He tightens his grip. “You be whoever you are, Isaac Newport. I’m not afraid of your flames.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I slide off Trevor’s lap before the urge to come can overrule my senses. He gently guides me to his side closest to the wall, one hand at my lower back as his bulk hides me from view. I take a minute to let my cock deflate. A long,longminute.
Once I’ve regained a modicum of my decency, I utter an, “I’m sorry,” loud enough to be heard over the music.
Trevor shakes his head, tugging me back between his legs, his stool affording us a safe amount of distance. “I’m not. I learned something important about you tonight.”
“That I’m a horny little bitch when the mood strikes?”
He huffs a laugh, a smile quirking his mouth. “No. I found some boundaries I think you’re going to enjoy pushing.”
My pulse spikes, but Trevor doesn’t give me any time to worry over his words. The way he’s looking at me? Like he wouldn’t mind me pushing? Like he’d maybe even enjoy it just as much?
I’m scared to hope.
“I think you’re a very patient man,” I tell him, glancing down at the lone ice cube in the bottom of my glass.
His hum is a rumble. “And I think you have a skewed perception of your worth.”
I blow out a breath before tipping the ice cube into my mouth, needing a damn dunk underneath a cold shower. The cube will have to do.
“Grab another if you want,” Trevor says of my drink. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“No, you aren’t. Are you?”
Trevor doesn’t miss my meaning. He shoots me one of his secretive smiles, letting me go so I can return to the bar. I get a water this time and find a place out of the way to watch Trevor for a while.
It’s another ten minutes before someone approaches who must have missed me grinding on his lap earlier. I’m not the least bit surprised to see Trevor getting hit on. The man makes an impression. He’s a head taller than most people in a crowd, big even while sitting down. Add in clothes that show off the ink covering his skin, and it’s near impossible to look away.
He’s every bit a work of art. I can’t blame anyone for their interest.
The new admirer isn’t as bold as the last. But the moment she touches his arm, Trevor’s gaze finds me in the crowd, the man aware of exactly where I am. I sip my water, watching,knowing he’s capable of handling her on his own. And when he redirects his gaze her way, holding up his palms in a clearhands offgesture? I can’t help the way my blood sings in satisfaction.
Trevor spends the next hour working without my interference, checking IDs at the door and heading to the bar for a moment to switch out a keg. I never once get bored of watching him. The flex of his muscles or the way he bounces his leg gently while sitting on his stool. Once, he rolls his shoulders back in a casual stretch, and I swear I moan.
The rest of the bar becomes white noise. The music. The patrons. I barely notice any of it.
When a group of guys comes in shortly before one, I can tell Trevor’s about to gain a new groupie. The brunette heads to the bar with his friends, but I don’t miss the way his gaze keeps returning to the front door and Trevor. I give him five minutes tops.
He only waits four. The brunette breaks away from his friends when they head to one of the pool tables, the crowd starting to thin as the night wears on. I can’t tell what he’s saying to try to hook my boyfriend, but I enjoy watching him try. He doesn’t go the conventional route. No gentle arm touches or questioning smiles. He steps right into Trevor’s space, a grin on his face as he curls a finger over the hem of Trevor’s low-cut shirt.
Trevor’s eyes find mine instantly, and a thrill shoots down my spine. This time, I shrug, and Trevor holds my gaze for another long moment before nodding almost imperceptibly. He doesn’t remove the man’s hand from his chest, but neither does he express any sort of interest. He’s polite. Detached. Perfectly professional for an employee inside a bar where flirty patrons are to be expected.
And the simple fact that he understood it’s not about people touching him? That it’s about me getting a say?
It’s as exhilarating as it is terrifying.
Trevor doesn’t allow the guy to get further with his advance, much as he tries. Eventually, the brunette returns to his friends.
I can’t keep my distance then. Trevor’s eyes track me as I walk through the crowd. He welcomes me easily, his hands warm as they settle to either side of my hips. I’m grateful for the wide span of his grip helping to keep me upright.
“Did you like that?” I ask, my voice hoarse. “Having that guy fawn all over you?”
“What do you think?” Trevor rumbles.
“I think you kept looking at me instead of him.”
