Hunger (Chicken Ranch Gentlemen's Club Book 1) (10 page)

Killian kept pumping Declan's cock until it sagged and finished drooling. Then he closed his eyes, shoved deep one last time, and let go. Shivering through each mind-numbing shot his balls fired, Killian held Declan tight and silently suffered through wave after wave of nearly painful pleasure. Three little words replayed over and over in his mind, where they would remain until he was sure of their welcome. Now certainly wasn't the time to say them.

With more than a touch of reluctance, Killian wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock to hold the condom in place and slowly eased free of Declan's clinging channel. Declan shivered and pulled himself upright to lean against the wall, though he didn't turn to face Killian.

"Are you okay?" Now that the endorphin rush was over, Killian worried he'd hurt Declan.

"Fine." Declan glanced back over his shoulder. "Do you think you could get me a towel or something? I made a mess on the wall."

"Yeah. Sure." Killian left Declan standing in the living room. Once in the bathroom, he got rid of the rubber, gave himself a hasty cleanup, and snatched a fresh washcloth for Declan on the way out of the room.

Declan was still right where Killian had left him. Instead of standing, he squatted against the wall. The moment he saw Killian, he rose to his feet.

Killian stopped a few feet away. A sudden fear that Declan would now leave overwhelmed him. He wasn't ready to let him go yet. Stalling for time, he said, "Why don't you go ahead and take a shower? Help yourself to whatever you need. I can clean up out here."

"All right. Thanks." Declan brushed past Killian and disappeared inside the bathroom.

A moment later, Killian heard the shower turn on. He pulled himself out of his funk and set about cleaning up the wall. After he finished, Killian picked up their clothes. He folded Declan's and set them on the end of the couch. He put his sweatpants back on and sat down to wait.

His mind circled around and around, coming up with one reason after another why Declan should give him another shot. Then he realized that none of them mattered. The amount of money he made was of little importance, neither was the size of his dick or his ability to eat Declan's ass until he came.

If Declan wanted to leave the moment he came out of the bathroom, there wasn't a damn thing Killian could do about it. He'd already apologized and explained his actions. He was not going to grovel for forgiveness.

Declan finally came out of the bathroom several minutes later. His pale hair was combed back away from his face, his skin scrubbed shiny. A thick blue towel was slung low across his hips.

"Feel better?" Killian tried not to ogle the younger man as he picked up his jeans and slipped into them sans underwear.

Declan buttoned his pants. "Yeah. Thanks."

"So, what happens now?"

"Honestly…" Declan tugged his shirt over his head and then sat down beside Killian. "I really don't know."

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Declan. I just didn't want you to think I was using you in some fucked-up attempt to get laid for free."

"I know that, but…" Declan abruptly cut off midsentence and wrenched a hand through his hair, making the wet strands stand up in white-blond peaks all over his head.

"But what?"

"I'm not sure I can date someone who only sees me as a whore."

"What? I don't see you as whore, Declan. What you do for a living doesn't make you who you are. I may not be in love with the thought of what you do, but I wouldn't hold it against you."

"Do you mean that?"

"I wouldn't have said it otherwise."

Declan looked away, his teeth biting into his lower lip. Silence filled the air with palpable tension.

Curiosity churned in Killian's stomach. Part of him wanted to know what Declan was thinking, and the other half didn't, expecting the worse. He remained where he was, giving his lover space and time to think.

After long, pregnant moments, Declan finally looked up at Killian with eyes a tad too bright. "All right."

Killian frowned. "All right, what?"

"If you really meant what you said, I'd like to keep seeing you."

Without a word, Killian pulled Declan into his arms and hugged him. He buried his nose in Declan's hair and breathed in the scent of his lover's shampoo, relieved Declan was willing to forgive his slipup.

Although tense at first, Declan slowly relaxed and returned the embrace. Killian pressed his lips against Declan's temple. "Thank you."

Declan looked up. "For what?"

Killian cupped Declan's jaw and kissed him softly. "For giving me another chance."

By the middle of January, after having spent a low-key holiday season with his lover, Killian began to entertain thoughts of asking Declan to move in with him. As it stood, he coasted along on the rare evenings they spent together and tried to make do. However, the longer they dated, the more he longed for additional quality time with his lover.

