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**Nick is pissed off and getting drunk, knowing he should stop. But when he sees the hot blond superstud come walking in the bar it gives him every reason to drink all the more!**
*****
New York City
Nick was sitting at the bar at Jilly’s on Fifth Avenue nursing his fifth scotch and soda and trying not to slug it down like he had the others. He was pissed, really fucking pissed off. He usually didn’t drink much but tonight he suspected he was really going to tie one on. Totally.
The classy dining club was crowded. One of the Upper East Side’s trendiest destinations, it was packed with late diners and drinkers, handsome well-dressed men and beautifully-clad gorgeous women all out on the town this Friday night in late August.
Nick, casually dressed as he was in black jeans and a black pullover knit shirt, was nevertheless better looking than just about anyone else in the place. With his dark short-cropped hair, blue eyes and olive-toned skin, his classically handsome face just about jumped out at you, letting everyone know immediately he was no ordinary guy. When they got a look at his muscular physique and their eyes lingered on the fit and toned body in the form-fitting clothes, that sealed it. Dude was hot!
Hot and, tonight, angry. He grimaced and slugged down the rest of the drink, then called the bartender over for another. Screw it all to hell, he was thinking, figuring the only thing that might improve his mood was to get seriously drunk.
“What’s up with you tonight, Nick?” the bartender asked as he handed Nick the drink. “You don’t look your normal self. I mean, you look great as usual, but sort of like a fire-breathing dragon, too.”
Nick snorted a laugh. “Yah, Chuck, you’d better get the fire-extinguisher ready. I’m about to blow out some serious flame. I feel awful, man. I don’t think anything could make me feel better, not even a weekend three-way with Channing Tatum and Theo James.”
“Whoa dude!” Chuck leaned in a little closer. “You must really be messed up. That’s a sexcapade nobody would refuse. What’s the matter, buddy?”
“Fuck!” Nick took a swig of the drink. He really didn’t want to talk about it, especially to Chuck. He knew that guys like Chuck figured he was a man who had everything. And he hated to complain because he did have everything – almost. And it was that ‘almost’ that sometimes drove him absolutely crazy.
“Oh hell,” Nick went on anyway. “I got cut from that runway show I auditioned for, Amedeo’s new fall and winter line at The Guggenheim tomorrow. He’s the hot new designer from Milan. His family used to be Italy’s royal family and he’d be a prince now if they hadn’t kicked the monarchy out sometime back in the last century.
“And I’ve got just the look he needs. I’m more Italian-looking than his dudes back in Italy. It’s really got me bummed. I was accepted and then got cut. Hell, I gotta start getting into the really good shows with the top designers, you know? Get my name up there. Get some fame. Make the really big money.”
Nick was a professional model. A jock in high school, he played wide receiver on the football team and was a fitness freak. After graduation, he came to New York from the Midwest via Venice Beach in California where he got discovered jogging on the boardwalk by a scout from a Manhattan agency. In the last five years he’d done very well in editorial advertising campaigns, in-store and catalog work, and he often traveled to destinations around the U.S. and Canada for shows. But he hadn’t worked for any of the big international designers yet and he was itching to grab that shiny brass ring and ride on home with it.
“Come on, cheer up,” Chuck scoffed at him, his eyes cruising up and down the bar checking his customers. “You’re too good looking for those European designers anyway. And too built. They’ve got some seriously anorexic dudes posing and walking for them.”
“Not Amedeo,” Nick disagreed. “He’s back to featuring hot hunks, in the pics and on the runway. Hot bodies draw more attention to the clothes and the shows in general. Muscle boys, nice bulging crotches, and humpy butts guarantee more hype and coverage. That’s why I auditioned. I got the goods and I know it. But I got the cut by one, dammit! He’s bringing over some blond Hungarian dude with him who he’s grooming to be a star. I haven’t seen him yet but I’m sure I’ll wanna strangle the fucker when I do.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Chuck pushed back a little and looked Nick up and down. Like the rest of the large population of young men in New York who paid attention to hot young male models, Chuck thought the handsome six-footer was as awesome as a dude could possibly be.
“You’re getting to be really well-known,” he told Nick. “Your photos are everywhere – bus stops, subways, catalogs, department stores, Abercrombie and Hollister, and all over the Internet, even the porn sites. There’s a bunch of full-frontal nude shots of you on the Tumblr and Blogspot blogs. Sexy as fuck, samsun escort man. And ass shots, too. I’m sure everybody’s looking at them. A lot.”
