He hadn’t thought he could get more turned on. Which of course had him thinking about the dark-haired vampire guy from earlier. That proved his theory wrong again. He ached. He wanted to slip his hand in his pants and jerk off right there like he was sitting on the couch in his apartment, looking at the club through his laptop screen.
Good thing the leather pants hadn’t stretched enough to allow for that kind of activity.
It wasn’t just the slew of men, of hard bodies and testosterone, in such close proximity. It wasn’t even knowing all these guys were gay.
Inside this place, right here, right now, no one in his life would know what he did.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
He probably looked like a nervous virgin about to be sacrificed to please the gay gods. He had to knock it off. He wouldn’t get far if he didn’t seem like he belonged, but how do you appear casual when all you want to do is run out the door, raging hard-on or not?
One thing would help. He had to remember.
The bruises. The swollen left eye that hid the bright blue gaze. The blood-soaked
Lord of the Rings
T-shirt exactly like the one Kevin had tucked away in a box in his closet. Although his T-shirt was in pristine condition. Worn once after the night they’d waited in line for five hours to see the second movie on opening night, then never again.
He could do this. He slid his ass down to the edge of the chair and eased one leg out straight. There. More casual. And not like he had a rod stuffed up his ass.
Great. Why’d he have to go and think about something up his ass now of all times? He picked up his beer and downed a long pull.
“Hey.” A young man sat next to him. Midtwenties, with dark hair in a military-style buzz and a wide grin on his face.
It was impossible not to return the smile. “Hey.”
The guy set down a glass of soda. Apparently he’d decided to stay for a visit. “You’re new.”
So much for blending in. Despite his efforts Kevin had still managed to look like a newbie fresh out of the closet. Although he wasn’t out of the closet. Never had been.
“This your first night?” the man with the soda asked.
Not a man. More like a kid.
“Yeah.”
“I could tell.” The young man rested an elbow on the table and propped his chin in his hand. “You seem overwhelmed. Like you don’t know where to begin.”
“Not sure why. We had a place like this back in New York.”
“Really? I thought the Haven was one of a kind.” The younger man pulled his drink forward and took a sip. Through a straw. And people said Kevin looked young for his age. The kid used his tongue to guide the straw between his lips and sipped again. “I’ve never been to New York. I’ve never been anywhere, really.”
“Not a world traveler, huh?”
“I barely afford my rent and the membership here. Not much left for vacations. Not yet.” The man scooted his chair closer. “My name’s Dylan.” He held out his hand.
“Kevin.” The handshake felt normal, like meeting a new colleague.
What did he expect? For Dylan to lunge at him and stick his tongue down his throat? Use said tongue to guide Kevin’s into his mouth like he’d done with the straw?
“Did you meet Mr. Vargas?” Dylan gestured to two men exiting the elevator onto the second-floor balcony above. Vargas, the club owner, and with him was Vampire Guy. His face held the same serious expression he’d had earlier when he’d first walked into the club. What would make the guy smile?
And why did Kevin care?
Had Vampire Guy been upstairs in a room with the club’s owner? Maybe they were a couple. Did anyone at the Haven date? Like a real relationship?
If they were together, and if Kevin’s theory about a cover-up was correct, did that mean Vampire Guy was involved with the owner in whatever was going on at the club?
The two men stopped at the top of the staircase and stood close, locked in an intimate conversation.
“Hello.” Dylan snapped his fingers before Kevin’s eyes. “You in there?”
“Huh?”
“That’s one serious stare. See someone you like?”
“Oh…” Kevin shook his head. “No.”
Dylan flashed another grin. “Sure you didn’t. So did you meet the owner? Raymond Vargas?”
“Yeah. Had my interview yesterday.”
“Wow.” Dylan sucked on the straw again, his eyes wide. “That was fast. I was on a waiting list for three months.”
“Maybe they make you young guys wait longer than the rest of us.”
“Young?” Dylan’s voice squeaked with that one word. “You and I’ve gotta be about the same age.”
