Hogtying the Bartender

by Charlie Richards

  Vance moaned into Jimmy’s mouth, who responded by humming and doubling his efforts.

  With his erection already perky due to sucking Jimmy’s cock and drinking his seed, the feel of his lover’s hands on him quickly sent him flying over the edge. Vance didn’t even try to stop it. He jolted as his orgasm swamped his system, making his senses sing, and his mind float on blissful waves.

  All the while, Jimmy continued to finger his dick, extending his pleasure.

  Turning his head, Vance broke the kiss. He panted harshly as he dropped his head to Jimmy’s shoulder. Tremors racked his body as aftershocks pinged through his system.

  “H-Holy shit,” Vance whimpered. “Wow.”

  Hearing the man hum, Vance tipped his head back so he could look him in the eye. He spotted the smug grin on Jimmy’s face, and he couldn’t help but grin back. Jimmy lifted his head and pecked a kiss to Vance’s lips.

  “So,” Jimmy murmured. “Good morning?”

  Vance chuckled roughly. “Very good morning.”

  After almost an hour of lounging and talking in bed followed by a shared shower—something Vance had never done before but definitely enjoyed—and not just because they’d washed, jacked each other off, then washed again—they finally made it to the kitchen.

  Vance began pulling out pans to start breakfast, but Jimmy immediately took them away and shooed him out, telling him to sit in the dining room. Laughing, he held up his hands and retreated. A few seconds after he’d settled in a chair, Jimmy appeared with a cup of hot coffee, compliments of his automatic coffee maker. Unable to help but take advantage of a quiet morning where he didn’t have to cook, Vance waited and watched.

  Before too long, Jimmy set a plate heaped with bacon, scrambled eggs, and crispy hash browns before him. He put another plate nearby that contained toast. A jar of blueberry preserves from the refrigerator followed that. He also placed a prescription bottle of painkillers next to his plate along with a glass of juice.

  Then Jimmy joined him with his own plate of food and coffee.

  “Thank you so much,” Vance murmured, impressed and grateful beyond belief. He grabbed the prescription bottle and began to attempt to open it.

  Before he could struggle for more than a few seconds, Jimmy grabbed it and opened it. “How many?”

  “Two. It’s just extra strength ibuprofen.” Seeing Jimmy’s surprised look, Vance shrugged. “Don’t want to take anything that’ll mix badly with alcohol.” Feeling his cheeks heat, he added, “And I’m not actually a fan of taking anything that will befuddle my mind.”

  Jimmy handed over two pills before closing the bottle. “Befuddle?”

  Vance heard the teasing in his tone, but he ignored it. Instead, he popped the pills into his mouth. Then he grabbed the glass of cranberry juice and took several swallows.

  The food was amazing—probably made better by the fact that he hadn’t had to make it. Other than restaurants and barbeques, Vance couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked for him... just for him. He loved the novelty.

  After helping Jimmy clean the kitchen—yep, his lover had a bit of a neat streak in him—they dressed and, with fresh coffees in hand, headed outside. By that time it was nearly eleven o’clock, and the farm was in full swing. Vance shared more about the pig farm, amazed that Jimmy found it so fascinating.

  As they relaxed on the porch’s rocking chairs and drank their coffee, Brand joined them. Vance’s friend headed inside and grabbed a mug of coffee for himself, then refilled both Vance’s and Jimmy’s. Leaning on the railing, Brand joined them in chatting about the place and laughing over bar stories that Jimmy shared.

  Just as Brand pushed away from the railing, his goodbye clear as day in his eyes, a car Vance recognized drove down the driveway.

  “Oh fuck. What is she doing here?”

  “Hey, isn’t that Mark in the passenger seat?” Brand asked softly, glancing at him in concern. “Were you expecting them?”

  “No.”

  Jimmy glanced between them and the car. “Expecting who?” He reached over and touched Vance’s arm, clearly concerned.

  Tensing, Vance rose, pulling away. He spotted the flash of confusion in Jimmy’s eyes but couldn’t find the words to address it. There just wasn’t time. It also reminded him that there were still a few things they hadn’t discussed—namely the fact that he’d already put in a call to a lawyer in preparation for Darlene’s shenanigans when Vance finally shared that Jimmy was his lover. Vance felt certain it would be needed.

