When this kid had seen me without my mask on, the way he’d looked at me, I’d assumed he’d fucking known who I was.
But had I been that wrong?
“Wait, why were you looking at me back there?” I asked, rethinking all our exchanges.
“’Cause I thought you were…hot,” he replied, as though I’d asked a trick question.
His accent should have made me realize my mistake sooner. Or perhaps his confusion when I’d accosted him.
“Oh my God. You’re a gay American tourist. And I’m an asshole.”
He glanced around the bathroom before looking at me again, his eyes still wide, his mouth agape, his sexy lips looking like they would have felt so good around my shaft.
I could only imagine what he thought I’d been talking about. I was just glad I hadn’t come out and said anything about being the Prince of Parlaisa.
But now I had to find a way out of this…
“I’m sorry. I mistook you for someone else,” I explained, feeling bad for the way I’d cornered him in the bathroom. This poor fucking kid who just thought he was dancing and flirting with me.
He flinched, looking totally shocked by my reaction.
He licked his lips, and they were so wet, glistening in the light.
God, I could fucking kiss those hot lips.What the hell? Where did that thought come from?
I figured it was the relief of knowing he hadn’t discovered my identity, but it didn’t hurt that he was hot.
Or that I was a little drunk.
I shook off the impulse.
“Sorry about this,” I said.
“It’s…cool…” It was clear he had no idea what to make of everything that had transpired, and rightly so.
I needed to go.
So I did just that, slipping out of the restroom, leaving Hot Lips to sort through everything that had happened.
I headed back down the hall, so many conflicting emotions raging within me.
I was pissed at myself for jumping to conclusions, and for being such a fucking asshole to someone I now realized was little more than a friendly tourist.
Although, something about his look, despite his innocence, made me think that he could be a real animal between the sheets.
What the fuck? I don’t mess around with guys.
Felt like ever since I first laid eyes on him, he’d gotten my mind worked up—hyperalert in every possible way.
I hurried through the bar, searching for Frederick. We needed to leave. I’d made a big enough ass of myself as it was.
I found him in a corner booth with the crew Hot Lips had been with before. As I approached, I noticed a bottle spinning on the table, slowing until the bottleneck halted to face me.
The table cheered as Frederick said, “Ah. Just in time. We were about to play a fun game of spin the bottle!”
He had his arms spread out across the booth, around Sailor Moon and Sailor Pluto.
I figured he had gone over to ensure that none were the wiser about me, but then at some point had decided to use this as an opportunity to nab us an orgy.
