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Authors: EM Lynley

BOOK: Dirty Dining
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“Wonder if she heard what I was sayin’.” Cathcart laughed and emptied his glass. He didn’t offer an apology in case she had.

Ron glanced over at Brice and raised his eyebrows. She’d heard all right. Brice just hoped Susana hadn’t connected Brice with Cathcart’s activities. He wouldn’t want her to know he’d been at the Dinner Club.

“Brice?” Ron’s voice cut into Brice’s thoughts. “The man wants to sign.”

“Yes, let’s just go over a few points….”

Chapter TWELVE

 

 

J
EREMY
WENT
to his lab Wednesday morning on autopilot. Despite the beers, he hadn’t slept well. He’d put all the cash back in the folder and stuck it in a dresser drawer. He needed the money, but it still felt dirty to him. Eventually he’d deposit it in his bank account, but he wasn’t ready yet to accept how he’d earned it.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket twice before noon, but he avoided checking the messages. At the third call, he turned off the vibration. After class, he walked back to the apartment for lunch, and while he waited for toast for his tuna sandwich, he pulled the phone out. Ten texts, all from Thomas. The last one:
Call me, you idiot
.

Jeremy chuckled and dialed.

“Jeremy, where the hell have you been?”

“Working in my lab.”

“Okay, fair enough.”

“What’s up?” Jeremy’s stomach gurgled, and he didn’t know if it was from hunger or something else.

“Dude, I’ve had ten requests for you already this morning. Can you work tonight?”

“Tonight? No. I’m scheduled for the lab every night this week.”

“Well, reschedule something. Everything. You’re a hot commodity, and you want to take advantage of it while it lasts.”

“I don’t understand.” Unfortunately, Jeremy worried he understood too well.

“After last night’s little performance, members are requesting you. Some of them are very keen, and they’re offering bonus tips just to get on your schedule.”

“Really?” Should he be flattered? That a bunch of rich guys wanted to get their hands in his pants? “Just for dinner? Or you mean nightcaps?”

“Dinner only. The nightcaps are up to you. I couldn’t schedule them in advance, not legally.” Thomas’s voice somehow conveyed a wink, and Jeremy tried not to laugh.

“Ten?” Jeremy’s curiosity bubbled in his gut. Was Green one of them? He wouldn’t ask, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Yes. No. Actually four more came in while we’ve been on the phone. You’ll need to decide who you want to serve, and when. Do you want to come by and check their profiles?”

“Profiles?”

“Yeah. Once you start getting requests, you get to choose, instead of it being random. Usually it takes longer for new boys to collect a clientele, but you’re already a star.”

Jeremy didn’t feel like a star. He felt like a whore. What if someone at Cal found out what he was doing? Fuck. Maybe he should look at the profiles so he didn’t end up serving a Cal faculty member. “Okay. I can come by this afternoon. Give me an hour and a half. My bike got stolen and—”

“I’ll send a car to your apartment to pick you up. Forty minutes.”

Jeremy gave Thomas his address and hung up. The toast had popped while he’d been talking, and it was cold now. He slid two more slices into the toaster and mixed mayo into a can of tuna while he was waiting. He ate, changed into a nice pair of jeans and a decent shirt, and was dragging a comb through his hair when he heard a car horn out in the street. A sleek limo waited for him at the curb. He grabbed his backpack and raced down the stairs.

 

 

T
HOMAS
OFFERED
him a drink when he arrived, and Jeremy chose coffee over alcohol. He pulled up a chair next to Thomas at the desk so he could see the monitor clearly.

“I’ll scroll through the photos and give you some information about each guy. It’s completely up to you how you choose. I don’t care. It’s important for you to feel comfortable with the clients and not feel obligated to serve anyone. If you do, then you won’t enjoy it, and the gentleman won’t either.”

“Okay.” Jeremy felt overwhelmed. Thomas had a list of twenty men requesting Jeremy, and it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since the last dinner.

The first photo showed a middle-aged man with a nice smile. He looked like he could be a high-school principal.

“That’s Mr. Chamois.”

“Is chamois a color?”

“Not exactly. He’s a member of the Leather Couch Club, an offshoot of the main dining club.”

“Leather Couch?”

