“No man is one hundred percent straight,” Rory informed his brothers. “That’s a fact.”
“That’s your dream, Rory,” Noah had laughed. “Stop projecting.”
“That’s my reality. I’m just waiting for everyone else to catch up.”
Pushing open the bathroom door, Brady shared a quick, awkward glance with a bearded hipster in a bow tie washing his hands. Then he looked at himself in the mirror. He could use a little of Rory’s confidence about now. This was the first job he’d ever had that was all about being attractive—in this case specifically to Cal Grimes. It was disconcerting, and it made him think about himself in an entirely new and uncomfortable way.
He genuinely didn’t get Cal’s interest—well, except for the physical desire, but he was working a lot harder than he had to if sex was all he wanted. Cal wasn’t bad to look at and he had a good job. Half the bar would probably be up for a quickie in the parking lot if he asked them.
But he’d set his sights on Brady, who didn’t mingle, didn’t enjoy talking politics, and who’d rather grab a cheeseburger and watch a baseball game than dress up to eat a plate of nothing that cost more than his monthly bills. What was it the lusty Cal saw that he liked?
Whatever it is, Ken sees it too.
Brady took a closer look. He had blues eyes, the same as pretty much everyone in his family. He’d gotten the auburn hair from his mother, a strong jawline from Sol, and his maternal grandfather had given him his oversized build. He had a harder look than his younger brothers, but when he laughed he sounded just like Noah.
It was strange, but that was always how he’d seen himself—as pieces of other people. A Finn. One of Sol’s boys. A Marine. But now he was trying to see himself without them. To see himself through another man’s eyes. Just Brady. He still didn’t think he was handsome in the ordinary sense, but he supposed he wasn’t bad for bait. His reflection sent him a rueful grin.
Anyway, he supposed as long as Cal liked his looks and got him in front of the people they were looking for before spiking his drink and dragging him to bed, he was doing the job Ken needed.
He’d much rather be doing something else. Someone else. He tapped his tiny earpiece impatiently when bowtie guy walked back out into the bar. Why had Ken sent him to the bathroom?
A stall opened and Brady swore in surprise when Ken dragged him in and closed and locked the door behind him. “What the fuck? I thought you were listening from the coffee shop across the street.”
“Don’t talk,” Ken ordered in a harsh whisper. “We won’t be alone for long and I need to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m ok—” Talented lips stole his breath, opening his mouth so Ken’s tongue could tangle with Brady’s. God, yes. Too long. How had he stayed away so long?
He leaned back against the door when he felt his knees weaken, and Ken followed, his fingers digging into Brady’s scalp and pulling his head down for more.
More. He would never get enough of Ken’s mouth. He wanted it on him everywhere. His hands curved around the cheeks of Ken’s firm ass and squeezed, dragging him closer.
More.
Ken lifted his mouth enough to bite down sharply on Brady’s lower lip. A rumbling growl escaped his throat and Ken smiled. “There he is. There’s my beast. That little weasel doesn’t get to touch you.”
“Never,” Brady growled again.
Ken’s hand pressed between their bodies and Brady felt him undoing the buttons of his jeans. “Tanaka…”
“Finn,” Ken echoed teasingly. “Just a taste, that’s all. To keep you on your toes and clear all that flattery out of your head.”
Strong, graceful fingers wrapped around his hard shaft and he moaned raggedly. “Here? In the fucking men’s room of a gay bar?”
Ken snorted. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done this before. Never met a sexy stranger in a bar and ended up just like this, getting hard on the idea that someone could walk in and hear your greedy moans.”
“Never,” Brady moaned.
Ken’s gaze narrowed in surprise, his fingers tightening around Brady’s erection as he let out a shaky breath. “You’re kidding me. What are you, a boy scout? How can you have a body like this and not want to use it?” Ken stroked him once and licked his lips when Brady gasped. “Your body needs to be used. This hard cock is begging for it. No wonder he wants it.”
“We made this date because he does,” Brady reminded him, panting. “You told me to say yes.”
Ken stroked his erection again and Brady’s hips pumped forward helplessly. “Yes to drinks and getting information. Yes to another date where you might be introduced to his special friends. But you can’t let him think he’ll be getting this. Tonight or any other night.”