On Display

by Jane Davitt

"Oh God!" Spencer flattened himself against the wall and writhed, wanton, carnal.

Where's his pole? Carlton thought sourly.

"The spirits tell me that we need to look -- "

I'm not looking anywhere but right at you, Spencer, you posturing, posing --

Carlton didn't add 'pathetic' to the list. That adjective was reserved for him, the addict staring.

Did Spencer know what he did to Carlton with these displays; licked lips, groping hands, flashes of exposed skin? Did he?

Spencer collapsed, gasping, and their eyes met. Spencer winked and blew him a kiss.

Yeah, Spencer knew.

Where were his cuffs, goddammit?

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