Remember your bodies crushing together—remember your first grind?
Tonight Raider craved someone to assuage the ache in his loins and Blaze St. John certainly fit the bill.
Raider Ridgeway saw the gorgeous man enter the bar and figured what the hell. One night with the stranger would help him unwind before he left for a scheduled shoot in Las Vegas. It had been long enough, and as his assistant so eloquently put it—he needed to get laid. Five months of non-stop, globe-hopping photo shoots and whacking off had left him with a sore dick as well as raw nerves.
Normally, he’d spend a couple hours at the bar, occasionally he would talk to someone getting to know a little about him, but then he left alone. That wasn’t the case tonight. Raider had something special in mind, something he hadn’t done in months that didn’t involve leaving the parking lot unless he wanted to.
What Raider didn’t count on after leaving Blaze standing alone in the dark lot was his inability to forget the man and it went from bad to worse when he looked up from a hand of poker and spied the pretty white man watching him from across the room.
Free – PICTURE THAT under the Free Read tab.
Reaching the lobby he headed straight for the jewelry store where he found Davis supervising the clean up and packing of Ridgeway Corporation supplies.
“Raider, Matthew insists you join him and a guest for dinner after you wrap up tonight.”
“Yeah, yeah, where’s B. S. John?”
“You mean Blaze?” His assistant squinted. “Did you need something?”
“Is he here, or not, goddamn it?” Heads swiveled in their direction.
“Keep your voice down.” Davis peered around. “You’re not in the streets of God knows where, Raider.” He feigned straightening his tie. “What is the matter?”
Sweeping hands over his face, he breathed deeply, and then expelled the air. “I need to find him.”
So as not to upset Davis’ insistence on decorum, Raider whispered, which still came out in a low growl. “Stop gaping like a jackass and answer me.”
“He changed and left with a friend of Matthew’s from the gold refining company.”
“Muscular build, dark hair?”
“Yes, handsome older man. I believe Blaze said they were going to have a late lunch in his room.”
“Thanks.” Raider pivoted and raced back out the door heading for the concierge desk where, once he arrived, he demanded Blaze’s room number.
“Sir, if you wait one moment, we’ll call Mr. St. John.”
“Give me the number.”
“That’s against policy, if you wait right here…”
“Fuck you, where’s Terry?” He had played poker with the head concierge for years.
The employee picked up the phone and spoke quietly into the mouthpiece before telling Raider, “He’ll be right out, sir.”
Jesusfuckingchrist, you’d think he tried to gain entrance to the vaults at Fort Knox.
“Ridgeway. Missed you the last time you graced us with your presence.”
“Terry, I need the room number of one of my models.”
“No problem, who?”
“Blaze St. John… Wait, B. S. John is probably how it’s reserved.”
Terry logged onto the computer and within seconds, Raider had what he wanted. “I owe you one.”
“I’ll catch you at the poker tables tonight.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Raider yelled over his shoulder on the way to the nearest elevator. They all went to the twenty-fourth floor and it didn’t take long to find the room he looked for. Catching his breath, he knocked briskly. Nothing. Bang! Bang! Still nothing. Pounding the door, he yelled, “Blaze?” A couple walked by and peered at him strangely. “What are you looking at?” Fear lit their eyes and they scurried away, bringing Raider to his senses. What am I doing?
Leaning against the door, he sucked drafts of air into his lungs. Highly unlikely a friend of Matthew’s would be stupid enough to do something crazy. Raider walked away, laughing nervously. “Like I just did.” Okay, he’d slipped off the deep end for a minute and thank God, no one who knew him witnessed his decent into crazy land.