Hunger (Chicken Ranch Gentlemen's Club Book 1) (7 page)

"What? My dick?" The hooker's thin lips twisted into a gruesome smile. "For the right amount, I can be as hard or soft as you want me to be."

"No. Not that." Declan shuffled his feet. "I mean, is it hard to, you know, sell yourself?"

The hooker scowled. "I'm trying to work here, kid. Go bug someone else to teach you the ropes."

"I'm not asking you to teach me how to screw. It isn't rocket science. I was just wondering if it's hard to sleep with all those men. I-I don't have a lot of choices right now."

"You're cute, kid, but I wouldn't advise it. Spreading your legs for money isn't as easy as you'd think."

"I don't know what other options I'm going to have. Nobody wants to hire a homeless schmo to work their cash register."

"They might hire you out at the Chicken Ranch. I tried to land a job there myself, but they had too many rules and shit." He quirked an eyebrow. "Then again, sweetcheeks, maybe you should just forget about the whole thing and go home to Mommy and Daddy."

Declan's back stiffened. "I can take care of myself."

"Don't go gettin' all offended. I don't mean nothing by it."

"What difference does it make whether I'm selling my ass here or somewhere else?" More than likely, the other guy just wanted to get rid of Declan so he didn't have any competition.

The whore shrugged. "None, I guess. Just you have to be ready to take of yourself out here. Ain't nobody going to come running to your rescue."

"What about that other place you mentioned? What's it like?"

"I dunno. Ain't never worked there. But I heard they screen the johns or some shit in exchange for a cut of what their boy's make."

"Oh," Declan muttered, his mind working overtime. It definitely sounded like he'd be better off taking his chances on whatever place the guy was talking about—safer, at any rate. Handing over a cut of whatever he made would be preferable to taking his chances on his own.

"Look." The whore propped one hand on his skinny hip and glared through the gloom. "I'm trying to earn a living here. If you want to rent it out, go find your own damn corner. This one's mine."

"Um, yeah… I'll disappear, but could you at least tell me where that ranch place is first?" There was no reason not to check it out. It couldn't be any worse than trying to hock his ass on the street. Truthfully, the thought of getting into some stranger's vehicle gave him the creeps. He'd watched enough true-crime shows to realize no good would come of it. However, common sense and morals wouldn't fill his stomach or put a roof over his head.

"Whatever, man. The Chicken Ranch is on the outskirts of town, toward the mill. There's a big sign over the driveway. You can't miss it."

"Thanks," Declan threw over his shoulder, already walking away from the jaded man. Hope fluttered in his chest. He didn't like the thought of sleeping with men for money, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

The timely arrival of the server snapped Declan out of his trip down memory lane. Killian shooed the woman away, claiming they were both fine, while Declan pulled himself together. He lifted his gaze from the untouched, rapidly cooling plate of food before him, afraid of what he might find reflected in Killian's eyes. He figured it would go one of two ways: Killian would feel sorry for him, or the other man would realize what a loser Declan was and it would be the last time Declan heard from him. He wasn't sure which outcome was worse. To his surprise, he found neither. Instead, what looked like pure anger brewed behind Killian's dark eyes.

Killian reached across the table and laid his hand over Declan's where it rested on the table next to his plate. "I'm sorry, but your father's an asshole. It must have been hard living with a man like that. I know it had to be beyond rough going through everything by yourself like that, but I think you're better off without him. It's his loss, not yours."

Declan released the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. It took everything he had not to lean across the table and lay a big, wet kiss on Killian. Instead, he shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Yeah, well… What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?"

"I guess." Killian finally picked up his fork and twirled the tines through his pasta. He took a bite and swallowed before speaking. "So, if you were so inexperienced before you started, and I met you early on that first night, does that mean that I was the person to take your—"

"Yes." Declan cut Killian off before he could say the dreaded
V
word. "You weren't my first client, but you pretty much conquered that whole territory."

Killian grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Good to know."

Relieved beyond measure, Declan tucked into his steak with relish. The meat was so rare, it practically melted in his mouth. Between bites, he observed Killian. Even the way the man ate was sexy. He plowed through his food with gusto, his strong, thick fingers holding the fork firmly but gently. Killian repeatedly licked his lips, his slick tongue moving sinuously, unaware of how every damn sexy peek of his tongue affected Declan.

