Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
GARRISON
“A male revue?” I blinked at the marquee as we strolled up to the club.
Chett bounced ahead and turned to face us—running on several cosmos from our last stop—and spread his arms wide. “Yes! Hot guys in tiny outfits. It’s what every bachelor party needs.”
“Unless you’re straight,” Ewan’s very straight brother, Liam, mumbled.
Ewan hooked his arm around Liam’s shoulders. “Remember that time I had to go to a strip club with you when you turned twenty-one? Now we’re even.”
I laughed as Liam shot his brother a skeptical look.
The ripped bouncer straining the seams of his black T-shirt sleeves patiently waited as tipsy Chett tried to pull up the tickets on his phone. He scanned the screen once Chett found them.
“Bar’s to the left. Someone will come by and take drink orders at your seats too.” The bouncer turned his attention to the next group in line.
“I need a drink.” Liam marched to the bar, and we followed.
After the others ordered, the cute cub behind the bar with long dark hair turned his attention to me. “What can I get you, cutie?”
“I’m the DD. Soda’s fine.”
He eyed me. “You like fruit juice? I can make you a mocktail.”
I smiled my gratitude. “That sounds good. Thanks.”
He winked and busied himself with making our drinks.
Loud music thumped in my chest as I scanned the room. Garnet-red fabric draped the walls and a dozen rows of chairs with matching seat covers faced the stage. It was cramped and would’ve been chic a couple of decades ago. I loved it.
The place was full of enthusiastic queer men and bachelorette parties, judging by the number of tiaras and phallic-adorned sashes.
A few minutes later, with drinks in hand, we wove our way through the crowd to our seats. Chett had scored the second row, which meant we were going to get an eyeful of dick tonight. I wasn’t mad about it.
Ewan filed in first, with me following. Chett sat on my other side, with Liam settling farthest from the stage.
Liam leaned around Chett. “Have you found a date for the wedding yet?”
I gritted my teeth as I prepared to answer the question for the dozenth time. “I’m not bringing one.” Why was it such a big deal that I planned to go solo as a groomsman to Ewan’s wedding? I’d be too busy to entertain someone and didn’t want anyone interrupting my focus on my best friend.
“If you don’t, I’ve got someone I’ll set you up with.” Chett’s setups never went well.
The last time I’d agreed to one, he’d come across a post on Craigslist for someone with an extra ticket to a vendor fair for the BDSM lifestyle. That wasn’t the issue. The problem occurred when Chett sent me an address to “meet his work buddy for dinner.” I thought we were meeting at the hotel’s restaurant, not perusing the Shibari and impact toy vendors in the ballroom.
I shot Ewan a nervous glance.
“He doesn’t need to bring a date. There’re quite a few people coming solo,” Ewan said. Always a loyal friend.
“But a wedding is the best time to get some ass. C’mon, Gar, you could use some. That’ll be more fun than the stick you’ve got up there now.”
I pushed his shoulder and laughed. Such a dickhead.
Chett leaned across my lap. “By the way, I told them it’s your bachelor party.” He waggled his eyebrows at Ewan.
The color drained from Ewan’s face. “What? Why?”
“Maybe they’ll call you on stage!” Chett shimmied his shoulders.
Ewan turned pleading eyes toward me.
Did Chett not know him at all? Ewan would hate that kind of attention.
I patted his leg. “If they call on us, I’ll go.” The prospect of going on stage for a public lap dance didn’t appeal to me, but I wasn’t shy like Ewan. This was his special night, and I wanted him to be comfortable. Not everyone was an attention slut like Chett.
His eyes lit up. “You’re the best!”
The music quieted and the lights lowered as a drag queen strutted onstage. She wore the hell out of an iridescent sequin dress, teetering black heels, and curly black hair that reached toward the ceiling. If the taller hair meant the closer to God—they must be besties. The highlighter on her reddish-brown cheeks glittered under the lights.
“Good evening, degenerates. I’m Liza Licious, your emcee for the evening. Are you ready for a show?”
Chett roared in my ear as the crowd cheered. Ewan shot me a wary glance, and I gave him a reassuring smile.
