That’s new.Mickey was no stranger to strong desires—he was in a sex club on a Thursday night—but he’d never felt so consumed within minutes of meeting someone.
Tunnel vision descended. He found Benito’s unyielding thigh with his one hand and gripped his chin with the other, reckless honesty that was equal parts his greatest strength and weakness sweeping over him. “Forget the rules. I’m gonna tell you what I want. What happens next, if anything, is up to you.”
Benito wrenched free of Mickey’s grip. A flush darkened his cheeks. “You seem so sure we won’t want the same thing.”
“I’m not sure of anything except that I want to take you upstairs and fuck your brains out.”
“What makes you think I don’t want that too?”
“Because I’m not that lucky.”
“The fuck does that mean?”
Mickey let his hand slide from Benito’s thigh, his brain belatedly catching up with the rest of him. “It means aesthetically you’re a fucking fantasy, but I need something different up here.”
Mickey tapped his temple. Benito’s dark brow ticked. “Are you calling me stupid?”
“Not even close. I’m talking about preference, not intelligence.”
“Preference? You mean sexuality?”
“No. I mean sexually. When I hook up like this—” Mickey gestured around the club. “I like to be in control. I’m not looking for a power top.”
Amusement threatened the burgeoning scowl on Benito’s handsome face. “And not a power bottom either, huh?”
“Is that what you are?”
Benito shrugged. “I’m a lot of things, just not all the time.”
“What are you today?”
“Intrigued. It sounds like you can’t decide if you want to fight or fuck.”
Mickey chuckled. “Maybe it’s both. But I can tell you one thing that never changes.”
“What’s that?”
Mickey finished his drink and slid off his stool. “I always win.”