Bad Boy Billionaires 3 : The Vegas Shark
Chapter One
Whenever Treston had a man of his own, he felt special in a way that gave him both hope for the future and peace of mind about his sordid past. In his own innocent way, he truly believed life was all about peace, love, hope, and change.
Treston loved being in love. If he had a man in his life, he smiled more often, spoke with a softer tone, and even tended to walk down the street with a lighter step.
It didn't matter he'd only known most of the men he'd been in love with a few weeks. It mattered even less Treston had felt this way so many times he'd lost count. Each time he fell in love with a new man, he told himself it would be different and all his troubles were finally over. He truly believed the right man would change everything. But more than that, there were no lengths to which he would not go to please his man.
By the time he met Harlan Rocks, Treston was twenty-five years old and had already been through so many men he was beginning to wonder if something might be wrong with him. He'd fallen in love with semi-pro athletes who scratched their crotches and spit on public sidewalks. He'd fallen in love with older men, younger men, and even a few married men. He tried not to think too often about the Catholic priest he'd fallen in love with two years earlier. The priest eventually chose God over him, and this made Treston feel like hitting himself over the head with a two-by-four for getting involved with a priest in the first place. But Harlan Rocks was different. This time Treston knew he'd found the true love of his life and nothing could stand in the way of his happiness.
At the time, he was working in a small, all-male strip club in Vegas called The Male Room, where he did all kinds of things most people would have considered questionable at best to make a living. On the night he met Harlan, Treston had been dancing alone in a cage at the end of a long bar. He'd just broken up with his most recent boyfriend, Brent, an amateur gonzo porn star, and he hadn't been in the mood to smile, dance, or take off his clothes for anyone. The only reason he was there at all had more to do with paying the rent than shaking his body around for other men. He was already three weeks behind and his landlord was ready to kick him out. And he hated to take money from the modest savings account he'd been keeping for that proverbial rainy day.
The moment he glanced down and saw Harlan looking up at him, he felt a tug in his heart. All the drama of losing Brent disappeared and he sent the dark handsome man sitting at the bar below him a smile. Then he concentrated on moving his hips in a more exaggerated, seductive way, arching his back, spreading his legs wider. He started to smile more and a rush of excitement filled his body. He forgot about everyone else in the club and concentrated on looking at the dark-haired man for the rest of the night.
By the time Treston's shift was over, Harlan stood up and helped him climb out of the cage. Treston ignored all the other men who had been watching him dance in nothing but a silver glitter thong and he continued to focus on Harlan as if he were the only man in the room.
Though he knew it was against the rules for the male strippers to actually touch the customers, he checked to make sure his boss wasn't watching and then he set both palms on Harlan's wide shoulders. Harlan was wearing a black leather jacket, with a white shirt and tight faded jeans. He also wore sunglasses and Treston couldn't actually see his eyes. As he braced his hands on Harlan's shoulders and Harlan reached for his waist, he jumped off the stage in his bare feet and said, "Thanks so much for helping me down. You're a very big, strong man."
One of the other customers tried to grab Treston's naked ass, but Harlan grabbed the guy's arm and pushed it away. He scowled at him and spoke through clenched teeth. "Don't touch unless you have permission, you old fuckwad." The guy who'd grabbed Treston had to be at least seventy years old, carrying the creep flag as high as he could.
This unsolicited act of chivalry sent a thrill up the back of Treston's legs and he leaned forward to kiss his new hero on the cheek. "Thanks so much. I hate when the customers touch me that way. They aren't supposed to touch me at all." Then he lowered his head and glanced up at Harlan with the most innocent expression he could manage. He really didn't mind when the men touched him and grabbed him; he was so used to it he rarely even noticed when it happened. But he didn't want Harlan to know that.
Harlan squared his shoulders and said, "Don't you worry about it. I'll kick anyone's ass who tries to fuck around with you." He still had his hands on Treston's waist and he'd moved close enough now for Treston to feel his erection pushing through the front of his jeans against Treston's naked pelvis. "I'm Harlan Rocks."
Treston spoke in a soft, low tone, just barely loud enough for Harlan to hear. "I'm Treston Fair Leigh," he said. His real name was Ernie Schlepper; he'd made up a stage name when he'd started working at the club. He glanced to the right and saw his boss glaring at him. "I should go backstage now and get dressed before I get into trouble. I'm not supposed to socialize with the customers this way."
