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The guy currently staring across the club at me – Gripp was his name – was well known for all the wrong reasons; drugs, violence, theft...a right regular one-man army who seemingly had no fear of the consequences when it came to his actions. I didn’t know much about him, had only heard vague rumours, how much of them true, I could only guess. I had a faint feeling Sophie likely knew who he was. All I saw when I looked at him was a criminal; a petty drug dealer wrapped up in an attractive, tattooed package who’d probably be good for a quick fuck or two if he was that way inclined. Nothing screamed loyalty or stability or anything really. Just a real good dirty fuck. He was some serious eye candy in that bad boy, couldn’t give a shit kind of way. A treat them mean, keep them keen kind of bloke, I’d bet. And those I didn’t entertain, they were too much trouble for a man like me.

From what I could see though, he was on his best behaviour, no drug peddling in my dad’s club. What really had me grinding my teeth was the twat three booths over who wouldn’t take his eyes off Sophie, whether he was doing it to rattle me or her, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was the guy was going to end up with a sore fucking face if he wasn’t careful. The debate was – who’d land the first punch? I could see Jake’s hard jaw clench as his eyes flicked from the skeevy son-of-a-bitch to me, thinking the same thing. If he didn’t look elsewhere real soon, I was making a move to get his arse thrown out.

There was eyeing someone up because you liked the look of them, then there was leering. This guy was leering, and I found it disgusting, his blatant fuck me looks pissed me off.

Sophie climbed into the booth and my interest went back to her. Jake had tagged Suzie from one of our classes a few hours earlier, someone he’d hooked up with before. She was easy on the eye and from what I could remember, he liked the way she sucked his cock. The invitation to join them would come up later but I wasn’t out to score. Double tagging Jake’s conquests never had any appeal in the first place, my hands and mouth always ending up on him, my dick not far behind once a woman left. Not many women liked not being the centre of attention, no matter what they said. We hadn’t done it in a while, this being my first night out in ages. Getting off in a threesome wasn’t on my radar, I just wanted to enjoy a drink with my best friends.

Not being a club kind of guy, I was surprised Sophie had managed to goad me into it, the woman was hard to say no to.

We’d first met in Social Sciences class about a year ago when Jake and I had first moved down here for Uni. We’d ended up sitting together and the rest, as they say, is history. She’d been friendly, not pushy, and I loved the easy-going connection we shared. Neither one of us went into the nitty gritty about each other’s lives but we knew enough. Sophie had a rougher deal than I did for sure, but she never let anything hold her down. My hang ups were far less complex and involved only one person – my mother – yeah, I had ‘mummy issues.’ In contrast, it seemed Sophie lived in perpetual darkness and not much opportunity to escape her shit show of a life, yet she was a breath of fresh air.

Don’t get me wrong – I didn’t feel an ounce of pity for the little twinkle-toed spitfire sitting next to me, she probably had bigger balls than I did. She’d said many a time she enjoyed the nature of our friendship too and had lamented more than once we were stuck with her whether we liked it or not. No hardship on my end. For the past few months something had cemented a bond between Sophie and me and not a day went by we didn’t talk to one another, in person or over the phone, it didn’t matter. To say I loved this girl was putting it mildly.

I couldn’t bear the thought of being so far away from my dad, and Jake had nothing keeping him up North, he had those mummy issues too, so down we came. Best move my dad ever made, of course we were following him, being joined at the hip there was nowhere else we wanted to be. Jake and I normally spent the week in Brighton, then made a run for the country most weekends where the pace was quieter and the company better. Sophie had become an easy addition to our lives and often came with us, enjoying getting out of the city, enjoying a few days relief from her reality. She’d met most of my ever-growing family and I think she needed some of that in her life. Family.

So yeah, Jake was up for a night out, Sophie had demanded, and the mention of my dad’s club, which she didn’t know, kind of sealed the deal. I felt safe enough sitting getting shit faced while sober people I knew worked around me. Nothing would happen to me here. The thought of getting the shit kicked out of me for my sexual preferences always played heavy on my mind, it had happened on more than one occasion, and I was always wary getting drunk in a place full of people I didn’t know. I could hold my own, but never liked waking up with a hangover the next day and a sore jaw. And I refused to hide who I was, there was nothing wrong with being gay and fuck anyone who thought there was.