The queen cupped her hand over her mouth and turned toward the backstage. “We’re calling it off, gents. The crowd isn’t excited enough. Put your clothes back on.”
The audience cheered so loud it had to be audible across the street.
“Never mind. Show’s back on. Better oil your abs!” The queen turned back to us and bounced her expertly lined eyebrows.
She sashayed to the other side of the stage, with the spotlight seamlessly following her, and did a cutesy finger wave to someone in the front row. “I like your glasses, cutie.”
The queen’s gaze scanned the crowd. “Before I let the men loose on you, let’s go over some ground rules. First, tip your servers. Don’t be a stingy bitch.” There were scattered extra loud cheers—probably from service industry workers in attendance.
“Second, cheer for the dancers. The more skin they show, the louder I want you to be. Tip them too. Inflation’s a bastard.”
The crowd roared.
“Third, have fun!” She waved and glided offstage.
A popular country song blared through the speakers with lyrics about getting tipsy as a half dozen men in chaps, tiny briefs, and cropped vests trotted onstage in a formation that involved miming lassoing each other. It was hot despite the silliness. How could it not be with miles of oiled muscle on display?
I immediately scanned their lower halves. What can I say? I’m a thigh guy . I zeroed in on one set of legs. Long, lean, toned, and a nice bulge too. The royal-blue briefs sparkled in the stage lights. The perfect length to wrap around my waist. Maybe Chett was right after all about me needing to get laid.
As my gaze wandered up the body of the man dancing around the stage, I groaned and dropped my head back.
“What?” Ewan asked in my ear over the music.
First, a breakup singing telegram, then a shitty sandwich, and now he was expertly grinding his body in a way that would haunt my dreams as much as my waking hours. Lord, help me.
I shook my head. “I’ll explain later.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off him. The smoothness of his silly choreography and fantastic singing voice during the telegram had implied skills in performing arts, but I assumed college theater kid, not male revue dancer.
The song shifted as the chaps and vests came off. My singer smacked his ass before running off stage, which earned a roar of cheers.
As the show continued and dancers came on and off stage, I sought him out each time. With every gyration, twerk, and body roll, I had to work increasingly hard to ignore the swelling in my pants.
The drag queen returned to the stage after a few songs. “Are you having fun?”
I winced at the decibels from the crowd’s cheers.
“Good. That’s what we want to hear, darlings. Now, I’ve been told there are some fine people celebrating big events in the crowd tonight.” The queen placed the edge of her hand over her eyes and scanned the crowd as the spotlight pointed at the audience.
The bachelorette parties wooed loud enough to carry the rest of the crowd. Chett held his own too. I braced myself for the likelihood that I would end up on stage soon. I couldn’t decide whether I did or didn’t want my singer. I had about a sixteen percent chance of getting him out of the six dancers.
I shifted in my seat as the second bride dance began and he didn’t come out. The odds shifted to twenty-five percent. The last thing I needed was to pop wood in front of Chett. He’d give me shit until the day I died. Hell, if he died first, he’d find a way to haunt me to maintain the teasing.
“Is there a Ewan in the audience?” Liza scanned the crowd. “I hear you’re getting married on Valentine’s Day. Isn’t that sweet? Giving all his single friends a chance to hook up at a wedding. What a service to the community. Let’s give Ewan a round of applause.”
Ewan’s fingers dug into my thigh.
“Come on up, Ewan. We’ve got a special treat for you.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got it,” I said to Ewan over the cheers. “Tell Chett.” I waved my hand at Liza and stood.
He smiled gratefully and nodded as I turned to scoot past Chett and Liam.
“My, my. Too bad this one’s taken. Look at you, cutie.” I glanced down at my tight, black jeans and snug, short-sleeve button-up. Hopefully, the dark pants would hide the bulk of my bulge if I got excited.
I smiled and tried to channel groom-to-be energy—whatever that was.
Up close, the queen’s makeup was impeccable. She held the edge of her hand against the side of her mouth and spoke in a stage whisper. “A little birdie told us that you have a thing for smutty romance novels with faeries.” She aimed the microphone at me.
