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Authors: Cheryl Dragon

Tags: #Male/Male Erotic Romance, Gay

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BOOK: Hot Bouncer
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Peter released Nash’s erection. “You don’t like it?”

Was he kidding? Nash grabbed Peter by the back of the head and nudged him down where he belonged.

The chuckle from Peter only made Nash more determined to finish before he was caught. Lifting into Peter’s mouth, he felt every one of Peter’s moans and sighs. Peter deep-throated Nash again, and the vibrations snapped his control for good.

He tried to pull out, but Peter gripped his dick at the base and held him. Peter sucked and teased until Nash cursed and shuddered as the orgasm hit. He came and looked down just as Peter glanced up. The smile on his lips extended Nash’s climax as he watched the blond stripper swallow that cum eagerly. It was unreal. Better than any sex or fantasy he’d ever had.

Peter stood up and pressed his body to Nash’s, licking his lips and clearly out for more. He kissed Nash’s neck and finally claimed his mouth. The bouncer was in a daze of lust and relief.

Nash’s need only half-fulfilled, he had to even the score. First he closed his pants and pulled his shirt back down. Just as he was about to kneel and explore Peter’s body, the music stopped. The men were taking their bows.

“Ran out of time.” Peter smiled.

The applause went on and on so Nash leaned down and kissed Peter hard, claiming his mouth and tangling his tongue with Peter’s very nimble one. Nash pulled back before the men flooded backstage.

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Peter wasn’t in a hurry to leave. There was so much going on he could barely sort out his thoughts. He wanted more of that bouncer, and Nash seemed ready for it. Interruptions! Nash didn’t strike Peter as the type of man who opened up easily, and Peter hated to lose the moment. Still, he had to remember there was a world beyond the bedroom Peter wanted to lure Nash into. The other guys were concerned about the stalker situation, and he needed to make sure they knew he was fine. Most of the dancers checked on him as they dressed and left.

As usual, Ken went out to talk with Avery. Peter followed and felt Nash on his heels. “I’m ready when you are.”

“I’m not going to live in fear and hide from a drunk guy.” Peter shook his head.

“You got a fan,” Avery said.

“Please tell Nash this happens. Nothing new.” Peter sat at the bar.

Avery nodded. “It’s true. It happens now and then. Carl is handling it aggressively.”

“He rushed the stage,” Nash said.

“It’s a strip club. Half the fans will be at that stage with cash in hand at some point during the night. You did the right thing. He was plastered, but if you ban every person who drinks too much one night or gets too enthusiastic, we don’t have a crowd.” Ken smiled.

“This one didn’t get the message last night. Be careful,” Avery said.

Peter looked over at Nash. The chemistry still sizzled. “Nash will keep me safe. I should take him out to dinner for a thank you.”

“I don’t need any gifts for doing my job.” Nash glanced at the door.

“You in a hurry?” Avery asked Nash.

“No, I just don’t want Peter to let his guard down.” Nash took a seat at the bar.

Carl came out from the office. “He won’t be allowed in again. Are you okay, Peter?”

“He didn’t touch me. I’m fine. The guy probably just got drunk,” Peter sighed.

“Two nights in a row isn’t something to ignore,” Carl said.

“We don’t want to scare away the customers.” Ken folded his arms.

“Drunk jerks harassing the talent also scare away the good customers. It ruins the mood and puts off the newcomers.” Carl shook his head. “He won’t be allowed in the club anymore.”

“Thanks.” Peter shook Carl’s hand. “Hopefully, the guy will find another club.”

“Okay, let’s call it a night.” Ken yawned. “I need my beauty sleep.”

“There aren’t enough sleeping pills in Nevada.” Avery turned out the lights on the bar and headed for the door.

“Don’t worry, Hunter will be in tomorrow just in case. Extra set of hands doesn’t hurt. Hopefully, all is quiet. Night. Nash, you’ll lock up behind you? Everything else is secure, just the front door and set the alarm the way I showed you. Okay?” Carl asked.

“Sure. I’ll walk Peter to his car.” Nash nodded.

“Thanks.” Carl walked back to the office and grabbed his stuff.

Peter watched Carl and Hunter walk out. Alone with Nash, Peter moved right into his personal space and had Nash’s back to the bar. “Please don’t act overprotective. Avery and Carl are bad enough.”

“I’m protective because it’s my job. It wasn’t personal. You don’t have to take me out to dinner or anything. If you have everything, let’s lock up, and I’ll walk you to your car.” Nash nodded.