“He doesn’t bite you know,” Sophie laughed as she came into my vision. Shit. I hadn’t realised I’d been gawping so hard at the tough guy, Gripp.

“He won’t?” I asked sarcastically, rolling my eyes at her.

“Nah.” She took a drink of what looked like a coke and something. “He’s a pussy cat really.”

Snorting, the beer fuzzed up my nose. Somehow, I doubted it, Lion more like, with a big fucking bite. “Right...I take it you know him, then?”

“Yes. Just don’t kiss me,” she winked.

“Unless you grew a dick overnight,” I eyeballed her sideways, “not a chance!”

She expressed her amusement with a snort, then regarded me, seriousness settling over her features. “Anyone on your radar?”

I shook my head and gulped down the almost flat beer, the thought of hooking up with someone the farthest thing from my mind. “What’s the point?” I shrugged and glanced away, my observation straying back to the other side of the club. He would have been right up my alley some months ago, but now...I just couldn’t be bothered. What had me running scared was a mystery. Maybe the man himself. Maybe my own insecurities. Who knew? I sure as fuck didn’t.

She patted my hand like a mother hen. “You have to try some time, you know.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “just not tonight. Not ready for that complication, Sophie.”

She took another drink from her glass then looked me square in the face, swiping under her eyes as she leaned into my neck, wiping tears that hadn’t quite fallen yet for some unknown reason. “You’re my friend, right?” she mumbled.

I squeezed a hand around her waist, “Hey. Of course, always. The best, Sophie.”

Meaning the words, I hoped she knew it. Jake aside, somehow Sophie felt like fate, like we were meant to be this to each other, to be the very best of friends. She’d become important to me in such a short space of time and I didn’t get why she needed to ask. Where her insecurities came from. I heard her breath release against my neck and felt her body sag against mine before quickly moving away. Reaching for her hand in her lap, entwining our fingers, I made sure she understood me. “Always, Sophie.”

Clenching our hand together, she beamed up at me. “Thank you, Ayden. Thank you.”

A few hours ticked by, we sat gossiping and laughing at Jake getting plastered with Suzie not too far behind, she wasn’t helping the cause. Jake was a funny fucker when he was pissed, not particularly caring what anyone else thought of him, he was just Jake. I stole another few glances over at Gripp’s table through the course of the night, when the crowd was thin enough to see. Each time unnerved me yet excited me more. I found myself frowning more than once at the way his steely inspection held me captive each time we connected. His look sparked hot and on the tip of exciting within my lower belly. I chased it away, not sure what frightened me; the spark or the stare. Ignoring it, I made a conscious effort to keep my eyes away from that side of the room, there was plenty eye candy to occupy me elsewhere.

The club started winding down early. With a full late licence, Friday was the only night that under 21’s were allowed in, so my dad and uncle didn’t keep it open full hours. 1 a.m. was cut off time. We were aged to come all hours, just happened to be Friday, the earlier closing suiting me fine.

I tapped Sophie on the shoulder to grab her attention from a giggling Suzie who was yelling into her ear. “I’m heading to the john, be back in a few. Don’t move.”

She waved a hand in dismissal as I got up and mooched my way down the hallway, a decent buzz going on as I passed people collecting coats and beginning to leave. It was quieter through the back and I was thankful for it, I could at least hear myself think after being assaulted with banging music for hours. Before I made a move into the men’s room my uncle called out to me as he grabbed my arm.

“Half an hour and I’m good to go,” he smiled at me, “just need to cash out, all right?”

“We’re grabbing a taxi, ready to leave now.”

“You sure? It’s no problem.”

“Honestly, it’s cool. We’re out in five. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I pushed the door inward, disappearing into the bathroom.

Finishing up a few minutes later, I washed my hands at the sink, about jumping a mile in the air, splashing water right down the front of my t-shirt, when the door swung wide. “Fuck!”

Shaking out my hands, I reached for the paper towels to the side of me, pissed off I was half soaked.

“Yo, sorry dude, my bad!” came a voice that snaked its way down my back making me all kinds of nervous and excited in equal parts. Turning, I stared into the face of the notorious Gripp.

I’m not a coward by any means but considering his face, seeing that mark on his cheek, it reminded me of exactly who he was and how dangerous he could potentially be. That in itself was a thing to maybe worry about, especially being alone in the men’s room.

