It was stupid, but he was drunk, and the words just came right out.
Sean sighed, discouraged but not defeated, and headed back over to the bar. All that dancing had made him thirsty, but it’d also drained his buzz. And with the shit that just happened? Time for a recharge.
Arriving just a few heads down from Max, he ordered another beer and a shot. That lemon drop had been good. Why not have another. His order was made and delivered in under a minute. Sean downed his shot, then grabbed his longneck and promptly began studying those around him. Of course, his gaze always ended up on Max, but he did spot a lot of other hotties, too. Not that any interested him—Max had ruined that avenue completely—but they still were very nice on the eyes.
Speaking of hotties… He glanced across the way, noticing gorgeous Scott at some table. He was talking to a guy—someone Sean had seen before at Mason—while simultaneously scanning the vicinity. Sean lifted a brow and took a swig. Scott was looking for someone. But who? The black-haired dude—who was also pretty hot—pointed toward the exit with a shrug. Scott frowned and eyed the doors, then gave the guy a nod and headed in the same direction. Sean watched him go, intrigued by his expression, until Scott vanished from sight completely.
After that, it was back to scoping out the crowd—while turning down a barrage of invites to dance. Mostly from girls, but also from guys, which was pretty much how things typically went. Unless he was at a gay bar, but he rarely went to those. Getting hit on every other minute was too exhausting.
Sean finished his beer and ordered another, then turned and nearly face-planted some dude’s chest. Not Max’s, unfortunately, but he was definitely as big, his dark brown eyes watching Sean intently.
“Hi. I’m Jack.”
Sean peered up at him. Damn. Objectively speaking, he was the hottest one yet, which was saying a lot, since he’d turned down some stunners. Tall, dark and handsome, with some highlights to boot. Impressively cut body, great smile.
“Hey,” Sean returned. “I’m Sean. Nice to meet you.”
Jack’s grin curved higher. “Likewise. Wanna dance?”
Shit. Sean actually hated to turn this one down. Would bet his ass that Jack knew how to move. Sean chewed his cheek and glanced Max’s way. Still talking to Kai. Still ignoring Sean completely. He pursed his lips, his fresh buzz going strong, and decided to finally do as Max had ordered. Dance with someone else. Fuck it. Why not. Sean had benched it long enough. Was good and drunk and ready for more fun. If Max wanted to be a moody stick-in-the-mud, so be it. His loss. Sean was over it.
Donning his best smile, he set down his beer. “Abso-fucking-lutely, Jack. Lead the way.”
Jack’s big eyes lit up, and sixty seconds later, they were out on the dance floor tearing it up. Music pulsed from every direction, Jack’s cologne filled Sean’s nose, especially when he tried to move in close. Sometimes Sean let him, but mostly he didn’t, dodging the guy’s attempts with subtle side-steps. Jack didn’t seem to mind, though, just kept on smiling, that gaze of his growing hungrier by the second.
Sean’s head swam, intoxicated, and not just from booze, but from the heady bombardment of lively sight and sound. Beams of color slicing this way and that. Pounding tempos penetrating deep. An ocean of stimuli drowning out all else.
Jack moved in close again, palmed Sean’s ass and started grinding. Sean tensed. Aw, shit. The man was rock hard. Time to re-establish some distance. Sean pried Jack off him, smiled, and got back to dancing, but that look in Jack’s eyes was growing hungrier. And Sean had no intention of feeding him. But before he could devise—let alone execute—an exit plan, Jack pulled them back together and held on tight. Sean mumbled a curse and tried to disengage, Jack’s boner back to prodding his hip. Jack’s hold was too firm, though. He couldn’t wriggle free.
Jack grinned and buried his face in Sean’s neck. “Fuck, you smell good, Sean. Feel good, too.”
Sean chuckled, still valiantly trying to detach. “Uh, yeah, thanks, Jack, but um, seriously, if you don’t mind, you’re kinda making it hard to dance.”
“Yeah?” Jack palmed Sean’s ass again and squeezed. “Well, you’re kinda making me hard.”
Fuck. Here we go. Sean scowled and gripped Jack’s hands. “Paws off my ass, dude.” He tried to pry them free.
Jack just laughed and clutched even tighter. “Aw, come on, beautiful. We’re just dancin’—Whoa! What the fuck!” All bodily contact vanished.
Sean’s heart skipped a beat—a happy, relieved beat—but then skipped another of surprise. Because standing there, still gripping Jack’s thick upper arm, was Max, green eyes blazing, jaw clenched tight.
Jack yanked at his hold. “Asshole, get the fuck off me.”