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If Justin was a submissive, he was likely a horribly bratty one. Every one of Eli's nerves sang at that thought.

"Eli was a wall of indifference."

"I was teasing, Justin." Gone was the mask and what lay behind it was far more complicated.

He couldn't afford to be sidetracked, especially by some foolhardy dope.

More than half a dozen pretty young men lavished their attentions on him, giving him more champagne, clawing at him, caressing him, kissing him. Edward jumped when a hand traveled up his inner thigh. Edward looked up to find Maxfield smiling at him.
"Happy Birthday, Edward, and welcome home."

"Edward, this would probably be a good time for me to inform you of how dangerous it is for you to come between me and cake."

Apparently, my five-year impersonation of an angry psychopath made everyone assume that I was also a lush.

A slight flush found his cheekbones as his lips slid into a lazy grin that looked to be composed of trouble and plans to inflict it. He actually started to bother me.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee confused the hell out of me. I had refused to fill the machine because I didn't want to hear any comments from my coffee pot, the little bitch.

That book had his undivided attention, and that made me flush because that book also happened to be one of the few things in the house that proved I was more than an angry hobo who chewed his coffee and fixed clocks.

Never had Jordan concentrated so hard not to see a place as he had not to catch sight of his house.

"I shop at Bloomingdale's and Neimen Marcus." Troy's voice heightened in the way gay men's did when they had to ensure that whoever they were speaking to had no doubt about their sexuality. [...]

Never had Jordan concentrated so hard not to see a place as he had not to catch sight of his house.

"I shop at Bloomingdale's and Neimen Marcus." Troy's voice heightened in the way gay men's did when they had to ensure that whoever they were speaking to had no doubt about their sexuality. [...]

...he'd been in minds that had understood themselves [...] and therefore projected themselves as cities, swamps, mazes, factories, warehouses, beaches, libraries, supermarkets, caves -- but he could honestly say this was the first time he'd ever encountered a subconscious disco.

Pen looked right at Jonathan and hit him with the full force of his smile, that beautiful madman's grin that felt like a laser-guided bullet right into Jonathan's core.