Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

Hayes

I can’t stop feeling that I’m getting punked. If I tell this guy yes, will someone jump out from behind some barstools, hoping to catch a member of the Jilted Exes’ Club in action? Will this end up online, and I’ll just be giving the world another reason to laugh at me?

I finish cleaning up behind the bar and look at the gigantic hottie. He’s tall and broad, with short, black hair that’s messier than I ever let mine get. He’s got blue eyes, dark scruff along his jaw, and I’m pretty sure if you look up mischievous smile , a photo of him will appear. And he might be pictured under muscular too. Seriously, how does someone have such a nice body? Does he spend every moment in the gym and never eat anything delicious like chocolate cake or pizza?

He notices me looking and gives me a grin and a wink, which really should be cheesier than it is. Why is it that hot guys can get away with nearly anything without looking dumb?

I don’t see any recognition in his eyes. It’s not as if I get spotted on the street daily and everyone knows who I am. The incident at LAX earlier, well, that was the first time that’s happened, so I can’t figure out what game this guy could be playing at other than taking advantage of an easy orgasm.

“Are you married?” I ask.

He blanches. “What? No. I’m not an asshole. I wouldn’t be hitting on you if I had a partner.”

“Not everyone is like that.”

“Well, I am. Being in a relationship is the absolute last thing I want. I’m just looking to have fun.”

It doesn’t escape my attention that just a couple of hours ago, I decided the same thing for myself. I’ve never had a time in my life where I just hooked up and had no-strings-attached sex. Sure, I’d slept with two guys before Malcolm, once with each, but that was after a couple of dates when I thought there might be a chance of a future with them.

Now I don’t want that chance at a future with anyone ever again, and here’s a walking sex god offering to make me come, and I’m not sprinting toward him like an Olympic track star?

Malcolm took advantage of me because he could, and while I don’t want to take advantage of my sex god, I do want to prove to myself that I can do this. That I’m not that guy who only has work or is waiting around for a man to sweep me off my feet. I don’t want to be swept, damn it. How many times did Malcolm hint that I was boring? That I didn’t take chances. That I needed him to spice up my life. I want to prove to myself that I can be the fucking spice.

I set the broom against the counter, and okay, I’m pretty sure I huff too, but the sex god doesn’t call me on it.

I walk around the bar, feel his gaze on my back as I go to the elevator, put my key in, and type in the code so the doors won’t open to this level. Once that’s taken care of, I move to the large sliding doors and pull them shut. They’re glass, so that could be a problem. If anyone is on the roof or high floors of neighboring buildings, they can see up here, but I decide not to let myself worry about that.

When I turn back to the sex god, he’s twisted his stool around, blatantly staring at me with a cocky grin. “Are you kidnapping me now?”

“No. I’m blowing you. That is, if you’re still interested.” It would be just my luck that he suddenly changes his mind.

“I’m interested. The only problem is, maybe I want to blow you too.”

That easily, my cock twitches, blood heading to my groin and making my dick stiffen. “That can—” My voice squeaks. What in the hookup freakout voice was that? I clear my throat. “That can be arranged.”

Sex God’s smile grows, and it’s a really, really nice smile. His short hair isn’t really messy like I thought earlier. No, it’s that sexy-mussed thing going on that I could never pull off, and honestly, none of the guys I’ve been with could pull it off either. He’s one hundred percent not my type. He probably watches sports and doesn’t read books, and holy shit, I’m a bit of a judgmental asshole, aren’t I? Boys like him weren’t nice to me when I was younger, and men like him don’t give me a second glance now. He’s not someone I should be able to pull, but clearly the new me can. The me who doesn’t only care about school, then work. The one who doesn’t put out on the first date. I missed so much fun .

“You’re not going to get into trouble for locking up the bar and blowing someone back here?”

“I know the manager.” Technically, that’s not a lie, considering I do know the manager. I’m just leaving out the part where said manager works for me.

“You gonna come over here, or what?”

Oh yeah, I stopped moving, but then, if I’m going to do this, I should step all the way out of my comfort zone. “Maybe I want you to come to me.”

He chuckles, but it doesn’t feel like a mocking laugh. “I can do that, sure, but you’re close to the door, and there’s nowhere to hide over there if we have to. I thought maybe the two of us going behind the bar or in the back would be better. As hot as exhibitionism can be, it can be a PR nightmare.”

Shit. He’s right. That’s all I need. I can imagine the headlines—how the Rockwell heir went from the laughing stock of the world after being cheated on to public indecency. My stomach twists up, but my dick is still at half-mast.

I really fucking want to do this, so I say, “Of course. I was kidding,” though we both know I wasn’t kidding. Also… “Can I get a name because it’s getting a little annoying to keep calling you Sex God in my head.”

He lets out a laugh, and I’m surprised at how often he’s done that. He seems to be under the impression that I’m funny, when really, I’m not.

He stands. “Rylan. Also, don’t think I missed the fact that you called me a sex god.”

“No I didn’t.” Deny, deny, deny. Who cares that we both know I did.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire. We should get you out of those things before you get burned.”

