Rough and Rugged: A Meet Me In Milwaukee Charity Anthology

Chapter Two

Asher

Between Cliff’s overabundant cologne invading my personal space and his constant blabbering taking me away from eye-fucking the bearded lumbersnack across the bar, I’d never wanted to throw him off one as much as I did now—a cliff that was.

I snorted at my joke, which unfortunately was out loud and Cliff interpreted personally.

Oops.

Double snort.

Damn, how much beer did I have?

I glared at the glass, wondering if it had been spiked, considering this was my first.

“Are you listening to me, Lucky?” Cliff snapped, using the childhood nickname my family had given me. I grimaced at the reminder of how everyone saw me. His onion breath hit me next and it took all my effort not to gag.

“Not really.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead and attempting to move away from him.

“No wonder Ethan cheated on you. He’s way too cool for you.”

Blood pounded in my ears at the reminder of my movie star boyfriend in bed with another man. Ethan ‘perfect’ Ryan wasn’t as great as everyone believed. If I never heard his name again, I’d die happy.

“Yeah, he’s soooo cool.” I rolled my eyes at my cousin. “But he didn’t cheat on me. I broke up with him.” The lie easily rolled off my tongue. I wouldn’t survive this week at home if everyone talked about Ethan.

“Sure, Lucky.” Cliff laughed, slapping the counter. The sight of his dirty fingernails and dry skin made me nauseous.

Gross. Would it kill him to trim his nails and wash under them?

“Have you ever heard of a manicure?”

“That girlie shit?” He scrunched his nose like I’d asked if he had a tampon.

Fucking toxic masculinity.

“Contrary to your belief, getting your nails trimmed won’t turn you gay.”

“That’s not what I said. I’m not a homophobe,” he huffed.

“Sure thing, buddy.” I returned my stare to the lumberhottie, hoping he was still at the bar so we could resume our mutual eye-fucking. Disappointment settled in my gut at the now empty space.

“Back to Ethan,” he started. “There’s no way you broke up with him. Instagram claims he’s seeing that hotshot director.”

“You a secret fanboy, Cliffy? You seem to know an awful lot about my ex.” My tone was bitter, the complete opposite of what I’d hoped when I came here tonight. So I drained my pint and pulled out my wallet, ignoring my cousin as he waxed poetically about how fucking great Ethan was. I couldn’t take another minute of his nonsense.

Not tonight.

Especially if the only hot guy here was gone. I’d head over to that queer club my sister mentioned and find a hookup. I needed one night of debauchery before I had to smile and pretend my insides weren’t shredded.

“I don’t care what social media claims. I broke up with him.”

“But why?” Cliff furrowed a brow, the lines wrinkling his sweaty forehead. “I’m not into dudes, but even I wouldn’t kick Ethan Ryan out of bed.”

I wanted to laugh at the thought of Cliff with Ethan. Now that was comical. Everyone thought my ex was a fucking god because he saved the world a couple of times and did his own stunts. In reality, he was an egotistical asshole who only cared about himself. Much like everyone else I’d met in Hollywood.

“Yeah, well. I met someone better.”

He scoffed, swaying a bit on his stool. He’d clearly had more than one beer tonight. “Who? If you’re dating someone, why aren’t they here? Huh, Lucky?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

“There you are,” a deep and masculine voice purred behind me. My cousin’s eyes widened, his jaw slacked as he gawked. I didn’t know what was happening, but based on his expression and how he’d finally shut up, I decided to go with it.

I turned on my stool, praying I wouldn’t regret this. “Here I am.”

The thirst trap in flannel stood before me, his woodsy scent erasing every trace of Cliff’s awful cologne. The heat in his eyes was magnified this close, and I swallowed, drinking in his dark blue orbs, so vibrant it felt like I peered into the ocean.

