6. Roth

"So what do we think?"

I turned to show Amadeus two different outfits that I could wear to dinner. "Excuse me, sir, can you stop licking your personal areas to help me decide what to wear?" He sighed dramatically and then stared at me. "Thank you. So I have two choices. This one is a bit more traditionally masc and while I sometimes feel it, tonight, I'm not, but I also don't want to make things icky for Paul." I waved a perfectly fine little ensemble of shorts, a top, and a little jaunty hat with a seafaring motif around. Amadeus sneezed. "I know. I did promise myself that I would never let anyone dictate what I wore, but this is a different situation. This is work."

Amadeus yipped. I lowered the freshly pressed short and top combo.

"What do you mean, is it really? Of course it's work. Sure, we might be making eyes, but this is totally a job." I held up my top pick for the night. The flowy dress hanging off the hanger was perfect for a night out. It was peachy and pink geometric patterns, fit me well, and had gotten me no small amount of notice when I'd worn it to a gay dance club a few weeks ago. "Ugh, this dress is so me right now."

Amadeus rolled to his back to air out his belly.

"I know…I should wear it if my heart says to, but a dress that kills at a queer dance club might not be the proper dress to wear to a club filled with straight hockey players." I gazed at the dress longingly, my anxiety growing as the time ticked by because I was already a little late. The rap at my door wasn't totally unexpected since I'd told Paul I'd be ready fifteen minutes ago. "Shit. Shit."

I raced around in a circle as my dog watched in amusement. Then, because I was going nowhere and getting dizzy, I tossed both outfits to my bed and went to the door. Paul stood there in a pair of white shorts and a dark blue polo, his hair kind of windblown while his beard had been trimmed back severely. My whole body tingled. He was just so damn handsome.

"Hey," he said, his hands in his pockets as he gave me a quick once-over. "Still in your robe?"

To be fair, I had warned him I was eternally tardy. I tugged on the sash and then hurried to pick up Amadeus, who had made a mad dash for the door. He liked Paul a great deal. Just like his master.

"I'm so sorry," I whined, stepping back to let him in. His big feet were in sandals. Thank all the gods his toes weren't nasty. Ugly feet were such a turnoff. I mean, hello, guys! A little trimming of the nails and buffing of the heels goes a long way. "I'm spinning in circles. Like literally five seconds ago, I was Dorothy in the cyclone." I handed him the dog. Amadeus licked his tidy beard, which made him giggle/snort. A more adorable sound I have ever heard. "Please tell me what to wear." I ran to the bed, picked up both outfits and then turned so he could peruse the choices. "I didn't pack a lot. Mostly swimwear. A few things for going out, and a glam outfit for the big awards ceremony and dinner tomorrow night. I'm totally not feeling a bit masc today, or most days to be honest, but I know there are a lot of guys that you know that will be hitting the clubs so I don't want to embarrass you so perhaps I should pull on the shirt and shorts and?—"

"Roth?"

"Yes?"

"Breathe." I stopped blabbering, sucked in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Perfect." His smile was so lovely. Truly. I wasn't sure all those teeth were his natural ones, but they were all white and straight. Nary a gap in sight. "Which outfit do you like the best for tonight?"

"This one." I shook the geometric dress.

"Then you should wear that one."

"But what if we run into a roaming pack of your het jock buddies?"

He chuckled as he placed Amadeus on the bed. "You make them sound like a group of rabid hyenas trolling the Serengeti. If anyone has anything to say about you or the clothes that you're wearing they can speak to me."

"Oh." I blinked in surprise. "Paul, I don't want you to get into a fight over me. I am totally willing to tone things down for the short time we're contractually bound." He drew back a little as if I'd hit him or wounded him in some manner. "Not that I think of us as just a work-related thing." Amadeus sat up, head cocked, questioning me in his doggy way. Sure, I had just said that we were purely a work thing, but that was when Paul wasn't filling the entire room with his freckles and those shoulders that were as wide as a yardarm on a pirate ship.

This man would be the sexiest pirate ever. Shiver me timbers and prepare the poop deck!

My dick really liked the image of Paul as a pirate and me as his captive.

