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The Gin Rickey

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by George, G. R. ; George, Renee;




  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  The Gin Rickey

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Preview the next book

  Note from G.R.

  eBooks by G.R. George

  G.R. recommends … Lexxie Couper

  Excerpt

  Ricky made his way back to the kitchen. He needed a minute to pull himself together. Was Alex going to ignore him? He dumped water on the griddle and watched it bubble and boil before using the scraper to clean the burger residue from the surface. Anything to distract him from the potential rejection.

  By the time Alex walked through the door to the kitchen, Ricky was convinced Alex had changed his mind. When the tall man shuffled past him, head down and backpack in hand, Ricky felt completely gutted. He turned around to face Alex, arms crossed over his chest to keep his hands from shaking.

  It surprised him to find Alex was staring at him. His eyes were wide in a question, his lips soft and slightly parted. He was waiting—waiting for Ricky.

  Alex’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. He nervously asked, “Are you ready for me?”

  Ricky nodded. “Yes.”

  Alex’s lower lip trembled before he pulled it between his teeth to stop the movement.

  God, that mouth! Ricky rubbed his thickening cock, so hard under the seam of his jeans. Alex watched him, his hands mimicking Ricky’s as he rubbed the bulge forming in his black slacks. Alex licked his lips, a reminder to Ricky what he could do with that mouth and tongue, but Ricky had other plans for Alex this time.

  There were only twenty-five minutes until Alex’s shift started. They’d be cutting it close, but Ricky didn’t care. “Go on.” He gestured to the back.

  He watched Alex rush to the back of the kitchen and smiled as he disappeared around the corner past the walk-in. His skin flushed with excitement as he finished wiping down the grill. He hurried, but didn’t race, to wash his hands before going back to meet Alex. He didn’t want the guy to think he was too eager.

  When he rounded the corner, he mouth dropped open. Alex displayed himself against the back wall of the closet, pants down past his thighs, and his beautiful, creamy white ass presented like a gift.

  The brown-eyed beauty looked over his shoulder at Ricky. “Is this how you want me?”

  “Yes,” Ricky said, his voice suddenly hoarse and rough. He stood behind Alex and inhaled the scent of his hair. His shampoo left behind a scent of fresh green apples. It made Ricky’s mouth water. He moved to the left side of Alex and stroked a finger down his back until the tip rested on the top of his butt cheek. His ass was pale perfection. There were no tan lines or any hint that he ever let sunshine anywhere near his body. He wondered if Alex had some Irish in him. Ricky smirked. If he didn’t now, he soon would.

  The Gin Rickey

  The Other Team, Book 3

  G.R. George

  Published 2016 by Book Boutiques.

  ISBN: 978-1-944003-01-2

  Copyright © 2016, G.R. George.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Book Boutiques.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, locales, or events is wholly coincidental. The names, characters, dialogue, and events in this book are from the author’s imagination and should not to be construed as real.

  Manufactured in the USA.

  Email support@bookboutiques.com with questions, or inquiries about Book Boutiques.

  Blurb

  Alex Michaels values intellect and propriety. To help pay the bills while he finishes his biological research degree, he waits tables at The Other Team. He's trying to avoid romantic entanglements to focus on his studies, but the new cook, Ricky McNeil, is dangerously attractive. Ricky's scars and tattoos have Alex both scared and horny.

  It doesn't take long for Alex to cave in to their insane attraction. But can two men from two different worlds have more than just a physical connection?

  Previously Published

  (2014) Renee George

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank my best friends, Michele Bardsley, Dakota Cassidy, Emma Ray Garrett, and Robbin Clubb for encouraging me to get off my ass and write, write, write. And to my husband, with whom I have spent over half my life, thank you for always supporting me. I’d also be remiss if I didn’t thank my beta-readers and dear friends, Katherine Johnson, Gregory Payne, Kevin Macias, Barb Hicks, and Mark Boyer. Last, but certainly not least, for her patience and love and friendship, I will thank Maryam Salim (even if a thank you is wholly inadequate). I am surrounded by the best people!

