Jagger_The Hottest Guys You'll Love to Love

by Jessie Cooke

  She reached across the desk and touched my hand. It took everything inside of me not to jump out of my chair. “I’m sure that anyone lucky enough to get to hang out with you would be up for doing it any night of the week. You told me the tuition for school was something like seventy grand, right?” I nodded and swallowed, but there was no spit there. My mouth was completely dry. She was touching me. “You could make that much in six months or less. Think about it, wouldn’t it be nice to graduate completely debt free?”

  “Yeah,” my voice croaked, like a thirteen-year-old going through puberty. Jesus, I was a mess. I picked up the glass of water she’d poured for me and took a big gulp. After a deep breath I said, “Yeah, that would be nice.”

  “Then, do we agree? You’ll do Saturdays for me?”

  I would do anything for her. “Yeah, okay.”

  She smiled, and my cock did a somersault in my pants. When she moved her hand, I wanted to reach for it and take it back, but of course I didn’t. I just sat there like the big dork that I am. “I’m so happy,” she said, brushing a lock of hair back off her face. I wondered if she knew what she was doing to me. “I need one more favor.”

  Shit! “Okay…”

  “This Saturday night you’ll do your regular thing, but I need you to come in Wednesday afternoon for rehearsal. I’m going to change up the order of things a little bit. You’re going to be my grand finale.”

  I have two finals on Thursday. I need to tell her no. “Okay, sure.” Fuck. I stood in the shower now, wondering just how long I was going to be able to keep this all up.

  3

  Margo

  “Can you sign my bra?” I was turned away from the pack of women that surrounded the guys. I almost couldn’t stand to watch the way they threw themselves at Nick. I wanted to tell them he was gay, just to be mean, but then, of course, I’d be cutting off my own nose to spite my face. I turned at the sound of that comment, and of course it was directed at Nick. The girl had her blouse pulled up and her dollar-store boob job hanging out. My sweet Nick’s hand was shaking as he signed his name across the hot pink bra with a black Sharpie. I bet he hated this, but, damn, he’s a great pretender. He’s almost as good as Steve. To watch him, you’d think his pretty mouth was watering at the sight of those obviously enhanced breasts.

  He finished signing his name and then she really stepped over the line. “How about you put your phone number on the other one? I’m in town all week.” I didn’t even wait to see what he was going to do. I reached over and took the pen out of his hand. He looked shocked, and the plastic Skipper doll looked pissed. I smiled sweetly and leaned over in front of Nick. I tried not to concentrate on the fact that my side was pressing right into the front of his pants as I wrote the club’s number on her left breast.

  “There you go, honey, call us anytime.” I said, with a big wink.

  I reluctantly sat up and looked at Nick. He looked…embarrassed? Maybe, his face was all red and, as soon as I looked at him, he looked away. Miss Las Vegas was at least gone. The next woman up was about three hundred pounds and sixty years old. “Hi, sweetie! You were just magnificent! This is my first strip show, and I loved it!”

  His face turned an even brighter red, but he winked at her and said, “Well, I hope it won’t be your last.” She giggled like a schoolgirl and held out a white handkerchief.

  “I’m sure it won’t be. Do you mind signing this for me?”

  “Not at all. What’s your name, beautiful?” Damn, he’s good.

  She giggled again. “Edna, she said.

  “Edna.” He signed the handkerchief and then, as he handed it back to her, he said, “A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.” This kid is too much…and my damned panties are soaked again. I could hardly wait to get home so I could get my hand down into them. Tonight had been Nick’s first night as my finale, and he had brought down the house. He had come out dressed as an Indian Chief, in a headdress with feathers and the whole bit. His G-string was brown suede and there was so much petting going on towards the end of the show, I think he might have actually gotten an erection. I guess even a guy who doesn’t like women can only handle so many hands on his cock before it gets hard. I have no idea how much money he made, but I know it had to be a lot.

