9. Connor
CHAPTER 9
CONNOR
W hen Alex and I had first walked into Castillo de Danza, I’d immediately thought, okay, this isn’t so bad. Loud and full of flashing lights, sure, but it wasn’t packed with people and didn’t seem like too much.
An hour or so later…
Holy fuck.
The dancefloor was absolutely packed with squirming bodies. The line at every bar was five or six people deep. The music had been cranked up so loud, the earplugs weren’t even helping all that much.
I was secretly relieved he’d brought us here early, before the real noise and chaos started up. I’d had a chance to adapt to the environment, scope out all the exits, and get used to the cacophony before it had all ticked up to this point. My combat PTSD was relatively mild compared to other people I’d served with, and places like this weren’t a massive trigger for me. Still, they did tug at some of the memories I’d made in warzones. Had I walked into the club while it was like this, I might’ve had to walk right back out. Taking some time to get acclimated made a big difference, though, and by the time it had reached this level, I was okay. My demons were tucked into the deepest recesses of my consciousness where they belonged, and I didn’t have that “oh shit ” feeling I could get when something plucked at the threads of my past trauma.
I’d be fine.
The alcohol had helped, too. I wasn’t one for self-medicating and never had been, but even I could acknowledge there were times when it helped take the edge off.
Now if it could take the edge off my nerves about being here—being in a gay nightclub and maybe stumbling my stupid ass onto an attractive man’s radar—that would be great. No such luck so far.
Especially since, at the moment, I was alone.
Well, “alone,” seeing as there had to be five hundred people in this room. But I was standing by myself beside the table Alex and I had commandeered earlier. I felt a little like I was standing in the middle of a school of fish—they all whipped around me in a vortex of color and activity, but I doubted any of them even noticed me.
Was that a good thing? A bad thing? I couldn’t quite decide. I also hadn’t ventured far from this table since we’d gotten here, except to get a second round of beers for Alex and me.
Now my glass was empty, Alex was nowhere in sight, and this table felt like a buoy in the middle of a choppy sea—the only thing I could use to orient myself, and I was afraid to get too far away from it.
Which kind of defeats the purpose of being in a club, idiot.
Yeah, it did. I knew it did. But I hadn’t had high hopes tonight. I was going to venture into a club and see what it was like. That was it. Mission accomplished. Actually meeting someone and hooking up with them? Not likely.
It was especially not likely now when every face in the room blurred together in a single colorful mass of not Alex . When a face did come into focus, they were…
God, so many of the guys in here were way too young. There were plenty who were my age and older—I’d definitely seen some gray and some lines in this crowd—but most of the men in here were in their twenties. Maybe early thirties. Some were probably close to my sons’ ages, which… no. Just, no.
Was it too early to call it a night? I’d done what I came here to do, and I was pretty sure that was as good as it was going to get this time. That was fine. As eager as I was to land in bed with a man, it didn’t have to be tonight. I’d known I was bi for almost fifteen years; waiting a little longer to actually experience a man wouldn’t kill me.
Especially since there weren’t a lot of men here who spoke English, and so many of them were so young, and only one of them was Alex Barlow, and…
I closed my eyes and pushed out a breath. The bass thumped alongside my pounding heart, vibrating up through the floor and along my bones.
Coming here with Alex probably hadn’t been a good idea. How the hell was I supposed to pay any attention to other men when the one I’d spent last night fantasizing about was right there and out of my reach? Couldn’t I have just brought my own ass to a club and fumbled my way through without asking him to guide me into?—
“Oh my God.” Alex’s voice broke through all the noise in the club and in my head, and when I opened my eyes, he’d appeared beside the table. “Sorry about that.” He gestured over his shoulder as he placed two bottles of water between us. “Line was a mile long.”
I’m so glad you’re back.
“It’s okay.” I picked up one of the bottles. “Thanks.”
He flashed a smile that almost broke my brain, and I concentrated on downing a good half the water in one go. Air conditioning or not, this place was hot as hell now that it was full of people.
I realized a second too late that Alex had asked me something. My own distraction had kept me from hearing part of it, and the noise of the club swallowed the rest. “Sorry, what?”
He leaned closer and shouted over the noise, “I asked if you were going to hit the dancefloor.”
Heat surged through me, and I held the cold bottle tighter. “I, uh… I haven’t…” With a self-conscious laugh, I gestured at the floor. “I haven’t danced in a club in years .”
Oh, fuck me—that smile.
“Well. What are you waiting for?” He gestured in the same direction I had. “Now’s as good a time as any.”
I gulped. “I don’t want to make an ass of myself.”
