Hunger (Chicken Ranch Gentlemen's Club Book 1) (6 page)

On the following Friday, Declan stood outside the theater on First Street and wondered if he'd made a huge mistake in agreeing to a date with a former john. Killian seemed like an all-right guy, from what Declan could remember of their night together, but he didn't know the man from Adam. It wasn't like they'd traded life histories before they'd fucked. As a matter of fact, they hadn't talked very much at all.

Going to the movies with Killian, rather than having dinner, was Grey's brainchild. He seemed to think sitting in the dark with Killian would tell Declan more about the other man than sharing a meal and conversation would. Declan still wasn't sure how Grey had come to that deduction, but he was willing to give it a whirl since there were a couple of good action movies out that he wanted to see anyway.

He supposed if they made it through two hours of explosions in the dark without Killian trying to cop a feel, he would feel better about the state of affairs. At the moment, however, he was nervous and uncertain about the whole situation.

Declan paced back and forth in front of the ticket window, watching people come and go. Finally, before his nerves had time to talk him out of waiting any longer, he spotted Killian striding toward him. The older man looked good in the twilight of evening. His hair caught the faded rays of light and reflected it, making his dark brown hair shine with red highlights. His broad shoulders stretched a white polo shirt to capacity, with the collar open just enough to show off the tender dip at the base of his throat. Pressed khakis and loafers rounded out his look and made him look like Declan's idea of an executive yuppie. He wished he'd paid attention and noticed what Killian had driven to the theater. He'd bet his right ear that the older man drove an economical four-door car. There didn't seem to be anything flashy about Killian Hamilton. Declan hoped Killian was as nice and down-to-earth as he seemed.

"Hey," Killian called, stepping up on the sidewalk. "I hope I'm not late."

"No, you're right on time. I was just early."

"You haven't been waiting long, have you?"

"Nope."
Just long enough to have second thoughts.

"Well, are you ready to go in? I've been looking forward to seeing this movie all week. It looks really good. Of course, Liam Neeson is a point in the movie's favor." Killian smiled and winked.

"He is a beautiful man." Declan smiled. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

An hour and a half later, Declan exited the theater with Killian by his side, feeling a lot more optimistic. The movie had sucked, but Killian had proven to have a good sense of humor and an amazing laugh. More importantly, he hadn't tried to get handsy during the film.

Declan shoved through the glass door leading out into the parking lot. "That movie was insane."

"You've got that right. I don't know what they were thinking about when they killed the hero off at the end of the movie."

"I agree. It was a total downer." Declan stepped off the sidewalk and glanced around. "Well, I'm right there." He pointed to where his clunker was parked under the streetlight. "Where are you parked?"

"See the silver Hummer two rows behind you? That's me."

"Nice," Declan said, impressed. Other than sports cars, a Hummer was about the least economical vehicle he could think of.

"Thanks. I probably wouldn't have gotten it, but a salesman offered me a hell of a deal after the gas prices skyrocketed. I couldn't resist."

"I don't blame you. It's a sweet ride."

Declan headed toward their vehicles. He stopped by the driver's-side door of his car. "Well, I had fun tonight."

Killian stepped a little closer. "Me too. I hope we can do it again sometime."

The sounds of the other vehicles and moviegoers passing nearby faded out. Declan licked his lips. "I'd like that."

"I'd really like to kiss you right now."

Declan licked his lips. "Okay."
A little kiss wouldn't hurt anything.

He tilted his chin up as Killian closed the space between them. Killian's warm lips descended over his own, teasing his senses. Firm and salty from the popcorn they'd shared during the movie, Killian's mouth stroked and played Declan's flesh, compelling his lips and tongue to join in on the fun.

A slick tongue skimmed his lips, making him shiver. He parted his lips and met Killian's tongue with the tip of his own, flicking it back and forth in a long, gentle dance of seduction. He wanted Killian to desire him even if he didn't intend to go home with the other man. Sure, he was being a little bit of a tease, but it felt damn good to just let go and make out with someone he liked, to know deep down in his bones that nothing was expected of him and he wasn't required to put out at the end of the evening.

It was oddly liberating.

All too soon, the gentle, feathery caresses weren't enough. Declan twined his arms around Killian's neck and pulled him closer. Their lips meshed until he wasn't certain where he began and Killian ended.

Killian's tongue swept beyond Declan's teeth, circling and dancing to a primal rhythm older than time. He plundered Declan's mouth with a soulful intensity that stole his breath and made his knees weak. Arousal flooded his groin and filled his cock so fast his head spun.

Killian was everywhere: the spicy scent of his cologne, the heat of his large, strong body. Even the taste of the cinnamon gum he favored was burned into Declan's taste buds. The sweet invasion of Killian's tongue only a small sampling of the pleasure the other man was capable of bestowing. If the older man was using the kiss as an opportunity to show Declan what he was missing out on, he was succeeding.

One long drugging kiss led to another and another until Declan didn't know up from down or left from right. He slid his thigh between Killian's and rutted against him, rubbing his hard, aching cock into the groove of Killian's hip.

Killian fought back by catching Declan's lower lip between his teeth. He nipped the swollen flesh and then soothed away the sting with a glide of his nimble tongue. Declan jerked, moaning into Killian's mouth, and bumped into the car behind him.

Cold metal pressed into his back and brought him to his senses. With a touch of reluctance, Declan eased his mouth away from Killian's. He blinked up at Killian, staring into dark eyes glazed with the same desire coursing through his blood. "Wow."

Killian took a step back, giving him some space. "I, um…I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to get so carried away."

"It's all right. I was right there with you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Definitely." Declan grinned. "So, maybe we could do this again next week?"

