Chapter Four
THIS IS A HUGE MISTAKE.
Scott wandered along the edge of the dance floor, watching the young, exuberant crowd, mostly college kids trickling home for the summer from wherever they’d been off going to school. No one was paying any attention to Scott, and for somebody used to being the center of attention, it felt a little surreal.
He completed his second circuit of the room and made his way to the bar, where he perched on an empty stool. Even though his facial bruises and swelling had long since healed, it hadn’t been a good idea to come out tonight, not when he couldn’t do anything but give tight, closemouthed smiles, or speak in the muffled voice some people had a hard time understanding. Add in his dumpy, loose clothes, and Scott felt…ordinary, practically invisible.
He didn’t like it one bit.
“Hey, man.” Bobby, the bartender, slid him a frosty mug of beer without being asked. “Good to see you back.”
Scott accepted the mug with a nod of thanks. “Good to be back,” he lied, and Bobby propped his elbows on the counter with a companionable air.
“You’ve really been missed,” he confided, “although Pete’s turned out to be a fantastic host. Nobody thought he could do it, but he’s been packin’ the house every weekend.”
Scott didn’t quite know what to say to that. So I’m replaceable. Great?
“Whoops, gotta go.” Some customers down the bar were waving for Bobby’s attention, and he threw Scott a quick good-bye salute before hurrying off to serve them.
Scott picked up his beer and immediately put it down again. The last thing he wanted to do was wear it down his front, which is what would happen if he tried to drink it without a straw, and no way was he gonna sit here slurping beer like a child with a sippy cup.
He shoved the beer away, spinning around on the stool to stare moodily out at the dance floor, a sudden frisson of unease slithering down his spine. Was the asshole who assaulted him here somewhere? Was he watching Scott right now, savoring the memory of the moment he had struck him down? Had he said something right before he did it, something Scott heard but didn’t remember?
Those macabre thoughts drove Scott from his perch, and he wandered restlessly around the crowded, chaotic room, searching people’s faces, checking to see if anyone was looking at him funny. He gave a disgusted snort. Paranoid much? It was just another thing to be fucking bitter about, that the place he’d come to consider home, his safe place, now felt like anything but.
Somebody brushed against him from behind, and Scott whirled around, fists raised.
“Whoa, dude, sorry,” a kid exclaimed, putting his hands up and backing away. “Crowd is insane. Didn’t mean to bump you.”
Scott lowered his own hands, the humiliation now swirling through him adding to the anxiety that was making his heart pound, his jaw throb. He took deep breaths as best he could through his nose, wishing he could open his mouth and take in the deep pulls of oxygen he so desperately needed.
Can’t. Breathe.
Panic started to claw at him. If someone attacked him right now, he wouldn’t be able to fight back. He couldn’t take in enough air, and the weeks-long lack of solid food made him weak. He was so exposed…
Lights started to flash at the edge of Scott’s vision, and he looked around wildly, needing an escape route…needing a weapon…needing—
“Hey, baby. You okay?”
Teena’s concerned face swam into view, and he focused on it with the desperation of a drowning man. “No,” he gasped out. “No.”
She took his arm and drew him through the crowd, navigating expertly until they reached the short hallway where the employee entrance was. Scott collapsed against the wall and buried his face in shaky hands.
“Breathe with me, love,” Teena crooned. “In, out. In, out. You’re safe. You’re safe, darlin’.”
The soothing words and the oxygen helped calm his racing heart, and the anxiety roiling through him started to recede, leaving his body numb. He turned into Teena’s arms, and she wrapped him up, holding him close.
“Been a while since you’ve had one of those,” she whispered against his hair. “Seen enough of ’em to know the signs, but—”
“Fuck,” Scott choked. “Fuck.” He clutched at her until he felt a measure of control return and let go, noticing with chagrin that her sequined bodysuit was now crumpled, her wig askew, makeup smudged. “I’m sorry, Teena.” He started to straighten her wig, and she grabbed his hands.
“You know me better’n to think I give a flyin’ fuck about that. You okay? That’s all I care about right now.”
He nodded and slumped against the wall again. “Thanks,” he rasped. “I think it was too much, coming back tonight. When I’m not one hundred percent myself.”
“Right. When you don’t have your armor on. I get it, baby.”
Scott blew out a breath. “I think I just need to find Rylan and tell him I’m going home. You seen him?”
“Yep. Taking pictures of a straight girl’s bachelorette party up in VIP. It’s all the rage, you know, to have your hen party at the gay club.”
Scott was grateful for the distraction the image provided him, and he chuckled. “You queens love it, though,” he teased. “You get to call ’em bitches and cunts all you want, and they adore you for it.”
