I couldn’t do it. My head wasn’t in the game. Even if it had been, it was too overwhelming. Too many people, too loud, too many raised voices. The knowledge that Adam knew about Alistair and me, and what Al would do when he found out—and it was a when, because he always found out—had me on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“Go take a break.” Adam pushed me away from the bar.

I should stay, insist I was fine and able to do my job, but I wasn’t and I didn’t. I bolted for the back room, the breakdown in full progress as I ran. By the time I was safely in the deserted back room, the tears streamed freely.

I’m such a failure. I can’t do anything right! And if I went home I’d suffer for it. Suffer for crying, for botching my audition, for being such an emotional wreck… and worst of all, I’d suffer for Adam knowing even if I’d never told him or even hinted at it.

“I’m getting a feeling of deja vú, except we’re inside and it’s not raining.”

I lowered my hands to look up at Wynn. He was blurry because of my tears, but that didn’t take anything away from his appearance. He leant against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, dark gaze on me.

“I’m s-sorry!” I covered my face again, unable to let him look at what a wreck I was. I wished he’d just leave, let me fall apart in private. “I c-can’t do this! This j-j-job—I’m n-not a-any good a-at it!”

He sighed heavily—then walked across the floor and wrapped me up in his strong arms.

I froze, surprised. But he only held me and I succumbed to it, leaning against him, crying against his chest. His grip around me was tight, his head rested on top of mine, and he pushed me up against the lockers.

He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t say anything. He simply held me while I cried and he continued to do so as I slowly calmed down. I’d kept my hands over my face even as I cried on him, but now I slowly lowered them and wrapped my arms around his waist.

My breathing was shaky, but at least the tears and sobs had stopped for now. It was all thanks to him, his calming presence not demanding answers or degrading me.

“There you go.” He took a step back and wiped his hands over my face. “Do you feel a little better now?”

Better? Hardly. But at least I felt like I wasn’t falling apart by the seams anymore. That had to count for something. “Y-yeah.”

He didn’t let go of my face, instead he cupped his palms over my cheeks and leaned in to press a brief, chaste kiss to my lips. They probably tasted salty from my tears, but he didn’t comment. “You’re gonna go home now, Kasey—”

I started shaking my head furiously before he’d even finished. The thought of going home was part of the reason I’d broken down in the first place and I couldn’t.

“Yes, you are.” His thumbs stroked over my cheeks, then he let me go and reached into his pocket. I only closed my eyes, trying not to let the waterworks run lose, until a jingling of keys made me blink them open again. “Here.” He pressed the keys into my hand, folding my fingers over them. “Go home. Take a shower, go to sleep, watch TV, whatever makes you feel good. I’ll take over here and I’ll be home once I close the club.”

My lips parted, but no words came. He wanted me to go back to his place? He was trusting me with his keys? I stared down at them. “What if I rob you?” was all I could think about saying, silently chastising myself for letting something so stupid out.

He chuckled. “Well, I know your name and I know where you work, so…”

I drew in a shaky breath, tightening my grip around the keys. “I don’t mean to be such a bother. I don’t—I’m—”

“It’s okay.” He put both hands on my shoulders, squeezing gently. “Not everyone’s made out for this kind of work. We’ll figure it out, okay? But for now, you go home and I’ll take over for you here.”

I bowed my head, ashamed and grateful all at once.

“This your locker?” Wynn had moved off to the side and opened the door as soon as I nodded. “What happened to your phone?” He frowned down at the cracked screen.

“Dropped it,” I muttered, shame washing over me again. I could never do anything right.

He was in front of me, fingers unbuttoning my shirt deftly. I dared a quick glance up, but he was intent on his task. When it was unbuttoned all the way he slid it down my arms and off, throwing it into my locker before coming back with my T-shirt. It felt weird for him to dress me, but I didn’t object, just lifted my arms. Once my T-shirt and jumper were on, he moved behind me to help me put my jacket on.

“I can dress myself, you know,” I murmured, not sure if I should be embarrassed or grateful he seemed to care enough to help.

“I know.” He wrapped his arms around my shoulders from behind, hugging me close. I leaned into him, turning my head so my nose rubbed against his neck. “Feel at home, okay? Do whatever you want.”

I gazed up at him. “I’ll wait up for you.”

He grinned wryly, reaching up to tilt my head up further. “I’d like that.” He kissed me briefly, then let go and stepped back, reaching into my locker again and handing me my phone. “But I won’t mind if you can’t either.”

