Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 104682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
It and so much more.
Chapter 9
Nikolai
Just when I thought I was getting to know the guy, he’d throw me for a loop. Tonight was a case in point.
Once Jude was home from work, that was usually it. In the two weeks since I'd been shadowing him, he’d only spent the one night out… the one when he’d gone to his lover’s home. All the other nights had been blissfully uneventful.
He went to work, he came home, he slept, he got up and went for a run, went to work, came home, went to bed, etc.
Sure, it was incredibly boring and yet I’d had this strange feeling of contentment about it. I was and always had been a homebody. I enjoyed spending time with my family or even just hanging out by myself and watching a movie or listening to music. I'd never been a nightlife kind of guy, so to find out that Jude seemed to have similar tastes had been strangely comforting—like it meant something.
But, of course, then he’d had to go and turn all that on its head.
"I'm going out," was all he’d said when he'd opened the door of his apartment about an hour after we’d gotten home from his office. At first, I’d thought he wanted to go back to the office to continue with his work, but then I’d gotten a good look at his outfit. He’d had on snug black jeans that had hugged every one of his toned muscles. His T-shirt had been rather simplistic but also quite tight and was clearly meant to outline his body's assets. Still, it hadn't really sunk in until we were in the car and he’d told the driver to take us to Club Four.
I knew the place. It was a seedy gay club in the East Village. While it probably strived to be a classy joint considering its location, it was known for nothing more than loud music, a sizable dance floor, and anonymous sex. In my younger years, I'd hooked up a few times in the bathroom and even in the alley behind the club. The idea that Jude was headed there to either fuck or get fucked had me wanting to reach across the seat and drag him onto my lap so I could show him what he needed was right in front of him. Instead, I dug my fingers into the leather seat and held my tongue. It was none of my business, just like it wasn't any of my business that he was screwing an old man for a cushy job and an even cushier inheritance.
My one and only job tonight was to keep an eye on the man.
"So how does this work?" Jude asked. He seemed incredibly restless because instead of just tapping his fingers on the seat, he was also tapping his foot incessantly on the floor.
"How does what work?" I asked.
"Are you going to frisk every guy I want to hang out with? If I find a guy I want to fuck, do you plan to watch us go at it right here on the back seat?" he asked snidely.
He was clearly angry and frustrated but I wasn’t sure why he was baiting me like he was. Since his night with Hayes, he hadn't tried to ditch me or Mike the few times Mike had needed to cover for me, so part of me thought maybe he'd finally seen the light and was getting on board with things. But now he was obviously frustrated by my presence.
I supposed I couldn't blame him because I wasn't exactly the best of wingmen to have around. Hell, if he had any idea of what I was thinking of doing to any guy who laid his hands on him, Jude would run screaming from me.
"Who you fuck is your prerogative, Mr. Archer. If you're seeking privacy, you need only to let me know and after I make sure the situation is safe, I'll be happy to leave you and your ‘date’ to it," I said dryly.
Jude's eyes held mine for a moment, but he didn't say anything. His foot, however, continued to tap impatiently. Unlike when he did it with his fingers, there was no pattern to it. It was crazy how I was quickly learning to read the man. He had dozens of little tells that I had missed early on but that I was now coming to understand were coping mechanisms for whatever he was struggling to deal with.
We didn't speak for the rest of the ride to the club. I gritted my teeth when the good-looking bouncer recognized Jude and greeted him. Just how many times did he visit this particular club? Or any, for that matter? Did he hook up every time?
Despite the club’s less than classy reputation, the owners of the place had played it smart by installing metal detectors. Those hadn't been there when I'd been frequenting the club in my younger years, so I could only assume that recent attacks on the LGBTQA community had prompted the owners to do everything they could to keep their patrons safe.