Page 7 of Perfect Night

The guy he’d crashed into was sex on a stick. A big, tall, muscular stick. He was another one wearing a suit and had to be six foot five. He towered over Charlie’s respectable five foot eleven. The black hair, slate-blue eyes and five o’clock shadow were checking more of Charlie’s boxes. After a few seconds of literally drooling, Charlie realised the guy had hold of his arms as he’d steadied him.

“Sorry,” he spluttered.

“No problem at all. Are you okay?”

He had a strange accent, a blend of American and British.

“Was that guy giving you trouble?”

Oh God, he’s nice as well.There had to be something wrong with him. Nobody was this perfect. He felt like a horny teenager again, wanting to get his hands and tongue all over that body. It took all his restraint to not start humping Spartacus’s leg. Until he had a name, ‘Spartacus’ was what he was going with. He had a gladiator vibe about him. Woof!

“It’s fine. He did me a favour by sending me your way.”

Oh my God, did I just say that? Kill me now!

“I’m Sebastian.” He smiled, holding out his hand.

Sebastianwas an even hotter name thanSpartacus.Charlie wasn’t sure why; it was just a fact. There was also something about Sebastian. He shook Charlie’s hand, which was formal, but didn’t seem out of place. The guy just oozed confidence. Charlie wondered if that confidence transferred to the bedroom. He needed to stop with those thoughts, or the leg-humping would be an embarrassing reality.

“Charlie,” he said, introducing himself.

“Are you here with anyone?”

“Just my flatmate, who was humping the leg of some bear when I left him.”

Sebastian laughed. It changed his face completely. This was a guy who was confident and controlled, yet when he let go, Charlie could see there was a fun side. Charlie wanted to know it all.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Sebastian asked.

Charlie would be stupid to say no. He didn’t know why a guy like this was giving him the time of day, but he’d had a shit week, so he was just going to go with it. Charlie agreed. Sebastian took his hand, which was sweet and possessive at the same time.

The crowd seemed to part, probably because of Sebastian’s size. A few twinks spotted their joined hands and glared with jealousy. It was a heady feeling, and Charlie was enjoying it while it lasted.

It surprised him when they walked past the bar and towards a door. Oh God, was he going to be taken to some sex dungeon to be murdered? He knew Sebastian was too good to be true. Before he said anything, they approached the door, which had a security guard standing at it. How had Charlie never seen this before? The security guard nodded at Sebastian in recognition and opened the door.

They entered another bar, which was much quieter. It had a chill-out lounge feel to it. The music had a lower volume and less bass. There were comfortable chairs, sofas, and booths dotted around, and the place was about half-full. There were conversations going on, but there was a calmness too.

“I thought it’d be easier to talk in here,” said Sebastian.

“I didn’t even know this place existed and I’ve been coming here for years.”

Sebastian chuckled and moved his hand to the small of Charlie’s back, guiding him to the bar. Again, it was possessive, sweet, and hot as hell.

“What can I get you?” asked the barman.

Charlie hesitated. He’d been drinking cocktails, but he felt it was rude to ask for an expensive drink when someone else was buying, although he doubted Sebastian was hurting for money. This was clearly a VIP or membership bar. Fuck it!

“Margarita, please.”

Sebastian smiled. “Jack and Coke, no ice. Thanks.”

“Where’s your accent from?”

“I was born here, but lived in New York for the past thirty years.”

Charlie was trying to do the maths in his head.

“I’m forty-two. That okay?”

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