Page 7 of The Opposite Effect

After shaking my head in disgust, I down my entire nip of whiskey in one hit. “I think my cock is broken.”

Ryan coughs, splattering the countertop with the whiskey he was in the process of swallowing. “What?”

I nudge my head to the gorgeous blonde prowling past our booth for the fourth time in the past three minutes. “Beautiful ass, a sinful body, and a rack I’d love to bury my face in.” I drop my eyes to the crotch of my jeans. “Nothing. Nada. It’s fucking broken.”

Ryan throws back his head and laughs. I’m glad he can find amusement in my life-threatening situation. I’ve never faced this type ofissuebefore. Normally, I’d just mumble the word ‘pussy’ andschwing! My cock is ready to pounce. But for the past two months, it’s like my cock packed up and went on holiday, no notice given to me or my lust-riddled brain.

Ryan signals to the waiter for another round before aligning his eyes with mine. “Maybe things have just gotten too easy for you?” His voice is more sincere than his leering expression as he runs his eyes over my face and shoulder-length brown hair. “You need to mess up that pretty face of yours. Make it more of a challenge. Your dick has gotten bored with the ease of the game.”

While rolling my eyes, I punch him in the arm. When he chuckles, I shake my head and turn my eyes back to the crowd to silently ponder. There are beautiful women as far as my eye can see, yet my cock feels nothing. Not a twinge. Not even a slight fucking throb. As much as Ryan thinks I’m joking, I truly believe my cock is broken.

But I’m twenty-eight for fuck’s sake. I’m not even close to the age most men seek help with this type of situation.

Maybe Ryan is right? Maybe the game has gotten too easy?

My wallowing over my broken appendage stops when Ryan asks, “You still buying into Inked?”

I nod, happy to change the course of our conversation. “Yeah. With everything going on with Ryder’s boy, he doesn’t want to spend as much time at the shop. It’s kind of a win-win situation. He gets time with his family. I get to dig my fingers into ownership.”

Ryder’s son, Slater, was admitted to rehab earlier this month. Slater’s band, Rise Up, started smashing the charts late last year with two singles off their debut album. The week following the band’s massive success, the band’s lead singer, Noah Taylor, wasinvolved in a traffic accident which resulted in him spending three months in a coma at a local private hospital. Ryder was worried about his boy, but Slater seemed to be handling the situation well… until his friend recovered. Then it all went downhill.

Ryder was suspicious a few weeks before Slater’s best mate, Marcus, arrived at the shop, but he was giving his boy the benefit of the doubt. Once Ryder had solid proof Slater was dabbling in a wide variety of recreational drugs, he dragged his son’s ass to rehab. After some heavy discussions with his missus, Ryder decided to put Inked on the market so he could spend more time with his family.

After losing their daughter a few years ago to leukemia, Ryder and Lucia weren’t going to sit back and watch another illness claim the life of their child. Although I have enough coin saved to fully buy Ryder out, the fifty percent buy-in I suggested is a better situation for us both. Inked gets to keep Ryder’s honorable name associated with it, and once Ryder’s boy gets his head back in the game, Ryder will have Inked to fall back on if home life becomes too dull.

“So when will I make you a customer at Inked?”

Ryan smiles against the rim of his glass. “When you stop accepting cash only for services.”

I laugh. “That willneverhappen.”

“Then I guess I won’t be under your inking gun any time soon.”

I waggle my brows. “You keep talking like that, and it won’t be an inking gun you’ll need to be worried about.”

Ryan chuckles. “Lucky I can handle myself,” he replies, his tone full of cockiness. “Because I’m not just a good detective. I’m the best?—”

“Fucking detective Ravenshoe has ever seen.” I noogie his head, messing up his hundred-dollar haircut. “Better watch out.Your head might not fit out the door with how fucking big it’s getting.”

He grins a smile that causes the girls fluttering around our booth to move in closer. He gestures his head to the crotch of my jeans. “You better watch out, or your severe case of blue balls might not fit in your jeans anymore.”

When my eyes narrow in on a pair of rich chocolate eyes emerging from a set of dark velvet curtains, any concerns about my blue-ball status are on track to be decimated.

“I’ll catch you around,” I say to Ryan while lifting my chin in agreement with Keke’s suggestive finger crook. “I’ve got somebusinessto take care of.”

Ryan stands from the booth to say goodbye in the same way he greeted me an hour ago. Upon noticing that Damon is indisposed with a pretty blonde, I issue him my farewell by paying for his tab before ambling to the door.

Keke interlocks her arm with mine when we emerge onto the bustling sidewalk outside the club. “My place or yours?”

My brisk pace falters.

“I’m just playing with you, Brax,” she purrs, her voice quickly reverting from French madame to the Keke who only emerges behind closed doors. “I know you don’t take girls back to your place.” She spins on her heels and walks backward while undoing the buttons on her black trench coat. “Although, when you spot what I’m wearing underneath this coat, you may change your mind.”

When she does the quickest flash, exposing inches of a baby pink lace teddy she’s wearing under her coat, I snap my eyes closed and send a prayer to God for leading me to Keke tonight. Because not only did my eyes bulge when awarded with a visual of her naughty little ensemble, so did my cock.

It’s back, baby! Primed and ready to go.

CHAPTER TWO

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