  Cover Art: Renee George

  The Gin Rickey Recipe

  2 ounces of gin

  Juice of 1 lime

  Club Soda

  Fill a Collins glass with ice. Pour gin and the juice of one lime over the ice. Top off with club soda. Use a twist of lime for garnish. While the Rickey has a hint of bitterness, it’s always refreshing.

  Chapter 1

  He’s Not Alex’s type

  Alex Michaels sat at the employee table while he perused a study on neural regeneration. He’d been working at The Other Team—a gay sports bar in the downtown area—for almost three months. He needed the job to pay the bills while he finished his master’s degree in research biology. A scrape of metal on metal from the grill drew his attention. He stretched his arms, cramped from typing at the keyboard, and cast a sideways glance at the new cook Ricky McNeil.

  The man had only been working at The Other Team for about two weeks. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties and had a lean build. His dark hair hung loose and messy around his ears, and he generally sported a week’s worth of beard growth. A little too grungy for Alex’s taste. Besides, Ricky had sleeve tattoos down both of his arms—that and his rough appearance made Alex nervous. The guy was probably a criminal. Although, he had to admit, a criminal with a sexy ass beneath those tight jeans. He’d spent more than one break staring at Ricky’s compact backside.

  The door to the kitchen swung open. Todd Nelson and Tucker Thompson fell in, their arms locked around each other, as they kissed and groped as if they were the only two people in the room. They weren’t.

  “Get a room, guys.” Ricky, who’d been stirring a pot of chili, waved a sauced spoon at them. “And not this one.”

  Tuck flushed, but Todd’s grin was unashamed. The young men couldn’t keep their hands off one another since the night of Alex and Tuck’s disastrous date. He still had a crush on Tuck, but nothing but death would come between those two. He sighed. Watching the passion between the young lovers made him ache, and he hated to admit it, but the lust rolling off them made his dick hard.

  He gawked at the two blonds as they made their way back out of the kitchen. Absently, he rubbed his hand over his groin. Even under his jeans, he could clearly make out the edges of his semi-hard erection. He’d thought about trying to talk his way into a Tuck and Todd sandwich, but he couldn’t stand Todd. Smug bastard.

  He looked at his watch—only twenty minutes left on break. He was tired, his feet hurt, and he was horny. Not a happy combination. His gaze shifted from the door, to his laptop, to the cook…who’d been staring at him.

  He took his hand off his dick, startled by the intensity in Ricky’s light green eyes.

  Ricky didn’t look away. “So that’s your type, huh?” He had a slight accent in his speech pattern Alex couldn’t place.

&nbs
p; “What are you talking about?”

  “That boy, Tucker.” Ricky smirked. His smile—a flash of straight white teeth—crinkled the skin around his eyes, disarming Alex with its charm. He’d never seen Ricky smile before, or at least not that he’d noticed. The guy usually looked sullen and broody. Alex watched the dark-haired brute lean back against the counter near the range. He crossed his left foot in front of his right, displaying a fairly sizable bulge pressing against the fly of his jeans. “Is that your type?”

  Alex found it difficult to concentrate with Ricky’s obvious prominence displayed in front of him. “I…Uhm…” He licked his suddenly dry lips. Staring at Ricky—a product of his socio-economic upbringing no doubt—Alex didn’t know if he should run toward him or run away. Ninety-nine percent of him wanted to run away, but the one percent that wanted to stay made his cock rock hard.

  Jesus. The bulge in Ricky’s pants promised to be one of the biggest dicks Alex had ever seen. The old adage about dynamite coming in small packages played on a loop in his mind. Narrow shoulders, narrow chest, narrow waist and hips, and one big, fat cock. “I don’t really have a type,” he finally replied.

  Ricky chuckled. It was raspy. Probably from too much cigarette smoking. The effect held Alex’s attention. He wasn’t a casual dater and even less casual about sex, but watching Ricky slide his hand over the top of his own groin and caress his shaft through the rough denim fabric, made no strings attached sex seem very appealing.

