Page 28 of Shaken and Stirred (Bottle Service Boys #1)

ALEX

This was a terrible idea. The bet concluded. We blew each other, Ryder lost, and I told him he didn’t have to quit.

That should have been the end, but then he had to go and get all chatty on me. Now I knew things about him. Things others didn’t know. Things that made him human and likable. It was one thing for him to be so hot when I hated him. Hot and likable spelled trouble.

And trouble had found me. My dick, in particular, wouldn’t let me walk away, no matter how advisable.

He pressed the heel of his hand against my aching erection with the perfect amount of pressure to make me needy as hell.

I loved giving head, and sucking Ryder was no exception.

It had gotten me hard and ready to fuck.

I’d resigned myself to going home and rubbing one out the way he’d done at Parker’s, but the offer of another man’s hand was too good to pass up.

“Demanding,” Ryder said with a smirk as he slid his hand into my sweats’ waistband. The second his hand wrapped around me, he barked out a laugh that eclipsed my groan. His hand was warm, strong, and surprisingly rough, considering where he came from.

“Commando, huh?” he asked as he stroked me. The little shit had to be loving throwing that back in my face.

I smirked. A flush of heat worked its way up my torso. Already, after one dry stroke, my knees were wobbling, and my balls were heavy. “After being in those tight-ass shorts for hours, I need the freedom.”

He tilted his head back, laughing at how I parroted what he’d said to me.

“Who knew fucking around with you would be so much fun?”

“It’d be more fun if you weren’t dry rubbing my dick,” I said with a grunt as the friction closed in on sandpaper rough.

“Like I said…. demanding.” He withdrew his hand and the loss had me immediately scowling, which only made him chuckle.

“Of course, I think this is one demand I can happily carry out.” He licked the flat of his palm with a long, slow, seductive slide of his tongue while locking eyes with me, and my damn dick felt it through the ether.

“Hmm, not wet enough.” He worked his jaw, then spit in his palm.

“Shit,” I panted as he returned his hand to my cock and resumed stroking with his spit easing the glide. “You’re filthy.”

“You have no idea,” he whispered against my ear as he increased the pressure on my cock. “We’ve only scratched the surface.”

So far.

The unspoken words reverberated through my lust-soaked brain. Was he thinking of them, too, or was I so desperate to come that I imagined this wouldn’t be the last time? It didn’t matter. All I could think of was more, more, more.

And Ryder delivered.

He jacked me with a firm, skilled hand that had my eyes crossing and my cock leaking precum. Though better than nothing, spit was a far cry from lube. Ryder swept his thumb across my slit, gathering the fluid and slicking the way for his large hand.

He kept his gaze on my face, watching my reaction as he stroked me. The smug, self-satisfied tilt to his lips told me he knew exactly how much I liked his handiwork.

So I didn’t bother to hide it.

“Jesus, Ryder,” I said, breathless, as I grabbed for his hips to steady myself.

“You got a really nice dick, Alex,” he said as he tightened his grip. “Wanted to tell you last time, but well… you know.”

I could only grunt in response. My energy was focused on not coming too soon so I could prolong the incredible pressure of his hand coasting up and down my shaft.

“Fills my whole hand real well. Filled my mouth too.”

It did. I wasn’t small, and neither were his hands. The memory of him on his knees brought me closer to the edge.

He leaned in and spoke against my ear again as his free hand cupped my balls. “Bet it would fill my ass perfectly. Stretch me so well. Right to the edge of pain. Mmm… it would be so fucking hot.”

My hips bucked, and I gasped as his hot breath hit my ear the same time he tugged my balls and squeezed my dick.

Was he telling me he wanted me to fuck him? Is that what those dirty words meant? That he wanted my dick fucking his ass.

His hand sped, sliding along my dick with sure, fast strokes. I couldn’t keep my hips still any longer. I fucked into the circle of his grip as I clung to his sides and moaned like a damn whore right there in my place of employment.

“That’s it, Alex. Fuck my fist like you’d fuck my ass.”

The image of him bent over and writhing in ecstasy as he took my cock in his tight hole bombarded my brain. I planted my head against his chest and cried out as pleasure blasted through me, so sharp and intense my vision blurred.

