Page 5 of Scout

Where do I know that guy from?

He’s got that look. I swear I’ve seen him before, but not in any hospital hallway. I check my socials, scroll through Instagram and LinkedIn and even Facebook like it’s two thousand eleven.

Nothing.

I drum my fingers on the table, trying not to look obsessed—which I am, obviously. Then it hits me like a slap.

No way.

I grab my phone and pull up the Foxy’s site. Yeah, I used it last year for a benefit I didn’t want to attend alone.

And there he is. Scout. That’s his name. Full profile. Same cocky smirk. Same too-blue eyes and golden hair and the kind of face you remember even if you tried not to. I remember trying to book him last year but he was unavailable.

And now? Now he's here. With Kendrix.

That fucker hired him. Hired him. Paid cash to shove this perfect little blond sex god in my face so I’d feel something.

And guess what? It worked.

After dinner, everyone moves toward the cocktail hour in the adjacent ballroom. Jazz band. Waiters with silver trays. Everyone’s mingling, sipping drinks, donating money like it's air.

I see Scout standing alone near a column, sipping something pink from a coupe glass.

This is it. My moment.

I walk over, slow and steady, rage already coiling in my spine. I stop in front of him, get in close. Too close. He doesn’t back away though—just watches me with those eyes, waiting to see what kind of animal I am.

I brace one hand against the wall beside his head and lean in. "You're a cute little thing, baby boy," I murmur. "Hope you’re not broken by the time this little game’s over."

He swallows—tiny movement, but I catch it. His fingers twitch around his glass. But then his spine straightens and he steps in closer. His body presses against mine and yeah, I feel it… he’s hard. I barely keep the growl in.

“I always play to win, Xavier,” he purrs, voice low. “Maybe tonight Kendrix’s cock in my tight little ass will be my prize.”

Fuck.

I open my mouth to respond but don’t get the chance.

“Kendrix!” Scout says, slipping out from under my arm with the ease of someone who’s done it a million times. And there Kendrix is, fresh from the bathroom, eyes locked on us—tense, coiled, ready to pounce.

“What’s going on here?” he asks.

Scout plasters on a smile, slinks over to him, and wraps both arms around his neck. He kisses him, sloppy and loud, and I want to punch a wall.

“Just a little tiff between your men, baby,” Scout says, all sweet and fake and perfect. “Nothing to worry about.”

Kendrix looks at me. I glare back.

“Kendrix,” I growl.

“Xavier,” he says, cool as ever.

Scout pouts, fingers trailing down Kendrix’s chest. “We should get going, baby. I’m getting tired, and you promised me a massage and naked cuddles tonight.”

My cock twitches. Fuck my life.

Kendrix’s eyes widen, but he recovers fast. “I did, didn’t I?” He brushes a kiss to Scout’s temple. “Well, let’s get you home and out of that Armani.”

Scout turns just before they reach the exit, his hand still linked with Kendrix’s. He looks right at me over his shoulder.