by Cara Dee
His chest brushed mine on the way out, and then he broke the gaze and disappeared.
I exhaled heavily and slumped down in my seat to finish my drink.
“Oh, my.” At Martin’s comment, I feared he’d caught me, though when I followed his stare, I had to smirk. He’d found a Latino ass to gawk at.
“Smooth, Martin.”
He shot me a playful glare.
I people watched for a while, hoping to get another drink soon. I asked Martin for the name of the drink so I could order another, and he told me it was called Violet Haze. I repeated the name to myself to remember it and checked out some more guys.
Henry returned but didn’t want a seat. He suggested we move to the bar instead, while he was giving me something new to fantasize about—his arms. Forearm porn was happening as he folded up the sleeves of his button-down. How had I not noticed them when he was wearing T-shirts?
The bar was more packed than before, and sadly it was Martin that Henry and I had sandwiched between us as we made our way over there. Although, Martin had a pretty fucking nice ass too. He just wasn’t Henry.
“You continue along, young grasshopper,” Martin called over the music. “Henry and I will be here.”
“You’re serious?” I threw him an incredulous look.
It was darker in this area, so I couldn’t get a good read on Henry’s face. Martin was insistent, though. He wanted me to spread my wings, and that was the point of this, wasn’t it? Fucking hell. All right, I’d check shit out, maybe buy someone a drink, maybe get a drink in return, and then I’d be back.
It took me five or six steps into the crowd to lose sight of the men. I came to a stop in the dark and looked around me. Completely alone in a gay bar slash club, literally surrounded by moving bodies. Laughter pierced through the pumping music, a P!nk song this time, drinks sloshing, women dancing, men dancing, smoke billowing, rainbows from the spotlights jumping.
A hand on my ass made me turn around so fast that my neck hurt. There was a murmured, “Gorgeous” in my ear. Then a hand on my abs. No one stuck. I didn’t see faces. They kept moving. My chest and stomach twisted with nerves and the slowly building excitement, and the grin on my face was next. This was fucking wild—for me, anyway.
I walked at snail’s pace to the other end of the bar, and it didn’t take more than half a minute before a man offered to buy me a drink. This was it, I was gonna try. I nodded and thanked him, telling him what I wanted. While he leaned over the bar, I couldn’t not check him out, and he was…he was okay. To others, he was probably smoking hot. To me, he was Abercrombie forgettable. Nice body, nice face, nice hair, whatever. If he were a few years younger, I could picture him working in a Hollister.
“What’s your name?” I asked over the music.
He smiled curiously and handed me my drink. “Rick. You?”
“Zach.”
Well, this was going great. I snorted to myself and took a big drink, fucking in love with this cocktail, and it wasn’t weak, either. Between this one and the first, I already had a buzz setting in.
Rick got close and spoke in my ear. “You from here?”
I shook my head, and we kinda got pushed together in between two barstools. “Washington. What about you?”
“Born and raised in Glendale, then went AWOL a few years ago and never looked back.”
“AWOL?” I cocked my head, wondering if I’d heard that right.
Rick and I were the same height, and this time when he leaned in, his hand went to my hip. “Always West of Lincoln—you know Lincoln Boulevard?” I shrugged. He laughed. “Just how new are you to LA, Zach?” My name rolled off his tongue with amusement in his tone.
I chuckled. “Brand new. Got here Wednesday.”
I couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, but they sparked with interest.
“If you’re only here for a good time, count me in,” he said.
Oh boy. Okay, so he wanted a quick fuck. Sometimes, that was what we wanted. He wouldn’t get anything from me, though, so when he suggested we hit the dance floor, I lost him there.
LA was doing something to me. I got careless. I lost track of time too, and the atmosphere kept me energized and ready to go. I paid for my next three drinks myself, and I danced for the first time since junior high. The music never stopped, people came and went, some paused and tried to hit on me, and I flirted a bit as well. It was all in good fun, though I ended up having the most fun when I stumbled into a bachelorette party in the corner of the dance floor. Surrounded by drunk, giggly women, I could relax and spread those wings Martin had talked about.
