Bad Boy Billionaires #3 - The Vegas Shark(18)

Treston took a quick breath and said, "We did have fun. At least, I know I did. You're one of the most interesting bad boys I've ever met. I really mean it. But it's time for Cinderella to get back to the real world now. I have to figure out how to change my circumstances and get a decent job, and you have pussycat waiting upstairs for you to breed him like a fucking pig."

Chad smiled. "That's not funny. He didn't know you were listening."

"Seriously, man," Treston said. "Who does shit like that in bed?"

"You should talk," Chad said. His tone grew serious. "You're a stripper and I can only imagine what else you've done with men to make money. I'm more than familiar with the extra services that are offered at Chickey's. So I don't think you're in any position to judge Dare."

Well.

Treston had been confronted this way before. In the beginning it used to sting him, but now he felt nothing. "I know who I am and I don't lie about it. But I can promise you one thing for certain: I've never screamed things like that in bed with anyone. I don't have to pretend I'm a whore in bed, because I really am one. I admit it openly and I'm not ashamed of anything I've done. So don't you ever judge me or what I've done to survive." He'd learned that by taking an offense approach instead of a defensive one he could maintain his dignity. But there were times even he didn't believe it. 

Chad held his arm tighter. "I'm not judging you. Don't you get it? I wouldn't judge you or what you do for a living. I don't care about all the men you've been with in the past. I'm not much different from you. I just got a little luckier at a very young age. I've never told anyone this before and I never thought I would. But do you know how I got my first part in a film? I sucked off the producer right in his office. I got down on my hands and knees and I sucked his tired old dick and he offered me a contract afterward."

Treston shrugged. He wasn't impressed. "It's not the first time a pretty boy got a part in a film that way and it won't be the last."

"I want to see you again," Chad said.

"Why? So you can rake me over the proverbial coals like you do with all the other guys you've used and dumped? From what I hear, this town is filled with them. You make me laugh. I actually feel sorry for smut-mouthed little pussycat up there in your bed right now. You're not serious about him. If you were you wouldn't be standing here asking to see me again. You're going to fuck his brother again, you'll fuck his best friend, and you'll wind up fucking him over, just like all the rest. And I'm tired of games. I want something different. Now let go of my arm and let me go home."

Chad refused to let go. "You make me laugh. I can change your life. I can make something out of you."

This time Treston yanked his arm out of Chad's hand and he laughed in his face. "What is this? Seriously, man. Do you think I'm goddamn Joan Crawford sitting in a soda shop on Sunset Boulevard? You're going to make something out of me? Give me a fucking break already and at least give me some credit. I've heard that line so many times I repeat it in my sleep. In case no one's told you, every gay man over forty with money and power has used that line on a younger gay man at least once."

Chad took a step forward, but he stopped when Treston's arms went up. He rubbed his jaw and said, "You're bitter."

"I'm not bitter," Treston said. "I'm smarter."

As he turned toward the limo, Chad didn't try to follow him this time. Chad stood there looking dejected, as if ready to double over in pain, and said, "Can we keep in touch? I don't see why we can't at least be friends."

Treston lifted one leg into the car, held the door, and turned around to face him. He'd never spoken this way to a man before. Although it made him feel stronger than he'd ever felt, he had enjoyed the time he'd spent with Chad and he wanted to remember it fondly. He wanted Chad to remember it well, too. If he left on a bitter note he knew that wouldn't be possible. So he sent Chad a smile and said, "I wish I could say yes. I wish we could be friends. But I don't think it would work out. You're too gorgeous, too smart, too rich, and too strong for me. You would wind up killing me. Please take this as a compliment because I'm not trying to be nasty now. For the most part, I had a wonderful time tonight. I'll remember this night forever and I'll look back on it with a smile. You're probably the nicest bad boy I've ever known, and I'd like to thank you for giving me the memory. But it's time to leave."

Chad smiled and said, "Can I kiss you goodbye?"




 

 

This guy just didn't stop. Treston returned the smile and said, "I guess one kiss goodbye wouldn't hurt." He did want to hold him one more time. There was something about the way he smelled that made Treston feel calm and relaxed.

