outside before a pale freckled hand landed on his shoulder.
“Mr Masterson, please, I just need five minutes.”
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9
Adam plucked the hand from his shoulder and kept walking. He made it almost a
whole block before the constant verbal spewage from the lawyer finally got to him. Adam stopped suddenly and spun around, one finger aimed at the man’s face. “What part of I don’t want to hear do you not understand? Go chase an ambulance or something and leave me alone!”
The man’s pale skin flushed as he glared down at Adam. “Do you have to be such an ass? I’m trying to help you out here.”
“You mean, trying to buy me off for Rollins the second,” Adam muttered, jabbing his finger at the lawyer. “I don’t want anything from—”
“No! That’s not what I’m trying to do!” The man sighed and shook his head before
giving Adam a pleading look. “Please, will you just—can we sit down and get a cup of coffee?” He glanced at Adam’s bare chest and flinched. “Or maybe we could go to your place and talk—”
The guy sounded so desperate Adam knew he was going to cave. “Fine. You can give
me a ride to my apartment.” At least that way he wouldn’t have to walk. “It’s about ten minutes away on Waltom Avenue.”
“Good, okay.” He looked so relieved Adam was almost glad to have agreed. “I’m
James Stratton.”
Adam glanced at the man’s proffered hand then held his own battered ones up where Stratton could see the bloody bruised knuckles. “I don’t think you really want to shake my hand.”
Stratton dropped his hand back to his side. “Is that from the altercation with Mitch?”
“Right, if you want to call me trying to avoid getting raped by an idiot with an
aversion to condoms an altercation, then sure.” Adam inspected his hands closely then added, “Some of it’s from knocking Ed on his ass, too, but that’s okay because he likes me now?”
“Ed?”
Adam smirked at Stratton. “Yeah. Big guy in the cell with me. Once I let him know his advances weren’t welcome he was a lot nicer. Still creepy, but nicer.”
Stratton’s pale skin had turned almost translucent. “Oh. I don’t…but you’re okay?
Neither of them, uh, hurt you?”
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“Only when their faces slammed into my fists. Where are you parked?”
“In front of the station,” Stratton gestured over his shoulder before cupping Adam’s shoulder and turning back towards the police station. Adam pulled his arm free and walked with Stratton, stopping when the lawyer did beside a jacked up Dodge Dually. “Here we are, let me just…” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a key fob.
Adam eyed the truck and wanted to groan. The damn thing was huge, and
he…wasn’t. He’d have to climb in, literally. Stratton pressed a button then opened the passenger door. He turned to Adam. “It’s kind of high. I keep meaning to get the running boards but… Do you need me to help you in?”
“No.” Adam glared at Stratton. “You do know there’s a popular theory that guys buy big trucks like this because they’re overcompensating?”
Stratton looked shocked for a minute then he laughed as he stepped away from the
door. “People can say what they want. I’ve dated guys with small cars that, the argument could be made, were perfect representations of their dick size. I’m a big guy—” Stratton snapped his mouth shut and blushed from his neck to the roots of his red hair. “I mean, I’m tall, and my shoulders—”
For a lawyer, Stratton sure could get tongue-tied. Adam laughed and reached for the
oh shit
bar, just managing to grip it. He glanced over his shoulder and grinned when he caught Stratton eyeing his butt. “Stop tripping over your tongue and get in the truck. I want to go home and shower.”
“I wasn’t—” Stratton shut up and Adam turned his attention back to getting himself into the passenger seat. By the time he managed it Stratton was already buckled in and had the truck started.
Adam buckled his seatbelt and rested his head against the seat. “So what is so
important you had to chase me down the street?”
Stratton cleared his throat as he steered the truck into the busy street. “I do work for Mitchell Rollins the second, but I’m a real estate attorney. Apparently whoever he uses to handle things like this wasn’t available.”
“Probably busy paying off other people Mitch—” Adam sat up and gaped at Stratton’s profile. “Fuck! Has he raped other men? I didn’t think—I mean, I did think abstractedly that his daddy probably had to clean up his messes, but I didn’t think think!”
