Ernesto rolled his eyes a bit. “It’s just a fancy term, meaning I work in HR, but manage the company’s integrated approach.” He smiled and mimicked my lean. “What do you sell? No, wait, let me guess…” He scanned me like I had to him. “Firefighter equipment? No! Hockey pads and jock straps? Or something else manly like that?”
I laughed hard. I wished women would be that direct when they wanted to fuck. Which was a shame for Ernesto. Because no matter what, we’d never.
“Nope. Financial software. So sexy.”
He held my gaze. “Yeah. Very sexy.”
The way he was throwing himself at me, I could’ve taken him out back and fucked his brains out right then. If I were a better person, I’d walk away with a “Later man” or drop my fictitious girlfriend’s name. But I wanted to keep talking to him. He was very attractive, and getting my ego stroked so blatantly was more intoxicating than the whiskey.
I would never go home with a guy. I wouldn’t do anything physical with another man, period. Not when there were horny women around. But after how horny Alec got me the night before, I had dudes on the mind. I walked a fine line between flirting and not leading him on. I’m not a dick, and didn’t want him to think he had a chance, just that I thought he was hot.
Ernesto was great. Witty and funny, he had me laughing from my stomach several times. And how he looked at me was exactly what I was talking about. But his broad chest, the thick black hair poking out of his collar, his impressive biceps, and the deep timber of his voice were all no-goes.
I talked to him for so long that I had to order another drink, and asked if he’d like one too. “Not that you need any more hair on your chest, but as a connoisseur, I recommend it,” I said with a slutty smirk. Each went down too fast for a work event.
The longer we flirted, the more my cock got involved. I started picturing what it would be like to dig my fingers deep enough into his fat ass there’d be marks—then fuck him so hard he’d leave my place bow legged. And, of course, the more I thought about it, the more my dick wanted him to know.
He was in the middle of telling a story I wasn’t paying attention to. I leaned in and whispered, “If I wasn’t here with my coworkers, I’d have you on your knees out back, choking on my fat cock. And once you got it good and wet, I’d fuck you so hard you’d think of me every time you sat down for a week.”
I pulled back with a long smirk and hooded eyes. Ernesto’s face was red, and his eyes were wild. It was the exact look that made my dick leak. Total abandon and deep cock lust just for me. I loved it. If I hooked up with guys, I was sure I could turn them into putty whenever I wanted.
That’s who I was. I didn’t need to brag about being the big swinging dick. It spoke for itself. I didn’t need to claim my dominance. It was already mine.
It took him a beat and a half to regain his composure. “We can, uh… we can head back to my place? I live alone, and not far.”
His pulse was so high it vibrated his temples and shook his voice. If I grabbed his crotch at that moment, he’d nut his pants right there at the bar.
“Nah, I’m my boss’s DD. But,” I laid my phone on the bar displaying my Flare profile page. “Hit me up, man. I’d love to see what you look like when you’re alone in bed later.”
I lied. If anything, Alec would drive me home. But I was tipsy, and I wouldn’t mind getting a video of him jacking himself off while moaning my name. I turned to the bar to finish my drink as he looked for me on the app.
“The fuck you been, Blackwood?” Alec said, slamming his hand on my shoulder so hard I almost stumbled. He and Luke approached from behind without me noticing.
I freaked out. A lesser man would’ve frozen up, but I was trained to think on my toes. “Got a drink and got caught up,” I said, snatching my phone off the bar and stowing it.
I flashed Ernesto a look, which I hoped he understood. His eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch, and he gave Alec and Luke a nondescript nod.
I said, “Later, man,” and followed my boss back to the booth.
Neither asked me who he was, or what we were talking about. I had prepared a story to tell on the walk over, but they were chattering on about something else. Which was worse than asking. Alec’s not a stupid guy. He can read people and situations accurately and immediately. Yet he said nothing. Not when we rejoined our group, or when we were left alone in the booth.
“Never seen you this drunk before,” he said.
That’s never something you want to hear your boss say. I didn’t feel all that drunk, but every drunk person ever has said that.
I sat up straight and said, “Yeah? I feel okay. Not gonna drive anywhere, but I think I’m under control.”
Alec laughed. “Not what I’m saying, bro. You’re not shitfaced. You’re just…”—he searched my face—“loose.”
“What do you mean,loose?”
“You’re just loose. Nothing else to say about it.”
“Am I a hardass otherwise?”
He laughed again. “No, Mason. Just forget it.”
“I feel like I’m usually the life of the party.” I laughed, hiding my bruised ego. I had no idea what Alec meant.
