Focus on Me

by Megan Erickson

  The smoke rose up, thick and gray. I flipped the switch for the fan and opened a window.

  I turned off the shower and stared at the wet, black remnants of the magazine. I didn’t feel any better. I thought I would. Dammit.

  I walked back into the bedroom and spotted the magazine on the bed, the one Riley had held. I’d forgotten about that one.

  I sat down on the bed and opened it up to Riley’s ad. There he was, that sultry pout and those deep eyes. I wasn’t in public any more. I could look my fill. But then I remembered Riley saying that he had felt violated that I’d seen it. So I snapped the magazine shut and shoved it into my bag.

  It was so weird, how I was still trying to respect his wishes when he was just a person in my past. That’s what he was now, the past. And when had I started thinking of him as anything other than a person who would be in my past when I reached North Carolina?

  Chapter Nine

  I squinted up at the sign above the door. This wasn’t what I was used to. Typically I went to gay bars that were a little less flashy. Which was what I preferred, really. Not because I was trying to hide anything, but just because those were the types of places I liked—more low-key.

  I could hear the music, an echoing pound of the bass, just faintly through the door. I took a deep breath because I wasn’t sure I wanted to be here. I hated hooking up in bars and I definitely hated everything about clubs.

  But I needed . . . something. I couldn’t sit in the car by myself for hours, as I placed more and more distance between myself and the last time I’d seen Riley. I had to get over him. I needed someone else’s hands on me. I needed another voice, another breath. Anything that would start to fade the fantasy of Riley I had in my head.

  That fucking magazine.

  I opened up the door and walked into a wall of music and hot air, surely from the vast number of bodies packed into the small place.

  And packed they were, dancing on the small square of floor in front of the DJ booth, and crowded around the bar, shouting drink orders and waving bills of money.

  I almost turned around and walked back out. Almost. The only thing that kept my feet in place was the thought of sleeping in my hotel room alone and sober.

  So I walked to the bar, digging in my pocket for my wallet. While I stood in line, I checked out the goods.

  If I got to choose, I’d always go for a bigger guy—stocky with thick thighs, a bearded face, and a hairy chest. Gruff and grunty. The kind of guy who’d grab my hips hard enough to leave bruises while he pounded into me.

  I let my eyes fall closed as I imagined it. Oh God, what I wouldn’t give for that right now. An arm bumped mine and I opened my eyes.

  “Sorry,” some cute ginger said, shooting me an appraising look as he sucked clear liquid through a thin straw.

  “S’okay.” I looked around, realizing that the whole place was basically a bunch of club kids who weren’t really my type. I preferred to bottom but I was kind of particular about the guy I’d bottom for. But if I topped? Well, I was much less discriminating, and about half of these guys in this bar would do. Including Ginger Straw-Sipper in front of me, who was eyeing me from beneath his golden lashes. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking on that straw for all he was worth. Subtle, he was not.

  “I’m Connor,” I shouted over the music. I didn’t know why I gave a fake name. There was no point. Maybe because I didn’t want this guy to call me “Col.”

  He grinned, his eyes flashing like I was a spider in his web. “I’m Petey.”

  Petey? For God sakes. I couldn’t fuck anyone named Petey. “How ’bout I call you Ginger?” I gestured toward his strawberry-blond hair.

  He smiled at me, and a strobe light flashed across his face, highlighting the freckles on the bridge of his nose. Cute. “You can call me whatever you like in that accent, sweetheart.”

  I’d noticed my accent tended to be a turn-on or turn-off. No in-between, really. Glad it was working on Ginger, though.

  “Where are you from?” he asked.

  “North Carolina.” I was honest about that. Hell, it was a big state.

  He nodded his head toward the bar. “Why don’t you get your drink and then join me on the dance floor?” He didn’t wait for a response, just shot me a wink and sauntered onto the floor, swaying his tight ass in painted-on jeans. When he melted into the writhing bodies on the dance floor, I turned back around to the bar and blew out a breath.

  He seemed like a nice guy. And I was going to use him as a substitute for the guy I really wanted.