  It was after two a.m., and Nick’s line for pictures and autographs was still at least twenty deep. I saw Steve approach him, and I bristled when he put his hand on Nick’s shoulder. I like Steve, but he’s a man-whore. I saw Nick more as the one-man kind of guy. Sometimes I wonder what they’re doing together, and then I imagine it and my night is ruined. Steve whispered something in his ear and I saw Nick nod and look up at his line. I read disappointment in his eyes, but I heard him tell Steve, “Really, don’t worry about it. I’ll get a cab.” Steve patted him on the back and gave a little wave in my direction. I waved back and watched him go. I looked at Nick, who was watching him go, too. It was obvious he wanted to go with him.

  While he finished up with his line, I helped the bartender cash out. I walked out with Vince and had a cigarette with him before he left for the night. When I went back in, there were only two women left in the line. They had Nick take a picture with each one of them and I saw him press his lips into the top of the short red-haired woman’s head. He held his smile until they were both gone, and then he let out a long breath, like he’d been holding it.

  “Hey, Margo, if there’s nothing else, I’m going to take off.” I looked at my watch, it was after three already.

  “Sure, but hang on just a second.” I could tell he was trying to hide his impatience. He was tired; I didn’t blame him. At least it was Saturday night and he didn’t have school the next day. Maybe he was impatient because he wanted to get home to Steve. I hurried in the back and locked up the office. A couple of the servers were still cleaning and stocking, so I gave my keys to the head of security and asked him to lock up. “Come on, Nick, I’ll give you a ride home.”

  “Oh…uh, you don’t have to do that. It’s a nice night. I’ll just walk.”

  He’d walk? I knew I didn’t turn him on, but was I that terrible to be around? “Oh, I didn’t know you lived so close. I thought I heard you tell Steve you’d get a cab.”

  “Yeah, my car is in the shop and Steve was going to give me a ride home…”

  I smiled. “You don’t have to explain your private life to me, Nick. I was just trying to help.”

  “Okay, thanks, Margo.”

  “So, would you like a ride, or…?”

  “Um, yeah, I guess.”

  He guessed…that made a girl feel good. “Let’s go, then.” As I walked towards the door, I heard him hurrying up behind me. He reached out with his long arm just before I got there and pulled open the door. He stood there like a perfect gentleman as I went through first. The side of my arm brushed up against his chest as I passed, and my core lit on fire once again. Jesus, Margo, get a grip! He followed me to the parking lot and as soon as I clicked the doors unlocked on my Challenger, he reached for the door handle. I stifled a smile and let him open the door. He went around and slipped into the passenger side and my car filled with the masculine smell of the soap he’d used in the shower he’d just taken. I could feel sweat beading up on my upper lip. I wondered if he’d let me give him a blow job…that’s pretty universal, right? Dear God, I’m sick! I’m a sick woman who is lusting after a boy who is almost half my age and doesn’t even like girls. What is wrong with me? My last boyfriend, my dear departed Carlos, was seventy-two years old when he died. I admit that was mostly about money, but I’ve really never gone for young boys before, or gay ones.

  “This is a nice car.”

  “Thanks. I love it. It was my dream car.”

  “Cool.”

  He was silent again. “Nick, where do you live?”

  I glanced over at his face. He looked like he was thinking about it. Why does he have to think about where he lives?

  “You know what, it’s kind of far. You could just drop me up here a
t the corner and I’ll walk the rest of the way…or get a cab…”

  “If it’s really far, why would you walk?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just late and I’m sure you have things to do…”

  “Nope, I was just going to sleep. Tell me where you live, Nick. I don’t mind if it’s far.” I watched his sexy Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. Why doesn’t he want to tell me where he lives? “Nick?”

  “Paradise Road.”

  “Okay. That’s not so far…”

  “I live in the Cobblestone Creek Apartments.”

  “Oh.” Now it makes sense. That’s a really bad neighborhood. He’s embarrassed, the poor kid. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  I glanced over at him again. He looked like he would rather I didn’t, but finally he said, “Sure.”

