Nice Guys Collection With Added Bonus Material

by Kindle Alexander

  Mitch watched as the bartender worked and handed his waiting shot to the hot, young country boy. How had this gorgeous guy flown under the radar? And a better question, why wasn’t he out on the dance floor?

  “Drink this,” Mitch said, shoving the shot in the guy’s hand. The bartender placed two more shots in front of him. He absently dug another twenty out of his pocket, not even paying attention to the change being offered back.

  “What is it?” the guy asked.

  “Does it matter?” Mitch challenged. “Drink it. And this one too.”

  Mitch downed his in one swallow. The guy followed suit and then drank the other one, before slamming the glass down on the polished wood. It was liquid courage. Mitch tossed the beer chaser, encouraging the kid to drink his, and he did. Mitch placed both empty bottles back on the bar before he grabbed the guy’s hand and pulled him up.

  “We’re dancing,” Mitch informed Mr. Ball Cap, ignoring the list of objections and excuses he spewed. It was a forced deal since the guy fought him every step he made, but Mitch wasn’t taking no for an answer. It took a minute to make it to the edge of the dance floor. He wasn’t a big drinker, so the shot had already begun to work.

  When the guy finally broke free of his hold, he flipped around. He was taller than Mitch realized, maybe taller than his own six-four frame. Mitch couldn’t let him get away, that just wasn’t in his plan. He reached out, hooking an arm around the guy’s waist before he could bolt too far off.

  The move caught Ball Cap off guard with the hold turning into a full body deal as Mitch nudged him with the weight of his body out into the middle of the dance floor.

  “It’s easier when you just take the plunge. You know, like a Band-Aid. Always best if you just rip it free. You’re here for a reason. Be okay with it.” Those words weren’t whispered. The music made it impossible to not yell them from behind, but it stopped the guy’s struggles. Mitch didn’t let him go. Instead, he turned him around so they were face-to-face on the dance floor.

  Mitch kept him close, pressing the front of his body against the guy’s chest. His arms held Ball Cap caged in, and damn was he hot, far more gorgeous than Mitch had first realized. He smelled fresh, clean, like the calming light rain that falls after a summer thunderstorm, mixed with a hint of fresh cut evergreens. He leaned in and inhaled. Damn, Mitch loved the smell of rain.

  “You’re fucking hot,” Mitch yelled, and he could feel the young guy sported a pretty impressive bulge in his jeans. So did Mitch.

  “Now move. We have a little ways to go before I relieve what’s going on in those Levi’s.” Mitch grinned as he watched deep blue eyes widen at that statement. He moved his hips rubbing his erection back and forth across the younger man’s. His smile grew wider, among other things.

  “They’re Wranglers, and I like your dimples. I haven’t been dancing in a long time, thanks for not taking no for an answer.” The guy still hadn’t moved, but he hadn’t left either.

  “Good, I like for hot twenty-six-year-olds to dance with me, and just so you know, I’m used to getting what I want,” Mitch purred and ran his hand down the guy’s chest to the side of his hips, urging him to move. Mitch saw the moment Mr. Ball Cap gave in and laughed. Probably the alcohol had helped him too. The guy took over the movement for himself.

  He had a beautiful smile and seemed to relax into the sway.

  Relieved Blue Eyes wasn’t going to leave, Mitch moved both hands forward, sliding his hands under the guy’s shirt and lifted the T-shirt up and over his head. He wasn’t disappointed. The guy was a little fairer than Mitch, but built precisely like he had imagined. Wide chest, thick well-defined pecs dusted with light blond hair, perfectly ripped abs, and a tempting blond treasure trail disappearing into tight well-worn jeans. He smiled at the impressive art work decorating the guy’s hard body. He’d always been into tattoos, but the tattoos were just icing on an already enticing piece of cake. He would enjoy exploring each and every inked line with his tongue. Yeah, Mr. Ball Cap would do just fine.

  What was he thinking? From the moment Cody walked into this club, he understood the magic of the place, experienced with awe the energy that drew the massive crowds and felt better for having been there. But the longer he stayed, the more he felt a little in over his head. He was just a country bumpkin’ compared to these sophisticated patrons. His own insecurities had him stuck to the far reaches of the club on purpose. Guys like him weren’t seen in places like these, but damn, had he wanted to have a good time tonight. And this club’s legacy should have been the place to make that happen.

