Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Yeah, me too.”
I turn to head for my room, but his voice stops me. “Cody?”
“Yep?” I turn to face him.
“Thank you for tonight. For listening and for being a friend.”
“No problem, boo.” I wink at him. “Now if you’ll excuse me, porn and a really serious jackoff session awaits.”
Without another word, I disappear inside my room.
9
Hayden
I wipe down my previous table before moving on to one the host just seated with four guys in tanks and short-sleeved shirts. One hottie, in particular, catches my eye. He’s got a sleeve tattoo and a bushy beard—the kind I bet feels good against your face while you’re fucking. It doesn’t take but a glance from his sparkling blue eyes before my dick shifts in my pants.
Damn, he’s hot.
After the big Halloween night catastrophe two weeks ago, I haven’t gotten any action, so I’m just as horny as always. As I explain the menu to the hottie’s table, my gaze keeps shifting back to him, and even though his friends are giggling at how obvious we’re being, apparently neither of us gives a shit.
I take their drink orders, head into the kitchen, grab a few trays off the counter, and search for another table’s orders. They’re still not out yet, and every time they ask about their food, they get more and more agitated. Sure as fuck not getting a good tip from them tonight.
“Troy, really?” I ask the cook. “Please tell me they’re not sitting around waiting for hot wings and salmon for nothing.”
“It’s a busy night,” Troy replies. “I’m doing the best I can. I already have Alberta barking down my throat about a tuna salad sandwich, so step in line.”
As I start back into the restaurant, I’m thinking about how much I need to take a leak when the owner, Bart, steps through the back door. With paperwork in his hands, I can tell by the expression on his face that he needs my help.
“Bart, I’m sure it’s important, but my shift is up in an hour. Can we just wait until I get some relief before we go over this?”
“I think I fucked up something in QuickBooks.”
“I’m sure you did, but I promise I can fix it. Just let me handle all this shit I have here right now.”
“Okay, okay.”
He turns and walks back out the door, into the restaurant with me.
He must be relieved I’m gonna help him out, but I’m stressed as fuck considering I’m already pulling a double.
For the next half hour, I’m on edge until I finally steal a moment for a restroom break.
I hear the door open behind me, and a guy steps in front of the urinal right beside me—a little weird, considering there are three others further down he could have picked for some space. But as I catch his arm within my periphery, I see it’s the tattooed hottie I’ve been having eye-sex with every time I approach his table.
He unzips his fly and pulls out a big dick, hard as a rock. He strokes it and turns to me. I don’t let up my gaze or discourage him. It doesn’t take him long before he closes his eyes and shoots, a long stream of come slamming against the urinal.
“Holy fucking shit,” I mutter, even though I just meant to say that in my head.
His eyes are sealed shut, his lip curled into a smile. And I’m disappointed that I didn’t have a chance to play with it.
The guy wipes his wet dick off with his palm and then slides his thick girth back into his pants before zipping and buttoning up.
With his clean hand, he reaches into his back pocket, retrieves a business card, and hands it to me.
He heads to the sink and washes his hands, leaving me reeling in a big what-the-fuck moment. The experience keeps me stiff as I finish up my shift. Then I help Bart with the crap he was struggling with in QuickBooks.
After I finally clock out and leave the restaurant, I retrieve the guy’s card from my back pocket and check out his deets: Sebastian Reanes.
I recognize the name. He’s a DJ who spins at some of the bars and clubs around town.
Now I’m intrigued.
I pull up the Facebook app on my phone and search for his name. When I find him, I consider friending him right away but hesitate.
If I friend him now, he might want to go ahead and mess around tonight.
I know Cody’s right. I need to take these opportunities when they come…especially when they’ve already come, but at the same time, I find myself being pulled in another direction since that Halloween party at Flirt.
The next day, I call Lance up and explain what’s really going on. He sounds skeptical. Like he’s sure I’m doing something shady. I don’t know why I’m so concerned about what he thinks, but we were together for three years, and considering he’s treating me like I’m some sort of nympho, I feel like I have a right to defend myself.