“Hey, Keith. Long time, no see.” They shook.
Well, at least I already have his name.
“Hey, Marvin.”
“Didn’t know you were going to be here this weekend. This your new boy?” the guy asked, tipping his head as he stared at Scott. “Or is he free-range fresh meat?”
Scott couldn’t help but blush under the older man’s appraising gaze.
Keith glanced over his shoulder at Scott. “Don’t go poaching one out from under me, now, Marvin. I just started talking with him.” Keith smiled at Scott, something about his expression twisting Scott’s insides in a pleasant way.
“Well,” Marvin said, smiling as he slowly walked past Scott. “If you find yourself free-ranging this weekend, feel free to stop by my room. 137. The door will be open.”
Scott dropped his gaze and realized he’d focused on Keith’s back, the way his spine disappeared into the waistband of his shorts with a muscled dip above his hips.
Yum.
His mouth went dry, and he found himself sucking on his straw as he followed Keith over to the bar, where they grabbed barstools at the far end, a little quieter there.
“I can tell this is your first time,” Keith said after catching the bartender’s attention and ordering a bottle of beer. “Serious question—I’m guessing you’re here alone. Does your wife know?”
Scott gulped and nodded. “Is it that obvious?”
“I saw the ring. If you were married to a guy, he’d likely be here with you. Add to that, when a guy runs scared from a roving pack of wild twinks, yeah, pretty much pegs you as a first-timer fresh out of the closet.” He smiled, holding out his hand. “Keith Knepp.”
Scott was relieved to be able to shake normally with him, a strong, firm, but not an assholish grip. Callused hands obviously used to working for a living.
“Scott Gilroy.” He hoped Keith didn’t think less of him for having the soft, smooth hands of an office worker. The most physically strenuous thing he did at work was juggle multiple calls if they were short-staffed. He used the county’s small gym at the building several times a week, in addition to yard work at home, to stay in some semblance of shape.
This guy had the real, firm body of a man used to physical labor. Not to mention the tan lines where it was obvious he usually wore a short-sleeved shirt all the time.
* * * *
It was only sheer chance that Keith had almost literally run into Scott. He usually didn’t hit the tiki bar, but thought he’d cruise through it first tonight, before the twinks took it over and he’d have to peel them off him. He wasn’t looking for a tight bubble ass to spank or fuck, or some kid in the market for a sugar daddy.
When he’d spotted Scott at the end of the bar, the deer-in-the-headlights look had been unmistakable and irresistible. Not to mention Scott had blue eyes that Keith suspected would look even better when Keith had his cock down the man’s throat and the man was staring up at him as he fucked his mouth for the first time.
He had accurately pegged Scott as a first-timer. Yes, Keith was looking for more than a quick fuck, and a married guy likely took success in that area out of the equation.
He also wasn’t stupid and didn’t want to turn down a chance to pop the guy’s cherry, so to speak.
But what he learned startled him in a pleasant way.
“It’s a long story, and I’m not sure how much of it you care to hear,” Scott said.
“All of it, from the beginning, is good for me.”
Ten minutes later, Keith realized this had the potential to be a lot more than just a quick weekend thing, or even a series of planned rendezvous.
That the guy’s wife was willing to let Scott off the chain—if Scott was telling the truth, which the man’s body language indicated he was—and that he was from Sarasota were two points in his favor.
“She sounds like an amazing woman,” Keith said.
“She is.” Scott looked down into his glass, a fresh rum and Coke. “I got to the point where I felt guilty for how hard she was trying. I want her to be able to have a good life. She’s only doing the BDSM stuff for me.”
Keith took a risk and leaned in, resting a hand on Scott’s thigh. “You’re telling me you’ve never actually been with a guy before?”
Fuck. Me.
Scott shook his head. “I’ve gone out a couple of times with some guys, but nothing happened. I didn’t want a quick fuck.”
“Then why are you here this weekend?”
“I need to figure out what’s going on inside my head. I owe her that much.”
“So you’re a bottom?”
Scott nodded.
“A virgin bottom, literally?”
Scott nodded again.
Keith sat back and smiled. “Then why don’t we go have a bite to eat in the restaurant and talk a little more? If you’d like that.”
Scott nodded, eagerly.
“Let’s go back up to my room for a minute,” Keith said. “I need to grab a shirt. They’re sort of lax around here, but in the restaurant they insist on shirts and shoes.”
“What about pants?”
Keith grinned. “Define pants.”
“Ah.”
They left the bar area, Scott following Keith around and up the stairs. Keith was swiping his key card when Scott let out a soft swear and pushed his way into the room past Keith, pulling Keith in after him and shoving the door shut.
“Whoa, slow down, buddy,” Keith said, his motor already revving. “I’m driving.”
“No,” Scott whispered. “That’s a guy I work with!”
Keith peeked out the window, around the curtain. “Who, the redhead?”
“Yeah. Bill Terrell. He’s not in my department, but he works on my floor. I see him all the time. Shit! I didn’t even know he was gay! I thought he was married.”
“Yeah, well, you might not be wrong on either count. I don’t see a ring on his hand. It looks like he’s settled into a good conversation with the guy next door, just outside the room.” He let the curtain drop back and reached over to turn the lights on. “Guess we’re in here for a while. I’ll get my shirt.”
Scott dropped onto the end of the bed. “I am so out of my damn element. Why did I ever think I was going to be able to do this?”
“Hold on,” Keith said, walking back to stand in front of him. “What you do or don’t do here this weekend isn’t anyone’s business. I’m sure he probably wasn’t expecting to run into anyone he knows from work, either.”
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t help me. I didn’t think I’d meet anyone I know here.”
The plaintive look on Scott’s face was turning Keith’s crank, even though he knew the man was feeling more than a little bit of emotional distress.
He suspected it would resemble the look on the man’s face when he had a butt plug up his ass and was cuffed and collared, naked, on his knees, and looking up at him, pleading for relief.
But it also drove home another fact. “How do I know you’re not lying to me about your wife knowing you’re here?” Keith asked.
Scott pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped it, opened his text messages, then handed it to Scott.
On the screen, an exchange between Scott and a contact labeled Noel.
The first one was from her.
Have fun, and be safe.
Are you sure you’re okay with this?
I am. I want you to be happy. Just be safe and wear a condom and text me from time to time so I know you’re okay.
Keith returned the phone to him, changing his approach a little. “I’m not looking for a quick fuck, either. And let’s cut to the chase. I’m a Dominant. A sadist. If you spend the weekend with me, you’re going to go home with marks on your ass, and elsewhere. That going to be a problem?”
Scott shook his head.