  “Steve has worked for me for a really long time and I know he makes good money. Why doesn’t he get you a nicer place?” I stopped at a red light and looked over at him. He looked confused.

  “Well, I guess Steve has his own bills,” he said, after we were already moving again.

  I had no idea what that meant. “Oh, okay.” We rode in silence for the next fifteen minutes or so, until we were close, and then he told me where to turn and where to pull into the apartments. I drove around to the back when he pointed.

  “This is good,” he said. I pulled up, and he reached for the door handle. He stopped and turned back to face me. God, he’s too pretty to live in this neighborhood. I didn’t want to leave him here. I knew it wasn’t any of my business, but I had half a mind to talk to Steve about this. I had assumed they lived together, but I couldn’t see Steve in a place like this. If that was the case, he needed to be taking better care of his partner. “Thank you, Margo. I’m sorry to bring you all the way out here. Keep your doors locked until you get back to the freeway, okay?” So-damned-cute!

  “I will, and you’re welcome, Nick.” He continued to sit there for a minute and my active imagination had him turning around, taking me in his arms…

  “Well, goodnight then.”

  “Good night.” Damn. I watched him get out, and I waited until he’d reached his door before I moved up and made a U-turn. When I came back by the apartment, he was still standing at the door, watching me. He raised his hand as I went by. I waved at him and then I hurried home. A bubble bath, a glass of wine, and the new butterfly kiss massager I’d just bought over the internet were all calling my name.

  4

  Nick

  I closed the door and stood there with my back pressed up against it, trying to catch my breath. Being in the car with her, watching her skirt ride up high on her thighs, smelling that amazing perfume she always wore…it was too fucking much. I should have taken a cab. Besides the fact that I was going to either have to get off or take a long, cold shower before I could get to sleep, now she knew where I lived. Sometimes I would see the way she looked at me and I’d try to imagine that I had a chance with her, then something like this would put me another ten steps behind. A woman like her very likely lived in a mansion, or a gated community, or both. These apartments were beat up and run down, and the cops were here two or three times a day. Once again I was forced to admit that I had nothing to offer her.

  With a heavy sigh, I went into my room and started stripping off my clothes. I was down to my boxers when my phone rang. There was only one person who would be calling me at four a.m. I looked at the face on my phone and smiled.

  “Good morning, Pop. What are you doing up already?”

  “Nicky, I can’t find your Granny…”

  Damn! He’d been doing so well. “What is it that you need, Poppa? Where is the nurse?”

  “I need your Granny. I’ve been looking for her all night…”

  Jesus! He’s been up all night? This is my fault. I usually go over and make sure he takes his medicine and that he’s in bed before I leave for the club. My session with Jake went long yesterday, and I was so fucking tired. The night nurse should be there. Where in the hell is she?

  “Poppa, I’ll be right there, okay?”

  “Is Granny with you?” His voice cracked and my eyes filled with tears. Granny’s been dead for five years. Sometimes he’d forget, and I’d have to remind him. I fucking hate that.

  “I’ll be right there.” He kept talking, so I put the phone on speaker and pulled on my pants. He was rambling about cooking something. Fuck! He’s in no shape right then to be using the stove. “Poppa, I’ll fix you something to eat when I get there, okay? Don’t turn the stove on. Poppa, is the nurse there? Maybe she’s in the living room asleep?”

  “Nicky? Is that you? Where are you?”

  Fuck! “I’m coming, Poppa. I’ll be right there.” I pulled my tennis shoes on and grabbed my phone and my keys. Poppa lived in a house about two miles from me. He had nurses that came around the clock. There was no reason for him to be alone. I was supposed to pick the car up today, too, but I’d slept too long and fucking ran out of time. I jogged down to the so-called “security” gates, and hit Paradise Road running. I jogged the two miles to the little residential neighborhood that he and my grandmother lived in for over forty years before she died. His house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac and it was completely dark. There were no cars out front, either…his fucking nurse hadn’t shown up. When I got up to the front door, I found it standing open. My heart was beating so fast in my chest that I thought it was going to explode. “Poppa! Poppa, it’s Nicky, where are you?” I checked the kitchen. The oven was on. There was nothing inside. I turned it off and checked the rest of the house. There was no sign of him. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and pressed in his number. I’d bought him a little flip phone that was made just for the elderly. He could call me or 911 if he needed it, and that was it. Otherwise, sometimes he’d get a wild hare and call everyone he knew in the middle of the night. I could hear it ringing. It sounded like it was coming from the back of the house. I ran down the hall and into the bathroom. The phone was ringing, on the counter. Shit!

