A Clean Break (Gay Amish Romance Book 2) (30 page)

“Yes,” Isaac whispered, rubbing a hand over David’s back. “Give me all of it. Let go.”

Shuddering, David dropped his head to Isaac’s collarbone, the tang of Isaac’s sweat sweet on his tongue. They both groaned when David pulled out his softening cock, and David could feel Isaac hard and throbbing against his belly.

With his hands holding Isaac’s thighs wide, David bent low and swallowed Isaac’s shaft. He breathed like a horse as he sucked tight and deep. Isaac’s hands were in his hair again, his fingers digging into David’s scalp as David bobbed up and down. David’s lips stretched over Isaac’s leaking cock, and he hummed.

With a shout, Isaac came, pulling David’s hair as his hips lifted. David choked a little as he tried to swallow it all, and when he pulled off, it dripped down his chin. Isaac gasped, and another spurt landed on David’s cheek.

Isaac moaned, his chest heaving. “David.” He pulled him close, his hands gentle in David’s hair as he cradled him to his chest. “I miss you. Everything seems so fast lately. We need to slow down.”

David’s knees were weak, and if not for the table holding their weight he would have slid right to the floor. It was
wonderful
. He kissed Isaac’s flushed skin, and said a prayer that life could always be this perfect.

“What?” David shouted.

“Give me your jacket!” Clark held out a hand and motioned to a sign that read
Coat Check
.

David unzipped his coat and passed it over. Clark wasn’t even looking as he snatched it with one hand and texted with the other. A bored-looking young woman barely glanced up from her phone as she took custody of their jackets and ripped off a piece of red paper for Clark. Hands in his jean pockets, David glanced around. They were still in the entry area, and beyond thick curtains at the end of the hall he could glimpse flashing lights and movement.

He could certainly hear the music. He’d thought it was loud at the Beacon, but Volume was living up to its name
. Why did I come here?
He already wanted to go home. A hand clasped David’s shoulder, and he spun around, relaxing when he saw Dylan. “Hi.”

“Hey. David, this is Tim.” Dylan’s arm was wrapped around the narrow shoulders of a redheaded man, who nodded. They both wore tank tops and tight pants. “You got past the bouncer okay?” Dylan asked.

“Yes.” He pulled out his new passport, which he’d tucked carefully in his deep back pocket. “We got our birth certificates, and Aaron figured it would be quicker to get our passports than waiting to get our licenses.” That, and the idea of driving in the city still made him sweaty.

“So you grew up with, like, horses and buggies and all that stuff?” Tim asked.

“Uh-huh.” David braced himself for a barrage of questions.

But Tim just smiled. “Cool.”

“What’s Isaac up to tonight?” Dylan asked. “Too bad he’s too young to get in.”

“He went to the movies with his friends from school. I was going to go with them, but Isaac insisted I come here so I can tell him all about it.”

Clark appeared. “Hello, darlings.” The metal bracelets lining his forearm clattered as he extended his hand to Tim. “This must be Tim. I’ve heard much. And you’ve met David?” He turned, and his eyes narrowed. “What are you wearing?”

David glanced down at himself. “The same thing I wore to the Beacon?” He flushed, glad of the low light as he ran a hand over the front of his dark button-down shirt. “Is it not right?”

Shaking his head, Clark took David’s elbow and led him to the corner. Dylan and Tim followed. Dylan said, “He’s fine, Clark. He looks great.”

“Well of course he looks great—get a load of that face!” Clark grasped David’s chin. “I’m liking the stubble, by the way.” He made a little growling noise.

David was sure he was red all the way to the tips of his ears. Sometimes he shaved every day, but other times he let the stubble darken his face until it threatened to become a beard. Even though it would be different than Amish facial hair, the thought of having a beard at all seemed too close to what he would have worn if he’d joined the church.

“Honey, there are bar clothes, and there are club clothes.”