I took in his impressive stature. He had to be well over six feet tall with thighs the size of tree trunks. The navy plaid on his shirt highlighted his eyes and stretched over his chest and arms in the most delicious way. He wasn’t beefy, or a gym rat like my ex with a perfectly sculpted body. No, this man was someone who earned his physique with hard labor and wasn’t afraid to eat outside his diet plan.

He stepped between my spread legs, bringing his intoxicating cedar scent and electricity closer. My breath hitched at his nearness. I tilted my head to take him in fully, my throat bobbing as I waited to see what he’d do. I focused on the lighter hairs in his dark beard, as if his face was sun-kissed and offered me a hidden secret. I had to restrain myself from running my fingers through it.

He took another step forward, completely encroaching on my space, our bodies aligned perfectly. Unlike with Cliff, I didn’t mind him being this close. He leaned forward, his chest touching mine as he trapped me against the bar, placing his hands behind me to cage me in. Something in his eyes shifted, and he briefly glanced at my lips. Out of habit, I licked them, loving how his eyes darkened.

His gaze returned to me, and I spotted a question in his eyes—like he wanted to check if I was okay with whatever he was about to do.

Fuck yes.

In fact, he could have a blanket yes. All the yeses. Whatever he wanted to do, I was down for it.

I gave a subtle nod, and he leaned in, his breath and heat seeping into me. I planted my feet so as not to roll off the stool. He gave me one last look before closing the little space and sealed our lips together.

When I’d moved to California for school, I’d quickly made up for being the only gay guy in my hometown. I’d kissed a lot of guys since then, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit that. But none of those kisses had ever felt like this.

This kiss…

I might sound like a sap, but it felt like our mouths were meant to connect.

His lips were firm and supple, and the soft hair of his beard tickled my chin. He gave the perfect amount of pressure, sending shivers through me and shocking my stalled heart into action.

A needy whimper escaped; one I would deny if anyone asked.

It spurred my handsome lumberjack on, his hands leaving the bar to cup my face. Rough calluses brushed over my cheeks, and my eyes rolled back at the contrast against my skin. He leaned further into me, his body pressed heavily into mine as our tongues sought nirvana.

I forgot who and where I was. My thoughts were consumed with this man and the way he kissed me—like I possessed the secret to happiness and it was his tongue’s mission to find it.

My cock plumped in my jeans, pressing hard against my thigh, and eager to be touched. Unintentionally, I shifted my hips and brushed against him, my cock grazing a hardness that I wasn’t sure belonged to his thigh or his dick.

His woodsy scent enveloped me along with the taste of beer and a hint of cinnamon. His tongue battled mine, consuming every cell in my body.

His smell, his taste, his touch.

He growled, demanding more, his tongue swirling with mine and completely ruining me for anyone else.

The thought shocked me, and I gasped, our lips breaking the seal. I whimpered at the loss despite being the one to break it. My head was fuzzy from the lack of oxygen…or the all-consuming lust.

I took in the dazed expression of the man before me and wondered if I looked the same. It was only then I realized I clutched his shirt in my fists. Slowly, I loosened my grip, smoothing out the material, and getting a glimpse of the hard body beneath.

“I think it’s good.” He chuckled, and I realized I was petting his pec. My cheeks heated, but I leaned into it.

“One more for good measure.” With an exaggerated pat and a wink, I finally withdrew my traitorous hand.

He laughed again, the sound doing nothing to quell the hard-as-marble dick in my jeans.

“Excuse me, but who the hell are you?” Cliff blurted, burping loudly at the end.

My lumbercrush lifted an eyebrow at me in question, but his kiss had scrambled my brain, so I shrugged. His lips tilted up in a smile so sexy it stole my breath. He reached between my legs, and I didn’t stop him, willing to spend the night in jail if it meant he touched my dick.

He wrapped his fingers around my hand, and I stared dumbly at it. When he didn’t touch my dick, I glanced back up at him. His blue eyes twinkled like stars, and I wondered if he knew what I’d been considering. The smirk dropped off his face as he turned to my cousin, once again all grumpy. If I hadn’t experienced it, I’d assume the kiss was a drunken hallucination. He squeezed my hand and stroked his thumb across my palm, erasing any doubt.

