Page 89 of The Barkeep and the Bro

“Me, too, Boss.” I supposed it was only fair since he did most of the work last night. I stroked my cock and rubbed it through his furry belly. I was so damn close. The days of being able to last a long time to ensure my female partners got off were over.

My body quaked like an oil derrick, ready to burst.

Mitch sensed this, too, since he took my hands away from my dick, all set to torture me again.

“I”m going to make you come hands-free,” he said.

“I’ve never done that.”

“That’s because you haven’t been with me.”

He shot me a cocky smirk that threatened to make me blow. I bit down on my lip, wanting to prove him wrong.

Mitch sat up and rested my hands on his shoulders. Then he took over fucking duties. He raised his ass and jackhammered into my hole in hard jabs. My cock flopped on his stomach, and I couldn’t catch my breath. My body coiled and tightened as he rammed the orgasm out of me.

Spurts of come shot onto his chest and stomach, and he grinned from ear to ear before rolling his head back and filling me with his seed.

He won.

Hell, I won, too.

Our eyes connected through the haze of afterglow. Mitch was rugged and handsome and also beautiful in his own sweet way. He filled my heart. I’d been in relationships before, but I never had this. This feeling of the deepest parts of ourselves intertwining, of comfort and safety and…

Love?

Whoa, Charlie.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What? Uh, nothing.” I hopped out of bed and went into the shower. I had to cool myself down.

I wasn’t the kind of guy who could handle love. My relationships never breached the emotional surface. They were like kids’ toys: light and fun and never lasting more than a few weeks. Now I was thinking I was in love? Perhaps Mitch had fucked so deep inside me that he caused brain damage.

Mitch liked me and liked to fuck me, but as I stepped into the hot water, I wondered if this was just light and fun for him. We had good times fooling around this weekend, but did he feel anything serious for me?

Or was I doomed to be the fun bro?

* * *

Ellie and Timreserved a bunch of tables at a diner in town for all the guests who’d stayed over. I offered for us to go there separately. He could get there early to be with Ellie and other family members, and I could grab a ride with Amos. And we could avoid any whispers of us walking in together, like a couple.

But Mitch refused. He shook off the suggestion with a shoulder shrug, no qualms or fucks to give.

Mitch tried to clean up the hotel room as best he could before we left, but it still had the aura of a sex disaster zone. He made the bed, but it smelled of sex. The garbage cans were filled with condoms and tissues. We left a nice tip in an envelope for the maid.

As soon as we stepped into the diner, conversations came to a halt for a split second. Eyes upon eyes checked us out. What did they know? Was our room bugged?

Skeeter shot me a cold look, but that was one I could easily ignore. Fuck him and his drinking problem. Amos waved me over while Mitch went to sit with his friends.

He reached for my hand, but our fingers missed each other as we went in separate directions.

I kept my head down, but when I looked up for a moment, Ellie and I made brutal eye contact. I didn’t need a weatherman to tell me about the cold front coming in.

“Hey,” I said quietly to Amos while I put my napkin on my lap. “What are we eating?”

“I ordered blueberry pancakes.”

None of the food had arrived yet, but Mitch and I were still late. And was Ellie still looking at me? I was too scared to find out.

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