His Saint (Forever Wilde 5)

I forced my eyes around to find someone to strike my fancy while Otto took off toward where Seth stood ordering drinks at the long bar. I didn’t even need a drink at this rate. I just needed to feel a hot mouth on my cock as soon as humanly possible.

I looked around and followed my nose until I saw a man who caught my eye. There was a small but crowded dance floor in the opposite corner of the pub from the dart boards. Men moved to the music and took advantage of the small area to touch each other as much as at any crowded club in Dallas. I was pleasantly shocked at the pickup scene our little local pub had managed to create in only six months of being open. The man I’d spotted saw me watching him and smiled a knowing smile. Bingo. Target acquired. I made my way closer until my hand landed on his hip, and I began to match his rhythm. His hands grasped my sides as he leaned closer and brushed my ear with his lips.

“Are you looking for someone to throw around tonight?” he asked in a voice that sounded nothing like I’d imagined. I felt myself stiffen and looked at him, quirking a brow. He smirked. “I hope to god you like it rough because your size is really doing it for me.”

It wasn’t an unusual response to my size, but it took me off guard anyway. I looked down at the man and wondered what had drawn me to him. He was much smaller than I was, which, agreed, was my type, and he had thick dark hair that looked messy in the very best way. He was wearing a blue button-down and charcoal suit pants. It wasn’t until he tilted his face up that I realized it was the dark-framed glasses that had caught my attention. The same type of glasses worn by a certain geeky client of mine.

Fuck, was I really that obsessed?

I stood for a moment, trying to decide whether my reasons for picking that particular man really mattered in the grand scheme of things. No, they didn’t. But the fact that my dick was as soft as a marshmallow did matter.

“Sorry, man. Just looking to dance a bit,” I said. We danced for a couple of songs until I excused myself to go to the bar and say goodbye to my brothers.

Charlie looked across at me with a wide grin. “Not taking him home? That kid was cute enough. What happened?”

“I have a headache,” I lied. “I’m heading to the ranch. You guys don’t mind if I bail?”

Hudson and Otto looked at each other before glancing back at me. “Of course not. But are you sure you’re okay?”

They were my brothers, and I knew they could see right through me.

“I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow.” I turned to go and saw August Stiel walk through the door looking like a terrified bunny frozen in front of a vicious wolf.

Did the poor man have any idea what he’d just walked in on?

“Hi,” I said after quickly making my way over to where he stood. My stomach twisted in a knot seeing him so out of place and nervous.

He blinked at me, and if it was possible to look even more uncomfortable, he did. My heart went out to the guy.

“Let me get you a drink and introduce you to my brothers,” I said quickly. The sooner I could get him some liquid courage, the sooner my heart might stop squeezing from his discomfort.

“Oh. Okay,” he said quietly, looking around at all the men in the pub. “No… I should go.”

There was no way I was letting him leave like that. Even if he wasn’t gay, I didn’t want him to feel unwelcome in my brothers’ pub. I put my hand on his lower back and steered him toward the bar where I’d just said good night to everyone just a few moments before. The warmth of his body met my hand through the starched shirt, and I pressed a bit more firmly to feel more of it.

“Just stay for one drink?” I asked. “It’s on me.”

“You looked like you were leaving,” he said.

“I… well, I was, but… then I saw you.”

His eyes met mine, but before he could ask me what the hell I’d meant by that, Otto called out to us. “Back so soon?”

“Guys, this is…” I lifted a brow at him, wondering how to introduce him.

He blushed and murmured, “You can call me Augie.”

The warm rush of victory heated my skin as one tiny chunk of his defensive walls crumbled at my feet. “August Stiel, this is Otto, Hudson, and behind the bar is Charlie.”

The three of them stared at us before Charlie spoke. “Saint, love… we know Augie very well. He owns the antique store next door.”