Tied to Trouble (Gamers)

by Megan Erickson

  So there he was, staring at those sexy lips twisted into a smirk.

  Owen clenched his jaw and gestured over Chad’s shoulder. “I, uh, was heading in there.”

  But Chad didn’t move, and those hazel eyes grew heavy lidded as his gaze dropped to Owen’s mouth.

  Which made him look at Chad’s mouth, imagining all the things it could do.

  Shit.

  He made to brush past the other man, but that was a mistake, apparently, because instead of finding himself in the bathroom, he was pressed against the wall beside the door, Chad’s hands fisted on the wall on either side of Owen’s head.

  His eyes went wide, and he choked back a curse. Chad’s face was inches away. Owen could see he’d missed a spot shaving, right there on the corner of his right jaw. He could lean forward, just a bit, run his tongue along that stubble…

  No. No. Shut down that train of thought.

  He couldn’t move, though not because Chad was physically holding him in place. No, he could easily duck under one of those leather-clad arms and leave. He was stuck because of Chad’s stare, his smell of leather and cologne. It was intoxicating.

  Owen worked to maintain an impassive expression.

  And failed miserably, judging by the other man’s expression.

  One corner of Chad’s lips slowly lifted. He took one hand off the wall and tugged on Owen’s bow tie. “So proper with this bow tie and that hair and those glasses.” Chad’s voice was velvet, so smooth that Owen felt it slide down his throat and around his cock like caressing fingers.

  The other man leaned in, and Owen sucked in a breath. Chad ran his nose up the side of Owen’s neck, under his ear, and then teeth tugged on his earlobe. Owen squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his hands into fists.

  Chad’s breath gusted on his abused lobe. “What are you like once the bow tie and glasses come off, once you let your hair get a little messy, huh?”

  Lips came next, running along Owen’s jaw, over his chin, brushing the corner of his lips.

  And then just like that, there was no more heat of Chad’s body, no more cologne or leather. Owen popped his eyes open to see Chad two feet away, hands loosely hanging at his sides, a smirk on his lips, like none of this had affected him. “Bet you never let yourself get like that, do you?” he asked. His voice lowered. “I bet you even fuck with the lights off.”

  Something in Owen flared to life, something he hadn’t realized was in him. Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was those goddamn Chad Lake pheromones oozing from the man, but Owen wasn’t about to let this guy think he could get under his skin without retaliation. Not that it mattered what Chad thought, but that didn’t stop Owen’s heart from thumping in his chest like a drum as he surged forward and pinned Chad to the wall, quickly reversing their previous position.

  Chad’s eyes widened a fraction in surprise, and Owen felt the same. But Chad had caught him on a bad day. A day when he was lonely in a sea of people who should know him, so fuck this man who wanted to prod and mock him.

  Owen leaned close, so his breath mingled with Chad’s soft exhales. So the tips of his bow tie touched the edges of Chad’s leather jacket.

  When Chad’s breath sped up, when his pupils dilated, Owen knew he had him. “Do you want to know how I’d fuck you?” he asked.

  Chad didn’t answer. Finally, he licked his lips. “Yeah,” he said with a croak he didn’t succeed in masking.

  Owen let his gaze trail over Chad’s face. “I’d take my time, peeling all these clothes off you. I wouldn’t touch you, though. No, I’d make it so you were naked in front of me, begging, begging for just a brush of my hand on your skin. And then I’d stroke you, nice and slow. I’d bite you, leave my marks behind. And when you’re just about to come, I’d pull you back from the brink. I’d bend you over a couch or a chair or a bed. I’d spread open that sweet ass. I can tell it’s sweet because of those tight jeans you’re wearing.”

  Heat crept up his neck at the images he was creating. Owen had to stop talking. He couldn’t catch his breath, and he was so hard in his pants, so fucking hard, he wanted to press the heel of his palm to his cock to try to calm himself. Where was this coming from? He’d never talked like this before. But looking at Chad, feeling Chad, imagining Chad in the positions flashing through his mind, had his filthy thoughts pouring out in a torrent.

  He was barely holding it together.