Okay, hottie lumbergrump was a secret softy.I could dig that.

“Well?” Cliff demanded, his face all sorts of confused—his brow furrowed and his nose scrunched, but if I wasn’t mistaken, his cheeks were a little flushed, and his eyes held a hint of interest beneath the alcohol glaze.

Not into dudes, my ass.

No, wait. Not my ass. We’re related, and I wouldn’t touch Cliffy and his dirty fingernails even if we weren’t.

“His boyfriend. What’s it to you?” my lumbersavior asked.

Damn, that word sounded sexy coming from him. My body tingled with energy, and my leg bounced, wanting to wrap around his waist.

“It’s just…” Cliff shook his head like he was an Etch-a-Sketch. “Wow. Okay. Well, sorry, dude. I guess I’ll see you around, Lucky.”

“Yep. Later.” I ignored him as he stumbled back to his cronies. I stood, stumbling slightly at the sudden shift. Yep, no way was I weak in the knees. Nope.

My lumbergiant steadied me, his hand gripping my hip.

“Want to get out of here?” he asked.

“Fuck yes.” My words might have sounded desperate, but I was beyond caring. That corner of his mouth lifted, and I wanted to lick it.

“Feel like dancing?” he asked, turning and taking my hand back in his. When I didn’t respond, too stunned at the ease with which he commanded the space around him, he stopped. The ease at which he commanded the space around him from pure self-confidence was a breath of fresh air.

He waited for me to respond, and I remembered he’d asked a question. His attention was doing something to my chest. It wasn’t a ploy or manipulative gesture. This man truly wanted to know what I thought and cared about the answer, just like with the kiss and answering my cousin—he’d checked with me each time.

Consent—the new aphrodisiac.

Damn. That was sexy.

“I think I’d agree to dance in the rain if you asked,” I admitted.

Delight and surprise twinkled in his blue eyes. “How does a sweaty club with mediocre music and overpriced drinks sound?”

“Perfect.” I smiled, the answer never feeling so right before. A light fluttering of wings took flight in my stomach, like the butterflies I hadn’t felt since my first crush were re-emerging.

“Later, Daws!” the man at the bar shouted when we neared the door. My lumbersnack lifted his free hand to wave. I had the distinct impression he was a man of few words, making the ones he’d uttered to me more decadent.

Daws.

It felt nice to have a name for my lumbergrump, but something about the moniker didn’t fit. He led us over to a shiny black truck, opening the door on the passenger side before stepping back. He dropped my hand, crossed his arms over his chest, and lifted a brow when I stood there. I glanced at the raised cab, feeling slightly offended at the implication. Mirroring his stance, I leaned back against the side.

“I might be shorter than you, but I can get into this truck without help.”

“I know.” He lifted his eyebrow in challenge.

“Then why are you waiting?”

“I wanted to stare at your ass.”

I stuttered at his directness. “Oh. Well. Um…”

With those eloquent words, I spun around, grabbed hold of the handle, and lifted myself into the truck. Before I climbed in, I glanced over my shoulder and true to his words, his eyes were fixed on my ass.

“Play your cards right, and you might be doing more than stare, Lumbergrump.”

His dark blue orbs jumped to mine, his pupils dilating at my suggestion. He swallowed once, recovering his composure, and I slid into the front seat, smirking as I shut the door. I heard his deep chuckle as he rounded the front of the truck, pausing to shift himself before climbing in, and making the move look sexier than should be allowed.

The truck rumbled to life, and he shifted the gears before dropping his arm on the back of my seat and leaned in. “We’ll see who’s grumpy come morning, Dimples.” His lips grazed my ear and sent shivers over my body at the mind-altering smile and effectively scrambling any retort I had.

I was so fucked when it came to this man. Thank fuck it was only one night.

My heart wouldn’t survive it otherwise.