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“I’ve heard things, rumours,” Stratton admitted, “but I didn’t believe them really, until Rollins the second called me demanding I go to the police station and clean up Mitch’s latest ‘mess’. Now I can’t help but wonder… Did you hear about the guy who raped men and women for years, decades, before he got caught? It was here in Montana.”
Adam rubbed his queasy stomach and nodded. “Yeah, I did.”
Stratton stopped the truck at a red light and glanced at him. “That’s what I thought about. I guess what I really wanted to find out was if you would be willing to press charges against Mitch.”
“I wish I could, but he didn’t touch me. He didn’t mention rape, he didn’t threaten to kill me—and I went to his place willingly.” Adam sighed and leaned his head back, this time closing his eyes and replaying last night’s event in his mind. “Unless he can be charged for having a little dick and being terminally stupid—and I mean that literally, since, despite what we’d agreed to before I left the bar with him, he demanded to fuck me bare, which wasn’t going to happen. He got mad and threw a fit, I made fun of his little pecker, twice, and the second time was the last straw, I guess. He came at me and I hit him. And spent the night in jail.”
Stratton was silent for several moments until they were almost to Waltom. “Right or left?”
“Left, Waterwood Apartments, third building on the right past the pool,” Adam
muttered. “So that’s what you wanted, to see if I would press charges?”
Stratton nodded then cast him an embarrassed glance. “Well, I’m supposed to pay you off, and I don’t know what Rollins will do if he thinks he can’t buy your silence.”
Adam didn’t either, but he’d be damned if he’d take Rollins’ money, especially now that it had occurred to him that Mitch likely had hurt other men before—and would continue doing so. It made Adam sick but he didn’t know what he could do to put a stop to it.
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12
Friday nights at the Turtle were all about one thing—getting laid. Everyone from the staff to the last man who walked through the doors into a sea of writhing grinding bodies knew it. The DJ kept the songs spinning, one fuck me now song after another, nothing sweet and sappy in the mix. Fridays weren’t about love and forever here—and that made it perfect in Adam’s mind as he paid the cover charge and slipped through the club’s door.
Adam grinned as he inhaled deeply, letting the scent of sweat and sex fill his nostrils.
For tonight, he couldn’t think of a better scent in the world. It teased at him, warming him inside as if seeping from his lungs into his bloodstream and shooting straight to his cock.
Adam blinked until his eyes were adjusted to the darkened interior. His skin prickled with anticipation as a tight ball of need burned in his belly.
It’d been a bitch of a week what with the whole Mitch shit last weekend, then coming in to work on Monday to find out his and most of his co-worker’s hours at the restaurant were going to be cut back. Paigianos had weathered through much of the economic slump, limped along really, but the past several months had seen a catastrophic drop in diners.
Adam and his co-workers weren’t stupid, they’d gossiped and shared their fears of unemployment on more than one occasion and all agreed it was coming. They just hadn’t expected it so soon—and despite the cutting of hours as a stopgap to save money, closure of Paigianos was looming over the heads of everyone. Short of a miracle, Adam didn’t see how the place could be saved. Billings would soon be losing one of its oldest fine dining establishments.
And I came here to forget heavy real world shit, not roll in it. I can worry about being
unemployed and moving back in with Mom later.
A slight shudder slithered down his back.
Thinking about his mom when he was about to find a man to fuck him senseless was kind of…wrong. Ick. Adam shoved aside his worries with a slow roll of his shoulders. He surveyed the crowd of people on the dance floor. Men in various states of undress were only feet away. Why was he standing there like an idiot? It was time to go on the hunt for tonight’s entertainment.
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The music shifted into a wordless rhythm that seeped into Adam. He undulated his
way towards the dance floor in a series of slow, sensuous moves. A glance at the men seated at the tables didn’t turn up anyone promising—but there, at the bar—oh yes! Adam sent a sultry smile at the blond, getting one back in return. There was definitely a wicked gleam in the man’s eyes, and Adam knew he could have those full lips wrapped around his cock soon.
