Page 45 of Glitter

Turning his head, Dusti slid his lips over mine, murmuring, “You know, if you’re not careful, I’m going to get used to that.”

The nickname, or my willingness to go along with anything he wanted? Didn’t matter. Neither one was going away.

“Good,” I said. “I hope you do.” Then, to tease him, and because I wanted to try it out for myself, I tacked on the word “Boyfriend.”

The End

Epilogue

Dusti

Fridaynight,oneweekbefore Benny met his angel…

Sweeping my eyes over the interior of Glitter, I decided I liked what I saw.

The name alone would’ve been enough for me to have put a pause in my self-imposed sabbatical from clubbing, but after the day from hell at work, I’d needed a healthy dose of some eye candy and a couple of sugary, fruity drinks with ridiculous names and absolutely loaded with alcohol. The club also had a pretty decent dance floor and the music didn’t suck, so that was an added bonus.

Speaking of eye candy… I turned to the prime specimen behind the bar, rippling, firm muscles lovingly packed into a club-branded, black t-shirt. “You deal with a lot of puke, right?” I asked. “I don’t suppose you know how to get puke stains out of a silk blouse?”

The bartender looked at me like I was one row short of a full package of Oreos and gruffly suggested, “With a washing machine?”

Ugh. He might be hot, but his laundering advice could use some work. Oh, well. I would just have to look up the answer online after I got home.

I’d tried rinsing my ruined shirt in a sink after a little terror had puked up something vile and green all over me and the reception desk, but the stain didn’t budge. I’d had to resort to putting on one of the sets of backup scrubs my parents kept stocked at the office and now I was stuck, smelling faintly of vomit, in a gross brown shirt and pants with little pictures of chibi dogs printed all over them.

Not my finest look.

“Never mind, honey,” I said. “But while you’re here, I’ll take another drink.”

He pointed at the teeny tiny puddle of orange slush in the bottom of my glass that was the remains of the last drink he’d served me. “Another one of those?”

The…whatever it had been called had been tasty, but… “Nah. Something else this time. Surprise me. As long as it’s silly with fruit and stupidly sweet, I’ll drink it.” A thought popped in my head, prompting me to add, “And pink. Could you make it pink?”

“You want me to throw a bunch of edible glitter in it while I’m at it?”

He was clearly trying to come across as sarcastic as he asked it, but all his question did was let me know there was actually such a thing as edible glitter. And that this club apparently stocked it.

“Yes! OMG, yes,” I replied.

While the hottie bartender went to work making my sweet, fruity, pink,glitterydrink, I swiveled around on my barstool to make another visual pass of all the yummy eye candy on offer.

I accidentally made eye contact for a bit too long with a tall, muscle bear with closely cropped hair. Luckily, as he started to head in my direction, he was intercepted by a dark haired twink wearing the most adorable buttercup yellow romper. Seriously, I kind of wanted to know where he’d bought it so I could get one for myself. Probably not in yellow, but I’m sure the store had it in other colors. If I didn’t think it would lead to getting propositioned for a threeway with him and Mr. Bear, I would totally go over there and ask him.

It's not that I was against threesomes. And both the bear and the twink were attractive enough, although I wasn’t really into twinks. If I wanted to have sex with a twink, I’d just grab my favorite dildo and fuck myself.

But clubs weren’t the only thing I’d been taking a sabbatical from. Let’s just say that my favorite dildo, along with the other less favorite dildos, my butt plugs, and my prostate massager, have been getting quite the workout. My string of bad dates, relationships that lasted shorter than a box of cereal, and hookups that left me feeling empty and even more disposable than the failed relationship attempts, was so long that it could get snipped into pieces and used to outfit the instruments in a string quartet.

Sure, sex was nice. Fun. Great even, depending on who you were with. But, holy fuck, sex, relationships…none of it was worth the hassle. My toys were good enough, even if I liked it better when my partner did all the work and I could just lay there and let them do whatever I told them to.

There is nothing wrong with being a power pillow prince.

“Here you go.” At the gruff voice, I turned back around and took in the drink the hot bartender set on the bar in front of me. “Fruity, sweet enough to rot your teeth, horrendously pink, and loaded with enough glitter you’ll probably have trouble swallowing it.”

Oh my. It was…all of those things. And more. Except…

“I never have trouble swallowing,” I informed him, aiming a cheeky grin at him.

The bartender turned away to go help someone else, but I saw him roll his eyes.

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