With his appetite suddenly focused on things other than his meal, Declan set his utensil down on the side of his plate. He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the longing crowding his throat, determined to get to know Killian a little better before they hopped into bed. "Now that you know all my dirty little secrets, why don't you tell me a little more about you?"

"All right." Killian wiped his mouth and dropped his napkin on top of his plate. "What would you like to know?"

"Absolutely everything."

"Well, that certainly narrows things down for me."

Declan sipped his water. "You could start with what you do for a living."

"That's easy and entirely boring. I'm an accountant."

"Oh, yeah? How'd you get into that line of work?"

"Working with numbers appealed to me. Math was always one of my strong suits. Math and science both, I suppose."

"I can see that about you. I'm the exact opposite. In school, I always liked English and history the most. I actually had to take algebra twice before I passed the class. I bet you were an honor-roll student."

Killian nodded. "Afraid so."

"I'm always right about these things. You have this superserious vibe going on."

"I do?"

"Yup. It's kind of sexy, but you definitely need to loosen up a little." Declan figured he could do a thing or two to aid in that goal, if Killian would let him.

"And I suppose you know a 'thing or two' about how to help me relax?"

"I think I can manage, if you're game."

"That depends. What do you have in mind?"

"There's a new comedy playing at the multiplex next week. Want to go with me?" Declan smiled, knowing that wasn't what Killian had expected him to say. If nothing else, he'd keep the man on his toes.

Killian laughed, signaling for the check. "That sounds like fun."

The twinkling lights of town faded in Declan's rearview mirror. Killian sat beside him in the car, staring out the passenger-side window. Although the movie they'd seen in town had been pretty good, Declan couldn't have told anyone the name of it to save his life. His mind was on yesterday's holiday and the man next to him.

After working half a day on Thanksgiving, Declan had gone home to his dreary little apartment and crashed for much of the afternoon. Although Killian had invited him to come over, he just didn't feel like being around people. Like a vulture, his thoughts circled around the meaning of the holiday and inevitably kept coming back to his mother. Turkey Day had been her favorite of the fall holidays. She'd gone out of her way to make a meal large enough to feed an army and then spent the day making Declan and his father tell her what they were thankful for in their lives. While it had annoyed the piss out of him as a kid, he missed the tradition now that she was gone.

Thinking of her, he'd decided to call his father. Even knowing it was an effort in futility didn't stop him. His mom had been big on family and, homophobic bastard or not, his father was the only kin he had left. Extending one last olive branch to the man who'd sired him was what his mom would have wanted.

With a heart full of forgiveness, he'd dialed the old man's number and waited. His father had picked up on the fourth ring, just before the answering machine would have kicked on. The slur in his voice was more than enough warning to hang up, but Declan had soldiered on and announced himself, saying, "
Hi, Dad. It's me
."

The monotonous shrill of the dial tone replied.

After being hung up on, Declan had lazed around feeling sorry for himself for the rest of the day. He went to bed early and slept until noon that morning. Thankfully, Killian had yet to press him for details on what he'd done the day before. He'd seemed satisfied with Declan's work excuse and left it at that.

Since Killian's vehicle was in the shop, Declan had offered to provide their transportation for the evening. It was the least he could do, since they normally either met up wherever they were going or Killian drove. Plus, he felt more like an equal partner in their date rather than a charity case. It wasn't that he minded letting Killian pay for things he couldn't afford—like the fancy restaurant they'd dined at the week before. However, he could swing gas money and paying for their movie, so he'd insisted on treating the older man for a change.

It was the first time Killian had let him pay for anything in the month or so they'd been dating. Although, to be honest, between Declan's work schedule and the night classes he was taking at the local community college, they'd only gone out on a few dates.

Nevertheless, Declan was frustrated with the way Killian never seemed to want to do anything more than neck like green adolescents. While he appreciated Killian's determination to prove he wasn't using Declan for sexual favors, he was also tired of going home to beat off after each date.

Considering the amount of sex he had on a regular basis, he should have been sick of it. Thankfully, he found the prospect of being with Killian completely different than work. The act was the same, but the purpose behind it was not. With Killian, he yearned for more than the orgasm at the end of the rainbow. For once, he actually wanted the intimacy and closeness that came from making love to someone. Granted, he ached to strip Killian bare and lick every inch of his naked skin, but the rest held true as well.

