29. Christian

29

CHRISTIAN

I thought he was being dramatic. Exaggerating. Bluffing? And yet, there’s a part of me that isn’t at all surprised when Gibson Hayes appears in the doorway of the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd before quickly landing on me.

He’s wearing a gray V-neck shirt, jeans, and black shoes I can’t make out. He looks casually un-fucking believable.

I can believe he’s here about as much as I can’t believe he’s here for me.

Drew drapes an arm over my shoulder and leans in. “I forgot how big he is.”

“Who?” Jericho asks, turning to look at where I can’t stop staring. Joe turns, too, and Jeremy’s eyes widen.

“Bravo, Chris,” the Brit says.

“Drew, you can take your hands off Christian now—his boyfriend’s here.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say to Ollie who has a zero tolerance policy for Drew touching other men. Especially single men. As if Drew would ever stray. He’s so stupidly obsessed with Olivier, I’m half tempted to show Ollie my text thread with Drew— which is mostly pictures he’s taken of Ollie from either very flattering or incredibly unflattering angles—along with all my responses like “adorable” or “funny” which Drew always hearts.

“He’s here for you either way,” Olivier says, “So welcome to couple’s night, officially.”

I rise from my seat as Gibson comes around the table. Placing my hand on the most neutral spot I can think of—his left shoulder blade, I introduce him. “Gibson, this is Jericho and her fiancé Joe.”

They both wave and Gibson nods their way.

“Jeremy and his boyfriend Larry. You said you know Drew and Ollie, but just in case—this is my boss Gibson.” I turn to him and explain the missing couple as if he cares or is even wondering. “Elodie and Mal had a show to go to, so that’s why they’re not here. They’re all nice enough to let me tag along even though I’m single.”

“Not tonight you’re not,” Ollie says. “Have a seat, Gibson.”

Gibson looks at me, and it feels like all the alcohol hits my bloodstream at once. He looks annoyed, cool, and confident all at once, but more than that—he looks territorial . Expectant. Demanding. Like pull out the fucking chair already .

I do immediately, and he sits. I squeeze in between him and Drew. Gibson’s hand lands just above my knee before quickly running up my thigh and clenching. Licking my lips and trying to compose myself, I offer him my drink.

He takes it, draining the glass with impunity. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all, and we’re delighted to have you,” Jericho says with her wide, welcoming smile. “Christian was just telling us about your after hours misadventures, and I think we can all agree we’re impressed with our little poet.”

Jesus. “In fairness, I didn’t tell you everything . Stop making it sound like I kiss and tell.”

“Now we need to know more,” Larry says, which I’ll admit is a surprise coming from him, but he’s looking at Gibson like he’s a melting popsicle that needs to be licked immediately. I find myself wrapping a hand around Gibson’s thigh, too.

“The usual inappropriate shenanigans,” I say. “Just because I’m single and having fun doesn’t make you all entitled to my extracurricular activities.”

“What exactly have you told them?” Gibson asks in a low voice that’s still loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I literally just said we hooked up.”

“More than once,” Drew adds.

“True. I mentioned it happened more than once, but before you say anything that can be held against you, I went into almost no detail.”

“Almost?”

“Very little,” I tell him.

“I was the one who talked him through prep Thursday night,” Drew says.

Gibson tries to stifle his sudden laugh but can’t. He keeps it short, though. In doing so, his cheeks darken, and his dark eyes gleam bright.

“I’m sorry about them,” I say. “But in all fairness, I told you I’d see you later.”

“I couldn’t wait,” he says.

And now I’m the one blushing. It’s not the kind of table where I can start rubbing his cock, and no one would notice, but if it were—I probably would. I’m fucking giddy and horny and abnormally happy all of a sudden. It feels so bizarre.

“What we were actually talking about when you came in,” Jericho says, “is our trip to the Hamptons. But Chris says you’ve got him working weekends now.”

“I’m flexible,” Gibson argues.

“Fabulous.” Her hands come together, and she looks at me. “Now what’s your excuse? I’m waiting.”

“I hate the sun? ”

“No one hates the sun. You’re coming. And there’s more than enough room for a plus one.”

“I—no, we?—”

“I’ll see to it he makes it there,” Gibson says. “Which weekend?”

“The one after next. Fourth of July.”

Annoyed, I take my hand back and put my elbows on the table. “Have you ever been in a house with four other couples in the event that you couldn’t dredge up a plus one?” I ask Jericho.

She looks at me blankly, so I open the question to the rest of the table. “No? Anyone? Memorial Day weekend was like being the kitchen help in a brothel.”

“Oh, please. Name one meal you prepared by yourself.”

“ Breakfast . No one ever joined me for breakfast.”

No clever comebacks for that one.

“I could set you up with someone,” Olivier offers unhelpfully. “Happy to actually.”

I look past Drew to glare at him. He smiles his pretty smile and bats his long eyelashes, but his angel face doesn’t fool me. Drew, being a considerate friend, did his best Memorial Day weekend to keep me from getting bored while all the couples were off doing couple things, which more than once put Ollie into a pout.

I’m guessing it’s some game they play with each other, where they push each other’s buttons until they’re panting and fucking, but I try not to picture that. As good looking as they both are, Drew is like a brother to me, and the idea of him having sex is too weird to contemplate. Especially since I walked in on them the one time back at the old apartment.

