Page 72 of The Barkeep and the Bro

“Mitch, I know life didn’t go the way we planned. We had to make big sacrifices. Were it not for a broken condom, you might be in the NHL.” She glanced up at me with those eyes that still had the same shimmer as in high school. “But we raised an incredible young woman. I’m grateful we were able to both be there for her. I’ve seen so many divorced couples where they can’t even be in the same room as each other.”

Zzz. zzz.

Charlie, stop fucking texting me!

His message was the telltale heart beating in my pocket.

“We made it work. Because we both love her. And now she’s…shit, I didn’t know I could cry this much.” Her tears formed a puddle on my shirt.

Zzz.

Dammit.

“It’s an emotional day,” I started as I slyly took out my phone. “She’s, uh, always been our little girl. Now she’s going to be a wife and eventually a mother. Circle of life.”

A little taste for you…He texted me a video, which I should not have hit play on. It was so not the time. I turned my phone on mute.

But my mind and my dick had other plans.

“Our little girl,” Hannah cooed into my chest.

On my phone screen, Charlie whipped out his dick and jerked himself off.

“Who’s texting you?” she whipped her head up.

I hit stop and activated my phone’s lock screen.

“Uh, it’s...there’s an emergency in the kitchen.” I kissed the top of her head. “We raised an all-timer, Hannah.”

I backed away, and my walk morphed into a sprint to the kitchen. I barreled through the swinging doors and charged to the bathroom off to the side for staff. I practically ripped the door off its hinges, then did the same to the stall door. Charlie leaned against the wall, flashing me that cocky smirk.

“You fucker. What the hell do you think—”

He cut me off with a ferocious kiss that sucked the air out of my lungs and replaced them with fireworks. His tongue pressed through my teeth and explored the farthest reaches of my mouth, turning my muscles to putty.

“You can’t just—”

But he cut me off with another kiss. He stood on his tiptoes, which I found hot, knowing how much I towered over him, yet he could still control me in this way. He unbuckled my belt and shoved a hot hand into my underwear. He stroked my dick, which was already hard as a spear. He traveled south to play with my balls. I groaned into his lips, a deep well of need pooling in my gut.

He glanced up at me with heavy-lidded eyes that brewed with lust. He licked his kiss-drunk lips. “I need to repay your generosity from the truck.”

“You don’t—I—” It was useless. I couldn’t form a coherent sentence. I couldn’t catch my breath.

Charlie got on his knees and unleashed my dick from its constraints. It flopped in the air, and the excitement lighting up Charlie’s face was unbearably sexy. He disappeared my rod into his mouth. I cried out as he took me to the base, which was no easy feat as I’d been told by past hookups.

I collapsed against the bathroom wall, jutting my hips out for him. His slick, wet mouth sucked my cock, sending bolts of pleasure up my spine. I didn’t know what I liked better—the feel of his tongue or the way he looked up at me the entire time. Charlie licked a stripe up the underside of my shaft, then stroked me as he tongued my balls.

“Suck me, Charlie.”

“You taste so good.”

Was this the first blow job he’d ever given? If so, he was a fucking natural. He made me levitate.

I lightly pulled him by the hair away from my balls. “Go back to my dick, fratboy. Suck it dry.”

I worked my fingers through his hair and pulled him closer to my cock. He stroked and sucked, pleasuring me with his nimble fingers and tongue.

“Fuck, Charlie. I’m going to bust and make you drink every last fucking drop.”

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