Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 132962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Okay, like what?” Cody asked.
“Like how hot you look in this suit,” Mitch said, turning on his stool, leaning one arm on the back of the chair and the other on the side of the bar, effectively caging Cody in.
“That’s not a subject I’m comfortable with. Talk about something else.” Cody lifted his glass, letting the few ice cubes at the bottom fill his mouth. Mitch took a drink from his glass and resumed the position.
“How about…I want you to come to DC the next time you get two days off in a row—if I’m still there.”
“We need to plan it. It’ll be too expensive otherwise,” Cody started, but Mitch leaned in and kissed his lips to silence him.
“I’ll pay. You just worry about coming…” Mitch laughed at his words and took another drink, emptying the glass.
“You’re drunk. Let’s see if you still feel this way next week.” Cody smiled at the very tipsy Mitch; he liked him like this. Mitch had long ago abandoned the tie and suit jacket. His sleeves were rolled up, his shirt unbuttoned to almost mid-point on his chest, and he was all smiles. Mitch was definitely a happy drunk.
“I’m gonna feel this way next week. Are you fuckin’ doubting me?” Mitch looked hurt, all except for the half pout, half smile he still wore. “I like you in this suit.” Mitch reached over and flipped the tie he’d made Cody wear through dinner.
Cody looked down at his clothes. “It’s just a black suit…”
Mitch stopped him by leaning in close and whispering, “Take me up stairs, fuck me hard. You know, like you mean it…” Mitch sucked Cody’s earlobe between his lips and ran a hand over his bicep. “I think you got it in you to take control, and I’m drunk enough to let you.”
Mitch moved forward, much closer to his face, so close, in fact, he could feel Mitch’s breath against his lips. “Say yes. And when you’re done, I’ll do you.”
Cody chuckled. “Are you done?” he asked, reaching for his wallet in his back pocket.
“I’m paying,” Mitch said, fumbling to reach for his suit jacket on the back of his stool.
“No, we agreed, you’re here, and I’m paying.”
“No, you’ve put yourself out to help me this weekend,” Mitch insisted, turning to the bartender across the bar. “I’m paying!”
“No, John, I’m paying,” Cody spoke up using his trooper voice, and that had Mitch looking straight at him.
“That’s exactly how I want you to handle me tonight,” Mitch growled as John came up and took the credit card out of Mitch’s hand.
“Let somebody pay for you for once,” the bartender said as he swiped the card in the credit card machine located close to them.
“Yeah.” Mitch grinned at Cody. “I win!”
Cody rolled his eyes and slid off the barstool, grabbing their jackets and Mitch’s tie. He loosened his and reached to undo the first button of his dress shirt as he thought about how best to handle the next few hours. He needed a game plan fast.
~~~
Mitch leaned back against the bar, watching Cody as he spoke to several guys who had just arrived. By their looks, he would probably guess they were law enforcement. Maybe military, who knew for sure, but they seemed to know Cody pretty well. Apparently, they had known him for a few years because there was easy camaraderie between them all.
Another glaring fact, Cody hadn’t introduced him to any of them.
Mitch watched them closely. Cody said he didn’t hide, but he also didn’t flaunt his homosexuality. Today at the church, there had to be police and state troopers there who knew who he was, but he’d walked in and out of the church with his head held high and his hand in Mitch’s.
So why hadn’t he introduced him to his friends?
Mitch tried to push that thought out of his head. That was the great thing about liquor, it helped cloud his mind so he didn’t hold on to anything too long—at least helped him forget until the next day. That was okay too. Cody stood with his back to Mitch. He had a really good view of his cowboy’s ass. He knew that perfect bubble butt intimately and everything else that lay underneath those slacks. He also knew how powerful Cody’s thighs were when they were wrapped around his waist.
“Fuck…” His eyes were glued to Cody’s ass, and he would have missed the questioning blue eyes staring back at him if he hadn’t noticed Cody’s upper body shift slightly. Shit! He must have said the word out loud. He just shook his head and waved them off.
“Don’t mind me. I’ve got a throat thing going on.” He coughed for good measure as if to prove his point. Cody kept watching him as he spoke to the crew.
“I gotta go. I’ll see you guys later.” He heard Cody say as he shook everyone’s hand before taking the few steps back to Mitch’s side. He didn’t reach out for Cody like he wanted to, like he seemed drawn to do every time that hot trooper moved within reach. Instead, he stayed against the bar, forcing his hands inside his slacks pocket to keep them from misbehaving.
“Everything okay?” Cody questioned.
“Absolutely. Buddies of yours?” He smiled, trying not to seem jealous. Damn, being drunk hadn’t taken those thoughts away, and he apparently didn’t like being excluded. Huh.
“I guess. I only remembered one of them from the police academy when I was like nineteen, and I couldn’t remember his name.”
“Ahhh,” Mitch said, extending a hand toward the back of the restaurant where the door was to the elevators.
“What’s that mean?” Cody asked, shooting him a look over his shoulder.
“Nothing. Just, I see,” Mitch answered, staring down at Cody’s ass. “I had a good view from the bar.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Cody asked, stopping at the door, turning back to him.
“Introduce me next time,” he said, stepping closer to Cody. Cody stood his ground and didn’t back away from Mitch. Cody could have opened the door, pushed them through, but he stood right there, chest to chest with Mitch.