I watched him for a moment. His tall, fit body, the tattoos that showed over the hem of his shirt. His black hair, shaved on the sides and longer on top, styled perfectly. His dark eyes, angular face, slight stubble, how his lower lip was plumper than his top. And his ears, with several piercings in each. I wanted to continue watching him; or even better, I wanted to have him stretched out naked under me so I could look at every inch of skin, memorise all his tattoos, make him feel as good as he’d made me feel.

He stepped closer, still with that wry grin. “When I get home tonight.” He pressed his thumb to my lips. “If you’re awake, I’ll rim you so good you won’t be able to even remember your name.”

I swallowed audibly—and blood ran south at the mental images his words brought forth. “I’ll be awake.” Oh, would I ever. I’d never been rimmed before, but I’d seen it in porn, and well… guys who got rimmed seemed to enjoy it immensely.

“Go home.” He pushed me gently backwards, thumb moving from my lips down to caress my jaw. “Don’t worry about this place. Okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed meekly, though the club was the least of my problems.

He gave me another kiss, this one long, drawn-out—then pushed me out into the hallway and gave me a light shove in the direction of the backdoor. He watched me go, and when I was at the door, pushing the handle down, I glanced back. He smiled, a real smile this time, then turned and headed into the club proper.

It wasn’t until I was halfway to his flat that I remembered I’d arranged to have a chat with Adam after work. And my phone was too cracked to write out a message to him. Shit. I hoped Wynn would come up with a good excuse. Or the truth, for that matter. He seemed like the sort of guy who’d tell the truth. And I wouldn’t mind if he did—I was done being someone’s dirty little secret.

* * *

In the end, I didn’t manage to stay awake. I browsed through Wynn’s Netflix—he had a big, flatscreen SmartTV—found Footloose, the original, not the remake, and settled down on the sofa to watch. The sofa was soft, Footloose was familiar, and it lulled me to sleep sometime after the brilliant warehouse dance.

I woke briefly to Wynn scooping me up into his arms. I sighed happily, slung one arm over his shoulder, and dozed back off as he carried me to bed. I didn’t even remember him setting me down again or snuggle up next to me—but when I woke up it was to daylight streaming in the window and a big, hard body spooned to my back.

Speaking of hard… something else hard lay against the small of my back. He was breathing deeply though, so he was clearly still asleep.

I fumbled blindly at the nightstand, found my phone and brought it over to check the time. Except it wasn’t my phone, but his. His screen was all shiny and looked new, not a single crack in it. I shouldn’t snoop on his phone, but I’d already pressed the home button as I grabbed it, and the clock showed up.

Only nine. I yawned, put his phone back on the nightstand, and relaxed back against him. He was warm, arm heavy around my waist, breath warm on my neck. Fuck, but this is how it’s supposed to be like when you’re with someone. This was what I’d dreamt about. Sleeping curled up with someone, waking up spooned together, lazing around in bed, or taking care of morning boners.

Would he like it if I woke him up with a blowjob? I had no idea, so I didn’t dare do it, but that would definitely be hot. And the rim-job he’d promised me… my dick ached at the thought of experiencing that.

I dozed for a while but my bladder eventually made itself known, and I wriggled out of his arms to tip-toe over the floor to the bathroom. I took a piss, washed my hands, and brushed my teeth—with the new toothbrush he’d handed me yesterday. Then I took a proper look at myself in the mirror… and spotted the hickey Adam had pointed out.

Damn. It sure showed. Weird no one else had commented on it. But then I wasn’t friends with any of my other co-workers, so maybe not. I fingered my bruised skin thoughtfully. This had been bruised in pleasure, not by Alistair backhanding me or pushing me into furniture. This truly was a love-bite, as Adam had so nicely called it. I didn’t mind it at all.

I took a quick shower, just to be on the safe side. When he woke… if he still wanted to do what he’d promised me last night, I had to be ready for it.

Once done, I started to tip-toe back into the bedroom again, only to find Wynn on his back and awake. His head turned my way, eyes having a strange pull on me as I walked to the bed. “Morning,” I whispered.

His lips tilted up. “Come here, Kasey. I believe I promised you something last night.”

Oh! He was going to do it. His dick, which I’d felt pressed against my upper arse and lower back earlier, curved nicely upwards, showing off the piercings. The head was flushed red, a drop of pre-come glinting at his slit.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the bed. “Don’t you want it?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yes!” I flushed, but moved eagerly closer. “How do you want me?”

