by Mandy Harbin
An Excerpt From: SLICK COMPETITION
Copyright © MANDY HARBIN, 2013
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Chapter One
It smelled like sex.
Sure, there was an overpowering aroma of alcohol—Mitchell was in the hottest gay bar in the French Quarter—but the scent of clean sweat mixed with cologne also held a hint of people getting busy. Definite sex smell. And that was the most erotic combination Mitchell Hill had ever brought into his senses. If he were on a different mission, he’d throw caution to the wind, grind his way out onto the dance floor and find himself a hot little ass for the night, putting the special lube in his pocket to work on something other than jacking off.
But that wasn’t why he was at Beau’s Backdoor scoping out the place, regardless of what he told himself when he grabbed his special slick. His twitching dick needed to stay down because starting tomorrow morning Mitchell would be one of Beau Broussard’s new product development specialists. He came here tonight to find out what he could about the only business his new boss owned that was actually open to the public. Not to get laid.
One thing was for sure—the nightclub owner definitely knew how to diversify his assets. He had a few different businesses all under the umbrella of his name and every one of them centered on the gay lifestyle. Mitchell was apprehensive about working for this man. Not because his niche was focused on gay sex, but because he’d come across as a cold-hearted ass on the phone. Mitchell was a planner though and moving here was the best course to take to set his financial plan into motion. He had some serious student loan debt to resolve. His new boss might be elusive, never allowing public interviews, but his name was legendary and he paid his employees well.
As Mitchell looked around, making his way to the bar, he had to fight his body’s reaction to all the hot men around him. Even though he didn’t get around much, he didn’t like denying his body’s needs where men were concerned, not since he exited the dreaded closet in his teens. But he was here on business, so he needed to play things cool and just learn. Otherwise it’d be his luck he’d come on to Mr. Broussard’s boyfriend or someone equally off-limits and lose his new job before he even started. Nope, too risky. There would be no physical pleasure for him tonight. Well, not with company he found here anyway.
“You’re new,” the hot-as-fuck bartender said as Mitchell stepped up beside a bear eyeing a cub on the other side. The older, hairy man glanced toward Mitchell before setting his predator sights on his original target.
“Uh, yeah.” Mitchell cleared his throat. “Can I get a Coors Light?”
Sexy bartender man chuckled as he wiped his hands on the towel draped over his shoulder. “Sure you don’t want an appletini? Fresh meat usually go with something a little more obvious.”
Mitchell scowled at him. Fucking prick was stereotyping him. “Just the beer.”
“Sure thing, newbie. Don’t get your panties all twisted. House special here is the Blowjob—Bailey’s and amaretto. Followed closely by the Dr. Pecker—whiskey mixed with cola and cranberry juice.”
“That just sounds disgusting,” Mitchell mumbled. Because of the loud techno music thumping through the air, he knew the bartender couldn’t hear him, but the smirk on that sexy face had Mitchell second-guessing his theory.
The bartender produced a chilled mug and dispensed the beer from the tap then slid it across the bar a few inches until it was in front of Mitchell. The guy was a natural behind there. Sexy and talented.
“Thanks.” Mitchell tipped his glass toward the hot man with spiked hair and loads of tattoos across his exposed arms, nodding once before taking a swig.
“That’s four dollars.”
Mitchell put his mug down and fished out some ones from his wallet.
“Name’s Zeke if you need anything.” The bartender took the cash and turned toward the register.
A bartender would be a good source of information, he mused. Then he shook his head. That was totally cliché. He wasn’t in some B movie or an eighties sitcom. His heart raced as uncertainty set in, and he felt out of his element all of a sudden. What the hell was he doing here? It was a bar, not a boardroom. He needed to just leave and show up at the office next door in the morning. He honestly didn’t know what he’d expected to find out by coming here tonight. He started to slide off the stool, planning to leave the rest of his beer unfinished, but a muffled squeal caught his attention. He looked to his right and in the corner was the backside of the bear who’d been seated at the bar earlier. Mitchell leaned back a little to see what that man was doing.
