Page 18 of Flirt
Just sitting across a table from him while drinking overpriced, sugary coffee felt right in a way that scared the hell out of him. That thought alone had led him to one very important conclusion somewhere around midnight on Wednesday.
He needed to find someone warm and willing to sink his dick into, or he was going to go out of his goddamn mind.
He still found Cameron slipping into his thoughts throughout the next day, but with his new determination, it was nothing he couldn’t easily remedy. All he needed was a volunteer, and a couple of hours to fuck the memoryof that easy smile and those icy blue eyes right out of his head for good.
And that was the story of how he had ended up plastered to the back of some twink on the dance floor of Outlaws that Thursday night. His heart pounded, his hips gyrated, and sweat beaded across his brow before sliding down his temples to dampen his hair. Slipping his fingers beneath the hem of the guy’s thin cotton shirt, he groaned when his fingers encountered smooth, warm skin.
Too bad the tight ass pressed against his groin didn’t do a damn thing for him.
“I haven’t seen you in here in a while,” the little blond said over his shoulder. When Asher stilled, he laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry. I’m not stalking you.”
The familiar words triggered memories of a round ass encased in preppy, pressed slacks, paired with a conservative polo, and bam! Instant boner.
“Oh,” the blond purred, adding a little extra thrust to his hips, “someone just got really happy.”
Yes, but for all the wrong reasons. Fuck, he needed another drink.
Releasing the little blond, he spun him into the arms of a new dance partner—I’m not a total ass—then shoved his way toward the bar through the throng of moving bodies. Just as he reached the first empty barstool, he found his gaze inexplicably drawn toward the entrance, and hegroaned out loud as he watched Cameron fucking Stone walk through the front door.
Nico stood a few feet away, his head bent toward an attractive man dressed in a tight, black tank and loose-fitting jeans. After a brief hesitation, they started toward the bar, but Asher noticed them only in his periphery, because it was the gorilla plastered to Cameron’s side that held most of his attention. With his inky hair styled in an edgy cut and his overly developed muscles, he looked like he had strolled right off a magazine cover.
Yeah, okay, so he was hot—in ame, Tarzankind of way. A simple white tee clung to his bulging pecs, and his dark-wash jeans molded around his thighs, the fabric straining with every step he took. A feral grin curved one side of his thin lips every time his gaze raked over Cameron, and Asher couldn’t decide if the guy wanted to fuck him or eat him.
Not my business. Asher repeated the mantra a couple of times, but when his attention turned to Cameron, the words grounded to a halt.
For the most part, he didn’t look any different. His pressed, black slacks fit him to perfection, and his black-and-yellow checkered polo highlighted the golden undertones of his skin. Asher couldn’t see his shoes, but his imagination supplied a pair of shiny, black loafers. Cameron always wore loafers with his dress pants.
He looked as he usually did, polished and sophisticated, but something seemed different…wrong. It didn’t take Asher long to pinpoint the change.
Instead of the easygoing smile and open expression he’d become accustom to, Cameron held himself so rigidly a stiff wind might have shattered him. He smiled when the lumbering jackass said something close to his ear, but it strained at the edges. His hands balled into fists at his sides, and his eyes darted toward the door several times as if plotting his escape.
When Tarzan placed a big paw in the center of Cameron’s chest, he visibly cringed at the contact. The press of his lips and the slight rounding of his shoulders would probably go unseen by anyone else—his date obviously hadn’t detected it—but Asher had been watching him so intently, he couldn’tnotnotice.
Still not my business.
He’d come to the club to forget about Cameron Stone, and he intended to do exactly that. When he’d been getting ready for the evening, he’d told himself he needed a change of scenery, a different herd to cull from, so he’d chosen to head to Outlaws. He’d been to the club a few times, but he much preferred the vibe and music at Swerve. His decision had nothing to do with Cameron or hoping to avoid a run-in with him.
It had been a lot easier to tell himself that and believe it before he’d seen Cameron walk through the door.Maybeit’s fate.Asher snorted and shook his head.More like an epic joke of the cosmos.
He hadn’t consciously chosen a seat at the end of the bar where the light shined just a little dimmer, but it worked to his advantage. Cameron hadn’t seen him yet, and if he stayed put, he’d probably be able to slip away without being spotted. It was still early in the night, early enough for him to relocate to Swerve, find a willing partner, and take the party back to his place.
Or a semi-private bathroom stall. He wasn’t choosy.
He told himself that, but when his eyes flickered back to the entrance just as Cameron’s date touched the side of his face and leaned in to kiss him, Asher kind of lost his grip on reality. An emotion too foreign and fleeting flared inside him, and he found himself halfway to the entrance before he’d even realized his intent to move. If Cameron had looked receptive to the kiss, he might not have felt the need to intervene. If the grabby asshole hadn’t been twice Cameron’s size and manhandling the fuck out of him, Asher might have minded his own business.
And if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
When Tarzan tried again, leaning in even closer, Asher nearly launched himself across the remaining twenty feet. The date paused in his attempted assault—yeah, that’s how I’m going to think of that almost-kiss—and finally stepped away, dropping his arms to his sides. He didn’t look remotelyrepentant as he laughed and shook his head, his lips moving to form words Asher couldn’t hear.
Cameron straightened and took a measured step back, his fingers going to the collar of his polo. Right in that moment, he looked murderous, but the second his eyes landed on Asher, a dick-hardening smile lit up his entire face.
Without thinking too hard about what he was doing, Asher closed the distance and pulled Cameron into what he hoped would be taken as a friendly, platonic hug. “Hey, I thought that was you.”
“Asher.” Cameron breathed his name like a prayer, pressing his face into the side of his neck. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
It might have been his imagination, but he thought he detected a hint of relief in Cameron’s voice, as if not seeing him again had been undesirable. Maybe. Probably. It was a little hard to concentrate with that lithe body molded down his front. Fuck, it felt good to finally touch him, even in a non-sexual way. Cameron fit so perfectly against him, and even better, he clearly wanted to be there.
A sound of a throat clearing drew him out of the moment, and he locked eyes with Tarzan over Cameron’s shoulder. He knew the embrace had gone far beyond anything platonic or familial, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
