1. Chris

ONE

CHRIS

The night started like all others do at Lure.

I got here around one to make sure everything was good and ready for when we open at five. Then when patrons started to come in I got to work behind the scenes, making sure the three bars are stocked and that there's enough ice.

Like always, there was a moment of stress when some dude-bros were complaining about not being let in around nine, since that's when the place is normally full to capacity. But I got through all that like I have since I opened ten months ago.

Opening a gay nightclub inside one of the biggest resorts on the Strip isn't for the faint of heart, that's for damn sure, but if I've learned anything about the job in all this time, it's that everyone deserves a break from time to time.

So when I see my best bouncer excitedly point out a patron with a mop of crushed blond curls to Drake, my best bartender, I'm intrigued.

Then he turns around. And all I can think is yes, please and thank you .

I forget about every single one of my duties as manager and co-owner of the night club as I watch him throw back the shot of tequila like it's water and then smiles tantalizingly at Drake. I can't see his eyes clearly, but the slight crinkle of the corners looks playful and... teasing. Then, like he just got struck, he starts dancing when the beat of the next song comes on, and then he's off to the packed dance floor.

My feet start moving after him before I can think twice about it, and I resist for less than a minute more before I have to feel him. He looks fucking magical with his eyes closed, head thrown back, hands in the air.

His narrow hips move in circles, and a bubble butt if I've ever seen one shakes like an invitation to only brave men.

I'm pretty brave , I think as I wrap my arms around him—at least I think I am. I move my hips as he moves his and hold the fuck on when I feel his ass press against my growing erection.

I bury my nose in the crook of his neck and feel like I'm getting high on him when I smell his cologne—woodsy—mixed with just enough sweat to make my mind go hazy.

Song after song we stay like that, dancing, playing, torturing each other just a bit. Or at least, he's definitely torturing me.

The heat of the club, the movement of people around us would normally make me want to step back, to get some air. But instead, I just press closer. I feel his strong back against my chest. I keep nuzzling his neck, his strong shoulders, and I explore his chest with my hands.

Unless I'm very wrong, the man I'm dancing with is ripped as fuck, and that only makes me want him more. I have a thing for muscles, like I have a thing for having muscles. All they make me think about is nights full of sex. Rough, hard fucking where you only stop when you can't manage a single movement anymore.

When the remix of "Bootylicious" starts, I have my face buried in his neck once more and I hear him talk over the beat. "—drink, okay?" I miss the first part but get the gist of it, so I straighten, let my arms fall to my sides, and take a tiny step back, intent on following him to the bar. He starts walking without looking back, and that only makes me want to follow him even more.

I stop right behind him when he once more approaches Drake's side of the main bar. I signal to my employee that it's on me and to get two of whatever the magical man just ordered, then lean over his shoulder. "And two waters," I think to add.

I never drink on the job, and though I will take a sip of what he ordered now, I want us both to know what the hell we're doing later. Because I will make sure this man wants to go home with me.

He turns around swiftly when I speak, and his bright blue doe-eyes widen when they land on me.

"You don't have green eyes," is the first thing he says, and it's such a weird and endearingly strange thing to say, that my mouth gets away from me.

"No, I don't, baby. They're just brown." Baby? What the fuck? I've never in my life called anyone baby. I open my mouth to take it back when he snaps at me.

"I'm twenty-two years old, you know?" He seems pretty offended, and I would definitely follow through on my plan to take the term back if he didn't look like the cutest angry kitten in the world right now.

All I can do is smile at him. "Okay."

"I'm an adult, for fuck's sake. I'm not a baby."

"And thank God for that," I murmur and let my eyes drink him in for a way too long moment.

His wide shoulders make me think of how perfect it would be to hold on to them while I pound on him from the back. His lean torso makes me think about licking it on my way down to my knees, and his hips are perfect for me to grab onto.

All of him is perfect.

"I meant baby, like sexy as fuck baby," I say when he still hasn't responded and I've finally managed to bring my eyes back up to his. "So, what's your name?"