  When I reached the bar, I ordered a rum and coke, along with a shot of tequila. Dumb. Totally dumb. But I needed something to numb me a little. Jess always said I felt too much, and that was where my caretaker gene came from. I didn’t know about that. All I knew right now was that I sure felt guilty for doing something with Ginger. I felt guilty for choosing him over a guy who turned me down.

  What the hell was with my head?

  I downed the shot, relishing the burn from my throat into my gut. I knocked back about half of my rum and coke, crunching a piece of ice between my right molars.

  I could do this. I could pick up a guy in a club. I could take him back to my motel room. I could fuck him. The tequila already swirling in my gut and vaporizing into my brain blurred the thought that I might regret this the next day. That thought was fleeting, evaporating into the humid air along with my conscience. Thank God for tequila and forgetting about consequences. I threw back the rest of my rum and coke and ordered another shot and drink.

  After my second shot, I turned around and faced the main floor of the bar. I scanned it again, checking for any guys that I’d want to top me. Because damn, I could go for that right now.

  I’d never picked up anyone in a bar before. I’d always met them through friends or through work or something. But I could do this. I had condoms and I’d protect myself and I was okay. I was twenty-one. I could handle a one-night stand.

  I took a deep breath as I finished my second rum and coke. I drained my glass and set the empty on the bar, then set out to find Ginger.

  I was taller than most of the guys on the dance floor, so it wasn’t hard to crane my neck and catch a glimpse of Ginger’s unusual hair. And there he was, his back pressed to the front of another guy. Ginger’s eyes were closed, his head leaned back on the other guy’s shoulder. His dancing partner was running his hands over Ginger’s chest, tweaking his nipples through his thin tank top and running his fingers under the waistband of Ginger’s jeans. Which were bulging with a noticeable erection.

  It was hot, so fucking hot. I approached slowly, and Ginger’s eyes opened. For a minute, deep brown eyes clouded my vision, but then it cleared and Ginger’s pale green ones met my gaze.

  He smiled and crooked a finger at me. “C’mere, Carolina.”

  See, now that I could do. In here, I wasn’t Colin or Col. I was Carolina. Drunk Carolina, and I could play that role with Ginger.

  I gripped his waist and plastered myself against him, swaying to the beat of the music. Our hard cocks rubbed together through the layers of denim. The guy behind him, who’d had his face shoved into Ginger’s neck, raised his head and shot me an appraising smile. “Oh, you did find us a good one, babe.”

  Ginger licked a spot of tender skin below my ear, his arms wound around my neck. “I sure did.”

  I slowed my swaying. “Wait, are you two—?”

  Ginger bit into the skin at my neck, silencing me. He worried the skin between his teeth and I moaned. His boyfriend behind him watched, his eyes on Ginger’s mouth. Ginger released me and looked me in the eye. “Don’t worry about it. We both want you. Think you’re up for it?”

  So yeah, I was kinda vanilla. Okay, so really vanilla. A threesome was something that only ever entered my head in fantasies, never in real life. This was . . . this was crazy. But Ginger’s eyes were on me, his lips wet and swollen where he’d sucked on my neck. And his babe was hot too, a smaller Asian guy with a shock of black h
air over one eye, the other slathered in eyeliner and mascara. These weren’t the type of guys who normally did it for me, but . . . did I mention I was desperate?

  And clearly my dick didn’t care, because even this small swaying made me feel like I could come in my jeans.

  “I’m Jin,” said the guy behind Ginger.

  Ginger craned his neck over his shoulder. “You can call him Carolina. He’s calling me Ginger.” He giggled at that, and Jin giggled, too. And I couldn’t believe I was going to fuck a pair of gigglers.

  I wondered if Riley ever giggled. I bet he did for his photographer, or the guy who did his hair and makeup. Anyone but me.

  I shook my head. Because Jin and Ginger were kissing now, their tongues sliding together, their lips mashing. The light caught a flash of metal in Jin’s mouth. Holy fuck, he had a tongue stud.

  This night was looking pretty good.

  They didn’t kiss me on the mouth and I didn’t ask them to. Because both of their mouths were on my neck now, hot, wet tongues sliding over my skin, catching drops of sweat. Their lithe bodies were clamped to the front of mine. A thigh rubbed my cock through my jeans, a constant pressure that drove me out of my mind but wasn’t enough to make me come. I gripped a tight ass in each hand.