“Amen, sister. Amen.”
They hugged again, and Teena swished off to the dressing room to make the necessary repairs to her appearance. Scott went up the back stairs to VIP, looking for Rylan. The party was in full swing, the twenty or so guests in varying stages of inebriation ranging from tipsy to staggeringly drunk. He was amused to see the bride-to-be was in the latter category, and he made a mental note to ask Danny to pass along his world-famous hangover cure to anyone sober enough to remember it later.
Rylan was nowhere in sight, though, and Scott was about to go brave the downstairs again when a curvy girl with a cute smile appeared next to him and took his arm.
“Hey, what’s with the resting bitch face? Huh?” She peered up at him.
Scott quirked his lips at her. “Just thinkin’ deep thoughts, darlin’,” he drawled as best he could with his muffled voice, but she didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, inching closer.
“Ooh, I love deep thoughts,” she giggled. “Love them. ’Cause right now I’m thinking—balls deep.” She bit her lip as she scanned up and down his body. “You are just too sexy for my panties. I think they might have to come off.”
He blinked, and she gave him a saucy grin. “Too forward? I don’t care. I’m on vacation!” She tossed her long, dark hair. “I refuse to go back to boring, old Ohio without a hot memory and a sore pussy. Refuse!”
Arousal tingled pleasantly through Scott, chasing away the last lingering tendrils of anxiety. “And you think I can provide both, then, do you?” he murmured, sliding his arm around her waist, reveling in the flattery coursing through him at her boozy admiration.
“Oh, I know you can. You’re sex on legs. Sex.” She hiccupped. “We have a limo. Big cushy backseat, perfect for—deep thinking.” Her breasts were soft and warm against his ribs, and her lips were plump and pink. They’d look so hot wrapped around his—
Scott was tempted. Oh, how he was tempted. He hadn’t had sex in weeks, not even a blowjob, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d subjected himself to such a drought. Jacking off in the shower wasn’t cutting it, and after begging Rylan for that selfish and ill-advised kiss in his surgeon’s office, he hadn’t gone near him since.
Rylan. Scott couldn’t help but glance over at the couch he’d almost made love to him on. Thank Christ the attack hadn’t stolen that sweet memory away, too, and all of a sudden he didn’t want to replace it with one of fucking a total stranger in the backseat of a rented limo. He dropped his arm from around the girl’s waist, trying to think of a way to let her down gently.
“You do realize you’re in a—I don’t know—a gay bar, Joanne, right?” This dry observation was made by another girl who stood nearby with her hands propped on her hips, looking at them with amusement.
Joanne gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “My bad,” she chirped with another hiccup. “I forgot.” Disappointment clouded her expression as she asked with a pout, “So you really don’t like pussy? Such a shame!”
Scott wanted to tell her he loved pussy, loved everything about it, the way it felt, the way it tasted, that gay bars could also include bisexual people as patrons, but instead he took the easy way out and gave her a wink and a chuck on the chin.
“But I do think you’re gorgeous.” He kissed her cheek. “Better luck next time, sweetheart.” With another drunken grin, she staggered off happily on the arm of her friend, and Scott made his way back down the stairs to the main dance floor.
Time to find Rylan and go home.
Scott meandered around the fringes of the crowd, uneasiness crawling up and down his spine as he did his best not to jump in fright every time someone made a sudden move in his peripheral vision, or even worse, bumped into him. Jesus, he had to get a fucking grip, and soon.
Where the fuck was Rylan? Panic started to whisper in his ear again, but the crowd shifted and he caught sight of him at last, dancing with a group of people, his camera nowhere to be seen. Scott’s tension eased, and he planted his back against a nearby wall and watched him for a moment, drinking in his fluid grace, the sexy way he moved his hips, how he seemed totally at home in his surroundings—happy.
A man moved in close to Rylan, and Scott stiffened when he saw it was that fucking Chris. Why was that dude always around? Rylan smiled lazily up at him as Chris slid his hands onto Rylan’s hips with an air of familiarity, like he’d done it before, like he knew it would be welcomed…
Holy shit, were they sleeping together? Scott cast his mind back over the last few weeks, his jaw throbbing as he ground his teeth.
Rylan had certainly been gone most nights, working either here at the club or on his side project. Although he was still keeping the details of his project to himself, he and Scott had spent many a pleasant afternoon sprawled on the couch going through the club photos, editing them, choosing the best ones to send to Corey.