Yeah, consider me intimidated.

“Hey, man. How you doing?”

Doing a double take, I was surprised at the lazy lilt to his voice when he spoke, he sounded high, or maybe drunk. Gripp chuckled, his hazel eyes shone as the lines at the side became more pronounced, the blue tinged tattoo on his cheek menacing, sending another shiver down my spine. Not nerves tingling this time as I stood there like a dumb prick, hoping and praying my cock was gonna fucking behave itself. This guy lit up my bells with a single look, alarming or not, one that could easily bring me to my knees if I saw it enough.

Twisting away, I stretched for the towels again to dry my still wet hands, trying to get my shit together so I didn’t embarrass myself when I turned back around. When I did move, he was right in front of me, surprising me for a second. Off balance and nervy, I tried to skirt around him. His success at grabbing for my hand and shaking it in greeting had me confused. Again, caught off guard, I tried to snatch my hand away.

“Uh, yeah...” I stumbled the words out, “great.  You?” I asked, looking down in bewilderment at our clasped hands.

Gripp glanced down at the same time, a sheepish expression on his face and quickly let go, bringing his hand up to wipe at the back of his neck, those tattooed fingers digging into his flesh.

Was he fucking nervous?

No, he couldn’t be, why would he? I was a big guy, sometimes intimidating, but so was he, and considering his bad boy reputation, nerves should have been the last thing he had around me. The dude wasn’t rumoured to get ruffled by anything. Or anyone.

“I saw you come in.” His deep voice resounded through the small space, like a tenor bass, music to my ears. I waited for him to continue his line, aware I was standing gawping, more out of disbelief than a drooling state, unsure of his intentions. “I wanted a word...” he trailed off.

My guard went up, and I took a step back, putting distance between us as I tried to figure him out. My hands dropped the paper towels at my feet and I rammed my fists into the front pockets of my jeans. He must have seen the alarm on my face as he scrutinised me.

“Fuck...” he shook his head, “...no, no, no. Not like that!” Laughing, he held his hands in the air, as if in surrender. “I saw you.”

Annoyed that he found the moment amusing, I tamped down my irritation, shaking my nerves loose. “Ah, okay,” I said, not sure what he was saying.

Never the less, I relaxed, and my hands slackened in my pockets a fraction. Gripp leaned back against the sink with his arms folded across his chest, not exactly stand-offish but not accommodating either. Only then did I notice how intricate his tattooed sleeves were under the harsh light of the men’s room. Mostly swirls of greys and blacks that looked haphazard at first glance, but complex on a closer look. Some were hard to see clearly, I thought wryly that was the whole point, there wasn’t one particular feature I could make out, I didn’t even try, eventually fixing my gaze to the wall behind him. Eye contact seemed dangerous considering what I was thinking about.

“Listen, that cute blonde? She doesn’t need anyone messing around with her, she’s been through enough as it is.” He coughed into his hand before continuing. “If you’re looking for anything beyond friends, I suggest you run along and look elsewhere. She doesn’t need her head filled full of shit.”

Who the fuck was this guy?

I was surprised at the politeness of the thinly veiled threat he’d just thrown my way but took it on board. He was a man you listened to. I’d be an idiot to ignore. I understood him all right and his little speech set me further at ease with him. He was just being an over protective friend and not the big scary dude he looked like. I couldn’t decide which the worst end to be on was. For some reason I found myself opening my mouth and telling him the very thing that could possibly get me a busted nose, at the least.

“I’m gay,” I blurted out, a shade embarrassed at my confession hoping he saw it for the peace offering it was in terms of Sophie. I loved the girl, and yeah, we had a great friendship. Still, I didn’t know if I should tell him how close we were in case he took it the wrong way.

“Really?” He angled his head sideways and looked at me with narrowed eyes, a slight smirk tugging at his mouth.

Nodding, I wondered if I’d just made a monumental mistake by revealing I preferred relationships with men. Groaning to myself, I thumped my head back against the wall. It was clear the circles he ran in, how far in I really had no idea, but it kind of scared the shit out of me. I knew these types of guys didn’t mess around, piss them off and they came at you hard.

He scrubbed his hand down his face and breathed ‘okay’ on a long sigh, a sigh that cried relief, yet held a flash of disappointment too. For whatever reason, I didn’t care enough to find out. He was Gripp I was me. Our circles didn’t entwine or mesh.

