Working Men Box Set

by J. M. Snyder

  Covertly, he watched as the guy turned to talk to the bartender, asking about a mixed drink and frowning at the reply. Must be his first day on the job, Andy mused. He didn’t seem too sure of himself back there, and when the other bartender offered to take over for him, relief washed across his face. Coming out from behind the bar, he picked up a serving tray and…

  Holy shit, Andy thought, ducking his head over the half-empty glass of rum he nursed. He’s heading this way. Those are our drinks on that tray. Fuck, fuck, fuck. To bolster his courage, he gulped the rest of his drink, the rum burning his throat on its way down to warm his stomach.

  “Hey guys,” the waiter said as he approached. He flashed them a winning smile that Andy instantly returned. His voice was deeper than Andy would’ve imagined, and it rumbled through him like thunder, shaking him apart inside. “Who got the margarita?”

  Palmer raised his hand, his head swiveling to keep his gaze on a pretty redhead who sauntered past their table. “Hey, honey,” he called out, leaning back in his chair, but she ignored him and kept walking.

  “That was cold.” Reese laughed, then glanced up at the waiter. “Mine’s the White Russian.”

  The waiter turned his black eyes Andy’s way, and his smile widened. “That leaves the Captain for you,” he said, setting the full glass of Captain Morgan rum in front of him.

  Andy placed his hand over the waiter’s and smirked when the guy raised one eyebrow at the touch. “What’s your name?” Andy asked. He didn’t care if Reese or Palmer heard him—this close, the man was intoxicating, and he was here to have fun, wasn’t he?

  “Carlos,” the waiter said, his smile slipping a notch when Andy rubbed his fingers gently. “Sir—”

  “Andy,” he said, releasing Carlos’s hand. Staring into those depthless eyes, he said, “I’m Andy.”

  Reese giggled at that, and Carlos glanced around the table, a look of confusion flittering across his features. “But you can call him anytime,” Reese managed before laughing at his own stupid joke.

  Great, Andy thought, watching the way Carlos looked at him distrustfully. Now he thinks we’re picking on him. Beneath the table, he kicked Reese in the shin. His roommate balked. “Hey!”

  “Shut up,” he growled, glaring at his friend. He turned back to Carlos, hoping to apologize, hoping to smile over Reese’s idiot remark and maybe talk to the guy a bit more, ask him what time he got off from work, if he could maybe buy him a drink…

  But the waiter was gone, already moving through the crowded room back to the bar, and Andy sighed when Carlos didn’t even look back at him. “See what you did?” he scowled. There went his evening. “Fuck.”

  * * * *

  An hour later, Palmer stared morosely into the bottom of his glass. “Where are all the girls?” he asked for the tenth time.

  Andy looked around the room, trying to count how many girls he could see who weren’t with anyone. Only a handful, if that. And every single one of them had been turned off by Palmer’s drunken advances. Every time he went to the bar for a refill, he came back alone.

  “There’s one,” Reese suggested, pointing at a raven-haired woman twice their age who had already told Palmer to leave her alone.

  Palmer knocked Reese’s hand onto the table. “Don’t point.” With a lusty sigh, he drank down the rest of his drink. “I guess this just isn’t our night.”

  Andy leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he gave them a baleful stare. “I was doing fine,” he said, glancing over at the bar where Carlos stacked fresh drinks on his serving tray. Was it just Andy, or did it seem as if the waiter were studiously trying not to look their way in the mirror behind the bar? “Until you opened your big mouth. Thanks, Reese.”

  Reese shrugged. “Anytime.”

  Andy kicked at him under the table. “Hey!” his roommate cried. “Stop that.”

  “I had his name,” Andy said. “I could’ve had his room number if you hadn’t made that call me anytime remark.” God, he probably thought Andy was teasing him, the three of them cracking jokes and flirting with the waiter. “You guys are cramping my style.”

  Palmer laughed at that. “Your style?” he asked. “What about mine? I’m batting out all over tonight. Maybe you guys are ruining it for me, too.”

  “You’re ruining it for yourself,” Reese offered. “It’s the Palmer charm. If it doesn’t knock ‘em dead, it nauseates them instead.”

