by Ella Frank
Leaning against the bar, Tate stared at Mr. Gin and Tonic and noticed that his glass was empty once again. “Want another?”
“No.”
Tate’s eyes moved from the highball glass to the blue ones peering back at him from behind narrow, black hipster glasses. This guy screamed sophistication, from his styled black hair, slickly parted to the left, to the perfect amount of stubble. He clearly took his image seriously.
Tate had once heard Diana refer to a man as geek chic. This guy had that look about him, except for the eyes. Tate couldn’t quite pinpoint what the difference was, but with the silence between them, and the intense stare, he became slightly uncomfortable. He also noted that the interest the blonde had stirred in his cock was not subsiding, but he quickly shoved that thought aside.
“Anything else I can get for you?” Tate asked.
“Why didn’t you get her number?”
Taken off guard by the complete change of subject, all Tate managed was, “Huh?”
“Her number?” Mr. Gin and Tonic repeated, glancing across the bar in the direction of the blonde. “Why didn’t you get it? She was obviously interested.”
Still holding the small towel in his left hand, Tate started to wipe down the surface of the bar. It was already pretty clean, but he needed the distraction.
“No fraternizing with customers.” Raising his gaze, Tate gave a shrug accompanied by what he hoped was an easygoing smile, as he continued wiping the bar.
The man staring back at him didn’t return it. “That’s a shame.”
Tate stopped moving the towel and held it between his hands. What the hell does that mean? Looking around, he noticed that Amelia and Stacy, his coworkers, were nowhere in sight, so he was confused by exactly who the man was referring to. When Tate turned back, the steady gaze behind the glasses were now creased at the sides with what he swore was amusement—at him.
“It’s a shame because she’s…how did you describe the redhead earlier? Sexy as hell?”
In shock, Tate stood there, silent. He couldn’t think of one thing to say. For a brief moment, he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion, and thought the man meant it was a shame that he couldn’t fraternize with him. Instead of responding, Tate remained mute with the towel in his hands, contemplating the man across the bar.
Mr. Gin and Tonic stood and picked up his briefcase from the floor. He reached for his vibrating phone on the bar top and glanced down at it. Obviously deciding it wasn’t important, he looked back at Tate as he pulled his wallet from his pants pocket. He took out some cash and slid it across the bar.
For some unknown reason, Tate felt that it was important to stand his ground, so he didn’t glance down at the money. Instead, he offered his fail-safe—the easygoing grin that usually let him get away with everything.
“You should get that number from her. You look a little stiff, like you need to unwind, if you know what I mean.”
With his own words flung back at him, Tate watched the man make a call on his phone before he turned and left the bar.
It wasn’t until Stacy came up and said his name that he realized he was still standing where he had been for the last several minutes, and his erection hadn’t fully relaxed.
Staring down at the bar, he saw a fifty on the surface, and he shook his head.
Damn, that’s one hell of a tip. I don’t care how strange that interaction was. If he’s a regular, I’m making him mine.
Chapter Two
Yep, second night in a row, and I’m back at the bar.
This time though, Logan came earlier. He glanced down at his watch, seeing that it was only five fifteen. He never left the office that early unless he had somewhere to be or someone to do. This was definitely not one of those times. Nevertheless, whatever he’d felt after that initial encounter compelled him to return to the bar tonight. It was lingering in his perverted head.
So, best not to let it linger. Better to go and take a second look.
Making his way through the busy after-work crowd, Logan made sure to keep his head down. He didn’t want distractions, and he didn’t want attention. He wanted to sit at the end of the bar and observe.
Tonight, Logan had only come armed with his cell and wallet. He had made sure to leave his briefcase at the office. He didn’t want to worry about what was between his legs. Well, between my ankles anyway.
He scanned behind the bar, but he didn’t see the man from the night before. Hmm, maybe he isn’t working tonight. He was sure though that he had heard the guy say Tuesday through Saturday. Yeah…hello stalker.
Taking a spot at the far end of the bar, Logan unfastened his black jacket and loosened his tie.
Stacy, one of the bartenders, came over with a smile. “Usual tonight? Or do you plan to shake things up?”
Logan was about to answer, but before a word could come out of his mouth, he heard that deep baritone from behind him.
“I’m guessing he wants a gin and tonic. Why stray from the usual?”
Turning his head, Logan saw the bartender from the previous night. He was walking over to the bar pass, dressed in the same black uniform. It shouldn’t have surprised Logan when he felt his pants tighten in response, especially when he lowered his gaze and noticed the guy was carrying a black leather jacket in one hand, and holding on to a red motorcycle helmet in the other. Logan’s cock twitched with interest.
The man’s hair looked as though he had just removed the headgear. His brown curls were all over the place. He moved through the pass and turned back to face Logan. When the guy flashed that same relaxed grin from yesterday, Logan’s erection went from interested to rock-fucking-hard.
Christ, it’s official. I have a hard-on for a straight guy. That’s just terrific.
“That’s your poison, right?”
“Right,” Logan agreed.
Stacy quickly gave Logan a wink.
I really need to get his name.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” she told her coworker, walking farther down the bar toward a newly seated customer.