“Anyway, I was watching you.” He squinted at the mirror to the side of us. “If you can find it in yourself to see past all this shit.”

I scanned his body as he waved his hand in front of himself and I took the ‘shit’ to mean the myriad of tattoos I’d ogled earlier and seemed to cover him. Studs adorned his hard-edged face, the little scruff of stubble across his upper lip and the triangle in the cleft of his chin told me he cared about his appearance. I very much liked what I saw, he didn’t look like shit to me. And he smelled so fucking good, too. I knew the rumours, they mattered more than the swirls of ink he chose to tell his stories with or hide behind. I kept those thoughts to myself, no matter how he stood in front of me, he was still a stranger, an unknown. One I couldn’t afford to get on the wrong side of.

“Good folks are hard to come by and I get the impression you’re good folks.” When he threw a mischievous smile my way, his whole face lit up, and I threatened to dissolve into a puddle of mush at his feet.

He was gorgeous. Gripp, the infamous gang banger, was mouth-watering. Shuffling his feet in front of him, he looked to the tiled floor while I kept my eyes peeled to his face, bemused at the turn in conversation.

“It doesn’t bother you?” I finally asked.

His eyes snapped to mine, and I was caught again by their colour, hazel with the tint of green, flecks of subtle gold around the edges of his irises. I internally reeled back, winded from the breath he’d stolen from me.

“You being gay? No. Should it?” Another full-on smile, cheekier this time.

I hesitated at his comment, shaking my head. Gang boys were notorious homophobes around here, yet he seemed...different. “No, I guess not.”

Moving towards me, I found my back pressed further into the wall as he stood inches from my face, engulfing me in his smell; a hint of sandal wood and warm beer wafting up my nose. I was still edgy, my fingers curled in my pocket, but the closeness of him was easy - right.

Gripp bent forward and tucked an arm around my waist, alarming me. My body drew rigid until I realised he was fishing my phone out of my back pocket, the threat from a second before, subsiding quickly. Squeezing my eyes shut, I inhaled slowly as his soft hair brushed along the side of my face. My dick decided that was the moment to say hello and stirred impatiently in my jeans, unaware this man was very off limits. I panicked at the thought of him leaning further into me and feeling the erection I was sporting for his pleasure only. Boy, he’d get something he hadn’t quite bargained for when he’d walked in, and I figured it would not be a good scenario to find myself in. Yet, I foolishly snuck in closer, sniffed again and drank in his scent with delight.

I swear, I felt his long fingers grace the top of my jeans along the underside of my t-shirt, my skin sizzling from his brief touch. The moan that climbed up my throat tumbled out on a sigh.

Shit, I was in so much fucking trouble.

I didn’t do this; I never acted this way around guys. Ever. Society had made it so I tempered my reactions in the locker rooms and on sports fields. I took it home and wanked off to good old-fashioned porn behind closed doors, not get erections in the men’s room of my dad’s club over a little skin contact.

Fuck my life, I was so fucking mortified!

Standing stock still, not quite touching yet not quite moving away either, my heart double thudded in my chest with anticipation of his next course of action. His head dipped further, a sign he was looking down at my phone to the side of us. I daren’t have moved a muscle, almost holding my breath, whilst willing my rock-hard dick to just go the fuck away. I really wanted to leave in one piece and go hide in a corner in disgrace, he was the last person on this earth I wanted to be having a goddamned hard on for.

Gripp slid my phone back into my pocket but didn’t move away immediately. No, those long, warm fingers fastened at my waist as he raised his head and faced me.

I was a goner; a quivering mess of need and confusion, there was no hope left for me or my deceitful cock.

“My number....” he smirked at me as his hold tightened.

My heart was ready to burst at any moment, he had me wound so tight. A spark of something tingled in my balls, and I just wanted the ground to open and swallow me whole. This man was making me crazy, my body firing in every direction.

Jesus Christ, what the fuck?

The next thing I knew, he had me plastered firmly to the wall, no space between us, his inked hand tugged my neck forward as he pushed his body into mine. I didn’t believe what he was doing until incredibly soft lips ghosted over my own, the cold of his flesh in contrast to the heat of his breath. I toyed with the idea of peeking my tongue out for one little taste. I was so greedy in that moment; wanting to devour his mouth, feast on it, even if it was just this once. I didn’t move, hardly breathed, fearing he’d step away from me. Fearing he was making a joke at my expense. That this was all a lie. A made-up dream I was having.

