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The neon sign above "The Velvet Anchor" flickered, casting a rhythmic violet glow over the rain-slicked pavement. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of cedarwood, expensive gin, and the low hum of anticipation.

Julian took it. Elias’s grip was firm, his skin warm against the chill of Julian’s palm. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through Julian, a physical pull so sharp it stole his breath. They didn't let go. The noise of the bar—the clinking glasses, the muffled bass of the music—melted away until there was only the heat radiating between them. "Julian," he managed to say. gaysexy#ii=9

"Well, Julian," Elias whispered, leaning in closer until his breath brushed Julian’s ear. "I have a feeling this night is just getting started." The neon sign above "The Velvet Anchor" flickered,

He was tall, wearing a charcoal overcoat that draped perfectly over broad shoulders. When he moved toward the bar, his gait was effortless, possessed of a quiet confidence that made the rest of the room fade into a blurred background. He took the stool next to Julian, the scent of rain and bergamot trailing him. Elias’s grip was firm, his skin warm against

"Depends on what you find inside," Julian replied, finally looking up.