Page 47 of Dangle
I shook my head and rolled my eyes at him. “You realize you’re standing in the loft of the owners of a kink club, right?”
His smirk grew into the biggest shit-eating grin. “Yep,” he said, popping the p at the end while leering at me with his dick swinging between his thighs.
“Just making sure you were aware what sort of buttons you’re pushing.”
Darkened, pupils blown, and wide eyes did that slow slide over my body that he’d done several times since waking as he leaned back against the counter. “Oh, I’m aware. Very, very aware.” He licked his lips, then sucked in a deep breath. “So, where are they? Your friends, who own this…den of iniquity?” he asked, looking around the large open space of the loft.
“Wow. Den of iniquity? That’s…”
“The truth?”
Laughing, I shook my head. The kid was literally standing in the kitchen, lounging against the counters as if being nude was perfectly normal while helping the guy whose dick he just sucked make breakfast. I owned a kink club and had been in the Marines, and I don’t think I’d ever met anyone as comfortable in their skin as this kid.
I tossed him a loaf of bread, and he turned to the toaster, removing his dick from my periphery. I shifted my focus back to the eggs and sausage, which were done, and began plating our food. Our shoulders brushed when he dropped the buttered toast on the plates.
“Don’t forget the hot sauce.”
“You were serious about that?”
“Absolutely. Gotta have hot sauce.”
I opened the cabinet where Priest and Bauer keep their stash of hot sauce and held it up to the boy.
“Fuck, yeah. My favorite,” he cheered and fist bumped the air. “Now, tell me where your friends are hiding and if they’re going to be pissed that I ate their hot sauce.”
“They have a house they hide in whenever they can,” I said. “They keep this for late nights and friends who visit. And no, they won’t be pissed. There’s a dozen bottles of that shit in the cabinet.”
He nodded with a…what was that he did with his mouth? I kept watching. The wheels in his head turned in his eyes. Was he…
“True hot sauce connoisseurs then,” he paused, then his gaze met mine. “So the four of them are together, right? I didn’t clock that wrong, did I?” he asked.
I nodded slowly. “Does that shock you?”
He laughed. “Since I routinely fuck my roommates who are twins, nope. Not in the way you’re worried about at least. It’s hot as fuck. They’re four sexy bastards. Besides, I love knowing there are out and proud queers in the league. Makes it easier for the rest of us.”
Glad I hadn’t read him wrong, I nodded, grabbed the silverware and our plates. “Grab the drinks, would you?” I asked then headed to the living room. We could’ve eaten at the island, but I fucking hated the barstools in this loft. They hit my legs funny, making them go numb.
We sat on the sofa, so close that our knees brushed together when we angled to face each other. “I wouldn’t say that Gavin is out and proud, but he’s also not in the closet. He just lives his life. He doesn’t answer questions about his personal life, and they don’t broadcast their relationship. Nashville might beblue and queer-friendly, but Tennessee is fucking red and very homophobic.”
“Well, he might not, but there’s no fucking way Aiden’s gonna be able to follow Gavin’s lead since he and Coach sucked face at center ice after Aiden’s first NHL game.”
“No, but Asher and Bauer won’t let anything happen to him.”
He nodded, staring down at his food. The silence in the room grew thick the longer we went without speaking. Silverware hitting and scraping the ceramic plates were the only interruptions. Finally, Trey asked, “And their locker room? What’re the guys like in the room?”
“Mindset rolls down from the top. If the top sets the precedent, then the rest will follow.”
More nodding. A sniff. Then another. And if my eyes were to be believed, spiky lashes.
“Trey?”
“Hmm?”
“You good? Is the room at MU…”
He cleared his throat. “I wear the C. I don’t put up with that shit. Never have. Not on any team I’ve ever been on.”
“Good. Because if it’s not, Coach Grigor should know.”
