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The Salt of the...Earth? [The Brotherhood 10]
by Willa Okati
Category: Erotica
Description: Alex is hot, he's hip, and he knows how to play the dating game. A former male escort and current valet, his firm "look but don't touch" policy is wreaking havoc on his personal life. He's out at Amour Magique with one goal in mind: find someone absolutely down to earth, have a fabulous night, and hopefully get laid. What he finds is Dylan...with his sparkling green eyes, impish sense of humor and fascination with sports he's exactly what Alex wants. They're set to have a wonderful time when Alex discovers that the man he thought was the salt of the earth isn't actually from terra firma at all... Publisher's Note: This is a homoerotic love story. As such it contains elements that may be offensive to some readers: male/male sexual practices.
eBook Publisher: Loose Id, LLC, 2006
eBookwise Release Date: December 2008

26 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [136 KB]
Words: 28116 Reading time: 80-112 min.

"Go team," Alex murmured. He did love a man who didn't mind getting down and dirty ... nice and sweaty ... a man who was raw and real. He'd been in too long of a dry spell, and there were just too many pieces of man candy among the crowd to turn down a chance at one of them. He'd go find himself a place to sit, maybe get nice and cozy with one of the men in the jerseys. Get all close and personal, root for the team, and once the game was won he could suggest they take off for a little celebration.
He had a feeling Amour Magique would provide just the place for a dab of post-game nookie.
A voice interrupted his machinations. "What are you havin' to drink?" Not fazed for a second, Alex turned toward the bar and the man who'd spoken to him...
...and forgot all about the football fans. The bartender was grinning at him, a lopsided lift of the lips that went straight to Alex's heart and made it give a lively pitter-patter. Taller than any man Alex had ever been with, six-foot-five if he was an inch, the bartender had all the muscles a man needed to go with his height. His arms rippled beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white shirt, his collar was open to reveal a small patch of yummy dark hair, and his jeans had a seriously promising bulge hiding behind the zipper.
"Depends," Alex said, abandoning his previous plan and sidling closer. The other men there took one glance at Alex, smirked, and made room for him to stand there, resting his elbows on the scarred but polished wood. Alex reached out and traced patterns on the counter, imagining the bartender wiping him down, all those delicious muscles rippling as he worked with the towel currently slung over one shoulder.
"Depends on what? Time is money, little one--"
"Little one? Well, I never." Alex huffed and put his hands on his hips.
"You can't be over five-foot-nine. That's little. And you don't look like you've never." The bartender winked. "I've got a whole crowd of men to serve." Despite his words, the man didn't seem any too impatient. He lingered there with Alex, big hands at rest in front of him. They were interestingly scarred, as if he'd worked with them--maybe carpentry or construction--before turning to a life of serving drinks.
Alex liked a man with a few marks on him. He'd had enough of soft, pampered fairies to last him a lifetime. "I just don't know what I'd like best," he said in a drawl. "Can I have a few minutes to make up my mind?"
"You can take all night if you want, but right now, I need to have your order." He winked again. "So, what can I get you to drink? We've got everything a man like you, all sassy and spicy, might happen to want."
"A man like me? And just what do you think I'd like?"
"You? You'll take whatever's on offer if there's a good time involved. But that's in general. Why don't you tell me what you want right this minute?"
Alex let himself smile, his best seductive expression, one that promised a good time for everyone concerned. "Absolutely everything."
"To drink," the bartender clarified, grinning as if he were willing to play.
I could go for something long and tall. Alex discreetly checked out the bartender's package a second time. Oh, yes, definitely long. Nice and thick, too. Absolutely perfect.
"I'll have a beer," he said, stroking a finger across the back of the bartender's hand. The man twitched a little, but his smile didn't waver. In fact, it curved up even higher. "You choose what kind."
"I live to serve." The man tugged at a lock of his overgrown, curling hair. "One beer coming up. Anything else you'd like? We have hot wings, mozzarella sticks ... lots of things you might enjoy."
"Just a beer for now." And later? Well, we'll see, won't we? Alex took the foaming glass the bartender offered him and tasted it delicately, licking the froth off his lips with a slow sweep of his tongue. To his pleasure, the man didn't look startled, but smiled at him instead.
"Enjoy the game."
"Oh, I already am." Alex turned away from the bar, but he didn't go far. There was a seat opening up with a perfect view of the man he'd already chosen to play with. The guy didn't know it yet, of course, but he would. Soon.
Lifting his beer in a toast, Alex winked at the bartender. Ready or not, here I come. You won't know what hit you, but I think we'll both enjoy ourselves.
Play time is officially on.
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