“Oh my God. That was terrible,” I say as he moves over to me because I still haven’t made my way to him.

He holds my face in his hands, and damn, it feels small there. I feel small next to him in this way I never thought I would think is hot. He’s just so… “You’re really hard.” I poke his chest.

“In more than one place.” He grins, then eases in like he’s going to lower his mouth to mine.

“Don’t you want to know my name?” I ask, then immediately wish I could suck the words back in. Hayes Rockwell? Not a common name. I’m fucking terrible at this already.

His brows draw together slightly. “Yep. What’s your name?”

“Harry,” I blurt out, and what the fuck. Harry? I couldn’t have at least come up with a sexier name?

“Okay, Harry. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Hell yes.” I might be word-vomiting dumb shit, but I do really, really want this. Just having him so close makes my cock swell even more.

“Good. Me too. But if you change your mind at any time, tell me and we stop. Now, where do I take you so we can get to the dick sucking?”

I laugh at the ridiculousness of his question but appreciate the kindness of the first part of his statement. Consent is sexy.

“Come on. Let’s hurry.” I take his hand and drag him toward the back of the bar, to where the office is, and unlock the door. My nerves are hiding behind my excitement for him. No, not for him specifically, but for this moment. To do this wild, sexy, completely unfamiliar thing. Just the thought of it makes me feel like I’m not the kind of guy who would propose to some asshole who was dating me along with half the country. I’m…well, tonight I’m Harry , apparently, but I’m also a hot piece of ass Rylan wants to blow.

We stumble into the office, and the second we do, Rylan’s mouth is on mine. He pushes his tongue past my lips, tasting minty as he presses his hard body against me.

I stumble into the desk, my ass pressed against it, cock throbbing and hard as stone now. He nibbles my lip and feeds me greedy sounds, rutting our dicks together in a way that makes my skin buzz.

Malcolm never kissed me like this. The truth is, he didn’t kiss me a lot at all, now that I think about it. But there was never a hunger to it, never a neediness that I feel in the way Rylan’s tongue invades my mouth and in the press of his palm against my shaft when he slips his hand between our bodies to stroke me through my jeans.

I don’t think it means anything other than what it does, of course. This is about sex and hunger and getting off, but damn, couldn’t Malcolm have pretended to want me a little more than he had? Couldn’t he at least have played the part better? And why hadn’t I noticed something was off?

“We still good?” Rylan asks, mouth journeying down my throat.

“Yeah, just thinking about my ex.”

He freezes. “Hmm. Can’t say a guy wants the man he’s with to be thinking about his ex.”

I chuckle, realizing how that sounded. “Not like that. I was just thinking about how much better this is already. No-strings-attached sex is the best.”

He nibbles at my neck. “And I haven’t even started yet.”

I reach for him when he pulls back, but Rylan isn’t going far. He pushes my suit jacket off, then lifts the hem of my shirt, and considering I’m all for getting naked, I help him along by lifting my arms.

Rylan drops it to the floor, and I immediately go for his tee, getting it tangled on his head, which he laughs at before he tosses it away and… “Holy Mother of God…how the fuck do you look like that?” How does anyone look like that? All firm, cut muscles and golden skin. He’s got a light dusting of hair between his pecs, and abs for days. Aren’t we only supposed to have six of those? It looks like he has more. And the happy trail… I’ve never wanted to explore a trail so bad in my whole life, let it lead me all the way to the bulge beneath his joggers.

“Like what you see?”

“Stop sounding so cocky. How can someone not like what they see? Oh my God. You look like a painting…or a sculpture. Definitely not real. Am I dreaming? Fuck my life. I’m dreaming.”

Rylan gives me that rich, throaty laugh of his. “You’re fucking fun is what you are.”

“You’re the first person to tell me that, but I guess it’s a good thing I have that going for me since you’re clearly not with me because of my body.” It’s not something I’ve ever been insecure about, and I’m not sure I’m insecure now either, but it’s not like I don’t notice the difference. I’m a slender guy mostly, my belly a little soft, and I’m not muscular and… “Your muscles have muscles.”

“You’re exaggerating. And you’re hot.” He leans forward and swipes his tongue over my left nipple, making pleasure shoot to my balls.

“Yes. More of that, please,” I tell him, and Rylan obeys, lashing my right nipple, sucking, then traveling to my left again. I drop my head back, will myself not to wake up if this really is a dream. Hope and pray that I don’t bust my nut the second I’m in his mouth because damn, we haven’t even done anything yet and I already know this will be the best sex of my life.

So far , I remind myself. Because I’m turning over a new leaf to be Slutty Hayes…or Harry.

He laves one nipple, working the other with his fingers, swapping, and then he begins to work his way down, to my non-six-pack abs, and my happy trail, before nuzzling my cock through my jeans.

“This is what I’ve been looking for,” Rylan says, looking up at me as I stare down at him. We don’t turn away from each other, and I think he’s checking for permission before he keeps going, so I nod, and then he’s unbuttoning and unzipping me. He tugs my jeans down, and I’m trying not to die on the spot.

