Chapter 113

Maybe Darian could come along. Stacy knew his mother would like the man, she hadto…who didn’t? Once she met him, she’d see what Stacy saw when he looked at Darian and she’d know he was safe. She never did like Lamar and now, looking back, Stacy thought that might have been his former friend’s only appeal. But she would love Darian, Stacy just knew it.

This early in the evening, Outlaws was more steakhouse than country music bar. Stacy kicked through peanut shells and sawdust as he followed behind Darian to a corner booth. In the half-empty restaurant, they sat as close together as they dared, Darian’s thigh pressed against Stacy’s, his hand finding any excuse to touch Stacy’s leg beneath the table. By the time they ordered, Darian’s fingers were curved along Stacy’s inner thigh, resting above the inseam of his jeans, and Stacy wondered how many beers it would take for that hand to move up to the ache in his crotch. “To you,” Darian toasted when the waitress brought their drinks.

The ice-encrusted mugs foamed with cold beer that tickled Stacy’s nose when he sipped it. “To us,” Stacy corrected. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Sure you could’ve.” Before Stacy could argue, Darian added with a wink, “It just wouldn’t have been as much fun.”

Darian ordered loaded potato skins to start with, and Stacy had another beer when the appetizer arrived. By the time the steaks were served, Stacy was on his third mug. “You’re not drinking,” he complained to Darian.

“I’m driving.” At Stacy’s slight frown, Darian laughed. “Knock yourself out, Stace. You deserve it.”

That was the only encouragement he needed, and by the time the waitress brought around their check, Stacy’s head buzzed from the beer and his stomach felt as if it would burst from all he’d eaten. Twice he tried to get up from the booth and finally had to let Darian help him stand. “You gonna make it?”

Stacy waved his concern away and stumbled into the empty table beside theirs. “I’m fine,” he laughed. Trying to lower his voice and failing miserably, he confided, “Beer makes me horny as shit, though. I could fuck a horse.” At Darian’s quick look around to make sure no one paid them any attention, Stacy added, “Just saying.”

Darian steered Stacy through the dining room to the bar, where he leaned him against a vacant stool near the register. “Just let me settle up and we’re out of here.”

The bar was open, the dance floor in full swing now that the evening was underway. Stacy felt sweat bead along the back of his neck and he tugged at the front of his shirt, suddenly burning up. Heat pressed around him, churning the food and booze in his stomach, hurting his head. “Darian,” he sighed.

His friend gave him a quick grin, then stepped into the line forming at the register. Stacy felt his face flush and a wave of nausea passed over him, leaving him sick and pale in its wake. Should’ve stopped hours ago,he thought miserably. Slipping off the bar stool, he caught Darian’s arm and leaned against his friend for support. “Darian, I gotta get out of here.”

“In a minute,” Darian said. “Let me pay first.”

Stacy shook his head. Sweat soaked the back of his hair, the collar of his shirt. “I need some air.” He felt Darian’s hand on his back, so hot in this inferno that his shirt stuck to his skin beneath the touch. “I’ll be outside.”

Without waiting for Darian’s reply, Stacy pushed through the crowd gathered around the doors and stepped into the night. Cool air swirled around him, the first hint of autumn on the wind, and the crisp rush cleared his head. He stood on the curb for a long moment, drinking in the evening, letting it move through him, clean him out. The sounds of traffic along Crater Road seemed miles away. He heard the pounding bass of loud music blaring from a passing car, a car alarm shrieking into the night, but none of it concerned him.

Another few minutes and Darian would join him. His former teacher, his boss, his friend, and hopefully soon to be his lover—the man was everything to him. Stacy could still feel Darian’s large hand on his back, the touch igniting his body like kerosene, flames of desire licking through him to coil and burn in his throbbing cock.

He stepped off the curb, staggered for a moment, then steadied himself. Darian’s truck waited a few yards away, the red paint shining like wet blood in the bright lights overhead. Stacy shoved his hands into his pockets to press against his swollen erection. Smiling faintly, he headed for the truck.