Guys on Top (5 page)

Oh, my. 

Doug held his gaze almost involuntarily, shocked to find the man looking at him so openly. The guy seemed to startle as their eyes met. He smiled slightly, then turned his attention back to the band, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Well, okay, then. So much for that
.

Doug went back to his phone, pretending to be interested in the display, when someone grabbed his arm. He looked up to see Jairo, his smile eight feet wide. “Hey,” he said. “Corey asked me to go home with him. Are you cool with me bailing?”

“Oh...um...” Doug caught sight of the blond, now standing by the beam with Celtics tee shirt guy, a brown jacket slung stylishly over one shoulder. He was taller than he’d appeared while seated, and Doug grudgingly admitted to himself that the guy...
Corey
, was pretty damn hot. Though he still preferred the other one, who was nodding in acknowledgement as Corey spoke into his ear. Corey was most likely giving the same information to
his
friend—that he was bailing to get laid.

“Well, shit, that was fast,” Doug said, turning his attention back to Jairo. “No, I mean that’s fine. Go. Have fun.”

“You sure?” Jairo asked, but he was already stepping away from the table.

“Go,” Doug said with a wave.

“Okay, I’ll call you. We’ll do lunch or something.”

Jairo made a beeline back to Corey, exchanging a few words with him and the other guy. After a minute, Doug watched Jairo weaving through the crowd toward the door with his blond prize. Doug was a bit blindsided. They’d only just arrived, and while Jairo had suggested they might meet men at the bar, he’d expected they’d spend some time hanging out together first. He considered leaving then, but he still had half a beer, and despite getting dumped by his companion, he was enjoying the lively atmosphere.

So he remained, taking casual sips of his beer, dividing his attention between the band and the crowd, periodically checking his phone so he’d have something to do with his hands. He searched for tee shirt guy, and found him nestled back with the group by the dartboard, speaking with a chubby redheaded man.

Without warning, the handsome brunette looked back at Doug and their eyes locked again. But again, he quickly broke eye contact, turning his attention back to his friend.

Maybe he’s shy
, Doug thought. Though he certainly didn’t appear the bashful type while among his cronies.

He thought of Jairo, the way he’d just strolled over and approached Corey. He wished he could summon the courage to do the same, just get up and go talk to this guy. But he was out of practice, and that had never really been his style.
And you’re a chicken shit
.

But if he wanted to get laid at some point, he supposed he’d need to grow some balls. He wasn’t a kid anymore, and while he knew he wasn’t bad looking, he didn’t garner the attention he once had. It used to be he could just sit alone in a bar and be instantly approached by suitors. But that was then, and though he was clearly alone tonight, no one was beating a path to his table. Still, the thought of just walking over there to talk to the guy made his gut clench with anxiety.

Well, another night then
, he thought, draining his beer. He decided he would consider tonight practice, not a total loss. At least he’d gotten out of the house with someone who wasn’t his immediate family. And while he might win the loser-of-the-week award for getting dumped by a blind date he didn’t even want, it was a start.

“You need another beer?”

Doug’s head jerked up, and he saw Celtics tee shirt guy looking down at him. Glancing down at his empty glass, he tried to find his voice. “Uh, yeah. I—”

“I’ll get it.” The man turned and moved up to the bar, leaving Doug to stare after him.

Doug swallowed hard, then shifted in his seat, trying to find his most relaxed pose. While the guy spoke to the bartender, Doug’s eyes drifted over his husky body, from his shoulders down to his work boots. He seemed bigger up close, not overweight but
solid
. 

He returned to the table and set a draft in front of Doug. He held another in his hand. “You mind?” he asked, pointing to the empty chair.

“No, sit. Please.” Doug removed his foot from the chair and the other man dragged it toward himself and sat, setting his beer on the table.

“I’m Doug,” he said, figuring if this guy had the balls to come over, he could at least man-up and start the conversation.

“Stewart.” He reached across the table and gave Doug’s hand a quick pump, then picked up his beer and took a long sip. His blue eyes darted around the bar, and Doug grew awkward, wondering if he was going to say anything further, or just sit there.

Then he grinned at Doug, his smile even more pleasing at point blank range. The dimples almost gave him a baby face, but a full jawline and that crooked tooth lent it a masculine edge. “So,” Stewart said, his tone deep but whimsical. “Corey poached your friend, huh?”