  Chad wasn’t faring much better. His chest rose and fell, and his neck was flushed. His lips were parted, his tongue between his teeth.

  The sight of him so affected spurred Owen on. “I’d make you beg me for my tongue and my fingers. Then I’d work you open until you were wet and ready. And then…” Owen took a deep breath, took a hand off the wall and gripped the dark hair on top of Chad’s head. He jerked Chad’s head back an inch, enough to let him feel the tug on his scalp, to let him know who was in control. It felt right. “Then I’d fuck you so, so slow you wouldn’t be able to think about anything other than me. And just when you couldn’t take it anymore, I’d speed up the pace and pound you into the bed. I’d ruin you for anyone else.”

  Even though it took all the willpower he possessed in his body, he relinquished his grip on Chad’s hair and pulled away, then took two steps back. Owen was as wrecked as Chad looked, so fucking hard and wanting to do all those things he talked about. But he wouldn’t let Chad see his desire. No. He’d gotten the upper hand, left Chad staring at him like he actually was a ghost. Sure, his hands shook and he was two seconds away from having a total meltdown over what he’d just done, but he’d wiped the smirk off Chad’s face.

  And now it was definitely time to leave.

  He swallowed twice before he felt confident enough to speak without a tremor in his voice. “That’s exactly how I’d fuck you,” he said then shrugged with all the nonchalance he didn’t feel. “Too bad it’ll never happen.”

  He left Chad standing against the wall as he walked away with wobbly legs, telling himself not to look back. Marley had wanted him to meet her brother? Check mark.

  Chapter Two

  They were ten minutes away from last call, and Chad couldn’t wait.

  Blue Moon Bar was packed. Everyone wanted to come out on this mild spring night after the harsh winter they’d had, wear their club clothes, and get laid. The only reason Chad wasn’t dead on his feet was because they had a drink special tonight that had been premixed in large containers.

  Still, he’d pulled a lot of beer, and he reeked of every liquor imaginable.

  The job was fun. He got to mix drinks and flirt and make money all at the same time. But tonight, his back muscles were tight and his head hurt and all he could think about was bow ties.

  Fucking Bow Tie.

  That guy. Chad didn’t even know his name. He could ask Marley who he was, but everything about that encounter had felt private.

  Personal.

  Really fucking hot.

  I’d bite you, leave my marks behind.

  Part of Chad wanted to yell that he’d be the one leaving marks behind, and the other part of him was saying, fuck yes, sign me the hell up.

  But the majority of him wanted to forget that damn guy and get on with his life. It’d been a long time—hell, maybe the only time—since someone had gotten the upper hand emotionally on him in a sexual situation. Usually he was able to keep his wits about him, maintain the smirk and the snark. But with Bow Tie, he was left speechless. Fucking speechless. He was never left speechless. And if he ever ran into the guy again, he’d make sure Bow Tie got a whole lot of his mouth. One way or another.

  He shook his head and slid a gin and tonic to a man in a blue button-down. The guy was close to sealing the deal with a woman he’d been talking up all night. Chad shot him a wink in encouragement. He’d been silently rooting for him all night, and the guy’s companion with the long red nails was clearly a little smitten.

  He nodded to Ace, his friend and the other bartender, as the guy made the last call announcement.


  The next half hour was a blur of making last drinks, cutting off customers who were too drunk, and making sure clients left the Blue Moon still wanting to come back and spend more money.

  He’d had been working at the bar for a couple of months now. This was normally the time he’d move on, live off his savings until another job piqued his interest, but he hadn’t made the move yet. Maybe he was getting too old or mature or something, but he wasn’t eager to hang up his Blue Moon cuffs and bow tie.

  And if he was honest with himself, he was putting off quitting. Because if he quit, he’d have to make a decision, maybe even commit to a career he’d been chasing for years, and hell if that commitment didn’t scare the shit out of him.

  So he flirted with the customers and Ace, who rolled his eyes. Ace was straight, really straight, but they had this flirting routine down that the customers always ate up in a will-they-or-won’t-they way. They wouldn’t. Ever. But the customers didn’t know that.