But a little anticipation was always a good thing. Adam turned from the man and
joined the sweat-slicked bodies on the dance floor, letting the wave and roll of the crowd’s gyrations pull him in. He closed his eyes and moaned as hands stroked over his chest, his ass, and, maddeningly briefly, his thick erection where it pressed against the zip of his skin-tight leather pants. Someone tugged at his shirt and Adam raised his arms, not caring that he’d likely never see the shirt again. A hard warm body pressed against him, the slide of silk against his bare back pebbling his skin with chill bumps. Arms slipped around him, pulling him back. At the same time fingers plucked at his nipples. Adam arched into the touches, pushing his ass out in a slow grind when he felt the hard lump of another man’s denim covered dick prodding at it.
“You are one sexy little fucker,” a low voice growled in his ear. Adam grinned and lifted his arms, reaching up and back to loop them around the man’s neck. He opened his eyes and tipped his head back, unsurprised to find the blond from the bar behind him. The blond’s eyes were dark, the heavy lids low as he gave Adam a heated look. Adam closed his eyes on a moan as one of the man’s hands left his nipple and slid down to cup his erection.
“Nice, baby.” The man growled and squeezed Adam’s package. Adam thrust into the
touch, his body tingling from his toes to the top of his head. “Let’s get out of here—unless you want me to fuck you right here.”
Adam opened his eyes and looked around. They wouldn’t be the only ones, that was
certain, but as adventurous as he was, this was a little more of an audience than he was comfortable with. But he’d learned a hard lesson last week, and going home with a stranger wasn’t something he was ready to do again. Being alone with one wasn’t, either, which meant Adam was limited in his options—limited, but determined. Adam turned in the man’s arms and stood on his toes, stretching to place his mouth by his soon-to-be conquest’s ear.
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“Bathroom would be a little more private.” Not much, and they’d have to be quick, but they wouldn’t be the only guys fucking in one of the grungy stalls. And Adam wouldn’t be alone with a man he didn’t know he could trust.
The blond grabbed Adam’s hand and stepped back, nodding as he smiled. “That will
work,” Adam thought the other man said, but with the music so loud that it vibrated in his stomach, he couldn’t hear any actual words. The man spun on his heels, shoulder slamming against another’s back. No one noticed or cared, not with the scent of sex surrounding them, feeding the roiling need that swelled in the crowd.
Adam planted his feet and tugged against the man’s grip when they cleared the dance floor. The blond turned a questioning glance on him. “Condoms, or we don’t fuck,” he half shouted, plucking a foil package from his front pocket.
The blond grinned and nodded. “Of course. I’m horny, not an idiot.”
“You’d be surprised…”
Adam let himself be led towards the restroom, his eyes practically glued to the lean ass in front of him. He wasn’t prepared for the man to stop and splatted against the broad back like a bug on a windshield, grunting and cursing as his nose was mashed against the hard planes of the blond’s body.
“Could have warned me,” Adam muttered, rubbing his nose as he looked at the man.
But the blond didn’t pay any attention, staring instead at something to his left. Adam turned to look as well and his stomach plummeted to his ankles, smashing through the desire hardening his cock and deflating it like a popped balloon.
The blond looped his arm around Adam’s shoulders and pulled him roughly against
him. “How long do you think we were on the dance floor?”
Adam swallowed down the bile and fear that were tangled with a ball of anger as he craned his neck so he could glare at Mitch. The bastard was huddled in a booth with a giggling young man who didn’t look old enough to be in the Turtle. If the kid was a day over sixteen Adam would eat his shorts.
“Maybe fifteen minutes, max,” Adam muttered as he watched Mitch slide from the
booth, pulling the kid out with him. The little thing was nearly boneless, stumbling and glassy eyed… “How long has the kid been in here?”
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“Came in right before you,” the blond said. He stiffened against Adam, his chest
vibrating as a growl passed his lips. “And he sure as fuck wasn’t drinking anything stronger than a Coke before I followed you. I was watching because he looks underage, no matter the fucking orange band on his wrist.”
Yeah. Either the bouncer was blind or a fucking idiot. There was no way the kid was eighteen. As Adam watched, Mitch scowled and began dragging the kid towards the door.