Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Sure enough, Ryder drew back and managed to extricate himself from the customer’s grabby arms without offending the man or risking his tip.
“See?”
I grunted. “He’s pushing boundaries, and one of these times, he’s going to fuck up and go too far.” God, I sounded like a middle-aged father, annoyed he had to wait up half the night for his kid to come home.
Trevor sighed. “He’s not that bad, you know. He’s early for every shit, works hard, learns fast, and the customers fucking love him. You might find him tolerable if you give him half a chance.”
What the hell? How had I missed Trevor giving Ryder his stamp of approval? I spun, dislodging Trevor’s hold on me. My friend was kneeling on a barstool, which explained how he’d been able to rest his chin on my shoulder while being six inches shorter than me. He wore his favorite harness, the one he always danced in on Wednesdays. It was funny how, as cute as Trevor was, I’d never looked at him nearly naked and wanted to lick him all over.
“No, I won’t. He’s an asshole, Trev. The whole reason he sought out this job was to fuck with me. You forget I know him.”
Trevor frowned and shifted so he was no longer kneeling but sitting on the stool. “Babe, you knew him in high school. Most people are assholes in high school. Don’t you think you’re clinging to this grudge too hard?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Sure, I hadn’t told Trevor the details of why Ryder took this job, nor had I mentioned his ridiculous idea for a bet, but the way he sided with Ryder still stung. Trevor was my friend. My close friend and my only one. “I had no idea you liked him so much.” Stepping back, I shook my head. “My break’s over. I gotta get back to work. Thanks for having my back, though.”
With that cheap parting shot, I stalked toward the staff room to stow my water bottle.
“Oh, come on, Alex,” Trevor shouted after me. “Don’t be mad. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
I lifted a hand in a half-see-you-later, half-it’s-fine wave. Trevor would stress all night if he thought I was truly mad at him.
“You better come to Parker’s party Sunday night. I’ll show up and drag you out of your house if I have to.”
Ugh, a party on a Sunday night. Who wanted to go to a party on a Sunday night? People who worked on all the good party nights, that’s who. I’d go, not because Trevor begged me to attend, but because it wasn’t healthy for me to have zero life beyond work and school.
“Pink Pony Club” blared through the entire club. I couldn’t help but nod along as I went to the staff room, but that was as much dancing as I did without the promise of a hefty tip. This song never failed to have the whole club on their feet, singing and dancing. All the guys at my two tables were shaking their asses on the dance floor, so I had a few seconds before I needed to head over to the VIP section to check in.
As much as I enjoyed the song, the quiet vibe in the staff room had me mumbling out a breathy, “Oh, that’s nice,” as the door closed behind me. Once I stowed my water in my locker, I spared an extra second to shut my eyes and roll my neck back and forth along my shoulders, eliciting a series of pops and cracks. The tension there had increased over the past week, and it didn’t take a genius to guess why. Working with Ryder four nights a week was as miserable as I’d assumed.
But not for the reasons I’d expected.
He didn’t taunt or send me those patronizing glances he’d loved so much in high school and college. He also hadn’t called me FL since that first night. Instead, he’d let his body do the tormenting for him. Hours of watching him work bare-chested in booty shorts without an ounce of relief was pure torture. The CIA could get gay men all over the country to spill every secret they held by forcing them to work side by side with the half-naked Ryder and denying them any form of release. A few nights of being that hot and bothered, and every single one would crack like a cheap mirror.
After each shift, I’d gone home, stormed into my bedroom, and had my hand down my pants within seconds, jerking with such furious strokes my dick felt raw.
Then, there was his constant offer of a blow job. At least three times a night, Ryder sidled up to me and reminded me of his proposed wager. He’d quit working at Top Shelf if I could make him come with my mouth faster than he could make me come.