Peter hated people lying, and Nash wasn’t being totally honest about stuff not being personal. Nash’s eyes were inspecting Peter’s body. In his own jeans and tan T-shirt, there wasn’t much to see. Nash could deny the attraction all he wanted, but Peter wasn’t buying it. He kissed Nash and pressed to his hard body.

Strong hands grabbed Peter’s upper arms and lifted him off the ground. “I’m not messing up this job. I’m not looking to get involved. I haven’t been out of the Marines six months. You don’t want to get mixed up with me.”

Peter nodded, and Nash set him down.

“Fine, I’ll grab my bag, and we’ll get out of here.” Peter wasn’t done, but there was no way he could win in a physical competition.

* * * *

This was supposed to be an easy job. No stress, no personal involvement, and no big commitments. He’d wanted a security job at a larger and more normal company. It was too soon to form serious connections and care about people. He’d lost too many friends overseas and never got to say goodbye. More pain would be too much to handle. But hiring was still tight. He didn’t want to go anywhere else; he felt at home here and loved the desert. After the action in the desert overseas, he needed to be able to walk out into the peaceful world of cacti and lizards. He couldn’t explain it, but he didn’t want to leave Vegas.

How his life had changed. A year ago, he was fighting for his life and serving his country. Now, he was bodyguard to a ballet-dancing stripper. Nash felt as if he were in a dream that made no real sense but felt right. He actually liked his job, and Peter’s tight body and flirtatious manner tempted Nash deeply.

There were only two cars left in the parking lot. Nash’s beat up Jeep was a space farther away than Peter’s little Nissan sedan. Nash watched for any movement. Robbery was a chronic problem near the Strip. People lost money in a casino and got desperate. The odds of that customer sticking around were slim, but, this late, anything could happen.

“Why don’t you follow me home, I can feed you at least.” Peter smiled.

Nash wanted more than food, but he just shook his head. “That’s not necessary. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Peter opened his car door, Nash saw a figure move in the shadows right behind the building. There was nothing but dumpsters back there. Nash stepped in front of Peter, and a dark-haired creep slammed into him.

Something gleamed under the motion sensor lights. Nash focused on the knife in Terry’s hand as he tried to bring the attacker down.

“Nash! Oh God!”

Nash twisted the attacker’s wrist until he dropped the knife, then kneed him in the groin. The man fell, but when Nash went to pin him, the guy wiggled free and ran back to the dumpsters. The sound of a motorcycle made Nash curse. The asshole sped off into the night.

“You okay?” Nash asked.

“I’m fine. Are you okay?” Peter dusted Nash off.

“We should call the police.” Nash reached for his phone in his back pocket.

“No, come on he’s gone. They already reported him once tonight. We can’t even prove it’s him. The security cameras are inside and at the doors, not on the dumpsters.” Peter sighed.

“They need to add one. I’ll call Carl.” Nash nodded.

“No, please. I just want to go home. We’ll bring him up to speed tomorrow. Can you just follow me?” Peter asked.

Nash frowned at the illogical reaction. “This man is after you.”

“I know, but they won’t catch him tonight. He’s probably pissed they called the cops. If it calms down, he might go away. Then again, he may have followed me home some other night. He might know where I live.”

His options limited, Nash reviewed them. He could file a police report because he was attacked, but he didn’t have a scratch on him. Nor was there video footage or proof beyond the knife. Nash picked up the weapon and shook his head. “I’ll follow you home, but I’m telling Carl all of it tomorrow.”

 

Chapter Four

 

 

The sight of Nash in his Jeep parked next to Peter was a relief as he exited his sedan in the parking lot of his apartment building. Peter hadn’t seen any motorcycles on the ride home, but he hated the fact that he’d been looking for them. Terry had crossed lines, and while Peter didn’t want to make a big deal about it, he appreciated that Nash got out of the Jeep and followed him into the building and up the stairs.

Peter hated the conflicting feelings about Nash. As much as he wanted any excuse to spend more time with the sexy bouncer, Peter had to believe Nash was only doing his job. The attraction was clearly mutual, but Nash might not be interested in more than sex. Regardless of the rest, Peter wanted to be safe, and Nash was the man for that job.

“Thanks,” Peter said as he opened the door to his place. “All safe.”

“Good. Hopefully Carl can do something to secure the area at work.” Nash nodded.

“I wanted to ask you something.” Peter waved him in.

“What?” Nash stepped inside and closed the door.