  Ricky ran his tongue inside his lower lip. His bright green eyes, framed by long dark lashes, almost glowed with heat and promise. A noise, unbidden, escaped from Alex’s throat as his cock tented his slacks.

  He and Ricky were obviously from different backgrounds. How could Ricky possibly fit into Alex’s world? They’d have nothing in common. What if he fell in love and had to introduce Ricky to his parents? They were fine with him being gay, but they could be hypercritical about a man in his life. Ricky would never live up to their expectations.

  Damn. Two seconds of Ricky’s attention and he was already playing the “what if” game—something he did with every guy he found attractive. He had an idea in his head about the perfect partner, and so far, no man had ever met the criterion. Why couldn’t he just have fun? Nothing heavy. No complications.

  He noticed a scar on Ricky’s upper lip, making the thickness slightly uneven. It gave him a really sexy pout and just added to the danger factor. He’d probably been in a lot of fights. Damn, Ricky was hot, but the idea of dating someone who might shank him, and not in a good way, terrified Alex. So why couldn’t he stop staring at the cook’s extra-large package?

  Ricky winked. The right side of his mouth quirked up into a crooked smile. “You want to suck my dick, don’t you, Alex?”

  Alex sputtered. The gall of this man! What, because he had an impressive penis, automatically it meant Alex wanted to give him a blowjob? He had a lot of fucking nerve. Alex had to swallow the hot knot lodged in his throat before he could answer. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.” He stood, his hands shaking.

  Ricky nodded, the half grin still playing on his lips. “Is that a yes?”

  “Jesus.” Alex threw his hands up. “Yes.” He quickly crossed the distance to Ricky. Alex was afraid he’d change his mind if he thought too much about what he was doing. Looking at those sexy hips, he squashed his fears into a pile and pushed them to the back of his mind. Besides, if he didn’t do this now he’d become obsessed. It’s hard to study biology when focusing on anatomy.

  He stood inches taller than Ricky, but kept his eyes averted. Ricky was probably having a grand laugh over this, but Alex decided he wanted a quick dick more than he wanted to avoid embarrassment. He reached down and fumbled with the button on Ricky’s jeans.

  Ricky put his hand over Alex’s and stopped him. “Not here,” he said, his voice ragged and harsh. “Let’s go to the back.” He took Alex by the hand and yanked him toward the walk-in freezer.

  “We’re not going in there, are we?” When Alex had been in fifth grade, a couple of bullies had shoved him into the maintenance room at school. He’d only spent a couple of hours locked in, but it had been enough to give him claustrophobia. He didn’t like small rooms with closed doors. Panic rose in his chest, quickening his pulse and his breathing.

  Ricky turned to face Alex. “Of course not.” He stepped into the storage closet, the door wide open, and pulled the light on. He leaned back against a shelf of dry goods, his head resting on a box labeled Paper Towels. “Here.”

  Alex swallowed, still afraid. “Can we leave the door open?”

  “No worries.” Ricky shrugged. “The lock’s broken, so we have to leave it open.” He gave Alex an appraising once over, swiveled his arms out at the elbows, and turned his palms up as if to say, Come and get me.

  The closet was only semi-private. Anyone could walk around the corner and see them. Frankly, it turned Alex on more than he was comfortable with—more than he wanted to admit. He ran his fingers over Ricky’s tight T-shirt, tracing every groove of his wiry muscles. Damn, his body was hard and lean.

  Alex fumbled with the fly of Ricky’s jeans, eager to see what lay trapped beneath the dense fabric. He didn’t like to think of himself as a “cock worshipper,” but Ricky’s thick length, close to ten inches and impressively wide, made Alex shudder with anticipation. How did the guy manage condoms?

  “You like what you see?” Ricky’s voice had an edge.

  What Alex saw scared the shit out of him…but it also excited him. He gulped. “I have a feeling you’re a very bad man.”

  Ricky smirked. “You like ‘em bad?”

  “I think so.” Maybe. He wasn’t sure. He’d never been with a “bad” guy before, but everything about Ricky, from the scruffy face, unruly hair, and tattoos, revved his desire.

