It hadn’t gone well and to this day, he was still embarrassed by his reaction. Michael may have been a big guy—six foot six inches and weighing in around three hundred pounds—but he wasn’t a fan of pain. Silver burning through his veins was incredibly painful. Tattoos normally didn’t do well when put under a paranormal’s skin. The silver kept the tattoo vibrant and bright, otherwise it would begin to fade away over time.
“Please.” Nicholas pushed out his lower lip, pretending to pout. “I promise to be gentle.”
Michael chuckled. “Hell no. Now, if you’re both done bothering me, I need to get in the shower.”
“Go ahead.” Damon leaned against the door jam, making himself comfortable.
“I think you’ve seen enough ass. There’s no need to add my name to the list, stud.”
“But I’ve never seen a polar bear’s meaty ass before.”
Shaking his head, Michael shrugged his big shoulders. He threw the blanket off and slowly stood up. Not taking his eyes off Damon, Michael took his time walking across the room to the bathroom. A series of loud whistles followed in his wake and Michael smiled.
“I wish I could sink my teeth into your ass, Michael.”
“Not gonna happen, buddy.” Michael shut the bathroom door behind him and clicked the lock into place.
“Would you stop sexually harassing him? He’s a great roommate and we don’t have to wait in line to get inside the club. If he moves out, I’m going to be pissed at you,” Nicholas warned, and Michael chuckled quietly to himself.
He didn’t care if Damon flirted with him. It was harmless as far as he was concerned. If the man wanted to check out his naked ass, Michael could oblige.
“He’s not gonna move out…” Damon’s voice trailed off as the two men left his room.
Reaching into the shower stall, Michael turned the shower water on. He ducked under the spray and rinsed off before grabbing the bar of soap off the tray. Michael went through the same boring routine he did every morning, until finally shutting off the water and climbing out of the shower. Drying off, Michael strode back into his bedroom and pulled out a clean pair of boxer briefs, black jeans, and a Silver Bullet club T-shirt.
He pulled the T-shirt over his head, and tugged it down, stretching the tight material over his muscles. Checking his image in the mirror above his dresser, Michael ran his fingers through his short platinum hair before grabbing his wallet and car keys. He walked out of his bedroom and jogged down the stairs, leading to the front door.
“You’re heading to the club already?” Nicholas asked as he opened the front door, holding it open for Michael.
“Yup.” Michael grinned. “We’re having go-go dancers tonight.”
“Really?” Nicholas’s eyebrows shot up and a dreamy look filled his eyes.
“I’m going in a little early to help get things set up in the main bar area.”
“What kind of things?” Damon asked, joining the conversation.
“I’m setting up the metal cages and handing out silver minishorts to the dancers,” he simply stated before walking off and leaving the Sabbath brothers with their mouths hanging open.
“Fuck,” Nicholas breathed out.
“We’re going to the club tonight,” Damon said.
Walking toward his old truck, Michael pulled up on the handle and climbed in. It took a couple of tries to get the engine started, but eventually his aging truck came to life.
Michael drove through the streets of New Orleans with the windows down. Holding his arm out, he smiled as the wind blew into the cab of the truck. He really liked New Orleans. It was a whole different world than what he was used to.
It didn’t take him long to reach the Silver Bullet.
The huge nondescript brick building stood tall, a block long, in the warehouse district. The club was multilayered with different floors, offering mini-clubs for its patrons. From the main bar with a giant dance floor to a dungeon, and a relaxing pool hall that offered over a hundred beers on tap. In the short time he’d been employed, Michael had only gotten a glimpse of the entire club. It seemed that the Silver Bullet really did have it all.
Parking in the back of the lot, Michael pocketed his keys as he strode toward the front door. The club was open twenty-four hours a day, but since they needed to set up for tonight’s fun, the main bar area was temporarily closed down.
“Hey, Montana, how are you doing?” Michael asked as he walked up. He shook Montana’s hand and the man grinned.
“I’m good, man. How are you?”
“I’m ready to see some hot go-go dancers.”
Montana chuckled. “Another new experience, Alaska?”