I’m going to kill Chett. I shot him a glare. He was damn near doubled over with laughter while Ewan mouthed an apology. This is for Ewan. Play along.
“I do. The smuttier, the better.” I might not read them, but I could give the crowd something to cheer over, and cheer they did.
The queen’s smile grew as her eyes twinkled. “Lucky for you, we have fae among our dancers. Have a seat.”
Ewan couldn’t get enough of those books. His favorite was one involving peacocks, and when he’d popped into a local bookstore to pick up a special edition version, he met his fiancé, who was grabbing the same book. I was surprised they weren’t getting married in the bookstore, but their peacock wedding theme was so them.
At least Ewan would get to enjoy the show from the safety of his seat. Chett meant well, but the fucker was buying the next time we went out.
I sat on the oversized wooden dining chair spray-painted black with fake gemstones hot-glued to it. It had a chintzy throne vibe that blended well with the space.
Liza made a sweeping gesture toward the chair. “You are the king of the fairy realm. Your favorite fae performer has come for your entertainment.” She gave me an exaggerated wink.
A spotlight pointed at me, making it difficult to see the crowd. As I searched for my friends, I spotted them grinning at me. Even Liam looked interested.
“Your Majesty.” Liza bowed and exited the stage as a sultry song began playing.
I drummed my fingertips on my thigh as I waited. Sweat broke out on my brow under the hot lights.
After what felt like an eternity of waiting for something to happen, people cheered. The chair’s tall back prevented me from seeing the fate that awaited me, but the faces I could make out in the light eagerly watched something to my right. As their heads slowly shifted toward me, a shiver raced up my spine. It was like the anticipation of walking through a haunted house and waiting for someone to jump out at me. But instead of a zombie, I was going to get dry-humped in front of a crowd by a mostly naked guy.
I jumped when fingertips teased along my arms and then flat palms slid down my chest. I didn’t mind getting touched, but it would be nice to see who was doing it. Whoever-it-was’s hands continued groping my torso, and when he loosely cupped my neck with one hand, the crowd went wild. The guy was good. He still stood behind the chair and already had the audience riled.
Since he was taking his sweet-ass time to reveal himself, I tried to figure out which guy it might be. The hands belonged to one of the white dancers, which dropped the odds to fifty-fifty it was my singer. Against my better judgment, the possibility of it being him made my dick perk.
Finally, a figure moved into my peripheral vision on my left. The first thing I noticed were long, bare legs and a green loincloth. My gaze trailed a path up the now-familiar body, landing on pointy ears and a blond wig trailing down his back. Glittery green wings stuck out from behind his toned shoulders. I couldn’t help my smile. He looked adorable.
He gripped the back of the chair and spun toward me, faltering ever-so-slightly when he saw my face.
“Surprise.” He might not be able to hear me over the music, but hopefully, he could at least make out the word. I barely refrained from doing jazz hands.
His eyes widened, but he recovered quickly. He bent at the waist, placed his palms on my thighs, and leaned in close. I watched his hips rock side-to-side. Hopefully, Chett was filming this because it had to be one hell of a view from his perspective.
“Thought your name was Garrison Harrison? It’s Ewan?”
I’d always hated the rhyming of my name, but I loved the lyrical way he said it.
He dragged his hand up my thigh, stopping at a respectable distance from my dick, and draped himself over my lap.
I could’ve sworn disappointment flashed in his eyes. “Ewan’s shy, so I came on stage for him.”
His smile grew. “Aww. Taking one for the team.” He straddled my legs and cupped his hands behind my head as he gyrated above my lap. So close to touching, but not quite. A tease.
He stepped back and did a few dance moves facing me. I couldn’t choose between holding eye contact and tracking where his hands trailed down his torso. After facing the audience and dancing some more, he moved in close to body-roll over me. When he was within whispering distance again, I asked his name.
“Lex.”
“Like sex with an L?”
He winked and then smoothly spun around to mimic something similar to a reverse cowboy. There was no way I’d get out of here without at least a chubby. Jesus.