"Roth, I have no plans to get into a fight." He took a step closer, the crisp clean scent of his cologne making me lightheaded as he ever-so-gently cupped my face and tipped my head back. "But if I were going to defend someone, it would be you."

"A gallant giant," I whispered as I watched him slowly lower his head.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please, yes, please do."

I had no idea what the contract I had signed said about snogging the client. Surely there were provisos for intimate things that might take place. As his soft lips skimmed mine like the brush of a bunting's wing, I didn't care if I got litigated for breach of contract on some morals clause. Sue me, go ahead. Paul's mouth was on mine. I sighed dreamily, went to my newly painted toes, and threw my arms around his thick neck. He seemed hesitant to deepen the kiss, but I wasn't. I traced the seam of his lips with the tip of my tongue. A growly sound burbled up from his chest right before he licked out to slip his tongue over mine. From that moment on, it was a frenzy of sucking, lapping, and tasting. He tasted of minty mouthwash. One of his hands slid down my side, found my thigh, and hoisted it up to his hip. I moaned into his mouth as our cocks grazed.

Amadeus chose that moment to be a stinker. He barked three times, sharp little yaps that he usually only made when he needed to piddle. Which, yeah, he probably did. It had been a few hours, and he'd drank a lot upon returning to our room.

"I think he has to pee," I whispered across the most delicious lips I had ever encountered. Paul sighed, released my leg, and slowly peeled me off. I was like a sticky limpet, unwilling to let go, but finally I did, my cock making a tent in the front of my robe. I flicked a look down at his pants to witness a long, thick shaft straining at his zipper. The sight of that hunk of meat made me hungry, and not for the meal we were about to have.

"Why don't I take him out, then I'll leave him at the daycare center while you finish dressing?" His voice was thick with desire. I nodded and then staggered off to find a leash. He had at least a dozen so he could coordinate with his outfits. Fashionable dogs always had matching accessories, just like their daddies.

"Are you sure they're open this late in the day?" I asked while snapping a pink lead to Amadeus's collar.

"Yep, I'm positive," he answered with such authority I didn't think to question.

"So," I asked as Paul and Amadeus headed to the door. "The geometric?"

"If that's the one that makes you happy, then yes, the geometric."

"Thank you."

He gave me a shy little smile, adjusted himself, and then left with my pooch prancing alongside him. I may have gushed all over the place for a whole minute after the door shut. Yes, I knew this was just a four-day job, but he kissed me. And it was amazing! Also, he told me to be me. He would never know how much that simple statement meant to me. It might have also just nudged me from lusty crushing on the man to full-blown lusty liking him.

* * *

Dinner was amazing.

Honestly, I had never laughed so hard or felt so at home as I did at that small table at a trendy beachside café. Marcus and Paul had a strong friendship. That was obvious by the way they razzed each other non-stop. Kris was a gorgeous woman, friendly as hell and not one to ever let an innuendo go by unsaid. Dee and Laura rounded out the small group, adding their homey, perfectly suited vibe to the shenanigans. I felt perfectly at ease in my geometric dress and strappy sandals. I'd slid some bangles on my wrist as well as some sparkly earrings. Paul kept looking at me over the empty plates and drained wine glasses, heat simmering in those dark blue eyes throughout the meal. If he asked, and I prayed he would, I would sleep with him tonight with zero regrets. If that kiss was any indication of the fire that would engulf us, then I'd be a damn fool to not take him to my bed.

We transitioned from the café to a nightclub on Clematis Street. The thumping dance music could be heard a half block away as we walked along, the night air clammy on my exposed skin. Paul had taken my hand after we'd gotten out of our shared ride, none of us wanted to be behind the wheel tonight. When we reached the line to get into The Indigo Bunting, I took note of all the queer couples in the queue. That put me instantly at ease.

"Kris and I wanted to make sure everyone felt comfortable," Marcus told me on the sly as we inched our way to the front doors. "Also, this place has an amazing list of DJs and ladies drink free on Friday nights."