  “Shut up.” Raising his glass to signal a refill, Palmer added, “I should’ve left your ass on campus.”

  Andy watched Carlos sigh as he headed their way. “Speaking of ass,” Reese said, giggling, and Andy kicked him again. “I said stop that. I know where you live.”

  “And we both told you to shut up.” As Carlos approached, Andy looked up at the waiter and smiled his brightest grin. “Hey again.”

  “Hey,” Carlos replied, wary. “You guys want another round of drinks?”

  “Why don’t you join us?” Andy looked around for a fourth chair, but there were none within easy reach. “Just for a drink, some talk, what do you say?”

  Carlos shook his head. “I’m working.”

  Andy tried, “Then maybe when you get off?”

  Beside him, Reese laughed. “Just cut to the chase, Andy.” Grinning at Carlos, he winked and motioned the waiter to lean in closer. In a loud stage whisper, Reese said, “He thinks you have a nice ass.”

  Carlos frowned at him, and then he looked at Andy, hurt and anger mingling in his dark eyes. Without another word, he left. This time he didn’t even bother to look up at them in the mirror when he reached the bar.

  Andy punched Reese’s shoulder as hard as he could. “You bastard!”

  The sound of his fist hitting home was lost in Reese’s giggles, and even Palmer was laughing now. “Jesus Christ, you guys. What the hell is this? Just because you two are striking out, that means I can’t get any action, either?”

  Palmer shrugged. “Something like that.” Digging into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet and tossed a few bucks on the table. “You two ready to go?”

  Andy pushed away from the table in disgust. “Count me out,” he said, rising to his feet.

  “Where are you going?” Reese wanted to know.

  Watching Carlos wipe out glasses at the bar, Andy said, “I’m going to apologize for hanging out with you losers.”

  Reese laughed at that, but Andy didn’t spare them a backward glance. Instead, he crossed the room to lean on the bar beside Carlos, who glanced at him before turning his attention back to the glass in his hand. “Hey,” Andy said softly, reaching out to touch Carlos’s wrist.

  Carlos pulled away. “Hey yourself,” he said, the frown still on his face. Looking over at Andy’s table, he asked, “Did your friends send you over here?”

  “No.” Andy touched Carlos’s wrist again. “I just wanted to say—”

  Pulling away again, Carlos asked, “Is this some kind of joke?”

  He set the glass down hard on the bar and glared at him. A quick look around assured Andy that no one was watching them, but he couldn’t meet the fire in Carlos’s eyes. “Is this funny to you?” the waiter asked.

  “No,” Andy said again, his brow furrowing. “God, no. It’s not what you think. I’m not…” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Carlos. Reese is an ass, okay? He gets that way when he drinks.”

  Carlos’s frown deepened, but the next time Andy touched his wrist, he didn’t pull away. Running his fingers along the smooth skin, Andy whispered, “It’s not what you think at all.”

  In a low voice, Carlos asked, “What is it, then?”

  Andy edged closer to him. He could smell the faint clean scent of a light cologne that made him heady and tugged at a sweet ache blossoming in his groin. “I like you,” he said. He had seen Palmer strike out too many times tonight with the wrong lines, and he might as well be honest.

  Carlos looked up at him, still frowning slightly.

  “I think y
ou’re a very sexy guy,” Andy continued, “and Reese was right, I do think you have a nice ass.”

  Carlos laughed at that.

  Andy told him, “I came on this cruise to have fun. To meet people—to meet guys. And you’re the only one I’ve seen that interests me.” Covering Carlos’s hand with his own, Andy asked softly, “So what time is your shift over with tonight?”

  Carlos sighed. Extracting his hand from Andy’s, he said, “I can’t…” He looked at Andy, his hair, his lips, his hand, before his gaze settled on Andy’s eyes, and he sighed again. “Look, I don’t think this is a good idea. You’re here for what, two weeks? No.”

  Pouting slightly, Andy trailed his finger down Carlos’s own. “Well,” he said, and then he sighed as well. This is all Reese’s fault—it was, wasn’t it? “I’m in room 223 anyway. If you, I don’t know, if you change your mind.”

  He squeezed Carlos’s hand before walking away and hoped the waiter would stop him, maybe call him back, but he didn’t.