Whenever Treston had a man of his own, he felt special in a way that gave him both hope for the future and peace of mind about his sordid past. In his own innocent way, he truly believed life was all about peace, love, hope, and change.
Treston loved being in love. If he had a man in his life, he smiled more often, spoke with a softer tone, and even tended to walk down the street with a lighter step.
It didn't matter he'd only known most of the men he'd been in love with a few weeks. It mattered even less Treston had felt this way so many times he'd lost count. Each time he fell in love with a new man, he told himself it would be different and all his troubles were finally over. He truly believed the right man would change everything. But more than that, there were no lengths to which he would not go to please his man.
By the time he met Harlan Rocks, Treston was twenty-five years old and had already been through so many men he was beginning to wonder if something might be wrong with him. He'd fallen in love with semi-pro athletes who scratched their crotches and spit on public sidewalks. He'd fallen in love with older men, younger men, and even a few married men. He tried not to think too often about the Catholic priest he'd fallen in love with two years earlier. The priest eventually chose God over him, and this made Treston feel like hitting himself over the head with a two-by-four for getting involved with a priest in the first place. But Harlan Rocks was different. This time Treston knew he'd found the true love of his life and nothing could stand in the way of his happiness.
At the time, he was working in a small, all-male strip club in Vegas called The Male Room, where he did all kinds of things most people would have considered questionable at best to make a living. On the night he met Harlan, Treston had been dancing alone in a cage at the end of a long bar. He'd just broken up with his most recent boyfriend, Brent, an amateur gonzo porn star, and he hadn't been in the mood to smile, dance, or take off his clothes for anyone. The only reason he was there at all had more to do with paying the rent than shaking his body around for other men. He was already three weeks behind and his landlord was ready to kick him out. And he hated to take money from the modest savings account he'd been keeping for that proverbial rainy day.
The moment he glanced down and saw Harlan looking up at him, he felt a tug in his heart. All the drama of losing Brent disappeared and he sent the dark handsome man sitting at the bar below him a smile. Then he concentrated on moving his hips in a more exaggerated, seductive way, arching his back, spreading his legs wider. He started to smile more and a rush of excitement filled his body. He forgot about everyone else in the club and concentrated on looking at the dark-haired man for the rest of the night.
By the time Treston's shift was over, Harlan stood up and helped him climb out of the cage. Treston ignored all the other men who had been watching him dance in nothing but a silver glitter thong and he continued to focus on Harlan as if he were the only man in the room.
Though he knew it was against the rules for the male strippers to actually touch the customers, he checked to make sure his boss wasn't watching and then he set both palms on Harlan's wide shoulders. Harlan was wearing a black leather jacket, with a white shirt and tight faded jeans. He also wore sunglasses and Treston couldn't actually see his eyes. As he braced his hands on Harlan's shoulders and Harlan reached for his waist, he jumped off the stage in his bare feet and said, "Thanks so much for helping me down. You're a very big, strong man."
One of the other customers tried to grab Treston's naked ass, but Harlan grabbed the guy's arm and pushed it away. He scowled at him and spoke through clenched teeth. "Don't touch unless you have permission, you old fuckwad." The guy who'd grabbed Treston had to be at least seventy years old, carrying the creep flag as high as he could.
This unsolicited act of chivalry sent a thrill up the back of Treston's legs and he leaned forward to kiss his new hero on the cheek. "Thanks so much. I hate when the customers touch me that way. They aren't supposed to touch me at all." Then he lowered his head and glanced up at Harlan with the most innocent expression he could manage. He really didn't mind when the men touched him and grabbed him; he was so used to it he rarely even noticed when it happened. But he didn't want Harlan to know that.
Harlan squared his shoulders and said, "Don't you worry about it. I'll kick anyone's ass who tries to fuck around with you." He still had his hands on Treston's waist and he'd moved close enough now for Treston to feel his erection pushing through the front of his jeans against Treston's naked pelvis. "I'm Harlan Rocks."
Treston spoke in a soft, low tone, just barely loud enough for Harlan to hear. "I'm Treston Fair Leigh," he said. His real name was Ernie Schlepper; he'd made up a stage name when he'd started working at the club. He glanced to the right and saw his boss glaring at him. "I should go backstage now and get dressed before I get into trouble. I'm not supposed to socialize with the customers this way."