A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies

by Christina Lee

He felt Emerson’s tenuous grip on his waist and his breath tickling his nape, which sent pinpricks across his spine as he continued swaying to the music. He thought he heard the faintest sound, like a restrained groan, and when Rhys spun to face Emerson, he noticed new things about him. How his sweaty bangs looked a deeper shade of auburn as they clung to his forehead, and how his blue eyes looked nearly translucent in the glow of the mirror ball spinning above them. Their gazes connected and remained locked as the tension grew thick, like a rope tethering them together. And when Rhys allowed his eyes to slide down the front of Emerson, there was no way to disguise the bulge in his jeans, most likely from all the grinding.

But Emerson could not soothe the profound ache in his chest when he looked at his battered and bruised—and beautiful—friend, nor the ache to touch Rhys in a meaningful way. Instead, he’d feed him and care for him and let him know he wasn’t alone.

Emerson was nothing if not cavalier. Wouldn’t it be something to see him lose control for the first time? Shit, that visual had only served to make his cock perk up. Nothing he could do about it now, and besides, it was only because he hadn’t rubbed one out in so long.

“You get along so well, and I…well, I see how you look at him.”

“I can stop if it’s too much.” Rhys pressed open his thighs and settled between his legs. “But I can’t fucking wait to taste you.”

Whereas now he was flayed open before him, insecurities vanished, raw emotion on his face. He’d confidently stepped inside the shower, owning his sexuality, his desires; watching him go after what he wanted was fucking stunning.

To his utter surprise, Emerson was brave enough to swipe his tongue across his slit for a taste. Holy hot damn.