Unlike Gibson, I do not have a kink for watching. Speaking of which, I feel the warmth of his arm pressing into mine. His leg, too. It’s turning me on. I give him a look I intend to be chastising, but when our eyes meet, my stomach flips, my dick stiffens, and I’m pretty sure I only wind up looking like I’m ready to suck his cock, which is accurate. “What do you think?” I ask him. “Should I ask The Heir to set me up with a friend to keep me company in the Hamptons?”

“Subtle,” Gibson says with a narrowing of his eyes. The entire table goes silent. “Provided you’re not sick of me in two weeks, I’m happy to keep you company.”

“Hard to find a job with benefits like that, Chris,” Jeremy says.

“He probably will get sick of him, though,” Drew says. “No offense, Mr. Hayes, but my buddy here isn’t exactly down for commitments.”

He’s right, and Gibson knows all this, but maybe Drew should lay off the tequila shots and shut the fuck up. It’s not his fault he doesn’t know about Trinity—I don’t tell anyone about that, but no one likes being called out on their issues at a table full of people, whether they’re friends, hook-ups, bosses, or whatever.

Jericho shoots Drew a look only an ex-girlfriend can deliver, and Drew clears his throat. “Can I get anyone anything? Chris?”

“I’m good,” I tell him. “I promised the boss I’d go look at one of his properties with him tonight, though, so we better get going before it gets to be too late.”

“You can stay for one more drink,” Larry insists.

“He’s right,” Gibson says, already standing.

I rise like I’m attached to him.

Gibson looks at his watch like we’ve got someone to meet elsewhere and not a very sloppy blow job in the back of a car to get to.

At least, that’s the vibe I’m getting. And probably giving.

He shakes Drew’s hand, and Jericho comes around the table to give me a hug. We nod and wave at everyone else, then Gibson puts a hand on the small of my back and guides me to the door.

His driver is waiting outside. Upon seeing Gibson, he opens the back door of a black Lexus SUV .

“Get in,” Gibson commands.

I obey, sliding onto the seat. To my surprise, and absolute pleasure, when Gibson gets into the car, he kneels on the floor, pushes my legs apart and says, “Show me your cock.”

“Me?”

“Now, Christian.”

I try to shove them down like they’re sweats, but my jeans don’t budge on my hips. My fingers fumble with the button and fly, but eventually and clumsily, I manage to dig out my half-erect dick. He grabs me by the hips and yanks my ass to the edge of the seat. “Feed it to me.”

Fuuuckk…

I grab my shaft and rub my crown over his parted lips. His tongue darts out, taking a swipe of my slit, and I exhale harshly. Do I care that there’s no divider between us and the driver? I mean—I notice, and I might have had a moment of reservation before dropping to my knees if he hadn’t done it first, but no—I do not fucking care at all. Gibson’s arms in that t-shirt were enough for me to drop my pants in the middle of the bar.

I lift a hand to put on the back of his head but hesitate. “May I?”

“Feed it to me, Christian,” he says, his voice deadly dark and demanding.

Using my hand to pull him forward, I arch my hips and stuff my cock in his mouth as far as I dare. He hums around it as his eyes close, like he’s never tasted anything better. I don’t have to do much after that.

Using only his mouth, he sucks me until I’m so hard it feels impossible. “Oh, God…” I throw my head back and run a hand across my chest, stiffening my nipples and rubbing them firmly.

I come embarrassingly fast. He gives me a few rough sucks deploying his tongue like a fucking serpent to squeeze me tight, and I blow down his throat without even trying to hold it.

It’s so fast and obliterating, I slide even further down the seat. “ Goddamn,” I curse as he shoves me back into place and swallows my load. “Are we there yet?”

He scoots onto the seat beside me and opens his pants. Before I know what’s happening, he’s guiding my head down. It’s a terrible position, but I’m too boneless to change it. What I’m not is lazy. I wrap my mouth around his thick head and work his foreskin down with my lips. He grips my hair and my neck and proceeds to fuck my face.

He’s not overly rough or too much, but it turns me into a drooling, coughing mess whose only lever of control is tightening my lips to slow him down and keep him from choking me. However—as this goes on for much longer than it took me, I realize what’s happening here.

It’s a steep learning curve, but I get the appeal. It’s not unlike being tied down and fucked. I have almost no control, I’m effectively gagged, and it’s not easy to breathe either. But the sounds he’s making.

The filthy words spilling from his mouth.

“The sight of those pretty lips stretched around my cock. Such a good boy, Christian. That’s it. That’s how you take me. Fuck, yeah—so deep… unnnhhh…yes .”

“You gonna make me come with that dirty mouth, pretty boy? You gonna choke on this dick? Drink my cum?”

“Mmm…mmm…”

My eyes water as he fits himself into my throat, and I fight my gag reflex. Slowly, he eases in further until my jaw feels unhinged, and my nose is smashed against his pubic bone. More suffering. More deliverance. I feel my eyes rolling back as I take him so deep it threatens to cut off my airway.

“ Unh…fuuckkk … Christian ...” My name is the last thing I hear as his cock throbs and spills, forcing me to swallow, which makes him cry out. The sound is as filthy as it is wrecked. “God, you precious thing,” he says, releasing my head from his hold. I cough as I pull off, my drool in strands everywhere as I separate myself from his cock. I sit up just enough to rest my head on his chest and take a few gasping breaths before I feel like I’m not drowning anymore.

He wraps an arm around me and holds me against him, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Perfect.”