Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
My voice rose to a shout. The girl on the couch groaned and shifted. “Too loud, baby. ’M tryna sleep.” A rat’s nest of dark hair covered her face, but I’d guess she was pretty. Kenny always reeled in beautiful girls with his charm and good looks. Apparently, willingness to share heroin didn’t hurt among his preferred crowd.
“Baby?” I mouthed.
Kenny shrugged.
This was not how I wanted to spend any part of my time. “Get rid of her,” I said in a harsh whisper. “And get rid of this shit. You’ve got five minutes.”
Kenny snorted.
“I’m serious, Ken.”
“Yeah, yeah, unwad your panties, bro.” He waved a hand in my direction without looking at me.
Enough of this shit. If I didn’t leave, I’d burst a blood vessel in my brain and stroke out. I threw my hands in the air and marched out of the living room. What a shitty start to what was supposed to be my one day of quasi-freedom.
At least I still had one thing going for me. There was no way in hell Ryder would be getting a job at Top Shelf.
CHAPTER SIX
RYDER
The daytime vibe in a nightclub was strange, to say the least. While the décor hadn’t changed from Saturday night—the sexy, dark green velvet curtains draped the black walls, elegant gold light fixtures dangled from the ceiling, and the gorgeous bar gleamed with cleanliness—everything else felt off. The space was so quiet that my footsteps reverberated as I crossed the buffed wooden dance floor. Bright lights illuminated every inch of the space, eliminating the shadowed, sexy atmosphere from the other night. The club felt vast and lonely without bodies crammed in every corner, writhing to the beat.
I wanted to turn off the lights, crank up the speakers, and shed most of my clothing.
This was unnerving.
“Unnerving, isn’t it?” A deep, commanding voice had me whipping around to find a gorgeous man wearing a suit perfectly tailored to his medium frame. He had dark hair with a sprinkle of salt, giving him the distinguished look of a gracefully aging A-list Hollywood star.
“It is. Not gonna lie, I like it better dark, loud, and crowded.”
The man half-smiled. It made his dark eyes twinkle, but didn’t erase his grave, almost severe countenance. “So do I, considering that’s when I make my money.”
I chuckled. “You must be Mr. Hughes.” I hurried across the dance floor to greet the club’s owner. “Ryder Calloway,” I said as I extended my hand.
“Parker, please. I hate the formality of having my employees call me Mister, especially considering what I make them wear to work.” He winked, and I laughed out loud.
What a pleasant surprise. On first impression, everything about this man seemed formal, from his Armani suit to his shiny shoes—were those alligator? Nice—to his impeccable posture and even his flawless skin. Parker seemed the type to demand rigid perfection from his employees rather than allowing them to use his first name for their comfort.
But I’d never had a boss, so what the hell did I know?
“Parker it is,” I said, shooting him the grin I’d been told charmed many men into my bed. Well, my pants, anyway, most never made it as far as my bed. Club bathrooms and random rooms at a frat house were more my style—quicker and less messy that way.
“Come on up to my office.” Parker turned and strode toward a back hallway. “I prefer to conduct interviews up there.”
I couldn’t help but admire the man’s backside as he walked, both his ass and the expanse of his shoulders. I’d bet beneath that very well-fitting suit he had a nicely muscled body, probably sprinkled with the same salt and pepper hair his head boasted. All in all, Parker was a devastatingly handsome man. The man must be drowning in dick, owning the most exclusive gay nightclub in Boston.
Older men didn’t do much for me. Sure, I could admire them and my cock had no problem appreciating the view, but I never went after them. I had enough issues with my real father. I didn’t want a man thinking he could act like my daddy and tell me what to do.
No fucking thank you.
I followed him up a staircase directly into a large, glamorous office. The office’s rear wall was the same obsidian as the walls downstairs, but the front was a semicircle lined with windows. Parker had a perfect view of the bar, half the dance floor, and the VIP section. Somehow, I’d failed to look up when I’d been here Saturday night. Otherwise, I’d have noticed this setup where Top Shelf’s king spent his nights observing his empire in action.
“Please, have a seat,” he said as he strode to a black wooden desk. “Welcome to my office, which has been dubbed the Bird’s Nest by my staff.”
I chuckled as I sat across the desk from him in a plush chair, the same green velvet as the curtains. It was luxurious and so damn soft I wanted to strip down and rub my naked body all over it. I’d bet money Parker had fucked in his chair. Or at least sat bare-assed while an eager-to-please man kneeled between his legs and choked on his cock.