Page 44 of Worthy

Trouble

Nyla K

Chapter One

Tate

Pride…

It’s funny, having pride in oneself, like in terms of where I am right now, and what we’re celebrating… It’s supposed to be a good thing. Gay pride. Lesbian pride. Trans pride.

Bi, Pan, Demi, Omni, Ace… Queer, overall, in all its many shapes, colors and considerations. Non-binary and gender fluid… Truth and acceptance.

Pride is good.

But then, isn’t the old saying,pride cometh before the fall?

Is that from the Bible?I would really have no idea… I’ve never read the thing, at least not in full. It’s ninety-percent meaningless info dumping and run-on sentences. Not to mention the hypocrisy…

But I digress.

That quote kind of makes sense. Because it’s a well-known counsel to avoid being overly prideful. No one likes a cocky show-off, right?

I realize, coming from me, this might sound disingenuous. Because Iaman inherently proud person. I’m proud of myself and what I’ve made of my life, all on my own.

I made seven figures last year. I drive a Maserati. I’ve traveled to many exotic places, and I’ve been fucked in half by some of the hottest dudes you could ever imagine.

Should I beproudof that?

It remains to be seen, I suppose, but I’ve always enjoyed living the way I do. I’mproudof the way my life looks from the outside…

Still, I’m not saying it won’t be my ultimate downfall.

I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

In this moment, pride is pretty fucking great. Because it’sPridethe event, as opposed to pride the action. I’ve been to many Prides all over the world, but coming home for the celebration in Albuquerque is a top fave. Most of my real friends are here. I sayrealin italics because yea, I’ve known them for a long time, and yes, we’re theoretically there for each other. But then howrealis anyone or anything, anyway?

How real am I?

Sipping away those thoughts with a glass raised to my lips, my eyes scan the crowded room. I like this club—Xquisite. I know a few of the bartenders, and I come here a lot when I’m in town. It’s usually always pretty packed on weekends, but because of what specific weekend it is, the place is damn-near overflowing with bodies, all scantily-clothed, draped in rainbows and sparkles, grinding on each other like they’re trying to rub genies out of one another’s lamps.

The mood in this room is top notch. Sex, if sex was a mood.

I like that. Sexismy favorite thing, after all.

Some might call me aslut… And to those people, I would smirk and murmur,Jealous?And regardless of their response, I would know the answer to my rhetorical question.

Of coursethey’re fucking jealous. Anyone who’s not having sex is jealous of those who are, whether they admit it or not. Because sex is the ultimate act of everything we all want.

Freedom, connection, intimacy, pleasure, control… power.

Sex is all of it and then some. And it doesn’t hurt that I’m fuckinggreatat it.

Finishing off my drink, I clunk the glass down on the bar, peering over my shoulder at the bartender—this dude Nick. Nick winks at me, and I give him a sultry smile.

We’ve fucked.Duh.

He has a great dick. It’s long and thick… uncut. The perfect thing to slurp on when you’re bored.

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