Let me come and meet your friends? And then I’ll help with that hard-on I gave you.
The suggestion is impulsive, unprecedented. I don’tmeet friends. I don’t chase after men who have served their purpose. Yet here I am, waiting with uncharacteristic impatience for his response.
The three dots appear, disappear, then reappear.
Fine. We’re at Crossroads Bar. Corner of Elm and 5th.
Crossroads Bar? I frown at my screen. The name conjures images of sticky floors and watered-down drinks served in plastic cups. It’s the kind of establishment I’d never set foot in—nowhere near the caliber of venues someone of Elliot’s refined tastes should frequent.
Then again, perhaps I don’t know everything about him. The thought is oddly intriguing.
I stand abruptly, tucking myself back into my slacks.
“You’re leaving?” Theo asks between moans, still riding Victor’s cock. “This is just getting interesting.”
“Something came up,” I reply, already moving toward my bedroom to change. The Armani suit I’m wearing is hardly appropriate for a place called Crossroads.
“Someone came up, you mean,” Theo calls after me, his knowing laugh following me down the hallway.
I emerge from my bedroom dressed in dark jeans and a simple but exorbitantly expensive cashmere sweater—as close tocasualas my wardrobe permits. The scene in my living room has evolved in my brief absence: Victor now has Theo bent over the arm of the armchair, while Jenson and the twins have migrated to the plush rug in front of my fireplace.
“Going somewhere important?” Jenson asks, momentarily lifting his head from between one of the twins’ thighs.
“Just stepping out,” I reply, tucking my phone into my back pocket. I grab my keys from the crystal dish on the console table, hesitating before adding, “I trust you’ll look after the place while I’m gone.”
Theo glances over his shoulder, cheeks flushed and hair deliciously disheveled. “Don’t worry about us. We know the rules.”
I nod, oddly relieved. Despite the debauchery currently unfolding in my living room, I know these men respect boundaries. The Kylie twins might be new to my penthouse, but Theo, Victor, and Jenson have been here countless times. They know which rooms are off-limits, which bottles are not to be touched, which lines are not to be crossed.
“Help yourselves to anything you need,” I add, gesturing toward the bar. “Just stay out of my office.”
Victor grunts, which I assume is an acknowledgment, as he continues his vigorous pace with Theo.
“Don’t wait up,” I call over my shoulder as I head for the door.
I catch Theo’s knowing smile before I close the door behind me. As I wait for the private elevator that opens directly into my penthouse, I check the address on my phone again. Crossroads Bar. The things I’m willing to do for Elliot Chambers are beginning to surprise even me.
23
ELLIOT
Ican’t stop jiggling my leg under the table. Mike notices immediately and slides another beer toward me.
“Dude, relax. We’re not going to embarrass you in front of your...” he pauses, grinning, “what are we calling him? Boyfriend? Hook-up?”
“Jesus, Mike.” I grab the beer, my face burning. Derek laughs, but it’s good-natured, not mocking. After all these years of hiding, their easy acceptance feels surreal.
“Seriously, though,” Derek says, “we’re happy for you.”
I take a long swallow of beer. “Julian’s... different. I don’t know what he’ll think of this place.”
“What, Crossroads not fancy enough for him?” Mike glances around at the worn wooden tables, the neon beer signs, and the dartboard with missing points.
“He’s used to...” I struggle to explain Julian’s world, “different establishments.”
Derek snorts. “Well, our nachos kick ass, so he can deal.”
My phone buzzes. Julian’s outside. My stomach drops.