Holy shit. Bear had pushed the cub he’d been eyeing onto his knees, the bear’s pants undone, the cub’s mouth engulfing the other man’s erection.
Out in public.
Where anybody could see them.
Mitchell felt his face flush and quickly turned his head away from the scene, but his gaze wandered back to the glorious vision. God, he needed to get laid. He gripped the mug in front of him as he watched the cub’s head bob up and down. If he strained, he could almost make out the mewling of the man on his knees as he took that obviously large cock into his mouth. Then the cub shoved his hand down his own pants and Mitchell had to fight the urge to mimic the gesture. His cock was achingly hard. Hell, he didn’t work for Beau Broussard yet. He wouldn’t be mixing business with pleasure. And you did bring your special lube.
A throat clearing right in front of Mitchell jerked him out of his thoughts and he snapped his head in the direction of the sound. Zeke. Sexy bartender man. Mitchell took a calming breath as he stared back at him.
“You look like you need something.” The expression on the man’s face was indescribable. Mitchell wasn’t sure if the bartender was pissed because Mitchell was staring at the tableau or if it was because the scene was actually taking place. Or if Zeke was even mad at all. Hell, Mitchell didn’t know him or what was going through that head. And now that the urge to jump up and find somebody to fuck was slowly fading, his brain was starting to work again.
“Um, isn’t that illegal?” Mitchell indicated the blowjob-fest to his right. “Indecent exposure or something?”
A slow smiled curved the corner of Zeke’s lips and he took two steps toward where Mitchell was seated. He rested his forearms on the bar and leaned toward Mitchell.
“You don’t look like a cop.”
No kidding. Mitchell was tall and did have a nice medium build, but he didn’t have the temperament for law enforcement work. His wavy brown hair and light-brown eyes just made him look that much more like a puppy. An overgrown puppy, but a puppy nonetheless. Besides, he liked working in science. He double-majored in chemistry and biology, which he loved, but created a mountain of student loan debt to accomplish the feat.
That was the reason he’d moved to New Orleans from Lafayette to take this job. And now that he was snooping around one of his boss’s businesses, he wasn’t so sure about his decision to come here. If committing sex acts in public was condoned, what other kind of illegal activity would be allowed? Mitchell sure as hell better not have taken a job working for a known criminal. This wasn’t good.
Or maybe you’re just being a prude. Well, there was that.
“Um, no, I’m Mr. Broussard’s new product development specialist. I start tomorrow. Figured I’d come out here, look around and get a feel of the atmosphere to help understand my job.”
Zeke made a noncommittal sound and nodded. “You gay?”
As a three-dollar bill. Mitchell had been out of the closet since he was sixteen and his parents were outwardly supportive—though he knew they secretly wished he’d find a nice girl to settle down with and make babies. But just because he was out didn’t mean he flaunted it.
“Does it matter?” Mitchell hedged.
Zeke shrugged. “Nope. But if you are, you can’t play here. Beau is very strict about employees getting off with the customers.” His eyes cut to the bear and cub in the corner, and Mitchell followe
d. The bear had his hands fisted in the cub’s hair and was fucking his face forcefully, his own head thrown back in ecstasy. Dude must be shooting down that cub’s throat right about now. Mitchell looked at Zeke and the bartender’s scowl was back.
“But that’s allowed?” Mitchell asked again.
Zeke growled as he turned toward Mitchell. “No. So don’t fucking get caught playing.” He turned around to listen to an order by one of the go-go-boy style waiters. After a few minutes of mixing some fruity concoctions, Zeke returned to Mitchell’s side of the bar. “But customers can rent rooms upstairs for play. There are monitors up there that patrol the area to make sure everybody is playing nice.”
