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Jonah: Right to left, dude. A B or C.
Sean rubbed at his smile, utterly amused, even though a part of him felt bad for the guy. To need this kind of help just to buy a freaking shirt? Poor Jonah. Although, deep down, it made Sean adore him even more. He typed out his message.
Sean: B and C.
Jonah: Thanks. You’re my hero.
Sean: Does that make you my damsel in distress?
Jonah: Bite me.
Sean: Sorry. That’s against the hero code.
Another text. This one with a picture of Jonah’s middle finger.
Jonah: Hero code this, bitch. And can you bring me one of those coffees when you get off?
Sean laughed.
“Who’s Jonah?”
Sean jerked and spun around. Ledger, standing super close. With a great big grin on his face. Guess he’d been eavesdropping over Sean’s shoulder. Sean stared at him blankly.
The guitarist chuckled. “That hot guy you’re texting. He your boyfriend?”
Sean smirked and slid his phone back into his pocket. “Try my roommate.”
“Nice. With bennies?”
Sean laughed and rolled his eyes. The guy was incorrigible. “No. We’re just friends. Completely platonic.”
Ledger lifted his brows. Roamed his gaze down Sean’s body. “Seriously? How do you keep your hands off each other?”
Sean laughed again and shook his head. “I’m not having this conversation.”
Ledger grinned. “Good thinking. Let’s go have a smoke.”
Sean eyed him, halfway considering his proposal, knowing a cigarette had nothing to do with what Ledger was offering. Because ever since Tuesday, since Sean’s session with Max, he’d been horny as fucking hell. Probably because his sore ass kept reminding him of their scene, which in turn kept Sean raring to go. And honestly, having to work with a non-stop semi-hard on wasn’t exactly fun. Every time his pants rubbed against his crotch, his dick threatened to go full blown. Sean glanced past Ledger to check on his tables. All still good to go. Maybe if he let Ledger take the edge off, the rest of his shift would be more… comfortable.
He looked back at the guitarist. Rubbed his fly. Ledger grinned his sexy grin, reading the signs. Sean eyed his curved lips. Envisioned that mouth on his dick. Gliding up and down his rigid length. Sean’s pulse picked up speed, but right off the bat, he knew the reason for it was twofold. The first was obvious. The prospect of getting blown. Specifically, in the next five minutes. Sean loved blowjobs. Fucking loved them. And Ledger’s were exceptionally amazing.
Problem was, while the idea of getting his dick sucked excited him, the knowledge of who’d be doing it didn’t. Which was crazy, because again, Ledger’s blowjobs were phenomenal. And the guy himself was hot as effing shit. Still, ironically, just picturing him blowing Sean flooded him with as much anxiety as anticipation. As if for some unexplainable reason, getting it on with the guy repulsed Sean on some newfangled level. But why? Nothing about Ledger was any different. The guitarist was exactly the same.
Max’s face came to mind. Was this all because of him? No. No way. Sure, he was gorgeous, and yeah, he definitely knew how to rock a guy’s world. But the two of them weren’t compatible. Not like that. Never would be. The guy was a Dom-for-hire for fuck’s sake. Besides, it was obvious Max wasn’t interested in him that way. So any hope for more was pretty much dead in the water.
Sean inwardly scowled. Regardless of the reason, this cockblock deal sucked. He could really fucking use a good blowjob.
“Sorry, man.” He shook his head. “Can’t. Not tonight.”
Ledger glanced at Sean’s tables, then looked at Sean, perplexed. “Why? You’re not busy.” He eyed Sean suspiciously. “You sure that guy Jonah’s not your boyfriend?”
Sean snorted and looked away. “Yeah. Totally sure.”
“Then what’s your deal? You love our breaks.”
Sean nodded. “Yeah. I know. I just… I dunno… feel off.”
“Pretty sure I can get you turned back on.”
Sean laughed. “Sorry, music man. A cigarette’s all I’ve got for you tonight.”
“Fine,” Ledger sighed. “A cigarette will do. Next time, though…” He slid Sean a knowing look.
Sean smirked and grabbed his pack of smokes. “Next time. Yep. You bet.”
* * * * *
Max strapped on his second wrist cuff as he reached the basement door, the one leading down to his dungeon. It’d been a week since Sean had been there, a week since Max last saw his face. A face, it seemed, he was growing pretty fond of. No surprise there, though. Sean was inconceivably beautiful—and currently waiting in Max’s playroom. Scott had let him in twenty minutes ago, not that Max was running behind. No, his delay was very much intentional. He wanted to give Sean time to strip and assume position, but also a chance to downright anticipate. Let his imagination run wild. Get his blood pumping faster.
Max grabbed the bronze knob, twisted, then pulled. Light spilled into the hallway from the stairwell. Time to go greet his little minx. Max headed down, feeling more eager than he should. Which was fucking ridiculous. Max didn’t do eager. But Sean was back, and as always, had that effect. Making Max feel different. Slightly off-center. A sensation Max was pretty sure spelled trouble. Definitely spelled irksome, since he was powerless to stop it. But it wouldn’t be that way forever. Wasn’t an option. Not if their time together was to continue. Max refused to operate without full control. Of his subs, yes, but also himself. Mind and body. A requisite Sean was currently undermining. Max would figure it out, though. He always did. Would tackle this impediment, then extinguish it.