“Oh shit,” I shouted as my body jerked, and I flooded Ryder’s hand with my release. He rubbed me through the orgasm, making a damn mess in my sweats, but I didn’t care. I sighed and let the pleasure twitch through me until I finally came down from the high.

Eventually, I uncurled my fingers from Ryder’s sides and straightened away from him. After one final caress, he withdrew his spunk-covered hand.

“Seems we made a bit of a mess of your sweatpants,” he said with that smug grin I was beginning to hate less than I had days ago, especially after coming so hard.

I snorted and ran a hand through my hair. “Yeah. Gonna be a fun ride home.”

“I’d say I’m sorry, but…” He shrugged and smirked.

“Worth it.” I adjusted my sticky sweats with a slight cringe. Yeah, this would be freezing cold and gross by the time I made it home, but what was a little discomfort compared to a stellar orgasm?

“Hmm.” Ryder met my gaze and lifted his hand to his lips.

He ran his tongue between his fingers and over his palm, cleaning the evidence of how much I’d liked his hands on me.

“Tastes just as good the second time around. Glad my memory didn’t deceive me.

” He winked, and it was so confident and cocky that my spent cock twitched as though it had a prayer of rallying this soon.

How was it possible that something that infuriated me days ago thrilled me today?

“Um…” I cleared my throat. “Seems like you’re feeling better.”

Ryder threw his head back and laughed. The sound echoed through the empty club, filling the desolate space with a sense of happiness.

“Yeah.” His grin stretched wide across that gorgeous face of his.

“I think it’s safe to say my night ended much better than it started.

So, thank you.” His voice lost any playful inflection. “For real, Alex… thank you.”

Conceited Ryder, I knew and could handle. Apparently, I had a pretty good grip on sexy Ryder as well. Tonight proved I could manage my way around Ryder when he needed to vent, but this version of Ryder? This genuine nice-guy routine where he thanked me with sincerity?

I had no idea how to handle that. It made this thing we were doing too real when it should have been nothing more than a bet.

“No problem,” I said with a shrug. “What are coworkers for if not to help when your personal shit is affecting your job?”

His frown almost made me cringe, or maybe it was my awkward attempt at lightening the conversation, but I held it back.

“Right,” he said, then turned and grabbed his coat. “Guess we should get the hell out of here before our next shift starts.”

I snorted a half-laugh. “Yeah. Good idea.”

We grabbed our belongings and exited the club in silence. I’d expected him to go straight to his fancy car, but instead, he hovered near the employee entrance with me while I locked the final door.

You don’t have to wait.

The words dangled from the tip of my tongue, but I pressed my lips together and kept them inside because, well, I liked having him there with me.

This wasn’t the first or even the fifth time I’d closed for Parker—each time, I’d been alone.

While the task was quick and easy, I hated being the last one to leave.

If something happened, no one would know.

“Good to go,” I said as I armed the alarm. “Thanks for waiting. You didn’t have to do that.”

Ryder merely gave me a droll look that conveyed how stupid he found the statement, which did not warm my insides at all. Nope, not a single bit. Because we weren’t friends. Hell, I didn’t even like the man. He’d been an ass to me at camp.

Eight years ago…

Maybe, but he still took pleasure in annoying the hell out of me. Who wanted that in their lives?

He also takes pleasure in pleasuring you.

Jesus, my inner voice needed to be stomped out.

“Well, guess I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

God, I was so awkward. Sometimes, I wondered how I ever made a single dollar in tips working my VIP tables.

Ryder half-snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I’ll be here.” He touched my shoulder, and I refused to believe the tingles came from anything more than surprise. “Thanks again, Alex.”

“Sure, no problem.”

No problem? Of course, it wasn’t a damn problem. We both came. God, I was such an idiot.

Our cars were separated by about five spaces. The distance between us increased as we made our way to our vehicles. Thankfully, we didn’t get any snow or ice tonight, so the drive home at the late hour should be uneventful.

“Night, Alex,” Ryder called as he reached his electric Range Rover.

I almost laughed at the difference in our cars.

His shiny and black without a smudge on it, where my old rust bucket was covered in a salt film from driving to and from work all winter.

Paying for a car wash was a luxury I couldn’t afford.