He jogged down the front steps with as little effort as a teenage athlete. He ran to the car, put his arms around Treston, and kissed him on the mouth. As their tongues met, Treston had to admit he'd never experienced this kind of electricity with a man, not even Harlan Rocks. That was all the more reason to push Chad away and say, "Thanks for not being a complete asswipe."

Chad let him go; he backed away and shrugged. "Thank you for making me laugh in bed for the first time. I never did that before. In a way, you took my virginity again."

Treston couldn't resist the temptation. "Well, I find that hard to believe. With little blond pussycat up there I'd be laughing the moment she opened her filthy mouth and started begging to get her man-pussy fucked." He hated it when gay men switched pronouns, but sometimes it was hard to avoid.

Chad didn't seem amused. "I'm serious. I had a good time tonight."

When Treston saw his expression and the intense look in his billion-dollar steel blue movie star eyes, he felt a sting in his own eyes. He knew he would never see him again. So he stepped forward and reached for both of Chad's forearms. He held them tightly and said, "I think you can change. Don't underestimate yourself."

"Maybe I just need the right guy to change me."

With that comment, Treston knew it was time to leave. He released Chad's arms and said, "That's not how it works, trust me. I've been trying to change men like you all my life." Then he kissed him one last time on the lips, caressed his cheek, and climbed into the limo. After he closed the door, he didn't glance back. He had a feeling Chad was standing in the middle of the driveway, watching the limo disappear. For the first time since he'd met Chad earlier that night, he realized this was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. It shouldn't have been this hard. There was something wrong with him; he should have expected it. But he knew if he did glance back, he might change his mind and tell the driver to stop. Chad Pratt was everything he'd ever wanted in a man, plus more. He had all the worst qualities a man could have, yet he was decent deep down. But then Treston had told himself all this so many times with other men, he couldn't trust his own instincts. He'd given those men everything he'd had, from money to emotion. It just wasn't something he was willing to do anymore.

Chapter Ten

When the limo pulled up to Treston's apartment, he took his time getting out, hoping one of his nosy neighbors would see him. They noticed everything else he did. They'd hung their heads out their doors the night he'd met three bikers with beards and tattoos and the bikers had carried him out of his apartment in his underwear and thrown him in the pool as a joke. They'd noticed the cute little college guy with the goatee and sagging jeans he'd dated for a while between lovers. Treston's neighbors seemed so interested in his personal life he often thought they had hidden cameras set up just to see who he was coming and going with. His next-door neighbor, an older woman who had once been married to a used-car salesman who'd left her for a younger woman, even had the nerve to ask him what had happened to Harlan Rocks. Evidently, she'd been watching Harlan come and go, and when she didn't see him anymore, it must have driven her crazy. Treston just smiled and told her Harlan had moved to Los Angeles, without going into any details. But the one night he pulled up to his complex in a chauffeur-driven limo owned by the one and only Las Vegas Shark, Chad Pratt, no one even cracked a dusty venetian blind to see him get out. It figured. 

He wasn't going to let his night with Chad go completely ignored. That was why he hadn't returned the autographed photo to Chad. Though he had no intentions of ever seeing Chad again, he couldn't resist mentioning Chad the next night at work. He swaggered into the dressing room with a half-smile and a playful expression. Lyon and J.D. were there getting ready for the show. Lyon was undressing and J.D. was already wearing his jock strap, trying to pack his humongous dick into a pouch that seemed to be two sizes too small again. When Treston walked up to him and set his backpack down on a bench in front of his locker, he sent J.D.'s dick a glance and said, "I don't know why you just don't pack that obnoxious thing into a quart mason jar and be done with it." The jock he was wearing that night was one of those sock-jock affairs Treston had seen in catalogues, with a pouch up front, a waistband, and no straps or strings in the back. Most normal men wouldn't have had a problem with it.

"Where the fuck were you last night?" J.D. asked.

"I had an important engagement," Treston said. He wanted to wait to tell them the story. "Chickey knows all about it."