  Ricky reached up and traced the line of Alex’s jaw. “You want to wrap that pretty mouth around my dick?”

  Again, Alex nodded. He wrapped his hands around the base of the heavy shaft. He started to go to one knee, but Ricky stopped him.

  “Say it.”

  Alex’s cock throbbed. Ricky’s mild command had him ready to spontaneously combust. His lower lip trembled as he forced the words from his mouth. “I want to suck you.”

  A rough groan rumbled from Ricky as he put his hands on Alex’s shoulders and pressed downward. Alex didn’t need more encouragement. He quickly dropped to his knees. The head of Ricky’s cock glistened with a small pool of precum at the tip. Alex licked the slick liquid and watched with satisfaction as the thick erection twitched in response.

  He stretched his lips to fit around the abundant head and took as much of the length as he could into his mouth. Fuck! He could feel the veins on Ricky’s cock pulsing against his tongue as he sucked and licked, using his own saliva to stroke the base. He caressed Ricky’s balls, slightly tugging them as he began to suck with earnest. He felt Ricky’s hands fist his hair, urging him to work faster. His eyes watered as he tilted his chin to open the path to the back of his throat and fought against his gag reflex as the fat tip reached its destination.

  Ricky moaned his approval.

  The edges of orgasm heated Alex’s groin. Pleasing Ricky turned him on more than he’d expected. God, why hadn’t he taken his own dick out of his pants? The illicitness of the sex with Ricky excited him more than anything or anyone had in a long time.

  Ricky yanked Alex’s head back. Raising his shirt, he stared down the length of his torso until his eyes met Alex’s. His slack mouth and heavy panting betrayed his desire, and he thrust his hips. Alex tightened his fist at the base of Ricky’s cock to keep from choking, but the hungry eagerness in the rough man’s gaze made Alex want to take every greedy inch he could manage.

  “I’m coming,” Ricky said in warning.

  He was giving Alex the choice, stay and drink him down, or let go and let the cum fall where it may. Both scenarios thrilled Alex. He wondered which Ricky would like better. Would it tu
rn the man on more to see Alex swallowing or wearing?

  Ricky stifled a cry, his eyes squeezing tight for a moment, as the first pulse of cum shot into Alex’s mouth. The hot cream danced on his tongue as he slid his lips off and stroked Ricky’s throbbing length as ropes of semen decorated his chin and mouth. He had to brace himself when, like a teenage boy in the throes of puberty, he climaxed without any assistance.

  When Ricky finished, he put his fingers under Alex’s chin and wiped his lower lip with his thumb. He narrowed his brow, a dark spill of hair shadowing his eyes. “Break’s over.”

  Confusion and shame wrapped Alex like a too thin blanket in a snowstorm. Ricky had used him and was now discarding him like week-old leftovers. Alex watched him button and zip his jeans.

  Unexpectedly, Ricky grabbed a paper towel roll from one of the boxes on the rack and pulled off a couple of sheets. He began to wipe Alex’s face with a surprising amount of tenderness. When he’d finished, Ricky elevated his eyebrows slightly, and met Alex’s eyes. “There. While I love the way you look wearing me, I don’t think it’s work appropriate attire.” He made a point of looking down at Alex’s groin and smiled. “Might want to get an apron over that.”

  “Right,” Alex said—a flush of embarrassment warmed his ears. “Right.”

  “Tomorrow come in early.” Ricky licked his lips. “Prepare yourself for me. I’m going to stick my tongue so far up that tight ass of yours, you’ll be begging for a pounding.”

  Oh shit. Alex’s felt the first stirrings of desire again. No. He would not be turned on right now—not by this bossy, ill-mannered, uncouth…sexy, hot, and delicious man.

  His brain and his body were having a battle, but he was determined his brain would win. What makes Ricky think there’ll be a tomorrow? That man has a lot of fucking nerve! Could he actually believe Alex was just going to jump to do his bidding? Well, he would show Ricky who was in control—who was the boss of Alex—and it certainly wasn’t some street thug.

 

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