He swallows hard, his pretty baby blues are wide open again, his mouth slightly open, but I hear him perfectly when he speaks in a whisper—probably because I'm standing toe-to-toe with him.

"Benny."

"Beautiful, baby Benny," I say with a reverence that takes me aback just like the term of endearment did. Seriously, what kind of spell did this guy put me under?

Doesn't matter, I decide, when I focus on him again.

"I'm Chris, Benny." I offer him my hand and bring him even closer to me when he takes it. "And because you're an adult, I plan to do everything in my power to make you want to take me home. In which case, I would love to see what kind of dancing we can do without any clothes on. How does that sound?"

His eyes go down to my mouth and he licks his lower lip. It's the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen.

I growl and trail my hand up his chest to his throat where I squeeze very lightly.

So close, with the club's lights flashing, I see how his eyes darken, and damn if that doesn't turn me on even more.

He places both hands on my hips and crushes his hips to mine so I can feel he's just as hard as I am. "I'm definitely taking you home, but I won't make things that easy for you," he murmurs against my lips, and I snap.

I lean in quickly and slam my mouth against his, seeking entrance immediately. He parts his lips and lets me in.

I don't consider that all my employees can see me right now—who fucking cares? I've never hooked up with anyone from the club but it was bound to happen eventually.

I wrench my mouth away and growl.

"You're fucking precious, baby Benny."

He growls then too, and it's him holding my neck this time. Fucking hell , why does he feel so good?

"I can be way less precious if you play your cards right." He says it like a threat but it sound like fucking heaven.

And also, no matter how much control he takes—something I have nothing against giving him—there's no way he'll stop being precious.

"Okay then, wanna dance some more? Or?—"

"We're leaving now," he says with a determined set to his jaw.

I nod at him, and then nod at Drake behind him who's got a shit-eating grin.

"We've got this, boss," he says over the music.

"Boss?" I hear Benny mumble, but I answer Drake.

"Thanks. Call me if anything happens. "

He nods, and then I'm taking Benny's hand and leading him to the back entrance. I can't get us out of here fast enough.

He stumbles a little when we pass through the employees-only door that leads to the offices and break room, and that's when something else occurs to me. I swivel around so fast he crashes into me. I hold on to his fucking big biceps and try not to get distracted by them.

I can do that later.

"How drunk are you?"

He looks at me, exasperated as hell, and makes me smile.

"I'm only buzzed, since I had a big dinner, but I'll drink a liter of water when we get to my place if it makes you feel better, okay? I know what I'm doing. Now, come on, we have some walking to do."

I follow him silently, happy that his place is close by and that he didn't drive here.

"So, you're the boss at a gay club, huh," he says, almost like a question but not really as I lead him through the hallway.

"Yes," I say simply as I press the button to call the service elevator.

"I bet it's one hell of a story." His enigmatic words have me giving up on staring at the silver doors, and turning to him.

"What is?"

"How you got to this place at... what are you? Twenty-four?"

I chuckle lightly. "I'm twenty-six actually, but I'll take it as a compliment to my skin care routine. "

"You have a skin care routine?" he asks with wonder in the words.

"I do," I say confidently. If he has a problem with that... well, I can't say I won't be fucking disappointed because I will be, but everyone's entitled to their opinions.

"I do too." His words come out excited then and accompanied with a wide smile. "I need to, otherwise I break out like crazy."

Something passes behind his eyes at that, but it's gone before I can figure out what it was. I focus again on his light brown beard and smile. The elevator comes before I can say what I want, so I push him gently with a hand on the curve of his lower back and walk in behind him.

"You have beautiful skin," I say softly after pressing the lobby button. I cup his cheek and lean in to kiss the other one.

"Thanks," he says, and fuck .

"That blush only proves my point."

"What point?"

"You're precious, and even if you tie me up and spank me you won't stop being precious, baby Benny." I close the gap between our lips as I speak until every word I whisper means a caress of lips. Then, when I'm done, I get another taste. I walk him back until his back hits the wall of the elevator and brace my hands on either side of his head.

I get lost in his lips, in the way he devours me with more force than I anticipated, in how he forces his way into my mouth and just takes, takes, and takes expertly.

