Scum (Wrong Side of the Tracks 1)

When the stranger whose name he didn’t even know pressed against him, tongue sliding into Ros’s mouth, knee between Ros’s thighs, he let out a little whimper and clutched his hands on the wide shoulders, now wishing he didn’t have the claws so he could touch more freely.

“I’m gonna give you the ride of your life,” the green-eyed man whispered into his ear while holding on to Ros’s neck. The threat of choking should have scared Ros, but when the pressure on his balls increased, all he could think of was ‘more’.

He moaned, hot as a furnace. He had no idea where this path would lead him, but just for tonight, he’d throw caution to the wind and follow his instinct. His fingers trembled, but he still slid them down the man’s—

“What’s your name?” he uttered.

“Shane. Ready to moan that?” asked the hot guy in a heated whisper. He didn’t let Rosen think and pushed his face under his jaw, gently nipping the skin there.

Ros had felt confident in his half naked form before but was now painfully aware of how available his body was in the skimpy outfit. “The shimmer, it’s non-toxic,” he said, unsure how to proceed when his palms brushed over Shane’s nipples.

Shane stalled before moving his nose up Ros’s jaw, all the way back to his quivering lips. “I’d lick toxic shimmer for a guy like you.”

Ros chuckled nervously and dared lick Shane’s lip as he embraced the sturdy chest. He wasn’t tiny himself, but Shane’s bone structure was broader and covered with more meat. “Wait, I’ll just…” He pointed to the mask that was trapping heat against his skin. Ros stalled. “Unless you want it on?”

“Oh no, show me your face, fairy prince.”

With a grin, Shane pulled him out of the corner and closer to the window. Ros’s room was on the short side of the building and therefore didn’t get as much outside illumination or noise during big parties like the one tonight, but there should be enough of it to keep the lamps off. Ros had a distinct feeling that switching any of them on might ruin the fantasy, and for this one night he wanted to live it.

Ros hesitated but gave Shane one quick peck on the lips, shivering when he realized that Shane’s scent would have made a dead man hard. He pulled off the claws one by one, then fumbled with the elaborate mix of ties and bobby pins at the back of his head and, with his heart in his throat, he lifted the mask. He was pretty sure Shane would like what he saw, even if Ros was flushed and a bit sweaty underneath.

He had a big nose that he believed looked striking—a statuesque shape softened by large eyes and long lashes. His face was oval, but high cheekbones gave it definition. He imagined most people didn’t dedicate as much thought to their own features, but he’d practiced sculpting using his own image enough times to be very aware even of the unusually straight line of his eyebrows.

Shane exhaled, and for a few dreadful seconds he just stared at Ros in silence, but then his face brightened in a wide smile and he pushed his fingers into Ros’s long hair. “I’ll be damned. Caught myself a real pretty one.”

Ros let out a nervous laugh. Women never gave him those kinds of compliments, but even if they did, they wouldn’t have sent shivers down his spine. This man’s opinion mattered to Ros on a whole new level. He wasn’t sure how to respond, but he didn’t have to, because Shane shoved him onto the single bed covered with an embarrassingly large number of cushions. But what was Ros to do if he enjoyed leaning against them as he read?

The landing knocked the air out of him, and he remained breathless as Shane stood over him with that delicious smirk and removed his boots, which fell to the floor with a dull thud.

“And your name? It’s Rosen, right?”

“Call me Ros.” He fumbled to remove the cloak and his own boots, which wasn’t an easy feat when all he wanted to do was watch Shane. Ros would have stared at a man so handsome anyway, but him being available for kisses elevated him to the status of a demigod.

An embarrassing noise left his lips when Shane took off his denim jacket, revealing that he wore a white tank top underneath, and the thin garment showed off thick arms covered by black and white tattoos. Hammers, guns, and other kinds of weapons levitated in smoke, and while the inkwork wasn’t new, it not only accentuated Shane’s lean muscles but could also serve as a threat.

“Ros,” Shane repeated and removed the next garment to reveal his chest. With only a bit of hair peppered in the middle and on his stomach, he was lean, with pronounced muscles bulging under the skin as he opened his belt with a loud click.