Page 62 of Mr. Naughty List
It was hard to hear over the music, so the bartender leaned close until he was practically yelling in Aaron’s ear.
“I’m bi,” he shouted. “I saw you in here the other night and thought you were hot. Then you went home withthatguy,” he nodded up at RJ, “and I realized that, even if I wasn’t with my girlfriend, you’re way out of my league.”
“Wait?What?”
The bartender leaned closer and yelled, “I told my ex I thought you were hot, and she lost her shit and dumped me.” He shrugged. “Can’t say I’m sorry I found out she was a bigot, though. Good riddance.”
Aaron blinked. Hot? The bartender had thought he washot? And then told his girlfriend about it? That was…psycho. Who does that? He didn’t know what part to latch onto first, so he just said, “Whiskey up. Maker’s Mark.” Because that was his brand too, not just his dad’s.
“Sure thing.”
The set continued with RJ oblivious to Aaron’s presence. He mostly sang with his eyes shut tonight, which was different from when Aaron had seen him the first time. But the performances were just as entertaining, touching, and impassioned. The rest of the band seemed looser, more confident, and less like they had something to prove.
The pianist was clearly fucking the drummer given the looks they exchanged, and the bassist had his eyes on his boyfriend in the audience the whole time. But they were all talented enough to keep the songs on track despite their constant flirting. The entire group wore outfits with homemade holiday sparkle added, just like RJ. They all looked festive as fuck.
Aaron rolled his eyes at himself. He was a composition teacher. He should be able to come up with better descriptions than curse words. Normally, he’d insist on it and berate himself for being too lazy to do better. But tonight, waiting and aching to be noticed by RJ, some part of him liked the commonness of the curses, the crassness. He liked not being too fussy to use them. He liked what that meant about him.
Aaron could toss off the reins. He could be wild and free. He hadn’t shown that side of himself to enough people before. Not even to himself. He needed to change that.
He’d let RJ spank this fun, dirty, naughty feeling out of him later.
Aaron bit into his lower lip just imagining the jolting rush of RJ’s hand connecting with his ass. He didn’t know if he could handle another spanking, though, given the lingering bruises from the ruler the night before. But he’d like to try. His ass ached from where he sat on the hard, wooden barstool, but the nagging discomfort just made him feel squirmy and hot inside.
“Buy you a drink?”
Aaron looked up to find a tall guy with salt-and-pepper hair and a well-trimmed goatee gazing down at him with a cocky smile. Though there was also a hint of worry in his blue gaze, obviously a tad unsure about whether he’d picked the right target for his come-on.
He hadn’t, because Aaron wasn’t going to fuck him tonight. But hehadcorrectly guessed Aaron’s orientation. Frankly, Aaron was starting to feel a little paranoid about his ability to pass for straight.
Why?
Don’t embarrass me, Aaron.
He put his chin up and smiled at the guy. Fuck his mother. There was nothing embarrassing about being gay. Or there shouldn’t be. Herefusedto let there be. With a slightly seductive tone, he accepted the guy’s offer with a coy, “Sure. Why not?”
In one way, it was a dick move because nothing was going to come of chatting the guy up, but so what? Accepting a drink wasn’t a contract, and he was feeling good tonight. When did he ever feel this proud of himself? Only when he was about to get fucked by RJ Blitz. And he had a feeling that was still going to happen, no matter how many drinks he accepted from goatee guy.
The man smiled, and Aaron took a good look at him. He wasn’t ugly despite the stupid little beard, but he was no RJ. He had tattoos, a few earrings, and now that he was sure he hadn’t made a mistake, incredibly kind blue eyes. Normally, Aaron would be spreading his ass cheeks for him in the Scruffy City Hall’s bathroom stall in less than half an hour’s time. But not tonight.
The bartender deposited Aaron’s whiskey in front of him, and the guy motioned for it to go on his tab.
Aaron put his hand out too. “No, I’ll get this round.”
Maybe he was a dick to have accepted at all, leading the guy on that way, but he wasn’t enough of a dick that he was going to let the guy waste his money as well as his time.
The guy looked dissatisfied, clearly sensing the writing on the wall, but he pulled up the stool beside Aaron and tried to start a conversation over the noise of the music.
“The name’s Trevor,” the guy said, with a twist to his handsome mouth. “You?”
“Aaron.”
“What brings you out tonight?”
A slow smile crept over Aaron’s face. He nodded toward the stage. “I’m here to see my lover’s band.”
Maybe it was the whiskey, but he gave up fighting it. Hereallyliked having a lover. Pride flowed through him like a rushing river, smoothing the fear in his pounding heart. Especially a lover as talented and hot as RJ Blitz.
“Oh. Uh, okay.” Trevor turned toward the stage and blinked. “Which one is your, um, lover?” He sounded confounded, like the word itself was foreign to him.