Chapter Four
Blake
“ARE YOU SURE we’re going to get in?” Xander shifts from foot to foot like a spooked-out bunny while we’re standing in line at Skin on Skin to pick up Sawyer’s part of the project on Saturday night.
I didn’t exactly plan on taking him with me. I’m still not ready to explain what exactly is the… thing between Sawyer and me. Not until I figure it out myself. But the second I mentioned where I was going—the fact that it’s free was a big factor—he shot me one puppy-eyed look and I had to agree.
“I’m sure.”
Actually, I’m not, but the bouncer should recognize me by now. Granted, as a freeloader that uses Sawyer’s name to get in every time, but still.
Our turn comes, and before I can open my mouth, Xander puts his hand on his waist, pops his hip, flashes the bouncer a grin, and deadpans, “Hello, Sir. How are you this lovely evening? We’re with the FBI—Federal Bureau of Intercourse—here to talk to Mr. Sawyer Matthews.
Our intelligence tells us he’s been engaging in some dangerous Pussy Destroying activities, and, well, the FBI just can’t let him get away with it. ”
My eyes grow so large they’re about to fall out of their sockets and my blood turns to lava. I shoot Xander a murderous side-eye, not daring to move a muscle. The bouncer takes off his sunglasses, sizes Xander up and down, and then—
What the actual fuck?
He burst out laughing, and without even asking for our names, removes the tape and lets us through.
Xander shoots him a wink, and then—oh my fucking God—he says, “Thank you, citizen Boo. Your cooperation will not go unrewarded.”
Holding my breath, I grab his wrist and drag him inside before the bouncer snaps out of whatever stroke he’s having. Again.
“What the fuck?” I bark through my teeth the second I push open the lead-heavy door.
Xander doesn’t sound remorseful at all. “What? You said he knows you. Besides—” Words get stuck in his throat and he stops moving abruptly as his eyes grow as huge as mine while he was giving his tirade. “Woohoooah.”
I laugh. He’s impossible to stay mad at. “Yeah. This place will do that to you.”
I have to physically drag him to the bar area, his head snapping left and right, taking in the lavish interiors and equally lavish, albeit half-naked, people filling it. “Come on. Don’t make a scene.”
We’re halfway to the bar when I spot Sawyer pouring liquor from an unnaturally tall bottle.
I swallow and do my best to chase away the memories of our roof trip as they start popping up one by one.
It’s not until we reach him that I notice he looks like he’s been hit by a train.
There are dark shadows under his eyes, his hair in disarray, and it seems like he hasn’t shaved for at least two days.
“Welcome,” he says to Xander, who’s still busy ogling the people around.
Only then does Xander notice him. “Hell, man,” he says in a whisper loud enough for everyone around to hear. “How do you get any work done around here?”
Sawyer snickers and leans over the bar top. “I’m not gonna lie. It was hard to zone out the shenanigans at first.”
His tone is casual as ever, but his appearance gives away the fact he probably hasn’t slept in a while. My brows furrow and I’m just about to ask what’s going on, when Sawyer addresses Xander again, ignoring me altogether. “What can I get you?”
Xander scratches the back of his head. “Actually, I’m good. I’ve been trying to cut back on—”
“It’s on the house.”
“Oh. Well, in that case, red wine would be great.”
Sawyer nods, heavy lids falling and rising in a painful-looking blink. “Coming right up,” he says to Xander and walks away to the liquor shelf without giving me a single glance.
“What’s behind all those doors?” Xander whispers in my ear before I can dwell on Sawyer's antics.
“That’s where they keep naked people; tied up and hanging from the ceiling.”
Xander’s eyes grow comically large, and I chuckle. “Relax. It’s pretty much more of the same, only… more intense.”
“More than this?”
“There you go,” Sawyers' voice surprises me and I turn back to the bar. He places a wineglass in front of Xander before sliding what looks like a vodka tonic in my direction.
My heart skips a beat.
“Would it be cool if I,” Xander leans over the bar top and lowers his voice to the failure of a whisper again, “take a look around?”
Sawyer shoots him a wink. “Have at it.”
Xander grins and all but jumps, snatching the wine. “Thanks!” he chirps and before I can tell him not to be too obnoxious, he turns and disappears into the crowd.
“Here,” Sawyer says once Xander’s gone, dropping a thick-looking folder in front of me. “Hope my hard work meets your academic expectations.”
“You look like shit,” I snap before he even finishes talking. Fuck. I didn’t mean for it to sound like an insult.
“Why, thank you. You don’t look half-bad yourself.”