  Chad turned to his guy. “Hey, you finally ready to cave and go home with me tonight?”

  While pouring a rum and Coke, Ace—the smug, hot bastard who was excellent in this role—didn’t even look up. “In your dreams, Lake.”

  Several customers laughed, and one hollered, “Ouch!”

  “Let’s make that dream a reality.” Chad waggled his eyebrows. A man drinking a draft groaned at the lame quip.

  “Sorry, but I like pussy in my bed,” Ace said back, earning a couple of laughs.

  Chad did, too, sometimes. He liked it all, really. “Oh, can I join?” he said, bumping his hip into Ace’s as he walked toward the cash register.

  “Keep dreaming,” Ace said with a wink.

  Chad licked his lips and gave his coworker the once-over. “Oh, I will.”

  Ace laughed it off and turned back to the bar to drop a ten in the tip bucket. Someone yelled, “Give him a chance, Ace!” But the man shook his head and grinned at Chad. He grinned back. They all knew Chad as the flirt because that’s what he was. That’s what he did.

  At least, that’s what he did there.

  By the time they closed down the bar, Chad’s feet were killing him and his back ached. But while his body was fatigued, his mind was still going. He probably should have skipped that last Red Bull, but it’d been necessary to get through the chaos of last call.

  On the way home, he considered going to see his sister. But then he remembered she didn’t live at her apartment anymore, and he feared what Austin would do to him if Chad woke them up. If he’d put a little effort into it, he could have gone home with someone from the bar. But his mind was all over the place ever since that Bow Tie fucker messed with it that morning. And no one wanted a distracted lay.

  So he went home, stripped down to his boxer briefs, and sat in front of his computer with a bottle of water.

  Facebook was boring. He was friends with too many of Marley’s friends, so there were a lot of babies on his news feed. No, thank you.

  He took a gulp of water and shifted in his seat, then opened up Adobe Illustrator. When he needed to calm himself down, clear his mind, he always went right to design. He was self-taught, since his college experience had lasted a whole half a year during which his party-to-class attendance ratio was about five to one. He’d had no idea what he wanted to do at eighteen.

  He hadn’t known what he wanted to do at twenty-five, either.

  And now he was twenty-seven and thought he knew what he wanted to do, but accomplishing that seemed daunting and maybe a little embarrassing. It’d taken him a long-ass time to get his head together, while Marley was amazing. Not that he begrudged her success. He was thrilled for sure. But he could be happy for her and depressed about his own nonexistent career at the same time.

  He began to draw in Illustrator. He didn’t know what yet, but a face was taking shape. A man’s face with big blue eyes. Then all of a sudden, the face had glasses. Horn-rimmed ones.

  Chad leaned forward, getting into it now as he sketched a bare torso—rounded pecs and beaded nipples and a set of pretty spectacular abs.

  The bow tie was next. Kind of a nerdy version of Chad’s uniform at Blue Moon. This bow tie had polka dots. Because why not?

  And then he began to work on those delicious V-muscles that led right to…

  A dick. A big dick, because that’s what Chad had on his mind tonight. And if he wasn’t mistaken, he was getting a little hard. He glanced down. Yep. He was getting hard over an illustrated geek with a bow tie and a big dick. One he drew himself. Was that sick? Was there something wrong with him?

  The dick was pretty, too. Cut and pink and hard. Chad grinned, sticking his tongue into the corner of his mouth as he enlarged the cock until it hung down to his fantasy geek’s knees. If that was real, the guy would have fallen forward onto his face.

  Chad laughed to himself, giddy on his own creation, as he returned the dick to normal—if not bigger than average—size, then gave the guy a set of boots. He added on a cape, which flapped behind his naked superhero, who stood with his fisted hands on his naked hips.

  Chad leaned back in his chair and cocked his head. He’d made a naked, geeky, rather well-endowed superhero who looked exactly like the guy who he couldn’t get out of his head.

  Goddamn it.

