by Jacobs, Kyle
Strangely, he found himself smiling, thinking of Oliver and the sensuous taste of his lips.
Chapter 6
Oliver
Oliver certainly did not expect Logan to check in on him that night, but when there was no sign of him Oliver still felt a little hurt.
Here we go again, he thought. Bikers caught up in their own crap, never mind anyone else. He should take it as a sign. Moreover, a blessing. A sign to leave, maybe?
He thought of their heavy make out session. Logan's mouth hungrily kissing his. Logan's strong hands all over him. Their bodies pressed together.
Phew. Maybe he should give this guy a shot, at least. He was in town after all, so why not see what happens? But staying in town meant money, of which he had little to none.
So, the next morning, he got up early, skipping breakfast. Instead, he wandered around the neighborhood looking for a pay-phone. Finding one was far more challenging in this day and age since everyone had a mobile phone of their own. But he couldn't risk using his new phone, nor the hotel phone. Each could be traced back to his location, if anyone was looking for him.
And he knew Gavin would, and had the means to do so.
He found a phone on the side of a liquor store, plastered with graffiti. After a vain attempt to clean off the receiver, he made a long distance collect call to his mother. As he waited for his mother to accept the charges he felt his heart in his throat.
His mother would be worried, not just in general, but even more so after Oliver asked for a cash infusion.
Soon, his mother answered and accepted the charge.
"Oh, honey. Are you alright?" His mother's soothing voice came from clear across the country. It always made Oliver feel warm inside.
"Yeah, mom. Everything is fine. I just need some money."
"Again?" his mother said, and Oliver felt a guilty sting.
"Yes, mom. Sorry, but I just need to get by until I get paid." A little white lie never hurt.
"You got work, honey? Oh, that's great. Doing what?"
Forget that he didn't actually have the stripper job yet, but there was no way Oliver was going to tell his mother about it. He hoped his mother never found out he was a highly skilled peeler. It would just keep conversations manageable.
"I'm a barista, mom."
"A what?"
"I make fancy coffees. Pays pretty good, too. Or will once I get my first check."
That was enough to win his mother over. They arranged for a transfer, where Oliver could easily pick it up at a local agency.
As they said their good byes his mother suddenly said, "Oh, dear. David called for you."
Oliver froze. "David? Are you sure?"
"Oh, it wasn't me who answered, it was your father who spoke to him. Let me ask." His mother fumbled with the phone, and Oliver could hear the low grumbling that was his father's voice. Oliver was grateful he didn't have to speak to him himself.
His mother returned. "Not David, dear. It was a man named Gavin."
Now Oliver was in full panic mode. Of course, Gavin would try to wheedle information out of his ageing parents. But he could have called using another name. Using his real name was meant as a message to Oliver.
It was him telling him, I'm looking for you.
"Did dad say anything to him?"
"No, dear. Should he have?"
"No, not at all. That's good mom. Thanks for the money. I promise to pay you back as soon as I can."
"That's all right. As long as it helps."
They said their goodbyes, and hung up. Oliver suddenly felt very alone. He looked around, checking the streets, as if Gavin's blue mustang would be right there, waiting for him.
But it wasn't.
Keep your head together. He can't find you here, and he won't.
He picked up the money, which really wasn't much to begin with, and went for a simple breakfast. Coffee and a donut. Breakfast of champions. As he sat in the coffee shop, watching the traffic pass by outside, he thought of what Gavin had done. It was quite a crappy thing to do, involving his parents. But par for the course when it came to Gavin and his manipulative schemes. Gavin wanted him back, and in a big way.
But if Oliver was someone else's, that would be less of a problem. And he knew exactly the kind of man who could deal with Gavin, and even the rest of his crew if needed.
And it just so happened, Oliver was absolutely smitten with this individual.
Logan.
Again, he thought of their hook up. Hot stuff. Deeply passionate, even for a couple of strangers. He tried not to think to much about Logan not showing up again last night. He realized they had not even exchanged numbers. He didn't want to push for it as he left, but had Logan avoided that on purpose?
He shook his head. There was only one real way to find out for certain how serious this guy was, or could be. If Hot Rocks was Logan's second home, then maybe Oliver should just head over there that night and check things out. What could it hurt to see?
Satisfied with his plan, he returned to the dreary motel. He was bound and determined to be the hottest guy in that bar.
Logan will never know what hit him!
At 9:30 that evening he stepped out of the taxi and stood before the blazing neon sign of Hot Rocks. Already, a small line up had started. He got in line, apprehensive of all the looks he was getting.
"Oliver?" came a voice.
Oliver turned and saw Eddie walking toward him, with a couple of other guys. All were dressed up for a serious night on the town.
Eddie then engulfed Oliver in a big hug. "Oliver, baby. I wasn't sure I would see you again."
