Genres: Drama, Gay, GLBT
Collections: Clandestine Desires, Society of Masters
Editor(s): Rylan Hunter
Cover Designer(s): Siol na Tine
Cover Art Credits: Photo by Marco Zilli at Dreamstime.
Production Editor(s): Erika L. Firanc
Proofreader(s): Kailin Morgan, Siol na Tine
Length: Short Story (4,500 Words)
Publication Date: 23, 2013
Serialization Date: Upcoming
Archive(d) on (To be Determined)
Tags: m/m, Short Story, Society of Masters, Whatever the Cost series
Content Labels (What they are and why we use them)
Clad in only the shorts and the boots, Avery lets himself be pulled by the human current towards the dance floor. Colored lights swing, arc and pulse in the darkness as the DJ holds court in the popular downtown gay club. Body heat and smoke of many sorts both thickens and sweetens the air. House music thumps in his head, beating under his skin, in his bones and teeth. Shaking his naturally golden blond hair, bouncing to the rhythm of the bass, he’s soon swallowed up. Men of all ages, sizes and sorts press in on all sides. Some are also bare-chested, some aren’t.
He loses track of time. The songs change. He gets thirsty, but that need is weaker than the ravenous hunger, so he easily puts it aside. The dance goes on.
Then, he sees his mark—a dark-haired, broad-shouldered guy in a blue polo shirt who looks to be at least twenty-five. The thing that really catches Avery’s attention, though, is the expensive-looking watch on the man’s wrist. And his shoes. Avery hasn’t had shoes that nice in all of his life. While being moved from bed-to-bed and family-to-family in the foster care system, he learned early on that you can tell a lot about a person by the quality of their shoes. And in this moment, nothing else matters to Avery Williams but the size of the price tag on this particular stranger’s shoes. Not his looks or personality—just the money that must have been spent on something as unimportant as accessories.
Avery snakes over to the mark, and starts dancing right in front of him, grinding against the guy’s crotch and smiling with what he hopes reads as alluring, charming enticement. Working his attractive face for all it’s worth, flaunting his lean body—trimmed down by starvation and toned by a complete lack of funds for any transportation method other than walking—and shaking his firm, shapely ass, showed off nicely in the tiny shorts, Avery lures in his prey. When the mark responds, Avery is so happy that he laughs and slips readily into the man’s arms as they wind around him. Hands skim greedily down over Avery’s body. For a few minutes, it’s just dancing, nothing more, but Avery does his best to react with evident pleasure to each groping touch, inviting more of the same. Avery’s impatience increases exponentially when he catches a glimpse of the time on the watch that had gotten him over here in the first place. It’s getting late—too late—and he needs to hurry this up.
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