Page 12 of His Stepdad Wears Leather

So what if he crashed and burned. It was his damned birthday. Maybe if there really was a god, he’d help Noah out. Perhaps the bartender sensed his regard… or maybe it was a little divine intervention. The guy tilted his head and their stares locked. Noah’s insides twisted into a knot… lust pumping through his veins.

My god… he’s gorgeous…

Abbie Lee’s voice whispered in his mind.Be a good boy. Get down on your knees and pray for this blessing.

Oh, I’ll get on my knees, all right,he thought with an inward chuckle.

He tilted his chin a little and attempted a seductive gaze, though he was fairly sure there was equal chance that he appeared decidedlynotseductive.

You probably look constipated,his inner voice whispered.

Shut it. Do not fuck this up for me…

The man narrowed his eyes a little, as if he was considering Noah’s ill-attempt.

That’s right. Come on over… daddy…

A shiver rippled down Noah’s spine at the word. That shiver stopped at his hardening dick.

A little tilt came to the man’s lips before he turned back to whoever he was talking to. Noah let out a sigh of disappointment, but only a second later dragged in a strangled breath when the bartender ambled his way. He stopped directly, on the other side of the bar, and offered Noah a slow smile.

“What can I get you?” the sexy bartender asked, yelling a little over the music.

Oh fuck. What do I order? Beer is meh. I need to seem mature. Worldly.“Whiskey. Neat,” he yelled back. Noah wasn’t exactly sure what ‘neat’ meant, but he’d heard it in a movie, so hopefully it would make him sound experienced. He’d learned from the last time he’d snuck into a bar that hemost definitelydidn’t like beer.

“Top—”

“No,” Noah interrupted with a grin. “I’m a bottom.”

The last part, of course, came out just as the song ended and seconds before another slow song began. Some of the guys at the bar next to him turned to gawk, amused smirks on their faces.

Jesus, swallow me whole.

His inner voice chuckled.Someone’s gonna be swallowing, that’s for sure.

The gorgeous bartender chuckled. “Topshelfor do you want a well drink?”

Noah’s face flamed. He had no idea whatanyof that meant. “Top shelf,of course.”

“Of course.” The handsome bartender’s stare washed over his face before he grinned, a grin that caused the nerve endings at the back of Noah’s neck to prickle.

Noah let out a relieved sigh when the guy spun to prepare his drink. Not only did it give him a moment to breathe, but he was free to peruse all he wanted without the bartender’s notice.

Nowthat’san ass.

His peek didn’t last long enough. The bartender spun, bottle in hand, and poured the whiskey into a glass with ice—before straining it out and pouring the liquor into another glass.

“There you go,” the bartender said. “Would you like to pay now or start a tab?”

Noah didn’t have enough money to run up a tab. Nor did he have the tolerance for one, either. He’d once stolen some liquor from his father’s cabinet, and his stomach and head had quickly revolted later that night. “I’m only having one. What do I owe you?”

“Twelve.”

Dollars?Noah glared at the glass and frowned.“This stuff made of gold?”

“You said you wanted top shelf. That’s where the pricey stuff sits,” the bartender said with a frown. “But youobviouslyknew that.”

“Oh, yeah,” Noah replied, tensing slightly. “I forgot.”

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