Aqua Follies by Liv Rancourt

Author:Liv Rancourt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: m/m romance, m/m historical romance, gay romance, gay historical romance, lgbt romance
Publisher: Liv Rancourt
Published: 2017-06-15T04:00:00+00:00

***

“You’re joking.” Russell froze, trapped by what he wanted and what he thought he should do.

Skip rocked forward and back, then took three quick steps. “I promised you the cha-cha.” He repeated the patter. “Come on. Step, two, cha-cha-cha.” He moved in time with his words.

“I don’t know.”

“You can do it.” Skip took two steps to the side, did a quick cha-cha-cha, then a showy turn, ending up in front of Russell. “I can see you want to.”

Russell had never been so confused in his life. Losing Susie had hurt, and he shouldn’t be consoling himself with someone else, especially not another man. Skip was gorgeous, though, his hair tumbling into his face, his slender body flowing through the dance moves.

He’d given up his chance to protest when he brought Skip into his hotel room.

“Final offer.” Skip shimmied close enough for his woodsy aftershave to tease Russell.

If he tilted his head an inch, even less, they’d kiss. And boy howdy, Russell wanted to. Skip ran his tongue over his lower lip, and heat surged through Russell’s core. He raised his hands slowly.

Each put one hand on the other’s shoulder, the fingers of their free hands laced together. Their bellies were close enough to touch.

“When I step forward, you step back.” Skip counted them off, and they were dancing.

“Step, two, cha-cha-cha,” Russell whispered the pattern, trying to keep from stepping on Skip’s toes. He felt blocky and awkward, and the growing heat in his groin made it hard to concentrate.

“Side, and,” Skip said, leading Russell through the dance. Somehow Russell managed not to stumble or trip or otherwise embarrass himself. They kept going till a rough hiss from the record player marked the end of the song.

Skip disentangled his hand from Russell’s. “Let me start the music again.”

“No.” Russell had never been a good follower, and he didn’t want to dance. Hell, he wanted to bend Skip over the chair and take him, though he’d never been inside another person, either man or woman. Covering Skip’s long, strong fingers with his own, Russell tugged to bring him closer.

“I could read to you from the Three Queens book.” Skip trailed his fingers along the white stripes in Russell’s shirt.

The last dregs of sunset turned the air to amber. The record player hissed and clicked as the 45 continued to spin. Nothing made sense except Skip’s presence and the overwhelming urge to touch him. “One thing at a time.” He brushed the barest kiss over Skip’s mouth.

It was a small movement, the lightest contact imaginable, but Skip exhaled as if he’d been punched in the gut. Russell shifted his grip to the back of Skip’s head, threading his fingers through his slick hair and applying more sincere attention to his lips. One of them groaned. Might have been Skip, though the sound vibrating against Russell’s sternum could have come from his own heart.

They kissed, openmouthed, raw and hot and messy. After two years with Susie, where every kiss was an event, the result of careful planning and a great deal of self-persuasion, kissing Skip felt as natural as breathing.

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