“What you drinking, cutie?” Day asked the petite fake-blond.
“A hard banger,” he responded while licking his lips.
Day resisted the urge to laugh in his face, because if he did that might ruin his chance at a hard banger.
“Want another?” Day asked with plenty of pun intended.
“Wouldn’t mind at all,” he replied.
Day ordered another fruit concoction for… “What’s your name, beautiful?” Day asked.
He watched those brown eyes roll to the right before his mouth finally responded. “Mick. Most people call me Mick.”
“Sure, we’ll go with Mick. It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me your real name.” Day watched the man closely for more signs. When Mick responded to Day’s question, his eyes went up and to the right, and since Mick was right-handed, Day concluded that he was lying. Day always looked for unconscious movements people made. It was why he was such a good detective. He didn’t miss a thing… usually.
Mick giggled like a girl before answering, “It’s not that, I just don’t like to be called Michelangelo, so I tell everyone my name is Mick. But to be honest you can call me whatever the hell you want. You can also call me ready to get out of here.”
Damn. I’d probably tell people to call me Mick too. Who the hell names their kid Michelangelo?
“I might take you up on that, Mick, but do you mind if I have a couple of drinks first?”
“Not at all.” He watched Mick slide off his stool with the grace of a cheetah and attach himself to Day’s right side. “And you are?”
Mick smelled like lavender and vanilla. Day wasn't an aftershave kind of guy, but he’d take what was offered tonight. Anything to stop him thinking about the big guy that had thrown him around like a ragdoll this morning. Stop thinking about him.
Day ordered three shots of vodka and another beer. The bartender lined up his shots and he downed each one in quick succession.
“Hey, slow down, cowboy.” Mick laughed.
Day wanted to tell the man to shut up. He didn’t know his plight. He was in love with his best friend and partner, but he wasn’t loved back. Mick should be glad that he wasn’t shitfaced already.
“My name is Leo,” he finally answered Mick’s question.
Day snaked his arm around the tiny waist and let the man nuzzle the side of his neck. He could hear him taking long whiffs of his cologne.
“You like the way I smell, honey?” Day asked, already feeling the liquor.
In answer, Mick wiggled a little closer and Day let his hand slide down to that tight ass. He gave it a firm squeeze, and Mick released a quick exhale against his neck.
“You smell delicious. I want to know if you smell like that everywhere. How long you gonna make me wait, big daddy?” Mick whispered with a slight slur.
Oh for fuck’s sake.
Suddenly, Day wasn’t in the mood. Just that damn quick, Mick had turned him off. Day didn’t want lip-gloss and silly innuendos. He wanted his alpha stud. He wanted to be thrown down on the bed and handled. Day ignored the insistent whining from Mick and ordered another beer. After a couple gulps he was more than feeling a buzz. Day looked at his sports watch. 1:25 a.m. It’s now or never. He gave Mick another once-over before responding with an indifferent shrug. “Let’s go, Mick.”
Mick clapped his hands together and squealed like a pig, and it almost made Day decide he wasn't worth it. He hoped the man’s moans were a tad more masculine.
Day held Mick by the hand as they made their way through the crowd and out the front door. He gave a quick nod in the direction of the hotel, letting the bouncer know he’d be back in an hour to get his bike. This definitely wasn’t Day’s first rodeo.
He and Mick stumbled a little as they walked, and Day began to laugh to himself. He felt like an idiot. When was the last time he had to get drunk in order to fuck someone? Hell, Day didn’t even know if he’d be able to perform, because his cock was as limp as a wet noodle right now. Day turned the corner and ran smack into a large, hulking chest, startling the hell out of both him and his date.
Mick grabbed his chest. “Jesus!”
“No. God,” the gruff voice responded.
Goose bumps popped up all over Day. He didn’t need to look up; he knew exactly who that voice belonged too.
Day still had his arm around Mick when he heard the small man giggle. “Goodness you are huge. Sorry, didn’t see ya big fella.” Mick went to move them around God, but Day didn’t budge.
Day finally looked up into fierce green eyes. Holy fuck. God looked good enough to pull into the small alley and fuck him for hours. He had on black jeans and a dark gray V-neck T-shirt. His black, mid-thigh leather coat was open and Day could see the butt of his Desert Eagle at his side… and just like that… Day was rock hard.