Page 7 of Spoil Me, Daddy
“I’m assuming things with Delia aren’t good.” Zaire didn’t understand their open relationship, but it wasn’t up to him to understand it. He supported Rod when he needed it and hoped things didn’t go wrong for him.
“She’s being difficult again. I told her where I was going, so it’s not like she doesn’t know what might happen.” Rod’s gaze searched the masses as he spoke.
Zaire couldn’t imagine sleeping with someone else when the perfect person was waiting at home for him. It didn’t sit right with him, but it wasn’t his relationship, so he had no right to a say in it. “God, I need a drink. What do you want?”
“Beer, please.”
“Two beers and a whiskey, please!” Zaire yelled to the bartender. As he waited, he spun the cardboard coaster advertising a beer brand and yawned. He shouldn’t even be here.
“You look like you need a drink.”
Zaire turned to face a slim guy with shoulder-length dark hair, bright green eyes and a wicked grin.
“I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not.” He raised his eyebrows in question.
“It’s a good thing because it means I can ask you if I can buy you a drink to help.”
“I’ve got one on its way, but maybe next time.” Zaire liked the guy’s confidence, and his appearance didn’t hurt either.
“Sure. I’m happy to hang around until you finish the one you have.” The guy held out his hand. “Name’s Griff.
“Zaire.”
When his drinks arrived, he passed a beer to Rod, placed the whiskey in front of him and slid the other beer over to Griff.
“I thought I was buying you a drink.”
“Both of these were for me, but if you help me drink that one, you’ll get to buy me a drink a lot faster.” Zaire winked and slammed the whiskey back.
Griff chuckled. Zaire saw it in his shoulders rather than heard it, and he watched unabashedly as Griff lifted the bottle to his lips and drank, his Adam’s apple repeatedly bobbing as he swallowed. Zaire had not planned on finding a date tonight. He’d decided to go home and sleep as soon as Rod had found someone, but Griff seemed like too good a choice to pass up.
“I love what you’re wearing,” Griff whispered in Zaire’s ear. “You look so fucking sexy.”
Zaire grinned. “Thanks. I feel it.”
He had chosen tights under three-quarter length teal-coloured trousers and a black off the shoulder chenille jumper. Comfortable but stylish—his own style; he loved mixing it up. His makeup was barely there but with a shimmer to his skin.
Griff’s gaze slid over his body again, appreciation evident in his eyes.
A beer bottle slammed down next to him, making him jump. “I’m out,” Rod said, and Zaire turned to watch as he stalked towards a woman who eyed him like her next meal.
“A friend of yours?”
“Yeah, best friend. I was the wingman tonight.”
“Looks like you both got lucky.”
Zaire snorted. “You’re full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Would you prefer me to be meek and timid?”
“No. It’s refreshing.”
Griff leaned forward. “Would you be happy to continue this somewhere else?”
“What about the drink?”
“You can have a drink if you want it.” Griff shrugged. “Or we can skip it this time.”