I acknowledged some of the women were pretty—beautiful, even—but it ended there. I wasn’t in the mood for any kind of meat market, regardless of gender. I wanted to drink, dance, and find out who I was.
It was me and another guy—a stranger—who’d almost literally landed in the laps of these ladies. He and I exchanged brief greetings. “Mario,” he said, and I returned with, “Zach.” I was nursing the last of my drink, my mind starting to swim, and he disappeared to buy a beer.
“I gotta pee!” one of the girls exclaimed.
I had to go too, and that was how I ended up in line for the bathrooms with tipsy Teresa and shit-faced Sharon. The line to the men’s room was, perhaps not strangely—though it was still weird—longer than the line to the ladies’ room, so the chicks dragged me with them. I was too drunk to protest.
I blinked at the harsh light inside.
I got into an empty stall and rested one hand on the wall to steady myself. Women seriously talked in here. I thought that was a myth. Not here; Sharon and Teresa discussed their friend’s wedding, and another party of women was chattering about guys and appointments.
Once I was done, I zipped up and left the stall to wash my hands. That was where Teresa met up with me, and she opened her clutch, makeup falling out along with two condoms and a phone.
She found that hysterical.
“You okay?” I chuckled.
“Oh, I’m more than okay, sweetie.” She grinned and touched up her lipstick. “Are you here with a boyfriend?”
I shook my head and dried my hands.
“Trying to find one?” She faced me with a tube of something. I couldn’t tell what it was, even as she opened the cap.
“Not really,” I answered. My tongue felt weird. Thicker. I grinned for no reason, still tasting the violet, vanilla, and raspberry from my new favorite drink. “There’s a man I find really fucking hot, though.”
Teresa’s eyes lit up. “Tell me about him.” Stepping closer, she stroked the fabric of my V-neck. “So soft. Where did you buy this shirt? Um, and so ripped.” She quirked an eyebrow. She was nutty. I sure as heck wasn’t ripped. “You talk, I make pretty.”
I didn’t know what that meant, nor did I give a shit. What I did care about was rambling when the topic was Henry Bennington. Mostly, I gushed about how fucking hot he was. I wanted him in that dance crowd with me, sweaty bodies pressed together—and what was she doing? I jerked as she brushed her thumb over my cheek, leaving the spot wet.
I peered into the mirror, then squinted to see better. My vision was blurring around the edges. “What the…” I laughed and leaned closer. If it’d been black and I’d been wearing a football helmet, I’d call it war paint. As it was, it was only a streak of glitter. “Did you just put glitter on my face?”
She waggled her eyebrows. “Fabulous, isn’t it?”
I lifted a shoulder and looked again.
“Come on, let’s take a picture,” she suggested.
I groaned. Even in my drunken stupor, bathroom selfies were stupid. But you want to see the glitter on your face. I hesitated, which Teresa took advantage of. She told me to show the camera attitude and then puckered her lips in a kiss to the phone. My mouth twisted up, and before I knew what I was doing, I raised my chin, offered a cocky expression, and smirked a little. With a streak of glitter gel on my cheek.
What had happened to me?<
br />
“Give me your Insta handle. I’ll tag you,” she said.
I actually did have an Instagram, although I never used it. Maybe I should start.
Maybe I really fucking dug this scene.
Just one…more…drink.
Parched and hot, I tried to escape the dance floor and bumped into more people than I could count on the way to the bar. I’d left the bachelorette party with cheek kisses and social media promises, and then I’d found myself dancing with Mario.
A slight annoyance had pierced my buzz because I couldn’t truly enjoy him. Henry was on my mind. I’d caught sight of him a couple times, always by the bar—never alone. He’d bought someone a drink, I was pretty sure. Once, I’d seen him pocketing a slip of paper. Did people still give out their numbers, or was everyone tagged on Facebook or Instagram?
“Violet Haze!” I hollered to a bartender.
And where was Martin? I hadn’t seen him even once.
“I’ll take care of that,” a man said, motioning for the receipt.
