Thirst Trap (Men of Summer 4)

Whoa. Did I strike gold when I went to that club?

I’d thought I was just going to get laid. I’d thought I was just going to satisfy a spark, a connection, a dirty wish.

But this man satisfies a spark and also something I wasn’t even sure I wanted. Now that he’s said those words, I do want that. I want it from him.

I don’t mean love. We’re still learning each other, getting to see how we fit.

But so far, we fit well.

And I want to find out if we could fit together in the future.

“No, I don’t do this a lot. Also, I haven’t met anyone like you before.”

His smile reappears. “What am I like?”

“You know what you’re like,” I say, flirting again.

“No. Tell me,” he says with a laugh.

“You’re commanding. You’re dirty. You know what you want. You’re direct. And you’re easy to be around—you’re even funny sometimes,” I say, and he raises his eyebrows at the joke, but I can tell he’s not really offended. “I haven’t had this connection before. And yeah, I want to see you again too. Because I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re asking.”

Rafe presses a kiss to my jaw. “That is exactly what I’m asking. There’s something about you that drives me a little bit wild.”

I smirk and meet his eyes. “I wouldn’t say I drive you a little wild. I’d say I drive you a lot wild.”

He tosses his head back and laughs. “You’re so cocky.”

“And I’m pretty sure you like how cocky I am.”

“And I’m pretty sure you like it when I put you on your knees.”

“It seems I do. But I also like dinner.”

We get out and dry off, and Rafe tosses me a new pair of underwear. This one has a rooster on it.

I waggle the briefs on my finger. “What’s this all about?”

His eyes glint. His smile glimmers. “Some might say it’s fate. This is another of my brand-new designs. You were onto something. And I think it’s absolutely perfect for you.”

Nothing could be more perfect.

I pull on the dark blue boxer briefs, with a studly rooster covering my junk. “A cock for a cock.”

He smacks my ass. “Yes. It was meant to be. Now let’s go eat.”

Rafe makes me dinner, pours me a glass of wine, and we talk, laughing and chatting about everything from why he loves his work to why I love baseball and everything in between.

Later, still deliciously sore from the good, hard fucking, he reaches for my hand, brings me to his bedroom, and strips me down to nothing. He takes me in his mouth and he gives me an absolutely fantastic goodnight blow job, then I curl up next to him and fall asleep.

Epilogue

Rafe

* * *

I see Gunnar again the next week. After the Dragons win on Friday night, we go to the Lazy Hammock, a favorite bar of his in the city. I do a double take when Owen from the team’s publicity office is there, parked on a stool, chatting with the bar owner.

Gunnar strides up to the glasses-wearing publicist. “O, good to see you,” he says, clapping Owen on the back.

“Good to see you too,” Owen says, then turns to me. “And you as well, Rafe.”

“Same to you.”

Next, Gunnar gestures to the man behind the bar, a California surfer-looking guy with ink crawling down his arms. “River, this is my man, Rafe.” Pride colors Gunnar’s tone as he introduces me to River, and I can’t deny I relish behind called his man already. “Rafe, you already know Owen. Now you can meet River,” he says, gesturing to the bar man.

I shake hands with the guy behind the bar. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you as well,” River says.

Gunnar swings his gaze from the Clark Kent lookalike to the man at the taps, then stage whispers to me: “Owen and River are just friends but you’d never know it from the way they flirt like fiends with each other.”

Owen coughs. “Hey now.”

Rivers barks out a laugh. “Thanks, Gunnar. Why don’t you tell us what you really think?”

“We’re just friends,” Owen says quickly. Too quickly.

I sit down on a stool next to Gunnar, draping a possessive arm around him as I look to the other men. “Well, good luck with that just friends thing. We are most definitely not just friends,” I say, then give Gunnar a deep, not at all friendly kiss.

When I break the kiss, Gunnar is lust-drunk, but still able to talk smack apparently. “Mark my words. You two will be doing what we just did someday. Someday soon.”

Owen’s cheeks flush red, and he swallows roughly, then adjusts his glasses. He says nothing though.

River simply smiles, then asks what we want to drink. We order and enjoy the night out, giving these guys a hard time. Though, perhaps soon they’ll be giving that to each other.