Peter got the feeling Nash was more paranoid about the stalker than interested in joining Peter. The guy was too good to be true. He kept his distance when most big, sexy gay men tried to show off their muscle.

“Would you be interested in a side job?” Peter flipped on the lights and put his bag down.

“Like what?” Nash folded his arms.

“Protection for me. Drive me to and from the club, just for a couple of days. That stuff tonight was serious, and while I’m sure it’ll go away…I’d feel better with you. Carl probably won’t panic as much if we have that arrangement, as well. I don’t want them to pull me off the schedule.” Peter also craved being closer with Nash, but he’d save that for action instead of talk.

“Can you afford it?” Nash asked.

“Dancers get paid better, and the tips can be pretty big. It won’t be much, but you’re going there anyway. Fifty bucks a day?” Peter threw out a number.

“Sure, I can use the cash. You should just report it to the police now,” Nash said.

“They won’t protect me. It’s just paper. This is the practical move. Just as you should consider being a dancer. More money and tips. Plus, a good workout between performances and rehearsals.” Peter smiled.

“I’m not a stripper. I’m sure there are plenty of young men eager to take their clothes off for money here. Security is what I do. What I’m good at.” Nash took a half-step toward the door.

“You think you’re better than me, I get it. Military man. Discipline, security and all that. It’s great. It’s you. I like it. You don’t know who I really am yet. I’m about dancing. That’s my whole life. If it weren’t for a damn ankle crack, I’d be on a stage in New York or part of a touring ballet company. I was one of the best, and I’m still dancing. This might not be the dream, but there are a lot worse places. The guys are good, and the owners care about safety.” Peter turned his back on Nash. He’d hoped the night would take a different turn, but the mood was broken. Spilling his guts and past wasn’t in the plan, but there was nothing like safety worries to make one feel vulnerable. “Thanks for the help. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You are amazingly flexible,” Nash said.

Peter’s face felt hot, but he refused to look at Nash. “Men like that. It’s okay, you can go. Just pick me up tomorrow, and I’ll be safe. I can pay you in advance if you want.”

Nash paced nervously and nodded. “You’re an excellent dancer. I’m not. I don’t want to learn your routines or go naked. I wasn’t trying to insult the place. I need the bouncer job, and I like it. Carl is direct. Ken and Avery are odd but somehow reliable. Are they a couple?” The whole speech came out as a rapid-fire admission equal to Peter’s.

“Don’t ask.” Peter chuckled.

“I see.” Nash put his hands behind his back as he walked over to Peter. “I’m no judge of talent, but you’re great at what you do. I just don’t have a desire to be on stage. I appreciate the suggestion.”

“Carl mentioned it, too. You have a unique look. That military thing could be hot on stage. We need to keep the show fresh to keep the crowds coming in. Vegas is cutthroat competition. And if you can use money, it was just an idea.” Peter sat on his sofa and handed Nash a stack of money. “Three days protection in advance.”

“I don’t need you to pay up front.” Nash wasn’t desperate for money. He lived simply and didn’t want Peter’s pity.

“Take it. Then the business crap is done.” Peter shoved it in Nash’s hand.

He pocketed the money and nodded. “Fine. Look, I know dancing is what you do. Naked or not. They all say you’re the best.”

Peter laughed. “Who said that?”

“All of them. Hunter. Carl. Avery. Even Ken and I get the idea he doesn’t compliment people very often.” Nash sat down next to Peter without being invited, but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“That is a compliment. Ken is a great dancer. Just hope he doesn’t break a hip.” Peter grinned.

“That’s rough. He’s not that old, is he?” Nash asked.

“Not old, but for a dancer, he’s pushing the limit. He’s in good shape, but if I were him, I’d find another day job. Ken is a dreamer. He still thinks Prince Charming will ride in on a white limo and take him away to a mansion in the hills.” Peter sighed.

“Dreams can be scary. I’m sorry yours was ruined.” Nash looked down at Peter’s ankle. Peter had kicked off his sneakers, and the scars were obvious even through the supportive tape.

“Shit happens. You could’ve gotten killed in the Marines. I just broke an ankle, not my neck. I’m still dancing.” Peter sighed and finally looked at Nash. “What are you still doing here? We made the deal. I’ll be fine. I’ve been doing this a while, and crazy fans get the message and go away. Or they get arrested for being really over the top, but I don’t get those sorts of fans. So, a few days of bodyguard work, and you’re off the hook. I promise.”

BOOK: Hot Bouncer
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