Doug laughed, a bit of tension leaking out of him. “Yeah, he did. In record time.”

Stewart laughed hard, shoulders shaking. “Yeah, Corey has that effect on people.” He turned in his seat, eyes back on the band. Doug liked his voice, a bit gravelly but open and friendly. Something in the way he said the word
effect
hinted at an accent that Doug couldn’t quite place.

“Where are you from?” Doug asked, his voice getting lost in the bar noise.

Stewart looked back at him. “What?”

He leaned forward, noting the color of Stewart’s eyes, a deep, midnight-blue. “Where are you from?” he asked a little louder this time. 

To his pleasure, Stewart leaned forward as well, placing his forearms on the table. “Oh, lots of places. Live in Boston now, not far from here.”

“Is that an accent I hear?”

“Ah.” He nodded. “I come from northern England, but haven’t been back there since I was fifteen. Accent’s been watered down from living in Nebraska, then here. I’m surprised you picked up on it.”

“It’s nice,” Doug said. “I like it.”

Nice? Doug, get a grip, you’re talking like a girl.

But Stewart’s dimpled grin returned and he held Doug’s eyes, making his jeans feel a bit tighter suddenly. 

“Thanks,” Stewart said. “I like your face.”

Doug was taken aback.
Well, that answers that. Definitely
not
straight
.

Doug grinned, not sure how to respond. “You do?”

“Yeah,” he said, taking another sip of beer. He set the glass down and smiled. “I pointed you out to Corey before he left with your friend.”

“Did you?” The stirring in Doug’s pants was becoming uncomfortable, and he shifted slightly in the chair.

Stewart let out a quick laugh, his head falling forward. He looked up again, grinning at Doug. “Corey said you had serial killer eyes.”

Doug’s jaw dropped, then he laughed, nodding. “I see. Well, that’s...I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Then the guy he was leaving with, your friend, what’s his name?”

“Jairo.”

“Right, so Jairo says to Corey, no, Doug has beautiful eyes. He’s just a little cranky.”

Stewart’s deep infectious laugh came again, and Doug felt himself being drawn in like a magnet. His eyes sparkled when he smiled. And Jairo was wrong—Stewart didn’t need a shower. His hair was clean and smooth, and he smelled of soap and aftershave. Doug found himself wanting to reach out and touch those dark, silken waves, run his fingers through them.

“I can be a little cranky,” Doug said. “But I’ve never been told I have serial killer eyes.”

“You don’t,” Stewart said. Then he shrugged, tilting his head as he examined Doug. “Well, maybe a really sexy serial killer. With a good haircut. But then serial killers aren’t always what you expect, are they? You get those clean cut types, right? ‘Oh, he was such a nice, quiet man’, the neighbors say. Then you find out he’s got a freezer full of heads and asses.”

Doug smiled at him, but his brow lowered in a frown. This was certainly not a pick-up style he’d ever encountered before. But Stewart
was
coming on to him, wasn’t he? He’d slipped in the comment about being sexy, but did it with humor, in a way that was bold but not overbearing.

“Yeah,” Doug said. “They do tend to be clean cut. The boy next door serial killer variety.”

“And they always live alone,” Stewart said. “Do you live alone?” He held Doug’s eyes.

Doug pondered the question behind the question. “I do live alone,” he said softly.

“Ooh, you’ve got all the warning signs,” Stewart said. “The eyes. Good haircut. Lives alone.”

“I promise,” Doug said. “I don’t have heads and asses in my freezer.”

Stewart rubbed his chin. “Well, I don’t know if I believe you. I might have to check for myself.”

Doug’s heart thudded in his chest. “Really.”

“Really. Unless you don’t want to show it to me. I’ll understand, of course.”

Doug held his gaze. “We’re not talking about my freezer anymore, are we?”

Stewart grinned at him. Despite his apparent boldness, a blush climbed up his fair cheeks. “Would you like me to be more direct?”

“If you don’t mind.”

Stewart leaned back in his chair, looking over his shoulder. He turned back to Doug. “You see that chunky ginger bastard back there?”

