The Hookup

Easton flashed his sexiest grin before turning away. He kept his back straight, resisting the urge to look behind him to see if Grant was staring at his ass. Hopefully the guy would take the bait. Easton kept up his illusion of cool by tossing the cap back and forth between his hands, acting as if he didn’t have any doubt the sailor would follow.

Chapter 2

A few steps away, Easton hard-core second-guessed himself. Why had he walked away from the redhead like he had? He communicated for a living. As an attorney, it was his job to convince people to think the way he wanted them to think, and dammit, he was way past the point of denying how much he loved the chase. So why in the world had he left the bar area without Grant Holt in tow?

Easton knew better than most, guys who blushed the way Grant had, needed a gentle guiding hand to coerce them into being a bit naughty. He should have toyed with Grant longer, built a better sense of anticipation between them. Let their undeniable sexual tension build. Sadly, tonight there wasn’t time. People were wanting to celebrate the office’s big win. Damn, he wished he had more time. Grant’s shy reserve was just the kind of thing that did it for him. That never got old and apparently maturity hadn’t helped, a little color in the cheeks and a shy downward cast of the eyes still vanquished all his carefully honed logic.

What was done was done. He had to assume Grant would follow. Easton pulled two twenties from his almost empty money clip and folded the bills, cradling them in the palm of his hand. He didn’t carry cash like he used to, replaced by plastic these days. He kept his stride self-assured, refusing to let Grant see his uncertainty—if the sailor had even bothered to watch him walk away.

On his way to the outer hall, he passed by an old high school buddy, Tom McShane, who also happened to be the general manager. Easton reached out, easily clasping the guy’s already extended hand. Easton’s grin spread into something a little more telling when recognition of the cash and what that meant registered on Tom’s face. It had been a while, but his buddy was quick on the uptake and started to protest.

“Easton, seriously…” Tom’s grin faded, and he started shaking his head and held up a hand.

“Come on. I’m feeling nostalgic,” he teased without slowing his course to the bathrooms while reaching for his cell phone to text his assistant, Dana.

“Forty dollars. That’s it?” Tom called out behind him. Easton couldn’t help the chuckle as he typed a quick message to Dana telling her that he’d reserved tables and they’d be waiting.

As for Tom and the forty dollars…well, Easton wasn’t quite the baller he used to be. He hadn’t planned for this opportunity to fall into his lap this evening. Sailor Grant was an unexpected treat indeed. Tonight, Easton had several credit cards, two twenties with a handful of one-dollar bills, and a peppermint in his pocket. Correction, Tom now possessed the twenties.

Maybe he should have tossed in the candy to help sweeten the bribe. He chuckled at the thought even as the butterflies in his stomach fluttered nervously. He hadn’t done this in a while, and he wasn’t as smooth as he’d once been. Hopefully the sexy sailor wouldn’t mind.

He pushed through the first single use co-ed bathroom door he came to and looked around. This was perfect. There were two bathrooms available on this end of the building. If Grant followed, he could lock the door from the inside and they would be completely alone—albeit, they’d have to be quick. Easton lived for these exhilarating moments of heated intensity. Sure, he’d have to speed things along or Tom would have his ass for taking one whole bathroom away from a bar full of drinkers, but he was certain he was up for the task.

Easton shrugged off his suit coat, hung it on a hook. Grant’s cap followed then he rolled up his dress shirt sleeves, just like old times. A smile tugged at his lips. Sometimes he missed the good old days. Why he’d ever stopped doing things like this was beyond him. The anticipation and excitement had him praying the sexy guy would be stepping through the door any second.

Why did it feel like every eye in the room focused only on him? And why did he care? What the hell was wrong with him? Grant squared his shoulders and lifted his head, tired of the dark cloud trailing after him everywhere he went. He’d come here tonight in hopes of chasing away the heaviness that had settled over him.

Even with the internal man-up effort, Grant knew where this latest round of hesitation came from. The innate give and take going on inside his brain that always had him overanalyzing every decision he made. Tonight, the struggle came from the very reasonable understanding that having sex in a public bathroom was probably a crime in every state and most likely punishable by jail time. The knowledge didn’t slow his steps toward the bathrooms though. No, this kind of excitement was exactly the reason he was here tonight. He’d be quick. Gratuitous sex never took too long anyway.