Page 18 of The Mourning Throne
“Are your facial muscles alright? I’ve never seen you laughing this much. Is your Botox fading?”
“You’re verycute, Lex.”
Morgan turned his body slightly, hips brushing Lex’s knee. Close, but not crowding. “My opinion of this place is that it’s… extravagant, to put it lightly. But we’re not here for me.”
“Aw, are we here forme?”
Morgan plucked the glass from Lex’s hand and set it aside. Then, smooth as hell, he spun the stool around, stepped behind Lex, and slid an arm low around his waist. His hand dipped just under the hem of Lex’s shirt, skin-to-skin now, the contact barely there butblisteringall the same.
“I said I’d teach you how to pick someone out,” he whispered in that soft, lilting voice. His fingers moved up slowly, trailing heat across Lex’s ribs. “Lessons start now.”
Melting wasn’t an option. Not here. Not in front of all these strangers. But every nerve ending in Lex’s body rioted.
Morgan’s lips brushed the shell of his ear. “Look, but don’t stare. There’s a difference.”
Lex swallowed past the tightness in his throat, eyes skimming over the crowd.
Morgan’s hand trailed up his chest—featherlight, cruelly soft—until concentrating was, really, just fucking impossible.
“What about—” Lex started, and Morgan cut him off.
“Not discreet enough. Do you see their confidence? It means they have someone that cares about them. They’ll be missed.”
“H—how can you tell that?”
Lex wanted to slaphimself. His voice broke, quivering and shaking, but Morgan was toying with his nipples and he was more worried aboutcollapsingand making a scene.
“Experience, my sweet.”
Fuck.
“So—” Lex sucked in air, too much, and suddenly the walls moved. The pressure of the club crashed in on all sides, tilted the room sideways. “Shy?”
“Even shy birds have wings.”
Morgan’s teeth caught the edge of Lex’s ear and bit. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to shut down every other sense. Lex couldn’t smother the groan.
“You’re thinking too much again. You’ll know when you see them. Follow your instincts.”
“I’m having a hard time followinganythingright now, Morgan,” Lex hissed, and finally he caught Morgan’s hands, dug his fingers in like a drowning man.
Fucking in public was one thing. But not here. Not with the heat and the noise and some stranger’s elbow brushing his shoulder every ten seconds. Not when half the club was made of phones, all too willing to watch.
That was a fast track to jail for indecent exposure. Or worse.
“I know.” Morgan pressed a kiss into the side of Lex’s neck. “That’s the point. Try again.”
Lex had vaulted over irritated and landed in the danger zone—frustrated, overheated, and so fucking horny he could barely think. There was no way he was going to figure out whatever Morgan was talking about.
But instead of doing what he wanted—grabbing Morgan by the collar, dragging him to the darkest corner and begging for a hand, a mouth,something—he forced himself to breathe. To focus.
Not confident. But not shy.
What does that even leave?
The brunette at the far table was out—too surrounded, too loud. Everyone around her was laughing, touching her. She wouldn’t go quietly.
The pierced and tattooed guy nearby? Also out. Phone in hand—streaming, or whatever the hell he was doing. No. Hewantedto be seen. And Lex didn’t want to chance the encounter being saved online for all of eternity.