"Sure," Killian said with a smile. "I'd like that."

* * * * *

The following weekend, Declan agreed to meet Killian for dinner at a small Italian restaurant in town. Although he'd been forced to plead with one of the other men at work and agree to swap days in order to get the evening off, he had high hopes for the night. Just the thought of the kiss Killian had lain on him the weekend before had Declan's toes curling in anticipation.

Killian seemed sweet enough to give Declan a toothache. He could only hope his first impression of the man held up through another date. It had been nice having something to look forward to for a change.

They'd just been seated when Killian asked the question Declan had dreaded. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you end up working out at the ranch?"

As far as questions went, it wasn't anything over the top. That didn't prevent Declan's stomach from churning with dread. "That's kind of a long story."

"We have time."

"Are you sure you really want to hear this? It isn't exactly sparkling dinner conversation." Declan wasn't sure he really wanted to share that shameful story so early on.

"Well, I am curious, but I don't want to force you into telling me anything you're uncomfortable with. I really like you, Declan. I just want to get to know you a little better."

"Okay." Declan took a deep breath while he tried to figure out where to begin. "Well, after my mom passed away last year, my dad really started to lay into the booze. As I'm sure you can imagine, he wasn't the easiest person to get along with while he was drinking. The alcohol made his temper skyrocket until even the smallest things set him off.

"Rather than rock the boat, I toed the line and kept my mouth shut. I mean, I only had about a year until I could graduate and leave for college. I figured it wouldn't be so bad. A lot of people had it worse than me, you know?"

"Sure," Killian said, nodding.

His mouth suddenly dry at the prospect of recounting what happened next, Declan took a sip of his drink. "Are you positive you want to hear the rest?"

"I do."

"All right." Declan squirmed under Killian's perusal. "So, anyway… I made it through okay until the end of July. I only had a couple of weeks to go when I came inside from mowing the grass one afternoon and found my dad sitting in his recliner with a beer in one hand and a handful of my dirty magazines in the other. Apparently he'd gone into my room in search of batteries and stumbled on the small stash of porn hidden at the bottom of my desk instead."

Killian leaned forward. "Oh, shit. I take it he didn't know you're gay?"

"No. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to paint my dad as the bad guy here. He was always there for me when I was little. But losing Mom was just too much for him. I wasn't about to tell him I was gay. Even without the booze, he wasn't the most liberal guy. With it…" Declan shuddered. "I didn't dare say a word or go out on a date with anyone on the off chance that word would get out. Not that it ended up doing me much good.

"We got into a huge fight, and he kicked me out. Things got so loud, our nearest neighbors called the police. I could hear the sirens getting louder as I left." He didn't mention that his cheek had stung with the evidence of his father's disapproval, or the impotent tears that streamed down his face as he'd been forced away from the only home he'd ever known. Admitting he was homeless was bad enough. He didn't want Killian to think he was some spineless crybaby as well.

Declan expected Killian to interrupt, to speak up and say something, but he continued to sit there, a concerned expression marring his handsome features. Declan had never been the recipient of such undivided attention before. It was flattering, if a little unnerving. Killian's dark gaze was so intense, it felt as if he could see beyond Declan's words to the ugly truth beneath.

"At first, I was convinced I would be all right." Declan shivered, remembering how alone he'd felt that first night on the streets. "I thought I would find a job and make it on my own, you know? But people asked too many questions. No address and no phone number meant those who might have given me a chance had no way of contacting me later.

"It didn't take long to realize how hopeless the situation was. What little cash I had ran out in a couple of days, and there was no way to earn more. I don't know what I would have done if not for the hustler I met the night the police chased me out of the park. He referred me to Chicken Ranch. The night you came in was my first shift there."

With startling clarity, that night replayed in Declan's mind.

After being chased out of the park by the police for loitering, Declan aimlessly walked the streets. He wrinkled his nose at the foul scent of sweat and body odor. Although he'd like to blame the stench on his surroundings, five days on the street had left him pretty ripe.

His stomach growled, reminding him it had been over forty-eight hours since he'd eaten. The last dollar he'd possessed was long gone, spent on a cheapo hamburger at a local fast-food joint.

He kicked an aluminum can and watched as it rattled down the litter-strewn alley. It rolled and twisted along the asphalt, coming to an abrupt stop against a plum-colored boot with a thick platform heel. Declan's gaze lifted, tracing over a smooth, well-rounded calf and a slender thigh. Obscenely tiny black shorts cupped a male groin and firm buttocks. The guy's midriff was bare, a bright orange mesh tank top cut off beneath his nipples.

Declan stared. He'd heard about the hookers who occasionally could be spotted downtown, but he'd assumed they were all women. Frankly, he'd thought the notion was a load of horseshit. What kind of whore would want to stand on a street corner in the suburbs? Surely they'd be better off in New York, Washington DC, or any number of other places Declan could think of.

"You gonna stare all night, sweetcheeks, or are you gonna come closer?"

Declan lifted his gaze and met wide, kohl-rimmed eyes. Because of the distance between the two of them, he couldn't tell what shade the other man's eyes were, but they appeared dark. His nose was a thin, vertical slash across the heart-shaped width of his face. The man's hair was bleached as white as snow and looked stiff to the touch, it was so spiky.

"Excuse me," Declan said, edging closer to the prostitute.

The hooker propped a hand on his hip. The cheap silver rings on his fingers caught the castoff from the light overhead and twinkled. "I said," he enunciated slowly, "are you going to come closer or stand there and gawk all night?"

Declan shrugged but stepped closer all the same. A thought popped into his head and spilled from his mouth before he could think about it twice. "Is it hard?"