Page 9 of Roleplay at Randy's
Dancing with Elias wasfun.More fun than I’ve had in ages.
Something about the way he watches me, the way he follows like I encapsulate every ounce of his attention—I haven’t felt this seen, thisdesiredsince Riley.
It’s scary as shit.
Because we’ve met twice, and already I want to drag him to my apartment and bury us both in my bed. Not even just for sex—I want him to talk to me in that gentle, teasing voice of his until we drift off to sleep.
I said I wanted connection, butthis—whatever this is—is too much too fast. I’m not sure my heart can handle it.
I don’t care how pretty his eyes are or how much I want to kiss his dimples and find out if he has dimples in other places … I will not fall stupidly in love with Elias Lee.
‘You’re blushing.’ I catch Hannah’s hands out of the corner of my eye, and it takes my brain a second for the signs to register.
‘I’m not’. I go to set my bag in the booth opposite Hannah,but stop when I see someone already taking up the space. ‘Who’s this?’
She looks from me to the kid clapping their hands along to a tablet on the table.
‘C-A-L-U-M,’ she signs. ‘Keeping an eye on him for a friend.’
I smile at the little boy who is maybe five or six, but his attention doesn’t leave the video he’s watching, so I gingerly sit down at the end of the booth beside him.
‘Babysitting?’
Hannah rolls her eyes and playfully kicks my foot under the table. ‘It’s just for an hour. Work emergency.’
‘Mind if I keep you two company?’
‘Feel free.’
I turn my attention to my phone, where I have a list of local strip clubs pulled up, and I hate to admit it, but Hannah is right. Iamblushing.
I’ve never stepped foot in a strip club before—neither Riley or I are into girls, and no way was I getting my closeted boyfriend to a gay club—and I shouldn’t be considering going to one now.
But I have no other ideas for running into Elias again.
I’m such a fucking masochist, because I desperately want to see him.
One of the servers drops a basket of fries in front of the little boy, and for the first time since I arrived, he looks up to pop one in his mouth.
Which is a mistake, because the fries are hot, and he throws it across the table, sticking his tongue out and pulling it with his fingers.
“Whoa, hey, it’s alright.” I scoot the fries just out of reach when he makes a grab for them again, and he smacks at my hand with an annoyed grunt.
He looks at me, though, with an irritated pout that quickly slides off his face. It’s only for a beat, and then he’s clamoring to his feet and sprawling across my back.
I have not a lick of experience with children, so I freeze and throw a helpless look to Hannah, who simply smiles at my predicament.
“Hey, pal,” I say, raising a hand to pat the kid’s side, but his only response is gripping and tugging on my braid until I squeak. “Ouch. Don’t pull.”
He giggles and sits up enough to press his cheek to my shoulder, tugging more gently until the elastic comes out, and then he’s digging his fingers into my hair and pulling it every which way.
I look at Hannah again, and the amusement on her face doesn’t dip a fraction as she pats the table three heavy times. The kid lifts his head to look at her. She points to his seat, and after taking another minute to pick at my hair, he follows her direction and settles back in front of his tablet.
Before I can ask any questions, she swings her eyes to me. ‘About the blushing.’
I groan and slide my phone across the table. Her brows raise, and she taps the screen before turning it back to me.
Breathless Desires -Male strip club.
