Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Beck
This was a terrible idea.
My reservations peaked at the sight of the club bathrooms, which sparked a litany of objections along the lines of I’m too old for this shit.
Then Zephyr grabbed my dick and used it like a joystick to steer me right where he wanted me.
Moments later, he was right where I wanted him—on his knees on the tile floor, unbuckling my belt.
I knew why he chose this place: lack of cameras. Maslow had eyes all over the building, but even he had the decency not to put surveillance in the shitter. The restroom had the wraith’s fingerprints on it in other ways, though.
Black marble counters, backlit mirrors, gilded sconces—the whole setup looked like a vampire’s wet dream. The sinks were modern, rectangular things with touchless faucets that never worked right. Half the time they ignored you, and the other half they blasted out ice water like punishment.
A row of stalls made of diamond-cut steel were butted up against the far wall. All empty. A small blessing.
But why was I looking at any of that when there was a hungry incubus kneeling before me, working the button on my slacks?
He was tugging the zipper down when I gained the presence of mind to protest.
“Hell, no.” I stumbled back. “I’m not sticking my cock in that bear trap.”
Zephyr’s eyes pinched with pain, and breath lodged in my chest.
He was a vision beneath me with his scarlet hair swept back, lips parted, and pale skin flushed. Fuck, I was so far gone for this man. Almost desperate enough to risk bodily harm just to feel the wet heat of his mouth on my dick.
But he had other holes.
I bit back a groan at the thought of his ass lubed with slick and impossibly tight. Adequate felt like an understatement now, and I marveled at how dramatically my memory of the event had shifted in a matter of days. Objectivity had gone out the window, leaving nothing behind but wanton desire.
If I didn’t know better, I would have thought I’d been enthralled.
Zephyr waited with his mouth open and hands ready to free my erection until I urged him to his feet.
“Get in the stall.” I nodded toward the one nearest the wall, then let him lead the way.
Inside, everything became a flurry of hands moving and clothes shifting.
Within seconds, Zephyr’s pants and underwear were piled around his ankles, exposing his cock to the air.
He made a fumbling grab for it but barely managed to wrap his fingers around the shaft before I spun him around and shoved him against the wall.
He let out a cry of surprise, but his body was pliant beneath my hands. Catching his wrists, I pinned them high over his head, drawing him onto his tiptoes. Then I leaned back to admire the view.
After watching him on the silks, then nearly taking him from behind in his bedroom, the half-moon arch of his back was a shape branded into my mind. I wanted to bend him like that now. Stretch that limber body until we both snapped.
I dragged my free hand down his spine to the crack of his ass. He shifted into my touch and craned his neck to watch as my fingers roamed lower, trailing through the slick leaking from his hole.
“Goddamn, this ass,” I murmured. Fluid coated my fingers as I slid them past the tight ring of his entrance.
Zephyr moaned, pressing his chest and one cheek against the wall.
Slowly, I stabbed and swirled my fingers inside him, prodding the bundle of nerves that made his breaths come in gasps.
My cock strained inside my pants, demanding access, but I was enjoying this.
The subtle bumps of his ribs, the curve of his waist, the dimples in his lower back, and every sinewy muscle that strung him together…
He was like art, something that should be cast in bronze and admired for the ages, and that beauty juxtaposed with this sterile bathroom stall was staggering.
He said he’d been thinking about me.
It was a line.
This gorgeous creature had seen dozens of men every night before our tryst and every night since. I was sure he’d told them all the same, but I wanted to believe it. It spoke to some lonely part of me that I should have quashed before I heard myself ask, “Did you miss me, Beauty?”
“Ngh… yeah.”
I worked a third finger into him, and he whined, then repeated, “Yeah. Yes.”
“Zephyr,” I began with no idea of what came next. Like I was trying out the sound of his name—his only name, and that felt like a pity.
He strained again, looking back with dilated eyes and waiting for me to do more than stroke his prostate while thinking about his name.
I pulled my hand out, then gazed down at the milky white film on my digits. Zephyr saw it too, and when he did, his tongue snaked across his lips, leaving them wet and glistening.
“I wanna…” He swallowed. “Can I taste?”
The words dropped straight to my groin.
I leaned in, pressing against his back and moving my fingers near his face, barely out of reach. “You wanna lick yourself off my hand?” I asked. “See how wet you are for me?”
He nipped his lips between his teeth, then gave a jerky nod.