"They also have gender neutral bathrooms, drag bingo, and a huge events page packed with queer artists," Kris said as she started to snap selfies to share online. Marcus dropped an arm around me, smooching me on the cheek as his wife took a shitload of pictures.

Once we were carded and had paid the pretty hefty cover at the door, we stepped into a packed, two-story nightclub. Disco balls spun over a big dance floor and strobe lights flashed showing small little coves for resting or just chilling. Each nook had a bright sofa and tables.

The age range was hard to gauge as there were people of all different ages and colors grinding away. An older Pitbull song was bumping out of the speakers.

In no time I was crushed into Paul's body, moving around in bouncy leaps and hip rolls while Pitbull sang about meeting up in a hotel room. I was shocked at how well Paul moved on the dance floor, his powerful body undulating in perfect rhythm to the songs that followed. Sisqo, Lil Naz X, Rhianna, Lady Gaga, and The B-52s all filled the air. The music played on and on steadily, and our little happy group didn't miss a song for over an hour. When we were all sweaty, spent, and thirsty, Kris led her hubby off the floor, the rest of us following along. Paul was at my side, attentive as hell, while throwing out a protective Doberman vibe that sent a couple of guys who had given me the look moving in a different direction.

We claimed a vacated nook on the second floor, falling into the comfy couches with huffs. Our server was a thin Black man with bright red dreads and a smile that could compete with the strobe lights flashing on the walls.

"What are you having?" Paul shouted over a Tove Lo song.

"Something cold and sweet. Oh, with pineapple juice!" I yelled back as I scooted into the middle of the sofa, Paul on my right and Kris on my left. "How about a pineapple mojito?"

Paul nodded, ordered our drinks—a mojito for me and a scotch and water for him—then sat back, his arm resting on the back of the sofa before slipping down to lay on my sweaty shoulders. I may have listed to the side just enough to let my head rest on his shoulder. It felt natural. His fingers drifted to my neck, then to my ear, then back down. Shivers ran down my spine despite how overheated I was. We fell into talking the best that we could given the pulsating music from the floor below. People up here were dancing too, here and there, some on the stairs leading up to the balconies, others at the railings. A few were doing some dirty dancing in the shadowy nooks.

"This place is amazing," Kris shouted as she bounced in her seat, the thumping bass of RuPaul's "Supermodel" pulling us all into a sing along. Paul smiled at our shenanigans, his hand tickling my neck, as we tried to converse over Mother Ru instructing us which direction to turn.

Our drinks arrived. I reached for my little bag, but Marcus called the server to start a tab.

"To friends, old and new!" Marcus bellowed like a bull, lifting his ice cold beer.

We all clinked glasses and then sipped our drinks. My mojito was perfect and so refreshing. Conversation was tricky unless you were shouting in someone's ear, but we didn't let that dull our night. We just leaned in or over someone when needed. At one point, I was nearly on Paul's lap while I was trying to tell Laura about a funny time I'd had in the dog park. My chest was tight to Paul's hard thighs, Laura's head close to mine. Paul didn't seem to mind my weight on his lap, so I placed a hand on his thigh, for support, of course, my fingers resting close to his crotch. I felt his chest expand at the brazen touch. I could blame it on the mojito, but that would have been a fib. There was nothing I wanted to do more than slip my hand into his pants and pull out that monster cock of his. Of course I didn't, but I sure wanted to.

The music hit a lull as the DJs switched off. Lighter background tunes floated around the club which meant that we could sit back and actually talk like normal people instead of screaming like angry seagulls. Just as I was leaning back a bit, my hand still happy as a lark on Paul's thigh, two men walked up to our table. The corded muscles under my hand stiffened.

"I hope we're not intruding?" the man on the left asked. He was a handsome thing, all bright dark eyes and brown curls. His date—they were holding hands, so I made that assumption—was more slender than him and blond to the other brunette. They looked quite familiar, but my head was a little goosey from the cocktails I'd ingested. How many had I had, anyway?

"No, of course not. It's so good to see you again, Marshall," Paul stiffly said.

Marshall. Oh dear. Oh yes, shit. Now I knew who they were. Damn it, why was there not a no sexy exes allowed rule in place in our society?!