Alex shrugged. “Most people in here will be too drunk to notice. The rest will either be checking someone else out, or checking you out and not giving a damn how you dance.”
“Yeah, right.” I sipped my water again. “I doubt too many people in here”—I circled my finger in the air—“are paying much attention to the forty-year-old guy.”
“Ooh, I wouldn’t bet money on that.”
I shot him a skeptical look.
Alex studied me. Then he laughed, shook his head, and clapped my arm. “My friend. You really are new to the queer scene, aren’t you?”
“Um. Yes?”
He sighed with exasperation, though there was still humor in his eyes. “Do you think I—a guy looking down the barrel of forty myself—would come to a place like this if no one paid attention to older men?”
Okay. That was a fair question.
Before I could respond, he leaned over the table, and though he still had to shout over the noise and through my earplugs, his voice came across like a conspiratorial whisper. I could hear him just fine, but the words took a second to actually register, mostly because he was suddenly close enough to me that I caught a hint of a subtle and intriguing cologne.
Then my brain caught up to what he’d said:
“Trust me—get out on the dancefloor, and you won’t have any trouble finding someone to dance with.”
I straightened a little. “You don’t think so?”
He smirked. “Tell you what.” Nodding toward the crowded floor, he said, “Go out there for three songs. If no one wants to dance with you, I’ll cover your train ticket and your hotel for this trip.”
Well, I wasn’t one to turn down a deal, and I liked the challenging gleam in his eyes a lot more than I probably should have.
“All right.” I shrugged and brought up my water bottle for another swig. “You’re on.”
His grin was toothy and wide. “That’s what I thought.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I started to step away from the table, but hesitated. “I, uh…” I scanned the crowd. “Don’t… really know how to dance.”
He waved that away and took me by the elbow. “No one does. Just move to the beat. Start with your hips, then do whatever feels right.” He gestured at the crowd as he tugged me toward it. “That’s what everyone else is doing.”
I was dubious of that. I’d seen too many videos of people showing off their dance moves. I’d even treated a kid in the ER who’d sprained his knee on a dancefloor, insisting “I’ve been doing those moves forever.”
I didn’t have “moves.” I didn’t buy that everyone else out there was just going with the flow and faking it till they made it.
But could I say no to that glint in Alex’s eyes? To that tug at my elbow?
No, I could not.
So I let him lead me away from the safety of our table into the dense mass of people.
When he released my arm, I had that momentary panic like a lifeline had just snapped, leaving me in rough waters with nothing to cling to. But he was still close by. Still in sight.
He gave me a reassuring wink, and then he started doing exactly what he’d told me to do—move to the music. Start with the hips and go from there.
And… forget dancing. I wasn’t sure I could remember how to walk now that I was watching him move.
The momentum of the crowd kept me from being completely still; I moved a little to keep people from crashing into me, and out of necessity, that meant moving with the music. So at least I wasn’t just standing here like a dipshit.
But for the most part, all I did was stare at Alex.
At the way his hips moved like they had a mind of their own.
At the way he put up his arms and closed his eyes and just seemed to get lost in the music.
Fuck. Hadn’t he said this place used air conditioning? Because it was suddenly way too damn hot, and I didn’t think it had to do with all these bodies around me.
Right then, someone emerged from the crowd, and I lost my own rhythm for a couple of beats when his hands slid over Alex’s waist. Alex’s eyes fluttered open, and oh, God, if I’d thought his earlier grin was sexy…
Someone bumped into me, and I remembered I wasn’t supposed to be just standing here. I tore my gaze away from Alex so I could concentrate on moving. That helped. Checking out some of the other men helped, too.
And oh, hell, there were some hot men in this room. I’d been afraid walking into a gay club that it would be like I’d seen on TV or in photos—perfect bodies and six-packs as far as the eye could see. Yeah, there were men here who wouldn’t be out of place in underwear ads, but there were also normal guys. Some who were way too young, but not all.
If I’d had any lingering doubts that I was bi—and I didn’t—they would’ve evaporated in the heat of this dancefloor. So many attractive men. So many broad shoulders and gorgeous asses. So many disarming eyes and perfect lips; I’d been curious for a long, long time about what it would feel like to kiss a man, and my pulse raced at the thought that it might happen tonight. That before the sun rose, I might know what another man’s mouth tasted like.
Christ, was I getting hard?
I was. How could I not? I hadn’t been touched in four years. Tonight, I might break that dry spell. With a man. With one of the men in this room right now.
Fuck, yes. Bring it on.
Without thinking, I gave a quick glance around to make sure my lifeline was still here. I found that red shirt in the crowd and?—
My breath stuttered.