The ding of the elevator doors opening has me taking a step back. I stare at him, and he's breathing just as hard as I am with his chest heaving up and down .

"Let's go," he growls and takes my hand. He yanks me to walk behind him and I can only smile at his enthusiasm.

There's no more talking as we walk out of the resort, as we weave through drunk or lost tourists, or both. We get to a high rise—one of the new ones I'm pretty sure—and I wonder for just a moment what he does for a living, then dismiss it.

What does it matter?

I will the elevator to go faster when he selects the twentieth floor—the second to last floor in the building. Still in silence, I squeeze his hand on autopilot. Anticipation is ruling me right now.

The possibility of just how hot we can be together, if our first kiss was anything to go by, is the only thing I can think about when the doors open, when he leads me out and down a well-lit hallway, and when he unlocks his door with his phone.

Once we're both inside and the door shuts behind me, I can't take any more. I turn him around by the shoulder and push him against the coats hanging on the wall. Again, I place my hand over his throat—it just feels right—and it has him taking a sharp breath, and opening enough for me to slide in and stroke his tongue with mine. He responds with the same amount of need, pushing inside my mouth with a finesse that has to be innate. He's fucking pulling me apart with a kiss.

A hot freaking kiss that makes me think of sweaty bodies and deep thrusts inside his tight ass. I wrench my mouth away at the mental image. If I let us get carried away I might come in my pants, and there's no way I'm letting this night end that quickly .

"Drink some water, Benny," I command, my voice sounding more growly than ever before.

"Okay," he says breathlessly. Then nods, and repeats, "Okay." He steps around me and through an opening to what I assume is the kitchen, and I take a few seconds to get myself under control again.

He's next to me in the hallway a minute later.

"I'm going to take a shower, just make yourself at home. Take anything you need from the fridge, though there isn't much there since I'm leaving on vacation soon."

I nod and... frown at his back. I'm not really sure why I'm frowning, but that last bit of info has me realizing that maybe, for the first time, I actually want to know more about the man I'm about to fuck. Where is he going on vacation? Who's he going with? I have so many questions...

Well, that's stupid.

And also not happening. Beautiful Benny is clearly in the same boat as me.

I look around, unable to help it, and see a sleek apartment that's sizable enough. I find the living and dining room when I round the corner and see the opening over a breakfast bar to the kitchen. The couch looks inviting enough, and trying to not think about bending Benny over it, I sit on the corner and take out my phone.

I find a text from my other favorite bartender.

Roxy

All good here boss, don't you worry about a thing, we got this covered.

Have fun!

I smirk despite myself .

I haven't taken a night off, except for the Mondays when we're closed, since we first opened last fall, so I've been there for every growing pain we've had. I know the team I've painstakingly put together can handle more than one night in my absence, and the reassurances I got from them only proves my belief in them is well founded.

I fuck around on my phone for twenty more minutes, checking the club's social media accounts—which I'm pleased to see growing and active—and answering my brother's texts, which I'd forgotten to do this morning.

He and I see each other at least once a week, but with both of us working mostly nights, it's not as often as I wish. I ask about seeing him next week, and knowing he's not going to reply tonight, I lock my phone.

Just in time too, since that's when Benny comes out the door on the left side of the room.

Naked.

Completely naked and chugging one of the water bottles.

I can only stare at him, completely speechless as he strides confidently toward me. And why the hell wouldn't he be comfortable with a body like that? His dick is standing up and looks hard enough to pound nails into a wall. His washboard abs glisten with dampness, just like his pecs and arms that look even bigger now without a shirt on.

He stops for a second with his feet right next to mine, looks me in the eyes, then places one knee next to my right hip, then his right one on my other side.

I won't complain about having a hot man straddle me—ever—and taking the invitation for what it is, I place both hands on his hips and let my fingers reach back to his tight ass. I squeeze once, and that has him throwing the empty plastic bottle on the floor and leaning down to fuse his lips to mine.