David blinked at Clark, taking in Clark’s pink mesh shirt that barely came to his midriff and really wasn’t a shirt at all. His pants were golden and shiny, and so tight David wasn’t sure how his blood was still circulating. His makeup was even more glittery than usual.

“It’s okay—we’ll fix you right up. I should have explained beforehand.” Clark stepped back and looked him up and down. “Are you wearing an undershirt?”

David nodded, and before he knew it, Clark’s fingers were flying over the buttons on David’s shirt. He peeled it down David’s arms and rolled it into a ball.

“We’ll put it in your coat pocket. There we go. Simple and elegant, but sexy.” He patted David’s chest. “Wifebeaters are always in style.”

“What?” He could feel the heat of Clark’s hand through his thin white undershirt. “What do you mean?” He didn’t even have a wife, let alone
beat
her.

“It’s just a nickname for those kinds of shirts,” Dylan explained. “Not PC at all, but when is Clark ever PC?”

“Oh. I…are you sure this looks okay?” David crossed his arms, shivering as the front door to the club opened with another group of men squeezing through.

“Am I sure?” Clark turned to Dylan and Tim. “Can I get some backup here?”

Tim whistled. “Seriously hot.” He tugged on Dylan. “Come on, let’s dance.”

“I’ll meet you there.” Clark rolled David’s shirt and hurried back to the coat check.

Following Dylan and Tim through the thick curtains, David could hardly believe his eyes. Everywhere he looked, there were men—most of them dressed in tight clothes that hardly covered anything, and some didn’t have shirts on at all. There was a second level, and upstairs a balcony overlooked the dance floor on all sides, men leaning against it and watching the writhing bodies below. David felt as though the music was pulsating right
through
him and burrowing into his bones with each beat.

Despite the noise and the crowd, a thrill surged at the sight of so many men together. So many
gay
men. All in one place! It felt different than it had at the Beacon. Much more…he tried to think of the right word.
Sexual
, a voice from the back of his mind offered. Desire hummed low in his belly, and he wished Isaac was there.

Arms wound around his waist from behind, and for a moment the warm touch was nice, but of course it wasn’t Isaac at all. He went rigid.

Clark gave him a squeeze before grabbing his hand. “Come on.”

Dylan and Tim had already disappeared into the mass of dancers, and David followed Clark gratefully. The lights flashed colors everywhere—pinks and greens and blues. Everyone looked otherworldly, and David could hardly believe he was still awake and not dreaming this place. He watched as Clark spun around, his arms over his head. After a few moments, Clark frowned at him and leaned in.

“You okay?” he shouted.

“I don’t really know how to dance.”

With a smile, Clark gave David’s hips a push. “Just move!”

Sure, he and Isaac had shuffled together at the Beacon, but here the men—and a few women—were dancing with wild abandon.
Hedonistic
, the preachers would say. David tried to relax, but men were bumping into him, and sweat beaded on his forehead. The air was thick, and he wondered if he could get a drink to keep him from freaking out.

Clark was suddenly pressed against him, his breath hot on David’s ear. “If you want to relax, I could find us a bump.”

“I don’t…what?” David puzzled the words over in his head.

“A bump. A little chemical enhancement.”

“You mean…drugs?” He blinked rapidly.
Drugs?

“Yes, if you want to put it like that. I prefer to think of it as party favors.” Clark grinned.

David didn’t even have to think about it. “No.” Joshua invaded his mind—climbing out the window that last night with his cocky smile. “I don’t do that.” His pulse zipped, his heartbeat jagged.

Clark raised his hands. “Okay. No pressure. You want a drink? I’m parched.”

“Vodka tonic. Please,” David added as he fished in his pocket for money.

But Clark was already sashaying away with a wave, swallowed by the crowd in seconds. David realized he had no idea where Dylan and Tim had gotten to, and he was suddenly very alone. As alone as one could be in a sweaty crowd of hundreds.

