Three. He turned to fall headfirst into the bluest pair of eyes he had ever seen. Watching him, observing him, studying him as if he were a puzzle to be solved or a thing of beauty worthy of such a reverent gaze. No one had ever stared at Micah that way before. But when Micah’s eyes locked with his, the man turned away in apparent embarrassment.
Two. The man was handsome. Devastatingly so. High, chiseled cheekbones were visible under porcelain skin, now pinked by a flush of unease. Deliciously plump lips sipped at the beer he held in thick, masculine hands. And slicked-back blond hair gave the man the look of a soldier or an aristocrat. Everything about him was pristine. Out of place. Micah found his interest irresistibly piqued. There were very few reasons a man like this would have wandered below ground.
One. Micah waited. Waited for the man to make his move.
If there was one thing Micah knew, it was that in Tartarus, nothing was off-limits. Especially in Sister Anna’s. Men stepped foot into the cool depths of Tartarus seeking to sate their desires, often willing to pay large sums in order to do so. Micah wasn’t a whore, but he wasn’t unaware of the large profits his lithe, small body was capable of turning. And besides, it wasn’t like the man was particularly distasteful. Micah might even be able to enjoy himself.
After several moments, Micah glanced back to find that the man’s eyes had again strayed to him, though he still had not moved to approach. This time, however, when caught, the man smiled shyly before turning back to his mostly drained glass. So be it. Micah wasn’t a stranger to making the first move.
He turned back to the bar and, with a flick of his wrist, summoned the bartender, ordering two drinks guaranteed to be both sharp and bitter. With a solid, well-practiced breath, he mustered his courage and sidled over to the table where the blond man sat alone.
Blue eyes flashed hesitantly when Micah approached.
“Can I sit?” Micah asked.
Copyright © 2020 – All rights reserved by Hellie Heat