told him he already knew. This wasn't just any young man lounging around a bar, trolling for a good lay. This man was a skilled hunter, more so a hunter than Sinn had ever been or ever would be. And Sinn was trapped in his sights. This was a man he had to know about or he'd never forgive himself, and his memory and the what-might-have-beens would hound him just like Bobby's memory haunted him. He couldn't stand another one of those memories riding his back. "What do you want?" He waited, complacent as a dog awaiting its master's order.
    Will draped the thong around Sinn's neck. Sinn felt the unfamiliar weight of it. The thing itself was nothing, but the symbolism caught him in the chest. Every muscle tensed as LA memories clawed at the fringes of his mind. Will lightly brushed his fingers along Sinn's collarbone, the strokes soothing Sinn's tensions. Something about that touch bore deeply into Sinn. The younger man leaned closer, his lips next to Sinn's ear. His fingers on the lace tightened the leather around Sinn's neck. His voice was low and husky as he spoke into Sinn's ear.
    "Tonight, I'm looking for a bitch. Do you want to be my bitch, Sinn?" he asked mildly. He eased back and stared into Sinn's eyes. The thong dangled loosely around Sinn's neck. Sinn felt the weight of it burning into him, the heavy mantle of Will's dominance threaded through it, the arched brow, the slightly tilted head, the lusty question heavy in his eyes. The echo of the man's fingers stroked across his flesh quelled his LA memories. The combination left Sinn gasping for breath. A heat of desire burning him up inside. Commonsense, self-preservation, faded memories, all screamed at Sinn to run. But looking into those warm blue eyes, Sinn knew he wasn't going to walk away. Need and desire kept him firmly planted in place.
    The wrong move, the wrong look, the wrong utterance, and it would be over just like that. This man took no prisoners. Sinn would never see him again, never receive the same offer. In the end, intriguingly, never know what it was like to lose himself with a man worth kneeling to.
    He couldn't bear the thought. What would it hurt to submit for just one night? In many ways it offered some intriguing possibilities. He wanted to know how far this would go. The tables were turned and he wanted to find out how it would feel to be fucked by a young, virile hunk like Will. He felt his desire for control slip away, willingly offered up. Curiosity grabbed hold of him. The chance to feel something again clawed at him and wouldn't let go.
    A gift one might say. Offered to this man whom he knew nothing about except for his first name. Sinn drew himself up, staring Will eye-to-eye. Their lips almost touching. He eased back slightly, then slowly he nodded.
    "Say it," Will commanded. The music, the