3. Richard
THREE
RICHARD
“You were amazing.”
I faked a smile as – shit, what was his name?
He was sure to read into our extended eye contact. Why could I never remember names?
Josh!
“You sure know how to suck a dick, Josh.” I was trying to remind him that this was a one-time thing but he took my blunt compliment a little too well.
He curled his fingers around my muscle tank and attempted to pull me towards him.
“You certainly provided a mouthful.”
When I didn’t budge, he trailed his hand down my stomach and, through my jockstrap, wrapped his fingers around my still-hard cock.
“Text me when you’ve got another load saved up.” He leaned in to whisper, “You can coat my throat any day.”
With a clichéd wink, he was gone. Thankfully.
The porn talk made me horny on the apps or when I was reading erotica, but in-person it always felt a little forced. While Josh did suck pretty good dick – I mean, I blew my load and he took all of it without complaint – he felt like the kind of guy that was going to send me a sappy text in the next ten minutes despite just saying goodbye to one another.
Call me old-fashioned, but a one-night stand should be just that.
No frills. No attachments. Just fucking.
I checked my phone. It was almost time to call my sister.
Almost every Friday night for the last—I quickly did the math—eleven years.
Although it took me three to even kiss another man again. Then a couple more to have sex. Now it was like riding a bike. Fun but performative.
It was my fault that's what it had become, but when you lose your husband before you turn forty, you do what you can to keep going.
My phone vibrated as I ambled to the fridge to grab a seltzer. For a brief second, I thought it was my sister, but no–it was Josh.
SizeKween03: Had a great time.
SizeKween03: My jaw is gonna be sore for a few days.
I wanted to be an asshole, but instead, I just swiped it closed and headed for the couch. Kicking my legs up on the coffee table, I dialed my best friend.
“So what was tonight’s guest of honor's name?”
“No hello or how are you? Just straight to the point.” My sister knew me too well.
“Is there any other way? I’m just cutting to the chase.”
“It was Josh.” There wasn’t a point in lying. We had a whole routine at this point.
“Josh,” she repeated. “He sounds adorable. Like a shih tzu. I bet he’s infatuated with you already but there’s no point because you dismissed him promptly after making your deposit.”
“You make it sound so cozy.” I was not going to tell her he already texted.
“You know me, I’m just envious of your tenacity. It’s gotta take some skill to find someone new every week. There’s only so many gay men in Massachusetts.”
“Oh, there aren’t any new ones left. I’ve moved on to Rhode Island.”
That garnered a laugh from her, so I took the break in conversation to add some whiskey to my glass and turn on the television.
“Plans for the rest of your weekend? It’s your three-day, right?” she asked.
“Yup.” I barely winced as the first of tonight’s whiskey ran down my throat. The familiar burn a comfort.
“Anything interesting happen today?”
I scoffed. “When has the world of managing personal finances ever been interesting?”
“Your career isn’t that bad. It’d be a lot harder for you to pull twinks without your fancy penthouse.”
“They don’t see my penthouse at the club, Holly. They see my-”
“I don’t think I need you to finish that sentence. I can imagine perfectly well what they’re interested in.”
I took another swig and thought about what she asked me. My favorite memory from the day had to be that doe-eyed giant blond twink from the gym with the short spitfire companion. He kept staring at my chest and it gave me good feelings I had promised myself to ignore.
Despite the number of completely fuckable men there, as the gym owner I vowed not to fuck clients.
It was hard – all the time – but I knew it was the sensible thing to do. The last thing I needed was a random harassment lawsuit or some infatuated gym-goer that never left me alone. It was one of the few places I could relax. It’d be a shame to have that ruined.
“You’ve either got something serious to talk about or you lost yourself thinking about something mindless like what color you’re going to choose to rewrap your Audi in next. Which one is it?”
“Just a thing that happened at the gym today.”
“A good thing or a bad thing?”
“Both.” I smirked, finished off my glass, and told her what happened.
“Well, you can let me know how he was next week.”
“That’s not how I run my gym and you know it.” I clicked through the menu and opened Netflix.
“Bullshit! That’s a pretty high concentration of men that you haven’t fucked all under one roof. You don’t have the willpower. You’ll cave eventually.”
“Your faith in my self control is refreshing.”
“Well, it is a little early to start No Nut November.”
I chuckled. “Do I even want to know how you know about that?”
“I’m not some old lady, Dickie.”
She was the only one I let call me that. It was her way of teasing me when we were younger, but it was almost reassuring now.
“There’s a very outspoken gay man at the office,” she continued. “He fills me in on all his adventures.”
I could only imagine.
We settled into a comfortable silence and with my feet up on the ottoman, I let myself relax into the big comfy couch pillows.