“If you bite me, I’ll spank your ass,” I warned.
Zephyr’s answering whimper was practically a plea, and my cock went stiff in my unfastened pants.
I was rapidly learning I could not say no to this man, which was a liability for my heart and body parts. I glanced at where my hand hovered near his face. At least it wasn’t the one with the Band-Aid on it. Worst case, I’d come out of this with matching scars.
“Fuck. Fine,” I muttered, then speared my slick-coated fingers deep into Zephyr’s mouth.
He shuddered, and his eyes rolled back, lids fluttering. Then, like he had the first time, he began to suck.
His tongue moved like the rest of him, flexible as fuck, worming between my digits so nimbly I regretted not letting him blow me after all.
Drool mingled with the slick he greedily lapped off me, and by the time he swallowed the mix down, my dick was so jealous I could deny it no longer.
I yanked my hand free, leaving him empty and wanting as I shoved my slacks down and pulled my cock and balls over the waistband of my briefs. Palming my shaft, I guided it toward his entrance. Zephyr canted his hips back, seeking contact.
I was too keyed up to delay another second, so I rammed into him in a rough, claiming thrust.
Zephyr let out a breathless sound as I bottomed out. My groin pressed against his ass, and his channel clenched around me, leaking fluid that dripped down my balls.
Once I was seated inside, I slid my hand around, skimming over his ribs and taut belly. I moved upward from there, under the hem of his top where the tight fabric pinned me in place. His chest heaved against my palm, and his nipples pebbled as I thumbed across one then the other.
Zephyr squirmed while impaled on my cock. He rubbed his head on the stall wall and ground his ass against me, frantically chasing friction.
Rocking back, I slammed into him again and set a rapid pace. I couldn’t afford to last long. Every minute risked discovery by Zephyr’s coworkers or Maslow himself.
If Colette found out about this, I would tell her the sex was subpar. A quick fuck in a cramped bathroom stall. Regrettable. Forgettable. And that would be a lie.
I barely knew this man, but I wanted to. I wanted more while I was actively taking all I could get. He felt exquisite, and while I didn’t say his name again, I thought it.
Somewhere in the middle of the frenzy, I ended up pressed flush to him, clutching his chest while holding his hands captive. His hair brushed my face, and I breathed him in—sweet like cherries with a curl of smoky vanilla.
This connection was something I had missed, and I thought bitterly of Maslow’s comment about my cock growing cold in Stefano’s absence.
There had been a few others since my angel ex, entanglements as fleeting as this was bound to be.
Yet here I was, craving something I couldn’t have.
Not with a paid performer. Not with a whore.
I needed to get off and get out. Maybe take that singles cruise and fuck this foolishness out of my system. Retire to Florida and forget. Honestly, in light of Maslow’s plan to throw a wrench into the political machinery of Las Vegas, it might be a good idea to skip town.
“B-Beck?” Zephyr stammered. The sound of my name on his lips sent my thoughts into a spiral.
“Yeah?”
“I think…” He gulped. “I think I’m gonna come.”
A smile tugged at my lips. “Go ahead, Beauty. I’m right behind you.”
With my permission, his body bucked, and his channel tightened. Cum splattered the wall in roping ribbons, pulsing from his untouched cock.
He whimpered as I fucked him through it, cupping his jaw and pulling his head back against my shoulder as my own ecstasy peaked.
Sensations brought a wash of tingling heat, and I clutched Zephyr in a full-bodied embrace, wishing there were no clothes between us so I could feel the sweat on his skin.
I released Zephyr’s arms, and they dropped heavily to his sides. I stayed inside him, lingering the way I had the first time. He seemed equally content to remain connected. Like we weren’t in a club bathroom stall. Like this was something special.
My hold on his throat was damn near affectionate. I cradled his chin while his head rested just below and beside mine. Long lashes dusted his cheeks as his eyes closed, and air whispered past his pretty lips.
“Wish you could stay like this forever,” he murmured. “Feels nice.”
I chuckled. “You like warming cock, Beauty?”
Zephyr purred a happy sound. “I like… being full.”
I smoothed my thumb along his jaw while bringing my other hand to rest on his hip. If we’d been lying down instead of standing inches from a toilet, this might have been intimate.
Zephyr leaned back, trusting me to support his weight. “And I like it when you call me Beauty.”
“Well, you needed another name. That one seems to suit.” Glancing down, I saw the stain of blush on his face, and that was enough. Maybe too much.
