Boy in the Club a boy & billionaire novel - Rachel Kane Page 0,4
don’t want to think of my best friends having sex. I have to assume they’re playing whist or charades or something.
The men are a jumble. Tall, taller, slim or giant. I don’t want any of them, I want to go home, and I can’t even tell Daniel and Hawk I’m leaving. Where are they?
That’s what I’m thinking, when I see him.
He’s not one of the men. Not one of those men. He’s circulating through the room, carrying a tray laden with drinks. Men nod when they take a scotch from him, but they do not speak to him. He’s clearly not on the market.
Except he might as well be. I hadn’t even noticed the waiters before, bare except for their little shorts. They’re not model-perfect like the rest of the men. This guy is wearing a loincloth. It leaves nothing to the imagination…except that it sparks the imagination, makes you wonder what’s under there.
He’s one of the smallest guys in the room. Slimmer than the others. He seems too young to be serving drinks. He’s not a model. Like everyone else here without a shirt, his chest and shoulders are perfectly smooth, and in this dim light, they seem to glow.
But what catches my eye is the scar.
It starts just beside his right eye, and travels a nearly straight path down to his jaw.
It has a partner down on his chest, a nearly perpendicular line, higher on the right, then dropping until it’s about halfway down his left pec. Just above the nipple.
I don’t mean to stare, even if staring is essentially all I’ve allowed myself to do here. But such an imperfection in a sea of perfectly jacked bodies is like stepping on a sharp fractured shell on an otherwise smooth beach. I don’t mean that he is causing me pain. I mean he has my attention.
You’re taught in school, in business, that your decisions mean everything. When you have enough money, all these decisions help shape the world. They train you in that, so that you see yourself as this powerful nexus of free will, capable of anything, a mastermind.
Which leaves me totally helpless when I realize a decision has been made for me.
As it has been now.
Because I can’t stop looking at that scar.
All these men are shaved, but this boy has had to be careful of that line on his chest and cheek. I can see the faintest outline of stubble above and below the scar. It’s not easy to see. You have to get close to see it, and suddenly I realize how close I am.
Glancing up, I take in that he is watching me back. His eyes are all but unreadable in these shadows. I imagine they are soft eyes, thoughtful. I like a man who reads, who thinks, who doesn’t just lounge and go to the gym. Maybe this is the wrong place to find a man like that. Of course it is, this is nothing but masturbation, this is a brothel, just free, no cost but your soul, infinitely higher-toned, with its false air of sophistication.
His breath is soft, and it moves his chest almost imperceptibly. If I weren’t right here, inches from him, I might not see it. I don’t remember when I got mere inches from him. I don’t remember moving this close.
He’s interesting.
Worse than that, he’s standing still, letting me look, like it’s his job. Which makes me feel like shit, yet I can’t stop. Doesn’t matter how awkward it is.
He’s holding the tray towards me. I take one of the offered glasses, and throw back a drink faster than I should. I lost count somewhere back there, but I know I’ve had nothing to eat tonight. The alcohol’s already hitting.
Second thoughts coil around my brain. Wasn’t I leaving? Wasn’t I going to call the limo back here and go home, and tomorrow, when Hawk and Daniel drop by to brag about their conquests, I’d let them rib me over my cowardice?
Or I could stare at the waiter all night.
Where did you get that scar? There. That’s my task for the night. I will take him back to another room, and once the door is closed, I will sit down, rub my eyes, and ask him about the scar. And it’ll be a story, if nothing else.
I don’t know how to ask him to do that.
I point behind him, at one of those dark hallways this place seems to be full of, the one where Hawk disappeared with his