TopGuns (8 page)

“Why the fuck didn’t I remember to shave my balls?”

The guys laughed.

“Almost five hundred presold tickets,” Jason stated. “And
speaking of nuts, make sure none of yours are hanging out. We don’t wanna look
stupid like last time.”

“I whipped my nut sac out on purpose. Those bitches weren’t
showing any love. I told them to suck it,” Anthony stated.

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m covering up as much
as I can,” Tyler stated.

The ladies were screaming so loud Tyler could barely hear
the music as they made their way onto the stage in their towels and got into
the formation. The act started and everything was working exactly as planned.

They dropped their towels and cupped their cocks
immediately. The lights didn’t go off.

What the fuck?

This wasn’t happening. No way.

One of the guys beside Tyler yelled but he couldn’t tell
which one. They stood there naked and vulnerable, frozen stiff as the cheers
turned to laughter.

“Look at that bush!”

Heat ran up Tyler’s cheeks. The lights finally went off and
the guys ran offstage as fast as possible.

Crap.

The stage had rotated and left Tyler on the opposite side of
the dressing room. He’d had to jump down off the stage and sprint around
it—right in front of the first row of girls. Tyler made a mad dash around the
stage, cupping his flaccid, hairy cock.

He was in a full-on sprint for the stage when Lamar yelled,
“Your towel and boots are still onstage.”

Dumb fucking prop guy didn’t get his stuff. The lights
turned on just as he turned back and started his humiliating run of shame all
over again as the laughter swelled. By the time he got there he realized he’d
have to let go of his dick to jump up and grab his stuff.

As he army-crawled back up his naked ass was spread apart as
he threw his leg up and over, giving the audience a view no man should ever
provide. Embarrassed more than he’d ever considered possible, Tyler jumped down
and made the run of shame again.

“Things changed when we got back from that road trip.” Jason
stretched out the tension in his muscles. Even though more than a couple
decades had passed since then he could still hear Jeanie’s voice and the slice
of guilt her words had created.

“Huh. Not sure I’m following you. You still partied. Hell, I
remember that one birthday bash Ethan threw you a few years after that. That
was sick.”

The day after that party had been a pivotal point in his
life, even though he hadn’t realized it at the time.

* * * * *

An obnoxious noise jackhammered his skull until he awakened
fully and embraced reality. A hand rested on his hip and long tendrils of
blonde hair tumbled across his pillow. It took a few moments for him to realize
the hand was on his right and the hair on his left. Translation—he had a couple
of women in bed with him and he didn’t remember how they’d gotten there.

His cock hardened as he contemplated the possibilities but
then the throb in his brain paused long enough for him to remember today was
Saturday. He was supposed to pick up Vanessa so Dan and Jeanie could have a day
out on the town.

A small part of him still ached when he saw them together
but he’d gotten past the initial bone-crushing numbness. She was happy and that
was what mattered. Dan had done a hell of a good job getting his bar up and
running. Sure, things appeared to be tight right now but Jason supposed that
was to be expected.

Not that Dan confided in him about anything. Truth be told,
they didn’t speak about much of anything anymore. That concerned him a little
bit, along with the worry he saw on Jeanie’s face every time he came over.
Something was going on Jason didn’t know about. Honestly, he wasn’t sure
whether he wanted to.

Either way it was brutally early in the day for him to think
about shit. Right now he needed to deal with the two sexy women wrapped around
him. He glanced at the clock. Eleven a.m. Definitely not enough time to do half
the things he wanted to and still make it clear across town on time.

He unwound himself from the women and headed into Ethan’s
living room. An assortment of trash, clothing and drug paraphernalia was strewn
across the room. Anthony and Lamar were passed out on a couple of the couches
with women curled at their sides.

He could climb into the shower, head out and leave the two
women for Ethan to contend with but karma was a bitch sometimes. Doing shit
like that almost guaranteed a fallout later on.

Fumbling around the kitchen, he managed to throw together a
passable breakfast and made his way back to the bedroom he’d claimed last
night. The two women awoke with a kiss on their foreheads. A blonde and
brunette.

Nice.

He didn’t try to strike up a conversation when he set the
tray on the bed between them. He took a seat in the corner of the room and
decided a bit of hydro would get him going faster than eggs. A few minutes
later both ladies were dressing and heading out.

Ten minutes later he was showered and on his way across
town. He’d be a few minutes late but he always was. Dan had gotten a house in a
nice suburb—one of those Mayberry lookalikes you see in the movies but never
had in real life. The fucker even had a swimming pool.

He wheeled into the driveway and made his way into the
house. He’d moved past the knocking stage last year. Being so formal tended to
grind on Jeanie’s nerves and he didn’t want that.

