Noah got out of the pool and headed back to the table where brunch was set up. He wrapped his sarong back around his hips, drank some juice, picked at a pastry, and tried to decide what to do with the rest of his day.
His options were extremely limited.
He didn’t have a phone to call anyone or mindlessly scroll through social media. He couldn’t go anywhere without his chucklehead murderous escorts, so he was stuck here at the house. He didn’t feel like drinking, he didn’t have any drugs, and he was still horny.
Time for a shower.
“Done already?” Junior asked as he came walking toward them.
“Yeah.” Noah brushed by them and headed into the house. “I wanna be alone.”
“Ah.” Junior nodded as he fell in step behind him. “Gotta go blow your meat whistle?”
“What?”
“You knows.” Junior shrugged. “Blow your meat whistle? Clear the spooge tubes?”
“You’re disgusting,” Crybaby grumbled.
“What?” Junior scoffed.
“Alistair do this shit a lot?” Noah asked before thinking better of it.
“What shit ya talkin’ ’bout now?”
“You know.” Noah’s face caught fire, and he didn’t want to say it out loud.
“Yous mean the freaky stuff?” Junior grinned.
“Yeah.” Noah walked into his bedroom, turning to glance back at Junior and Crybaby.
“Oh, fuck yeah.” Junior sneered. “He’s always doin’ freaky shit. Like all the time. Hookin’ guys’ balls up to car batteries to go light up fuckin’ Christmas trees and shit while he jacks off singin’ ’bout jinglin’ bells.”
Noah looked to Crybaby for confirmation.
“No,” she said flatly.
Junior scowled. “Oh, come on. He woulda totally believed me if ya hadn’t said anything! I coulda told him Alistair is all into that ball punchin’ stuff—”
“What is with you and balls?” Noah groaned.
“Mr. Star is a man of selective taste and unique preferences,” Crybaby said. “That’s all.”
“Selective, huh?” Noah paused. “I have no idea what you fuckin’ mean by that.”
“You’ll figure it out. Or maybe you won’t. What Mr. Star does with his boys is none of my business.”
“So, I’m not the first?”
Crybaby laughed. “No. Not by a long shot, kid.”
Noah’s curiosity dulled the urgency to head into the shower. “He’s always had that, ahem, bossy Daddy thing goin’ on?”
“You’d have to ask him.”
“Come on.” Noah flashed his most charming smile. “You seem nice and loyal. Probably worked for him a long time, huh?”
“Probably longer than you’ve been alive, kid.” Crybaby was clearly not impressed by his smile.
