Page 16 of Shaken and Stirred (Bottle Service Boys #1)

ALEX

How did he do it?

How did Ryder manage to charm every damn person who worked at Top Shelf as well as the customers? Why was I the only one who saw through his winks, sexy abs, and knuckle taps to the shallow bully beneath?

He’d started at Top Shelf precisely one week ago and already snagged his own table. Not only that, he worked it like a pro, learning the drinks, memorizing prices, and balancing efficiency and professionalism with the VIP entertainment service we provided, which was better than any club in Boston.

He was a model employee, and I hated it.

A chin landed on my shoulder at the same time as two thin but strong arms wound around my waist.

I immediately tensed.

“What’s up with you tonight?” Trevor spoke directly in my ear so he didn’t have to shout above the music. His sweat-dampened hair tickled the side of my face.

Now that I knew my best friend was the one draped over me and not some plastered customer, I relaxed against him. “You on break?”

“Mm-hmm.” On Wednesday, he got a thirty-minute break every ninety minutes when he danced. The dancers used the time to rehydrate, stash their cash in their lockers, and catch their breath. “You didn’t answer my question. You’ve been off today. Everything okay at home?”

“Yeah. It’s been a good week. My mom’s new medication seems to be helping with her energy levels. She’s actually considering a visit to her sister’s house in Connecticut for a few days. Her brother-in-law offered to drive up here and pick her up.”

“Wow, Alex, that’s fantastic. She hasn’t been able to go anywhere in ages.”

Tell me about it. Between her and my brother, I hadn’t had a moment alone in the house for longer than I could remember. How incredible would it be to have even an hour of solitude? “Yeah, she’s excited.”

“And your brother?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t seen much of him, but as far as I know, he’s not in jail or the hospital, so I’m counting that as a win.”

Trevor chuckled against my ear. “Sounds like all is as good as can be on the home front, and yet you’re still all broody.”

“Broody is my default.”

“Yeah, but tonight it’s worse than usual.”

My gaze landed on Ryder, where he laughed and flirted with a VIP table full of rowdy college guys who couldn’t get enough of him.

They hollered and cheered as he distributed what had to be a sixth round of shots.

Together, they all downed the shot, Ryder included, though I had a feeling he’d adopted our water trick because he’d participated in every round while knowing Parker’s strict rule of one drink every two hours for staff.

One of his customers, a devastatingly handsome guy with the straightest and whitest teeth I’d ever witnessed, slid a hand up Ryder’s chest and around the back of his neck. I couldn’t help but stiffen as the guy leaned in.

Was he about to kiss Ryder?

Was Ryder going to let him?

“Relax,” Trevor said in my ear. “Ryder knows the rules and has followed them so far.”

Sure enough, Ryder drew back and managed to extricate himself from the customer’s grabby arms without offending the man or risking his tip.

“See?”

I grunted. “He’s pushing boundaries, and one of these times, he’s going to fuck up and go too far.” God, I sounded like a middle-aged father, annoyed he had to wait up half the night for his kid to come home.

Trevor sighed. “He’s not that bad, you know. He’s early for every shit, works hard, learns fast, and the customers fucking love him. You might find him tolerable if you give him half a chance.”

What the hell? How had I missed Trevor giving Ryder his stamp of approval?

I spun, dislodging Trevor’s hold on me. My friend was kneeling on a barstool, which explained how he’d been able to rest his chin on my shoulder while being six inches shorter than me.

He wore his favorite harness, the one he always danced in on Wednesdays.

It was funny how, as cute as Trevor was, I’d never looked at him nearly naked and wanted to lick him all over.

“No, I won’t. He’s an asshole, Trev. The whole reason he sought out this job was to fuck with me. You forget I know him.”

Trevor frowned and shifted so he was no longer kneeling but sitting on the stool. “Babe, you knew him in high school. Most people are assholes in high school. Don’t you think you’re clinging to this grudge too hard?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Sure, I hadn’t told Trevor the details of why Ryder took this job, nor had I mentioned his ridiculous idea for a bet, but the way he sided with Ryder still stung.

Trevor was my friend. My close friend and my only one.

“I had no idea you liked him so much.” Stepping back, I shook my head.

“My break’s over. I gotta get back to work. Thanks for having my back, though.”