He wasn’t just dancing close to that other guy—he was dancing close to him. A hand firmly on the other guy’s ass. I couldn’t see much of Alex’s face, but I could see enough of the other guy’s to know he wanted Alex. He wanted him bad. His dark eyes were absolutely gleaming with need. Their faces almost touching, and all he or Alex would need to do was inhale deeply and they’d be kissing.
Alex said something. The guy laughed. Even at this angle, Alex’s smile fucked with my balance. So did the way he used the hand on the guy’s ass to pull them even closer together. God, was his thigh between the other man’s legs? And was that?—
Jesus. Alex’s untucked shirt had mostly hidden it, but when they moved just so, I realized the guy’s hand was in Alex’s back pocket.
Oh, fuck, I did not need to watch this.
I turned away and again tried to concentrate on what I was doing. Not what they were doing behind me. Not on how much I wished it was my hand in Alex’s pocket or my ass under his palm. Not on how badly I wanted to be the one hovering less than an inch away from knowing how Alex kissed.
Someone appeared beside me, and a hand slid around my waist. I missed a step, the combat-trained side of me momentarily thinking someone was getting the drop on me, but I relaxed as I realized he was moving with me. I leaned back into his heat, and he slid his arm all the way around me, flattening his hand on my stomach. Hot breath rushed past my neck, and I decided then and there I loved the way it felt when a man’s hips pressed against my ass.
I covered his hand with mine. Then I decided to get a little braver and reach back to find his hip. Oh, hell. That was sexy. So was the way he growled in my ear. I had no idea what he was saying—my Spanish definitely wasn’t that good—but it sounded hot and dirty.
He ground against my ass, and I realized he was aroused, too. I turned around in his arms and found myself gazing into a pair of utterly stunning eyes. It was hard to tell in the flickering disco lights, but I was pretty sure they were hazel. Maybe even green. His near-black hair was longer than mine, and he wore it well; this was definitely not a man subject to uniform regulations.
His smile was a little asymmetrical, and it made the floor beneath my feet feel a little uneven. Oh my God, he was sexy.
When he ran the tip of his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip… fuuuck.
I didn’t have to think at all about how I moved with him. My body fell into sync with his, and he was so close to me now, he had to have felt the way my heart was thundering. Even if he didn’t feel that, well, there were other dead giveaways that I was into this, and he grinned as he ground against my hard-on.
He said something I didn’t catch. A question, that much I understood; again it was Spanish, and from the way he was grinning, it was filthy and suggestive. Maybe even a little cocky. I realized it could’ve been anything from “are you having a good time?” to “your place or mine?”
And that…
That sent a panicked shiver down my spine, cracking through the heat and the arousal and the alcohol.
I leaned in slightly to the side so he knew I was trying to speak, not kiss him, and he tilted his head to offer his ear.
“Do you speak English?”
He drew back again and shook his head. “?Hablas espanol?”
I shook my head.
He frowned, then shrugged as his grin came back to life. Whatever he said next was fast and flirty, and he punctuated it by sliding his hands up my waist and pulling me in closer. It was probably something to the effect of, “We don’t need to talk—just dance.”
And maybe do more than dance.
Yeah, we could dance. We could even make out a bit, maybe.
But how did we take things further? Because I was still nervous about getting intimate with a man. With anyone, honestly, since I’d only ever been with one person in my entire life.
How were we supposed to communicate? How was I supposed to ask if he’d been tested for STIs or assure him that my own tests were clear? How was I supposed to insist that, no, really—condoms were non-negotiable? Or that I’d never done this before and needed him to take things slow?
Okay, this wasn’t a good idea.
Dancing? Sure. Venturing out into the club scene? Definitely.
Hooking up with this guy or anyone else here who didn’t speak English? Yeah, no. That wasn’t going to fly.
Just dancing, then. I could live with that.
My partner apparently could, too. Either that, or he sensed me subtly backing off, as if I’d unconsciously telegraphed that this wasn’t going anywhere beyond the dancefloor. We danced for another song and a half or so, and then he gave me a little grin and a nod before drifting back into the crowd. No hard feelings.
Not long after him, another man found me. He was probably in his early thirties, same as the other, and he also didn’t speak English. Fine. I wasn’t here to talk.
And apparently Alex was right that I wouldn’t have to dance alone.
As this new guy pressed his back against me and his ass against my hips, I glanced around, sure I was going to find Alex with I told you so across his smug face.
