Chapter 21 #2
It was Foster… and a man in a Superman costume sat on a stool beside him—probably Cary. What the fuck were they doing that far from home and in the very same club? He searched his memory, sure he’d never mentioned he was going there with Anton.
It seemed too strange to be a coincidence.
A few guys were clustered near Foster and Cary, talking to them.
Cary was animated, appearing in his element.
Foster seemed less so. He stood stiffly as he searched the crowd on the dance floor.
He nodded his head here and there when one of the guys said something to him, but he looked like he didn’t want to be there.
One of the men touched Foster on the arm, laughing hysterically.
Get your motherfucking hand off him.
Jude gasped inwardly and blinked a few times.
Foster was free to fuck around all he wanted—and so was Jude.
They’d made no claims on one another and even if they had, it was over.
Logically, he knew that. Yet, the longer he watched the constant caresses to Foster’s arm, chest, and shoulder, the more he wanted to break a few fingers.
When the guy flirting with Foster leaned closer, their bodies less than an inch apart, Jude narrowed his eyes.
Evil thoughts entered his mind. Foster was dragged onto the dance floor.
His partner wouldn’t take no for an answer, it looked like.
The guy rubbed himself against Foster—who danced woodenly.
He barely looked interested in the man with him.
Good.
Jude hadn’t registered that he’d moved until he found himself back on the edge of the dance floor watching the pair of them.
Glancing down, the helmet was still in his hands, but his bottle was gone.
He slipped the helmet over his head and surveyed the scene.
Someone tapped him on the arm. He found a man dressed as the biblical god staring up at him.
God leaned closer to him and yelled towards his ear. “Wanna dance?”
He didn’t, but Jude glanced back at Foster. He took the man’s hand and led him out onto dance floor so he could get a closer look. He stopped a couple of feet away from the pair. Jude could finally see the man Foster was dancing with was dressed as a priest, of all things.
A sexy priest, at that. He had on black bootie shorts, a black sleeveless mesh top that had a priest’s collar, and a crucifix. The black knee pads were an added bonus. For deep, deep prayer, obviously. He must think he had throat game if he came prepared.
When he spun around and faced his partner, god was smiling broadly, eyes wide. He chuckled, shaking his head. God and a priest? Was it heaven or hell trying to tell him something?
Jude placed his arms on the heavenly father’s shoulders and moved his hips, swaying to the beat—all while his gaze drifted to Foster, who looked like he wanted to get the hell out of there.
Should I offer him a little salvation?
Foster must’ve felt his stare. He turned his focus on Jude. Their eyes met as well as eyes could meet on a darkened dance floor six feet from one another. Foster’s chin rose as his gaze traveled down Jude’s body and back up. His hips swayed with a little more rhythm as he held Jude’s gaze.
The priest turned around and pressed his back against Foster’s chest. He shook his ass, rubbing it against Foster’s cock with welcome. Never once did Foster’s gaze waver from Jude’s.
Does he know it’s me?
There’s no way he’d be able to guess.
The helmet’s mask section covered half of Jude’s face.
Not only that, but it extended down either side like two massive metal sideburns that shielded the sides of his cheeks and much of his jaw.
All Foster could really see were his lips, the glint of his eyes, and the tip of his nose.
Given the dim interior, that would make it difficult to see those with any real clarity.
He was a stranger who’d caught Foster’s attention.
And maybe he’d stay that way for a little while.
Jude led god closer to Foster and the priest. Foster’s gaze never left him.
His hips moved faster, his hands sliding to his partner’s shoulders.
The priest was dry humping Foster by the end of the song, oblivious to Jude’s presence.
Another song started, and Jude leaned closer to his partner’s ear, dropping his arms.
“Thanks for the dance. Have fun tonight.”
God looked a bit disappointed, but he shrugged and moved on.
Foster’s partner spun to face him.
Jude moved behind the priest, eyeing Foster over the guy’s shoulder.
“Fuck yeah!” the priest yelled, spinning to find Jude standing behind him.
He danced closer and wrapped his arms around Jude’s neck for a few seconds before turning to Foster to do the same.
The three of them danced, with the priest in the middle.
He occasionally turned to face each of them as the song progressed.
He probably had visions of a threesome playing in his head.
That wasn’t happening.
Jude ignored the ass rubbing against his cock and the hands clutching at him. He only had eyes for Foster. When the priest decided to do a spin, leaving an open space between them, Foster snagged his wrist and yanked Jude close.
Foster’s hands clasped his waist, resting on his hips.
He rubbed his body against Jude’s, hands sliding down to capture both asscheeks.
Jude pressed his pelvis forward, rubbing his hardening cock against Foster’s upper thigh.
There was no cup in the way this time, either.
He could feel the pulsing throb of Foster’s shaft against his abdomen.
The priest attempted to push in between them again, glaring at Jude.
Foster stopped him with a hand to the shoulder. With a shake of the head, Foster made it clear he was no longer welcome. The priest scowled and spun, storming off the dance floor.
Jude felt a little bad for him.
Just a little.
The guy shouldn’t have been touching what wasn’t his.
He and Foster continued their dance, finally free to be alone.
Foster’s hands tightened on his ass, tugging him even closer as they rubbed against one another in time to the beat.
Jude opened his mouth, his breath coming faster.
Lust warmed his face. Foster leaned closer, like he was going to kiss him, but stopped inches away.
Need tore through Jude. He wanted that kiss.
No, he wanted to be home alone with Foster. He wanted it quiet, so the only sounds were their bodies connecting, their moans, and the rapid beating of his heart. He wanted a warm, soft bed, away from all the gyrating bodies filling the club. But that couldn’t be.
They were over.
But in that moment, he was a stranger. There was no past.
Just the here and now.
Slipping a hand into Foster’s, he led them off the dance floor.
Costumes and masks weren’t his thing, but for one night, he’d use whatever he needed to have Foster inside him one last time.