“Sorry,” I mumble and drop my gaze. And then it hits me. “Wait? Did you work last night?”
“That’s how jobs typically work, yes.”
I look at the folder. “So then when did you—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Even though his voice is stern, he doesn’t sound angry. Maybe he’s too tired for that.
I feel as shitty as he looks.
Had I known he really didn’t have the time, I wouldn’t have pushed him. Maybe I would have even offered to do everything myself.
And that realization has my mind spinning
It’s so not like me. I squash my thoughts. “Maybe…” I start as I size up as much of Sawyer as is visible behind the bar. “Maybe I could do something to make you relax.”
And even though his eyes look tired, I can’t miss the spark that flashes in them the second the words leave my mouth.
He tilts his head back and looks at the ceiling, presumably thinking about it, his tongue running along his bottom lip. But then---
“I don’t think so.”
My brows furrow. “Why not?”
“Because.” He puts his palms on the bar and leans in. “I’m at work. And you’re a fucking distraction.”
My cock twitches. It’s not even the words. It’s how he says them.
I shrug one shoulder and pretend it doesn’t affect me. “Fine.” I turn my head back and pretend to look around. “Plenty of fish in the sea tonight. I’m sure I’ll find someone to take me up on my offer.” And without giving him another glance, I walk away.
*
Sawyer
HOW DID I get here?
How is it possible that, in a span of two weeks, the man who’s back I’m staring as he disappears in the crowd stopped being someone I actively try to avoid and start being someone I’m drawn to like a moth to the fucking flame?
It’s my dick doing the thinking. That’s how.
I run my palm over my face, my eyes stinging as I close them.
I shouldn’t follow him.
I should just let it go and let him know I simply don’t have the energy to keep doing this. But even I am not na?ve enough to think I won’t be following him like a dog wherever he wants to go. And the worst part is that sleep depravity has nothing to do with it.
My peripheral catches a small group approaching the bar, and I hastily step back, my eyes scanning for Jesse. I give him an up-nod when our eyes meet and walk over. “Hey, do you mind if I finish early tonight? I have somewhere I gotta be.”
He folds his arms over his chest, expression amused. “That guy’s trouble, you know?”
Shit.
My cheeks heat up but I hold his gaze. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do. Just make sure you don’t sink too deep. It never ends well with customers.”
“He’s not a customer. He’s—” He’s… what? A friend? Not really. A classmate? Barely. “He’s different.”
Jesse takes a second to read something on my face. “I’m sure he is.” The group approaches the bar, and I can sense their eyes drilling holes in our skulls. Jesse jerks his head in the general direction of the room. “Go. But watch out for yourself, will you?”
I bite my lip and give him a nod. “Thanks. I owe you.”
He’s right. He’s absolutely fucking right. But that doesn’t stop me from grabbing the folder Blake left behind and hiding it under the bar, loosening my tie as I step out to the general area and follow the man named Trouble.
Blake doesn’t look surprised when I catch up to him in the corridor between rooms.
I put my hands in my pockets and match my pace to his. “You’re gonna get me fired, you know?”
He’s looking straight ahead, unfazed. “Good. You’ll have more time for me, then.”
I open my mouth, about to snap at him, but bite my tongue at the last second.
There’s no point.
A guy like him will never understand the struggle. But maybe I shouldn’t blame him for that. It’s not his fault I’ve been dealt a shitty hand. And it’s not his fault his father is who he is.
Besides, it’s just sex, after all.
“I’m not sure if you’ll ever get so lucky.”
He takes a big step forward before turning to me and blocking my way, making me crash into him. “Oh, really?”
He takes me by surprise when he reaches down, gropes my crotch, and massages my junk. “You sure about that?”
I sigh. The warmth of his hand on my cock makes it rise to the occasion despite my sorry state.
Damn. Where did the shy guy go? Is the man currently rubbing my cock and biting his lip, looking at me doe-eyed, the same one that stepped into the club, scared, stiff, and out of place? “I have to say, I kind of like this new you.”
He leans in and brings his mouth to my ear. “There’s more where that came from.”
Damn.
I step out of his reach before he can make me lose my composure right here in the hallway, grab his wrist and yank him forward.
“Where are we going?” he pants behind me, struggling to keep up.
“You’ll see.”
I twist our way between patrons, through a hallway, then another, and then another until we reach a room at the end of the club because I know not many people make it this far.
Sure enough, only half of the sofas are occupied, and before Blake can stop and stare, I drag him toward one of the booths lining the wall and draw the heavy curtains the second we make it inside.
“Wait,” he says. “Leave them open.”