“Everyone makes that mistake.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Nah. It’s okay. I’ll just look damn good at eighty.”
Dylan laughed with him. The sound eased Kevin’s nerves. He wouldn’t have to fight an attraction to this man. He couldn’t so much as dance with a guy who’d remind him of another younger man he’d once had in his life.
Forget anything more than dancing.
More? Like what? Kissing?
He did not need to think about that. Think about the scratch of masculine stubble against his skin, strong lips covering his, a tongue sliding along his own, that tongue on his neck, his chest, his dick.
On the second-floor balcony, Vampire Guy had taken a step away from Vargas, but the two still talked. What would it be like to kiss him? He probably had a lot of experience. Probably knew just how to work a guy’s mouth. His cock. His everything.
This was such a bad idea.
Dylan laughed again.
“What’s so funny?”
“You sure look like someone who’s found what he wants. You’ve been staring at him like he’s the first chance you’ve had to fuck a guy in years.”
Kevin forced down a swallow of his beer. “Do you know him?”
“Nope. But it looks like we might be the only two who don’t. Did you notice how quiet the place got when he walked up those stairs?”
A shiver worked its way through Kevin’s body. He had the distinct feeling he was being watched. No, not watched. Examined. Inspected. Maybe the creepy old lady on the bus had known something after all.
Vampire Guy now had his gaze locked on Kevin.
He’d never been scrutinized that intently. What was that look about?
It didn’t matter.
This wasn’t why Kevin had come to the Haven.
He needed to uncover what was going on and get the hell out as fast as he could. Before he did something he couldn’t take back.
Like the last time—the only time—he’d ever been with a man.
Although one clumsy, interrupted blowjob could never match what he’d been picturing since he’d walked into the Haven. Since he’d taken one look at Vampire Guy.
* * * *
Walter folded up the printouts Vargas had given him and settled in before the wall of electronic equipment in the club’s main security room.
Six monitors with switches to several feeds all captured video of nearly every inch of the club’s main floor. The digital video equipment recorded the feeds, and a computer allowed for central control of everything. His company had installed the setup when he’d finally convinced Vargas to add cameras to the first floor, but the job they’d done even impressed Walter. Although now he wished he’d been able to talk Vargas into recording the entire club, minus the individual private rooms.
Vargas typed in a command, and the main monitor displayed the recorded video of the previous night. He pointed to the screen. “That’s him.”
On the video Seth Fisher moved away from the club’s front door. He had short, spiked dark hair that stuck up all over. He wore jeans and a pink Lady Gaga T-shirt and sported a huge grin on his face and a spring in his step.
Cute kid. “He definitely looks younger than twenty-five.”
“Yeah.”
Walter leaned forward. “Is that T-shirt Bedazzled?”
“I think so.” Vargas laughed. “I don’t even want to know how you know what Bedazzled is.”
“Back at ya.” Walter didn’t want to admit there’d been that many sleepless nights watching infomercials. Not even to Vargas.
Vargas pointed to the time stamp on the monitor. He punched in a series of keys. The image changed to the main stairs at the back of the club. Seth Fisher came into view. Vargas pointed to the time stamp again. Less than thirty seconds from when he’d entered the club, Seth skipped going up the stairs to the reservation desk and instead got in the elevator on the first floor.
“Looks like he had plans to meet someone.”
“That’s what I thought.” Vargas fast-forwarded the video. Quick movements of men filled the screen as members traipsed up and down the staircase. Eventually activity on the screen slowed, the club thinning out. The staff started the cleanup and closing procedures. Vargas paused the recording.
“He never comes back down.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’ve watched it three times. And I had a couple guys in security go through it.”
Walter stood, feeling caged within the confines of the narrow security room. “Can you give me copies of all that footage?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll have it analyzed. See if anyone’s tampered with it.”
“Who could do that?” Vargas motioned toward the locked door to the security room, then dropped his hand. “Someone from the security staff.” He shook his head as he stared at Walter. “Do you trust anyone?”
“Not many.”
“Makes sense. Cops rarely do.”
“That’s not my game anymore.”