“We have leather nights, BDSM-themed dinners, that sort of thing.”

Jeremy knew next to nothing about BDSM. He swallowed, but it sounded more like a gulp and echoed through the office.

Thomas turned to him. “I don’t suggest you select him, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Jeremy shook his head. “I appreciate your advice.”

“Okay. I don’t want to overstep here, but Chamois does like the Dom/sub and S&M aspects of the leather group. I suspect you’re not interested in—or ready for—that right now.”

Jeremy didn’t know how to respond. “Let’s see the next guy.”

They scrolled through ten profiles, and sure enough, Jeremy spotted one of his old professors. He hadn’t even known the man was gay, much less interested in a place like this. Such a small, perverted world.

By the end of the list, Jeremy had selected three maybes. “When do I have to decide?”

“Tomorrow at the latest for Sunday, unless you want to add any more dinners before then. I can match up your approved list with their schedules and consult you if there are two requests for the same night.”

Jeremy chewed his bottom lip. “I need to check my schedule.”

Thomas sat back in his chair and turned to Jeremy. “What’s the problem here? You have plenty of offers, and you can’t reject all of them. Not if you want to keep working here. I am running a business. I need servers who want to work and who I can rely on. I want clients to have a good time and come back. That usually is because they like a specific boy. It makes your life easy because you know who you’re going to get in advance.”

Jeremy nodded. What was holding him back? Had he really expected Mr. Green to be on the list? “Are those all the requests?”

Thomas shook his head and let out a loud sigh. “I’ll check.” He picked up the phone. “Liza, any more request for Remy? E-mail me the list.” He turned to Jeremy. “A few more. Ah, here’s the e-mail. Hmmm.”

“What? Some good ones?”

“Yes, actually. Quite a few I think would suit you well.”

“I’m sorry if I’m being picky. It’s just….”

Thomas turned back to him. “I know you’re new to this, and you’re still adjusting to how things work here. You want to be with someone who’ll treat you well. A lot of the first group to call this morning probably expect more from you than you feel comfortable with at this stage. I understand, which is why I’m helping you choose. I know each one of these men and how they’ve treated boys in the past.”

“I’m not like Kit or Rand.”

“I know. Not every gentleman wants to be with a Kit or a Rand. Some never order from the menu or take nightcaps. But others would fuck you into the table if we allowed that sort of thing.”

“Isn’t there another subset of dinners that do? The Roman Orgy Club?”

Thomas laughed. “They’d probably be popular with a certain set of clients. Maybe I’ll consider it. Thanks for the idea.”

“I don’t think I’ll sign up for that one.” Jeremy grinned, feeling more relaxed. Thank God Thomas understood what he was thinking and didn’t hold it against him.

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

 

 

T
HE
CELEBRATIONS
with Cathcart included him ordering in a nice lunch from a local sushi bar for everyone in the office. Once the food had arrived, Brice slipped away from the festivities and locked himself in his office.

Cathcart had joined the Dinner Club and asked for Remy. Brice had seen how he’d treated Kit the night before—like a piece of meat—and he dreaded how Remy would feel sitting on Cathcart’s lap with his hand on Remy’s dick the whole meal. Sure, Sky Blue had played with Remy, and despite the exhibitionist aspects of the evening, he’d treated Remy with more respect than Cathcart had shown. He hadn’t crammed his tongue down Remy’s throat or dry-humped him at the table. He’d even held Remy on his lap as he recovered, and hadn’t expected him to jump up and serve the next course.

Given the venue, such treatment was consideration. And Sky Blue hadn’t even asked for a nightcap. Instead, he had asked if any of the other gentlemen wanted to offer Remy an additional tip.

What would Cathcart do to him?

And apparently, Remy was in high demand. Maybe Brice had misjudged him after all.

Maybe.

But he wouldn’t know until he saw Remy again. He grabbed the phone and dialed the club.

“Men’s Dinner Club,” the woman answered.

“I’d like to make a reservation for dinner, with Remy please. This is Hunter Green.”

“Hello, Mr. Green. I’ll have to check Remy’s schedule and call you back with his next available date. Did you want to book a spot even if he’s not available? Would you accept another serving boy?”