I should have waved over my shoulder and slipped into my car, but instead, I turned and met his gaze. We stared at each other across the quiet parking lot for a beat while I had the ridiculous urge to ask him to text me when he got home safe so I wouldn’t worry.

Thank God I had the presence of mind to keep that thought where it belonged—in my head and not out in the universe.

“Night,” I called back. “See ya tomorrow.”

He dipped into his luxury vehicle and started it up without a sound.

I’d bet my tips that the interior was warm and toasty within five seconds.

That fancy car probably had heated leather seats and steering wheel, whereas I’d spend the next ten minutes begging my hunk of junk to start.

If it did, the car would finally warm to a comfortable temperature about the time I pulled into my driveway.

I followed him out of the parking lot, turning left where he turned right. If there was ever a sign we lived in different worlds, that proved it. Luxury vehicle aside, he’d turned toward the rich side of town, whereas I’d steered my car toward the rundown, neglected neighborhoods.

For a short time tonight, I’d forgotten our differences. Sex had put us on a level playing field, but now, freezing my ass off while he was toasty warm, I remembered we weren’t the same. We weren’t even friends.

As predicted, I arrived home as soon as my car finally hit a cozy temperature.

My comfort lasted for less than a minute, disappearing when I opened the car door.

When I glanced at the quiet house lit only by the porch and foyer lights, my stomach cramped.

Was Kenny home? Was Mom asleep in her bed, or would she be dozing on the couch as she stressed about him?

I didn’t have the reserves to go out looking for him tonight—this morning—or even wait up until he arrived home.

My boots crunched over a thin layer of snow I’d have to shovel in the morning, and a wave of fatigue crashed over me.

Was it too much to ask that Kenny pull his head out of his ass to do one damn chore without me having to badger him?

It had snowed ten hours ago, for crying out loud.

Mom couldn’t help take care of the house, but even she managed to do more than my lazy-as-fuck brother.

Silence greeted me when I stepped into the foyer.

No strung-out brother or naked women I didn’t know on the couch, and no drug paraphernalia littering the coffee table.

My stomach sank. When did finding my brother high off his ass with a random girl become the desirable choice?

At least it meant I knew where he was and wouldn’t have to worry I’d get a phone call from the cops or, worse, the morgue.

With a heavy sigh that made me feel twice my age, I wiped my boots and then kicked them off next to the door. I removed my jacket, hanging it on the row of hooks I’d installed a few years ago after watching an instructional YouTube video.

Clad in my socks, I padded past the kitchen and down the carpeted hallway, peeking into the first room on the left.

My mom slept soundly on her back with her wheelchair lined up next to the bed.

Most of the time, she could transfer herself in and out of bed without assistance, but on days she felt weaker, she’d nod off in her wheelchair until I returned home to help her to bed. Today must have been a good day.

The knot in my stomach loosened as I backed out of her room and shut the door.

One family member was safe and sound. My room was next to hers, and Kenny’s was across the hall, with the lone bathroom across from Mom’s room.

Having only one bathroom made for an interesting challenge.

Mom’s equipment occupied much of the floor space and littered the counter.

Catheter equipment, a nebulizer, and a basket of medications had to be moved before I could wash my face.

I could piss through the opening in the raised commode seat but had to move it to sit.

The bench took up ninety percent of the small walk-in shower space.

Kenny and I constantly moved equipment in and out of the bathroom, depending on who needed the space.

I’d kill to add a second bathroom, preferably an en-suite for my mom’s room, but that was money we’d only have if one of us won the lottery jackpot.

Another sigh left me before I reached Kenny’s room. I’d have to be more careful with those. My mom tended to bury herself under a mountain of guilt if she thought I was overworked and stressed, which I was, but she didn’t need to know that.

My heart kicked up to a full gallop as I reached for Kenny’s door handle. It turned with ease, and I pushed the door open wide enough to peek in. Relief at finding him prone and snoring hit me so hard that I almost collapsed to my knees.

Thank God.

I could get myself ready for bed, sleep a whole five hours, and make it to my nine-thirty class by the skin of my teeth.

But as was typical with solid plans, the universe decided my time would be better spent staring at my ceiling for the next two hours, wondering how awkward it would be the next time I saw Ryder.