Sharing a home would fix the situation; all Killian needed to do was find the balls to propose the move to Declan. Unfortunately, as much as Killian cared for Declan, he wasn't sure how the younger man would respond to such a suggestion. While neither of them had used the
L
word, Killian knew he was in love with Declan. He felt confident Declan cared for him as well, although he wasn't so certain about the depth of his lover's feelings.

After much internal debate, he'd decided to broach the subject with Declan when he arrived that evening. A quick glance at the clock on the microwave revealed it was five minutes before seven o'clock. Declan was due to arrive any minute.

Killian absently stirred the pasta sauce simmering on the stove and turned off the heat. The noodles sat on the table, kept soft with a touch of olive oil. All he needed to do was toast the French bread and light the candles on the table, and everything would be set.

There was absolutely nothing he could do about the butterflies swimming in his stomach. They weren't going to dissipate until he'd said his piece and had secured Declan's agreement. He didn't even want to think about the other possibilities.

The doorbell sang through the house as Killian was sliding the French bread into the oven. He stood upright, took a deep breath imbued with the scents of garlic and tomatoes, and strode toward the door.

A quick glance out the peephole revealed his lover. Declan stood on the front stoop, more handsome than ever in a plain black T-shirt that hugged his whipcord-lean torso and highlighted his creamy complexion. His flaxen hair had grown out a little in the last week, the pale locks curling around the delicate shells of his ears.

With a smile, Killian pulled the door open. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself." Declan stepped right into Killian's personal space and kissed him. "Mm… That's better. Missed you."

"I missed you too."
So much
. Killian kissed the tip of Declan's nose and then stepped aside to let him enter. "Come on in and get warm. You're going to freeze without a jacket on."

"I'm fine."

Killian shut the door and locked it. "I hope you don't mind, but I thought we could eat in instead of going out tonight."

"Okay. To be honest, I'm not really in the mood for crowds tonight anyway. It's been a long few days. I kind of like the thought of staying in and keeping you all to myself."

A dozen hedonistic ideas played out in Killian's mind. "That sounds…promising."

"Oh, it is." Declan stretched up on tiptoe and kissed Killian's chin. "For starters, how about a better kiss hello?"

"Anything for you." Killian wrapped his arms around his lover and covered Declan's lips with his own. The younger man's tongue slipped into his mouth, barely teasing the tip of Killian's before skittering away. Killian gave chase, following every stealthy move Declan made. They danced back and forth, sharing air and gentle, slick caresses of nimble appendages.

Before long, Killian's desire for more physical contact grew stronger. The proof of his lover's need was as obvious as the erection pressing against Killian's thigh. If he wanted to be coherent over dinner, with his mind on something other than the insistent throb between his legs, then he needed to back off and gain some perspective. The night was young; they could always pick up where they left off later.

Maybe just another moment…

He'd missed Declan, and his lover's lips tasted so sweet.

The ring of the oven timer saved him from himself. With reluctance, Killian pulled away and dropped his arms to his sides. "Dinner calls."

"It smells good," Declan said, following Killian into the kitchen.

Killian pulled the bread from the oven and slid the toasted slices into a lined basket on the table. The aromatic scent of garlic and butter filled the air.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You can pour us something to drink, if you want. I'd like sweet tea, I think, but there are a couple of different kinds of soda and juice in there if you'd prefer something else."

"Tea works for me as long it's made with sugar instead of that nasty artificial sweetener stuff."

"You don't have to worry about that. The fake stuff always leaves a bad taste in my mouth." From the corner of his eye, Killian watched Declan move around the kitchen as he pulled plates from the cabinet above the stove and served up two heaping portions of spaghetti. He was probably overdoing it a bit, God knew he probably wouldn't be able to eat half of what he'd put on his own plate, but the prospect of feeding all Declan's appetites appealed to him. Something about the younger man made Killian want to take care of him almost as much as he wanted to debauch him.

Although he'd initially thought about picking up some wine to go with dinner, he hadn't known whether it was appropriate. Only eighteen, Declan still had three years to go until he could legally drink. While he didn't want to be a stick-in-the-mud, he didn't want to contribute to the delinquency of a minor either. It seemed a little strange to think of Declan that way, considering they were sleeping together, but Killian figured he'd rather be safe than sorry. Besides, he wanted Declan to have a clear mind when he oh-so-casually suggested they shack up together.