“On your stomach.” He pushed up on his elbows and I stretched out, holding the pillow over my arms and resting my head atop it. “Yeah, exactly like that.” He rolled over to straddle my ankles, then his hands were on my arse cheeks, kneading gently, parting them to reveal my hole.

I didn’t know what to expect, but I tried to relax. I moved my legs a little further apart so he’d have more space, and he rewarded that by running a finger down my crack, rubbing at my hole.

The mattress moved with him as he lay down too and he pulled my arse cheeks apart again. Then his tongue licked over my hole and I forgot to breathe. The fact I buried my face in the pillow didn’t help either, but damn—that was something else.

He licked over my hole again, tongue warm and slicked with spit. I rocked against him lightly, not daring to do it too much in case he didn’t want a face-full of arse, but enough so his tongue pressed harder against my entrance. He took the hint, pushing the tip inside.

I strangled a groan, grabbing onto the sheets for dear life. My dick had started to leak under me, creating a wet spot, but that didn’t matter at all right now as long as he kept his tongue in my arse.

He pushed in and out, alternating with licking up my crack and over my hole, then pushing in again.

My nerve endings were on fire. My dick was ready to blow. I did not know it was possible to come from being rimmed. In porn they did, but in porn they could come from anything. I hadn’t imagined I would be so into having my arse licked, though. But here I was, on the verge of orgasm.

Wynn pulled away, flipped me over as easily as if I weight nothing, pushed my thighs up, and then he dove back in again. I groaned low in my throat, threw one arm over my eyes, and let the other hand find my cock. I stroked myself quickly, so damn close and needing to reach my orgasm now.

Something between a cry and a sob left me as I came, making a right mess of my stomach.

“So it’s safe to say you liked it?” He sat back on his knees, grinning down at me.

I gazed up at him, lips parted. I slowly lowered my legs down on the bed, the muscles protesting a little at being held up and away until now. “You think?” My chest rose and fell quickly. I looked at his dick, it was still hard, still curved upwards, head flushed, pre-come leaking. “Come up here and you can fuck my mouth.”

His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He’d given me a rim-job, I’d let him fuck my mouth. I didn’t think he’d go so far as to stuff my mouth with his dick to the point I nearly choked, like Al liked to do. No, Wynn was a lot more considerate, a lot more in tune with my needs.

He straddled my chest, braced his hands against the wall, and pushed his hips forward. His cock-head nudged my lips and I parted them, sucking it in, the salty pre-come spreading on my tongue. He stopped, letting me suck on only his head. He didn’t start to move again until I loosened my jaw and gazed up at him in silence.

His stomach muscles tensed as he tried to restrain himself, but then he started thrusting forward. He didn’t go too hard and not too far back, but he thrust quickly. Spit mixed with his pre-come trickled from my lower lip, the only way it could go when I was unable to swallow.

He leant further against the wall, bracing his forearms against it, and continued to thrust his hips. At one point he thrust a little too far down my throat, but he pulled back before I could gag and he didn’t do it again.

“Can I come in your mouth?” he asked then, voice deep and hoarse.

I made a sound, but it didn’t sound like either a yes or a no, so instead I gave him a thumbs’ up. And just like that, he came—filling my mouth with thick, sticky sperm. Some of it stuck to his dick as he pulled back and I swallowed the rest, then licked my lips to make sure I got it all. I also wiped spit, pre-come and semen off my chin, as some had trickled there. Then I grabbed his hips, pulled him back in, and sucked the rest of it off his softening cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

He collapsed beside me, sweat beading his temples and over his chest. I ran my hand over his chest, through the smattering of dark, coarse hair and over both his nipples. I kissed the one closest to me before moving up to brush my lips over his stubbly jaw.

“God, I want to kiss you.” But instead of doing just that, he pushed up and off the bed. “I’m gonna brush my teeth first.” He winked as he walked off.

Considering he’d just had his mouth in my arse, brushing his teeth was likely a good idea. Even I was a bit squicky at the thought of kissing after rimming, but that wasn’t to say I didn’t want to try it myself. Wonder if he ever wants to switch places?

He came back out with a damp washcloth that he proceeded to wash off my stomach with. Like the neat freak he was, he walked back to the bathroom with it to deposit it before he finally came back to bed.

But then his lips attached to mine and we rolled over until I was draped over him. And we kissed, and kissed, and kissed. I didn’t ever want to stop. He was the best thing to ever have happened to me—and considering it was only our second day together, that said a lot.