  Hands roamed my chest, fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt, running over the grooves in my abs. A palm slipped over my ass and squeezed.

  “Your body is so hot, Carolina,” Jin whispered in my ear.

  “Want us to suck you off?” Ginger crooned in the other one.

  Yes, yes, yes, yes, my dick screamed while my mind pounded its fists weakly, letting me know I should probably get out now.

  But why, Colin’s mind? Why?

  And then they were kissing again, right in front of me, while a hand reached down and stroked my dick through my jeans. It was the moment when I started cursing clothing that I knew we had to get out of here. I wanted these guys alone. I wanted skin on skin.

  When they broke the kiss, Ginger turned to me and raised an eyebrow, in a silent I dare you?

  And I accepted. Oh hell yes, I accepted.

  “I have a hotel room.” My voice didn’t sound right. Too low. And my body felt detached, like I was hovering five feet above this and watching it all unfold to a different Colin. Which maybe I was, because this was happening to Carolina. I swallowed. “Want to come back with me?”

  Ginger looked at Jin. Jin licked his lips, flashing that tongue stud. On some unspoken cue, they both nodded.

  Jin grabbed one wrist and Ginger grabbed the other and I was pulled off the crowded dance floor. Our trio got some amused glances and I definitely got more than one pat on the back. I might have been embarrassed but I was concentrating too hard on putting one foot in front of the other without falling on my face.

  That tequila was some strong shit.

  We fell out of the front of the club in a tangle of limbs, Jin and Ginger giggling while shooting me flirty, dirty looks over their shoulders.

  “I’m at the Radisson,” I mumbled, pointing down the street. Then I squinted and pointed the other way. “That way. I think.”

  Ginger started walking the first way I pointed. “It’s down here, Carolina.”

  I was pulled along again, but I glanced over my shoulder. “You sure?”

  “Positive, big guy.”

  I shrugged. As long as they didn’t take me in an alley and rob me. Oh shit, maybe that was what they planned to do. Maybe that was their game. They made out and fondled unsuspecting horny guys like me. Then they drug them into an alley, knocked them on the head, and stole their money. What if they stole my clothes, too? I liked these boots. They were good boots, with a thick sole and sturdy laces.

  Since when did tequila make me paranoid? Was that a common side affect? I might have to Google that tomorrow.

  But then, before my mind could continue on with all the ways I would be robbed and left shoeless, we were standing in front of the Radisson, Jin swaying slightly on his feet. “Which room number?”

  I squinted at them. “So you’re not going to rob me?”

  Ginger stared at me. “What are you talking about?”

  I shook my head. “Never mind.”

  “Carolina’s drunk.” Ginger laughed.

  Jin glanced at my crotch. “Looks like he can still fuck, so who cares?”

  Jesus Christ, we were out in public. I fumbled in my pockets for my key. “Uh, room five-thirty-seven.”

  I didn’t allow myself to be led by the wrists anymore. I was a grown man, plus the cool night air was starting to sober me up a little. I could walk straight and my eyes were focusing again. Jin and Ginger’s giggles were starting to irritate me, grating across my ears like nails on a chalkboard.

  But I couldn’t turn back now. They’d be pissed, surely, and I didn’t need the drama. It would be easier to come and then kick them out.

  When had I become a jerk?

  We somehow made it into the lobby, onto the elevator, and then into the hallway of the fifth floor. I fumbled with my key card in the door, Jin and Ginger kissing behind me (if that wet, sloppy sound was any indication). A finger slipped into my belt loop, tugging.

  I had my key card in the slot, but it hadn’t turned green yet when the door swung open. I realized the inside light was on, and now that beam was spilling out into the hallway, onto my shoes, and then between my legs to the two pairs of feet behind me.

  The sloppy sounds stopped. That finger in my belt loop curved around and gripped my hip. A chin rested on my shoulder as the three of us stared at Riley standing in the doorway, backlit from the light inside.

  It took me a minute to get my bearings. Because Riley was there. In my hotel room. Hadn’t he left?

