We get through a few more songs before I feel like I’m going to pass out, so I turn to face him again.
“You want a drink?”
“Sure!”
We move through the dancers and get to the bar, where Sid gives me a knowing smirk.
“Another for me, and whatever he’s having,” I tell him.
“Rum and Coke.”
“Shots?” I ask.
“Why not?” Greyson answers with a shrug.
I hold up two fingers. “Two kamikazes.”
“Never had it before,” Greyson says in my ear. “Is it good?”
“Are shots everactuallygood?”
He chuckles. “Fair.”
We get our drinks, cheers our shots, and shoot them back. I hiss at the burn, then pick up my drink and suck down half of it.
“So, you’re a senior, right?” he asks, leaning against the bar.
“That’s right. I’m guessing you’re a sophomore?”
“Junior.” I raise a brow. “I know, I’m taking a sophomore class. Honestly? The thought of drawing naked people scared the hell out of me.”
I laugh. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”
“How do you get the confidence to sit there naked?” he asks.
“Well, the pay is good, for one. Two, guess I just don’t care what people think.”
“If I looked like you, I’d probably feel the same way.”
“I’m sure you look just fine under these clothes.” I tug on the hem of his shirt.
His eyes blaze with heat and I take another sip of my drink, pushing thoughts of Austen from my mind. He’s probably drunk by now. Probably got some girl dancing all over him, making his dick hard. The thought pisses me off.
“So you come here often?” I ask. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”
“Have for a few months. I’ve seen you around.”
“Is that so?”
He grins in response, sipping his drink.
Should I hook up with this guy? No. It’s only going to make me feel like shit about myself tomorrow, but I’m not worrying about tomorrow. I’m worrying about tonight, about right now. About getting my mind off Austen Brewer because he can never be mine.
Greyson’s back hits the bathroom wall so hard it knocks the breath out of him. His lips find mine as I undo his belt then the button of his jeans.
“Turn around,” I say as I pull a condom from my pocket and tear it open.
He does without question, dropping his pants below his ass. It’s nice. Round and jiggly. I spit into my hand, sliding it between his crease before notching my dick there and pressing forward. His hands are flat on the wall, cheek pressed against it. As I ease my way inside him, I reach around to grab his dick and stroke. I’m not a complete asshole, I don’t leave my one-night stands hanging, especially when I don’t take the time to prep them.