“No, it’s fine. Thanks.” I didn’t look at him. Ready to find Henry, I slid a sticky twenty across the bar, and then I gulped down some Violet Haze and searched for my fantasy.
The drink was gone by the time I found him, thankfully alone. He stood by the end of the bar, and in my unreliable state, I thought I detected relief in his eyes. For me, no relief. Just want. He looked too fucking good for words.
I got a little close, not that he seemed to mind, and he dipped down to speak in my ear.
“Are you all right? I sent you a message.”
Shit, I’d missed that. I pulled out my phone and checked it.
I hope you’re being careful. Don’t leave your drink, please. Martin left, but I’ll wait for you.
He knew how to twist my stomach. I wondered if I’d ever met someone as sweet and considerate as he was.
The text was sent twenty minutes ago, and I was stunned to see it was already two in the morning.
“I didn’t know it was that late,” I said.
Henry’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Time flies when you have fun, doesn’t it?”
Evidently. “Did you have fun?” I wanted to get closer and fucking closer. The crowd helped. I didn’t have a choice but to press up against him as people passed behind me. “I saw you weren’t alone.”
A heavily remixed version of a Katy Perry song started, and I inched in farther so I could hear Henry’s reply.
“I had to occupy my time while waiting for you, didn’t I?”
The way he phrased himself had me snapping my gaze upward to meet his. He’d had a few drinks, and I could tell his tongue was a little looser. Did that mean there was a possibility he was interested in me too? If there’d been any indication before, he wouldn’t have had to wait at all.
He grinned softly at my cheek of all places, but then I remembered the glitter. He ghosted a finger over it.
I couldn’t suppress the shudder. The tingles traveled across my cheek.
“I’m glad you had fun, Zachary.”
Katy Perry was singing about aliens ki-ki-kissing and ta-ta-taking her, and it catapulted me into a territory I guess I didn’t have the balls to enter when I was sober. Not without some insurance. Now, it wasn’t an issue.
I blurted out, “Can I buy you a drink?”
As his eyebrows went up, someone bumped into me from behind, sending me straight where I wanted to be, chest-to-chest with Henry.
We stared at each other in the darkness of the club, and I curled my fingers into his shirt along his sides. Henry swallowed hard enough for me to catch his Adam’s apple wobble.
“You gotta know I’m flirting with you.” I grinned, nervous and exhilarated.
He cleared his throat and nodded once, then murmured in my ear. “What I don’t know is why. You can have virtually anyone in here.”
Oh God, I wasn’t sure I could explain when I was two-and-a-half sheets to the wind.
I clutched the front of his shirt, keeping him where he was. “Is it welcome? The flirting.” Because that was all that mattered at the moment.
His hands finally traveled up my sides, and I shivered harder than the first time. His cheek touched mine, and I wanted that kiss so fucking bad.
Henry wasn’t having it. “You’ve had a lot to drink.” That was a no, except he kept me close and didn’t remove his hands from me. “I should get you home.”
Man, I loved that idea. “So take me home with you.”
“Jesus.” He swallowed hard once more, then took out his phone to get an Uber.
“Did Martin meet someone?” I asked.
He nodded.
All right, then.
Six
Hnnghh…
“Zachary.”
Only one person used my name like that. I snuggled closer to Henry’s warmth and slid a hand up his chest. It was so firm and masculine and sexy and perfect.
“Wake up, darling boy. We’re here.”
I grunted and forced one eye to open. The world was spinning, and I thanked whatever higher deity one could believe in that I wasn’t feeling sick. In fact, I felt good. And horny. Horny for Henry. Ha! I giggled and groaned at the same time and let him help me out of the car.
Everything was pitch black. One lamp glowed in the bookstore, one in the window of Martin’s shop. The rest was like…like…like outer space. Except, it was hot here. At least it’s a dry heat, I mimicked the motel chick in a lady voice. In my head, it sounded lady-like, anyway.
“You called me handsome earlier,” I slurred. “Very handsome, even.”