My withdrawal from the damp warmth of his hole left us both dripping. Cum and slick speckled the floor and the pants pooled around his ankles. He seemed to regain awareness once we were apart, and the color on his cheeks darkened until it almost matched his hair.
I fastened my slacks and buckled my belt while Zephyr stooped to grab his underwear.
“I’ll give you a minute,” I told him as I exited the stall.
Going to the sinks, I washed my hands, using the task as an excuse to think about my exit strategy.
What came next? Did I shout a parting thanks while the guy I’d just fucked mopped cum out of his ass? Leave some cash on the bathroom counter? Or keep standing there watching water run down the drain?
When Zephyr emerged, I watched him in the wall-mounted mirror. He was still flushed, and his eyes cut aside as he smoothed flyaways into his ponytail.
He’d told me not to pay him last time, but I hardly expected that charity to continue. He got something out of it, though: the feast of my lust. Maybe that was compensation enough.
It was awkward to ask but worse to assume.
I turned from the sink, forgetting to dry my hands in the haste of my snap decision. My fingers left wet stamps on my suit coat as I fumbled inside just as a voice resounded in the hall.
“Beck?”
Colette. Damn her. I told her to wait in the car.
“Lucas!” she shouted.
Zephyr turned toward the bathroom door, and the color drained from his face.
“My associate,” I explained.
There was no need to wonder how she got inside. The bouncers were also hellhounds, and theirs was a tight-knit community. Not to mention Colette was equally as effective at negotiating with her French charm as she was with her .38 Special. Few people could resist her wiles, myself included.
“We’ll settle up later,” I told Zephyr.
His head tilted quizzically. “Settle what?”
But I was already leaving, hurrying out to catch the hellhound roaming the building and raising a ruckus with my name attached. I bolted into the hall and spotted Colette at the other end, accompanied by the Dollhouse’s one-man welcoming committee, Luxe.
Apparently, Colette’s invasion of the club had garnered a tour guide. And Luxe seemed all too happy to spend his off hours helping a lost hellhound search for her owner.
They approached in stride. In her Louboutin pumps, Colette towered over the petite man, and had to bend down to whisper something that made them both laugh. They looked awfully chummy, and I wondered what gossip they’d been spreading in my absence.
“Hiya, Becky.” Luxe flicked his tail. “I was just getting acquainted with your friend here. While you were getting reacquainted with mine.”
After his involvement in my first meeting with Zephyr and now this, feigning ignorance wasn’t likely to work, but my pride demanded that I try.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said.
Sure enough, Luxe deadpanned, “Zephyr missed breakfast.”
Colette snickered. “Perhaps he helped himself to a bit of sausage.”
The two erupted in laughter again while my brow creased.
“He’s a vegetarian,” I replied.
The statement put a stop to their ribbing, and Luxe sobered as he said, “Cute that you know that.”
I grimaced.
Pressing forward, I sidestepped their roadblock and motioned for Colette to follow. “Let’s go, Coll.”
My advance cleared the path behind me so they could easily see the area I’d just vacated. It didn’t escape Colette’s notice.
“Were you…” She glanced at Luxe. “Is that the bathroom?”
He bobbed his head, dusting white locks across his brown skin. “Sure is.”
“And you were…?” Colette sniffed a trail through the air that led straight to me. “In the bathroom? Oh, Beck.”
She sounded patronizing. And pleased.
I waved her off. “I met with Maslow, then stopped to wash my hands. Now I’m ready to go.”
“Why were you meeting with Mazzy?” Luxe’s amiable expression took on a suspicious slant.
“Don’t mind those pretty bitches downstairs.” Maslow’s words taunted me again, and I frowned. The wraith had no business being so far under my skin.
“Doesn’t matter,” I told Luxe while wondering why I owed him any explanation at all. “It’s a nonstarter. And I need to go.”
Before Zephyr came out of that bathroom and buried me in guilt.
Before I thought too hard about the confusion in his voice when I’d told him I would reconcile my bill later.
Didn’t he know what this was?
Didn’t I?
Luxe offered no further opposition as Colette and I departed, but my shoes had barely hit the sunbaked sidewalk outside before Colette drew breath to speak.
“Not a word,” I snapped.
Holding her tongue didn’t stop her from making kissing noises as we loaded into the limo and pulled away, leaving the Dollhouse in our rearview.