With that cheap parting shot, I stalked toward the staff room to stow my water bottle.

“Oh, come on, Alex,” Trevor shouted after me. “Don’t be mad. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

I lifted a hand in a half-see-you-later, half-it’s-fine wave. Trevor would stress all night if he thought I was truly mad at him.

“You better come to Parker’s party Sunday night. I’ll show up and drag you out of your house if I have to.”

Ugh, a party on a Sunday night. Who wanted to go to a party on a Sunday night? People who worked on all the good party nights, that’s who. I’d go, not because Trevor begged me to attend, but because it wasn’t healthy for me to have zero life beyond work and school.

“Pink Pony Club” blared through the entire club.

I couldn’t help but nod along as I went to the staff room, but that was as much dancing as I did without the promise of a hefty tip.

This song never failed to have the whole club on their feet, singing and dancing.

All the guys at my two tables were shaking their asses on the dance floor, so I had a few seconds before I needed to head over to the VIP section to check in.

As much as I enjoyed the song, the quiet vibe in the staff room had me mumbling out a breathy, “Oh, that’s nice,” as the door closed behind me.

Once I stowed my water in my locker, I spared an extra second to shut my eyes and roll my neck back and forth along my shoulders, eliciting a series of pops and cracks.

The tension there had increased over the past week, and it didn’t take a genius to guess why.

Working with Ryder four nights a week was as miserable as I’d assumed.

But not for the reasons I’d expected.

He didn’t taunt or send me those patronizing glances he’d loved so much in high school and college.

He also hadn’t called me FL since that first night.

Instead, he’d let his body do the tormenting for him.

Hours of watching him work bare-chested in booty shorts without an ounce of relief was pure torture.

The CIA could get gay men all over the country to spill every secret they held by forcing them to work side by side with the half-naked Ryder and denying them any form of release.

A few nights of being that hot and bothered, and every single one would crack like a cheap mirror.

After each shift, I’d gone home, stormed into my bedroom, and had my hand down my pants within seconds, jerking with such furious strokes my dick felt raw.

Then, there was his constant offer of a blow job. At least three times a night, Ryder sidled up to me and reminded me of his proposed wager. He’d quit working at Top Shelf if I could make him come with my mouth faster than he could make me come.

I’d have taken him up on the offer if he were any other man.

As it was, I was so horny and desperate that I’d nearly caved on Saturday night just to put an end to the agony.

The only thing that got me through was knowing I had the next three nights off and could find some relief in a random stranger at a club on the other side of town.

But I hadn’t done it. I’d stayed in and touched myself alone in my room.

The music’s volume increased for a second, then decreased again, which only meant one thing—I whipped around to find Ryder standing in the doorway wearing a playful smirk.

God, I’d love to wipe that smirk off his face.

I could think of a few ways to do it too.

A good smack.

A solid punch.

A breath-stealing kiss.

Shit.

“Move,” I said as the door closed behind him. “My break is over. I gotta check on my tables.”

“They’re all still dancing. You’re fine.

” He tilted his head, staring at me with an intensity I felt in my balls, probably devising a new way to fuck up my life.

“Coupla the guys at our tables seem to have hit it off.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Makes me feel like a proud papa to know they may get each other off before the night is over.”

He laughed and pushed away from the door as I rolled my eyes. “Yes, if they hook up, they owe it all to you.”

“Damn straight. Also means we should get double the tips. Maybe triple. Facilitating orgasms deserves it. Know what I mean?” He turned his back to me as he entered the combination on his locker.

We all trusted each other with our belongings, and the staff room door had a keypad entry to keep non-employees out, but once in a while, a drunk patron managed to make their way inside.

Items had been stolen in the past, so we were careful to keep our lockers secure.

“Make sure you tell them that at night’s end. I hear demanding a bigger tip for acting like a pimp is the fastest way to get on Parker’s good side.”

Now Ryder was the one rolling his eyes. “God, it was a joke. Why you always gotta be such a stick-in-the-mud? It wouldn’t kill you to loosen up and laugh now and again.”

“I laugh plenty, and if you ever say something funny, I’ll laugh for you.”

That had Ryder snickering. “Me-ow. Claws are coming out, I see. I know just the thing to lighten you up.” He grabbed his water bottle and then arched one eyebrow my way as he uncapped it.