  The minute that guy walked inside the front doors, Cody sat back and just stared. He was tall, dark, and exceedingly handsome with all that brawn and a killer smile. When he’d come to the bar and focused on Cody, training those amber eyes his way, Cody hardened to painful degrees. It had taken everything to keep himself nonchalant because that same man who currently rubbed about seventy-five percent of his body against Cody was his wet dream walking. Someone who could make him lose his mind and quite possibly his morals just to get a single taste.

  Cody had ordered his second beer of the night, just to cool off, when he watched this one’s shirt come off. All those well-conditioned muscles, covered in some of the finest ink he’d ever seen, began to move and flex to whatever dance motion he made.

  Now, as he danced, Cody weighed the decision to ask this guy to come back to his room for a few hours because what happened in Dallas, stayed in Dallas. The problem with that plan had to do with how completely this city filled itself with officers this weekend. His own father and middle brother were somewhere in town partying it up all in the name of unity and support of the badge—whatever that meant.

  Cody had never hid who he was as a person; he’d just not ever really rubbed his sexual orientation in his peers’ faces. He’d learned at a young age the importance of keeping his off-duty private life to himself. Things like public displays and adding a plus one didn’t really happen for him. He was laid back, easygoing, and pretty much unattached by most people’s standards. His buddies were the guys he grew up with, his dating life was separate from them, and stayed in the confines of downtown Austin.

  He’d gotten brave tonight, apparently a little too comfortable in his world, and ventured out. What he hadn’t expected was for the hottest guy in the room to take notice of him. When had that ever happened before? Never.

  “I’m Mitch. Tell me your name,” the guy said against his ear. The words and warm breath danced across his skin like a tender caress. Cody closed his eyes and let the feeling take him away.

  He let his inhibitions go and let the fantasy take root. His mouth actually watered at the prospect of pushing down the dark jeans and investigating every inch of that tempting flesh for himself.

  This Mitch was seriously hot.

  It had taken a while for Cody to pin Mitch down as law enforcement, which was odd. He was pretty good at detecting who was who. Mitch had the short hair thing going, but not the attitude. Since Cody came from a long line of officers, he knew that I’m-a-badass-just-ask-me persona well, and Mitch didn’t put that out to the world, but being a badass did radiate from every pore of his body.

  A slow song began, and long, beefy arms engulfed Cody, drawing him in against a solid chest and hard body. Cody swayed to the music as Mitch’s thick, solid cock rubbed against his. Mitch’s hand snaked up his back, pushing his head down against his shoulder. He closed his eyes, wrapped himself around Mitch, and concentrated on breathing heavily as the spicy scent of Mitch’s cologne eased his nerves.

  The room began to spin. He’d most definitely had too much to drink. It was just such a turn-on to be wrapped in someone’s arms as the song played around them. Under the weight of such a powerful attraction, he let himself go, just feeling the moment.

  “Telling me your name wouldn’t kill you.” Mitch drew his head back so they were face-to-face. “Did you hear me tell you my name’s Mitch? I’d really like to hear you use it
when I’m fucking you later.” Mitch didn’t bat an eye as he spoke. Those perfect eyes held his, challenging him to refuse the suggestion. Cody couldn’t respond, because at the moment, he really wanted to take him up on his offer. His ass clenched, his heart thundered in his chest, and his knees threatened to give out at the thought of Mitch fucking him hard and fast.

  He loved how sure and direct Mitch acted, and his dick jerked in agreement. They fit well together. Cody liked the idea of having someone that could match him move for move. And he was willing to bet Mitch wouldn’t hold back in bed. He could give Cody exactly what he’d come here to get tonight, even if he hadn’t known what that was until just this minute.

  “Are you from around here?” Mitch asked. Cody shook his head, trying to clear the image from his mind. He’d decided early on that he wasn’t going to answer any questions. He stayed silent, letting Mitch’s deep rich voice lull him.