Fear prickled, and he sucked in air.
It’s okay. I’m okay. Everything’s fine. I can breathe
.

David met the unmistakably hungry gaze of a man who looked old enough to be his father, and he jerked his head away to stare at his dark sneakers. He tried to focus on the music and breathing in time with it.
In and out. In and out. Steady
.

When Clark returned, David gulped his drink gratefully. They danced on, but David felt adrift and conspicuous. He was certain everyone was staring at him. He couldn’t hear any whispers above the pounding beat, but everywhere he looked, he was sure people were talking about him and how lame and weird he was. He wanted to go home.

It felt as though the crowd was getting thicker with every heartbeat, closing in on him. Even at the biggest barn raisings, he hadn’t been with this many people in one place. And there he’d had fresh air to breathe, and he’d fit in without trying. Even once he’d known he was different, he’d been able to fake it.

Clark was oblivious, dancing with shakes of his hips that were graceful in a way David could never hope to be. Sweat dripped into David’s eyes, and his undershirt clung to him. He bumped against people constantly, but at least after a few more drinks the calming burn in his chest helped.

Dylan and Tim appeared as if by magic from the throng. “You’re a natural!” Dylan shouted, giving him a thumbs up.

Natural
. David repeated the word in his head as he gazed around. He imagined what Bishop Yoder and Deacon Stoltzfus would say. Men groped and grinded against each other with complete abandon. Volume was about the vainest place David had seen yet in the English world, and that was saying something. A huge silver ball above the dance floor sent prisms of light over the slick, heaving mass of men.

Someone rubbed up against him, and David jerked away. He pulled at his damp undershirt. He’d need a shower when he got home. Thinking of Isaac waiting in their bed, he breathed a little easier. Maybe he could make an excuse soon and leave.

“Take it off.”

He blinked at Clark. “Huh?”

“Live a little!” Clark grabbed the hem of David’s undershirt and yanked.

Without thinking, David lifted his arms. The air did feel refreshing on his bare skin. He took the undershirt from Clark, who motioned for him to hook it through one of his belt loops.

“Isn’t that better?”

He nodded. It did feel better. He was still hot, and maybe he’d had one vodka too many, because his head was so light.

Then Clark stepped right up against him, his breath puffing against David’s face. “It can feel even better than that.” His hands were on David’s chest, fingertips teasing his nipples.

What?
David stumbled back, but the dance floor was too crowded and he hit a wall of flesh. There was nowhere to go, and Clark was touching him again, his bracelets jangling.

“Let me show you how good you can feel, baby.” Clark’s makeup was smudged, his lip gloss still shining as his face swooped close. Then Clark’s lips were
touching
him, and his other hand cupped him through his jeans.

Sensations flowed through David, his head spinning as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Clark tasted like cherries, and what he was doing with his hands felt good—

No!

David wrenched his head to the side, but there was still nowhere to move. He grabbed Clark’s hands and squirmed away, shoving through the people on the dance floor, his lungs burning.

Clark caught one of his wrists, saying something David couldn’t hear. David tried to squeeze faster through the mob of moving bodies with Clark still stubbornly holding on. He spotted the sign for the bathroom and pushed the door open. There were moans coming from the stalls, and someone was on his knees right by the sinks with another man’s cock in his mouth.

David tore his hand out of Clark’s surprisingly strong grasp. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you’re gorgeous, and I want you. It’s okay.” Clark prowled toward him. “No one has to know. We can just have a little fun.”

“No!” David slapped his palm against Clark’s chest, holding him at arm’s length. The pink mesh shirt was damp. “I’m with Isaac. I don’t want anybody else.”

Clark rolled his eyes. “Come
on
. That’s really sweet and all, but time to grow up. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is to me. I thought we were friends.”

“We are, sugar. I just want to be a
better
friend. I’ll make you feel so good. Show you things you Amish boys have never even dreamed of. Come on, let me corrupt you.” He smiled wickedly. “You know you want to.”