Uptight, serious, introvert…those were the words most used to describe James.
The middle brother in the Becker family, owners of a prestigious race horse farm in South Carolina, though austere was covertly a playboy.
Unable to resist a beautiful body, whether male or female, James never had a desire to commit to just one. A consummate player, he had no interest in a relationship.
Never say never. A broken ankle is the catalyst that leads James to considering a relationship. Falling for a man already in a committed relationship with a woman was intricate enough. But the likelihood of their woven interests in each other becoming a real relationship is threatened by shallow judgment, the media and a trouble making former barn hand.
Warning: m/f/m, f/f/m, and m/m romance with strong language and explicit sexual content intended for mature readers only.
It was dark inside, as expected. James waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The music was sultry, jazz fusion and almost soothing. This place calls for a gimlet martini James thought to himself. Noting the bar along the right wall he sauntered to a free stool and sat before placing his order. The couple had chosen a small table and were sitting with their heads close together talking. Wall sconces and small, red, shaded lamps on café tables casted a dim glow throughout the club. The music was being played live by a trio of older gentleman set precariously on a stage too small for them and their instruments. The sound of a cocktail glass placed on the marble topped bar got James attention. He turned to see the bartender place his martini in front of him.
“Want to start a tab?”
“Sure, why not?”
“I don’t really give a damn whether you do or not, sonny. What’ll it be?”
James let a smirk escape after a brief moment of feeling insulted. “Start a tab for me.”
The bartender nodded and walked away. James brought his drink to his lips. The smell of gin and lime filled his senses as he took the first sip.
“Not a very likeable character now, is he?”
James held his drink at his lips as he thought to gain recognition of the voice. Slowly he lowered his glass and set it on the bar top before raising his eyes to see Remy standing next to him.
“May I?” He motioned to the bar stool in front of him.
Swallowing hard, James could only manage a small nod of approval. Remy looked so fucking hot. Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen him in a week but James didn’t think so. The man was just simply gorgeous, no matter what. James watched as Remy maneuvered his body to sit on the stool. Grabbing a section of the material of his pants leg at his thigh, he hitched the pant leg up, giving himself more room in the crotch of his pants.
“What can I get ya’?” The gruff bartender had returned.
“Same,” Remy said pointing to James’ drink.
“Put it on my tab,” James told the bartender. And to Remy he said, “May as well since he went through the trouble of setting one up for me.”
Remy smiled. James dick twitched and cursed softly.
James looked at Remy questioningly.
“You cursed.” Placing his elbow on the bar and his head in his hand, Remy leaned forward, closer to James. From this position, he stared into James eyes and waited for James to reply.
Those piercing blue fucking eyes, James thought as he let himself get lost in them. Sensing the danger of allowing himself to do so, he answered Remy.
“My smile caused you to curse?” And still he sat smiling at James.
“No, my dick twitching because you smiled at me caused me to curse.”
The wet tip of Remy’s tongue came out and slid across his bottom lip. Neither broke eye contact. James could feel his jaw tighten in frustration. The bartender placed Remy’s drink in front him and walked away. Still without breaking eye contact Remy picked up his drink and took a swallow.
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