As the guy opposite him turned, picked up a bar towel, and poked it into the waist of his pants, Logan took the opportunity to have a good, long look at the way the guy’s black fabric molded to his ass. Wishing he already had a drink to soothe the urges riding him, Logan made sure that his face was neutral when the bartender came back to him.
“Give me one minute. I have to put my gear in the back and punch in.”
As he sauntered down the bar, Logan noticed several customers’ eye him, and he had to wonder why the guy had gone out of his way to interrupt Stacy before he was even settled in.
Interested? No, you moron. It’s because of the tip from last night. He’s back for more.
Logan told his body to calm the hell down. This was nice scenery, but that was all it would ever be. The guy was obviously just doing his job, and here Logan was, fixating on him, like some fucking weirdo. Logan hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the man all damn night, not to mention while at work today.
Finally getting his body to cooperate, Logan felt his phone vibrate, and he turned it over to see a text from Jessica.
Jessica: So, are you free next month?
Sure. Why not? That woman’s pussy had been tight and warm, and he wouldn’t mind revisiting it. But right now, right this second, his interests lay with a body that was completely different in physicality.
He picked up the phone, opened the message, and replied.
Next month sounds fantastic. Can’t wait to see you—all of you.
When he placed the phone down, he was surprised to find the bartender now standing across from him.
Oh, so the guy is stealthy, too.
“Here’s your drink.” He pushed the glass across the counter.
Logan saw those brown eyes almost smiling at him as the bartender waited, and Logan wondered what exactly he was waiting for. “I would thank you, but I don’t know your name.”
The guy reached behind hi
s back to the towel tucked into his pants, and he pulled it in front of him and started moving it over the bar top. Logan was curious if it was a habit of his, or maybe it was just something he did when he felt nervous or unsure.
“You can’t thank a stranger? I just served one.”
“That’s true.” Logan lifted the glass to his lips.
He didn’t look away as he took a sip, and he became curious when the other man didn’t turn away either. Lowering his drink back to the bar, Logan kept his fingers wrapped around it as he swirled the glass around.
“I’m Logan.”
A confident smirk crossed the bartender’s lips, and he moved his hands to tuck the towel back into his pants, immediately drawing Logan’s gaze to his waist.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Logan. I’ll be back when you need a refill.”
Well played. Logan watched the back of the still-nameless guy move away from him. Well fucking played.
* * *
Tate couldn’t help but feel somewhat cocky as he walked away from Mr. Gin and—Logan.
Last night, when he was finally at home relaxing, he’d found himself replaying the entire conversation with Logan, trying to pinpoint why it had seemed so unusual. Finally, he had worked it out.
It was because the guy had been checking him out.
This guy, Logan, had been flirting with him.
It had been subtle, but when Tate thought about the words exchanged, they’d definitely had a flirtatious undertone, and that was when he came to his final conclusion. Logan was gay. He had to be.
Tate couldn’t believe that he hadn’t realized it sooner. In his profession, it wasn’t like he was a stranger to both women and men hitting on him, but for some reason, he hadn’t seen it right away with this guy.
Maybe he’d missed it because he had witnessed the look between Logan and the redhead. Or maybe he was delusional and totally off base, and the guy was just a little odd.
Why else would he say no to the redhead? Unless he’s married? But the way he looked me over…it was like he thought I was—hot?
Well, no matter what it was, now that Tate had his theory, he figured there was no harm in flirting right back. Usually, he kept the charm for the women, but if it made this Logan guy a regular paying customer, Tate saw no harm in it. He was comfortable enough with his sexuality.
“Hey, Tate, looks like you caught the attention of one of our regulars.”
Tate turned his head toward Stacy, who was standing beside him, pouring some ingredients into a blender filled with ice.
Choosing to act ignorant, he asked, “Oh yeah? Who would that be?”
“Logan, the guy at the end of the bar. Suit, glasses, gorgeous blue eyes. Flirts every time his mouth is open.” She let out a dramatic sigh.
When Tate looked over his shoulder, he saw that Logan was actually staring at both of them. He wasn’t smiling, and Tate made sure to have a neutral expression on his face as he stared back at the man.
Turning back around, he grabbed a bottle of water, opened it, and lifted it to his lips, then returned his attention to Stacy. “Do you know anything about him?”
“Other than he oozes sex and has dated half the women who work here? Although, I’m not sure you can call it dating.”
Tate choked on the water in his mouth. He recovered as quickly as he could as Stacy laughed and placed the lid on the blender.
“You’re shocked? I’m pretty sure he could date the manager if he asked Pete nicely. That one comes with one hell of a reputation.”
Okay, so nix the gay theory. The guy must play for both teams. Well, I can still work with that.
* * *
Stacy and the man who has all of my attention are definitely talking about me.
Logan brought the glass back up to his lips. After taking a sip, he placed it down on the bar. He’d had been tempted to wink at the hot bartender when he’d glanced his way. It was more Logan’s nature, but he wasn’t sure how that would have been received, so he’d refrained.