Lex—the name suited him—continued his routine. Whenever he faced me, I stared into his eyes, and the crowd disappeared. The pulse-pounding music drowned out the audience until it was only us. For a moment, I allowed myself to picture this as the conclusion to a date. Stumbling home giddy, pawing at each other’s clothes, until Lex decided to give me a show. The man was so damn alluring.
While Lex danced in front of me, facing the crowd, I rummaged in my pocket for the fifty I’d shoved there earlier. When he turned toward me again and moved close, I hooked my finger in the waistband of his loincloth and pulled enough to stick the bill in. I licked my lips when I caught a glimpse of the base of his shaft and a patch of trimmed blond pubes. His wings provided the illusion of privacy despite all the eyes on us.
Lex’s sultry grin grew. “A fifty? So generous. That deserves a reward.” He straddled me, wrapped his legs around my arms and the chair, trapping me, and leaned back.
Whatever face he made as he looked at the crowd upside down sent them into a tizzy. Lex body-rolled on my lap, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the fifty flapping with each motion.
Having my arms trapped made me want to touch him more. I flexed my fingers, desperate to feel him. Lex sat up, draped his arms over the back of the chair on each side of my head, and rocked his pelvis into me. Seriously , how the hell am I supposed to stand in front of a crowd after this?
“How was the sandwich?” His smile was smug.
“Full of pickles.”
A sexy grin curved his lips. “I gave you extra extra.”
I arched an eyebrow. “I wrote no pickles.”
The sway of his hips faltered for a fraction of a second before his pert ass brushed my groin. He turned and caressed his lips against my ear. “Guess I owe you more apology chocolates.”
I held in a groan as he gracefully got to his feet and swung one leg so he stood to the side of me, facing the crowd as he straddled my lap once again. His ass was damn near in biting distance. I’d never been much of a biter, but Lex inspired me to want to try a lot of new things.
Lex bent enough to grab my hands and place them on his chest, then dragged my hands down his tight abs, passing each side of his dick, barely brushing it, and continued along his thighs. He bent over, shoving his ass in my face, taunting me. God, I wanted to play with it—with him.
I didn’t understand why Lex kept popping up in my path, but this meeting had me thanking the universe. Lex flashed a warm smile. More than a sultry, showy grin to earn tips. At least, that’s what I told myself, but how many men had sat in this chair rationalizing the same delusional thoughts? This was his job. I couldn’t read chemistry where there probably wasn’t any. It wasn’t fair to him.
I was dizzy with desire by the time he did some complicated dance moves facing the crowd, then turned and slid on his knees, spreading my legs wide open as his mouth hovered over my lap. His bright-blue eyes stared up at me, ensnaring me, making my head spin and dick fight for attention. The audience roared, and I knew I’d need to stand soon, so I tried to think about gross things like cleaning my dishwasher filter so I could maintain my dignity when I had to leave the stage. The flirty wink Lex sent me before gracefully rising to his feet didn’t help.
Lex held out his hand, and I took it and stood. After intertwining our fingers, he moved me so we faced the crowd side-by-side and bent in a bow. His hand felt familiar in mine. Like it had been there hundreds of times before—our palms sharing a memory.
I caught sparkles in my peripheral vision as Liza returned to the stage, yanking me back to reality. Lex pulled me close and gently kissed my cheek, which sent flutters through my stomach. He winked and left the stage with another wave to the crowd as someone escorted me back to my seat. He’s at work. Get a hold of yourself.
Liam averted his eyes when I returned. Chett whistled and Ewan’s mouth hung open.
“Uh…” Ewan said when I took my seat.
Was my erection that obvious, or were my I-wanna-fuck-that-guy pheromones rolling off me like soundwaves from the speakers?
“I’ll explain later.”
Ewan’s eyebrows rose even higher. No matter how many drinks he’d had, he wouldn’t forget to ask.
There wasn’t much show left, and Lex only came out for the last number. He seemed to be searching the crowd, or maybe that was my imagination getting away from me. But when he spotted me, he winked. Or at least that’s what I chose to believe. Those stage lights were intense. God, Ewan telling me about those fairy romances had scrambled my brain.
Though, it couldn’t hurt to give him another chance to make me a good sandwich.