Nick grunted with annoyance and raised his glass to drink, but Chuck gently grabbed his wrist and stayed his hand. “Take it easy, huh? I don’t want you getting crazy drunk.”
Nick frowned, but he placed the glass down on the bar. “I never posed nude in my life, front or back. Those shots are all photoshopped from underwear poses. The fuckers! They put somebody else’s dick and ass on me. Hah! Believe me, mine are better.”
Chuck grinned at him. “I’m patiently waiting my turn to see proof of that firsthand in person.” He winked at Nick, adding, “Calm down and be happy. You’re one of the hottest guys in the world and you know it. We seldom get everything we want and you already have way more than most.”
He went off to take care of a couple who’d just now called out to him, and Nick watched Chuck’s shapely back and butt as he moved down the bar. The dude was tall and rangy, handsome, solid, and very masculine. But he and Nick had never gotten together in the few years they’d known each other.
Nick shrugged. It sounded like Chuck would like to get together. He wasn’t the type Nick usually went for. He looked more like a rodeo star than the hot fitness muscle boys that got Nick’s hormones pumping and his dick throbbing.
Like the one who was walking into the bar right now. Nick could see him in the mirror in front of him on the back wall of the bar, walking toward him. He slowly turned around to look at the dude, and his heart immediately began to thump at the full sight of him. Yah, muscle boys, he was thinking. This one could be the leader of the pack. Tall and blond, he was wearing a V-neck knit shirt and dressy blue jeans that hugged every muscle-curve of his extraordinary body. He was boyishly handsome, pretty, with green eyes and a sweet smile, his hair fashionably buzzed close on the sides with a high-waved pomp on top.
Nick’s crotch was tingling just looking at the dude, and he felt a little breathless. He pretty much had seen it all, but he’d never seen such a perfect body or such a perfect face. Super hot guys were literally a dime a dozen here in New York City and he knew most of them. This dude was a stranger. And Nick had a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut that he knew exactly who the guy was.
“What’s up, my man?” The sudden greeting by the stranger surprised Nick as the fellow slipped onto the empty bar stool next to him. “You look like you could use a drinking buddy, partner. I have been in New York only a day and I am really loving it. You sure look like a native New Yorker.”
His name was Barron and he’d stayed in the hotel last night, jet-lagged from a day of traveling. But he’d been determined to get out tonight and experience the legendary New York nightlife. After walking a few blocks up Fifth Avenue from his hotel, he’d spotted Jilly’s and came in, figuring he needed a drink or two before he grabbed a taxi and asked the driver to take him to one of the hot clubs where men can meet men.
But once he saw the dark-haired fellow at the bar, he totally forgot about doing that. Even from a distance he knew the young man was the one he wanted to meet for tonight. And now, sitting beside him and getting a much better view, he was thinking more along the lines of tonight and every night he’d be in New York this trip.
He offered his hand before Nick could respond. “My name is Barron. I am from Budapest, Hungary, and I will be in town a few days for work. I sure could use a friend like you to show me around.”
Nick was feeling loopy from the booze. Good thing. All he needed to hear was ‘Hungary’ and he wanted to punch the fucker’s lights out. Yah right, dammit, of course it had to be him, the hot blond fitness model who’d beat him out for the Amedeo show. He’d heard all about him from some of the other guys and every damn word of it was true. The dude was an utter sensation.
Nick knew two things at that moment. First, Barron from Budapest was way hotter than he himself was. Another reason to hate the bastard. And second, Channing Tatum and Theo James might not be a temptation tonight, but hot blond Mr. Hungary here sure was. As much as Nick wanted to punch and strangle him, he way the hell more wanted to feel him up, kiss him, and make love to him.
Nick trembled with an inner growl, but he told himself to cool it, be nice, and he clasped Barron’s hand. “How’s it goin’, dude? Welcome to New York. Nah, I’m not a native New Yorker, but nobody ever believes me when I tell them. And yes, I’d like to show you around. And maybe a few other things too, huh? My name’s Nick.”
Barron loved the strong grasp of Nick’s hand, his hyper-masculinity and his beautiful smile. He found the young New Yorker to be exceptionally handsome in a bold macho manner and his build was similar to Barron’s own, just a little hunkier and not quite so refined. The fitted samsunkurdu.com clothes showed Nick off to perfection and Barron knew he had to be a professional model too. He was way too good looking and beautifully built not to be one.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Barron asked as their hands parted and he felt a lingering sensation coursing up his arm.