If he’d noticed anyone dancing with me, it probably wasn’t even registering on his radar now. He was with someone else. Someone who had him flush against his chest the way my dance partner was against mine. The man’s hand was partway under Alex’s shirt, pressed against his abs, and Alex tilted his head back and bit his lip as the man’s mouth explored the side of his neck.
Holy. Fuck .
Nothing the man in my arms was doing ignited my senses like watching Alex getting felt up and tasted by someone else.
My dance partner leaned back against me, rubbing his ass over my dick, which was getting hard again. He glanced over his shoulder, grinning hungrily.
He thought that was for him, didn’t he?
He had no idea I was distracted by that gorgeous sandy blond in the red shirt with the other man’s lips on his neck and his jeans tented by an obvious?—
Oh, fuck me.
Alex was hard. He wasn’t obscenely on display, but that bulge drew my gaze and made my mouth water.
Christ. Forget worrying about the language barrier. I wasn’t going to get anywhere with anyone tonight because there was only one man in this place I wanted. And of course, he was the one man in this building I absolutely could not have.
Fuck my life.
* * *
It was almost 0500 when I finally dropped onto my hotel bed. Still dressed, though I had managed to kick off my shoes, I lay there and just… breathed.
My ears still rang from the music and my muscles still ached from dancing, but more than that, my skin still tingled everywhere the men in the club had touched me.
Everywhere I wished Alex had touched me.
Especially outside our hotels where we’d parted ways.
“You had fun tonight, right?” he’d asked, looking almost shy.
“Yeah! Yeah. I had a blast.” I’d exhaled and raked a hand through my sweaty hair. “Fucking tired, though.”
“You and me both.” He’d held my gaze a moment, an unspoken thought pinching his brow, but then he gestured at his hotel. “We should get some sleep.”
“Definitely. Uh. Thanks for bringing me here.” I paused. “Or, well, for ‘running into me at the same club in Sevilla.’”
His tired laugh had lit up the whole street. “Any time. I’ll see you on Monday.”
Monday. Right. Because we’d be heading back separately tomorrow so we didn’t rouse any suspicion if someone we knew saw us.
But no one could see us right then. Had I read too much into the way he held my gaze a beat or two longer than necessary? Or the fact that when I’d told him I was calling it a night, he’d decided to do the same instead of taking his pick of men who clearly wanted him?
Would anyone see us if we stayed in the same room tonight?
Cowardice kicked in, though, and I just murmured, “See you Monday.” Then we’d gone our separate ways, and here I was—alone in my hotel room, still sure I could smell his subtle cologne even over the sweat and booze of the club.
I felt weird that he’d gone back to his room alone. He’d engaged in some seriously hot dancing with some incredibly hot men, but he hadn’t hooked up with anyone?
I closed my eyes and wiped my hand over my face. Just as well, maybe. I wanted him to have a good time, but I wasn’t sure I could stay sane knowing that right this minute, he was getting naked and sweaty with another man. I was already losing my mind from those images of him dancing, every one of which was seared into my brain like a porno.
“Fuck,” I whispered into the stillness.
I wanted that man so damn bad, and now I was hard as a goddamned rock. I’d practically been at half-mast all night, and though I was exhausted, the horniness was not going to relent on its own. Especially now that I was alone and could really let my mind drift back to the club, back to the dancefloor, back to Alex getting felt up and touched and?—
God, why couldn’t it have been my mouth on his neck like that?
The bed creaked as I squirmed, and my dick rubbed uncomfortably against my zipper.
What the hell was I waiting for? I was alone. Alex wouldn’t know. None of our superiors would know. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d jerked off thinking about him.
And it wasn’t like I was going to get any sleep until I did something about this hard-on.
I undid my belt and jeans, and I was almost embarrassed by the groan I released when I closed my fingers around my dick. I doubted anyone heard me—the hotel was dead silent, so everyone was probably asleep—and anyway, whatever, I was too horny to care about anything.
Anything except that mental image of hands sliding all over Alex’s lean body.
Of his lips parting as someone else’s lips skated up the side of his neck.
Of his hips gyrating in time with another man’s, the bulge in his jeans giving away how into it he was, and oh, fuck, the other guy had to be hard in that moment, too. Who wouldn’t be with that ass pressed up against him? I’d have been on the verge of coming if I’d been in his place—hands all over Alex, lips exploring his neck, dick thrusting up against his ass like we were a few layers of clothing away from screwing, and?—
I shouted as my hips bucked off the bed and cum erupted on my hand and stomach. I kept pumping, kept gasping, until there was nothing left and I was this close to too sensitive.
Then I sank back to the bed. Fingers still around my cock. Cum everywhere. Breath coming in deep, sharp gulps.
And Alex Barlow still firmly on my mind.