Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
His stuff was where he’d left it that afternoon, so he grabbed his bag and tugged it across his shoulder. Then he maneuvered into the darkness of the club as stealthily as he could. The music washed over him like a blanket of sound that drowned out everything else, even his own pain. Yes, his ankle throbbed like a motherfucker, but the music? Damn, it cured all that ailed him.
Z stuck to the shadows and found a relatively free corner to hide in while he waited for the boys to take the stage.
When the DJ announced the Sassy Boyz, the crowd erupted in cheers. Z’s stomach clenched with the desire to be up there with them. He wanted to dance.
Not being able to pissed him off more than anything else right then. Like the universe couldn’t even let him have that one little thing that brought a little bit of joy to his life. No. He needed to be miserable.
Well, bravo, universe. You won.
He was starving, fatigued and broken. There was nothing left to take away.
With a determined lift of his chin and a resigned breath, he headed for Castor’s office. Ready to beg.
Z didn’t bother knocking. Big mistake. The door swung open and Z stepped inside.
“What the f—” Z stared at the naked guy sprawled on Castor’s couch jerking his cock with one hand and fingering his own asshole with the other. The sofa-kid’s movements stuttered and he lowered his legs like he was done.
“Did I tell you to stop?” Castor asked. He sat behind his desk with an unlit cigar hanging from his teeth, his pudgy fingers wrapped around a half-full crystal glass.
The kid’s eyes widened and he shook his head.
“Keep going till you nut all over yourself, you got it?”
A nod.
“I’ll come back.” Z turned to leave.
“Too late for that. Why aren’t you onstage?”
“I fell off my pedestal.”
“What happened?”
“The dangers of platform heels.”
Z tried to look anywhere but the couch. Unfortunately, he couldn’t block the squish-squish sound of that lubed hand sliding over hard flesh.
“Is that what you burst in here to tell me? For fuck’s sake, it could have waited.”
“No, I wanted to talk to you.”
“Well, close the fucking door then.”
Z pushed it shut with a quick click. “Don’t you have a fucking bedroom for this shit?”
“He’s auditioning, dumbass.”
“For what? Your sex slave?”
“Paco here needs cash. He wants to be a porn star, don’t you, Paco?” The kid licked his lips and shoved another finger in his hole. “Good boy.”
The praise made Z sick, it was so greasy. “Gross.”
“What’s the matter? You think you’re too good for porn? You can’t tell me you never jacked off to dirty clips before. I know better. My site gets ten thousand hits a day from fucking wankers needing to get off quick. You hear that, Paco, ten thousand guys spilling seed to your sweet ass.”
The kid groaned and Castor laughed. “See? He likes it.”
Z didn’t reply, he was too busy trying not to gag. It wasn’t the act or the idea of being watched that was making him queasy, it was Castor’s oily presence. Castor always made him shudder; having a naked guy in the room masturbating just made it worse.
“Are you just going to stand there all night or are you going to tell me what you wanted?” Castor asked.
“To talk to you about letting Ansel off the hook.” Ansel wouldn’t be taking the bullet for Z missing this performance. He didn’t give a shit about the deal Castor had struck—there was no way he’d let his friend suffer for this.
“We made an agreement.” Those thick shoulders lifted.
“I twisted my fucking ankle, Castor. It’s not like I flaked on purpose. If I could be up there, I would.”
“Not my problem.”
Paco let out a breathy moan. Z couldn’t believe he was having this conversation right here, right now. Like it was completely fucking normal.
“Be reasonable, there’s nothing I can do. Ansel doesn’t deserve to take the blame.”
“Christ, you boys are all bleeding hearts, you know that? Willing to sacrifice yourself for one another. It’s absurd because you’re all fucking train wrecks.”
Z locked his jaw so tight it hurt just so he wouldn’t curse Castor to hell and back. “What’s it gonna take?”
Another high-pitched sob, this time muffled, drew Castor’s attention. His fat tongue came out to wet his lips, desire written on his face clear as the crystal in his hand. Something calculating made his thin mouth curl up in a sick little smirk and he met Z’s eyes with an open challenge.
“Let Paco suck you off.”
Z clenched his fists tight enough for his nails to bite his palms. “Fuck you.”
Castor’s smile widened. “That’s my price. I don’t need anything from any of you boys. I’m through negotiating. Take it or leave it.”
Z took in Paco’s hooded gaze from across the room. There was a strange mix of hope and fear and lust in the kid’s eyes. Z felt sorry for him. He was setting himself up to be used, and he’d be used so hard he’d never be so innocent or hopeful again. He’d grow bitter too.