“You know the club vibe best,” Rylan had said. “You know what’s going to stand out to Corey, what’s going to make the most impact on social media.” It made Scott feel good to be included, to feel like Rylan valued his input and opinion, and he knew it was Rylan’s way of keeping him connected to everything, to give him a sense of belonging even when absent.
But obviously Rylan’s nights hadn’t been all business, had they? Scott didn’t know what to make of the jealousy that was slithering through him, tying his insides up in knots. His eyes narrowed when Rylan spread his palms across Chris’s chest with a languid smile. Chris threaded his fingers through Rylan’s belt loops as he pulled him closer, and they looked so good together as they danced, so hot, so in tune, that Scott could suddenly picture how they’d look in bed…
He spun away before he stormed over there and yanked Rylan off the dance floor by the scruff of his neck. Scott could feel veins throbbing in his jaw, and once again, he pulled in deep breaths through his nose, trying to calm down before he gave himself another migraine. Damn it, he had no business being jealous, and he knew it.
Just get your ass home.
He trudged in the direction of the dressing room, intending to see if he could say a quick good-bye to Teena before heading out. Then he’d text Rylan and tell him to go ahead and take the bus home.
Or Chris will just drive him home in the morning.
The involuntary clench of his jaw shot pain clear up into the top of his skull, and he flinched. Just then he heard a cheerful “Hey,” and whirled around to see Rylan himself standing there, looking tousled and flushed. “You leaving?”
Scott gave a terse nod. “Yeah. Headache. See you.” He pushed past him, and Rylan grabbed his arm.
“Wait. You need me to drive you home? Let me grab my stuff—”
Scott jerked his arm away. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t dream of ruining your hookup again,” he said with a slight sneer, and Rylan blinked.
“What’s that supposed to mean? If you need me—”
“I don’t,” Scott interrupted. “You’re obviously busy, so bye.”
Rylan looked confused. “I’m done with the bachelorette party, so it’s okay if I leave any time, Scott. I don’t want you driving if you’re hurting.”
“Really? I’d think you’d be more worried about Chris’s blue balls than my head.” Scott didn’t mean to say that; it just slipped out, and Rylan’s eyes widened.
“What?”
“What do you mean, what? You were practically fucking him on the dance floor just now, Rylan!”
“No, I was…dancing with him.” Rylan spoke slowly, as if to a child, which only infuriated Scott that much more.
“You were making a damn spectacle of yourself, grinding up on him like that.” Once he’d started, Scott couldn’t seem to stop. “It was ridiculous.”
Now Rylan got angry. “Why is my dancing with an attractive man ridiculous?”
“Because he’s so much older than you, and it’s obvious he’s thrilled to be scoring with such a hot, young piece of ass,” Scott sneered. “Midlife crisis much?”
Rylan gasped in outrage, and Scott plowed on. “I didn’t know you had such a daddy fetish, Ry. Or is it purely a money thing with you?” He shrugged. “Either way, it’s embarrassing.”
He walked off toward the employee entrance, ignoring Rylan’s continued sputters, and pushed through the door out into the warm night.
Rylan ran around and got in front of him, impeding his progress.
“That’s fucking insulting, Scott,” he hissed. “Nice to know you think so little of me.”
“I’m just saying.”
Rylan narrowed his eyes and then poked him hard in the chest. “You want me to be honest here?”
Rylan’s color was high, his eyes were flashing, and he looked so goddamn gorgeous Scott went weak in the knees, fisting his hands by his sides to keep from grabbing him.
“By all means,” he said mockingly, making a sweeping “go on” gesture.
“Okay, yes. If Chris offered, I thought about going home with him tonight,” Rylan said, his tone blunt. “I like him.”
Scott gulped. “You mean you aren’t—fucking him yet? I thought—” The sudden relief blasting through him made him nauseous.
Rylan poked him again. “Nope. Well, we’ve made out a few times,” he allowed. “Enough for me to know sex with him will be amazing.”
Scott tensed again as a red haze descended before his eyes, and he growled, “No, it won’t.”
“Oh, yes, it will,” Rylan shot back. “I’m more than ready. He’s ready.”
He was so near now, Scott could count the freckles on his nose. A sudden desire to map them with his lips swept over him, the wave of pure longing making his nipples tingle, his cock thicken. “So are you telling me Chris is relationship material?” He thought he’d choke.
Rylan nodded. “Maybe not now. There’s a lot going on in both our lives, but someday? Definitely. He’s handsome and smart and funny. He makes me laugh. Why not see where it leads?”
Scott scowled. “Why not indeed?” he forced out. “I guess I should let you go back in there if that’s the case. So you can go dance with him. Have sex with him.” The images that invoked made him want to punch a wall.