“Thanks, but nah.” Nick jutted his chin at Chuck down the bar a ways. “He won’t give me another one anyway. I’ve already had more than I’m used to drinking.”
He did look sort of tipsy, Barron was thinking, a little woozy and glassy in the eyes. But he liked that. It sure could make the night all the more exciting. “How about a Coke then?” he asked. “Maybe the sugar and caffeine will take the edge off?”
“Sure, dude. Sounds good. That’s a better idea.”
Barron turned to motion to the bartender, a big grin on his boyish face. He couldn’t believe it. First club he walked into and he was hooking up with the absolute hottest fellow in New York City. He was a beauty, looked like an Italian, a Romanian, maybe even a Greek. And the guy had already called him ‘dude’ twice within less than a minute. He got a kick out of how the Americans overused that word. He watched as the bartender walked over, the man’s brows raised in interest as he looked at him and Nick.
A couple minutes later Chuck placed the tall chilled glass of Coke in front of Nick with a knowing look, his eyes rolling over to Barron, who he’d just placed a whiskey and ginger ale in front of.
Chuck winked at the newcomer. “Good idea. Get this man here sobered up. Then you’ll have a real good time with him.”
Then he was off, down the bar before Nick could throw something at him or maybe tell him to go fuck himself.
Barron chuckled. “In Europe, the barman does not care if you drink too much. It is expected of a man.”
Nick shrugged. “We make an attempt at being more in control of ourselves here. Not a really big one, but at least an effort.”
He wanted to tell Barron not to stare at him so wantonly. New Yorkers didn’t do that in places like this one. As much as Nick liked the guy, and that was a whole lot, and as much as his dick was growing hard just being next to him, he still wanted to punch him right in that pretty face. Nick was sure he was the one who’d gotten the Amedeo slot.
Or was he just imagining things because he was so angry about it, and trying to hang the blame on an innocent bystander? Like really, what were the odds that he’d really run into the dude actually responsible?
Trying to chill himself down, Nick growled, “Jeez, buddy. You gotta sit there and gape at me like that?”
Barron grinned. He liked hearing ‘buddy’. That was one of his favorite English words. And he wanted to get real buddy-buddy with New York Nick. “Gape? What do you mean? My English is very good but I have not heard that word before.”
“Dude, you’re looking at me with big round eyes like a hungry cat ready to pounce.”
Barron raised his eyebrows as he sipped on his drink. “Gape? Pounce? You have a colorful vocabulary. But what does it mean?”
Nick snorted. “Like you’re gonna attack me!”
Barron laughed, nodding. “That I do understand. Yes! I am desiring to attack you.”
He placed his drink down on the bar and his hands shot out and grabbed Nick’s sides right at the ribs. His thumbs rubbed along the outer cuts of Nick’s prominent pecs hardly an inch away from his nipples, which caused them to immediately jump up to attention at the electrifying touch.
“Attack and conquer!” Barron enthused. “Like Julius Caesar. Like Attila the Hun.” He lowered his voice. “Lean closer, my friend, and I will kiss you.”
Nick laughed at him. “No way. Not in here. This is a straight club.”
But he loved the touch of those beautifully-shaped hands, the zinging force flowing through them into him, and the throbbing in his cock as it chubbed up to full maximum in the tight pants.
He knew they should not be doing this. Definitely not. They should be chatting, not touching – where do you work, what do you like to do, how old are you, all that crap. But who the fuck cared? Nick didn’t. Not right now. Despite the negative possibilities that were threading this meeting with a touch of angst and a whole lot of anger, all Nick really wanted to do was have sex with the dude. They could talk later.
Barron frowned. “In Europe men can touch each other and it is not such a big deal.”
But he knew Nick liked his hands all over him. He could see it in the intensity of Nick’s eyes, the desire there and the wanton longing. But apparently Nick was too reserved, being such a macho American, to give in to showing affection for another man in a place like Jilly’s with so many others around to see it.
“You gotta be a model, huh?” Nick said as he grabbed Barron’s forearms and pushed them away, releasing dude’s hands from his side. It was definitely time for small talk. Nobody was watching, but still, getting a boner for a hot hunk in a crowded straight club and letting him feel you up sitting at the bar? Please. Sometimes he could indulge in some pretty slutty behavior, but he usually reserved that for places downtown in Greenwich Village.