“Jase.”

A small bundle of energy slammed into his left side. He bent
down and hauled her into the air, delighting in the squeals of a three-year-old
with not a worry in the world.

“Airplane.”

Yeah she always liked the airplane. He made the requisite
noises and moved Vanessa up and down until she squealed louder, even though his
attention was drawn to the footsteps falling on the wooden floor.

He set the munchkin down and looked up. “Hey, Jeans.”

“Hey.” She hugged him but pulled away quickly. Her eyes
widened and anger flashed across her features as she shoved away. “You’re
stoned.”

“What’s wrong, Jeans?”

“Don’t.” She pushed him away when he approached. “You come
over here to pick up my daughter stoned and you wonder what’s wrong?”

“You know I’m good, Jeans.”

“What’s going on?” Dan asked as he made his way in from the
backyard. He wrapped his arm around Jeanie’s waist and Jason couldn’t help but
notice her shudder.

Guilt made him feel like a son of a bitch. He didn’t want to
make her shudder. Vanessa started crying—no doubt picking up on the negatively
charged tension now in the room.

“I was just telling Jason that we won’t need him to watch
Vanessa today. We’re staying in tonight.”

“We are?”

“Yeah, I wanted to cook you dinner. Maybe watch a special
movie.”

Dan’s grin left no doubt what special meant. Jason shook his
head. “Whatever. I’ll check you later, man.”

Dan nodded as Jason turned to make his way out.

“Wait up. I’ll walk you out.” Jeanie’s heels clacked on the
floor behind him.

Great. Just what he needed. His mind was already filled with
images of Jeanie and Dan and their special movie. He didn’t need a riot act but
the look in her gaze when she finally caught up signaled that’s what he was
about to get.

She stepped outside and closed the door. “I’m sorry, Jeans.
I fucked up.”

“You did.”

“Thanks for not telling Dan. He would’ve kicked my ass.”

She shrugged and looked back at the door. She hugged herself
as she looked at him. “It’s probably for the best we stay in anyway. Dan hasn’t
been doing too good.”

“Oh?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just that the last
thing I need for Vanessa to see is you stoned off your ass. She’s getting old
enough to understand more stuff. Until you get your shit together I can’t let
you around her. She needs a man she can rely on.”

“Jeans, seriously. I’m her godfather. I want to be there for
her and shit.”

“Then grow up.” Her voice rose slightly. “Jesus, Jason, you
aren’t twenty anymore. When the hell are you going to move on with your life
and take it seriously? Life can’t be a party all the time.”

“You really think that’s all I’m about?”

“Can you say it isn’t?”

Jason didn’t know what to say, how to respond. Anger fueled
his movements but he couldn’t tell whether it was directed at her or himself.
He turned and headed toward his truck.

As he trudged his way back to the other end of town her
words settled in his brain—a constant throb of guilt he couldn’t purge.

She needs a man she can rely on.

Damn, he wanted to rewind that conversation and ask what the
hell was going on with Dan. It was becoming clearer that shit was brewing.

But it wasn’t his business. She wasn’t his responsibility.
Vanessa wasn’t either. It was time to man up and move on with his life. She’d
been right about that much.

* * * * *

“Wow, she handed you your ass.”

“Yeah.” Jason looked over at the other side of porch where
she still sat knitting. “I think a guy needs that sort of shit, you know?”

“I didn’t know you liked your ass spanked, man. Sounds like
a personal problem to me.”

“Ha. You were the one with the weird hookups.”

“Oh yeah.” Tyler remembered those nights fondly. It’d taken
a few years to embrace the fact he not only loved sex but he loved wild sex.
The more out there, the better. From public to group to leather and all three.
He’d been ready for any of it anytime. What a hell of a way to live.

* * * * *

The crowd was thick despite the fact it was almost closing
time. Tyler watched one woman carve a path toward him through the thick crowd.
She wasn’t the sexiest woman he’d seen. Her hair was in a cute bob. Her dress
was flattering to her average figure. In essence she was utterly forgettable,
yet he sensed he’d seen her before.

He tried to remember those who’d tipped him before but there
were too many faces, too many forgettable women in a sea of sinful delights.
Despite all that, he knew he hadn’t fucked her because those women he never
forgot.

When she got within speaking distance he knelt and smiled at
her. A glimmer of amusement flickered in her gaze as it roamed his body.
Something about the intensity made his blood fire to his groin. Or perhaps it
was the fact she hadn’t spoken, hadn’t touched him. She simply stood there,
silently assessing.

“I’d say you’ve made a remarkable recovery.”