Mitchell glanced up the stairs and saw a very tall man with black hair staring down into the club. Next to him stood a smaller man with dark-blond hair wearing glasses and holding either a notebook or an iPad. From this angle, he couldn’t be sure which. But what he was sure about was the man holding the unknown object was fucking sexy. From the grim line of his mouth and the slow shake of his head, he seemed irritated about something. But even mad he looked good. The big man next to him was also attractive, but a little too intimidating for Mitchell’s tastes. But the blond? Damn, the blond had something special going on. Maybe it was that feisty look that Chihuahuas get just before they tear into something, thinking they are as big as a pit bull. Mitchell wasn’t sure what it was, but the smaller man at the top of those stairs was hot with a capital ho.
“Those the monitors?” Mitchell asked as he discretely pointed to the dark knight and the blond prince.
Zeke glanced in the direction Mitchell indicated as he grabbed a margarita glass and then glanced again. “Shit. Shit. No. Shit!” He looked at the bear and the cub who’d finished with their little display and then looked up the stairs again.
“Um, then who are they?”
Zeke shut his eyes and sighed. “Van’s new nightmare.”
“Huh? Who’s Van?” Mitchell asked as he looked around the room.
Right then, a freight train disguised in flesh came charging through the room. Zeke tensed as if he were going to run and block the behemoth of a man, but he stayed in place. What the hell?
“Van’s the sucker who was just on his knees over there. And he works for Beau. He knows better than to get involved with customers. He just did it to make me jealous,” Zeke spat.
Mitchell swung around to face Zeke. “So you’re seeing Van?” Who apparently was the cub who’d just blown the bear.
Zeke’s eyes narrowed. “No. Beau doesn’t like anybody getting involved. Period. Not with customers or other employees. You’d think that prick would actually like sex since he’s in the biz to help dudes get off. But he’s a machine when it comes to business. No emotion.”
The Cro-Magnon man had Van by the arm now and was escorting him to the stairs. At the top the dark-haired man, who looked downright evil, still stood along with the blond. When Mitchell turned back to Zeke, the bartender was staring at him.
“The black-haired devil is your new boss Beau Broussard, and the weasel next to him is his assistant Kayden Wright. Don’t trust him as far as you can throw him.”
Weasel? Out of the all the words that were flying in his brain about that man, weasel wasn’t one. Hot? Yes. Fuckable? Theoretically yes. Sexy? Absolutely. Weasel? No way. Perhaps he was misunderstood. But Mitchell didn’t know if by misunderstood he was thinking Mr. Kayden Wright was a misunderstood man or if Mitchell just misunderstood his reaction to the man.
Didn’t matter. Employees—and customers—were off-limits. And by the looks of his scary new boss, that was a rule Mitchell wouldn’t be breaking anytime soon.
He’d just finished one beer and was already regretting coming out to learn anything about his new job and coworkers.
“Thanks for the info, man.” Mitchell stood. “I’ll see you around.”
Zeke threw the bar towel over his shoulder. “Sure thing. Good luck on your first day.”
“Thanks.” Evil new boss and sexy assistant whom others didn’t like. Yeah, he’d take all the luck he could get.
He was going to need every bit of it.
Chapter Two
Starbucks was a gift from the gods. Mitchell was certain of it as he sipped the ambrosia and hustled into the meeting room on the second floor of his new office building. He hadn’t slept a wink, spending the night figuring out how to twist his sheets into rumbled ropes of fun and exciting shapes underneath his comforter. By the time he’d dragged his ass out of the mangled mess, the comforter was half off the bed and the sheets practically tied around his calves.
His mind had been racing with the events at the club and worrying about his new job. He loved that it was close to the medical center, which allowed him to join a loan-forgiveness program that’d knock out most of that student loan debt with just a few hours of his time each week working on federal research. It’d still take a long time, but it was the best plan he could come up with to not be swimming in debt for the next ten years.
He’d gotten here twenty minutes early, hoping to get some bearings on his new surroundings before work began, but within five minutes of being here, he’d been shuffled upstairs to a conference room. Apparently there was a standing eight o’clock meeting every Monday, so it looked as if he’d get thrown right into the thick of things. God, he hoped this company didn’t do those silly new-face introductions where strangers would ask the new employees about their family and goals. What would he say? Who has time to start a family when my only goal right now is to pay off my enormous student loan debt? Yeah, saying that wouldn’t make him look truly pathetic. Um, right. Just the impression he’d love to leave with his new colleagues. Not.