  “Come on, tell me something about yourself. I know you’re law enforcement,” Mitch spoke against his ear, and he clearly knew what he was doing. Cody’s body reacted to everything he did. Mitch had to have been out for many years, because he was too comfortable and sure of himself not to have been.

  This time, when Cody didn’t answer, Mitch arched his hips, grinding against his aching erection, and the warmth consumed him. The pressure of Mitch’s splayed hands on the small of his back forced him to return the grind. He was like a freaking dog in heat, and so out of his league. The grin spreading across Mitch’s face let him know he was in trouble. It only took another shift of hips before he matched Mitch, humping him right there on the dance floor. Damn, it felt good. Too fucking good.

  Something interrupted the erotic feel of Mitch’s skilled hips.

  “Hey, buddy, we’re out,” a man yelled in their direction. Mitch cocked his head to the side, and Cody followed the gaze. His eyes landed on one of the best-looking men he’d ever laid eyes on, besides of course, the one that currently had him wrapped in his arms. The guy smiled at Mitch and lifted a hand and got even better-looking than before. Damn, Mitch traveled in fine circles.

  Then recognition dawned.

  “You’re Colt Michaels,” Cody almost yelled the words. The expressions crossing his face had to be comical.

  “Come on, we’ll walk you out,” Mitch yelled, grabbing Cody’s hand tightly, tugging him toward the door. They barely cleared the front entrance before all Cody’s youthful hero worship bubbled to the top. Cody let go of the tight hold Mitch had on him and extended a hand to Colt.

  “I’m a huge fan. It seems like I’ve followed your career my whole life. I’m from the same area you grew up in.” He shook Colt’s hand.

  “Thank you. You’re from central Texas?” Colt asked.

  “Yes, sir. I’m from Kylie’s Corner. It’s a small town outside of Buda, where you grew up. I live in Austin now.”

  “That area always feels like home. Meet my husband. Jace, this is…” Colt hesitated.

  “I’m Cody. It’s nice to meet you,” he said, extending a hand to Jace, pumping him with the same amount of vigor he had Colt’s.

  “Hi, Cody.” Jace smiled that warm, supersexy grin he’d used on Mitch just a few minutes earlier, and he found himself a little transfixed.

  “Cody, it was a pleasure to meet you. We’ve got a couple of blocks to walk to get back to our car. Mitch, I’ll leave the laundry room door open for you. Maybe leave a T-shirt down there so you don’t catch a chill,” Colt teased. For the first time since they were outside, everything settled into Cody. He knew why Mitch seemed so familiar to him. He remembered the details of the Colt Michaels accident and investigation. He’d tracked that case closely, especially once he learned that Colt had come out. The puzzle pieces started falling in place, and Cody’s gaze shot toward Mitch. The guy that was already so far outside of his league had to be Mitch Knox, the deputy US marshal who helped Colt in Hawaii. Damn! This night just kept getting better and better.

  Mitch winked at Cody.

  “Roger that,” Mitch said, staring at Cody, but talking to Colt.

  “Goodnight,” Jace replied. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Jace turning Colt away from watching them.

  “You’re a deputy marshal, aren’t you?” Cody asked, hoping Colt and Jace were out of ear shot.

  “I see you know the case.” Mitch gave him a half-assed, cocky tooth-filled grin before he handed Cody back his ball cap. Cody looked down at the hat in his hands, that being the whole reason he’d followed Mitch out onto the dance floor to begin with. He slid his hat back in place on his head. The move was more a symbolic gesture, designed to create space between them. If that even made any sense. Whatever, to Cody it made perfect sense. He shifted thoughts in his head once the invisible barriers were now set firmly between them.

  For Cody, that Colt Michaels incident had kind of changed his life, made him consider things differently. Colt’s case had definitely reaffirmed his lifelong convictions of wanting to make a difference in the hate of this world. Although Mitch was the hottest thing Cody might have ever laid eyes on, and he had a strong, powerful attraction to the guy, this thing they were doing tonight was all wrong. At this point, Cody couldn’t risk his reputation and fucking a high-profile deputy US marshal sure didn’t seem like a good idea.

