Page 31 of The Chameleon

Year after year, he became angrier and angrier, watching all the men around him hook up and boast about their conquests. Meanwhile, here he was, being forced to get his dick sucked at glory holes and in the back of dark rooms, all in an attempt to shield his face and mask his true identity.

Very few realize how lonely it can be not to have that human connection… that desired intimacy during sexual activity. While blowing your load may feel good and provide an immediate endorphin rush, it does not fill that void left in your heart once you tuck your dick back in your drawers and pull up your pants.

Now, after he’d spent almost twenty years building a criminal empire, he had finally accomplished his goal. He was rich and powerful, and people now fearedhim.

Eyes floating around the room, he was in awe of what Matteo had built. All around him, people looked happy. Free and happy.

“I’m proud of you,” Ares whispered under his breath.

“Can I get you a drink, Mr. Ares?” a smooth voice asked, cutting through his train of thought.

The bartender gave Ares a small nod, waiting patiently for him to answer.

Ares was pretty sure the young man’s name was Shawn, but he couldn’t recall for sure. Usually, when he stopped in, his attention was focused on other things, or should he say, someone else.

“Yes. Please. I’ll have a whiskey,” Ares responded, sitting his ass down on the fancy black and silver barstool that Matteo most likely had custom-made and flown in from God-knows-where. The man had impeccable taste… and money coming out of his ass.

Ares watched as the bartender turned to grab the bottle of whiskey off the shelf behind him.

The shelves, just like everything else in this fantasy realm, were stunning and majestic. The shelves sat in front of a mirrored wall that glowed purple from the professionally installed bar lighting. Each bottle that stood on display looked as though it held the secrets to the universe if only you took one sip.

“Your name’s Shawn, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” the bartender replied, grabbing a glass and filling it with Scotland’s finest. He placed the drink in front of Ares, giving him a teasing smile. “Enjoy your drink, sexy.” The man gave him a wink before turning his attention to another guest waiting at the bar.

Handsome men like Shawn had the world at their fingertips. All they needed to do was ask, and they could pretty much get anything they so desired. Ares was pleased to see that the young man’s good looks hadn’t gone completely to his head. He was polite and sweet and appeared to enjoy engaging with the clients he was serving.

Reaching into his suit jacket, Ares pulled out a fifty and placed it into the large tip glass set discreetly at the side of the bar.

The place was packed.

“How’s the bullet hole?” a voice over Ares’s left shoulder asked.

Turning on his stool, Ares was greeted by a half-naked Jared, smirking, standing with his thumbs resting on the waistband of his underwear.

Jesus, man. Was every guy in this place a walking sex dream?

The man was shirtless, wearing only a tight pair of red boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination. His bulge hung low, carrying the weight of his package down in his briefs.

Seriously. Did the guy have back problems?

It was difficult not to stare, especially when the outline of the guy’s dick was so prevalent in his briefs. Ares may be almost double the young man’s age, but still… he was only human.

Shaking the dirty thoughts from his head, he did his best to keep his eyes above the beefcake’s broad shoulders.

The last time he had seen Jared, they were trudging around through a sewer on their way to rescue Jared’s boyfriend, Isaac. That was also the operation where Ares stupidly got shot while jumping in front of a bullet to save their fearless leader—the man currently nowhere to be found.

“It’s all closed up. No longer leaking blood all over Matteo’s expensive sheets,” Ares finally answered, taking a sip of his whiskey and waiting for the delicious burn of the amber liquid to fill his raspy throat.

Jared let out a snort-chuckle. “Yeah, M wouldn’t stop bitching about how you were ruining his Egyptian cotton sheets.”

“Yet, he kept replacing them every day with another set of the same expensive sheets.”

“Yeah, that’s M for you. He acts tough and mean, but deep down, he’s nothing but a softy.” Jared’s face took on a brightness as he talked about his boss. It was clear that he idolized his boss and mentor. Ares couldn’t agree more.

“So, how are things with you and your guy?” Ares asked, focusing on the black rims that surrounded Jared’s chestnut eyes.

Jared stole a glance over his shoulder, no doubt pretending not to check out his blue-haired partner in crime.

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