“It’s not ‘anyone,’ though, is it?” Jace snaps. “It’s my best friend. Mystraightbest friend.”
“Guess that part’s up for debate,” I mutter, mostly to myself.
“Why don’t you come over here and talk about it face to face?” the big guy says.
No. Absolutely not. The last thing I need is Jace seeing me like this. On my knees, lips swollen, dick still hard as a rock despite the sheer terror coursing through me.
But before I can protest, I hear footsteps. The slap of sneakers on concrete, getting louder. A knock on the door.
The big guy opens it.
And there’s Jace. Sweats pulled up, hair a mess, face flushed. He stares at the big guy, then at me, on my knees with my jeans puddled around my thighs. His eyes flick to my face, to my bruised-looking lips, to the wet patch on my shirt.
“Fuck, Luca,” he breathes. “What the hell is this?”
“What does it look like?” The guy steps in front of me. A shield. He’s so big he blocks out the purple light, casting me in shadow. “He was curious. And you got your rocks off, so what’s the problem?”
“And you are? His tour guide?” Jace’s jaw is tight. All that big talk about not caring who was on the other side, and now he’s pissed. Or maybe not pissed. Thrown off. Confused. I can’t read him. I’ve never seen this expression on him before.
“Name’s Hawk,” the big guy says. “And considering where my mouth was ten minutes ago, I’d say I was more than a tour guide.”
This seems to snap Jace out of it. He looks at Hawk. Really looks at him. Takes in the shaved head, the scar through the eyebrow, the neck like a tree trunk. Then his eyes drop to the thick bulge straining against Hawk’s gray sweats.
“Hawk? Like… like the bird?” First time I’ve ever heard Jace sound awkward.
Hawk grins. He reaches behind his neck and pulls his shirt off in one smooth motion, the silver chain settling against bare skin. He turns to show Jace his back. A massive, intricatehawk spreads across his shoulder blades, wings reaching from shoulder to shoulder, talons extended mid-dive.
“Like the bird.”
I glance at Jace. His mouth is hanging open. Same as mine, probably. The tattoo is incredible. But it’s Hawk’s body I’m really seeing for the first time. The guy is enormous. Shoulders like boulders, pecs like slabs of concrete, a cobblestone stomach under a dusting of dark hair, barrel chest covered in ink. It’s ridiculous. My cock twitches against my thigh.
“Shit,” Jace whispers. “That’s… that’s sick.”
“Thanks.” Hawk turns back, muscles flexing as he bunches up his shirt and tosses it into the corner of the booth. Then he grins down at me, a glint in his eye. “Now. Luca, was it? I believe I was in the middle of something.”
And with Jace standing right there, face drained of color, Hawk hooks his thumbs into his waistband and shoves his sweats down. No underwear. His cock swings free, heavy as a club.
He wraps a fist around it and looks at me.
“Which hole?”
7
“I’m a virgin.” I don’t know why I say it. The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I’ve never done… any of this.”
Hawk studies me. His eyebrows lift. “That so? Could’ve fooled me,” he says. “The way you were working that cock, I thought you were a regular.”
My face goes nuclear. I can’t look at Jace. Can’t look at Hawk. I stare at the graffiti scrawled across the wall.CUM SLUT HERE TUESDAYS. 9 INCHES.
“First time here,” I mumble to the floor.
“Really? This your glory hole cherry?”
“Yeah.”
Hawk lets out a low whistle. “Hell of a debut, man.” He leans against the wall. “I stop by once in a while. When the itch gets bad enough. Either here or Lumen.”
“Lumen?”
