The Djinn’s Wish Waylon #3
When we reached pool three, Brad pulled out a key card and swiped it through the reader.
The door clicked open, revealing a private room with a small pool.
Though it was more of a large hot tub really, and built directly into the floor.
Blue lights illuminated the water from beneath, casting rippling patterns on the ceiling.
“See that jet there?” Brad pointed to one of the outlets along the side of the pool. “Water’s coming out sideways instead of straight, and when you turn it on full blast, it sprays all over the room.”
I set down my tool bag and crouched by the pool’s edge, examining the jet. “Mind if I turn it on?”
“Go ahead,” Brad nodded toward a control panel on the wall. “But you might want to step back.”
I flipped the switch, and sure enough, water shot out at a wild angle, spraying across the tile floor. I quickly turned it off.
“Yeah, definitely something lodged in there,” I said, already rolling up my sleeves. “Might need to drain it partially to get a better look.”
“That’s what I was thinking too,” Brad agreed, moving to help me. “There’s a drain valve behind that panel.”
As we worked side by side, I couldn’t help but notice how efficiently Brad moved, how familiar he was with the system. He wasn’t just some eye candy. He really knew what he was doing.
“So how’d you end up working at the bathhouse?” I asked as we removed the access panel.
Brad’s lips quirked up at one corner. “I came here to fix the sauna. I’d never seen this place before. Michael was impressed and gave me a free night here as a tip.”
“That’s a good tip,” I grinned.
“It was a life changing tip,” Brad smiled back. “By the end of the night, Michael and I were dating and I had a new job.”
“Wait, you’re dating the owner?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise. That certainly wasn’t in any of the bathhouse rumors I’d heard.
Brad nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Going on four months now. Best relationship I’ve ever had.”
“So the rumors about him being some kind of ancient sex demon...?”
Brad laughed, the sound echoing off the tiled walls. “Well, the demon part is accurate. The ancient part? Not so much. He’s only a couple hundred years old.” He said it so casually, like he was discussing the weather instead of confirming he was dating a literal demon.
“Damn,” I whistled. “That’s quite the workplace romance.”
“Tell me about it,” Brad agreed, handing me a wrench. “Michael’s actually pretty normal once you get to know him. He’s a bit of a hedonist though, so a bathhouse made perfect sense for him.”
We worked together to loosen the fixture, our hands occasionally brushing in the confined space. Despite the professional context, I couldn’t help noticing how warm his skin felt against mine. There was something magnetic about Brad that went beyond his obvious good looks.
“Hold this steady,” he instructed, guiding my hand to grip a pipe while he worked on loosening a connection. “So what’s your story? How’d a Southern boy end up fixing pipes in this city?”
“Needed a fresh start,” I said, keeping it simple. “Followed a job opportunity here after trade school. Supernatural clients pay better than regular ones, and this city’s got plenty of them.”
“I hear that,” Brad nodded. “Before I met Michael, I was making half as much working for a big franchise plumbing company that I hated. I’m glad I’m here now.”
As the pipe came loose, a rush of water splashed out, soaking the front of my shirt. “Shit!” I jumped back, but it was too late.
“Sorry about that,” Brad said, though he was clearly fighting a smile. “Should’ve warned you to stand clear.”
I looked down at my drenched shirt clinging to my chest. “Guess I’ll be hitting the locker room sooner than planned.”
Brad’s eyes lingered on my chest for a moment before he cleared his throat and turned back to the pipe. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” He reached into the opening and after a moment of fishing around, pulled out something long and rubbery.
“Is that...?” I started, leaning in for a closer look.
“Yep,” Brad confirmed, holding up what was unmistakably a long tentacle shaped dildo. “How the hell did that get in there?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “And here I thought I’d seen everything.”
“In this place? Not even close.” Brad tossed the dildo off to the side to be thrown out later. “You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve found in these drains.”
As we worked to reassemble the fixture, I found myself enjoying Brad’s company.
There was an easy camaraderie between us, professional respect mixed with the natural chemistry of two gay men who found each other attractive.
Not that I was looking to complicate things, especially not with someone who was taken. And by a demon, no less.