The words made his pulse race. “I’m afraid you have me at a
disadvantage, and that doesn’t happen often.”

“It’s been awhile since I saw you last time but I never
forget a face.” She stepped closer and he inhaled her delicate floral scent.
“Or a body I’d like to play with.”

“Damn. You’re making this hard on me, sweetheart. What’s
your name?” He reached to take her hand but she cut his movement with one hard
gaze.

“It’s been awhile. My friends and I were heading out of town
for a girls’ weekend. Imagine my surprise when the blind, handicapped man I’d
found so compelling was the featured entertainment the next evening.”

Airport girl. The second sentence made the oh-shit moment of
the airport turn into potential epic chaos. “It looks like I’ve been caught in
more ways than one.”

“Yes you have.” Her finger grazed his cheek as she regarded
his body once more. “The only question is what I’m going to do about it.”

She sighed as though saddled with a huge decision. Something
about how she handled herself—and him—made his dick hard. There was an
unrefined edge to her he’d enjoy.

She pulled a pen and a small pad from her purse and began
scrawling. “Be here as soon as this place closes. The longer you make me wait,
the more punishment you’ll get.” She cast a mischievous grin his direction. “I
almost hope you’re real late.”

Tyler took the slip of paper and watched her leave. Not only
did she leave him but she left the club entirely. She’d issued an order with
every expectation he’d be there. And damn if he wasn’t tempted. His cock was
still hard.

What the hell did she intend to do?

He’d been with a couple of women who liked to take control
but none of them had been that…intense. Even though he was pretty sure the
rational response to it would be shriveled nuts and a quick “hell no”, Tyler
couldn’t help but be drawn to her.

Truth be told, he liked the rougher shit. Spanking and tying
up a girl wasn’t uncommon. Girls dug the intensity he turned on when he wanted.
But he hadn’t really found a woman who could do the same thing for him and that
was what he really needed—someone who could play the mental shit just as well
as the physical.

The hotel was barely on the passable side of shady—one of
those no-tell types where you paid in cash by the hour so there was no record
of your existence. He would’ve been skewered by the ladies he hooked up with on
a more frequent basis for even thinking of this place. The fact this woman
considered this an optimal place settled southward of his gut as a dull throb.

She answered on the second knock and cast a nut-crushing
gaze up and down him a few times before stepping aside. “Come in.”

She’d changed into a short leather skirt and red bustier
that displayed her gorgeous tits perfectly. They weren’t the biggest he’d
seen—just enough to enjoy. The red stilettos did him in with the thin straps
wrapped around her ankles and lower calves. He loved the way they made her
calves look.

A quick glance around the sparse room showed three things—a
blindfold, a roll of duct tape and a black duffel bag. What the hell was in the
bag and what had he gotten himself into? “Wow, you don’t mess around.”

“Funny, you didn’t look like a chicken when I invited you
here.” She approached with a smirk on her red lips and ran a finger up his
right forearm. “I like a man who has an open mind and a playful…spirit.”

“Oh yeah?”

Her hand ran down his torso to hover near his groin. “Are
you man enough to handle that?”

He pulled her forward by the waist and inhaled the same
perfume he smelled from his richest regulars. Interesting. Aside from the
perfume, nothing else she wore hinted at wealth, which meant she probably
didn’t go around flaunting it. He liked women like that.

He harbored no delusional belief that the encounter would be
more than tonight and he knew without asking she didn’t either. The knowledge
flowed between them, knotting up the arousal and anticipation into thick
strands of need that had somehow wrapped around his dick and squeezed hard
enough to make him groan. The possessive move made him swell within her palm
and she hummed softly against his neck.

“Good boy.”

Normally he wouldn’t be good with being called boy. He
hadn’t been a boy for a hell of a long time. But the word from her thickly
painted lips calmed the agitation within him—the anxiety he always carried into
situations like these. The burden of showing the woman he was with a great time
was always a stressor early on in the encounter.

“You’re a very confident woman,” he whispered. “I like that
a lot.”

“I love to take charge, especially when a strong, equally
confident man crosses my path.” She kissed the rampant pulse at his neck. “Are
you going to let me take control of you tonight?”

“I’m all yours.”

“Yes. Yes you are.” It sounded as though she purred the
words as her hands ran over his body for a few moments before she stepped away
and sat on the bed. “Strip for me.”

She crossed her legs and appeared bored with the task she’d
ordered. The inattention made him harder as the need to please her—to make her
want him enough to make him her sole focus—kept him on task, despite her
apathy.

When he finally stood there naked, she regarded him through
half-open eyes. Her fingers tightened around her knee. The lone indication of
her appreciation eased some of his anxiety.