Right. Beau slid his hand into Vin’s jean’s pocket, feeling the firm thigh muscle underneath the denim. He groped around in the pocket, finding a wad of soft bills and…well, now.

He swallowed hard, the erection that had begun to soften in his own jeans flaring into heat and longing. He traced one finger along the bulge, then blushed as Hector piped up over Vin’s shoulder, “You know, a drunken yes means no, Beau.”


Beau took his hand out of one pocket and reached into the other. There was the phone. He snagged it and the slippery metal squirted away from his probing fingers. “Damn, Vin, did you have to wear the tightest pair of jeans on the planet?”

Vin, who was humming loudly and surprisingly on key, grinned. “Sure. I have an ex—hic!—exshellent package. Might as well show it off.”

“I’ll say,” Hector said, grinding briefly against Vin’s body in time with the music. “Seen it many a time and never yet gotten used to it. Well enough takes the breath away. Beau, look on his contact list, and hit the button for David.”

Poking at the phone for a few minutes yielded the contact list. David Pritchard. He stuck one finger in his ear, then listened to the phone ringing.

“Seriously, Mr. Reyes? It’s almost midnight. You want to go out now?” The voice who answered was deep, adult, and somewhat exasperated.

“Sorry, sir,” Beau said—screamed—into the phone. “My name’s Beau, I’m a friend of Vin’s. He’s drunk as all get out. Can you come give him a lift?”

“Oh, fuck me sideways,” the voice at the other end growled. “Where is he?”

Beau grabbed an empty plastic cup off a nearby table and turned it, reading off the name of the bar. “I got no idea how to get here.”

“Don’t worry, kid,” David said. “I know where it is. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Meet me by the alley.” The phone went dead in Beau’s hand. He lingered a few moments over placing the phone back in Vin’s pocket, ignoring the raised eyebrow that Hector was giving him.

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