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“I told you, I don’t want any trouble at The Cellar—“
“It’s not trouble,” I interrupt. “It’s a game. That’s all. A game I’m going to win.”
Rachel lets out a long, slow sigh. “Right. A game. Well, good luck with that.”
I just nod on my way out of the room. Good luck? I hope so.
I’m going to need it.
* * *
I pull up to my apartment building and stop the bike, but I stay sitting on it for a while, staring straight ahead and thinking about Julian Castellani.
I can’t get that little asshole out of my mind—or his actual asshole, either. I’m all keyed up after our session tonight, and neither of us got any relief.
But I’m not gonna go upstairs and rub one out to the thought of that fucker. From the start, I promised myself: what I was doing with him was business, not pleasure, and that meant treating it like a job, which means no jerking off in my own bed while I think abouthim.
I just need to take my mind off of him. So instead of going upstairs, I head down the block to a dive bar on the corner. The place is empty apart from the guy behind the bar, and the loud, fake moans coming from the bathroom section. I don’t know what’s going on in there, and I don’t want to know.
I give an up-nod at the bartender and he pours me a bourbon from a non-labeled bottle, my usual. Just like Julian fucking Castellani,I don’t come here for high society and fine wines. I grip the glass tight as my brain replays him saying it, the snotty inflection in his voice, the sneer on his movie-star good-looking face.
I’m not dumb enough to think that one sex tape, one threat, is enough to turn him. But the mention of carrying out a few hits didn’t seem to faze him—even the hint that his own brother would be one of them. Is the guy really that stone cold? I don’t like AJ much, but I’d sure as shit have a reaction if someone ever suggested I take him out. And if it was Gino? Hell, my reaction would be to kill the person who wanted him dead.
I head to a table and pull out my phone so I can replay the video again—sound off, of course. It’s a dumb idea, because watching it just makes me remember his ass clenching around my fingers, pulling at my tongue…
From the bathroom comes a throaty, male, “Yeah, baby, just like that.”
Jesus Christ.
But despite myself, my dick twitches in my pants. I might hate Julian Castellani, from the silver spoon in his mouth to the perfectly pedicured toenails on his feet, but I can’t deny he’s a great fuck. That snug hole of his seems to be the perfect fit for any part of me I want to put in it. My mind won’t stop replaying the feel of his velvet insides against my fingers, and my dick won’t go down past half-mast.
I need a little relief.
“You got another bathroom?” I grunt at the bartender, as I walk over to order another drink.
“Staff only.”
“Come on, man. Be nice.”
He shrugs. “Extra twenty to use it.”
“Fuck you.”
He grins wide. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile, and I don’t like it. “There’s a bidet and everything,” he says.
“Fuck you twice.”
“If you’re gonna be like that, bathroom’s closed,” the guy says with a shrug before turning his attention back to the baseball game on the TV up in the corner. “Shit your pants in the street. See if I care.”
I crumple up the twenty and throw it at him. He squints at me, but the look on my face must tell him not to push it. “Enjoy,” he says, opening the swing flap on the bar and thumbing behind him at the staff door.
The bathroom is surprisingly clean. But I’m only here for one thing, so I quickly lock the door behind me and turn on the sink.
I open my pants and let out a heavy sigh of relief as I jerk off, thinking about Julian. About the way he feels when I’m inside him, how he fucks back as hard as I give it to him, how he acted like it would be no big deal for me to get my fist into him, and the way his voice shook a little—it told me he wasn’t as unaffected by the idea as he was making out.
I look down at my tattooed hand working over my cock, imagine pushing the Bernardi crest into that classy Castellani ass, and I come with a groan and a choked-off curse.
The image fades fast and reality comes crashing back. I just jerked off in the toilet of my local dive bar.
