Page 14 of Isaiah and Jameson
“Oh good.” The song changed, the distinct strains of Smokey Robinson’sTracks of My Tearscoming through. “I love this song.”
Isaiah bobbed his head, singing along, moving with him easily. They circled the ballroom until both of them were grinning, laughing at each other when they tangled up.
“Oh, can we do this again? Please?” Isaiah asked.
“Yes. Now? Or tomorrow?” Again wasn’t concrete enough.
“Yes, please. Now. Tomorrow. This is the most fun I’ve ever had.”
Now that was a shame.
He could think of a hundred things to teach Isaiah that were even more fun…
The song changed to something throbbing and seductive, and Isaiah stayed right with him. They moved more in one place now rocking together, then apart. Rubbing.
“I’m—I should—” Isaiah moaned for him, nice and slow.
“Shhh. No shoulds. Just feel us.” He put a hand on the small of Isaiah’s back to pull them together.
His boy was hard as nails, throbbing in his thin barely there pajama pants. So lovely. Not that he was going to rush making Isaiah come this first time. He imagined Isaiah would try to run long before that.
So for now they would dance. The music changed again, the tempo rising. He moved Isaiah around the dance floor, both of them laughing together.
Jameson loved Isaiah’s laugh. So free and uncensored. And the look in those eyes made him feel ten feet tall.
Damn Harve and his second sense about things. Jameson was half in love already.
The music slowed again, and he drew Isaiah in, making sure their bodies touched, top to bottom.
“Jameson…”
“Yes, sweet? You feel so good.”
“You make me hungry. That’s a dangerous thing.”
“Why? I can help.” He did slide a hand down then, resting it on Jameson’s ass.
“You can’t help, but thank you.”
He swung Isaiah in a wide circle, cha-cha-ing him about. “Why not?”
“We have to control ourselves.” He got another of those laughs.
“Oh, not when we’re alone. That’s for us.” He breathed deep, loving that scent.
“That’s not what I was taught.”
“What were you taught?”Tell me what I’m up against.
“If you allow yourself too much, then you become an animal. Too much food, too much joy, too much need—it’s forbidden.”
“By who? And what kind of animal? A human? They’re not so bad.”
“I don’t know. Everyone just knows you can’t. Didn’t anyone warn you?”
“No, but then no one taught me anything. All I know about me I learned for myself.”
Isaiah tilted his head, one hand coming up to cup his cheek. “How terrifying for you.”