“Yeah, I guess you should.” Rylan paused before taking yet another step closer. “Well, unless you have a really compelling reason”—another step—“for me not to go back in? Like a better offer, maybe?” He stood there, looking up at Scott, his blue eyes glowing with an unmistakable invitation.
“A better offer?” That made Scott hesitate, and just like that, the heat seeped out of Rylan’s eyes, replaced by resignation.
“Don’t even start with putting yourself down,” he said wearily. “I just thought—never mind.” He turned and started to walk back into the club. “See you later, Scott.”
Scott took two steps forward and grabbed Rylan’s arm. “What’s with the mind games here?” he snarled. “You’ve made it perfectly clear I’m to stay at arm’s length to keep from fucking up your precious career. I made my move, and you’ve shot me down more than once.” Scott let go of him, arranging his features into a mask of indifference. “But why wouldn’t you? You have everything in common with perfect Chris.” He gave a bitter snort. “While I just prance around in underwear.”
Rylan’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? How many guys can turn ‘prancing around in underwear’ into something like this? You’ve created a brand, made yourself into a business. That takes talent and savvy, along with sheer hard work. When we were kids, you told me you were gonna do it, and here you are.” His voice softened. “You know what I haven’t told you, something I should have long before now? That I’m really fucking proud of you, Scott.”
Scott blinked against the sudden rush of emotion, unable to speak.
“What you’ve accomplished here is amazing. You don’t have one single thing to be ashamed of. Not one.”
“Yeah? That’s where you’re wrong, Ry,” Scott said hoarsely. “Go back to Chris. I’m sorry for ruining your night.”
“You didn’t.” Rylan’s voice was firm. “Let me grab my stuff, and then we’ll go home.”
“What about Chris?” Scott waited for the answer, hating the renewed jealousy that surged in his blood and made him clench his fists.
“What about him? I never made him any promises.”
They were silent during the short drive to the condo. Rylan gazed out the window, the streetlights flashing rhythmically over his face as Scott navigated through the mostly deserted streets. When he’d at last parked and switched off the engine, neither one made a move to get out of the car.
“What did you mean, Ry? About a better offer,” Scott asked at last. “You said before you didn’t want to—”
“I know what I said.” Rylan flicked open his seat belt and turned to look at him. “And I was wrong.”
“Wrong about what?”
Rylan’s eyes didn’t waver from his. “Wrong to care what anyone else thinks. They don’t know me. They don’t know us.”
Scott lifted his hand and brushed his thumb over Rylan’s cheekbone, the tiny scar rough against the sensitive pad. “No,” he whispered. “They don’t know us.”
“We don’t owe anyone any explanations, and fuck ’em if they judge us.”
He looked so fierce, Scott couldn’t help but smile. “That’s right. Fuck ’em.”
“I don’t mean to play mind games. Let’s just be open to the possibilities, okay?”
Scott ached to take him in his arms and kiss him senseless, lose himself in him like he used to do so long ago. “These fucking wires,” he muttered, and Rylan chuckled.
“At least you’re getting them off soon.” He drifted his fingertips down Scott’s cheek. “You know what I was thinking about just now? That I loved those nights we used to lie awake talking…”
“And kissing…”
Rylan ran his palm over Scott’s chest and belly to cup him through his pants. “And…”
“Don’t say it,” Scott groaned, dropping his head back against the seat and hissing through his teeth when Rylan started a gentle massage.
“You don’t want me to say sucking you, tasting you? Why not?” His wicked fingers flicked the button of Scott’s jeans open and flirted with the zipper pull.
“Because I can’t do anything right now,” Scott growled. He gasped as Rylan eased the zipper down and stroked the patch of hair-roughened skin revealed by the open jeans. “Wires, remember?”
“You don’t have to do anything.” Rylan pushed Scott’s T-shirt up. “And I don’t have any wires.” To emphasize his point, he leaned down to drag his tongue through Scott’s treasure trail, humming in appreciation. “God, I love this part of you.”
“Ry,” Scott groaned, threading his fingers through Rylan’s hair. “Stop. You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” Rylan strung tiny sucking kisses along Scott’s abs from one hipbone to the other. “I want to taste you.”
Scott was achingly hard, and he moved his hips restlessly when Rylan mouthed along the waistband of his underwear. Closing his eyes in surrender, Scott reached behind him to grip the headrest of his seat as Rylan freed his cock from its fabric prison.
The first swipe of his rough tongue over the sensitive head made Scott cry out, and Rylan smacked his lips. “Better than I remember. Mmm.” He engulfed the tip in his mouth and suckled it, letting saliva run down the shaft to ease the way, starting a slow stroke with his fist.
