“We all are.” I sigh.
“We’re a bunch of sad sacks, aren’t we?” Camryn chuckles.
“We’re not the problem, it’s men,” Isla adds.
I know Finn hasn’t told her about his little secret because I know she would have said something, or at least, I would think. She confessed to me that she hooked up with him again in Vegas when I asked, and things have continued since coming back. I tried to ask gently but she didn’t mention it. I did, however, run into Finn at The Paradise Club the other night, and asked him if he had told her yet. I know he’s sleeping with her again, even though he is at the club hooking up with other people. Which I will never understand when he has someone as gorgeous as Isla lusting after him. I tend to agree with her statement that men just suck. Finn told me that he couldn’t find the right time to tell her, and he didn’t want to ruin what has been happening between them. He did tell her he’s still going to the club when he’s not with her. Guess, on a technicality, he hasn’t lied to her,but still, I don’t like holding this secret from her, she needs to know.
Sons of Brooklyn played, and of course, Chance looked so hot up on stage. I supported him as a fan, not his lover, which sucked, but I wasn’t going to let that dampen my night, even if I’ve spotted him flirting with the girls from The Gypsy Sisters, who they know from Sienna’s wedding and are signed to the same label. Pushing aside my feelings regarding Chance, I need to concentrate on my own future, which is looking brighter after tonight. The menswear was a roaring success, and I’ve had a couple of actors come up to me and ask if they could arrange a time to talk about styling them for some events. Hell yes! So, things are looking up for me, and that was the point of tonight, to showcase what Wyld Jones is about and what Derrick Jones, the stylist, is about to an elite clientele.
“Hey.” I feel a tug on my arm, and next thing I know, I’m pulled into the darkness. A sweaty body is pushed against me as soft lips capture mine as Chance kisses me. “Saw you dancing and singing to my songs.” He smirks cockily.
“I mean, it was a concert, that’s what you’re supposed to do.”
Chance grabs my dick and squeezes it, making it hard. “Don’t lie to me, I know you were screaming for me just like you will be when I get you home tonight,” he growls, biting my bottom lip. What’s gotten into him? He’s never this forward in public.
“Promises, promises,” I tease him.
“I’ve missed you, D. I haven’t seen you for weeks.” He pouts.
“Tonight, didn’t plan itself,” I remind him.
“And you did so fucking well. I’m proud of you. Does that mean you’re going to be my new stylist?”
“Can you afford me?”
“I can pay you in BJs,” he says, squeezing my cock.
“I do like a BJ.”
“Apparently, I’ve been told I suck like a Hoover,” he states, licking up my neck, sending goosebumps over my body.
“Really? I don’t believe it,” I tease.
“Want me to show you?” Chance grins as he starts lowering himself.
“Chance, we’re in public,” I say, stopping him. But those green eyes look up at me, and I see nothing but mischief dancing behind them.
“No one can see us, we are in a little cocoon here. Let me. I want to show you how proud I am of you.” He drops to his knees, unzips me, and shows me just how much of a Hoover he is.
Fuck. I’m gone for.
“Oh shit. No. No. No,” Chance says as panic rises in his voice.
“What is it?” I sit up in my bed.
“I have to go,” he yells at me.
“Chance? What’s happened?”
“They know. The world knows. Fuck,” he says, raking his fingers through his hair.
“Calm down, who knows what secret?” I try to work out what’s got him so riled up.
“This, Derrick, this fucking article outing me,” he says, thrusting the phone in my face.
Does Chance from Sons of Brooklyn have a boyfriend?
And it’s a photo of Chance and me leaving the shadows after he gave me the best blowjob of my life. You can see it on our faces, it doesn’t look innocent as we smile at each other, but we aren’t holding hands, we aren’t even touching, but smiling because in that moment, I was at my happiest. It felt like we were taking a turn in the right direction last night, but judging by the way he is reacting, that was wishful thinking.