He was almost positive that the man had flirted with him only minutes earlier. Maybe that was some wishful thinking, because, right now, the guy was giving no emotion away. He’d turned back to his coworker, making Logan believe he was more than likely, imagining things.
Before Logan could think anything else about it, his phone started ringing. He picked it up and accepted the incoming call.
“Jessica. You are impatient, aren’t you?”
As a relaxed laugh filtered through the phone, Logan pictured her smooth, long legs parting for him as they had only a couple of weeks earlier.
“Well, after your last text, I wanted to hear your voice.”
“So, should I just start reciting the alphabet?” Logan asked, dropping his voice to an intimate tone.
“You could, or you could tell me how much you miss being inside me and how you’re dying to get back there.”
Logan chuckled, and his lips curled as he let her words sink in. Although he would have to wait another month, he was looking forward to sliding his dick back inside her.
“Well, that wouldn’t be a lie,” he agreed just as he felt someone stop in front of him. He raised his gaze to meet the current object of his lust, and he felt the devil on his shoulder as he licked his bottom lip. “I wouldn’t mind getting you out of your clothes. When can we arrange that?”
Who he was really addressing was anyone’s guess. Logan noticed the bartender’s eyebrow arch, as he listened to Jessica’s husky laugh. He imagined the man in front of him saying, Right now, and removing all his clothes, starting with that black vest.
That didn’t last long though because the guy angled his head like he was about to leave, but Logan didn’t want him to go anywhere.
He held up a finger, and contemplated the man in front of him as he said into the phone, “I’m out right now, Jess. You think we could have this conversation a little later?”
Hot bartender reached for the ever-present towel with his left hand, and he started to once again wipe down the bar. His repeated actions came close to confirming Logan’s earlier suspicions.
That’s a nervous habit. It’s got to be.
“Yes, tonight is good. I’ll talk to you then. Bye, hon.”
As he ended the call and placed the phone on the bar, he waited for the man opposite him to talk. When nothing came, Logan leaned in and decided to stop being polite. What the fuck, right?
“I think the bar is clean. You can stop wiping it down now.”
Immediately, the towel stopped moving, and the guy stood back up, tucking it into his pants.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable—” Logan started but was cut off quickly.
“No, you’re not.”
Logan scoffed at that and started to finger the rim of his glass. “Okay, you’re right. I’m not. I figured you deserved it after talking about me with your coworker. Isn’t that frowned upon or something? Gossiping about your customers?”
His bartender—Yeah, that’s how I’m going to think of him—leaned his hands on the counter.
“I suppose it would be. Dating the customers is also frowned upon, but you don’t seem to mind that rule,” he replied steadily.
“Ah,” Logan said. It was the usual work gossip. “The new guy has finally been informed.”
“Informed of?”
Logan didn’t know what had provoked him, but the cap he normally kept on his personality had finally been unscrewed.
He pushed up a little from the rungs on the bar stool and rested his palms on the bar top as he leaned across the surface. “That I like to fuck, and that I’ve slept with almost all of the women and a couple of the guys you work with. And just so you don’t worry about them, they all thanked me afterward.”
Sitting back on his stool, he was proud to see that his little admission had shocked the bartender. The man’s mouth was parted as he remained focused on Logan.
“Isn’t that what you were discussing with Stacy? Oh, come on
, we aren’t strangers anymore. You know my name, remember? But I still don’t know yours. Should I just keep thinking of you as the hot bartender? Or maybe that’s offensive. You should give me your name, so I stop labeling you in the same way you are trying so desperately to label me.”
* * *
Who is this guy? Tate stood there, completely stunned by the words that had just come out of that perfectly shaped mouth—Wait. Why do I care about his mouth? Fucking Stacy, talking about how good-looking he is.
“Would you like another drink?” He needed to quickly get this conversation back on track. This guy could have him fired on day three of his employment.
“Oh, I’ve shocked and scared the man behind the bar. That’s amazing really, considering only…” He stopped and looked at the clock on the wall. “Fifteen minutes ago, you jumped to take my order.”
Tate was trying to keep up with what the hell was going on while looking at the man peering at him from behind the dark-framed glasses, but he was coming up with absolutely nothing.
“It’s okay,” Logan assured, dropping the heavy sarcasm. He gave a relaxed smile. “I’m only inappropriate when I’m sober.”
That finally made Tate laugh. Somehow, he doubted it.
“So, I just have to get you drunk to shut your mouth?” As soon as he’d said the words, he knew they were the wrong ones, considering the current conversation.
“Well, that’s definitely one way, but I can think of a more preferable one, not to mention more pleasurable,” Logan responded.
Tate recognized the same voice he had heard Logan use on the phone with Jess when he’d said he wanted to get her naked. Or maybe Jess was a he?
“Do you hit on everyone you meet?” Tate heard himself ask as he stood, frozen to the spot by some perverse curiosity.
Yes, he’d been the object of affection over the years, but there was something different behind Logan’s comments. Logan’s scrutiny was a lot more intense than a casual once-over. Logan was looking at him like he wanted to see him without his clothes on, as soon as possible.
“Do you?” Logan countered, looking directly at him.
