Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3

second Will had felt the sharp prick of the wolf's fangs in that statement. Some part of him understood it. Another part of him hated the brutal necessity of it.
    "Yeah, I guess you're right." He twirled Sinn around the dance floor. "But are you this...easy...with all your dance partners?"
    For one second he felt Sinn tense. Sinn leaned closer, nipped at Will's neck. He released it quickly, but Will felt the sting of his wolf's teeth zing through him, centering in the pit of his stomach. "I don't dance this close with fuck-mates. Not like this. Not until now."
    Will's arms tightened. God, he couldn't wait to get this man home. To have him right where he wanted him, on his knees and begging.
    "You mean this close?" Will asked. He gripped Sinn's ass, gluing him closer to his body.
    "Oh, yeah," Sinn said. He sucked at Will's neck with an intensity that made Will think the man held the ravening intentions and skill of a vampire, sucking Will's blood to the surface of the skin yet not actually breaking the skin. The ache went straight to Will's groin. There was eagerness and urgency in the action. But Will was not ready to give in to the temptation just yet. No, it was much too soon.
    Will spun him around and for a few moments neither man spoke, both lost in the rhythm of the music, the ambience of the lighting, and each other's arms. Will enjoyed the feel of Sinn, not a bit of extra flesh. Hard and sinewy, a body fashioned from regular workouts in many respects. He smelled of sweat and smoke. Cigarette smoke. As far as Will knew Sinn didn't smoke cigarettes. It got him to wondering what other man had left his imprint upon Sinn. He tried not to dwell on that image too deeply.
    "What do you do for a living?" Sinn asked after a moment. There was a lull in the music as one song segued into another. Cher to Marc Antony to Whitney Houston.
    "What do you think my professions is?" Will responded.
    Sinn gazed at him for long moments before answering. "Outdoors. You're no more a man to sit behind a desk than me. Contractor? Engineer? Architect?" He pulled the hand on his ass around and examined it, even as they continued to sway to the music. He ran his hand over Will's. He sucked the middle finger into his mouth. It proved another chance to show off his expert sucking abilities to Will. Slowly he pulled the glistening finger from his mouth and again examined it.
    "Tanned, callused. But very tasty." He tilted his head and looked into Will's eyes. "Nothing soft about you. Not on the outside anyway. You climb rocks, don't you? You've got hands that have done work. They're used to doing it. And a body chiseled with hard muscle. Got any ideas on what you could do with that wet finger? Seems a shame to waste it."
    "Ah, too quick," Will said. He tightened the fingers of his other hand around the handmade leather leash. "That's a privilege you have to earn."
    Sinn quirked a slender blond brow. "Earn it? Exactly how should I go about earning your finger up my ass?"
    Will whirled him around the floor as the music segued into some classic oldies. At the head of the playlist appeared to be "Slow Dancing" by Johnny Rivers.
    "Oh, I'm sure I can think of some way for you to earn a good reaming."
    Sinn leaned up to kiss him, but Will pulled back. "Ah-ah. Did I say you could kiss me?"
    Sinn looked shocked. "You expect me to ask?"
    "I take it that's a first for you. Something tells me you've had it pretty easy for a long time. A crook of the finger and men have dropped to their knees for you real easy."
    Something darkened in Sinn's expression. The look intrigued Will. He saw something there, something that had to do with memories, something deep inside Sinn that he tried to hide. Will wanted it–whatever it was, he was going to peel back the exterior of Sinn Midnite and expose what lay beneath. He already knew some of it, but he planned to make Sinn admit all it. Will sensed whatever it was, it was the key to the anger threaded through Sinn's music.
    He saw the vulnerability, something else Sinn Midnite kept safely hidden from discovery. He whirled Sinn off the dance floor into a darkened corner, shoving him up against the wall. His balled fist–the one wrapped in leather thong snuggled against the hollow of his throat, slowly rode upward along the curve, nudged beneath the tip of his bearded jaw, leather tangling with the pale hair, forcing Sinn's head back, and back, stretched taut. Sinn wrapped his hand around Will's wrist. Will saw