Part 2 (1/2)
”And we have to play fair.”
”f.u.c.kWimbledon rules,” Alex said. Catching Dylan by the back of his large head and threading his fingers through the man's tumbling curls, he pulled the bartender down for another kiss. Dylan made a surprised noise against his mouth, but Alex was nothing if not persistent. He c.o.c.ked his head at an angle that invited invasion of his mouth, and Dylan surely didn't say no.
The tables turned with delicious ease. Even though Alex held Dylan, Dylan was definitely the one in charge as their mouths remained fused together. He nibbled at Alex's lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, nipping, and then soothing the sting with his tongue. Alex reveled in the touch, wanting to roll and rumble like a satisfied cat. He'd wondered what it would take for the big man to lose his control.
Looked like he was on the right track to finding out.
Dylan released him with a final suckle on Alex's upper lip. ”You know,” he said outright, ”I'm going to be in all kinds of trouble for this. Management doesn't really go for their employees fraternizing with the customers.”
”d.a.m.n right!” one patron called out. Others whooped, whistled, and catcalled.
”Hey!” shouted the big bruiser who had allowed Alex to cut the line into the bar. ”You forget all about me?”
Alex pivoted to wink at his would-be suitor, who was more than a little p.i.s.sed.Ooh, better mend this bridge before I jump off it . ”Another time, big guy, another time,” he said blithely over the man's protests. ”Now, now, none of that. You just keep me in mind. Okay,” he said, looking back at Dylan, ”what about this fraternization? Isn't a good bartender supposed to laugh, dance, and put on a show while he's pouring out the drinks?” Alex said suggestively. ”What's wrong with a little improvisation?”
”Even a sweet temptation like you isn't enough for me to risk getting fired. Working for Amour Magique is the sweetest gig I've had in over a decade, and I'm not taking any chances.”
”I'll just have to work harder on making you want to take a chance.” ”Shut up, and drink your boilermaker. I do have other customers waiting on me.”
”Think they enjoyed the free show?”
”In Amour Magique? I know they did.” Dylan pressed his finger to Alex's lips. ”Think you can keep those pretty lips shut while I do my job?”
More encouragement from their very own peanut gallery egged the showman in Alex on. Alex threw them a wink, then turned back to the long, tall draft of bartender he was putting his stamp of owners.h.i.+p on. He nipped at the man's finger. It tasted of lemons and margarita salt. Not a bad combination, all things considered.
Dylan jerked his hand back, swearing with a laugh. ”Lesson learned. Never underestimate you. Just sit here and behave until I come back.”
”You will come back.” Alex made it a statement, not a question.
”Of course I will. You're a bona fide customer, aren't you? Doesn't matter if your own bill is marked 'Paid in Full' regardless of how much you drink. I'm still here to serve.” Dylan tugged at a lock of Alex's hair, flashed him a dazzling grin, and headed off to the far end of the bar where men were squeezed against one another, eager for another drink.
Alex watched Dylan go with a mental growl of satisfaction. He could feel his inner s.e.x kitten sharpening its claws against the other man's long, strong legs that were topped by the most perfect, rounded a.s.s cheeks he'd seen in years. He really hated to see the man leave but, ooh, how he loved to watch him move.
The sports coverage on that big-screen TV couldn't compare with Dylan. Alex focused wholly on the bartender, watching him in action. Dylan was a one-man band, the way he worked. Seemingly without effort, he pulled taps and took bills, keeping track of everyone from what they wanted to what they owed. The muscles in Dylan's back played visibly even under his white s.h.i.+rt, making Alex want to trace them with his fingers one by one.
Preferably while naked, from a position beneath the man ...
Oh, yes, he was the one Alex planned on going home with. His place or Dylan's, he didn't care. But if he had his way -- and he almost always did -- there would be a bartender in bed with him that night.
Guess he had to hand it to Liam, after all; the gently crazy little queer had done Alex a favor by pus.h.i.+ng him out of the nest. Not that he'd have minded staying there and playing a few more games, but he'd gone, and look where he'd ended up.
Yum.
With the crush finally thinned out to a handful of contented drinkers, Dylan ambled back down the length of the bar toward Alex. He shook his head as he approached. ”You do know you're irresistible, don't you?”
”I try my hardest.” ”You could have any man in this room, but you pounce on me like I'm Tweety Bird and you're Sylvester,” Dylan teased.
”Not exactly. Sylvester never failed to lose the prize.” Alex lowered his eyelids. ”I always win.”
”You're that sure of yourself?”
”I'm sure of you.” Alex inched closer, undid another b.u.t.ton on his own s.h.i.+rt, creating just enough of a gap for the edge of one flat nipple to peek out. To his pleasure, Dylan's eyes were drawn right to the spot, as if there were an ”X” marking his chest.
A muscle jumped in the man's jaw. ”So you've seen me in action. You know what I do. Let's talk about you.”
”Little ol' me?”
”I thought you said not to call you little.”
”Big ol' me?”
”That's more like the man I'm getting to know and appreciate. Spill. What keeps a man like you in fine clothes and good whiskey? I have a feeling we're going to becomereally well acquainted, and I'd like a little more information about you than your name.”
Alex quirked an eyebrow.
”So I'm old-fas.h.i.+oned.” Dylan settled in, crossing his arms. ”We'll start simple. What do you do for a living?”
”Oh, you don't really want to hear about ...”
”Hey, fair is fair.” Dylan reached for one of Alex's hands and turned it over in his own. Alex made a small noise of pleasure at the feel of those working man's calluses against his skin. ”Soft and white.
You're not the blue-collar type, I take it.”
”I like any kind of collar, blue or white. And I do work with my hands.” Alex rolled his eyes. ”Laugh if you will, but these days I'm a valet.”
Dylan gave him a disbelieving stare. Then he cracked up.
”Choosing a man's socks is no small task, especially when they cost more than I make in a week,and they have to match his tailored suit justso .”
”It must be drudgery.”
”Sweetheart, if you think a drunk can be obnoxious, you've never seen a fat cat who's just discovered you laid out the wrong tie.”
”I like that,” Dylan said, momentarily confusing Alex.
”Like what?” ”You calling me 'sweetheart.' It's nice. Makes me think there's actually something going thump-thump underneath all that spun s.e.x on a stick.”
”Flattery will get you everywhere.”
”Anywhere?”
”Wherever you like. In a bed, up against a wall, in an alley, behind the bar ...” Alex teased with an arch look.
”That's a pretty tempting offer you're laying out on the table. But what about me? You seem to think we've got a done deal. I don't get a say in this?”
”Oh, you can talk all you want. I'd rather have you screaming my name, though.”