He supposed he was going to have to make the first move if anything was ever going to happen between them. Tonight was as good a night as any. His nerves would have gotten the best of him, if not for the simple fact that he knew Killian wanted him. It was kind of hard to miss an erection beneath the dress slacks and pressed khakis Killian favored.

Each good-bye kiss was flavored with a hint of desperation, the tang of male pheromones clouding the air upon every parting. If the sexual tension grew any stronger, Declan planned to start wearing a condom to dinner in case of spontaneous orgasm. Squishy pants were not his idea of a good time.

All too soon, he pulled up outside Killian's house. Tension mounted, filling the interior of the car. Declan didn't know whether to use the blunt approach and ask to spend the night, or take the more subtle route and suggest a nightcap of some kind. Did people even use the term "nightcap" in conversation, or did that only happen in porn?

"Well, here we are," Declan muttered, stalling for time to figure out which approach was more likely to get him laid without making him sound like a moron.

"So it seems." Killian unbuckled his seat belt and turned sideways. "I had fun tonight."

"Me too." So much so, he wasn't ready for it to end.

"Would you, um, like to come in?"

Hell, yes!
Declan schooled his features into a placid smile. "Okay."

"Great." Killian grinned bright enough to light up the interior of the car.

A virtual cornucopia of X-rated images and hopeful plans for the rest of the night rushed through Declan's mind as he exited the car and followed Killian inside the small brick house.

Declan entered the house first and curiously glanced around. The space was large and clean, if sparsely furnished. Light from a single lamp illuminated bits of the living room. A plush blue sofa sat against the back wall and faced a large, wall-mounted flat-screen television and waist-high cabinet. Clunky wooden end tables and chrome-colored lamps flanked the couch. The lack of chairs lent the impression that Killian didn't have people over often.

"Home sweet home," Killian said, entering behind Declan. "It isn't much, but it's mine."

"It's nice, Killian. A lot better than my place." His tiny efficiency apartment was cramped and cold. It felt more like a hotel room than home.

Killian pressed up against Declan from behind. He wrapped his arms around him and kissed the back of his neck. "Would you like something to drink?"

Declan turned in Killian's arms. "Sure. Just water, if you don't mind."

"No problem." Killian kissed the tip of Declan's nose. "Just give me a sec."

"All right."

Declan looked on as Killian strode through a threshold at the back of the living room and disappeared into blackness. Bright light quickly spilled from the kitchen, illuminating the view of sterile white room. Almost everything was colorless, from the floor to the walls. The only variance Declan could see from where he stood was chrome handles on the cabinets above and below the white marble counter. A dining-room table sat against the far wall to the right, constructed from clear glass and stainless steel.

With the sound of running water and the clank of ice echoing in the background, Declan turned his attention to the narrow hallway to his right. Four doors stood closed, like silent sentries protecting Killian's loot from intruding eyes. He wondered what treasures were waiting to be discovered behind each one. Surely Killian had some kind of skeletons hiding in his closets. Handsome, sweet, and thoughtful to a fault, the man was too good to be true.

And Mama always warned me not to believe in anything that seemed too perfect.

Declan sat down on the edge of the sofa. As much as he hated to admit it, even if only to himself, a small part of him was buying into what the guys at work said. Over and over he'd listened to them predict doom and gloom for not only his but every single one of their relationships. Although he didn't want to believe it, a very tiny part of his psyche spoke up and justified his fears. If his own father couldn't love him, what hope did he have of finding anyone who could?

Killian walked back into room carrying two glasses of ice water. "Are you in a hurry to get home? We could snuggle up and watch another movie or something."

"Thanks." Declan accepted his glass and took a sip, enjoying the view. While sitting, he was right at eye level with Killian's groin. Even soft, the other man had a nice bulge behind his fly. "I know something we could do."

Killian sat down beside Declan. "What's that?"

"This." Declan took Killian's glass and set it and his own on the end table. Then he wasted no time closing the space between them. He straddled Killian's lap, pushing their groins together, and faced the older man head-on. "I realize you've tried to take things slow—and I appreciate the gesture—but I think we've waited long enough."