  “Poppa!” The house wasn’t that big, I wasn’t sure what I was screaming about…I was just scared to death. I was already dialing 911 when I caught a glimpse of something pass by outside the window. I ran over and looked outside. Poppa was in the back yard, in his night clothes and hat. I tossed the phone on the counter and opened the sliding glass doors. “Poppa, what are you doing?”

  He looked up like he hadn’t had any idea I was coming and said, “Oh, hi, Nicky…you want to help me pick these tomatoes?”

  “Sure, Pop…why don’t we do that in the morning, though. We should get some sleep first.”

  “Is it that time already?”

  “Yeah, Pop. Come on in. I’ll fix your tea and get you your medicine.”

  He followed me inside. My grandfather is eighty years old. Before my Granny died, he did everything for himself. I was still living with him up until last year, when I got my own place. Since then, he’s really gone downhill and I’ve been wondering if I should move back in. “Nicky? Where’s your Granny at this hour?”

  I had my back to him. I thought about lying and telling him she was playing bingo. I do that sometimes, when I really just don’t have the heart to tell him she’s gone. I turned and looked at his face. He looked sad and anxious. On some level, he never really forgets. “She’s gone, Poppa, remember? It’s just you and me now.”

  His eyes filled with tears and he nodded. He must have remembered on his own this time. I’m glad I didn’t lie. I fixed his tea and convinced him to take his meds, and then I tucked him into bed. He was snoring in less than five minutes. It was already almost five a.m. and I didn’t have the energy to go back to my place…besides, the day nurse wouldn’t be in until eight and I couldn’t bring myself to leave him. I lay down on his couch and stared at the pictures of myself on the mantle. If those women who were grabbing and touching me earlier tonight had seen me then, they would have just walked on by…I was invisible. Most of the time, I still feel l
ike that guy. Women hit on me a lot, but that guy still lives inside of me and he has no idea what to do with them. Besides, I’ve got way too much going on. What woman wants a guy who has to run over and check on his Poppa at four in the morning? I finally closed my eyes and let sleep claim me. For the next three hours my dreams were filled with images of Margo…naked and fulfilling all of my fantasies.

  “It’s eight thirty-six.”

  “I know, Jake, I’m sorry. My car is in the shop and I had to get a cab…”

  “Then you should have gotten your ass up earlier.”

  “I’m here now.” My head was pounding and I was starving. When the nurse showed up, I yelled at her for the night nurse not showing, but then I felt bad and apologized. Then Poppa woke up and, when I told him I had to get to the gym, he wanted to talk to me about his days as a fighter. I hadn’t had time to eat and I’d still had to go back to my place and get my gym bag. My Sunday couldn’t get any worse.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t be.”

  “What?” I had one nerve left and this motherfucker was jumping up and down on it.

  “This is all a fucking game to you. Maybe you should go home and come back when you grow up.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “What?” he had that smug “You didn’t just talk to Jacob Wright like that” look on his face. I was too pissed and exhausted to care.

  “You heard me. Go fuck yourself, Jacob.” Jacob was in my face in a flash, and the entire gym fell silent.

  “You do not know who you’re messing with, little man.”

  “What are you going to do, Jake? Beat me up? I don’t fucking care, so take your best shot. You couldn’t make my week any fucking worse if you tried, trust me.” I felt a big hand on my shoulder and I saw Brock place his on Jacob’s.

  “Come on, Jake, you don’t want to do this.”