Page 11 of Waiting on Life
“God, you’re hot.”
His eyes opened wide. “Excuse me?”
Realizing what I’d said, I did my best to backtrack, because right now I needed a job way more than I needed Toby inside me.
“I said it’s hot. You want another beer?” He started to stand, but I held up my hand. “Let me get it for you.”
At that moment Waldo leaped onto Toby’s lap and pressed against him. Damn lucky cat.
Toby settled back in the chair. “Thanks,” he muttered, “but I should get to bed. I need to be up early. I need to find me a server so I can finally get a day off.”
And there it was, laid out in the open. I’d already told him I had experience, and I expected him to pounce on that. Of course, he didn’t.
“What about me?”
“You?” He arched an eyebrow. “You ever been to No Angels? We’re not exactly your type of place.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or not. I mean, he could be genuinely looking out for my wellbeing, or he could be snarky and think I wasn’t able to handle myself. I went with the latter.
“Excuse me?”
“Our clientele is kinda… rough.”
“You haven’t met my mother,” I tossed out. “Look, I can do the job, at least as long as you give me a fair shot.”
His gaze narrowed, but then he sighed. “I do need someone, and you seem eager enough.”
“But?”
Toby blew out a breath. “But nothing. Come down tomorrow and fill out the paperwork. We’ll get you started right away, if you think you’re ready.”
I was ready, willing, and able. And apparently I’d gotten a job.
Chapter Four
Toby
The apartment was quiet after I showed Kyle out. Maybe a little too quiet. I never noticed before how much some simple conversation could make the place not so dreary.
After I slid the chain onto the door, I dragged my carcass to the bedroom and slipped out of the robe, which I hung on the handle of the closet. I snapped off the light and slid under the covers, eager to be welcomed into Morpheus’s arms.
And… nothing.
I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, thoughts whirling in my mind. Why had Kyle come? Sure, he was upset about what Pete had said, but was it really something to get that worked up over? And what was the deal with the cooking? Not that I would complain, because it had tasted amazing, but it seemed weird. And finally, did he really say it was hot? I admit, I was dead on my feet and had only partially listened when he was talking, but I would have sworn he’d said…. Nah, couldn’t have been.
Wishful thinking?
“Fuck no,” I muttered to the dark room. “He’s a dude, and I donotdo dudes.”
Yet you have those gay guys working at the bar….
“My sister—”
Really? You’re going to blame it on your sister? Pretty sure you’re the one who hired them.
Internal me was a prick but wasn’t wrong. Sure, I probably would have had double the business if I’d hired attractive women, but despite the hard outer shell, I’d always been a soft touch. Each of the guys had needed a job, and if you hand me a sob story, I would be standing there with my wallet out. And besides, I had no interest in them in that way, and as far as I knew, neither did the guys at the bar. They treated the boys decent, so it worked out for everyone involved.
I yawned yet again. No matter what, I needed sleep. When I was a kid, I learned the fastest way to fall asleep was to tug one out. That always put me under faster than fast. I reached under the blankets and stroked a hand over my dick. It perked immediately, a fact of which I was proud. I slid my fingers over the skin and moaned. Hot, throbbing, needy. Yep, that was me in a nutshell.