They both dug into their dinner, stopping every now and then to make small talk. Killian noticed that Declan changed the subject every time something about work was mentioned. Although he wanted to know everything about his lover, Killian was a little relieved Declan didn't want to discuss the ins and outs of his occupation. It wasn't as if he wanted to discuss his own job either. Crunching numbers did not make an interesting topic of conversation.

"Man, I'm stuffed." Declan pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair. "I shouldn't have eaten so much, but it was really good."

"Thanks." Killian wiped his mouth, balled up the paper napkin, and dropped it on top of his plate. "There's, um, something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

"Oh yeah?" Declan frowned. "What is it?"

"Nothing bad. I promise."

"All right; spill it then. Don't leave me hanging in suspense."

"I was just thinking that it seems silly for you to keep paying rent on an apartment you never see. M-more often than not, you're here when you're not w-w-working." Killian coughed, trying to clear the frog in his throat. "So, if you w-want, I thought maybe you could move in here…w-w-with me."

"You want to live together?"

Killian nodded, not trusting himself to speak clearly.
Stupid fucking stutter
. His speech impediment was going to be the death of him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He wouldn't have asked if he hadn't been sure. Nothing sounded better than having Declan around more often.

Declan bit into his lower lip. "Can I think about it?"

"Sure." Killian's spirits plummeted. "Take all the time you need."

"It's not that I don't want to, but it's just a big step, you know?"

"It's okay, Declan. I understand." Killian shoved the tiny fibers of hurt as far down inside him as he could and tried to smother them with rationalizations. Declan was a lot younger than him. It stood to reason that he might not be quite as ready to settle down. That didn't mean he didn't care.

Killian was just going to have to be patient. He could handle that.

Loud voices broke through the barrier of Declan's thoughts as he reached the bottom of the staircase. He blamed his preoccupation on Killian; his lover had haunted his thoughts all week. Otherwise he might have avoided the awkward interruption he was about to make.

A glance to his right revealed Colt and Graves locked in a heated argument. Colt's arms swung wildly, while Graves stood with his muscular forearms crossed over his chest. Declan stopped as he spied the other men, unsure of whether he should go about his business or duck and hide. The decision was taken out of his hands when Colt turned and settled his dark gaze on Declan. The other man narrowed his eyes and scowled before returning his attention to Graves. The frenzied outpouring of words between the two men was too quiet for Declan to make out, but Colt clearly wasn't happy about something. Colt shook his head from side to side, his chestnut curls bouncing around his pixieish face. He stopped abruptly, his expression thunderous, spun around, and stalked toward the front door. Colt's hands repeatedly curled into tight fists and then relaxed, as if he couldn't make up his mind about whether he wanted to punch someone or something.

Graves followed as far as the threshold of the sitting room and then stopped. "This isn't finished, Colt."

Colt froze with his hand on the doorknob. His back stiffened until Declan feared the other man's spine would snap like a dry piece of kindling. Rather than respond, Colt yanked opened the door, exited, and slammed it shut behind him. The windows rattled from the force of his anger.

Glancing back at Graves, Declan tried to figure out if he should say something. He needn't have bothered. Graves shot one last glare at the door, totally ignoring Declan's presence at the base of the stairs, and stormed off in the opposite direction.

Declan breathed a sigh of relief and continued on his way into the sitting room to the left. He preferred it over the one to the right, where his boss and Colt had been arguing in plain view, because the couches were more comfortable and the atmosphere was homier than the formal sitting room. There was even a large flat-screen television, several gaming consoles, and various games, although they weren't allowed to turn on the sound for fear of disturbing the atmosphere. Predictably, the lack of accoutrement didn't stop any of them from passing the time by staring at the monitor.

As expected, Declan found Grey sitting in front of the television. He sauntered across the large room and dropped down on the sofa beside Grey, whose concentration was on dodging zombies left and right on the big screen.

"Nice move," Declan commented, watching as Grey took down a man-eating dog. When no reply was forthcoming, he looked closer and noticed the flesh-colored earbuds wedged into Grey's ears.

