Cole grinned and glanced at Gabe as the two sat at one of the tables before the stage. It was early in the day and only a few customers were scattered through the club, most of which were just there for a drink and mild entertainment. “He’s certainly got an ass that won’t quit.” Gabe observed with a slight nod of his head and quirk of his eyebrows. Cole looked at him and Gabe grinned, “Ah, but not nearly as sexy as your ass.” “Mm-hmm.” Skepticism narrowed his eyes, a smirk on his lips, as he turned his attention forward once more. At twenty-two and with just a hint of Puerto Rican in his blood, having come to them from a dance club in Southern California, Ricky was a lovely image of naturally tanned fit body, short, nicely trimmed black hair and eyes of midnight blue. He took hold of Angel’s waist and turned him around in one smooth motion so the boy’s back was against his chest, ass against crotch, then began to move the younger man’s body in time with his own. His mouth was close to his ear, whispering instructions.