Oliver smiled, not entirely sure what to make of Eddie's behaviour. His last image of Eddie was of him glaring from the side of the road.
"I'm still here," Oliver said. "Thought I would come down and see what this place was like at night and full of people."
Eddie's friends were watching him intently, maybe sizing him up as potential competition.
"Well, I'm glad you're here. Let's party it up!" Eddie pulled him out of the line and toward the door. "We don't wait in line at this place. Not dressed like this!" They all laughed.
Eddie didn't even have to speak to the bouncer at the door, who simply waved them through with a smile.
Inside was loud and crowded. Just as Oliver had expected. Nearly all the tables were taken, especially the ones closest to the stage. A muscular guy was swinging naked around a pole on the stage, much to the delight of the audience.
Oliver immediately started to look around for Logan, but it was just to crowded, and Oliver was a little too short. Eddie pulled him along. "We got a table just for us!" he shouted over the noise.
He was led to a large booth along a side wall, which was on the highest tier. Here they could see the entire bar. Oliver sat down along with the other guys, Eddie snuggling up against him.
"Pretty wild, huh?" Eddie said.
Oliver nodded. This was definitely one of the more higher end establishments he'd been in. He looked down at the stage, as the stripper finished up his set, bent over and wiggling a magnificent butt in the face of a customer who was waving dollar bills at him.
Oliver very much wanted to be on that stage. All that money would be really helpful right now. But he had a purpose tonight, other than money.
Logan.
He peered about, trying to locate him. And then he caught his breath. There Logan was near a back corner. He looked just as handsome as before, perhaps more. He was locked in an intense conversation with Parker.
Oliver really wanted to saunter over and surprise him, but it looked like he was all business at the moment. That was fine. Oliver would wait.
Eddie was watching Oliver and saw he was eyeballing Logan. Eddie leaned over and said, "We need to get sloshed! Drinks! Booze!" He shouted at the waitress. Soon a tray of colorful drinks was brought over. As the guys started to down them, Oliver sipped his drink. He wanted to be mostly sober when he talked to Logan.
Bu
t not that sober when I rip his clothes off, he thought with a smile.
"Oh, come on now," Eddie said, looking a little offended. "That is not how we party here, girlfriend. Here," He plopped a vodka shooter in front of them both. "You gotta do this one."
"No, I couldn't. I didn't really eat today," Oliver said. Which wasn't even an lie.
"Uh uh," Eddie said, more insistent. "Let's do this. Everyone!" The other guys grabbed a shooter each and slung them back. Oliver relented and did the same. The alcohol burned as it slid down his throat. Not all that unpleasant a sensation.
Eddie introduced the other guys, but Oliver was terrible with names. And the booze didn't help.
The guy sitting next to him, named Cole, started chatting Oliver up. Everyone was joking and laughing.
Eddie nudged Oliver. "Here's a looker for ya."
Oliver looked up at a large, very handsome man who approached their table. He was taken aback at how chiseled his features were, and his movie star good looks.
Wow, he thought. They sprout up everywhere here. He couldn't tell how much of that was the booze or his libido.
The large man leaned over and offered his hand to Oliver, "Hey, you're new here. What's your name, cutie?"
Oliver took his hand, which engulfed his completely. It was calloused and warm. "Oliver."
The big man smiled standing up. "Friends call me Ryder. You having a good time?"
Oliver nodded, feeling his world swim a little. Strangely Oliver seemed fixated on Ryder's large pectorals which bulged beneath his tight t-shirt. "Yup!" he declared.
Ryder grinned. "Well, you let me know when you want a better one." He walked away to disappear into the crowd.
All the guys at the table made teasing noises, and everyone laughed.
"Hot, huh?" Eddie said.
"Yeah," Oliver said. "Who is he, anyway?"
"He's with the Club," Eddie said. "An up and comer. Maybe President one day."
Oliver was impressed. But after all this booze, he figured he would be impressed with anything right about now.
"I know that's a big deal to them," Oliver said. His words were starting to slur.
"You do?" Eddie asked with a smile. "How?"
"Oh, I used to be hooked up with a guy in the Silver Hounds," he said. It came out as more boastful than it felt.
"Who?" Eddie asked, a little insistent.
"His name was Gavin. A complete dick, really," Oliver said. And as soon as the words left his mouth he regretted it. He really wanted to forget that part of his life. That was the past. This was the present.
He looked around for Logan again. He saw him moving through the crowd, but it looked like he was going to miss Oliver's table. Oliver pushed himself out of the booth.
"I got to hit the bathroom," Oliver said.
"I'll come," Eddie said.
Oliver wanted to tell him it was alright but already Logan was moving past so he hurried through the crowd.
