Micah grinned. “I’ll remember.” He didn’t really need to go after the woman, but what if she needed help?
He pushed through the swinging kitchen door and found a couple of caterers laughing and gossiping quietly in a corner. Bet they had something to talk about. And there, back to him by the sink, was the woman.
As he looked at her now, Micah realized there was no way she could be a caterer, unless she owned the company. The red dress was silk and those four-inch stilettos would have paid his mortgage for a month. She wasn’t real tall. Even with the shoes, he guessed she’d be a little shorter than his six feet. Very slim with just a slight rounding at her hips, strong, lean legs, and willowy arms in the long sleeves. A mane of golden hair fell over her shoulders. The color looked real but well tended, like it cost a bundle to keep that silken shine.
Why the hell was he staring at her? Unlike his erstwhile boyfriend, he had no interest in women in any sexual or romantic sense. Never had. But what was she doing here?
She filled a glass from a spigot of filtered water.
Her head went back, so he assumed she was drinking. Suddenly she turned toward him, and he was staring into brilliant blue eyes. “Did you want some water too?”
Her voice was soft and low. A lilt suggested moonlight and magnolias.
“Uh, sure. Yes. I’d like some.”
She reached into a cabinet like she owned the place, pulled out a glass, and filled it from the spigot. Micah watched the play of muscles across the low back of her dress. Then she turned with the water glass extended. Man, what a beauty. Delicate, sculptured features—wide eyes, soft lips, a pointed chin—all surrounded by the velvet blanket of smooth gold hair.
Micah stared and… stared. Beautiful face. Beautiful Adam’s apple.
“You’re a guy.”
She… uh… he smiled. “Of course. Why else would I be here, sugah?” The “why” sounded like “wha” and the “I” like “ah.”
Micah grinned. “Excellent question. You’re quite convincing as a woman. And very beautiful.” Jesus, his body didn’t care what the guy was. Total turn-on. Who knew he’d get excited over a cross-dresser?
“Thank you, kind sir. So are you.”
Micah stuck out his hand. “I’m Micah.”
He took it. His skin was so soft Micah could barely feel it except for the warmth that flowed straight to his balls. He smiled. “I’m called Queen.”
“But you’re not a queen, are you? I mean, a drag queen?”
He smiled. Hell, it was practically demure. “No. Just a man who likes to wear women’s clothes sometimes.”
Micah was out of his depth here, but he felt willing to drown. “Like a transvestite?”
Queen sipped his water. “I prefer to avoid labels. I only get the chance to dress up occasionally. I’m perfectly happy in men’s clothes as well.”
Micah smiled. “It’s confusing.”
Queen looked up through his lashes, which were darker than his hair. “How so?”
“I’m not usually attracted to women.”
“Ah, but I’m not a woman.” He took Micah’s hand that wasn’t holding the glass and pulled it to his crotch. Not demure at all. And oh baby. A big hard lump pressed through the silk against Micah’s palm. Whatever that thing was that drag queens wore under their clothes to disguise their cock, Queen wasn’t wearing it. Micah squeezed gently, and Queen’s eyes closed.
“God, I have to stop thinking of you as a woman.” He squeezed again, and a soft moan slipped out of Queen’s lips. “This doesn’t feel at all feminine.”
Queen leaned forward and raised his lips to Micah’s ear. “Why don’t we go somewhere, uh, more public?” His eyes glanced over Micah’s shoulder.
He’d forgotten about the caterers. Surely they were preapproved by Yancy. Still. He took Queen’s hand and walked out the kitchen door.
In the living room and out by the pool, the party had gotten into full swing. A guy leaned over a footstool, and two other men took turns hammering his ass while he wailed and other guys stood around stroking their erections. Just as Yancy promised, the condoms were flying. Micah had never seen a porn movie this out of control.
But God, it was sexy! Palms-sweating and cock-aching sexy.
He tightened his grip on Queen and pulled him to the hallway. The hall made a turn, and Micah bumped into a guy leaning against the wall while another guy deep-throated his cock. Transfixed, he stared at the cock disappearing into that wet mouth and then reappearing all shiny and dripping. Both men moaned and mewled as they worked. Micah’s balls tightened and black dots floated in front of his eyes. It felt like he was getting the blowjob. Could a human be this turned on and survive?
He looked at Queen, who stared just as fixedly with a little smile on his lips. His blue eyes flicked up to Micah’s. “Do you like that?”
“Hell yes.”
“My, so do I. Want me to blow you?”
Kee-erap. In twenty-six years of being gay, he’d never gotten such a direct invitation. “Yes.”
Queen smiled like he’d just asked Micah to a garden party. He pulled on Micah’s hand, skirted past the very involved couple, and peeked into the first bedroom they came to.
“Unh, unh, unh. Oh baby.” Queen looked up and smiled. “No privacy there.”
The next bedroom door was closed and locked.
They looked into the third and found six guys on a king-size bed all sucking on each other. Micah trembled. If he stuck his hands in his pants and jerked off, nobody would even care. Except maybe Queen. Queen stepped in front of Micah and pushed him against a closed door at the end of the hall. “This place is busier than a billy goat’s ass in a pepper patch. Looks like we don’t get privacy, sugah.” Queen dropped to his knees, ripped down the zipper in Micah’s jeans, and had his throbbing penis out of its hidey-hole and into his mouth on the count of three.
“Whoa!”
“Ummmm.” Queen sucked like a pool cleaner. Oh.
