Page 9 of Key Change

He could play coy, but he’d never been good at that. A little flirting didn’t have to mean anything. It could just be an evening of entertainment since neither of them wanted to be there. “Yes.”

Anthony sighed. “I thought I was reading you wrong.” His brow furrowed. “Why?”

Cillian shrugged. “Why not?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Do you need one? When was the last time you were kissed… or is that a ‘what happens inside stays inside’ question?” Cillian watched him, not sure how far he wanted to take this while at the same time wanting to see how far he could push.

Being outside with Anthony would irk Hayden, but that wasn’t the reason Anthony sparked his interest, especially now they were talking. He wasn’t like the other people at the party.

“There was no one inside, and there’s no one outside, either.” Anthony turned to face him. “So I’m very rusty.”

“I can help you clean the rust off.” The spark of lust grew under the warmth of Anthony’s gaze. “Was it hard to go without?”

“At first. But after ignoring the need, it went away. Mostly.” His knee pressed against Cillian’s leg. Would he move closer and slide his thigh between Cillian’s? “Is this some kind of bet or game with your friends?”

So Anthony hadn’t forgotten how to play the game, or what went on at these kinds of parties.

“No. Though I did promise to find out what you’d done.” Cillian tilted his chin to look up at him. The light reflecting off the pool made Anthony’s eyes bluer. It would be easy to fall and drown. He needed to stay in the shallows and keep in control.

“You achieved that a while ago and could’ve ditched me.” His fingers brushed over the sleeve of Cillian’s suit. His touch was light, tentative.

“That would’ve been rude, and I was having fun.” He leaned in and tilted his head, inviting the kiss. If Cillian had gone without sex for ten years, he’d have jumped on the first semi-good-looking guy who showed an interest. He’d have been on an app and arranging something the moment he got ahold of a phone.

Wouldn’t he?

Anthony hesitated, and Cillian was about to look away. He’d taken the chance and been silently rejected. That did not happen often. He was the one who did the rejecting. Then Anthony’s thumb swept under Cillian’s jaw, and he leaned down. Their lips brushed in something too soft to be called a kiss.

Yet it was enough that Cillian wanted more.

A little fling might be what they both need. Anthony didn’t draw back. There were only millimeters between their lips. Less between their bodies. Somehow, they’d ended up pressed together, leaving no doubt what Cillian wanted. The heat in his blood thought this was going way further tonight, and his dick pressed against Anthony’s thigh. If they were somewhere else, he’d have rolled his hips and started undoing Anthony’s buttons.

“I’m glad you didn’t. And I’m glad I came tonight.” Anthony kissed him again, this time without the caution or hesitation. His tongue flicked against Cillian’s lower lip. “God, I’m rusty,” he murmured.

“Not that rusty.” Cillian parted his lips and led the dance to deepen the kiss.

Anthony’s hand settled on his hip, but didn’t pull him closer. Cillian used the pool fence for leverage and ground against him, wanting to feel more of him. Anthony might be rusty, but his body knew what it wanted from the hard length trying to break free of his pants. Anthony sucked in a breath at the contact, but his next kiss was hungrier. There was a need that had been missing the first and second taste. He hadn’t forgotten how to kiss, and Cillian doubted he’d forgotten what came next.

His teeth raked Cillian’s lip before kissing it better.

Cillian ran his hand up Anthony’s arm; there was solid muscle beneath the suit. Another reminder he didn’t sit at a desk all day and only exercised when he did his half hour at the gym.

This wasn’t the kind of man he usually dated—he didn’t want to date another performer, and he didn’t need a sugar daddy, nor did he want someone who thought their money meant they took priority—but until meeting Anthony, he couldn’t have said what he was looking for only what he didn’t want, which wasn’t helpful. However, someone who was working on their own life, and not worrying about what others might think, held an appeal.

Of course, he’d known Anthony for less than an hour and might have read him wrong, or maybe they both hoped for the same thing when it came to taking their pants off. Not that he was about to ask about positional preferences tonight.

Anthony’s breath ghosted over Cillian’s lips, and he held him as though he wasn’t ready to pull away. Neither was he. But the party was still going, and they needed to go back in soon. And he needed to play, which meant he needed to drag his mind out of Anthony’s pants.

That didn’t mean this needed to end tonight. “We should get together sometime. Finish cleaning off that rust.”

“That sounds good.” Anthony rocked back, putting a small gap between their bodies, enough that Cillian no longer felt the length of his erection, which was a loss he silently mourned.

“Two weeks and you’re already assaulting a guest.” Hayden’s voice cut through the quiet night air.

Anthony jerked back; the moment shattering into jagged shards.

Cillian smoothed his suit. “Hardly assault when I wanted to be kissed.”

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