Page 27 of Shaken and Stirred (Bottle Service Boys #1)

“Fuck, Alex, I’m coming. Your mouth is too good.” I clutched his head in my hands as I curled over him and trembled with the force of my orgasm. He swallowed around my dick, taking every damn drop as though he couldn’t bear to waste any of my load.

So damn hot.

At some point, my hand went from gripping his hair to petting his head, and about the time I realized that, I realized the bet was over.

And I’d most certainly lost.

I released Alex and sagged back against the chair, too fucking sated to move.

He wasn’t, though. He smirked and grabbed my wrist. “Four minutes and two seconds.” He tsked. “Guess I’m the winner.”

We stared at each other. He was on his knees with swollen lips and mussed hair, and I was sprawled in the chair with my legs so wide my thighs were beginning to ache. The air thickened with a different tension than had been there moments ago.

Now what?

My heart thudded. Guess I had to hold up my end of the bet.

I cleared my throat. The words didn’t want to come out. It turned out I liked working at Top Shelf. The crew was great, welcoming and friendly, like a little family. I enjoyed working with Alex most of all. “I’ll turn in my resignation tomorrow.”

Alex stood and, without saying a word, turned his back on me, walking away.

Fantastic. I huffed a self-deprecating laugh.

“Guess that’s that,” I muttered. Forcing my sated body into action, I bent and retrieved my pants and shoes.

After slipping back into my sweats, I sat again to don my shoes.

As I tied the final sneaker, Alex approached with a glass in each hand and an obvious flagpole in his sweats.

He held out a glass with amber-brown liquid. “Thanks,” I said, though it sounded more like a question.

He sat at the table opposite me and then sipped his drink. “Don’t quit.”

My eyes widened. What was in his glass? It had to be something magical. I didn’t know how to respond, so I nodded, which seemed to be all he needed.

I sipped my drink and let the warmth of the liquid heat my insides. Ah, Macallan. The good stuff and my favorite. Had he known? I’d mentioned it a few times. Was Alex paying attention to what I said?

We sat across from each other in silence.

It had to be somewhere close to three in the morning.

At this time of night, the darkened, quiet club held a peace that was in stark contrast to the vibrant life during working hours.

As we sipped our drinks, the silence changed from awkward and tense to an almost comfortable intimacy.

Or maybe it was all in my head. Regardless, my mouth opened, and words I never thought I would confess to Alex, of all people, flowed out.

“I lied,” I said as I rotated the whiskey tumbler in my hand.

Alex frowned. “What do you mean? Lied about what?”

Shrugging, I took another sip. “I told you, I came back home because I wanted to finish my degree here. Because I liked the program here better.”

His forehead wrinkled as he absorbed my words. “Okay… and that’s not the truth?”

“It is, but it’s not the whole truth, I…” Why was it so hard to say? I was so convinced that everyone I told would have a negative reaction and would react like my father did. I blew out a shaky breath.

Alex sat there patiently, wearing a curious expression but without a hint of judgment.

I almost laughed. He probably already had such a low opinion of me that nothing I could say would drag it lower.

Fuck it.

“I changed my major. The school here in Boston has a stellar master’s program for education. One of the top in the nation.”

Alex blinked. “I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to run that by me again.”

Chuckling, I sipped my drink. “I changed my major to education. I want to teach elementary school.” That’s it. My secret was floating in the universe now as I waited for the man who’d hated me from day one to pass judgment.

“Wow, Ryder, that is…”

I snorted. “Stupid? A waste of my parents’ money? A betrayal to my namesake? Laughable?”

“Really fucking brave.”

“You think?” I whispered, hating the vulnerability in my tone. “Doesn’t feel like it. I knew since high school that I didn’t want to follow in my father’s footsteps. Took me years of a degree I won’t use to muster the courage to do something about it.”

He shrugged. “You know how many people end up doing something different than what they thought or planned at eighteen?”

I sipped my drink as I watched him swirl the liquid in his. “No. Do you?”

He snorted. “Okay, not exactly, but my point stands. We pick a major so young and expect we’re going to stick with it. There’s nothing wrong with changing your mind and nothing wrong with wanting something different as you grow and mature.” He shuddered dramatically. “Ugh, mature, what a word.”

