Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Max
Wait, what did he order again?
My cheeks flush as I stare blankly at the guy in front of me.
He’s kinda hot, if you like that smooth and sultry daddy vibe.
He’s wearing a nice suit with shoes that are so shiny, I can see them in the neon club lights.
Everything about him is ticking all my bi-curious boxes, but there’s something not quite right.
Maybe it’s the way he’s too confident—almost cocky—and that he’s smiling from ear-to-ear.
Again, the smattering of grey hair on his temples screams ‘daddy’, but his general demeanor doesn’t.
“Um, what did you want?” I ask, hoping I don’t come across as an idiot.
With infinite patience, the man sighs. “An old fashioned.”
“Right.” Feigning confidence, I nod. “Totally. But like, an old fashioned what?”
“Fuck me. I’ll get it.”
Rhys grumbles as he reaches in front of me for one of the smaller glasses.
He shakes his head in impatience, but I’m not offended.
I know it might not be the most convenient to have a bartender that doesn’t know any drinks, but I’m learning.
Well, I’m trying to learn. I don’t blame Rhys for not having the time to teach me every single drink known to man on top of everything else he does, and Skylar isn’t necessarily the best teacher.
He’s super sweet—my little man—but he gets… distracted.
“Skylar. Are you going to fucking help?”
Case in point. While Rhys and I—mostly Rhys—are handling the crazy Friday night crowd, Skylar is at the corner of the bar drooling over his boyfriend’s set.
It’s not like it’s anything new. Even before those two got together, Skylar could never focus long enough to finish a drink if Cassius was playing new songs.
I think it’s adorable, Rhys thinks it’s frustrating, but both of us are just happy those two finally figured their shit out.
“Max,” Rhys barks, holding a bottle of brown liquor. “Repeat after me: whiskey, sugar, bitters, water, and an orange peel. Stirred not shaken.”
I blink. “What?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and waves me away. “Go get the girls at the end of the bar. They want vodka sodas.”
“Got it, boss!” I say, saluting him before I turn on my heels, trying to not let my tail dangle between my legs.
I like Rhys a lot. Underneath the grumpy demeanor, he’s a really cool guy.
He’s always real with me, tries to help when he can, and is understanding about my lack of experience.
I want him to like me, so I’ll keep trying my hardest to impress.
Surely there’s something I’m good at here.
With confidence this time, I make the girls’ drinks and happily accept their generous tips.
The only thing I politely decline is the phone number on the napkin they try to slip me.
I’m not dumb. I’m hot as fuck and I work hard to stay that way.
Recently, though, I haven’t been feeling all too horny or sexy.
Well…
“Maxi!”
I shriek and jump a foot in the air. “Jesus fuck, little man!”
“I just needed your attention,” Skylar presses. “Do you think you can do me a little, itty-bitty favor?”
I grin wildly. “Of course! Anything!”
“Could you talk to Davis about Knox’s Halloween thing for me?”
As if summoning the Devil, I gulp when I see him come down the stairs.
He’s never out in the club when there are people here, only on rare occasions when he’s meeting with someone.
As usual, his presence draws me in. I can hear someone ordering a drink, but I’m zeroed in on the one man who’s been running through my mind for weeks.
Davis.
Want to talk about daddy vibes? That’s Davis.
Everything about him screams authority and a firm-fucking-hand.
He’s the only one who’s made me understand the true meaning of the word ‘dashing’.
He’s all sleek with his pristine suits and expensive-ass shoes.
His thick black hair has a bit of grey feathering his temples but it doesn’t make him look old. Distinguished is the word I’d use.
Every time he looks at me, I clam up. When he opens his mouth to speak, I start to sweat.
It’s like some sort of knee-jerk reaction that catches me off-guard with every meeting.
It’s not just because he’s my boss. He’s scary as fuck.
I’m pretty sure he’s killed someone. Or, maybe had Butch do it.
Either way, getting on his bad side is the last thing I want.
Weirdly enough, I think I might be on his good side.
Because we talk. Like a lot. Sometimes he’ll just call me into his office so I can sit there while he works. Other times he’ll give me random errands to run which I’m only fifty percent sure are legal.
And with the way he’s marching through the crowd and headed directly to me, I have a feeling tonight's going to be one of those nights.
“Maximillian,” he starts, drumming his elegant fingers against the bartop. “Stop what you’re doing and come up to my office.”
I look around at how crowded it is and wince. “But Rhys—”
“Can handle it,” he finishes sharply, the scowl on his plump lips growing deeper with every second I’m making him wait. “It’s time for pie.”
My spine straightens and I nod diligently.
He stalks away just as I turn to Rhys and give him a sympathetic shrug.
All he does is roll his eyes as Skylar gives me a thumbs-up.
It’s with a sense of urgency but great reluctance that I hop over the bar and head towards the stairs.
