“But you are somebody to Forrester,” Lucas countered. “Do you realize none of his boyfriends have ever met one of his relatives?”
No, he did not know that. He fought a grin. “So it would be significant, say… if he asked me to go to his game Saturday, then hang out at some pizza joint afterward?”
Lucas froze drying his hands. “No. Way. He invited you to Smitty’s?”
Kyle grinned wide. “Yes way.”
“Well, fist-fuck me on a Tuesday,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head just like Jasper the time he ran into the patio door. His big eyes grew bigger, and he pressed his hands to his chest in a dramatic swoon. “Oh, my little baby Frankie must be crazy about you.”
Kyle grinned, really liking Lucas the more time he spent with him. “The feeling is mutual.”
“HEY! IT’S my boyfriends!”
Out of nowhere a cute blonde, with huge boobs straining to pop out of her corset top, jumped on Lucas piggyback style.
He groaned under her weight. “You know you always complain about being single, Rachel. Maybe if you quit hanging out with ’mos, you might meet a man.”
Rachel blew a raspberry and slid drunkenly off his back. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“Somebody’s been drinking already,” Forrester said in a dramatic stage whisper.
Rachel giggled as Holly brought up her rear. “Chocolate vodka.”
Forrester’s brows arched in interest. “No way, I want some.”
Kyle grinned. His lover had such a sweet tooth.
She pulled a flask from between her boobs and handed it over.
“Holy fuck!” Holly stared openmouthed at Forrester.
Flask in hand, he pointed a stern finger at her. “Don’t say another word.”
She shook her head. “You look hawt!”
“Whatever. I know I look like a tool.” Squirming, he pulled the tank down as it inched up his waist when he took a swig. “Oh, that’s good.”
“I know, right?” Rachel said.
Kyle pinched his ass and was rewarded with a yelp. “Your hag’s right. You look amazing.”
Forrester sniffed, moving to get into line. But Kyle could tell he was pleased, because there was a definite swagger in his gait that hadn’t been there earlier. Wordlessly he held his hand out, and Kyle took it.
The loud thump of rock music spilling out of the club doors made Kyle’s feet itch to dance. He hoped the music wouldn’t bother him too much, and that he would hear everyone okay. But if he couldn’t, he had Forrester with him. Steve had already texted Kyle that he was inside with his new man.
“What’s with the fancy digs, hot stuff?” Holly asked, pinching Forrester too.
“Hey now, don’t be bruising the merchandise,” he laughed, squirming away.
“I’ve seen the merchandise. A little bruising won’t hurt it.”
Kyle gave her a curious look. “You have?”
“Didn’t you know?” Rachel said loudly. “Holly and Forrester had sex.”
A guy in line turned around and arched a brow.
Forrester rolled his eyes. “We did not, bucket mouth.”
Holly looked at Kyle. “I just gave him a hand job.”
“In eighth grade,” Forrester said. “It hardly counts.”
“Hey, I didn’t hear any complaints.” Holly gave him an indignant head bob.
He tossed his arm over her shoulder, still keeping hold of Kyle’s hand, and kissed the top of her head. “You’ve always been very good with your hands, dear.”
She play-slugged him in the stomach. “You know it. What about you, Kyle? Have you ever fooled around with a girl?”
“Um, no.”
They all laughed and moved forward to pay their cover.
“Did you see that?” Lucas asked as they went inside. “The bouncer didn’t charge me. He wants me.”
“Everybody wants you.” Forrester leaned down to kiss his short friend right on the lips. Kyle might’ve found this strange and maybe even been jealous, but the two of them had been drinking peach schnapps from Lucas’s flask of “road pop” and taking goofy Snapchats of themselves with dog faces and flowers during the drive to Shiloh. Ordinarily, Forrester was a very tactile man, but once he had a few drinks in him, look out. He became downright lovey-dovey.
Inside the club, the bones of the old laundromat could still be seen. The front half of the place had a bar on one side with two bartenders, sans shirts, and on the platform at the end, one of the dancers shook his ass in an American flag thong in honor of the Fourth. A band played on a small stage in the back half of the place.
