Page 66 of The Barkeep and the Bro

And it wasn’t going to happen.

Nope.

My phone buzzed with another text. It was a picture of Charlie grabbing his package through his pants.

“I’m gonna go to the bridal suite and start getting ready!” Ellie kissed my cheek and bounced away. “You seem very stressed.”

That I was.

But I was not going out to that truck.

Nope.

“I’ll see you later, Ellie Bear. I need to help Charlie get something out of the truck.”

23

CHARLIE

Five minutes later, I climbed Mitch like a tree.

When I was little, I hated broccoli. Typical kid. I battled my parents when they served it at dinner. I had no interest. But then I went away to college, and it was in the dining hall, and I started eating it. And I thought, hey, this is pretty good. Now I love broccoli. I imagined that hooking up with Mitch was a lot like broccoli. I wasn’t sure if this metaphor made much sense. But the TL;DR of it all was that I really really liked fooling around with Mitch.

I was bi as fuck.

“We can’t be doing this,” he growled into my lips as he pushed me against a stack of crates. Glasses rattled on impact. The sounds of people buzzing outside wafting into the truck.

“I didn’t make you come to the truck,” I said between kisses. I wished I could talk and kiss him at the same time because removing my lips from his for even a second was its own kind of torture.

“You said you needed a hand.” He bit at my lip, and I moaned into his mouth in a greedy response.

Speaking of hands, mine slipped under his shirt and roamed his body, running up his broad, hairy chest and down the rippling muscles of his back. The feel of his rough skin and thick chest hair under my fingers sent sparks shooting through my body. The erection in my pants was a given. Could dicks be hard enough to bust through denim? I was putting that hypothesis to the test.

“I do need help bringing in the glasses.” I grazed my hand over the crotch of his jeans and grabbed his thick cock.

Mitch shoved me harder against the crates in response.

“You’re going to break all of them if you keep doing that,” I said.

“Good,” he whispered in my ear.

I opened my legs so he could get closer to me, consume me. I wanted to be consumed by a guy?

Apparently so!

I was very bi as fuck.

Mitch licked a stripe up my neck, leaving shivers in his wake. I ground my raging boner against his crotch. I wanted to recreate last night. Mitch on top of me. Our cocks mashing together in heat. His beard teasing my ass. I couldn’t think of anything else. My mind was a one-screen movie theater.

His calloused hands slid under my shirt and teased my nipples. I couldn’t catch my breath. Waves of pleasure hit me.

“Your beard,” I muttered out, unable to form coherent sentences.

“You like this beard,” he let out a gravelly laugh. His eyes sparkled with their own dark magic.

“I do.”

“‘Cause you’ve been messing around with all these hairless chicks.”

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