Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Emily had been a good girlfriend, after all. One of the better ones I’d ever had. She had pretended to laugh it all off. She had screamed before she started laughing, though, when she opened my laptop to see a guy getting spit-roasted by two other dudes—one thick, long cock in his ass and another sliding onto his outstretched tongue. The video had been full-screen, full-volume, and unmistakable, and to my utter embarrassment, it was just one of ten open tabs on my browser, all of which had titles like Buff Straight Guy Gets Railed Hard or Hung Dude Gets Blown by Anonymous Twink.
Needless to say, Emily had found out my secret. Almost nobody else knew I was into both men and women. And even though she said it was fine, and that she understood that porn tastes and fetishes didn’t have to mean anything, she had slowly started to distance herself from me. She was weirded out. We both knew it. She and I had never had issues with porn before—we talked about it openly, and we’d even had plenty of hot nights where we watched it together, although all of it had been straight porn.
To Emily, this was clearly different. I wasn’t exactly shocked when I showed up at her apartment one night with surprise takeout and walked in to find some other dude’s head between her legs.
It was still a punch in the gut, even though I’d seen it coming from a mile away. She could have at least had the decency to break up with me first. I’d been single ever since, for the first time in years. I’d always had a girlfriend by my side. I was what my brother liked to call a “partner person”—I liked having someone by my side, someone to care about, someone to do all of the fun things with.
After Emily ditched me, I had decided that I needed to be single for a while. Being alone was fine. I was capable of it. But something always felt a little emptier when it was just me. I did my security guard shifts. I worked out. I trained. I slept. And now my lifelong curiosity about what it might be like to be with another dude was running through my mind again.
I sipped my beer slowly. The bar’s cook, Perry, also kept glancing out from the kitchen door window, cutting glances at the stranger at the bar, too. He walked out, whispering to Sam.
“He’s still here, I can’t believe it,” Perry whispered.
“He looks like Timothee Chalamet, doesn’t he?” Sam whispered back to him.
“Better than Timothee Chalamet, even. It’s amazing.”
I had no clue who that Timothee person was, but I never knew anything about pop culture, so that wasn’t exactly a surprise.
Why was everybody so fixated on that random guy at the end of the bar? What the hell was going on here? The way he was slumped made me think he must have been pretty damn drunk, even though it was early.
Had he been causing some trouble before I walked in?
My security senses perked up, even though I was off-duty and honestly would rather be relaxing than working. But I had to figure out why people were acting so weird around him. Before I’d been a security guard, I had been a bouncer at a club, and after my years in this line of work, I could never really turn it off.
“Everything been all right around here this afternoon?” I asked Red as he slid a frosty glass of amber ale in front of me.
“Just another day,” Red said. “All good.”
Asking Red was no use. He was cool as a cucumber at all times, and certainly not the type to let on that anything was bothering him. I wasn’t going to get any info out of him.
I took a big swig of beer and headed down a few stools to sit one seat away from the mysterious guy.
Sure, my confidence went right out the window when I thought about approaching men for a hookup. But when I had to approach someone for security reasons—any reasons—there was nothing that would stop me.
“Evening,” I said, looking his way.
“Fuck,” the guy said in a hiss-whisper, elongating the word for at least three seconds. “Is it really evening, already?” He turned to glance out the window. His voice was lower than I’d been expecting based on his small, slim frame. A little velvety, too. It was a nice voice, even if he sounded pretty trashed. “Nah. I still see sunlight. I haven’t wasted the whole day yet. Just… most of it.”
He hiccuped once as he finally turned to look me in the eyes.
Holy lord.
I was beginning to see why Sam and Perry might have been cutting glances at the guy.
He was drop-dead gorgeous. Model-level gorgeous. It wasn’t every day I saw somebody like this in our little Podunk down of Amberfield, Kansas, that was for sure.