  And why the hell did he look so pissed off?

  I swallowed as another chin rested on my opposite shoulder. “Well, Carolina, you didn’t say you had a friend back in your room. But the more the merrier, I guess.”

  Riley’s face changed. It hardened, and it twisted into something I’d never seen on him before as he stared down Ginger. The fingers on my hip tightened, and I knew the boys didn’t miss the waves of anger rolling off of Riley.

  “Go home.” His voice was low. So low. And said through clenched teeth. Jin and Ginger jolted.

  “Us?” Jin asked

  I didn’t look at them, my eyes on Riley. He had been looking at me when he said those two words, but I knew he’d been talking to the guys on my arms.

  “Go home,” Riley repeated, his voice no more forceful but with a demanding undercurrent that sent a shiver down my spine. And a tingle behind my balls.

  “Look, sweetie, you’re hot and all, but your man was on the prowl and—”

  Riley broke eye contact with me to stare down Ginger. He wasn’t even looking at me, but I shivered at the ice in his glare. “I’m going to say it one more time. Take your boyfriend and go home.” His eyes found mine again. “He’s off-limits.”

  Ginger took his hands off me, and crossed his arms over his chest. I could feel his gaze on my temple. “You off-limits, Carolina?”

  I could say no. I could say no, and Riley would leave. I could fuck these two guys in a hotel room until the morning. We’d have about five minutes of an awkward morning-after and then I’d never see them again. I’d go home to cook barbecue, and I’d jerk off at night to the memories.

  I stared at Riley’s brown eyes, a clear challenge in them. His posture was different than any way I’d see him before. He looked . . . bigger. Stronger. All man. I could say yes. I could say, I was off-limits. And I could take the chance that Riley would kiss me. That he’d touch me. That he’d wrap those long fingers around my cock and stroke and stroke. That he’d watch me with those big brown eyes as he took me into his mouth and back into his throat.

  God, it was so real in my head.

  Of course, he could curse me and leave me with a raging hard-on, too.

  But he was back. He was back in the hotel room, and he said I was
off-limits. I wanted to ask if he was laying a claim. There was something about the set of his shoulders, the way he gripped his thigh with white fingers, that told me he was.

  I swallowed despite my dry mouth. And I said, “Yes. Yes, I’m off-limits.”

  Then Riley reached out, grabbed my wrist, pulled me into the hotel room, and shut the door in Jin and Ginger’s faces.

  Chapter Ten

  Riley’s eyes were fire, smoldering amber embers crackling under the surface. He pushed on my shoulders, and I let myself be backed up against the hotel room door. Riley leaned in, his chest brushing mine. “Do you want them?”

  I didn’t answer his question. “You’re back.”

  He flung his hand out to the side. “Do you want them?!” He shouted in my face.

  I leaned in, baring my teeth and shouting back. “No, I want you, but you turned me down!”

  “So you go out and find two guys to fuck in front of me?”

  “You left,” I snarled.

  “I was coming back!” he yelled, then softly added, “I was always coming back.”

  His breath was hot on my face, smelling faintly of spiced rum¸ and I guessed I wasn’t the only one who spent time with the Captain tonight. He was gorgeous when he was pissed off, his cheeks flushed, his eyes bright, and his jaw set. His hair was grooved, like he’d been running his fingers through it. And when I glanced down, I could see that he was as hard as I was, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. He was barefoot, one set of slender toes between my boots.

  “Why’d you come back?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

  He licked his lower lip, the underside of his tongue running across the ridges on the surface. I wanted that to be my tongue. I wanted to feel those ridges when I kissed him, when those lips rasped over mine. He took his bottom lip and sawed his top teeth over it, abusing the skin. I reached up and gripped his chin, pressing below his lip until it popped out between his teeth.

  He met my gaze and blinked. “Because you’re the first person in a long time to make me feel anything. And because I want you.” His voice was barely a tone, just a series of sounds skating up his throat. I hadn’t realized how badly I wanted to hear those words, said in such a desperate, pleading way. And not just from anyone, but from Riley, with his eyes locked on mine while my fingers gripped his chin.