After ordering drinks, Kyle texted Steve: We’re at the bar.
Moments later, Steve and a short guy with a big grin and a T-shirt a little too small for his belly joined them. His name was Brian, and after everyone was introduced and a round of drinks was finished, the music called. Forrester took Kyle’s hand and joined the bodies writhing, twisting, and gyrating on the dance floor.
Kyle had been right. Forrester’s long body moved like liquid sex, his hips swaying, bumping and grinding up against Kyle.
Arms around Forrester’s neck, Kyle whispered one of the few Italian words he’d managed to remember, “Baciami,” or kiss me.
Then he pulled Forrester down for a fierce kiss with a whole lot of tongue.
After the kiss, Forrester grinned and mouthed, “What was that for?”
A small smile spread across his face until a huge grin took shape. “I love you.”
“Olive juice too.”
They were all in a little group dancing and having fun. Forrester stayed close to Kyle, but not as close as Steve and Brian, who were grinding away. Steve caught Kyle’s gaze and gave him a thumbs-up. Laughing, Kyle shook his head at his friend. Beside them, Lucas had Rachel on one hip and some other guy on the other.
The song shifted, and Holly shouted, “This is the best song ever!”
Laughing, Forrester turned to dance with her. Kyle smiled, watching Forrester move. The alcohol made him drop all his inhibitions, like when they were alone in bed, free and wild. It was fun watching him be so loose and easy in public. He wished Forrester could always be himself, with no risks of consequences. Maybe that day was—
Suddenly Kyle felt someone behind him, grinding against his butt. Half expecting Lucas or Rachel, he flinched when he saw a strange man.
His stomach dropped to his feet, and he turned around at once so he could fully see the man. Feeling more in control with the guy in his sights, Kyle raised his hands. “I’m good, thanks.”
The guy grinned, not taking no for an answer. He put both hands on Kyle’s hips and pulled him close, still grinding.
He said something Kyle didn’t hear, but he knew what the guy was after, so he pushed his hands away. “I’m here with somebody, so—”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence because, in a flash, Forrester shoved the man away. Chest puffed up and wearing a look to kill, Forrester pushed on the guy’s chest again. “Get your fucking hands off my boyfriend!”
Kyle gaped, having never seen Forrester so furious.
The guy raised his hands in a truce and said something Kyle missed.
Forrester’s face was red with anger, even in the club lights. He pointed at the guy, simultaneously pulling a stunned Kyle behind him. “Don’t you fucking touch him!”
Even over the loud music, Kyle could hear Forrester shouting. Dancers had stepped away from them, anticipating a fight. Steve’s mouth was open in shock.
“I wasn’t—” the guy began.
But Forrester shoved him again with both hands, and he almost fell backward. “Get the fuck outta here before I beat your faggot ass, you hear me?”
“Forrester,” Kyle warned, taking hold of his arm. Christ, did he just say that?
The man laughed and rolled his eyes, dancing away.
Boiling, Forrester pulled Kyle against him, wrapping a possessive arm around his neck. “Fucking motherfuckers,” he g
rumbled, still keeping an eye out for the guy. “Fucking greasy bastard.”
A hand tapped Kyle’s shoulder, and he turned to see Lucas beside them. Kyle looked at his mouth as Lucas said, “Well, that was different. What the hell?”
Forrester didn’t seem the least bit sorry. “What do you mean, what the hell?” he demanded of his friend. “He was touching Kyle.”
“You’re on a dance floor in a gay bar,” Lucas said. “What do you think’s gonna happen, Frankie?”
“That I’m gonna have to beat somebody’s fucking face in.” Glancing down, Forrester loosened his hold on Kyle. His hands were actually shaking as he leaned down and whispered something Kyle didn’t catch.
“You’re crazy, you know that?” Kyle said.
“Crazy about you,” he argued, and then he kissed him harsh and deep, the music lost in the sound of his pulse beating. “You sure you’re okay?”
Moving with the beat again, Kyle wrapped his arms around his neck and smiled. “I’m fine and thank you.”
