Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“Only nice?” Vince asked, pulling his underwear on.
Colby didn’t turn away.
Felt his cock stir again.
“Really fucking nice.”
“Oh my God. You’re the worst flirt ever,” Vince teased. “Finish getting dressed, and we can go anywhere for breakfast. I’m starving. As long as you feed me, I don’t care what it is.”
Colby’s pulse rapped a faster beat against his skin, his chest fluttery. “Okay. Feeding you is something I can definitely do.”
He finished getting ready, wearing a smile the whole time.
They spent the day exploring Asheville and the surrounding area, before going out to a late dinner and then returning to the hotel to get ready for the gay bar.
It had been a really fun day, one of the best Colby could remember in a long time. Now, nervous butterflies danced around in his stomach, though he couldn’t say why. It wasn’t as if he’d never been to a gay bar before. Maybe because tonight there was a possibility that Vince would bring a man back to the hotel? Would it be weird being in the next room and knowing that Vince was having sex with someone so close by?
His mind flashed to what Vince had told him last night, about letting his old friend watch him have sex, and then to what he had seen today—Vince naked.
Vince’s ass.
Vince’s cock.
Oh yeah, and he couldn’t forget the fact that he’d gotten hard.
“Here. I brought this shirt for you.” Vince tossed him a blue shirt. It had three buttons on the top, but no collar and was short-sleeved. “It’ll look good on you. You might end up fighting the boys off all night, but that’s a nice boost to the ego, right?”
Colby chuckled but remained seated on the edge of the bed without putting it on.
“Are you good?” Vince asked, concern in the deep timbre of his voice.
“Yeah. For sure. Sorry.” He stood and pulled the shirt on. “Jesus, why do you make me wear clothes that are so tight?” Colby moved his arms around. Never mind that Vince wasn’t making him do a damn thing. He’d brought it for Colby, and Colby had put it on easily. If he didn’t want to, he just had to say.
“Because tight is hot.”
Vince always looked good in tight shirts, so he got it, and…there went that thought again. About how Vince looked.
“So, I look hot?” He didn’t know why he asked that but didn’t take it back. He didn’t have to overthink things with Vince.
“Babe…if you were queer, I would want nothing more than a go at you.”
A tremble ran down Colby’s spine, one that filled his stomach with heat.
“Come on. Let’s go,” Vince said before Colby had a chance to answer. He grabbed his wallet and followed his friend out the door.
Vince used his phone to order a ride, and Colby tried not to obsess about, well, about everything—seeing Vince naked and their conversation. Their lives today and waking up in bed with Vince. About brewing beer with him and the mugs Vince had gotten for him. The laughs they always shared, and what it was like working with Vince, and just how good he made him feel. How normal. Vince didn’t think there was anything wrong with living the simple life Colby did. He didn’t wonder why he didn’t want to get married and have kids. They were the same in that. Of course, Vince didn’t know Colby’s biggest secret, but even though Colby wasn’t ready to share it, deep down he knew it would be okay with Vince. That he wouldn’t look at Colby any differently.
Vince didn’t think there was something wrong with Colby for being forty years old and unsure what he wanted in his life. Hell, he had taken it on himself to help Colby figure out what that was.
Those thoughts teased his brain the whole ride to the bar and as they went inside.
It was bigger than the gay bar in Chelsea and even more packed. As they worked their way through the crowd of mostly men, Colby took Vince’s hand so they didn’t get separated.
There were raised podiums with dancing men wearing Speedos, and one guy even had a jock on, his ass hanging out. People stuffed money into their clothes, men kissing and rubbing against each other as they danced to the music.
The slideshow in his head changed, this time to the night they’d gone to the bar with August and Clint, about dancing with Vince, the other man’s hands on him and the two of them close. Another dose of heat shot through his body.
“You want a whiskey, right?” Vince asked close to his ear. If Colby was drinking alcohol and it wasn’t beer, he usually got whiskey, something Vince clearly remembered. As strange as it sounded, little things like that made Colby feel important.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I’ll get the next round.”