Doug glanced over by the dartboard and spotted the redhead he’d seen Stewart talking to before. He was engaged in a rowdy conversation with two other men. “Yeah, I see him.”

“Well.” Stewart leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him on the table. “He’s called Dewey. Great guy, but he’s a fucking slob. Lives with four cats, there’s shit all over the place, and he stinks.”

Doug frowned, not sure where this was going. “Okay.”

“You saw Corey, who left with your friend?”

“Yeah, I saw Corey.”

Stewart nodded. “I live with Corey. Except he asked me to make myself scarce tonight, so he can take your friend Jairo for a walk on the wild side. So
I’ve
got to spend the night on stinky Dewey’s couch.” He paused. “Unless I get a better offer.”

“I see,” Doug said. He leaned forward a bit, his own hands nearly touching Stewart’s. “So. Is stinky Dewey the only reason you want to come back to my place tonight?”

“A fair question,” Stewart said. “No. I was trying to get up the nerve to talk to you before Corey asked me to stay out of the way tonight. But I needed another beer, and the threat of sleeping on a sofa that smells like cat piss to give me the proper motivation.”

Doug smiled. He was completely charmed by this man, and it had been a
long
time. “We can’t have you sleeping on cat piss,” he said. “You want to get out of here?”

Stewart gave Doug’s hand a quick squeeze, the brief physical contact making his heart gallop. “I hope you have a car,” he said. “I rode here with Corey.”

Doug stood. “I have a car. Let’s go.”

Stewart stood and took a last, long sip of beer. He set the glass down and grinned at Doug. “Lead the way.”

Chapter Four

As soon as they got in the car, Doug felt Stewart’s warm fingers on the back of his neck. He turned to face him. The dimpled grin was gone, replaced by the more serious, almost shy expression he’d worn while he was sneaking peeks at Doug in the bar. “I was thinking,” Stewart said, “if I kiss you now, it will be less weird when we get back to your place.”

Doug leaned in. “No weirdness.”

Stewart met him in the middle and touched his cheek as his lips pressed against Doug’s. The kiss was soft and chaste, Stewart’s lips parting just an inch. Doug was overwhelmed with the scent of him, clean and masculine. A scrape of beard stubble grazed his chin as Stewart’s lips pressed harder, and Doug responded, pulling him in and slipping his tongue into his mouth.

A simultaneous breath left them, and the barrier broke, this kiss turning into something hotter, and soon they were locked together, mouths open, tongues mingling as they ate at each other. Arousal shot through Doug’s body, quivering his gut and swelling his cock.

Stewart’s arm locked tighter around Doug’s neck and he made the kiss deeper. The taste of Stewart’s wet mouth was enough to make Doug forget they were still sitting in his car outside the bar. It had been so long since he’d been kissed like this, he felt it in every part of his body, a current blasting through his limbs, his stomach, all culminating to a burning throb in his groin.

Slowly, Stewart loosened his grip on Doug’s neck and eased back. Doug tried to control his breathing, but Stewart had left him panting like a teenager. He felt a bit less abashed when he saw the deep flush staining Stewarts fair skin. “I’d say that’s good,” Stewart said with a heavy breath.

“Yeah, that about did it,” Doug agreed.

Stewart fell back into the passenger seat. He turned and grinned at Doug. “Drive.”

Doug chuckled and started the car. “I’ll try.” His cock felt hard enough to burst his zipper, but he managed to get the car on the road.

Stewart’s dizzying scent was making him light headed, but he managed to calm his body and steer the car toward home. Lights twinkled down on the darkened pond as they passed by, and Doug gave a fleeting thought to how he would feel tomorrow on his morning jog, having spent the night with a man for a change rather than alone in his bed, grinding his teeth at the noise from upstairs. Tomorrow was Saturday, and he would return to work on Monday. This was a perfect way to end his week off, something positive to wash away the stress of moving.

He’d turned into his driveway and was halfway up it when Stewart grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”

Doug hit the brake and turned to Stewart, frowning. “Um...” He shook his head. “I thought I was taking you back to my place. Did I...misread something?”

Stewart looked up at the house, then back at Doug. “Is this one of Corey’s games?” he asked, suspicion in his tone.

Doug stared back at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Why are we here?”

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

Again Stewart glanced up at the house.