“That’s what I do, too,” Nick went on, not waiting for an answer, not wanting to release the muscular forearms from his grasp. They were really awesome. But he did, after all, and they dropped back down onto Barron’s thighs. “And I know everybody in New York, dude. You are so freakin’ hot you sure blow all the competition to pieces.”
Barron couldn’t believe Nick had said that. His pretty green eyes bugged wide. Hadn’t the man looked at himself in the mirror lately? Wow, that face and that body, the olive skin and the intensity of those blue eyes! He was beautiful, and Barron figured Nick had him beat by many a mile.
He said, “Thank you, buddy,” liking the sound of that word rolling off his tongue. “Yes, I am a fitness and runway model in Europe. I am here in New York to do a show tomorrow. But I think you have me beat by a lot of points in the looks department.” He gave Nick a sly grin, adding, “I also think it would be a good for us to be naked together so we could compare bodies part by part. Just to make sure who is hotter, of course.”
Nick felt a zing streak up his spine at the thought of it. “Yes, of course! Good idea. Part by part, huh? I’d say we’re pretty evenly matched, but you’re a helluva lot prettier.”
“And you,” Barron countered, “are more manly. Rugged. Ah, what is the word? Oh … a stud!”
Nick knew he was falling insanely in love and ridiculously in lust second by second with the blond Adonis. Maybe it was the booze affecting him, or his disappointment at not getting into the Amedeo show. This had never happened to him before, going so instantly all-out chronic over somebody. But he never before had met anyone so exciting.
He gritted his teeth, knowing his surmise had to be correct – Barron admitted to being a model and he had to be the one who’d gotten the slot in the Amedeo show. Nick couldn’t blame the designer for picking Barron over him. He knew he was really hot stuff himself, but there were a lot of guys in New York who had the same look as he did. But there was fucking nobody who looked so hot and built and sweet, and boyish, as Barron.
“Let me guess.” Nick managed a laugh. He just had to fucking know. “Could it be you’re in the Amedeo show tomorrow at the Guggenheim Museum?”
As Barron’s eyes widened and he nodded in agreement, Nick grunted to himself, instantly angrier now at learning what he’d suspected to be true. His hands balled into fists in reaction and, even though he knew he was being overly dramatic, he wanted to punch the hunky dude so bad he could taste it.
His heart was thumping almost out of control. But he slowly managed to rein himself in because he knew he wanted to kiss Barron even more than punch him. Then suck his dick and fuck him, and a whole lot of other things. And he intended to. And he knew he’d get a couple rough jabs in there too, somehow, just for the hell of it.
“Yes!” Barron answered, surprised at the question. “I did a show for Amedeo in Milan recently, and one in Paris. How is it that you can make such a good guess?”
Nick shrugged off a little laugh. “I know everything that goes on in this town. I’d already heard more than enough about Amedeo’s hot new hunk from Budapest to figure he was you the moment you walked in here. Everybody’s talking about you, dude.”
But Nick didn’t say anything about his own trying out for the show. There’d be plenty of time to tell Barron about that later. And maybe handcuff dude to his bed so he wouldn’t be able to show up tomorrow at the Goog. Yah, save the revenge for later, he told himself. Real sweet revenge. His balled fists loosened and he wiggled his fingers wanting to grab his new friend right there and then. And he knew for damn sure there definitely was going to be a later!
Everybody here was talking about him? Barron was amazed that Nick knew so much about what went on in New York. He had to be somebody very important and very successful, but Barron had never seen a picture of him before. He was sure of it. There was no way he’d forget that face and physique. Nick was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.
He’d also noticed Nick’s changing expressions from anger to delight and then back again, and the balling and unballing of his fists. Something was going on, Barron realized, and Nick was trying to control himself. Male models were often very envious of each other, and he’d experienced it before. But he wasn’t going to worry about it. There were far stronger emotions at play here – attraction, lust, and love, and he already knew that they were the ones that were going to win.
Barron’s eyes had focused on Nick’s lips, which were full and red and seemingly swollen with desire. He so badly wanted to kiss them while holding hard against him the man they belonged to. He forced his eyes up to Nick’s dreamy blue ones where he saw the same flame of passion burning that he was now feeling surging within him.
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