  Damn! I need to fix that.

  At that moment, Darlene stepped out of her car. Her shrewd gaze swept over the group on the porch, her narrowed eyes calculating. From the passenger seat swung Mark, a bored scowl creasing his features.

  “Darlene, what are you doing here?” Vance asked, his voice gruff to hide his irritation and unease. Swallowing hard, he quickly shifted his tone and forced a smile as he peered at Mark. “Hi, Mark. What’s up, buddy?”

  Mark rolled a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Nothin’,” he muttered. Then he grabbed a backpack out of the back of the car, slammed the door shut, and trooped into the cabin.

  Confused, Vance turned his attention back to Darlene. “What’s going on?”

  “I told you I had the out of town conference this weekend. I’ll pick Mark up on Tuesday.” Darlene grabbed the door as if ready to get back into the car. Then she paused and curved her lips into a calculated smile. “Who’s your friend, Vance?”

  Feeling as if he were caught in the cross-hairs of a rampaging boar, Vance panicked. “This is Jim.” He couldn’t even glance the man’s way. “He came out for a riding lesson.”

  “Oh?” One of Darlene’s carefully sculpted brows lifted in question. “Laramie’s pig pen offers riding lessons now?”

  Gulping, Vance struggled to come up with an answer. “Favor for the boss.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back.

  Five minutes later, watching the taillights of Jimmy’s sedan disappearing into the distance, Vance knew he’d completely fucked up.

  “I think I need a time machine,” Vance mumbled, an ache filling his chest.

  Brand patted his shoulder. “Yep... or a helluva lotta roses.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You know, it’s not good for you to grind your teeth.”

  Snapping his attention away from where he was scrubbing his rag over a cherry stain on the bar, Jimmy peered to the right. He noticed the dimples caused by the customer’s kind smile, then spotted the laugh lines around his dark eyes. Leaving the damp cloth where it was, he straightened and turned toward the man.

  “Hey. What can I get ya?” Jimmy tried to put a friendly note in his tone, but he wasn’t certain he pulled it off.

  “How about we start with a Heineken,” the man replied. “And we’ll go from there.”

  Jimmy nodded. “Coming right up.”

  Turning, Jimmy grabbed the requested beer from the fridge and opened it. He placed a coaster on the bar, the beer bottle on top of it, then pushed it toward the man.

  Before Jimmy could turn away, the man asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, why was such a nice-looking fellow such as yourself gritting your teeth?” He leaned forward on the bar, staring intently with a smile curving his wide lips. “Drop a glass, and it broke? Spotted a fly at the bottom of a glass and you had to re-pour a drink?” Grinning widely, he showed off even white teeth. “Wait. I know. You got a paper cut from these cork coasters.”

  Unable to help himself, Jimmy found himself chuckling.

  “Aahhh, there’s a real smile.” The friendly man waggled his brows. “I’m a lawyer. I can always tell the difference between a fake smile and a real one.”

  Jimmy suddenly realized that he was being flirted with... heavily. Opening his mouth, he prepared to tell him that he was flattered but unavailable. Then he snapped his mouth shut, remembering yesterday morning... and more sp
ecifically, the way Vance had brushed aside his presence.

  Vance hadn’t even been willing to admit that they were friends.

  Jimmy hadn’t expected Vance to introduce him as a boyfriend or lover. He knew the man still needed time. Vance hadn’t even done that, however.

  Instead, Jimmy had been relegated to the friend of the boss.

  How rude was that?

  “Oh, wow,” the customer said, drawing Jimmy’s attention back to him. “I know that look. I’ve worn it a time or two.” His expression had gone from flirty to commiserating. “Man troubles. Got dumped in a rude way?”

  Jimmy sighed. “Something like that.”

  “Can I take total advantage of the situation?” He held out his hand. “I’m Taggart. And I would love to take you to dinner.”

  Shocked at Taggart’s forwardness, Jimmy accepted the man’s hand on autopilot. “Jimmy.”

