Page 94 of Studs Up
I knew Holden was gay. There was no question. Just a few hours ago, I had my cock buried deep in his throat, and he swallowed spectacularly.
But there was this side of me that didn’t fucking care as the women flirted, and he flirted back. Laughing and buying them a pitcher of beer.
I kept my eyes on the pool table and tried to ignore what he was doing on the other side of the bar.
“You okay?” Marcel asked. No. No, I was not fucking okay. My man was flirting. I didn’t care they were women. He was mine.
“Fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You look pissed.”
“He always looks pissed,” Ramirez laughed. “It’s your turn.” I didn’t even know when Ramirez joined us. My brain was so focused on one thing that I missed him setting a pitcher of beer down on a table I was sharing with Charlemagne.
Marcel took his turn, and I watched the white ball spin and roll, crashing into a red ball. He was supposed to be hitting the striped ones.
I had such a hard time keeping my eyes on the game and not on Holden.
“Take my turn?” Marcel handed me a cue. “I’ll be right back.”
I took the cue and finished off his game. He was gone for a long time, but being able to move around the table gave me casual opportunities to watch the bar. The women were getting drunk and grabby.
Holden kept a respectful distance, but it didn’t soak up the jealousy.
Marcel returned with two fresh pitchers of beer, which was way more than we should have been drinking.
Holden caught my eye as he left the table and made his way to the back of the bar, passing under the sign pointing the way to the bathrooms.
Morales finished the game, and I passed my cue to Ramirez.
“Your turn.”
“Where are you going?” Marcel asked. “I was hoping to play you.”
“Bathroom,” I said and wove my way to the back.
Because he was an asshole, he was leaning against the stall post in the bathroom for me.
I locked the door and checked each stall.
“Flirting?” I growled.
“Me?” He asked innocently. “Why would I do that?”
“Holden,” I warned. He batted his lashes at me.
“They are women, and they are nice. They bought me a drink.”
I stalked toward him and pushed him into the wall. He went with a seductive smile.
“You bought them several drinks,” I retorted.
“Jealous?”
“Unbelievably.” He licked his lips and grabbed my shirt, pulling me toward him.
I snatched his wrists and pinned them to the wall next to his head. He gasped, and then a smile lifted the corners of his lips.
“What are you going to do about it?” He asked, his eyes raked down my throat.