Every step takes me further away from the loud bass of Cassius’s set and towards the cold echo of the upstairs offices.
As usual, it’s intimidating as fuck stepping into Davis’s office.
It’s so cold. There’s literally no life to any of it—super on par for an android—and I wish he would just let me get him a decorative throw pillow, at least. Maybe some wall art, although I don’t think Davis is the type to go for abstract portraits of fruit.
“Sit,” he commands once we’re in. He rounds his desk and sits as well. Picking up whatever he was working on, he focuses on that as he speaks. “You may begin.”
This is always the part that puts me on the spot. I don’t want to say the wrong thing and disappoint him, but I also don’t think I really have a choice? Not with Punisher Butch lurking somewhere, ready to rip my throat out if I cause Davis any inconvenience.
I gulp. “So, I had this like massive ingrown toe nail this morning,” I start, pulling at my fingers.
“Like, bruh, I’m talking about a cat claw.
It was insane. I spent the entire time before my shift trying to pry that thing out of my toe.
I ended up catching the skin, so if I’m limping, you know why. ”
“Mhm,” he hums, not paying me any attention as he goes about his work.
“I almost went to the hospital because I thought to myself ‘Max, my man, you can’t go out this way’.
But then I called Rhys because—you know—he’s the dad of the group, and he told me I was being a dumbass.
” I pout at the memory of his irritated bark over the phone.
“The thing is, I could use some tough love every now and then, so I wasn’t too pissy. ”
“Go on.”
“Ahhh.” I hesitate in a mild panic as I try to come up with something else to say. “Do you think I could rock the booty shorts? I mean, Skylar does it all the time, but he’s adorable. Oh, speaking of Skylar, can we have the club on Halloween night?”
This finally makes him set down his paper.
He raises both thick brows at me but doesn’t look pissed.
I guess that’s a good sign. Usually, his nonverbal cues give me hints on what I should be talking about, so I continue.
“So, basically, Knox wants to do this thing for Elton on Halloween night, but he needs to club. I don’t think you’d have to shut down or anything.
Well, yeah, I guess. Wait, let me look at the text thread again.
” I reach for my phone but realize too late that it’s downstairs behind the bar.
“Well, sugar. Um, so maybe an hour? Two? That’s not too much business, right? ”
“Too much business? On Halloween night?” There’s a clipped edge to his tone, but he still remains impassive, if not a bit curious.
“It’s romantic, isn’t it, though?” I ask, skirting the question. “It’s like the most romantic thing ever, although I think it’s going to be a bit dirty too. Not like you haven’t seen them doing the nasty before. Have you? I bet it’s hot. The bi-curious in me is—”
“Bi-curious?”
“Um, when you’re bisexually curious—”
“I know what it means, Maximilian.” He sighs—deep and agitated—finally getting some emotion out of him. He thinks it through for a second as he fingers the rim of his scotch glass. He takes one more glance at me and, as always, the daddy eyes have me weak.
Yeah, definitely bi-curious.
Finally, he turns to me fully. “Fine.”
My jaw drops. “Fine? As in like fine, fine?”
“Isn’t that what fine means?”
“I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”
“And why is that?”
I deadpan him with a look. “Because you’re you?”
“Careful, Maximilian,” he growls, letting out some personality I haven’t seen before. He stands and plants both of his large hands on the table. He looks so daunting, so… fuck me, sexy. “You’re treading a fine line.”
I gulp at that. “Fine line? What…” I know I shouldn’t ask, but I’m too damn curious. “What happens when I go over that line?”
He licks his lips slowly. Ever so calculating, he rounds his desk with precise steps that have me shaking the closer and closer he becomes.
I suck in a sharp breath when he settles both hands on either side of the chair, leaning down so I can smell his incredible aftershave—like fresh ocean waves—and see that his brown eyes have flecks of gold in them.
“People who tread that line. Well… They’re not good boys.” He trails off as he smirks. “Good boys get punished.”
Instantly hard.
Holy hell… What the actual fuck? I find myself leaning closer to him, trying to catch another whiff, begging for… something I can’t describe. He wants a bad boy? Jesus, I’ll be the baddest boy there is for him.
New kink unlocked.
But before I can say any of that—not that I would—he pushes off me and heads back to his desk. “You can tell Knox he has the club for one hour.”
I’m speechless. What were we talking about? Why does Knox matter?
When Davis sits again, he has a cocky little grin on his lips. I’ve seen more of his personality today than I have in months. He looks so damn pleased with himself. But the smugness is doing something to my already thick cock.
“You can go now,” he tells me, without a care in the world.
I’m too shocked to move. Too turned on to even breathe. Finally, when I get my wits together, it’s with a huge gulp of air and shaky limbs. I run a hand through my hair, my breaths uneven as I leave. I lean on the door once it’s closed, sagging against it, and palm my aching cock.
Yeah, definitely bi-curious