Scott dug his fingers into the headrest. “Rylan—condoms in the glove box—” A sudden feeling of déjà vu swept over him, and he shoved away the memory of that dude from the gym just a few weeks ago, the hero worship on his face, the eager clumsiness of his hands and mouth…
Pulling off him with a pop of released suction, Rylan peeped at him, the dim light of the parking garage reflecting off his glasses. Scott plucked the glasses off and tossed them onto the dashboard before running his thumb over Rylan’s swollen lips. “Put a condom on me,” he ordered softly.
“Why?” Rylan held his eyes as he squeezed Scott’s cockhead between his fingers, deliberately lapping up the clear fluid that welled in the slit.
“Why?” Scott asked incredulously, yanking on Rylan’s hair. “Why do you think?”
Rylan traced the ridge with his tongue. “If you get tested—”
“Every six months, religiously.” Images flashed in his mind, of Joel, of strangers, of countless men and women, and he flinched.
Rylan smoothed his hand up Scott’s chest and pressed a gentle kiss to his belly. “Then no condom,” he whispered against his skin. “Not for this.”
Pumping him hard with his hand, Rylan took him into the back of his throat, his lips meeting his encircling fingers over and over. It was hot, wet, and expert, and despite the pleasure threatening to blow the top of Scott’s head off, he couldn’t help but contrast this with their first time—Rylan’s ineptness, his desperate desire to please him, the inherent tenderness and love behind every look, every gesture…
And you threw it all away.
Threw him into the arms of other men, men who’d taught him how to give pleasure like this, who’d taken that eager innocence and turned it into a devastating skill that was driving Scott out of his mind.
It could have been me. We could have learned together…
Anguish, along with jealousy over those nameless, faceless men, flooded through him, causing tears to spring to his eyes. Ruthlessly he tamped it all down, tightening his fingers in Rylan’s hair to hold him still, pumping his hips up to thrust deep.
Rylan took every inch easily, letting Scott fuck his mouth hard. The windows steamed over, Scott’s grunts filling the small car. Humming encouragement, Rylan cupped his balls and tugged on them, his agile tongue flicking the sensitive nerves under the head on every downstroke. The sensations bombarded Scott from all directions and soon overwhelmed him, and he arched his back before exploding with a loud groan.
“Rylan,” he gasped, watching as Rylan swallowed greedily, milking him with hand and mouth until he’d wrung Scott of every drop. With a last kiss to the tip of Scott’s softening cock, Rylan sat back in his seat and ran his hand through his sweaty hair. His face was flushed, his lips swollen and wet, and he looked so decadent, so sexy, that Scott couldn’t help but hook his hand around Rylan’s neck and pull him close again. He touched his lips to Rylan’s, aching to plunge his tongue inside his mouth and lick him clean, share the flavor…
“Mmm.” Rylan caught Scott’s lower lip between his teeth, tugging on it once before letting go. “So good.” He sat back again, eyes twinkling. “Are there security cameras down here? Because I think George just got an eyeful.”
Scott was surprised into a snort. “I’m sure he’s paid to be discreet.”
Rylan watched as he put his clothes to rights and tucked himself away. “Let’s go upstairs, take a shower, and do it all over again.”
Scott’s balls tingled pleasantly at the thought of a wet, soapy Rylan rubbing against him, and then his stomach growled. It wasn’t a mere rumble, but a long, embarrassing whine that sounded like a creaky door slowly being opened. He clapped his hand to his belly, wincing as Rylan’s lips parted in shock.
“Jesus. Apparently you need carrot juice more than you need sex.”
Scott’s face was hot with mortification. He saw Rylan wink at him and relaxed, quirking his lips. “Yeah, at the moment I guess that’s true,” he said ruefully.
“Then let’s go get you fed.”
Rylan climbed out of the convertible, laughing as he staggered a little before finding his balance. “I’m getting too old to fuck in cars anymore.” He caught his breath as Scott grabbed him around the waist with one arm and hauled him close.
“Been fucked in a lot of cars, have you?” Scott muttered, feeling that irrational jealousy churn in his gut again, overtaking the hunger.
Reaching around to pinch his ass, Rylan said drily, “Let me remind you I went to college in Miami. I’ve done things that would make you blush.”
Scott couldn’t help himself. “Like what?”
Rylan smirked. “Let’s just say I know what I like, what I want, and when the time is right, I’ll be very vocal about it.” He gave Scott’s ass cheek a smack. “You’re gonna need all your strength to keep up with me, so let’s go get that carrot juice.”