After Benjamin Pomeroy has hot club sex with Trey, a gorgeous new employee at the Las Vegas hotel where he works, he loses his job as the Elvis impersonator when the hotel’s new CEO, Maxwell Orton, decides Elvis doesn’t fit the hotel’s image.
Originally from New Orleans, Orton is fond of Mardi Gras, thus the Masquerade Ball to introduce himself to the executive staff of the hotel.
Because he lost his job, Ben agrees to impersonate his older brother, an executive at the hotel, for money when his brother doesn’t want to cancel his plans.
It’s an idiotic idea and he knows it, but he finds himself at the Masquerade Ball anyway. He’s intent on staying two hours and getting out fast when he has yet another encounter with the sexy, mysterious Trey.
But soon Ben realizes he can’t easily escape the fact that his enigmatic lover is Orton himself.
Ben took a second to let his eyes adjust to the low lighting and flashing strobe lights before making his way to a stool at the bar. He glanced at the dance floor, quickly noting the throng of young and old, hot and not-so-hot, men gyrating to the music.
“Jack and Coke,” he told the bartender.
“I’ll get that, and I’ll have another Scotch,” someone said from next to his left elbow.
Ben blinked when he recognized Trey. The man wore tight, nearly painted-on jeans and a white shirt opened at the throat. Sweat beaded on his forehead as though he’d just come from dancing.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were following me,” Ben said with a smile.
Trey chuckled. “It must seem that way, but since I arrived first I’d say you must be following me.”
“Touché. Nothing so sinister, though. This is the best gay club in Vegas.”
Trey took a sip of the Scotch the bartender set before him. “So I’ve heard. You want to drink that and then hit the dance floor with me?”
Ben hesitated. He had a feeling if he got out there and danced with Trey it would lead to something a lot messier. In so many ways. Only that day he’d turned down a date from Trey. And yeah, this wouldn’t be a date, exactly. But they did both work at The Roman and things could get complicated. On the other hand, since he already somewhat knew Trey, there would be no need for meaningless small talk before they got down to what they both probably wanted.
Ben downed his drink and offered his hand to Trey, who took it and pulled him toward the dance floor. Ben recognized the popular dance tune blaring from the direction of the club’s DJ.
It wasn’t long before they joined the other dancers in fairly sexually explicit gyrations to the music. Trey had turned him around so that his ass was lined up with Trey’s crotch and, with his hands gripping Ben’s hips, the man humped against him. There was no mistaking the rigid cock rubbing along the crease of his ass. Ben’s own cock rose painfully hard, pressing against the zipper of his pants.
Trey looped his arms around Ben’s middle and leaned down to growl in Ben’s ear, “God, I want to fuck this ass.”
How could Ben fight that? He couldn’t. A ragged moan escaping his lips, Ben leaned back. “Bathroom. Now.”
Ben almost tripped over the bodies littering the dance floor as well as his own two feet in his haste to head across the club to the men’s room. He’d had trysts there before. In fact, he’d actually met his ex at the Pink Oasis.
Trey’s hand was on his ass, steering him through the crowd. He hoped the man had thought to bring a condom and lube since Ben hadn’t set out to come here tonight. It seemed to take forever to finally reach the door to the men’s room. Chances were pretty good there’d be other action going on inside, but as long as one empty stall remained vacant for him and Trey, that was all he cared about.
Ben pushed open the door and quickly noted they’d lucked out. The room was empty. Trey pushed him toward the first available stall.
“Somebody’s horny,” Ben joked.
“Damn straight. Get your ass in there.”