“Sure it isn’t.”
Walter ignored the comment and asked, “He’s been coming to the club for a year?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve never seen him before.”
“That’s hardly surprising.” Vargas reclined in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “When was the last time you walked up the stairs?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Asshole. Before that.”
Walter took his seat once more, holding back on the impulse to let out an exasperated sigh.
When he didn’t say anything, Vargas added, “One thing I’ve realized in the last few years, you reach a certain point in life and it just plain sucks being alone.”
Walter held up a hand. “Leave it. I like my life the way it is. Nice and quiet.” He scooped up the folded papers with the names of the security personnel and newest members and tucked them in his pocket. “Is there anything else I’m missing? Anything out of the ordinary been going on? It may not seem like it’s related.”
“No,” Vargas said. “Although I could’ve missed something like that. Been dealing with a lot of shit.” He groaned and sank farther into the chair. “You have no idea how hard it is to run a respectable club with a dining room and four floors of rooms when you do not receive your linen deliveries three days in a row. Clientele here expect clean sheets on the beds.”
Which was why men preferred the Haven to other avenues of hooking up. A man could get any experience he was after. Even if that was a hot shower and a clean, warm bed after a rough fuck while chained to a wall.
“You trust all the employees?” Walter asked.
“Most of them I do. Some of the newer guys I don’t know all that well, but I trust all the guys in security.”
“Any of them in security fucking other guys on the staff? Or club members?”
Vargas raised his eyebrows. “What do you think? The only restriction for all employees is they’re not allowed to fuck while on the clock. Either each other or any of the members.”
Walter cleared his throat to stifle the chuckle. Years back he’d gotten blown by an employee while the room service he’d ordered grew cold on the delivery tray.
Vargas sighed. “I don’t want to know what they’re doing, do I?”
“Nope.”
“Great. When did I get so old I’m this out of touch?”
Walter scoffed. Vargas was five years younger than him. He nodded to the monitor. “Show me the live feed. I want to see who else is here.”
Vargas returned to the control panel and brought up the video feed of the main floor. He clicked from view to view as they scanned the crowd on the largest monitor.
They sat in silence, watching the lounge, the bar, the dining room. It looked the same as it had whenever Walter visited. The majority of the men not looking for anything special, out looking for a score, the fuck of the year, the guy who would blow him for a half hour and not bitch about a sore jaw. Meaningless. Empty. He’d done this scene. He’d also done the flip side—a home, a partner.
He didn’t think he could take going back to either life.
Casual fucking was too…
casual
for him these days.
And the other…well, his heart might not be able to take that. Even if he did ever end up getting serious with someone again, it would have to be a man his own age, not a young guy from the club. It would have to be someone settled in his life, but who also got that life was fleeting, someone—
No, he was right the first time. He couldn’t go back.
Besides, he wouldn’t want to hurt his right hand’s feelings. They’d grown close over the last five years. A lot of late nights together. And early mornings. At this point if he fucked anyone else, he might actually feel like he was cheating.
A man sitting in the corner of the bar caught his eye. Walter leaned toward the monitor. “Stop there. On that guy I asked you about earlier. The paralegal.” The camera paused on Kevin Dennison. “Interesting.” The way the man’s gaze kept darting to the crowd of dancing men. Like he wanted to stay focused on them but fought himself on it.
Then he turned away from the dance floor, and Walter got a better view of his face. Expressive brown eyes. Those eyes would look great staring up at him while the guy was on his knees blowing him.
How long had it been since he’d had a blowjob? Too long. That’s why he was gawking at such a young guy. Too young for his heartbeat to be speeding up like this.
He ran a hand through his hair, nodded toward the screen. “He’s new.”
“You still have a good eye. Just interviewed him yesterday. Tonight’s his first night.”
“He’s not just new to the club. He’s new to…everything.”
“Don’t think so.” Vargas studied the image on the screen. “Just moved here. Used to live in New York and attended a smaller club there. I know the owner, so I gave him a call. He vouched for the man. That’s why I let him join so quickly.”