  Taggart’s hand was large and warm, and his handshake was gentle. “Now that we’re acquainted, will you give me an answer?” Winking, Taggart added, “I promise I won’t bore you with casework.”

  Jimmy hesitated. “Um, yeah. Okay.” Vance and I aren’t even friends, right? “But I wouldn’t be able to do dinner until Tuesday. That’s my day off.” He spread his arms and indicated the bar. “Otherwise, during dinner hours, I’m right here.”

  “Ahhh,” Taggart mused. “Well, I admit I don’t like waiting for things.” His tone turned husky. “When I see something I want, I like to go after it right away.”

  “Oh really?” Jimmy cocked his head. “And how does that usually work out for you?”

  Taggart chuckled, his eyes glittering in the club lighting. “Nine times out of ten, excellent. So how about lunch tomorrow, instead?” Glancing around the club, he seemed to take in the space as well as the crowds of dancing bodies. Then he refocused on Jimmy. “I understand this place doesn’t close until two in the morning on the weekdays. Do you work until closing?”

  Finding he was enjoying Taggart’s banter, Jimmy nodded. “Afraid so, Taggart. I always take the night shift,” he replied, shrugging as he peered at him through his lashes. “Good thing I’m a night owl, huh?”

  “Well, we can work around that,” Taggart replied, wrapping his hand around his beer. “Will you be up and moving by around noon? That’d probably be breakfast for you, right? How about a place that serves breakfast all day along with lunch items?” Taggart leaned close, and his tone turned husky. “That way we both can get what we want.”

  Jimmy’s brows shot up. The man was right. He definitely went for what he wanted. His tone practically dripped sexual innuendo.

  And he’s willing to be seen eating with me in public. That’s not something Vance has been willing to do. He hasn’t even seen me away from the farm or here.

  The flush of bitterness coursing through Jimmy surprised him. He hadn’t even realized that had been bothering him.

  Nodding, Jimmy told him, “Yeah. I know a place if you don’t mind nothing fancy.”

  “To get time with you, I’d agree to a dive bar.”

  Jimmy chuckled, shaking his head. “Laying it on pretty thick, Taggart. You’re not a psycho stalker closet case, are you?”

  Taggart tipped his head back and laughed heartily. The move drew the attention of a number of men in the area. Jimmy didn’t miss the appreciative looks many guys cast Taggart’s way, but Taggart seemed to, since his focus was solely on Jimmy.

  It was flattering, stroking Jimmy’s bruised ego.

  After a few more seconds, Taggart answered. “No, not a psycho stalker. I know how to accept no,” he assured, grinning. “And not a closet case. I’m out. I don’t broadcast, but I don’t hide my interests either.”

  Good enough.

  “Meet me at a restaurant called Muldoons at one tomorrow afternoon.” Remembering that Taggart had said he was a lawyer, Jimmy added, “Can you get away at that time for an hour on a Friday?”

  Taggart nodded. “Certainly. And I hope it’ll be for more than an hour.”

  “Jimmy,” Clayton called. “You got a sec?”

  Realizing he’d been standing around talking to Taggart for far too long, Jimmy glanced around and spotted several waiting customers. “Sorry, Clayton,” he replied, getting himself moving. He waved at Taggart. “See you tomorrow.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  After offering another smile, Jimmy got back to work. When he looked back toward Taggart, the man had already slipped away from the bar. To Jimmy’s annoyance, within minutes, the guilt set in.

  Is this considered cheating? Lunch with someone?

  While he and Vance hadn’t defined the parameters of their relationship, they had enjoyed a couple of meals together. They’d spent time together that didn’t include sex. Memories flooded him—the amazing food Vance had provided, the time he’d taken to share his life with him, the phone calls, not to mention the care he’d taken to fulfill one of Jimmy’s childhood dreams.

  As Jimmy poured a draft beer for a customer, he mentally cussed himself out. Shit! Having lunch with Taggart would definitely be stepping over the line.

  “Hey, are you all right, man?” Clayton asked as he stopped next to Jimmy beside the draft handles. His dark eyes held an unexpected hint of concern when he glanced Jimmy’s way before grabbing a handle and beginning to pour the drink. “You’ve been really preoccupied all evening.”

