"Oh, everyone is on the dancefloor." A girl said, popping her head in through the door.
"Thank you." I said with a smile. I watched the girl walked away before stepping out of the room, in search for Carlos.
Carlos was easy to find on the dancefloor, since he was on the stage, dancing like a popstar. "Ohhh, guess someone finds their calling."
I grinned at myself as I watched him dance, it didn’t take long before our eyes met.
Carlos face lit up with a smile and I didn’t missed the flush on his cheeks as he waved at me.
"Come on to the stage." He yelled, enough that I could hear.
"No. I think I’ll pass." I declined, pressing my back against the wall.
Carlos gave me a hard look. "Don’t be a dick and get your sexy ass here."
Oh, shit! Someone just reminded me of someone I never thought I would be thinking of this night.
Giovanni had called me sexy ass earlier and now Carlos. No matter how hard I try, it fucking seemed like I would never be able to shut Giovanni’s thought off my mind.
I pushed my way through the small crowd on the living room now turned dance floor, it wasn’t that hard to get to Carlos. He let out a shaky breath the moment I got to him, he wrapped his arms around my waist, pressed his chest against mine as we swayed our bodies to the song the DJ was playing.
"Never knew you dance this good." I complimented him, smiling as I watched him swayed his hips beautifully. It was safe. to say I was dancing with a famous popstar because right now, Carlos looked like one.
"Well, I have always wanted to be a dancer.
My Dad just doesn’t like it." He groaned, pressing his chest against mine, making sure there was no distance between us.
"Sorry about that. Your Dad is a dick." I hissed, matching Carlos energy as we continue dancing.
Carlos shrugged. "Well, I don’t feel like it anymore though. He gave me another profession." He smirked, looking me straight in the eyes. "I might have been a good dancer but... I’m also a good cock rider now. I’m the best in that line of work."
"Carlos," I groaned, and we stopped dancing at once. "Fucking isn’t a profession.
Your Dad just sucks."
"It is. Being a fuck boy is a profession. The men my Dad made me fuck always told me I’m the best fuck boy they have ever had." He took a step away from me, tears rolling down his eyes. "And if you think otherwise; maybe we should fuck. Fuck me and you will understand what I’m saying."
"That..." The rest of the words got stuck in my throat when Carlos rushed out of the dance floor, crying as he ran out.
"What the fuck just happened?" I gasped, turned around to stare at him. I was beyond stunned to watch him walked out of the door.
"Did I do something wrong?" I asked no one in particular. Stunned beyond what word could describe.