“Hi, there. You must be Mitchell Hill. I’m Xavier Donaldson, one of Beau’s product development specialists. Logan Bryan is running late as always. He’s the other one in our group.” Xavier offered his hand and Mitchell shook it. The man before him was very attractive—slim with brown hair and hazel eyes.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Come on. You can sit by me. I know it has to be weird being the new guy.”
Mitchell nodded and followed Xavier to one of the plush seats around the conference table. As he sat, he saw a group of men shuffle in. God, he hadn’t seen this many good-looking men inside one room since, well, since last night. But where those men had been dressed for hook-ups, these were dressed to kill. Crisp shirts, pressed slacks, palming iPhones and Droids, these guys were attractive on a whole other level.
Mitchell wondered how he’d be able to work in an industry that focused solely on the gay lifestyle when he had to work with men who could double as models. If he worked somewhere else, he could chastise himself for thinking sexual thoughts while at work, but where did he draw the line when he was supposed to think about sexual things?
“Let’s get started,” a voice boomed, startling Mitchell to look up at Beau Broussard as he walked in. Behind him was Kayden Wright. Yep, just as sexy as Mitchell had remembered. And he was carrying an iPad. Mystery solved.
“Logan’s not here yet,” Xavier said.
Beau growled. Actually growled. Holy hell in a handbasket, he looked mean.
Kayden quickly typed something on his iPad as he took a seat without looking at the guys in the room.
“You can fill him in later.” Beau cleared his throat and looked around the room. “First, we have a new employee. Mitchell Hill will be working in product development.” Beau indicated Mitchell with a wave of his hand and Mitchell hoped his wince remained internal. “Swing by his desk and introduce yourselves.”
Mitchell looked around the room since all eyes were on him, all eyes except Kayden. Why wasn’t the sexy assistant gawking like everybody else? Did he understand how uncomfortable this undivided attention made Mitchell and he didn’t want to add to it? Or was he just extremely focused on his work? Maybe new employee intros bored him. Mitchell swallowed and looked down after he’d realized he’d stared a little too lon
g at the man who’d piqued his interest.
“Watch out for him,” Xavier whispered to Mitchell. “Kayden looks innocent but he’s a shark who can sniff out blood from miles away. I heard he caught Van, one of our sales guys, blowing a regular last night. Beau got pissed and threw him out.” Mitchell glanced at Xavier, who nodded to stress his point.
Rather than comment, taking a sip of coffee seemed like the better alternative.
“I’m going to get right to it,” Beau continued. “Third-quarter sales from all entities were acceptable, but I want to make a push to sell our branded products outside this local niche market. In order to do that, I—” The door swung open.
“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch.” “That’s Logan,” Xavier whispered.
“Sit down,” Beau barked and glared at Logan, who quickly grabbed the first empty chair. “As I was saying, I want to expand our products nationally. In order to do that, I want us to develop something new to grab the attention of gay men throughout the country and maybe globally. It needs to be something fresh but practical, something men will salivate over that’ll force specialty stores around the US to carry it.”
“Why not apply a marketing plan to something we already develop?” a redheaded man asked from the other side of the table.
“I’d considered that, Ryder. However, I don’t think anything we now carry will be strong enough to make that kind of push. I fully stand behind our products and feel each and every one of them deserves to be nationally branded, but we need something strong to focus our attention on initially to have the best chance at making the products we produce known throughout the gay community.”
Beau turned his attention back to the rest of the table. “I know this task would initially start with product development to create something for sales and marketing to determine product feasibility on, but we’re going to do it a little different this time. I want everyone involved in coming up with something that’ll blow the minds of gay men everywhere. So I’ve decided to open this up to all employees across all of my companies. If you have an idea, we want to hear about it. Whoever comes up with the product we decide to launch will be awarded a ten thousand dollar bonus.”