Page 8 of Survival Game

Ryan chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Such a shy boy, aren’t you?” He batted his eyelashes. “Well, I know I’m new here, sir, so I don’t like to presume, but could I please suck your cock again now? Mr Tripper was just leaving.”

“Fuck, Ry…you are so bad.” Mango’s tone was husky and needy. He looked across at Kyle who was slowly backing out of the office.

“I’m going,” he murmured. “You two have fun. See you tomorrow. Remember to breathe, boss.” He winked at Mango saucily. He was waved out impatiently as Ryan got busy unbuttoning his lover’s Levi’s.

Kyle closed the door behind him and stood shaking with laughter—laughter tinged with a little envy and a lot of yearning. The pair had been through some turbulent times recently, what with Ryan breaking up with Mango then taking him back. But they appeared to be stronger than ever and it was clear to see the two men were besotted with each other.

I want that. I want someone to come home to who isn’t going to make me lose my breath in fear. Someone who won’t treat me like a personal punching bag.

Thoughts of his ex-boyfriend caused his heart to sputter even though the man was thousands of miles away. All Kyle had to see nowadays was the physique of a six-foot, black-haired and muscled man to send chills down his spine.

He was making a last-minute check that he’d put everything away when he felt the presence of someone behind him. An unknown man’s cologne teased his nostrils. Heart hammering, Kyle turned swiftly, stepping back defensively. His movement triggered a pile of toilet rolls to go tumbling from the bar countertop to the floor. He’d been about to put them in the gents’ loo before he left.

Kyle met the startled gaze of pale jade-green eyes in a tanned complexion, surrounded by short, deep auburn curls. Eric Kirby towered over Kyle by at least six inches and he felt intimidated by the broad shoulders and powerful body.

“Kyle? You okay? You’ve gone horribly pale.” Eric moved toward Kyle, who stepped back again as he tried to get his panic under control.

“Hi, Eric—you surprised me, that’s all. I was expecting anyone else. I mean, I’m just putting these away.” He waved at the toilet rolls spread across the floor. “I’ll pick them up now. No, don’t you do it, it was my mistake…”

God, he has beautiful lips. I’d really like to kiss them one day.

“Don’t be daft,” Eric said, still seeming a little wary of Kyle’s overreaction. “I’m sorry I scared you. The door was open and I saw you there, so thought I’d come on over and say hi before I went to see Ryan.”

Kyle’s gut churned. “You said the door was open? I thought I’d locked it.” His hands shook as he piled another roll on the top of a growing mound. He bent down and picked up two errant toilet rolls and put them back on the bar counter.

Eric shook his head as he placed the last straggler on the top of the pile of pink rolls. “No, the keys were still in the lock too. I took them out.” He handed over a set of keys. “Here you go.”

Kyle stared down at them in bemusement. “I’ve never done that before. I always make sure I lock the door when we’re alone in here and the club’s shut. Shit.”

Anyone could have walked in. Apparently last night’s episode with Steve left me more rattled than I thought.

“Not a big deal. It’s all good now.” Eric cast a worried glance in Kyle’s direction. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.” He managed a smile. “Um, about seeing Ryan. I wouldn’t go in there right now. He and Mango are kind of in the middle of something. I already interrupted them. I don’t think they’d take kindly to another intrusion.”

“Ah.” Eric’s grin lightened the room. “I get it. Well, I only came by to ask him if he wanted to go for a drink. If Mango’s here, I guess they’ll be busy for a while. Guess I should go then.” Sighing, he turned to leave.

Kyle’s spirits dropped. He could have done with a bit of a natter but he didn’t want to risk Eric giving him the brush off.

With a deep breath, Kyle plastered a false smile on his face just as Eric turned around with a question in his green eyes.

“If you’re on your own right now, perhaps you fancy coming for a drink with me?” Eric tilted his head. “There’s a great little pub down the road called The Griffith. They make a mean plate of chips with an ale.”

Kyle’s smile went from false to real in a split second. “Really? Yeah, I guess I could—just wait a sec, will you? I need to put these away in the loo then I’ll get my stuff and we can go.”

Better freshen up first.

Kyle picked up the toilet roll pile and with arms full, he manoeuvred his way to the bathroom. He’d need to check on the special Deep Purple cloakroom to tidy up, but that could wait.

Once inside the loo, he dumped the supplies in the closet, ensured there was paper in each cubicle, and then retrieved his freshen-up kit from the locked medicine cabinet. He took out his toothbrush and toothpaste, cologne and antiperspirant, scrubbed his teeth ’til they gleamed and made lavish use of the toiletries before stuffing them back in the cabinet.

When he got to the front of the club Eric stood at the front desk, seemingly engrossed in a magazine. Kyle watched as Eric’s large, blunt fingers flicked the papers.

Hmm, big hands…

Kyle smirked. In truth, he thought that to be an urban legend. He’d met guys with tiny hands and huge dicks, and guys with big hands, but you’d need an eyeglass to see what nestled between their legs. In Vegas, he’d even met a guy with three balls. One dick, unfortunately.

He cleared his throat and Eric turned around. His face lit up. “You ready to go, then?” He put the magazine down and grinned. “It’s only five minutes down the street.”