Forrester met Kyle’s gaze and said, “I’ll keep you safe forever. I promise.” He stroked Kyle’s cheek, his face earnest. “No one will ever hurt you again. Not when I’m around.”
Overcome, Kyle squeezed his eyes shut and placed his head on Forrester’s chest. The past still haunted him if he allowed it, but the conviction Forrester put into that vow made Kyle feel so very loved and protected.
Soon the incident was forgotten, and they lost themselves to the music. Kyle had three beers, so he was done for the night, but the rest of them were in high swing. Holly was the selfie queen, making all of them take “duck face” pics with her on the dance floor. The band did a final set, then a DJ began to play club music. The place was packed, the dancers a living thing, bouncing and moving to the pulsing beat. They were having so much fun, Forrester didn’t even protest when Rachel made him take his tank top off.
Steve tapped Kyle on the shoulder and mouthed, “Your man’s got quite the temper and quite the body.”
Kyle laughed and nodded. Seeing Forrester dancing shirtless, his tank top tucked in his pocket, a peekaboo of underwear band, it was all Kyle could do not to drag him to the bathroom for a little X-rated fun.
After the rough week, Kyle was happy watching Forrester forget about his worries, at least for a little while.
“You want another drink?” Kyle asked Forrester over the loud thump of a Beyoncé song.
“Oooh,” he said a bit too excitedly. “Let’s get some of those cotton candy vodka thingies!”
Kyle laughed and kissed him. “Stay here, I’ll get it.”
“You want me to come with you?” His expression sobered, eyes creased in concern.
“I’ll be fine,” Kyle assured him.
Forrester made a face until Kyle shooed him away. Then he turned back around to shake his delectable ass with Holly.
Just knowing Forrester was there removed any nerves he might’ve had about being in a noisy atmosphere. And so far, the music wasn’t bothering him. No, he couldn’t hear a damn thing besides the music, but everyone was making a point to turn their faces toward Kyle even when they were talking to one another so he could read their lips. Steve loved that Kyle read lips, because they could “gossip in private.” Kyle wondered if the rest of them were just that thoughtful or if Forrester had said something to them.
Kyle approached the bar, spying an opening beside a pregnant woman in a pink feather boa. She craned her neck at the gyrating man in a red-white-and-blue speedo dancing on the end of the bar. Her stylish blonde hair was held off her face by a headband with two smiling penis figures bobbing on antennae.
“Nice dick,” Kyle joked, reaching up and using his finger to wiggle one of the little penises.
“Thanks. Gives new meaning to meathead, eh?” She flipped a thumb upward. “Or did you mean him?”
“Both.” Chuckling, he gestured to the bartender.
The pregnant woman moved, bumping him with her belly. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
She pulled the headband off and said something to him.
Kyle moved to read her lips but missed it. He caught her gaze and pointed at his ear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
She squinted at his processor, then smiled. “I said, I’m the DD. How lame is that? Fat, pregnant, sober, and driving my drunk friends in a minivan to a gay bar for a bachelorette party.”
Kyle laughed, pleased she hadn’t just talked louder or exaggerated her words when she repeated herself. Some people just got it.
Suddenly a warm body pressed to his. He jerked his head back in surprise and spun around.
It was the guy from the dance floor.
Kyle removed the bold hand from his ass. “I’m here with my boyfriend. Just leave me alone, okay?”
“You sure?”
“He wasn’t kidding when he said he would beat your ass,” Kyle said diplomatically, hoping the guy would pound sand. “So, yeah, I’m sure.”
The man looked Kyle up and down wistfully, and then he left.
Sniffing with annoyance, Kyle shook his head.
The pregnant woman tapped his shoulder to speak to him. “Persistent fella, huh?”
“Yeah, my boyfriend already tried to pick a fight with him.”
“Jealous guy?”
“Italian.”
She laughed. “I got one of those too. Jealous as the day is long.”
A woman wearing a white wedding veil littered with tiny cocks joined the pregnant lady. She said something, then stood up on her tiptoes, attempting to signal the bartender. The women started laughing.
Still smiling, the pregnant woman looked at Kyle. “Bride wants to know what you have to do to get a drink around here, and I said, probably have a real dick, not little plastic ones stuck to your head.”