  Damn, how had he let this night get so far out of control? Surely Texas Ranger wannabe’s didn’t sit up in gay bars waiting for the first guy to come along and pick them up. He’d made a bad judgment call coming here tonight.

  Chapter 8

  Mitch stepped back and fought the pissed off feeling. He was jealous. What? No, surely he wasn’t… Right? Fucking A! He was jealous! He’d been dancing with this Cody for a couple of hours, bought at least fifty dollars’ worth of alcohol trying to loosen him up, and Colt got more out of him in two minutes than he’d gotten so far.

  Mitch made a huge effort to mentally shrug these feelings off. To his core, the fundamental parts of Mitch’s personality were the opposite of jealous—whatever that meant. He didn’t do that green-eyed monster thing—ever. As he watched this whole exchange play out in front of him, Mitch did something he never did. He forced himself to act reasonably.

  Through his own internal dialog, he followed Cody’s hand slide inside his front jean pocket, and his first thought erased all the others floating through his head. Cody was going to adjust himself. Since Mitch always found that move sexy, he lost focus as he watched the bulge become more defined as the material stretched across that impressive cock. His mouth actually watered. Mitch had already felt the evidence showing Cody wasn’t a small man. He’d ground against him enough tonight to know his dick was large and in charge, but to see the proof so clearly outlined in Cody’s jeans turned his shit on. It took a second, but he kicked back in gear when he saw car keys pulled out.

  “Where are you going?” Mitch asked. Something told him this was a sudden goodbye, not an invitation to ride along back to his hotel.

  “Thanks for the dance and the drinks,” Cody started and stepped back. The move was definitely designed to put both literal and figurative distance between them. Panic seemed to show across Cody’s face as he said the words out loud. Why panic? That made no sense. Mitch was certain the guy had been just as into him as he’d been into Cody.

  “Why’re you freezing up on me? I’m not gonna attack you.” Mitch cut to the chase. There wasn’t much time to do anything more than confront this head on before Cody bolted. He certainly couldn’t run after the guy, right?

  “I’m not.” Cody bit his lip. Right then, Mitch wondered if Cody had done those subtle moves on purpose. Coy, shy blushes and inviting lip bites… Sex on a stick came to mind, and Mitch’s dick begged him to make this right.

  “You can’t leave now. You drank too much. My car’s right over there. Give yourself time to sober up,” Mitch reasoned. Where had those words come from? Actually, where was all this coming from? Cody had participated tonight, but he was clearly uncomfortable, and Mitch
never got involved with self-conflicted types. That just reeked of drama and who had time for that?

  Okay, Mitch was seriously arguing with himself. When had that ever happened?

  Actually, this all probably came from Cody’s physique. He was built like a brick house. In all likelihood, that much hotness scrambled Mitch’s brain. But, damn, would they fit well together tonight. Guys like Cody didn’t come around every day. It would take a lot for Mitch to wear him down. But there was something different about Cody. Hell, he sensed it the moment their eyes connected. He wanted to fuck him, no question there, but now he also wanted to know his story. He needed to get to know Cody and not just physically.

  Shit! No, he didn’t want to know more about Cody. That was just dumb.

  This whole internal battle he waged irritated him and he scowled. It would be in his best interest to let Cody walk away. He still had time to find someone else to fuck tonight. Closeted, Dudley Do-Right types took too much time and patience. He liked his sex to be mutually hard, fast, and aggressive. Multiple times, no strings attached. Hell, what were a few bite marks in the name of a good time?

  Surprising even himself and mostly definitely going against his current inner thoughts, Mitch reached out and grabbed Cody’s car keys, snatching them away, then started to walk toward his car. He placed the keys he’d just swiped in his front pants pocket. Cody would have to follow to get them back. No matter how badly he wanted to, Mitch never looked over his shoulder to see how Cody had reacted to that one.

  “Hey, you can’t just take my truck keys,” Cody yelled, and the best Mitch could tell, he hadn’t moved from where he’d been standing. He would though, Mitch was certain.

  “Looks like I did,” Mitch called back. “You’ll thank me later.” He clicked his own car’s key fob, unlocking both the doors and guiding himself to his rental by the flash of taillights, because right this minute, he couldn’t even remember what the car looked like.