Killian released a deep breath, murmured, "Thank God," and captured Declan's lips with his own. Strong hands bit into Declan's hips; long fingers sank into each of his buttocks as he was pulled in closer.

Declan parted his lips, inviting Killian inside. The first touch of Killian's tongue seared away all conscious thought. The nimble appendage danced around his mouth, only to withdraw just when he was really getting into it. Declan advanced, fighting for more over the battleground of Killian's lips and teeth. Fueled by nearly a month of fantasies, the soft, wet tease heightened his body's need for more. Sparks of desire caught fire and heated him from the inside out. Killian's kiss was only a small appetizer, while Declan hungered for the full meal.

Declan dragged his mouth away from Killian's. He buried his face in Killian's neck, licking and sucking the smooth, heated skin as he tugged Killian's shirt out of his pants. "Want you."

"Me too." Killian dropped his head onto the back of the couch, giving Declan's mouth more room to play. His hips surged up, grinding against Declan's ass. "I haven't been able to think about anything else."

Declan grasped Killian's shirt and jerked it up and over his head. He tossed it over his shoulder, heedless of where it flew, and reached for Killian's belt. His fingers fumbled with the buckle, too unsteady to get the tongue through the hole. He groaned in frustration, jerking the belt to no avail.

"Hey." Killian grabbed Declan's hands and brought them to his mouth, kissing one palm and then the other. "Calm down. I'm not going anywhere."

"I know." Declan backed off and took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. His heart was racing, the echo of his pulse thrumming through his aching shaft. The desire to rip Killian's clothes off and ride him to satisfaction was strong, almost too powerful to resist. The watery memory of Killian's fat prick surging inside him had carried Declan through a lot of lonely nights and unsavory clients, but it was no longer enough. He needed the real thing. Pronto.

"You know I want you too, right?" Killian slid his hand beneath Declan's T-shirt and rubbed his stomach. "I'm not slowing things down because I don't want to fuck you into tomorrow. I just… I've thought about little else other than being with you again. Now that I can, I'd really like to take my time and do you right."

Declan snickered. "Do me right?"

Killian blushed. "You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do." Declan mussed Killian's hair, just because he could, and scrambled off his lap. Once standing, he held out his hand. "Why don't you show me to your room?"

Killian took Declan's hand and rose to his feet. "It would be my pleasure."

With their fingers entwined, Killian led Declan down the short hall and through the second door on the right. Just beyond the entrance, he released Declan's fingers and walked over to the nightstand, where he turned on a small lamp with a deep blue shade. Dim light illuminated a large, four-poster bed covered in a plush navy coverlet.

Declan barely noticed the rest of the decor; he caught sight of the long, mirrored dresser across from the foot of the bed out of his peripheral vision, but he only had eyes for the man standing by the bed. It felt as if he'd waited a lifetime for this moment. In a way, he had. He'd never made love with anyone who wanted him just for him. This would be the first time he'd completely shared himself with someone when there wasn't a monetary reason attached. The blunt realization caused his pulse to race faster and his palms to dampen, yet his groin throbbed with a fresh pulse of desire.

As he watched, Killian reached into the nightstand drawer and removed a strip of condoms and a dented bottle of lube. Without looking away from Declan, he tossed the lube and condoms onto the bed.

Neither of them said a word as they both began to disrobe. Their lustful gazes expressed more than enough. The very way Killian looked at him made Declan burn with impatience. He would've liked to take his time and undress the other man, but he didn't want to delay getting his hands on Killian's body for another second. Clothing would only get in the way and was liable to be ripped if he dared to try and help with anything other than getting himself naked.

In a matter of moments, they were both bare and staring at each other with interest. Killian's chest rose and fell exaggeratedly, as if he were having trouble breathing. Declan didn't feel so calm himself. His palms itched to trace the sparse whirl of hair beneath Killian's navel, to follow its path until his fingers were buried in the curls around Killian's thick shaft. If he'd had any doubt of whether Killian wanted him, it quickly evaporated in sight of the man's erection. Killian's dick was so swollen, it looked painful, the broad crown already wet and ruddy with need. An intricate web of thick blue veins circled the wide shaft. Declan's mouth watered to sketch each one until Killian spilled on his face.

Another time…

Tonight, he had something else in mind.