“You know with one of these guys, you could always try seeing them a second time? See where it goes.”
This wasn’t the first time she had brought this up. The holidays were months away, but I was already dreading the routine. It was always a hard time to be single.
“I know you pick the youngest, most vapid men to bring home as a defense mechanism. You can’t possibly take them seriously.”
“There isn’t exactly an app for finding love as a forty-nine year-old widower.”
“You’re obviously still physically attractive if your bedroom’s any indication. It should be an attraction on the Freedom Trail at this point. You’re a catch and any man would be lucky to call you theirs.”
I didn’t argue and she let it go, filling me in on her weekend plans and latest work project before saying goodnight.
The Stable was the busiest I had ever seen. Summer weather wasn’t letting go yet and all the colleges started last week, this week, or next, which meant that most of the men here tonight were exactly the type Holly wanted me to avoid. And they weren’t wearing much.
Oh well.
It also meant that it was taking a bit for another drink.
While I debated taking my shirt off, I watched the two overwhelmed men behind the bar, hoping to catch their eye.
Maybe I should take my shirt off?
They were both tall, maybe as tall as me. The bigger of the two was Black, had a finely-trimmed layer of scruff on his jawline, and filled out the tank he was wearing exceptionally well. His biceps were almost as thick as his neck and he knew his shit, tossing bottles into the air for show, making multiple drinks at once. His smile was constant and it was what made me recall that I had seen him before though I couldn’t remember his name.
The other man was white – a boy really if I was comparing him to the other. He was well-built, looked like he had no idea what he was doing and seemed completely my type. He kept darting over to the other bartender, leaning in to presumably ask something. From what I could observe, it seemed he was struggling to make cocktails.
There was a dip in the volume of the music and I heard tall, dark and handsome say, “Stick to beer and soda. If it’s a mixed drink you don’t know, I’ll get them. I’m sorry, kid, but this isn’t a good night for you to learn.”
So he was new. That explained it.
I took a chance and yelled out, “I’m gettin’ a beer!”
It’s not what I wanted, but I was afraid I’d die of thirst before frantic twink figured it out.
As soon as we made eye contact, I recognized him.
Ben. From the gym.
In the dim lights I hadn’t seen it, but it was him.
“It’s you!” Ben smiled. “Welcome to my second night working here.” As he outstretched his arms, gesturing to the bar, his shirt rode up and my eyes were drawn to the visible line of skin at his waist.
I refrained from saying I could tell, moved my gaze back to his, and asked, “How’s it going?” though I already knew the answer.
“It’s kind of a nightmare, but I’m trying. Drake’s been helpful.” He nodded his chin towards his colleague. “Whatever you’re drinking is on me,” he said. “Oh wait, shit, can I do that?”
His innocence made me laugh and I suddenly wanted to figure out an excuse to ignore my self-imposed no fucking gym members rule.
“Can I give him a beer on me?” I heard Ben ask Drake.
“As long as someone’s paying.”
“It’s fine, Ben. It’s a sweet gesture but I got it.” I handed him a twenty. “I’ll take a Corona.”
“With lime?”
“Is that how you take it?” I asked.
“He takes it on his back!”
I turned to see the other gym twink. Maybe Kyle?
“Oh my God, it’s Dick! Dick! ” He pressed his hand into my chest. “You were so kind a few days ago. Ben couldn’t stop talking about it.”
Oh really?
He continued on but my attention was back on Ben. I could see the flush in his cheeks and he was avoiding looking directly at me. When I saw he was grabbing change, I said, “Keep it.”
“It’s really too generous. I can’t.”
“I insist, Ben.” I made my voice a little more commanding, especially when I said his name. He bowed his head a little but looked at me and nodded.
“Thank you.”
“There are other customers, Ben! You can’t just service the handsome ones.”
Drake briskly walked behind him and continued taking orders and making drinks. He must’ve served ten people in the time Ben had spent with me. I only felt slightly bad about it.
“Let me know when you want another,” Ben said. “Good to see you again.”
And then he was back to scrambling around like a drunk ant.
His friend was still next to me though.
“It seemed like he really wanted to service you, didn't he?”
I chuckled. “You’re trouble, aren’t you?”
“I’m definitely something.”
“Do you know what nights he’s working here?”
“I do.” A devilish smile slowly crept onto his face before he said, “But just give him a nice – rebound – fuck.” He poked me in the chest with each word. “That’s all he needs.” He waved his finger in the air. “No strings, no heartbreak.”
That would work for me. “I can do that.”
Kaleb waited a few seconds before saying, “Fridays and Saturdays. Just remember what I said.”
I made a mental note to return the next weekend and spent the rest of the evening building a buzz while I imagined what every inch of Ben’s body looked like sans clothing.