  Jimmy shrugged one shoulder. “Man troubles.”

  “Aaahhh.” Clayton offered a commiserating smile. “That’s the trouble with trying to settle down.” He released the handle, then clamped his meaty fingers onto Jimmy’s shoulder and squeezed with surprising gentleness for a man his size. “The possibility for heartache.”

  “You got that right,” Jimmy muttered.

  “Chin up.” Clayton released him, only to chuck him lightly under his chin as if he were demonstrating by action. “I hear the right one will be worth it in the end.”

  Then Clayton turned and headed off to deliver his drink.

  Jimmy stared after him for a few seconds, then got his head out of his ass and did the same, getting back to work. He kept a sharp eye out, and when he spotted Taggart come back for a refill, Jimmy approached him. Evidently, his trepidation must have shown on his face.

  “Uh oh.” While Taggart’s expression held a hint of knowing disappointment, he still sported a small smile. “You’re about to cancel. Aren’t you?”

  Holding up one finger, Jimmy grabbed a Heineken, opened it, then handed it to Taggart. “If you’re willing to wait just a minute while I catch up with some other customers, I’ll come back and tell you why.”

  Taggart nodded, then leaned against the bar and took a sip of his brew.

  Jimmy returned his focus to the rest of the customers, filling orders as swiftly as possible. After a couple of minutes, he was caught up. To his relief, Jimmy saw that Taggart still waited.

  Returning to the man, Jimmy offered a rueful smile. “So, I want to apologize. I’m not trying to be an ass, and I didn’t mean to lead you on.” He rubbed his temple, struggling for words. “He didn’t actually dump me in a rude way. He—”

  When Jimmy didn’t continue, Taggart guessed, “He did something rude or inconsiderate, and I happened to catch you while you were angry.”

  Jimmy nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  Taggart shrugged. “It happens. If you still want to have lunch, I’d be happy to lend an ear.”

  Confused as to why Taggart would offer, Jimmy commented warily, “Well, no offense, but I have friends who’ll lend an ear.”

  “Ah, but will they give you an impartial opinion? Even if it’s one you don’t want to hear?” Taggart lifted one dark brow. “Or will they just take your side?”

  Realizing what Taggart was offering, Jimmy nodded slowly. “I see what you’re saying.” Meeting Taggart’s gaze, he added, “Not a date, but as a couple of friends?”

  Taggart nodded. “Yes.” H
is eyes appeared to twinkle. “And maybe if you get to know me, you can tell me if you have any single friends that might like me.”

  Jimmy laughed, his guilt and unease sliding away. “Sounds like a plan.” When Taggart tried to hand him some cash, he waved it away. “On me, for being such a stand-up guy.”

  For a second, Taggart looked as if he would refuse, then he grinned broadly and nodded. “Thanks,” he said simply, tucking his money away. After lifting his beer in salute, he headed away calling, “See you tomorrow.”

  Getting back to work, Jimmy found himself filled with a different kind of butterflies. He was pretty sure he’d just made a new friend.

  Jimmy pulled his phone out of his pocket. Viewing the screen, he grimaced. It was Vance... again. The man had called once Wednesday afternoon, three times yesterday, and this was the second time today.

  Late that morning, Jimmy had woken to a knock on his door. He’d rolled out of bed, pulled on his bathrobe, and shuffled to the door. To his eternal shock, Jimmy found a deliveryman at the door holding a bouquet of two dozen roses.

  After accepting them, Jimmy had set them on the table and read the card—I was a fool. Please give me a chance to make it up to you. Vance. He’d stared at them for over an hour.

  “Afternoon, Jimmy,” Taggart greeted as he slid into the booth seat across from Jimmy.

  Pulling his gaze away from his phone, Jimmy forced a smile. “Hi, Taggart.”

  In the light of day, Jimmy saw Taggart had short, dark-brown hair and vibrant green eyes. He sported full lips and laugh lines around his eyes. Taggart wore a suit, which just seemed to accentuate his tall, broad frame. If Jimmy had to guess, he would peg Taggart in the thirty-five to forty range.

  If Jimmy hadn’t been so tied up in knots about Vance, he would have totally been smitten by Taggart.