“I did.” He guided me across the dusty, gravelly parking lot and dug out his keys.
“I’m calling you sexy,” I said. “Very sexy.”
He rumbled a low laugh, the sound husky and arousing. “Now I know you’re wasted.”
“But it’s true!” I exclaimed. Out here in the wilderness, my voice sounded too loud. Too hoarse. “You didn’t get it when I put my hand on your thigh. I was all…disgruntled.”
Henry cursed under his breath, and I heard him unlocking a door. We were already there, huh? I hadn’t noticed. Would Eagle greet me in the office? Would Henry lead me up the stairs? I wanted him to. I could trip him and get him into bed that way, maybe.
“Ugh.” I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms. My thoughts were fucked up. If I’d been with a woman, people would’ve called me a predator. It wasn’t any different with a man. “I’m horrified by my thoughts. I thought I would let you know.”
“What’s horrifying about your thoughts?”
“I was thinking…I could trip you and land on top of you in your bed.”
“Good lord, Zach.” He sounded hoarse too. Raspy, almost. “Is that really what you’re thinking?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry.” I squinted in the low light, and I was glad he was leading the way. I would’ve fallen here. Or there, over that stack of books. So many books. “I had a really good time tonight. A woman put glitter on my face, and a guy who wanted to fuck me bought me a drink. But I kept thinking about you. I’m sorry,” I repeated. “Is it because I’m too young? Not hot enough? Inappropriate ’cause of the Ty stuff?”
“Please stop speaking,” he commanded. It came out almost in a growl, and it sent a ripple of lust through me. “I’ve had one drink too many to make responsible decisions.”
Fuck responsible. Fuck me.
If Eagle was around, I didn’t see him.
Through the office, up the stairs. I leaned heavily on Henry to savor the feel of his chest while I could. He was a good man; he wouldn’t shove me off while I was lit.
“You didn’t answer—” Before I could finish my sentence, I was pushed up against the wall in the stairway. Shock flooded me and caused me to gasp. Then I had Henry looming over me, and he grabbed my hand and put it over his crotch.
I whimpered.
He’s so fucking hard.
“This is on you, boy,” he whispered angrily. “You better
behave, or I’ll—”
I reached up and slanted my mouth over his, kissing him firmly. He let out another growl, one of defeat and frustration, and then he was kissing me back hard. Deep. I tasted him on my tongue, whiskey and orange and Bailey’s. My first kiss with a man, an incredibly sexy man.
He made my head spin and swim more than a hundred Violet Hazes could.
I squeezed his hard cock instinctively, and that alone was enough to set me on fire. He grunted into the messy kiss and moved his fingers into my hair. He controlled the kiss. I was along for the ride, and I couldn’t be happier. It was two years of curiosity and pent-up excitement of which Henry was getting the brunt. My dick responded quickly, filling with blood and arousal. For the first time, I cursed the tight jeans. They were in the way.
“Oh, fuck.” I pushed my hips against his and felt his erection tight with mine. And it was everything I craved. Cocks together, male musk, muscles, all things firm and masculine. It was the headiest moment I’d lived through, not to mention dizzying and electrifying.
“Zach.” His whisper was rough, and I could tell he was warring with himself.
“Don’t stop. Please.” I kissed him deeper, if that was possible. “Whatever you do, don’t stop. I know I’m drunk, but this is what I want. I’m fucking desperate for it. For you. You’re so goddamn hot.” I sucked in a breath, the desire spearing me in half. It was sharp and demanding, and if he didn’t give me what I wanted, I’d lose my ever-loving mind. “I can finally do what I want,” I panted. “Fuck, you feel good. I want you so much.”
Henry didn’t say anything, but when I caught a glimpse of his eyes, I saw the wild and crazed need I’d wished to see all night. It evened the score, if only a little. To see him desire me…I needed it. It set me loose, in a way. I didn’t hold anything back. I dragged his bottom lip between my teeth, then kissed my way down his neck. I fell in love with his scruff and his manly scent, the spices and the faint taste and smell of fresh perspiration.
