3. Hayden
3
HAYDEN
“I ’m not so sure about this,” Scott, Lucia’s little brother, said as we stepped out of the rideshare we’d split.
Music pulsed from inside the club like blood through a runner’s veins. The closer we got, the louder the beat got. Soon, the vibrations traveled up my legs from the pavement. The energy grabbed my soul, and my heart synced until it was a part of me.
I smacked him on the shoulder and steered him toward the nightclub.
“Don’t worry. It’s going to be a good night.”
At the door, the bouncer waved me and Scott through, and Scott’s eyes grew wide.
I laughed and said, “I’m a regular.”
Inside, the energy from outside redoubled until it hummed. Sex, need, and lust lived in the beats of the music.
I paused at the top of the stairs leading down into the pit, where the dance floor and main bar were. The smell of hot, sweaty men filled the air, making my dick stiffen and slide down my pant leg.
Crew cuts and high and tights filled the room. The Seaman was the spot to be on the weekends, and every rainbow-colored Devil Dog and sailor in the area crowded through the door. Tonight was no exception.
Men writhed together on the dance floor as close to fucking as they could get without… hmmm… scratch that as I spied two men fucking against a third man who looked on. His eyes, even from a distance, shone with an intensity only matched by the way one hand fisted the hair of the guy in the middle while the other curled around the throat of the other guy.
“Jesus Christ. Are they…”
I chuckled at Scott. His face glowed with embarrassment, even in the darkness that surrounded us. He and I were from the same town near Seattle. Our dads had been best friends since birth. I was closer to Lucia, but Scott wasn’t a bad kid. Just innocent as fuck.
“Yeah, the lucky fuckers.”
“The big guy…”
“An even luckier fucker,” I said, grabbing his arm and pushing him toward the bar in front of me.
“C’mon, I came to get laid, not watch someone else get dicked down.”
I ignored his soft gasp and moved us toward the bar. Then I saw the hottest guy I’d ever laid eyes on. Considering the room I stood in, that was saying something since hot as fuck military guys who spent hours making their bodies look like something out of Men’s Fitness filled the place.
But this guy…
He stood out from the crowd as if he was all alone on a Broadway stage under a spotlight. My eyes wandered over him as I cataloged his attributes.
Tall.
On the muscular side of lanky.
Hotter than a Humvee in J-Bad.
Dark hair.
A chiseled jaw with a just barely-there beard.
And… fuck me, DSL’s that had me imagining them wrapped around my cock.
“Oh yeah. It’s going to be a damn good night.”
Scott stopped dead in front of me and looked at me over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”
I sighed. I knew bringing him would be a wet blanket, but I felt sorry for the kid.
“I mean, I’m going to go talk to that sexy motherfucker over there. While I do that, get yourself a drink and go make nice with all the pretty boys on the dance floor.”
Scott’s face paled, and eyes widened as he glanced around. He looked ready to bolt, but he sucked in a deep breath and nodded before heading off toward the bar.
I tried to cover my interest in the hottie at the bar, but I gave up the pretense when he tilted his drink at me. Since the ruse was up, I locked my gaze with his before letting my eyes drift down his body.
I stepped up to the bar beside him and asked, “So, gorgeous, what are you? A top or a bottom?”
His gorgeous greenish-blue eyes flickered to my face before taking the same stroll mine took down his. He licked his lips, and a dimple deepened on his cheek right above his beard.
As he brought the beer bottle to his mouth, he stopped, stared me right in the eyes, and said, “A pancake ain’t done until it’s been flipped, son.”
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Elvis has left the building. Stick a fork in me, I’m done. Or better yet, his cock.
“I like the way you think,” I said, slipping an arm around his waist, pulling him into me.
Our gazes stayed locked together as heat flared between us. That heat grew into a raging inferno where our bodies touched. A thrill surged through me at the feel of his cock hardening against my leg.
“I’m glad, I’m a lotta things, but I ain’t a home wrecker.”
Confusion pinched my face until I realized he meant Scott. “He and I aren’t a thing.”
“And I should take your word for it?”
“A girlfriend…”
Eyebrows arched, and eyes widened comically so.
“Not that kinda girlfriend. A friend who is a girl.”
An exhale expanded his chest, pushing it into mine and making him fill my arms a bit more.
“I am bisexual, though.”
“Hmm, yeah, limits don’t appeal to me.”
“So you’re pan.”
“If you gotta pick a label, that works best. My motto is, as long as the person consents and has a heartbeat, I’m DTF.”
I smirked. Visions of rolling around in bed with him, spit-roasting him or a woman, made my dick twitch. He rubbed against my hard-on, and I groaned.
“So… back to the cutie you herded in here. Who is he?”
“Babysitting duty.”
“He looks a little old to need a babysitter.”
I followed his gaze to the dance floor and smiled. Two guys I knew to be tops who played together had Scott sandwiched between them. Blissed out was the only way to describe the expression on his face.
I laughed and turned back to the hottie in my arms. “He’s the younger brother of someone in my unit. Scott just transferred to base. His sister got stuck with guard duty and asked me to introduce the kid to the nightlife.”
“Good, let’s drink and dance.”
“I’m all for dancing and drinking, but fucking would be even better.”
He nipped my chin with a laugh. “Don’t worry, big guy. We’ll get there.”
Gripping his throat, I pushed him back so I could look into his eyes. Green halos encircled his blown pupils, and his Adam’s apple dipped as he swallowed. I held him in place as I bent toward him, my mouth hovering over his, our gazes locked.
“I’m vers, but don’t let that confuse you about who’s in charge. I am. Doesn’t matter if I’m fucking, getting fucked, or watching my partner fuck a third. What I say goes. Comprende?”