  * * * *

  In his room, Andy shucked off his clothes and stepped into the shower, hoping a strong blast of hot water would wash away the stench of alcohol that clung to him, but he left the bathroom door open because he was sure he’d hear a knock soon. Carlos would find his way down to his room and he’d want to come in, maybe talk a little, maybe do something more…

  Andy didn’t want to think about that too much, because the last thing he wanted was to jerk off in the shower when Carlos might be coming and he’d had so much rum tonight, he didn’t think he could get his libido back up if he had to. And he knew Carlos was going to stop by, he just knew it.

  But no one knocked, and Andy let the damp towel fall from his waist as he crawled beneath the covers of his bed. Anger whirled through him—he was mad at his friends for scaring away the only guy he’d seen in a long time that made him hard just looking at him, but madder at himself for being disappointed Carlos never showed up. He didn’t want to sleep alone.

  * * * *

  Andy woke to the sound of the phone ringing shrilly on the table beside his bed. Still half asleep, he fumbled with the receiver until he managed to get it pressed against his ear. “Mmm hello?” he groaned.

  “Get up, lazy ass!”

  It was Reese—did he have to shout this early in the morning? In the background Andy could hear Palmer laughing like crazy. God, what time was it? When he didn’t say anything, Reese asked, “Hey Andy, did you hear me? I said—”

  “I heard you,” Andy muttered.

  Rolling onto his back, the bed sheets tangling around his legs, he blinked in the pale light of the room. “What time is it?”

  “I don’t know,” Reese admitted. “Around noon, maybe. We’re going to the island, so get out of bed and come on. Boat stops in a half hour.”

  The island…right this second Andy didn’t feel like going anywhere that required getting out of bed. He had stayed out too late the night before, and after his shower he waited up for an hour or so, hoping Carlos would pay him a visit. When he finally went to bed, he couldn’t sleep, thinking of that tight ass and those dark eyes, and the way Carlos had laughed when he told him he thought he was sexy.

  And now Palmer and Reese wanted to disembark at one of the islands, and they wanted to drag him along. “I’m not going,” Andy said.

  He could hear the thinly veiled anger in Reese’s voice when he asked, “Are you still mad about last night? Grow up, Andy. We were only playing.”

  “Yeah, and I had to apologize for it,” Andy replied, getting mad again himself. “And I’m sleeping alone, Reese. I could’ve had that guy in here if you hadn’t been such a jerk—”

  “You said you were sorry,” Reese said. “If he’d really wanted to hook up with you, he would’ve bought that. But he didn’t. So get over it already. You bombed out just like the rest of us. Get dressed.”

  “No,” Andy said, stubborn. “I’m not going.”

  Reese sighed wearily. “What are you going to do instead? Lie in bed all day and pout because you missed your chance with the waiter?”

  “Maybe,” Andy said, trying hard not to pout.

  For a minute he didn’t think Reese would reply. He’d hang up and that would piss Andy off even more. And this was only the second day of their cruise? Damn. Two more weeks of this shit before they were back on campus.

  Finally Andy sighed. “I’m going to lie here and think about what I could’ve had, Reese. Is that so bad?”

  “Do you use your right hand or your left hand for that?” Reese wanted to know.

  Through the phone, Andy could hear Palmer’s peals of laughter in the background. “Fuck you.”

  He slammed the receiver back into the phone’s cradle and glared at it, daring it to ring again. If you call me back, he swore, I’ll bite your fucking head off, Reese. Don’t mess with me. Don’t you fucking DARE mess with me. I am NOT in the mood.

  But the phone didn’t ring, and the anger coursing through Andy’s body slowly subsided, leaving him tired and drained. So what if I just want to lie here and think of Carlos all day?

  Untangling himself from the bed sheets, he kicked one leg out from under the covers. The air in his cabin seemed unseasonably warm for December, but then again, this was the Caribbean. Gray light slanted through the curtains that covered the portholes in his room, casting a pale sheen over his bare leg. He couldn’t believe it was almost noon.