“So you said you’re a regular here?” Brad asked as he tightened the last bolt.
“At least once a week,” I nodded. “Sometimes more if work’s been particularly stressful.”
“I get it. I used to hit the bar a lot. Not a great way to destress, let me tell you.” He stood up, wiping his hands on a rag. “Want to test it out?”
I flipped the switch, and this time the jet sprayed perfectly into the pool. “Looks like we fixed it.”
“Nice work,” Brad said, offering me a high five which I returned, our palms slapping together with a satisfying sound. “Thanks for the assist.”
“No problem. It’s nice working with someone who knows what they’re doing for a change.”
Brad began packing up the tools, his movements efficient and practiced. “You know, Michael’s always looking for good help around here. If you’re interested, I could put in a word. The pay’s excellent.”
“I might just take you up on that,” I said, genuinely intrigued. “I like my job, but I wouldn’t mind better pay or being in the bathhouse everyday. That sounds incredible.”
“Cool. Why don’t you give me your number? I’ll text you next time something comes up.” There was nothing flirtatious in his tone at all. It was just professional courtesy. But my heart still did a little flip when he handed me his phone.
I punched in my number and handed it back. “So, uh, I guess I’ll go get changed and enjoy what’s left of my evening here.”
“Have fun,” Brad smiled knowingly. “Maybe I’ll see you around. When I’m off duty, I still like to make use of the facilities.” He winked, and I felt my cheeks heat slightly.
As I headed back toward the locker room, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to run into Brad here when we were both off the clock.
The thought sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.
But for now, I had other plans. Plans that were nameless and faceless and would help me forget the week I’d had.
Tonight was about release, not connections. And yet, as I stripped off my wet work clothes in the locker room, I found myself hoping I might bump into Brad again before the night was through.
Just as I was putting my phone in the locker, it buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw a text from a number I didn’t recognize.
???: It’s Brad. Thanks again for the help. And, if you get a chance tonight, there’s a private room for you downstairs that’s already booked. The door will only open for you tonight. Consider the surprise inside your “tip” for all the help! Have fun!
A private room downstairs? A door that would only open for me? A surprise inside? That sounded interesting and mysterious. And part of me hoped that surprise was Brad, naked, his ass in the air waiting for my cock.
The thought made my dick harden as I put the last of my clothing into the locker and turned the key.
It sounded like my night was going to be one to remember.
But I didn’t want to rush to my surprise first. Right now all I wanted to do was shower and get back into the bathhouse to have some fun with all those shifters.
I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed for the open showers on the far side, my mind buzzing with curiosity about this mysterious private room. But first things first, I needed to wash away the day’s grime.
The shower area was crowded with naked men of all varieties. Werewolves with soaked fur. A few vampires, pale and perfect. Even a couple fae folk with their ethereal beauty. And plenty of regular humans like me, all of us united by one thing, the desire for connection without names or complication.
I found an empty showerhead and stepped under the hot spray, letting it cascade over my tired muscles. The water pressure was perfect, which was no surprise given that Brad was in charge of maintenance. I closed my eyes and tilted my face up, feeling the day’s tension begin to melt away.
“Need someone to wash your back?” a deep voice rumbled beside me.
I opened my eyes to find a muscular werewolf grinning at me, his amber eyes gleaming with interest. He was incredibly muscular, his wet gray fur clinging to his body in a way that highlighted every ridge and curve.
“I wouldn’t say no to that,” I replied with a smile.
He stepped closer, his large hands reaching for the soap. I turned, presenting my back to him, and his strong fingers began working the lather across my shoulders and down my spine. His touch was firm but gentle, massaging as much as washing.
“You’re carrying a lot of tension,” he observed, his thumbs pressing into a knot between my shoulder blades.
I groaned as the muscle released. “Long week of fixing other people’s messes.”
“I know what you need,” he murmured, his hands sliding lower, soap-slick palms cupping my ass.
I braced my hands against the tile wall as his fingers explored further, one thick digit pressing against my entrance. Around us, similar scenes were playing out. There were men washing, touching, kissing under the warm spray. The steam carried moans and whispers, creating a symphony of pleasure.