“Yes! Want to see all the hype about your piercings. Oh fuck, will you let me actually touch them this time? Please, John,” Chad begs right here on the street, and my dick is half hard already.
Yes, please. Why did I stop him earlier?
Thank fuck, our car pulls up and we slide in. I lean in to whisper in his ear, “If you’re quiet, I’ll let you do anything you want withit.”
He turns to face me, smiling like a maniac. But it works. We’re both quiet as I finally allow myself to think about all the things I want to do to Chad.
I avoid looking at him because if I do, I might try to start right here in the back of this Uber, and I assume he’s doing the same, but when we pull up to our hotel only acouple of minutes later, I realize Chad didn’t actually suddenly learn how to be silent. He’s asleep.
So much for consummating our marriage.
I sigh, but it’s probably for the best. Without him begging me, I can think a little more clearly, and I don’t think he’s truly ready for us to hook up anyway.
Besides, hooking up drunk is a stupid idea. Especially since I’m already worried about him regretting tonight. Even though he claimed he was ready, and he proved last night how much he can hold his liquor, he’s still had way too much to drink to give consent.
“Come on, Princess, let’s get you to bed,” I say, shaking his shoulder lightly.
He wakes up enough to get out of the car, immediately clinging to my side, fingers laced with mine. We make it back up to our suite, but I don’t think he fully opens his eyes the whole way up. I guide him into our room and help him out of his shirt and pants.
“Issit sex time?” he slurs.
“Nope, time to sleep.”
“Daaamn it,” he says around a yawn.
I can’t help but chuckle at how cute he is. And it isn’t until I’m pulling him closer to me, also only in my underwear, that I realize I didn’t even hesitate to climb into bed with him even though I knew we wouldn’t be doing anything more.
What a weird fucking night.
15
ASH
Well, this is definitely a step toward embracing my attraction to men.
There are scantily dressed guys everywhere. Some of them obviously work here, waiters only in booty shorts and bowties, bartenders with open vests, and the DJ off to the side of the stage doesn’t even have a shirt on.
And then there’s the audience. So many men are wearing very see-through shirts like the ones Kieran has been wearing, even more have dress shirts unbuttoned, or are in tank tops I think might have started as undershirts.
Mixed in with the crowd are a few women, mostly small groups dressed up to go out, and one party are all wearing matching sashes that say they’re “with the bride,” with one sparkly girl in white who has one labeling her as the bride in case it wasn’t clear enough.
I manage to find a seat at one of the last empty tablestoward the back of the club. Chaps is obviously a very popular option tonight.
“Can I get you anything?” one of the bowtie-wearing waiters asks me suggestively.
I’ve had a few drinks tonight, but I don’t feel like I’m about to fall over or anything, and I think one more would probably help me to ignore how fucking nervous I am right now even being here.
“Whiskey sour, thanks.”
“My pleasure,” he says with a wink before walking away toward the bar.
Hopefully the dim lighting is enough to hide how bright red I’m sure my cheeks are. Men openly flirting with me is not something I’m used to, and even though I’m sure that guy and the one who invited me here are only doing it as part of their job, it’s still exciting. And kind of terrifying.
There’s no reason for me to be so anxious right now, I try to remind myself while taking slow, steady breaths. This isn’t illegal. I don’t know anyone here. There’s nothing wrong with being attracted to other men. I loved being with that guy in Seattle. Maybe this will help me be more comfortable with the idea of being around other mostly naked men. Maybe I can even flirt with some too.
This will be great.
Despite all my perfectly logical self-encouragement, the giant knot in my stomach hasn’t dissipated in the slightest.