  He didn’t feel like getting up and getting dressed. He didn’t want to run into his friends, and didn’t want to be dragged onshore to some island where he wouldn’t be able to appreciate the half-naked men lounging on the shore. Next cruise, he promised himself, if there is a next one, it better be all gay. No more straight guys crimping my groove. Hell, after last night? Reese and Palmer would be lucky if he even went to the grocery store with them any time in the near future. Given the mood he was in, he didn’t care if he never saw either of them ever again.

  Rubbing one hand distractedly along the soft skin of his exposed hip, he wondered what Carlos was up to at the moment. Did he think of me last night? Did he even bother to remember my name, or my room number? When he closed his eyes, Andy recalled in vivid detail those dark, soulful eyes and that slow smile, the thick patch of curls pulled back from that slim face, the way those loose pants had pulled so tightly across a sweet, plump ass. With a mind of its own, his hand drifted beneath the covers to stroke along his inner thigh in a long, gentle rhythm that made Andy sigh at the touch, even if it was his own.

  Reaching for the phone again, Andy dialed room service and ordered something to eat. His stomach growled at the thought of food, and it was a cruise, after all. He might as well live it up. Spreading his legs further apart, he let his fingers dance over his hardening erection, his thoughts drifting back to Carlos and the way those gauzy white pants had cradled his round buttocks, the way his skin had felt beneath Andy’s fingers…the same fingers that now caressed below his scrotum and sent shivers of pleasure through his body.

  Today it’s my left hand, Reese, Andy thought lazily, cupping his balls and squeezing gently. When it should be HIS hand, and that’s your fault, you scared him away and now I’ll never see him smile when I press him back to the pillow, I’ll never hear him gasp my name, I’ll never feel him in me when he comes. Those images tugged at his groin, and his fingers enclosed over his thick cock, sliding easily up and down the hardening length. Andy closed his eyes and moaned when his palm closed over the tip of his dick, already damp. He was close, just a few more minutes, and he thought of Carlos’s smile, his eyes, the way those pants had pulled against his thighs when he walked…

  A knock on the cabin door interrupted him. It was just a quick tap, but Andy’s hand froze around his erection. Shit. Maybe it’s the guys. He really didn’t want to stop now, not when he was close to coming—three seconds more would give him the release he needed. Squeezing himself, he dared to moan a little louder and cleared his throat before calling out, “Who is it?”
/>   “Room service,” a man’s voice replied.

  Andy sighed. Who would’ve thought room service could be so fast? And now he was throbbing in his hand, and naked to boot. He didn’t even want to think about pulling on a pair of boxers, cramming his hard length into the confines of pants, that would hurt too damn much. Andy didn’t want to go through the hassle when just a few minutes more he’d come and it would all be over with…

  “Sir?” The knock came again, louder this time. “Room service. Did you order breakfast?”

  “Yeah,” Andy called out, but the word was lost in a moan as his fingers brushed through the kinky hair at his crotch, tickling along soft skin. It seemed surreal, carrying on a conversation as he fondled himself. He felt twelve again, jerking off in his bedroom while his mother yelled at him to unlock his bedroom door. “Can’t you just leave it out there?”

  He saw the door knob jiggle. “I really shouldn’t…”

  No, of course not. “Can you bring it in, then?” He called out. “Or something?”

  As a key scraped into the lock, Andy thrust into his hand, hoping to speed things along and get this over with already. One hard fuck, another, his hand massaging his length as he prayed, Come on, please…

  Then the door opened, and Andy’s fingers clenched around his cock with an almost painful grip as he recognized the waiter from the night before. Carlos shot Andy a quick, unreadable glance as he entered the room, pushing a small food cart in front of him. “I could get fired for this,” he muttered.

  “Oh God,” Andy moaned.

  Carlos flashed him a quick grin. “Breakfast in bed?” he asked in that deep voice Andy had heard in his dreams.

  He wouldn’t come, he swore to himself he wouldn’t come, not now, not with Carlos standing right here, but it was hard to keep his hand still as his gaze strayed down the guy’s body. Releasing his erection, Andy pressed his dick down between his legs, hoping it couldn’t be seen beneath the covers. “Carlos,” he said with a shaky laugh. An involuntary squirt of pre-cum trickled down his thighs. “I didn’t expect…”