The force of the kiss has me leaning fully against the backrest, and craning my neck up I let him take control, let him expertly kiss the life out of me, and just feel . I keep one hand on his ass and pull him forward so he can feel the effect he's having on me, and I trail my other hand up his back. Every ridge of muscle bunching under it fuels my need even more.

I'd love nothing more than to watch that back arch as I thrust into him. I want to hear him moan my name, I want...

"Fuck me," he groans against my mouth, then leans down to kiss my neck. "I need you to fuck me, Chris." Goosebumps break out all over my body at the raspy whisper right next to my ear.

"With pleasure, baby."

With my hand that's still on his ass, I reach further back and circle my finger around his hole. I realize then he already must've prepped, at least a little, since I can feel the slickness of the lube.

"You ready?" I ask, not really managing to hide my excitement and amusement at learning he got ready for me in the shower.

"Uh-huh," he says in a breathy whisper. "Just put on a damn condom and let me ride you right here. Then you can fuck me into the mattress for round two."

I chuckle darkly. "You've got it all planned out, huh?" I ask as I slide just the tip of my index finger into him. It's effortless, there's no resistance, like he's sucking me in. More than half my finger gets swallowed up by the heat .

"Yes." There's still a slight helplessness in his tone, but also a new strength. "Fuck me, right the fuck now, Chris." I look up at the sharpness and see just enough desperation in his eyes to make me feel more flattered than anything else.

"You got it. Lift off a little," I say, but it's more of a request than a command. He wants to take control, to keep the control, and that's more than fine by me.

I take out my wallet and the condom inside, then open my jeans and take out my cock all in less than half a minute. Still not quick enough for Benny it seems because he takes the condom from me and slides it down my erection without any fanfare.

Before I can brace myself for it, he's lifting off even higher, keeping my dick upright with one hand and balancing himself on my shoulder with the other, then there's only heat and tight, and oh my fucking God .

He doesn't take all of me in at once, but starts bouncing up and down at a fast pace right away. I place one hand on his forearm and the other on his thigh, just trying to find something to hold on to. It feels like I'm falling, like I'm flying, like I'm floating out in space.

"Benny," I croak out, helplessly. "Jesus Christ, baby, just..." I trail off, not capable of saying anything else when he sits fully on me.

"Feels so good," he mumbles. I look up to see his eyes closed, a slight frown scrunching up his eyebrows and his lower lip trapped by his teeth. He rises, and doesn't stop again. His cock bouncing between us steals my attention, and still unable to fully keep up with him or to speak, I manage to wrap my hand around it .

I take the few drops of precome leaking out of his tip and use it to help my hand slide down.

"Chris." He moans my name just like I fantasized about. "Fuck me hard, Chris." There's a plea in there, and I really wish I could fulfill his wishes, but there's just no way I can do much more than jack him off.

He's caught me off guard, he's rendered me helpless. He's about to make me come. And I don't plan on doing it alone, so I gather all the strength I have and stroke him faster, grip him tighter.

"Faster, baby," I manage to say in a groan. I trail a hand up his chest where once more it seems to find a spot that fits just right at the base of his throat. I barely squeeze as I keep encouraging him. "Ride me faster. You're gonna make me come, Benny. You feel so damn good around me. Make me come, beautifu?—"

I'm cut off by the force of my orgasm. He tightens even more around me when I twist my wrist on a stroke toward his tip, and he's spilling over my shirt and fist while squeezing me so tight it brings the best kind of pain.

We both groan and moan our way through the pleasure, and when we finally stop twitching and shaking, it's like he melts into me and I into him. His face falls right next to mine against the backrest of the couch, his once all-tense body now soft and pliant over me.

I can't even muster up the will to move my hand from between us where it's still gripping him, though loosely now.

I feel my cock start to slip out of him as I catch my breath and can't seem to care enough to do anything about it. I just place my free hand on his back and stroke up and down—it's all I'm capable of right now—and it doesn't occur to me until I've got my breath back and my heart rate is back to normal that for the first time ever, cuddling after sex isn't something I'm repelled by.

Questions plague my mind.

What is it about this man?

What drove him to go to a gay nightclub alone in the first place?

And most important of all, how is he going to surprise me next?