The attempt to lighten the mood worked for a second, eliciting a small laugh from me, but I quickly fell back into a contemplative mood. “You didn’t change. You’ve known you wanted to be a robotics engineer since before I met you.”

“Yeah, well, my situation is a little different. I need a secure future for my family more than I need a career passion.”

“What do you—”

He waved the hand holding his tumbler. “We can dissect my problems another night. I take it the conversation earlier was your dad flipping out about the major change?”

Of course, I knew he’d received scholarships and financial assistance for both the summer session where we met and for college.

Hence, the whole freeloader nickname that got me on his most-hated list, but did his family’s financial situation go deeper than not being able to pay for college or pricy summer programs out of pocket?

I wanted to press, but the set of his jaw told me I’d get nowhere tonight.

Another time.

Did he mean it? Would there be other times when we hung out and talked? Touched? Got each other off?

“Ryder?”

“Uh, sorry.” I shook my head and then stared down into the still amber liquid he’d poured me. “He doesn’t even know yet. All I said this afternoon was that I wanted to discuss my future career plans. He flat-out refused to discuss it and threatened to cut me off.”

“Shit,” Alex said on an exhale. “That’s… a lot.”

I snorted, then tossed back the rest of my drink in one gulp. “Yeah.”

He still had half his drink left, which he sipped much more slowly. “Remember Andy from the summer session? The guy who had six toes on each foot.”

I chuckled. “Yeah. Though I never saw his feet, so I’m not sure he wasn’t lying.”

Shrugging, Alex grinned. The smile transformed his whole face from unapproachable to open and warm. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen that smile from him, but it had never been directed at me. Trevor, plenty of times, even Dom and Luke, but never me.

I liked it.

“No idea. Anyway, he volunteered at the LGBTQ+ youth center downtown.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right.” He’d volunteered a few nights a week, just for that one summer as far as I knew.

“Whenever I would complain about how much I hated you…” Alex said with a wry smirk that had me chuckling, “… he’d tell me you weren’t the asshole I thought you were, that you spent all your free time at the youth center, and you were fantastic with the kids.

I remember him being frustrated that he couldn’t connect with them the way you could.

Once, he told me he wished he’d had someone like you in his life when he was younger. A mentor or a teacher he could trust.”

My chest tightened as all the moisture in my mouth evaporated. I swallowed in a vain attempt to correct it. “Wow,” I croaked. “That’s… thank you for telling me that.”

Alex huffed a light laugh. “At the time, I told him he was delusional, but now…” He pushed his glass away. “Well, it sounds to me like you’re making the right choice.”

This time, his words caused a fluttering in my chest. When was the last time someone believed in a choice I’d made? Hell, I couldn’t remember ever making my own significant life choices. This was a first, and the support came from the oddest place.

But I liked it. Alex’s simple encouragement without fluff or blowing smoke up my ass finally released the sick tension living in my gut since he caught me speaking to my father.

He stood and reached for my glass. “Fuck your father. It’s your life. You gotta live it.”

I couldn’t help but stare at the way his ass moved beneath his soft sweats as he walked over to the bar. Then there were his arms beneath his T-shirt, not huge, but toned from lugging heavy bottles for hours on end. They rippled and flexed as he washed and dried the glasses.

Occasionally, his gaze would drift my way and linger for a second, crackling with heat, before he seemed to realize where his attention had settled. I felt a twinge in my gut each time he ripped his focus away.

He strode over to me once the glasses were back on the shelf, and fuck, if I could look anywhere but at the swell in his sweats. He’d sucked me off, listened to my problems, and provided advice, all without an ounce of relief for himself.

I stood and stepped in front of him before he could reach for his coat at the table, palming his hard dick through his sweats.

“Shit, Ryder,” he said as his steps faltered, and he grabbed my upper arms for support. His pupils grew three sizes. “What… ah… what are you doing?”

“Thank you,” I whispered in his ear.

For listening.

For letting me out of the bet.

For your mouth on my cock.

“Ryder… what are you doing?”

“You’re hard,” I whispered. “I can fix it. Simple as that.”

I drew back and met his searching gaze.

He seemed to war with himself, which I responded to with a firm squeeze.

His hips bucked into my hold. “Fuck it,” he said with a groan. “If you want to fix it, get your damn hand in my pants.”

Well, damn, bossy Alex had my full attention.