When my underwear follows, cock springing free, he wraps his mouth around my crown, and I nearly combust. I’m not proud of the loud, “Oh God!” that slips past my lips, but we’re past pretending I’m smooth when it comes to sex. All I want is to come and then taste Rylan’s cock.

He fumbles with my shoes to take them off so I can get out of my jeans, but I just say, “Leave it. Suck me.”

It takes me a moment to realize the words came from me, which sounds silly, but it’s true. I’ve never been vocal during sex, just kinda wait and see what the guy is going to do, but something about Rylan, about this night, gives me a courage I never had. And damned if it doesn’t feel good.

“ Fuck. ” Rylan moves forward to take me into his mouth.

“Wait!” I rush out, and he immediately stops.

“You want to stop?”

“Oh God no. I just want to see you too.” When he grins, I test out the words. “Take your pants off. I wanna see your cock.” Having sex with someone you’ll never see again is exhilarating as fuck. Plus, he doesn’t know me as the Rockwell heir. I’m Harry the random bartender, and there’s freedom in that.

“You’re enjoying this,” he says. “I can play this game with you. At least for a little while, and then I might want to be the bossy one too.” He smirks, and I just nod like an idiot. Clearly, idiot works for Rylan, so I don’t need to pretend I’m anything else.

He pushes onto his knees and tugs his joggers and underwear down, and…

“Holy Mother of God?” he fills in for me. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

Ugh. I hate cocky guys. Why don’t I hate him? “It’s not nice to brag.” But man, he has a cock on him. It’s not the length as much as the girth and the fact that it’s just…pretty. Thick and veiny, with big, heavy balls that probably carry enough cum to drown me. The head is flushed red, his pubes a little longer than I keep mine, which really just makes me want to bury my face in them even more.

Rylan fists his erection, gives it a strong stroke. It’s slick with precum, but when he moves his hand, it makes a pearl form at the tip.

“Hurry up and suck me so I can taste it,” I tell him, but then, because I’m still getting used to teasing and this more dominant vocal thing when I’m having sex, I add, “please.”

He grins, an unexpected spark in his eyes. “So polite,” he praises, and then, eyes firmly on mine, licks me from balls to tip, then takes my dick into the wet heat of his mouth.

I nearly come on the spot, body trembling, balls aching, cock dying to do nothing more than snuggle in this sex god’s throat because yes, I might know his name now, but the guy on his knees for me right now is still a total sex god. I’m trying to understand what the hell he’s doing here with me. The Big Three, a.k.a. the only men I’ve slept with, had nothing on Mr. Muscles and— oh. His mouth moves down to lap at my balls. He buries his face in them, licking and sucking, before making his way back to my cock again.

I look down at him, watch him work miracles with my dick. If there was a Dick Sucking World Game, he would be the champion. My cock isn’t short, but he doesn’t struggle to take me down his throat, swallowing around the head while he bobs up and down like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Okay, now you’re just showing off,” falls out of my mouth.

He pulls back. “Want me to stop?”

“Nope. I want you to drain my balls.”

Rylan groans and dives back onto my dick again like I’m his favorite treat, and all I can focus on is how fucking cool that felt to say. I want you to drain my balls? Who even am I? Definitely not that loser who proposed to a shithead and is the most notorious member of the Jilted Exes’ Club.

His mouth is full of my cock, but he flicks his tongue out and manages to brush it against the root of my erection, which is clearly superhot and reminds me it was a total lie when I said all I could focus on was my words. All I can and want to pay attention to is Rylan the Sex God and—he hums. “Oh God. I’m going to fuck your face. Can I fuck your face? I really, really need to.”

Again, he backs off my cock.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“Answering you. Jesus, you’re fucking adorable. And yes. Let me have it. I want what’s in these.” He cups my cum-filled sac, and it takes everything in my power not to shoot all over his pretty face.

I manage to hold back, threading my fingers through his hair that could probably use a bit of a cut, but that’s none of my business. I tighten my hold in the strands, push past his lips. I’m careful not to jab my dick too hard, but I definitely thrust my hips, taking his mouth the way I’ve only ever dreamed about doing to someone…but then, have I dreamed about it? I don’t know. It’s like something about tonight has opened this hidden door inside me I never knew was there, where I hook up with a random stranger and tell him I want to fuck his face while in the office of the bar at the Seattle Rockwell.

I’ve thought it earlier tonight, but I can’t help thinking it again, how fucking freeing this all is.

Rylan takes me like the dick-sucking champ he is. I watch for signs that it’s too much, but all I see is lust in his eyes, his hand on his fat cock that will soon be buried in my throat. It’s that thought, along with the skilled suction of his mouth and the way he’s letting me ride his face like a bull rider, that has my balls drawing up, a kaleidoscope of color exploding in my vision, body floating on nothing but pleasure, jet after jet of cum pulling from my balls and into his mouth.

Rylan swallows it all down enthusiastically, like I have magic-tasting cum, which is a cool thought. Magic cum? I don’t know what this man is doing to me, but tonight is the first day of the new me, the slutty and dominant me, and somehow, I know I picked the perfect person for my introduction.