He sat quietly for a few minutes, watching Grey play, until his curiosity got the better of him. Then he nudged Grey's shoulder to get his attention.

Grey paused the game and removed the earbuds. "What's up, kiddo? I was just fooling around with this dumbass game. I swear, if things get any more dead around here, they're going to need to call in the paramedics to make sure I still have a fucking pulse."

"Yeah. I know what you mean. I haven't made squat tonight. Ricky seems to be doing well, though."

"Yeah." Grey scowled. "I think he's on his fourth client tonight. Everyone's who has been in tonight was looking for a cute little blond twink."

Declan picked at a loose thread on the sofa cushion, ignoring Grey's comment, since the description pretty much fit him too. "So, um… What do you think is going on with Colt and the boss man?"

Grey's thick black brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Sorry. I guess you didn't hear the big fight they were having in the other room, what with
Resident Evil
blaring in your ears and all."

"Oh, that. They've been at each other's throats for weeks now. I'm surprised you haven't noticed sooner."

Declan thought back over the time he'd been working at Chicken Ranch. While Graves and Colt had never seemed all that friendly toward each other, he'd never seen them be openly hostile either.

"So what gives?" Declan reclined back against the seat. "Is Colt in trouble or something?"

"I don't know." Grey shrugged. "I'd say they're having a big ole lovers' spat. On the other hand, Ricky thinks Colt was skimming money off the books. The little twink swears he was shorted money when he cashed out after his last shift. Personally, I think he's full of shit, but that's just me."

Declan snickered. "You have a point. Ricky can be a little brain-dead."

"You're telling me. That boy doesn't have two brain cells to rub together." Grey's smile turned wicked. "What I'd really like to talk about is how things are going with you and Mr. W-w-wonderful."

"All right now. That's not fair. Killian can't help his stutter. Besides, I think it's kind of cute, and he hasn't been doing it much lately. He says he only stutters when he's really nervous, which I think is kind of sweet."

"Calm down, kiddo. You don't have to go into protective mode. I didn't mean any offense."

"Sorry." Declan's cheeks heated. "I didn't mean to go all postal on you."

"Hey, it's no hair off my balls. So…how are things on lover's lane?"

"Things are good. Great, really." Declan bit into his lip and then released it. "Killian asked me to move in with him."

"And?" Grey's eyes widened. "What did you say?"

"I told him I needed to think about it. I'm not quite sure whether I want to give up my place or not. I haven't had it for very long." He was falling in love with Killian, but trust was a completely different matter. How could he depend on anyone not to fuck him over when his own father had no problem turning on him at the drop of a hat?

"Well, that's good." Grey nodded. "I'm glad you're being careful and thinking things through rather than jumping in headfirst."

Declan frowned. He had a sneaking suspicion Grey wasn't saying everything. The man's tone didn't match his words at all. "Why do I get the feeling there's more to that little statement?"

"Nah, not really."

"Uh-huh. Spill it. I'm a big boy. I can take whatever you have to say. Besides, I wouldn't have brought the subject up if I didn't value your opinion."

"All right, if you want advice from someone who has been around the block a time or two. I would keep my own pad, if I were you. Whores don't engender fidelity."

Declan snorted. "Aren't you just a big ray of sunshine tonight?"

"I'm realistic, kiddo. Enjoy the good times while they last and then walk before the shit hits the fan. Trust me when I say it will." Grey patted Declan's leg. "Look at it this way: The chances of a gay man finding happiness in this shitty world are slim. Add in being a whore, and you might as well forget about it. No one wants to bring home a whore to Mommy and Daddy."

"I don't believe that." Declan shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. Even as the words crossed his lips, he knew he was lying. While he could hope for the best, he wasn't sure he deserved someone as kind and thoughtful as Killian. Part of him was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Killian to realize he was too good for Declan and move on to someone else.

"Take my advice for what it is, kiddo—the words of a man who has been in this business long enough to see damn near everything." Grey's dark eyes softened. "I've seen rent boys graduate college, find sugar daddies, move on to other careers, and sadly enough, I've even seen a few of them OD. The one thing I've never witnessed is a relationship with a happy ending."