Sean Michael - Bast 01.5 - Playing Dress Up.pdf - Bast & Trick - nemerie

OEBFF Format (IMP), Microsoft Reader (LIT), (HTML).

Edited by Ricki Marking-Camuto

Cover Art by Djinn

Proofed by Brandy Overton

part, by any means, without the written consent of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are

products of the author’s imagination, or are fictitiously used. Any resemblance to

actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

WARNING: The contents of this book are intended for mature audiences 18 years

of age and older only. Language, violence, and sexual situations may apply.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

Playing Dress-up

He’d tried on every costume in the shop.

Angels. Devils. Fairies.

Sheiks. Romans. Cowboys.

Superheroes. Presidents. Celebrities.

The gorilla costume made both him and the shopkeeper roar with laughter.

Finally, when they were just about to give up, something caught his eye, making him stop

and smile.

By the time Katya was finished transforming him, Bast didn’t recognize himself.

The temptation to just call Trick, his Chosen one, and have his sweets meet him at Melanie’s

party was strong, but he got into the cab and headed home. Bast loved surprises, but his sweets

needed a bit of time in private to adjust to them.

Bast sashayed out of the elevator, made-up and bewigged in a mass of black ringlets, acres

of purple brocade and lace surrounding him. The corset, fiendishly tight whalebone forcing him

into a waspish waist, was spectacular, worth alone what the rest of the costume had been. It had

him aware of how his body moved; the way each step moved his ass, his belly. Oh, he could

slink with the best of them, but the corset intensified it, making each breath sexy.

“Sweets? You around?”

“Yeah, just finishing up a shower.” Trick came out of the bathroom wearing jeans and

nothing else. He stopped short, mouth dropping open.

Still damp, Trick’s blond hair curled around his neck, drawing Bast’s eye automatically to

the tiny white lines in his skin: one hiding in the dip of his ripped abdomen, one by the nipple

over his heart, several at his neck—the one right at his pulse point the thickest. Oh, it wasn’t

visible unless you knew what to look for, but that one held the promise of eternity in it.

Bast grinned and did a pirouette; the skirts ballooning around him, making his waist seem

even smaller. “You like it?”

“Holy fuck! Bast? You’re…a chick.” Trick’s eyes were wide open. He licked his lips,

wetting them, drawing Bast’s gaze.

“Only on the outside, I swear it.” He winked, moving farther into the apartment, letting the

skirts of his dress hide the movement of his feet so he seemed to glide across the floor. “And I’m

a lady , thank you very much. No chick would have an outfit this expensive.”

Trick laughed; the sound throaty, thick. “God, Bast, you look fucking incredible.”

Sean Michael

PLAYING DRESS-UP

His sweets approached him slowly, almost stalking toward him, eyes caught by him in his

corset. Trick’s hands slid around Bast’s waist, fingers meeting front and back. “Shit, doesn’t that

hurt?”

“No. It’s tight, though, so I can’t forget it’s there, you know?” It wasn’t as if breathing was

important after all, now was it? He purred softly, moving beneath Trick’s fingers, loving the

heat, the hint of Trick’s pulse. “Your hands feel good, sweets.”

“Yeah?” Trick spared him a quick glance and a smile—both heated, distracted—and then

looked back down at Bast’s waist. Trick slowly drew his hands up along the corset, fingers

drawing warmth on his skin through the lace and whalebone. Trick’s thumbs stroked across his

nipples, which drew up tight and hard—begging for more.

“Yeah.” The fascination in Trick’s eyes was addictive, gratifying, sexy as fuck.

“If we’re going to hit the party on time, shouldn’t you get dressed, sweets?” He could tease;

after all, he was dressed to tease, to taunt, to make men want him.

“Party? Oh, yeah…” Trick’s eyes never left the corset, though one of his hands did, pulling

some of the ringlets over Bast’s shoulder. “I like the way this shines, but is soft, too. Really

cool.”

“Yeah, Katya did a great job.” Trick was making him hard, which was okay, given it

wouldn’t show through the dress, and making him hungry, which was less okay, given his

makeup job would never survive. But then, nothing suited his lips like Trick’s blood.

“What…what’s your costume, sweets?”

“A pirate.” Trick grinned, looking at him with heat and need in his eyes. “You know; the

kind that ravishes fair damsels. I figured I could wear my jeans and one of your flowery white

shirts.”

“Mm…are you planning on ravishing me, Chosen?” He took a step back, flirting and

teasing, smiling up at Trick with his eyes.

“It kind of seems like the thing to do,” Trick murmured.

His Chosen was already wearing those tight jeans, but nothing more, a few drops of water

still clinging to his chest. One drop slid down, passing Trick’s belly and disappearing into his

jeans, which at the moment, fit more snuggly than Bast’s corset.

“Does it?” If they weren’t careful, he’d smear his lipstick on that sweet, hard cock, but he

wasn’t sure the corset would let him bend that way and it sure as hell was keeping his breath

light and shallow.

“Oh, fuck it, Bast!” Trick’s hands circled his waist again, pulling him in close as Trick’s

mouth descended on top of his, kissing him hard, tongue pushing into him as Trick’s patience ran

out.

Bast groaned, lips parting immediately, arms rising to wrap around Trick’s neck, his thumb

tracing the set of thin scars over the pulse-point of his sweet’s throat. Trick pushed against him,

the layers of velvet and lace getting in the way of their bodies pressing together. A soft whimper

filled his mouth, Trick’s complaint about the lack of access.

“Mm…help me get undressed, sweets. We can be late to the party.” Bast nipped at Trick’s

lips, at his strong jaw. “You make me hungry.”

Trick’s head went back, giving him room to play. “I don’t know, baby-boy—you look

mighty pretty in that, maybe you should keep it on while I ravish you.”

“In all this? You can’t even reach me.” He nibbled along Trick’s throat, every few bites a

little harder, a little more serious. Trick was making small, needy noises interspersed with gasps,

the hands at his waist holding him tighter than the corset.

Sean Michael - Bast 01.5 - Playing Dress Up.pdf

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