  He was really hard now. Not in a way where he was rushing to get off, but in a way that felt good just to want. It’d been a long time since desire this strong settled in his gut. Desire over something that was unattainable. Because that’s what Bow Tie was. He didn’t even know his name.

  That’s exactly how I’d fuck you. Too bad it’ll never happen.

  He’d had a lot of kiss-offs in his life, but none had ever been as epic as that one.

  Chad smiled and wrote in slashed font, “The Dapper Dick.” And below that, “Superpowers: self-lubricating cock and ability to have and give multiple orgasms.”

  It was ridiculous. This was ridiculous, and he really should analyze why he was drawing superhero porn at four in the morning rather than sleeping like a normal fucking adult.

  He turned off his computer, but not without saving the Dapper Dick, because hell, he’d spent like an hour on it, so why not.

  After guzzling the rest of his water, he collapsed onto his bed, wondering if he’d ever be able to look at a bow tie again without sprouting wood.

  That’d be awkward at weddings.

  …

  His picture was right there.

  That same thick dark hair. The smirk. The fucking leather jacket. He was right there, sporting a huge white grin with his arm thrown around Marley’s shoulders.

  She was smiling, too, hugging her brother tight with an arm wrapped around his waist.

  Owen shifted his attention away from the picture to where Marley sat behind her desk in her office at Gamers magazine. She was on the phone, so Owen had a moment to get his head together before he had to pay attention. Which was hard on a regular Monday, but especially hard on a Monday when he’d spent all weekend thinking about fucking his boss’s brother.

  The shock of his encounter with Chad had finally eased somewhat, and Owen was just beginning to think through the…assertive part of himself he hadn’t realized he had. He’d always been the quiet one, and although he was somewhat particular about cleanliness and organization, he was also relatively go-with-the-flow and content to follow rather than lead.

  He was proud he had that aggressive side in him, even though he’d never get to test it out on Chad again. Chad had underestimated him, but he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. No way would Owen gain the upper hand again, nor could he withstand what a man like that could dish out once he was prepared. If they crossed paths again, he’d have to fake his confidence long enough to run the other direction, or Chad would eat him for lunch.

  Which, unfortunately, sounded better than it should.

  “Owen?”

  When he looked up, Marley’s phone was back in its cradle, and she was watching him expectantly. Right,
it was time for him to focus. He shook his head and leaned toward his boss with what he hoped was an eager smile on his face, all doting employee.

  Marley wasn’t buying it. “What’s with you today?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re…” She waved a hand around her head. “Out of it or something.”

  “Sorry,” Owen mumbled, staring at his hands fisted in his lap. Marley was the one employee in this whole place who gave a shit about him. The feeling was mutual, which was why he felt extra guilty. The timing couldn’t have been worse, not when he’d vowed to step up his game at work, speak out more, be a real player. And here he was barely hanging on to minimum concentration levels.

  “It’s okay. Is everything all right?”

  No way would he tell her he had cornered her beloved brother in the hallway at the company party and detailed all the ways he’d debauch him. “Uh, yeah, everything’s fine. Sorry, keep talking about what you were talking about before your phone call.”

  Her lips quirked. “And what was I talking about before?”

  Shit. “Uh, the thing and the other thing, doing the thing?”

  She blinked at him.

  He threw up his hands. “I’m sorry, okay? It won’t happen again. I’ll be a good editor, and I’ll sit here and soak up your words like a sponge.”

  Marley just stared at him.

  He sighed. “And I’ll bring you doughnuts tomorrow.”

  Her grin stretched across her face, and he knew he’d said the right words. Then she launched into an update on a big advertising account they wanted to land, which would be huge for the magazine, and Owen did the most valiant job he could at paying attention despite the distracting picture sitting on the bookcase behind her desk.

  Half an hour later, Owen was back at his desk, and he wasn’t sure he’d done much sponging at all.

  He had the self-awareness to realize this was a problem, this weird obsession with his boss’s brother. Chad was the type of guy he would stay away from normally, the type of guy who thought he was the exception to the rule. Who thought that mundane things like traffic laws didn’t apply to him. Who didn’t wear important things like fucking helmets when riding unprotected on top of a motorcycle.