“Gay, huh?” Gripp grinned at me and I audibly whimpered before smacking my head back again, my eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah.”

Stroking down my jaw, his finger nail scratched at the scruff on my chin, then along my bottom lip. I savoured it. Revelled in the type of attention I’d always craved, man on man. When he crushed his erection against mine, my eyes snapped open, locking onto his hooded gaze. He wasn’t playing around, undeniable desire pooled under his heavy lids. My insides did a jig at the images I’d conjured of having those intense hazel hued eyes peering up at me while he wrapped his lips around my cock. Man, what would that ball of metal feel like rubbing up and down me? Saliva pooled in my mouth so bad I was afraid I’d drool down my chin.

“Nice.”

Moving his other hand from my hip to the front of my jeans, he rasped his nail up and down the zipper slowly, the vibration pleasurable against my hard on. I was stunned, couldn’t find any words, too lost in the marvel of Gripp touching me as brazenly as he was. The sensation felt so fucking good and he didn’t even have his hand wrapped around me. I let out a long, ragged sigh, thinking I’d died and gone to heaven. His hand was now cupping me, fingers squeezing around the bulge in my jeans, rooting me to the spot, having no desire to move. A soft nip at the tip of my nose brought me back to the moment, the tenderness of his one action belied the man standing in front of me with his hand curled around my dick, albeit with a layer of denim between us. He stared at me with such an intensity, like he was looking into the very depths of my soul.

Sophie was right; he was a pussy cat.

Then he laughed, he fucking laughed, and my heart plummeted to my stomach at the sound. I strained to get hold of myself long enough to regain my composure, I moved away. Lightning fast.

Had I read him wrong? Was he playing me?

Holding me tighter, as if he sensed my need to flee, Gripp moved his mouth to my ear, a stiff tongue playfully darting at my lobe as he rotated his hips in a circular motion, grinding against me.

Nope, not reading him wrong then.

“Feel that?” he whispered as he shoved against me, over and over, twisting his waist so he dragged his length over mine.

Oh yeah, I could feel that all right.

“Yes.” The singular word caught in my throat, barely perceptible.

“That’s all for you.”

Sucking the fat flesh of my ear into his mouth, delft fingers moved to fiddle with my zip. Only when I felt his knuckles brushing against me did I remember I was going commando and thanked the Lord for such small mercies. The skin to skin contact almost made my knees give out, so much so that I grabbed at his waist and tethered myself to him, keeping upright. His growl was low and long, rumbling from his chest, vibrating against mine.

“Ayden,” he whispered, wrapping his fingers around my steely erection, giving it two sharp tugs. “Ayden,” he moaned again in my ear before removing his hand and stepping away.

What in the actual fuck....no!!

Bereft, I almost begged him to come right back and continue. He unashamedly adjusted his own hard on as I watched mesmerised, smiling when I realised the effect I had on him too. He wasn’t lacking in the dick department judging by the protrusion at the front of his jeans and my mouth flooded with moisture at the thought of sucking him off. Hurriedly, I pulled my zipper up, never wavering with the eye contact, not daring to call his bluff.

“You call me,” he commanded while reaching for the bathroom door, never looking back at me, “or text, whatever. I’ll be waiting.” I didn’t doubt it for a second.

Then he was gone, leaving me with a serious case of blue balls and grinning like a fucking fool in the men’s room of my dad’s club. The imprint of his fingers wrapped around my cock, a memory etched in my head.

Well hell....

Still standing in a bit of a stupor, I jumped in fright when the door crashed open again, bringing me back down to earth with a bang. Gripp rushed me into the wall a second time, chest to chest, his hands either side of my head and then crashed his lips over mine before I could even blink. Harsh, demanding...needy. His tongue flicked with pulsing action in my mouth as I tangled for control, greedy for more.

Pulling away, he pointed to the front of my jeans. “Don’t you fucking touch that!” His growling demand was full of fire and threat.

The door swung back open and Gripp was gone again, leaving me panting and the room spinning, wondering what the fuck just happened. Had the notorious bad boy, Gripp, just come on to me?

Yeah. Yeah, I think he did.