“You mean the chick with her tits and ass hanging out in this weather?”
His grin widens and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
“I saw her.” I shrug, and he sighs dramatically.
“Fuck you for being so gay that you cannot appreciate a fucking hot chick when you see one,” he jokes.
“I may be gay, brother, but I know a hot chick when I see one. I also know desperate when I see it.”
He chuckles, shaking his head before taking a drink from his pint.
“I need to get laid; these long shifts are killing my hook-up time,” Cormac whines.
He is thirty, but he is as horny as a teenage boy with how many women he fucks in a week. His baby face gets him all the fucking women; he only has to smirk and they drop to their knees for him.
“Man, I am surprised that your dick has not rotted off yet,” I throw at him, making him laugh.
He winks. “I wrap up my cock, brother. No chick is trapping me with kids or passing on whatever STD they might have.”
“And the women of the world thank you,” I retort, making him laugh harder.
“What about you, Riv? Any new potentials lately, or are you still hung up on a man you refuse to touch?” I see the challenge in his eyes, and I flip him off.
“Fuck off, Cor.” I chuckle.
They may rib me, but I know it is all good-natured fun. They want what is best for me and seem to think that River could be that person.
For years since he arrived in our town, I have watched him, flirted with him, and he’s returned each and every flirtatious comment, but I’ve fought the urge to touch him.
There’s something about the way River moves that calls to me. Always with a teasing smile that seems to linger in the airlong after he walks away. Every exchange between us is charged, electric, leaving me itching to touch him more, to bury my cock so deep in his ass that he feels me for days.
Sometimes I wonder if he feels it too—the pull, the temptation. Would he want to be involved with someone like me, someone who wants to take care of all of his pleasure? To make sure that he is safe, cared for and loved, but also left sated after sex.
It pleases me, seeing my partner satisfied; it turns me on knowing that I am the one bringing them to climax.
“Have you seen the new guy we have working here?” Tatum asks me.
Shaking my head, I look at him.
He nods over to where there is a guy carrying a tray of drinks, smiling shyly at people who talk to him.
“He is Patty’s grandson; he moved here to help her out during the holidays. She said that he needs to work to develop more social skills, because his other job keeps him locked in an office,” he explains.
“He is shy as fuck but polite and knows how to work a bar. Seems nice enough.” My brother adds.
Watching the man walk around the room, my body reacts to his smile, the way his body moves, and even though he is not trying to be sexy, he is to me. Damn. Dressed in jeans, and a black button down shirt, he looks good. His hair is dark, with a curl to it, and my fingers itch to run through the thick strands.
Why is my body reacting like this to a man I have not even met? He must sense me watching him because he looks up, and our eyes meet for a split second before he looks away, making me smirk.
“His name is Theo, and he is gay. Miss Patty has been telling anyone who will listen.”
I cough, dislodging the need in my throat as I watch Theo scurry away behind the bar.
“He is cute, no? Maybe take him for a test drive,” Cormac teases.
Fuck.
Changing the subject, I look to the twins. “How has the bar been doing? The Christmas crowd filling the registers?”
