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She rolls her eyes and hands me a tissue. “Clean that up before you leave. God, Jude. I swear. People are going to think you’re a drag queen or something.”
I take the tissue and shove it into my pocket. Julia and Jordan are watching me with blinking eyes, and I force a smile on my face for them.
“Thanks, but I think I look awesome. They did a good job, and more importantly, they had fun. I’m gonna go.” I lean down and press kisses to their heads and squeeze them beforegrabbing the coffee cake and heading outside. I know I look ridiculous with my painted face, but I wasn’t about to wipe it off in front of them.
Hell no. No way on Earth would I crush their spirits like that. This is an indication of how much fun we had. I’ll just wash it off when I get home—as soon as I step foot in the house…you know, before Ollie sees me and gets any ideas in his head.
Like possibly dressing up in makeup for our outing tonight.
I draw the line there. As much as I think drag queens are peak entertainers, I don’t wanna dress up like one. I might let my niece and nephew paint me like a doll, but I don’t want people thinking I’m gay.
I’m not. Not at all.
As soon as I walk up the steps to the house, I see the landlord, Alec, just getting into his truck. My footsteps falter as I stare at him, forcing my gaze to stay on his face and not on his crotch.
His eyes track across my face, and I wave at it, feeling my skin heat at his assessment. Fuck, why didn’t I hide my face until I got inside?
“My niece and nephew are responsible,” I explain, and he nods.
“Looks good on you.”
I feel my cheeks flushing even more, my skin almost molten. It must show through the appalling pink blush.
He tilts his chin slightly, his lips twitching, and I feel my heart race from just being near him. Then he disappears into his truck, and I sigh in relief. It’s such a fucking comedown once he’s gone. Like I just stepped off a fucking roller coaster.
I hate those, too. I fucking hate them.
Right. Enough about sexy dick landlord. I need to get ready for the bar. I need to find a big cock, one that I can really lose myself in. Then and only then will I find my inner Zen. My chiwill be restored. My hobby of sucking dicks has been neglected for far too long. I can’t go two weeks without it.
My hobby is becoming a bit of a need.
Does this make me an addict?
Probably not. I can’t help that I have a very addicting hobby.
And I do love it. That’s all it is. A nice dick-sucking pastime. Nothing more, nothing less.
When I make it to the bar later that night, freshly showered and with Ollie in tow, I find myself relaxed for the first time in ages. I know soon, very fucking soon, everything will align for me once more, and I’ll be back to my normal self.
“Ooh. Look at the new menu. Oh, they have lavender vodka! I’m gonna go get a drink!” Ollie says and bounces away into the crowd.
As soon as he disappears, I close my eyes and inhale.
Fuck. Yes. I’m gonna get what I need, and soon.
My eyes open, and I start my perusal. Now listen, I have standards. I’m not someone who will just suck any dick. It has to be one that’s hand-selected, one that I mull over for a bit. I’m not a whore.
But after an hour of hunting, no one looks good enough. No one is doing it for me.
Which is why when I see Alec walk in, I stare at him for a long-drawn-out moment. He’s wearing tight jeans that show off his dick and a tight black shirt. I absolutely should not suck my new landlord’s dick. That would just make things so fucking awkward.
But I mean, he’s here at this gay bar. If he didn’t want a nice dick-sucking, why would he be here? To chat? To make friends?
Probably not. No one is here to chat.
I stroll up to him, bobbing my head in time with the music.
“Hello, landlord,” I say, and his beer bottle slips from his lips.
