Read Online The Stars That Tremble by Kate McMurray - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kate McMurray
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kept a hand on Mike at all times. It had been hot watching Mike dance with those other guys, but now Gio found he wanted to keep this treasure for himself. And if Mike moved in bed the way he moved on the dance floor….
Mike laughed suddenly.
“What?” Gio asked.
Mike leaned over and whispered, “You just made the weirdest face. You’re thinking about us together, aren’t you? I am too.” He bit Gio’s earlobe before he pulled away.
How on earth was Gio supposed to think about small talk now?
But Gio managed to talk about opera with James, a museum exhibit everyone had seen with Sandy, and he griped about that afternoon’s long meeting with Mike, and the whole time he was practically vibrating out of his skin with the need to get Mike alone somewhere and fuck him until the world ended. Because he wanted to fuck Mike like he wanted to take his next breath, a need that made his skin sing arias; he wanted to be inside this man, to watch him fall to pieces, to make him come.
He danced with Mike again, which didn’t do a goddamn thing to sate his need, but it was a joy just the same to get his hands all over the man, to press their bodies together, to move in time with the thrum of the music. Dancing with Mike felt like singing in a way nothing had since Gio had lost his voice.
W HO knew that simply giving in to one’s desire to run one’s hands through another man’s hair could bring such breathless joy? Mike did it again and again, learning the contours of Gio’s skull and the soft silkiness of Gio’s gorgeous hair. He managed to move his hips and his legs so that he was doing some semblance of dancing as he dipped his head to kiss Gio again, because there was nothing better on earth than kissing Gio. The man was a live wire tonight too, writhing against Mike, touching him constantly, practically vibrating with need. All of that for him, Mike thought. He loved every minute of it.
Fuck waiting. When yet another song ended and Mike realized that ache in his thighs was his body telling him he was thirty-seven and not twenty-seven, he escorted Gio off the dance floor again and over to where Sandy and James were having some sort of contest to see who could shove his tongue farther down the other’s throat.
“Sandy!” Mike shouted.
Sandy turned but tilted his head toward James and gestured with his free hand. It was the “can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” look.
“I’m out,” Mike said. He took Gio’s hand so Gio would know there was no way their night was over yet.
Sandy waved and went back to kissing James.
Out on the sidewalk, Mike let go of Gio’s hand and gestured toward the corner of the street. Gio followed. Mike swallowed a couple of times, hoping the ringing in his ears would go away. He said, “Emma’s spending the night at a friend’s, so I don’t have to be home at any particular time.”
Gio’s eyes widened. “That’s… I live on West Sixty-eighth.”
That was a lot closer than Mike’s place across town. “Lead the way.”
It was a nice night, warm but breezy, the night air refreshing and cool against Mike’s sweaty skin. Hell’s Kitchen was buzzing. They nearly collided with a gaggle of twinky boys coming out of one bar and then immediately turning into another. They walked past one of Mike’s favorite neighborhood bars, which was so crowded there was a line to get in. Gay and straight couples walked hand in hand up and down Ninth Avenue. So Mike took Gio’s hand. He really liked the way their palms pressed together; he liked the softness of Gio’s skin. Gio turned and smiled at him.
Mike wondered if they’d get a cab, but Gio led him across the street, so perhaps not. He didn’t mind because the weather was so nice. Once they got above Fifty-fourth Street, the crowds thinned a little, which made walking easier.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, and then Gio said, “You’ve got music in you after all.”
“Huh?”
“You
Mike laughed suddenly.
“What?” Gio asked.
Mike leaned over and whispered, “You just made the weirdest face. You’re thinking about us together, aren’t you? I am too.” He bit Gio’s earlobe before he pulled away.
How on earth was Gio supposed to think about small talk now?
But Gio managed to talk about opera with James, a museum exhibit everyone had seen with Sandy, and he griped about that afternoon’s long meeting with Mike, and the whole time he was practically vibrating out of his skin with the need to get Mike alone somewhere and fuck him until the world ended. Because he wanted to fuck Mike like he wanted to take his next breath, a need that made his skin sing arias; he wanted to be inside this man, to watch him fall to pieces, to make him come.
He danced with Mike again, which didn’t do a goddamn thing to sate his need, but it was a joy just the same to get his hands all over the man, to press their bodies together, to move in time with the thrum of the music. Dancing with Mike felt like singing in a way nothing had since Gio had lost his voice.
W HO knew that simply giving in to one’s desire to run one’s hands through another man’s hair could bring such breathless joy? Mike did it again and again, learning the contours of Gio’s skull and the soft silkiness of Gio’s gorgeous hair. He managed to move his hips and his legs so that he was doing some semblance of dancing as he dipped his head to kiss Gio again, because there was nothing better on earth than kissing Gio. The man was a live wire tonight too, writhing against Mike, touching him constantly, practically vibrating with need. All of that for him, Mike thought. He loved every minute of it.
Fuck waiting. When yet another song ended and Mike realized that ache in his thighs was his body telling him he was thirty-seven and not twenty-seven, he escorted Gio off the dance floor again and over to where Sandy and James were having some sort of contest to see who could shove his tongue farther down the other’s throat.
“Sandy!” Mike shouted.
Sandy turned but tilted his head toward James and gestured with his free hand. It was the “can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” look.
“I’m out,” Mike said. He took Gio’s hand so Gio would know there was no way their night was over yet.
Sandy waved and went back to kissing James.
Out on the sidewalk, Mike let go of Gio’s hand and gestured toward the corner of the street. Gio followed. Mike swallowed a couple of times, hoping the ringing in his ears would go away. He said, “Emma’s spending the night at a friend’s, so I don’t have to be home at any particular time.”
Gio’s eyes widened. “That’s… I live on West Sixty-eighth.”
That was a lot closer than Mike’s place across town. “Lead the way.”
It was a nice night, warm but breezy, the night air refreshing and cool against Mike’s sweaty skin. Hell’s Kitchen was buzzing. They nearly collided with a gaggle of twinky boys coming out of one bar and then immediately turning into another. They walked past one of Mike’s favorite neighborhood bars, which was so crowded there was a line to get in. Gay and straight couples walked hand in hand up and down Ninth Avenue. So Mike took Gio’s hand. He really liked the way their palms pressed together; he liked the softness of Gio’s skin. Gio turned and smiled at him.
Mike wondered if they’d get a cab, but Gio led him across the street, so perhaps not. He didn’t mind because the weather was so nice. Once they got above Fifty-fourth Street, the crowds thinned a little, which made walking easier.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, and then Gio said, “You’ve got music in you after all.”
“Huh?”
“You
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