look pretty good like this.
And with Justin standing next to him in black jeans and a black mesh shirt that should have looked ridiculous but When Work Is a Pleasure | Alix Bekins
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instead looked unbelievably sexy? Well, they looked pretty damned amazing together.
IT WASN’T terribly flattering how much Garrett’s friends teased him about looking decent for once or their jokes about how on earth Garrett had convinced such a gorgeous guy to join him. Justin just laughed, though, wrapping an arm around Garrett’s waist and kissing his cheek, making Garrett fumble through the introductions.
It was interesting to watch Justin’s personality shift. He was laid-back, if flirty, when it was just the two of them, but it was like Justin turned the volume all the way up when he was in a crowd. Not out of nerves, either, the way Garrett sometimes did, but rather soaking up the attention, blossoming under it into a highly seductive, sensual man.
Sexual. You couldn’t not notice him when he was like this, and by the time he’d dragged Garrett out to the dance floor, almost every guy in the place seemed to be watching him.
Not that Garrett blamed them. Justin was gorgeous, and he was a damn good dancer, moving and twisting his hips and shoulders in a sinuous way that made it impossible not to think about fucking. He touched the men dancing around him, fleeting little strokes of his fingertips, holding eye contact long enough to capture their attention, and then turned to the next guy. It was harmless flirting, Garrett knew, so he didn’t feel too jealous—Justin was definitely touching and looking at him as well—but something felt off about it. Justin was definitely having a good time, but… it was like a performance.
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Like “Alec.”
Ah. He was dancing with a porn star. And “Alec” was seducing every guy on the dance floor, suggesting sex, if not exactly offering. And sure, Garrett was a little irritated to not be the sole focus of all that attention, but… damn , Justin was hot. And Garrett wasn’t really objecting to watching.
Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face because Justin turned around, and in a very Alec-like move, pressed his hips and thighs against Garrett’s, moving them both a few steps to the right. Another solid body pressed up behind Garrett’s backside and rough hands came up to caress his chest while Justin ground his body against Garrett’s front, effectively sandwiching Garrett between Justin and some stranger. He resisted for a second, then let out a deep breath, and consciously decided to go with it.
What could it hurt, after all? It was just dance-floor grinding.
Nothing to get worked up about.
Garrett’s dick disagreed. Vehemently.
Justin chuckled into his neck. “You seriously need to get laid more often.”
Garrett nodded. He was on board with that plan. He groaned as the stranger’s hands found his nipples and began to tease them while Justin licked and sucked at his neck.
Garrett’s hands found Justin’s waist, pulling him closer and rubbing their erections together, resting more of his weight on the guy behind him. He felt a little bad about using the nameless guy, but significantly less so when the stranger molded himself to Garrett’s ass and started grinding his cock against him.
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The beat of the music was drowned out by the pulse of blood in Garrett’s veins, although a few sounds began to sink into his consciousness: snickers and whistles, scattered applause, and a few shouts to keep going. “Undress him!”
someone shouted, and that finally broke through the fog of lust clouding Garrett’s usually modest sensibilities. He squirmed—which had the opposite of the desired effect, making both men pressed against him groan—and he had to resort to pushing them away a little more forcefully than he’d intended.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, turning to the unknown
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