Logan was on a cell phone, talking intently. Oliver thought it was funny that anyone would try and hold a conversation in this place, let alone on a phone. But Logan was fully focused on his chat.
Oliver popped out of the crowd, directly in front of him. He grinned, almost overjoyed to see him again.
Logan, phone firmly attached to his ear glanced in his direction, gave a slight nod, and kept on walking. He passed him and vanished into the crowd heading toward the front door.
Oliver's heart plummeted in his chest. What the hell?
"They can be real assholes, you know?" Eddie said suddenly from beside him.
"Yeah," Oliver said, getting upset. "Tell me about it." He tried to spot Logan, see if he realized his mistake and was coming back, but he couldn't see him anymore.
"He sure likes that phone," Oliver said.
"They all do," Eddie said. "Come on. Let's dance!"
Oliver allowed himself to be pulled along, with no resistance. He didn't know what to think now. Was Logan just playing him? He was convinced Logan was into him, even more than a casual encounter would entail.
He and Eddie danced. Oliver wanted to forget what happened and enjoy himself. Let Logan have his phone, and his business dealings. He was going to have a little fun, at least.
After a few dances, they returned to the booth. Oliver was feeling a little better but his frustration was growing. Then he was struck with a simple idea.
"Do you have his number?" Oliver asked Eddie.
Eddie's eyebrows popped up in surprise. "Girlfriend, you know the rules. Those guys give their numbers out, we don't." That was true, but Oliver suspected there was more to Eddie's lack of willingness to share Logan's number.
Oliver sulked. He knew how paranoid Bikers were. Gavin was certainly one of the worst. Changing phone numbers every couple of days. Oliver had given up even trying to keep track of them which suited him just fine.
But if he could just talk to Logan, he could get a better idea of his intentions. Besides, he just wanted to hear his smooth voice again.
As he tried to content himself with watching other people enjoying themselves, dancing and having a good time, he noticed Ryder nearby, talking animately on the phone.
He looks even more muscular than before, Oliver thought. Or am I just getting more tipsy?
Suddenly, Oliver was struck with an idea, watching Ryder.
He shook his head, no way, he thought, don't go there. That would be an evil plan. But the more he watched Ryder the more it felt like it would work.
He sauntered over to Ryder, the booze in his system making him wobble. As he got closer he could actually hear Ryder shouting over the music to be heard on the phone.
"It's done? It worked? Awesome! Ha ha!" Ryder said loudly.
He noticed Oliver next to him and he straightened up. "Yeah," he said. "I gotta run. Things just got better on this end." He hung up and grinned at Oliver. "Well, hello again, cutie."
"Good news?" Oliver asked.
When Ryder looked perplexed Oliver pointed at his cell phone. "Did you just get some good news?"
For the briefest of moments a look of panic crossed Ryder's face, then it was replaced again with a big smile and a chuckle. "Always good news with me," he said. "But do you want to know the best news of all?" He slipped an arm around his waist.
Oliver leaned into him, playing along. "No, what?"
"I'm here with you," he said. He slipped his cell phone into his back pants pocket and put his other hand on Oliver's hip.
They both smiled at each other. Oliver caught a glimpse of Eddie out of the corner of his eye. The other man looked satisfied with something, then vanished into the crowd.
"So, you're a Macabre Jester, huh?" Oliver asked, knowing full well he wasn't.
Ryder never lost his grin. "Well, not a full member yet. But I'm tight with them. They rely on me for all sorts of stuff."
"How tight are you with them? You could just call any of them up, whenever you wanted?" Oliver asked. This time Oliver slipped a hand around Ryder's waste and rested it on his buttock.
Ryder was thrilled now, caught up in this sexy guy's attention. "Yup. I'm pretty vital to them. In fact, it works best if I'm not patched in, yet," Ryder said. "For legal reasons."
He sure knows how to lay it on thick, Oliver thought. But this was all good. Play up to a man's ego and you can almost always get what you wanted.
Oliver gently pulled away from Ryder, who started to look a little confused, if not disappointed.
"Follow me," Oliver said, and slowly turned and walked away. Oliver made sure his hips were emphasizing his request. Oliver glanced behind him, and sure enough Ryder was firmly in tow like a horny dog.
They both arrived at the manager's office door. "Is he here?" Oliver asked.
"Nah," Ryder said, understanding his intent. He opened the door and lead him inside. "He's still recovering in the hospital. The idiot."
As Oliver entered he closed the door and flicked on the lights.
Oliver looked around.
There was no evidence a man losing his dignity in here. Or that Oliver was about to lose his in the next few minutes.
But it would be worth it.
"I'll get these," Ryder said, moving over to the inner window blinds, which were open to the bar. Oliver looked down at Ryder's butt. The cell phone was outlined snugly in his pants pocket.
