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Someone said it was as easy to meet and fall in love with someone who had money as someone who was poor like me. I didn’t need a man like me, I needed the opposite.
“You can take a cab to the One Percent Club, but I warn you, I don’t think it will be easy trying to bag one of those men. It may have been as simple as you falling in love at first sight with the man of your dreams, but it will not be easy.” What did he mean? “What I’m saying, for example, it could be as simple as wanting to lose weight, but it’s not easy.”
I finally got it. I guessed I wasn’t as smart as I thought, and now I was beginning to realize I had a lot to learn which wasn’t easy for a man in his twenties who hadn’t been fucked in a month of Sundays and was willing to do anything to survive.
When I finally pulled myself from the long conversation the desk clerk had roped me into, I grabbed a cab to the One Percent Club. I wasn’t at all impressed. Like everything else in Manhattan that I’d seen so far from the outside, it hadn’t overwhelmed me at all.
I stepped into soft music and I suspected it was an Italian singing. I knew I’d heard that voice before. The song was low enough where I could whisper and sound sexy, but high enough for me to enjoy the sound of it.
The music had been just right to engage in a conversation once I got drunk enough to accept a proposal to go to bed. But this was an Italian club and I wasn’t sure whether I would end up dead or fucked beyond recognition. At this point my cock was hard and my brains had softened because of the lack of coming without the use of my fist, or technologies.
The place was full of men when I sat at the bar to get my bearings. A burly looking man with thick arms and a barreled chest eyed me, and then looked to the side at two men in expensive suits who were busy talking or arguing with their hands. By the way their hands were flaying and pointing at each other, I knew something was up.
They appeared to be in the same gene pool and probably family. They stopped for a moment and looked over at me. One wore a sexy as hell smile, and when he saw me he palmed his cock, and the other who wore the opposite of a smile, and what I’d call a surly glare, bit his lip, and tightened his jaw.
The one who had palmed his cock, and pushed the handsome dude away appeared to be in his early forties, and as much as I thought I could deal with the one who smiled at me, my cock wanted the one with the gruff demeanor and glare. Now he was one I could fall in love with in an instant. And as much as I said I wanted a man for his money, the youthful and irrational me wanted to wake up in the morning and see that handsome gruff face with the dark eyes and soft beard rubbing against my legs when he inched himself up my body and captured my cock in his full mouth, and said, “How am I doing so far?”
I was jarred out of my thoughts by the bartender. “What do you want, and why are you here? Don’t you know what kind of bar this is?”
“A gay bar, right?”
“If I were you, I’d get up and get out of here as soon as possible before the Boss makes his way over here. You stick out like a sore thumb. And for your information you got your bars mixed up.”
“Why?” I didn’t know why I hesitated or asked why. Maybe it was because I thought I was smarter than I thought, which has been proven on numerous occasion to be the opposite, but it took time to learn by your mistakes and at twenty-two I thought I had plenty of time to get things right.
“He’s a dangerous man, the one you’re eyeing who is licking his lips. I’m trying to give you advice—”
“Romeo,” I said. When I turned, leaning beside me was the thirty or forty-something dude. Our eyes locked, and I felt a connection, but not the strong one I felt with the dude standing next to him with the serious glare covering me like a blanket in the cold. The heat traveled down my chest and to my groin and up again where my face was warm and flushed. When I glanced up and gazed into the large mirror over the bar, I saw how red my face appeared, and I was sure the dude standing behind me saw it too.
Chapter 2
Romeo
“I like that name, Romeo,” he hissed, blowing against my neck and sliding his long tongue next to my ear, causing my skin to bump over. I turned with a jerk, not because I enjoyed that display of whatever that was, but he was a little too familiar and had invaded my personal space. When my eyes met his, we were so close it unsettled me, and I knew this wasn’t a man that valued anyone’s personal space except his own.
He must have seen the revulsion in my eyes, and instead he placed his finger over my bottom lip, expecting me to suck it. I narrowed my eyes in confusion, but I’d seen that move before with older men, and this time I wasn’t falling for it. He’d have me in his bed and I’d wake up in the morning with a sore ass and little else. But wasn’t this supposed to be a gay bar? When I’d asked the question, I gathered from the bartender that I was in the wrong place.
“Nice and smooth. I like that. And you, I like even better,” he drooled, as he swiped his tongue over and around his lips. His lips weren’t bad either. I could see them wrapped around my cock if I played my cards right. But what the fuck did I know about cards except I always drew the low cards in a deck? I suspected it was getting ready to happen again, but I didn’t have time or the money to think this shit through of getting involved with an obvious mobster dressed in a silk suit with a silk Italian tie.
I managed to pull myself together and concentrate on the moment and everything was in my favor. I had youth and a great-looking body, so I was told and I needed something from the mobster, and he wanted something from me.
“I came for a drink and a job if you have one,” I said, glaring into his hungry eyes and pretending to be naïve. I guessed in his world I was that and then some.
“Well, you’re in luck, boy... Romeo, because I have a position that just became vacant.” He waved his hand at the one guy I’d had my eyes on all along. The tall handsome dude with the surly suspicious glare, brown untrusting eyes, dark straight hair sauntered closer to us.
“What is it now, Nico. Don’t tell me you’re getting rid of Chad, he’s only been here for six months. You go through boys like...” Then Nico raised his hands, and the one I liked, and had a connection to, shut up quickly. He didn’t appear afraid of the older guy, but he seemed to realize he was talking too much when the older dude squinted his eyes and raised his hand a second time.
You would think I was smart enough to get the hint that I shouldn’t take any offer the older dude gave me, but like my father said, I was too smart for my own good, which came with a hint of sarcasm, and even then I didn’t understand what my father was saying, and I knew even less about what was going on in the world.
Well, you lived and learned.
“I’m headed for home because I have some house cleaning to do tonight. Have Romeo ready and willing to take this job I’m offering him, Dante—” I cut him off.
“But you didn’t offer me a job. I need to know what my responsibilities are.” He didn’t acknowledge me. He turned and someone helped him into his suit jacket, and he strolled to the door, but stopped on a dime, and when he turned he wore a broad smile that blew my breath away. Maybe I’d enjoy this after all.
“You want responsibilities. Well, they are to keep me happy and satisfied. Can you do that?” His eyes scanned my body. I felt his dark glare run from the dark-brown hair on my head to my thick hair on my ball sack. That look scared me where I wanted to cup my cock and balls to make sure they were still there, but I was afraid to. Then a smile hitched to the right of his mouth.
“But how?”