Kyle chuckled, startled by her inclusion of him.
She grinned. “You’re cute. Can you get that guy’s attention for us?”
Ahh, so that’s why she’s still talking to me.
“Sure.” Forrester would get a kick out of this lady. He raised his arm, and the bartender spied him and immediately came over.
“What do you want, gorgeous?” he asked. “I get off at three.”
Blushing slightly, Kyle said, “Six cotton candy shots and two bottles of water.” He pointed at the bride-to-be. “You want a shot?”
“Sure!”
“Make that seven shots.” He looked at the pregnant woman. “I’d offer you a drink, but don’t DDs get free pop?”
She held up her empty glass in illustration. “Not in this bar.”
Kyle flipped a thumb at her and told the bartender, “Get her anything she wants and put it on my tab.”
She placed a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to do that.”
“The last thing we need is a pregnant woman passing out from dehydration in Shiloh’s first gay nightclub. Talk about the gays ruining family values. Just don’t buy all your friends drinks, capisci? It’s already bad enough my boyfriend likes fifteen-dollar martinis and expensive shots.”
“High-maintenance guy, eh?”
“Um, that would be a huge no. If you saw the way he carried on before we came here because I bought him some new clothes, whining that jeans were”—he did dramatic quotes in the air—“scratchy. Honestly, I’ve never met a man who doesn’t own a pair of jeans.”
She laughed. “Sounds like my brother.”
The bartender lined up seven shot glasses with tufts of cotton candy and seamlessly poured vodka across them, dissolving the fluff almost instantly.
A hand touched his arm, and Kyle turned, hoping it wasn’t that creep again. He smiled when he saw Forrester.
“What’s taking so long, bello?” Forrester pointed at the bar. “Are those ours?”
Kyle nodded.
“Yum!” Forrester reached over his shoulder, picked up one of the shots, and threw it back. Then he kissed Kyle, pushing remnants of sweet vodka into his mouth with his t
ongue.
Taken by surprise, Kyle pulled back, and the sticky alcohol dribbled down his chin.
“Oops, my bad.” But the way Forrester leaned in and licked his chin betrayed the innocent look. Then he boldly worked his talented tongue down Kyle’s throat.
Forrester took hold of his ass and smashed their pelvises together, moving his kisses and licks across his neck. Kyle shuddered with pleasure until that tongue found the ticklish spot on his collarbone. Kyle laughed and tried to squirm away. He noticed the pregnant woman had both brows arched, her mouth open, watching Forrester’s tongue work up his neck.
“My boyfriend,” he said with an embarrassed chuckle. He put his hands on Forrester’s biceps and tried to pry the very amorous Italian off him.
She sipped her pop. “I see that.”
The body beneath Kyle’s hands stiffened, and Forrester stopped trying to kiss him. The sudden lack of resistance startled Kyle, and he looked at him curiously. But Forrester was staring at the woman.
“Hi, Frankie.”
FORRESTER’S ENTIRE body went rigid.
“Can’t say I expected to see you here tonight,” Amanda said, her eyes wide as she took in his shirtless form.
“You know her?” Kyle looked between the two of them.
Forrester turned his face toward Kyle but kept staring at Amanda. “This is Amanda, Dino’s wife,” he managed, his throat tightening as phantom fingers began asphyxiating him.
Kyle’s eyes went huge.
Shit! Amanda had just watched him licking a man in a gay bar.
The thumping beat, which moments before had been so fun, was rendered chaotic and overwhelming. The alcohol clouded his thoughts, blurring his vision. His chest tightened and his breaths shortened. Like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room anymore. He’d never been claustrophobic, but he sure felt like it now.
He took a deep breath. He wouldn’t hide from her or lie. Not that he could lie. He’d been caught red-handed.
But he would not be a coward.
Possessively, he pressed the back of Kyle’s hand to his thigh, squeezing tight. His voice was thick, choked even, when he asked, “What are you doing here?”
“Bachelorette party with some girls from the salon. Aren’t you going to introduce me to the man you were just licking?”
La Famiglia Page 23