Chapter 15 #2
Zane sidled up next to Ethan, handing him a cocktail. He motioned toward the shameless couple with his chin. Holding up his drink, he said, “Here’s to a night of doing what those two are doing.”
“Cheers.” Ethan took a sip of the cocktail and nearly gagged. Strong and sour, the concoction burned like liquid fire on the way down his throat. “For fuck’s sake, what is this?”
“A Corpse Reviver,” Zane said with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“It tastes like paint thinner.”
“It tastes like exactly what you need to chill the fuck out. You’re stiffer than Pinocchio, and not in the way that’s going to make friends.” Zane leaned closer. “Check it out. Three o’clock.”
As subtly as possible, Ethan glanced to the side. An attractive dark-haired man wearing an unbuttoned sport shirt was ogling Zane, his eyes glazed-over and hungry.
“I’m going in,” Zane said, patting Ethan on the shoulder. “Actually, I hope he’s going in.”
Ethan’s chest tightened. “You’re leaving me already?”
“You’ll be fine. Just relax. And go get some!” Zane said, walking backwards for a few steps, before turning and wrapping his arm around his admirer’s shoulders. The guy lit up, and after a brazen open-mouth kiss, he and Zane disappeared into the crowd.
Ethan hugged his cocktail with both hands and choked down a few more throat-searing sips until the liquor kicked in. Pleasantly buzzed, he settled onto a barstool.
On the stage, the muscle men were taking turns rimming and fingering the younger guy’s ass. Ethan tried to keep his eyes on the men in the crowd, but they kept drifting back to the stage.
I shouldn’t watch them. But the alcohol was obliterating his inhibitions, and before long, his curiosity overpowered his sense of decorum.
He wandered closer to the stage, choosing an area away from the dance floor where the guys weren’t so densely packed.
The young man was on his hands and knees now, being spit-roasted by the larger men, swallowing one cock and fucking himself on the other.
The men moved in slow motion, a scene from a wild, wet dream.
Everything was fuzzed at the edges, and the background buzz of conversation vanished into the insistent, pulsing beat of the music. The weed is kicking in. The thought rose in Ethan’s mind like a bubble gliding through syrup.
He swayed to the music, sipping his cocktail, the liquor burning his throat and warming his belly.
Strong arms snaked around Ethan’s waist. He leaned back, settling against a broad, firm chest. Resting his head on the man’s shoulder, he breathed in the scent of fresh sweat and whiskey.
“You smell good,” he mumbled.
They swayed together while the man’s big, warm hands roamed over Ethan’s chest, leaving tingles in their wake.
“You’re hot,” the mystery man said, leaning in until their lips were almost touching, his stubble tickling Ethan’s cheek. “Want to take this to the back?”
The guy’s hand slipped lower, cupping Ethan’s crotch.
Images flashed through Ethan’s mind. Being pushed up against the sticky wall in the backroom, the darkness filled with grunts and the sound of bodies slapping together.
Breathing in the earthy smell of anal sex.
Gritting his teeth as the guy pushed inside him, relying on the thin layer of lube on the condom, if he even used a condom, and didn’t just spit on his dick and go in bare.
“Oh!” Ethan wiggled out of the man’s arms and stepped away. “Sorry. No thanks.”
The man shrugged, dropping his gaze and adjusting his erection. “That’s cool. Come find me if you change your mind. Just don’t wait too long.” The man made his way into the crowd, looking back once before disappearing from view.
“And I’m done.” There was no way he was finishing this drink.
He needed to hang on to whatever inhibitions he had left.
It would be easy – too easy – to get swept up in the moment and do something he’d regret in the morning.
He couldn’t afford to let his guard down.
He’d done that before and it ended badly.
Returning to the bar, he flagged down a bartender and exchanged his cocktail for a Coke. He parked his butt on an empty stool, choosing to linger in the relative safety of the bar.
The whoops and cheers of the crowd drew Ethan’s attention back to the stage.
He’d missed the scene change. The three men were gone, and a new couple was fucking.
A twink on his hands and knees was getting railed from behind by a bear of a man with serious lumberjack energy.
The guy’s hairy chest glistened with a sheen of sweat.
He had a fascinating tattoo on his bicep – two concentric star outlines, the outer one black, the inner red.
The couple were facing the bar, and Ethan was transfixed by the determined set of the top’s jaw.
The hunger in his eyes. He was giving that twink the ride of his life.
Every time his pelvis slammed into the younger guy’s ass, the lumberjack grunted – a deep, lusty sound that went straight to Ethan’s dick.
He groaned at the stirring in his jeans. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths and willed his cock to behave. But it was no use. He was rock-hard in seconds, and there was no hiding that fact in jeans this snug. He covered his crotch with his shirt tails and spun around to face the bar.
Shame twisted in his gut. He sipped his Coke, chastising himself. Blake was having an innocent night of fun at The Rumpus Room, and he was getting hard to a live porn scene and had been seconds away from hooking up with a stranger.
He and Blake hadn’t been on a lot of dates, but they texted almost every day. Although they hadn’t discussed being exclusive, Ethan was a one-man man. Just being in this place felt like cheating.
He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and fired off a quick message to Blake.
ETHAN
This place is out of control
I’m looking forward to tonight
A few minutes later, Blake responded.
BLAKE
Me 2
Ethan smiled and set his phone on the bar. Feeling eyes on him, he turned and saw a man at the end of the bar watching him. When the guy winked and raised his glass, Ethan averted his gaze. He needed his friend as a buffer against all the horny guys in the club.
Hurry up, Zane.