The question gave Brice pause. He overheard Remy saying he was working on Sunday. Should Brice book Sunday, just in case? Could he deal with the possibility of being forced to watch Remy with someone else again? He didn’t think he could manage that.

“No, just Remy. No one else. Let me know when he’s available. I’m not interested in coming in until then.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll get back to you today or tomorrow.” She hung up.

Brice put the phone in his pocket and kicked at the leg of his desk. How long would he have to wait? He could have had Remy the night before, but in his stupidity he’d avoided him, thinking that would preclude any possibility of an attachment. Now, Brice was worse off than before. Not only didn’t he have much chance of seeing Remy again, but by the time he did, Remy would have been pawed over by a bunch of men who didn’t understand there was more to him than a gorgeous body and an innocent smile.

Brice no longer thought Remy’s charming naïveté an act. He wouldn’t be able to prove it, but he felt certain Remy wasn’t at the Dinner Club because he wanted to let a bunch of strange men take liberties with him. Maybe he needed the money, and maybe he did enjoy some of the activities, but there was something special about Remy compared to the other boys.

 

 

L
IZA
BUZZED
Thomas while they were still looking through the second set of clients.

“Yes, Liza, thank you. I’ll let him know.” Thomas put the phone down. “One more to add to the list.”

Jeremy didn’t want more choices. He wanted fewer. He hadn’t seen the one face he’d hoped to see in the second group of gentlemen. Thomas would demand he make a choice or fire him. His popularity did Thomas no good if Jeremy wouldn’t accept any of the clients willing to pay extra for him.

“I’m not sure how you’ll react. This guy isn’t interested in anyone but you. He’ll only make a reservation if he can have you.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“He’s the first one who’s given that condition. As much as the others are dying to get paired up with you, they’ll take someone else because they like coming here. That’s why I don’t mind if you reject most of them. I won’t lose any clients. But this guy is different.”

“Isn’t that kind of stalkery?”

“I’ve seen some stalkers over the years, but I would bet this guy’s no stalker.” Thomas grinned, which surprised Jeremy.

“What? Who is it?”

“Your Mr. Green. Hunter Green, officially.”

Jeremy sat up straight in his chair. “Mr. Green? But he….”

“Yes, I know.” Thomas smiled, more to himself than to Jeremy. “Are you willing to forgive him?”

The question made Jeremy pause before answering. He’d been about to say of course, and then he took a moment to consider. If Green only wanted to see Jeremy, what did that mean? Had Green been so turned on by Jeremy’s public orgasm he wanted Jeremy to himself and wouldn’t be such a gentleman this time?

Jeremy also remembered Green had watched him the night before, paying him more attention than Law. He’d barely touched Law at dinner, though he’d had the chance. But he couldn’t forget seeing Green walking upstairs with tented trousers. Clearly he hadn’t rented a room to masturbate. He’d booked Law all night. Why did that get Jeremy’s blood boiling?

Well, he wanted whatever Law had gotten. Jeremy wouldn’t deny his attraction to Green, his own desire to have Green’s hands on him and his hands, mouth—whatever—on Green. If they’d met in a bar or club, he wouldn’t have second thoughts about fucking the guy. Why question his motives when Green clearly wanted him too?

“Put him at the top of my list.” Jeremy smiled and got up.

“Do you want to serve him Sunday?”

“Yes.” Hell-fucking-yes, but Jeremy wouldn’t admit as much to Thomas. He grabbed his backpack.

“Hang on. I’ll have the car drive you wherever you want to go. But first, what’s your schedule for next week?”

“Wednesday and Saturday.”

“Okay. Can I schedule these other gentlemen you approved?”

Jeremy stopped in the doorway. “Sure.” He could always have Thomas or Liza reschedule those guys, depending on how Sunday went with Mr. Green.

He walked out to where the limo waited for him. He’d ask to be dropped off at his favorite bike shop to pick out a new set of wheels.

The prospect put him in an excellent mood.

Chapter THIRTEEN

 

 

B
RICE
HADN

T
expected to hear back from the club so quickly, so he was taken aback when he heard a familiar female voice greeting him when he answered the phone as he packed up to leave the office on Wednesday.

“I’ve tentatively booked you with Remy for Sunday night, Mr. Green. If you can’t make Sunday, he has openings on Wednesday and Saturday of next week.”

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