Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 132962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Just as I thought. It fits you.” It was a blush. Damn. That was seriously hot, and his cock jerked in approval.
“Huh?”
“How old are you?” Mitch asked, running his eyes up and down Mr. Ball Cap’s big frame. He had thick muscular thighs that made the jeans he wore pull tight in just the right places, showing off a very nice package.
“Can I have my hat back, please?” the guy asked, but didn’t move out from under the hold Mitch had on his chin. Manners and good looks…he wanted this guy, bad.
“Maybe, if you answer the question,” Mitch teased, giving him a smile and a wink for encouragement. The guy swallowed, and his eyes moved to Mitch’s lips. Good sign.
“I’m twenty-six,” he answered. Mitch nodded and tucked the bill of blondie’s hat in the back of his waistband, before lifting a couple of fingers toward the bartender. Mitch wasn’t ready to give up the ball cap just yet. He figured he’d hold on to it for a while longer, insurance that the guy wouldn’t take off.
Mitch watched as the bartender worked and handed his waiting shot to the hot, young country boy. How had this gorgeous guy flown under the radar? And a better question, why wasn’t he out on the dance floor?
“Drink this,” Mitch said, shoving the shot in the guy’s hand. The bartender placed two more shots in front of him. He absently dug another twenty out of his pocket, not even paying attention to the change being offered back.
“What is it?” the guy asked.
“Does it matter?” Mitch challenged. “Drink it. And this one too.”
Mitch downed his in one swallow. The guy followed suit and then drank the other one, before slamming the glass down on the polished wood. It was liquid courage. Mitch tossed the beer chaser, encouraging the kid to drink his, and he did. Mitch placed both empty bottles back on the bar before he grabbed the guy’s hand and pulled him up.
“We’re dancing,” Mitch informed Mr. Ball Cap, ignoring the list of objections and excuses he spewed. It was a forced deal since the guy fought him every step he made, but Mitch wasn’t taking no for an answer. It took a minute to make it to the edge of the dance floor. He wasn’t a big drinker, so the shot had already begun to work.
When the guy finally broke free of his hold, he flipped around. He was taller than Mitch realized, maybe taller than his own six-four frame. Mitch couldn’t let him get away, that just wasn’t in his plan. He reached out, hooking an arm around the guy’s waist before he could bolt too far off.
The move caught Ball Cap off guard with the hold turning into a full body deal as Mitch nudged him with the weight of his body out into the middle of the dance floor.
“It’s easier when you just take the plunge. You know, like a Band-Aid. Always best if you just rip it free. You’re here for a reason. Be okay with it.” Those words weren’t whispered. The music made it impossible to not yell them from behind, but it stopped the guy’s struggles. Mitch didn’t let him go. Instead, he turned him around so they were face-to-face on the dance floor.
Mitch kept him close, pressing the front of his body against the guy’s chest. His arms held Ball Cap caged in, and damn was he hot, far more gorgeous than Mitch had first realized. He smelled fresh, clean, like the calming light rain that falls after a summer thunderstorm, mixed with a hint of fresh cut evergreens. He leaned in and inhaled. Damn, Mitch loved the smell of rain.
“You’re fucking hot,” Mitch yelled, and he could feel the young guy sported a pretty impressive bulge in his jeans. So did Mitch.
“Now move. We have a little ways to go before I relieve what’s going on in those Levi’s.” Mitch grinned as he watched deep blue eyes widen at that statement. He moved his hips rubbing his erection back and forth across the younger man’s. His smile grew wider, among other things.
“They’re Wranglers, and I like your dimples. I haven’t been dancing in a long time, thanks for not taking no for an answer.” The guy still hadn’t moved, but he hadn’t left either.
“Good, I like for hot twenty-six-year-olds to dance with me, and just so you know, I’m used to getting what I want,” Mitch purred and ran his hand down the guy’s chest to the side of his hips, urging him to move. Mitch saw the moment Mr. Ball Cap gave in and laughed. Probably the alcohol had helped him too. The guy took over the movement for himself.
He had a beautiful smile and seemed to relax into the sway.
Relieved Blue Eyes wasn’t going to leave, Mitch moved both hands forward, sliding his hands under the guy’s shirt and lifted the T-shirt up and over his head. He wasn’t disappointed. The guy was a little fairer than Mitch, but built precisely like he had imagined. Wide chest, thick well-defined pecs dusted with light blond hair, perfectly ripped abs, and a tempting blond treasure trail disappearing into tight well-worn jeans. He smiled at the impressive art work decorating the guy’s hard body. He’d always been into tattoos, but the tattoos were just icing on an already enticing piece of cake. He would enjoy exploring each and every inked line with his tongue. Yeah, Mr. Ball Cap would do just fine.
~~~
What was he thinking? From the moment Cody walked into this club, he understood the magic of the place, experienced with awe the energy that drew the massive crowds and felt better for having been there. But the longer he stayed, the more he felt a little in over his head. He was just a country bumpkin’ compared to these sophisticated patrons. His own insecurities had him stuck to the far reaches of the club on purpose. Guys like him weren’t seen in places like these, but damn, had he wanted to have a good time tonight. And this club’s legacy should have been the place to make that happen.