Tied to Trouble(5)

Heat crept up his neck at the images he was creating. Owen had to stop talking. He couldn’t catch his breath, and he was so hard in his pants, so fucking hard, he wanted to press the heel of his palm to his cock to try to calm himself. Where was this coming from? He’d never talked like this before. But looking at Chad, feeling Chad, imagining Chad in the positions flashing through his mind, had his filthy thoughts pouring out in a torrent.

He was barely holding it together.

Chad wasn’t faring much better. His chest rose and fell, and his neck was flushed. His lips were parted, his tongue between his teeth.

The sight of him so affected spurred Owen on. “I’d make you beg me for my tongue and my fingers. Then I’d work you open until you were wet and ready. And then…” Owen took a deep breath, took a hand off the wall and gripped the dark hair on top of Chad’s head. He jerked Chad’s head back an inch, enough to let him feel the tug on his scalp, to let him know who was in control. It felt right. “Then I’d fuck you so, so slow you wouldn’t be able to think about anything other than me. And just when you couldn’t take it anymore, I’d speed up the pace and pound you into the bed. I’d ruin you for anyone else.”

Even though it took all the willpower he possessed in his body, he relinquished his grip on Chad’s hair and pulled away, then took two steps back. Owen was as wrecked as Chad looked, so fucking hard and wanting to do all those things he talked about. But he wouldn’t let Chad see his desire. No. He’d gotten the upper hand, left Chad staring at him like he actually was a ghost. Sure, his hands shook and he was two seconds away from having a total meltdown over what he’d just done, but he’d wiped the smirk off Chad’s face.

And now it was definitely time to leave.

He swallowed twice before he felt confident enough to speak without a tremor in his voice. “That’s exactly how I’d fuck you,” he said then shrugged with all the nonchalance he didn’t feel. “Too bad it’ll never happen.”

He left Chad standing against the wall as he walked away with wobbly legs, telling himself not to look back. Marley had wanted him to meet her brother? Check mark.





Chapter Two


They were ten minutes away from last call, and Chad couldn’t wait.

Blue Moon Bar was packed. Everyone wanted to come out on this mild spring night after the harsh winter they’d had, wear their club clothes, and get laid. The only reason Chad wasn’t dead on his feet was because they had a drink special tonight that had been premixed in large containers.

Still, he’d pulled a lot of beer, and he reeked of every liquor imaginable.

The job was fun. He got to mix drinks and flirt and make money all at the same time. But tonight, his back muscles were tight and his head hurt and all he could think about was bow ties.

Fucking Bow Tie.

That guy. Chad didn’t even know his name. He could ask Marley who he was, but everything about that encounter had felt private.

Personal.

Really fucking hot.

I’d bite you, leave my marks behind.

Part of Chad wanted to yell that he’d be the one leaving marks behind, and the other part of him was saying, fuck yes, sign me the hell up.

But the majority of him wanted to forget that damn guy and get on with his life. It’d been a long time—hell, maybe the only time—since someone had gotten the upper hand emotionally on him in a sexual situation. Usually he was able to keep his wits about him, maintain the smirk and the snark. But with Bow Tie, he was left speechless. Fucking speechless. He was never left speechless. And if he ever ran into the guy again, he’d make sure Bow Tie got a whole lot of his mouth. One way or another.

He shook his head and slid a gin and tonic to a man in a blue button-down. The guy was close to sealing the deal with a woman he’d been talking up all night. Chad shot him a wink in encouragement. He’d been silently rooting for him all night, and the guy’s companion with the long red nails was clearly a little smitten.

He nodded to Ace, his friend and the other bartender, as the guy made the last call announcement.

The next half hour was a blur of making last drinks, cutting off customers who were too drunk, and making sure clients left the Blue Moon still wanting to come back and spend more money.

He’d had been working at the bar for a couple of months now. This was normally the time he’d move on, live off his savings until another job piqued his interest, but he hadn’t made the move yet. Maybe he was getting too old or mature or something, but he wasn’t eager to hang up his Blue Moon cuffs and bow tie.

And if he was honest with himself, he was putting off quitting. Because if he quit, he’d have to make a decision, maybe even commit to a career he’d been chasing for years, and hell if that commitment didn’t scare the shit out of him.