Page 1 of Forfeits

Prologue

Oh, he was cute as hell. Twinky and beautiful, sweet and sexy. The way he danced with his friends gave me a boner in two seconds. I watched him through whiskey-dimmed eyes for a long time, until he finally noticed.

He said something to one of his friends then came over.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” I replied, my gaze traveling over his lithe body, covered with glitter, a crop top and very tiny shorts. He was wearing bubble-gum-pink Doc Martens boots. So different from…

I took another drink of my whiskey sour, finished it and put the class down on the bar.

“You’re watching me,” the twink said.

“You’re beautiful,” I said.

“Wow, thank you. You’re kinda hot yourself,” he said, looking me over. “Wanna go in the back?” he waggled his eyebrows. “My name’s—”

“I don’t care.”

“Oh. Wow. Okay, then.” He stood there, but moved the whole time, shifting back and forth on his feet, tossing his head, blinking. He was probably on something.

“I’d love to suck you off,” I said, focusing on the words so they wouldn’t blend. So I didn’t sound as drunk as I was.

“Hmm, okay. Sure.” He extended his hand. “You’ve had a bit to drink.”

“I am…a bit.” I cleared my throat. “Drunk.”

Because it’s the only way I can do this. And I need to do this…desperately. Anything to get out of my head. Anything to touch someone else. Anything to escape for an hour or two.

I’d come to this place once with…but we’d only stayed for twenty minutes. We’d decided it wasn’t for us and gone home. But this time, I’d stayed—because there was nothing at home but a black hole right now, particularly because my only reason for not jumping off a bridge was with her grandparents. My kid. Our kid…

I’d come to this establishment—a combination dance bar and gay kink club, just across the river from Ottawa—where men came to dance their troubles away, or to dominate or be dominated. I’d hoped to attract the attention of an older man, someone who could put me in my place for an hour. But when that didn’t happen, I’d turned my attention to the pretty twink. He would do. I only needed to distract myself, after all.

As he led me out of the dance area and through the main room, I noticed a man by the bar, talking to a friend or his sub, or something. He was dressed in leather pants and a burgundy button-down, wearing motorcycle boots and standing with the air of someone who told other men to kneel.

The lights were brighter here, and I could see his nutmeg-colored skin and appreciate the way his brown hair curled tightly around his skull. He was sleek and sexy and in control, everything that I loved.

I stopped dead and stared. He was gorgeous, and I wished I’d seen him earlier.

The twink tugged at my hand. “Come on. I’m so fucking horny.”

I resisted for a handful of seconds, wondering if I should continue or if I had a chance with this guy. While I waited, he turned, fixed me with his dark eyes and smiled.

But his friend said something, and he turned away, taking the man’s wrist and bending it behind his back, as my cock throbbed and the twink pulled at me.

“Come on!” the glittery twink said, laughing.

I went. I didn’t think I had the ability to seduce anyone else at this point. I’d had too much whiskey.

“Wait! Wait,” I said, aware that we were heading to the dirty hallways in the back. “My car.”

“What?” the twink said, frowning. Gosh, he was cute.

“We can do it in my car…if you want. It’s cleaner.” I smiled, hoping I didn’t look sketchy.

He thought about that.

“I promise I’m not a creep. I just want to blow you. You don’t have to do anything. If you change your mind at any time, we can stop. Please.” I squeezed his hand with a gentleness that came from somewhere beyond the booze, beyond the black abyss of my grieving heart.

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