Capture & Surrender (Market Garden, #5)(34)

Frank cleared his throat. “So he was a stripper?”

Raoul shook his head. “Bartender.”

“Oh.” Frank was partially relieved, but also admittedly disappointed that his fantasy wasn’t real.

Raoul draped an arm over the armrest of the chair. “He was bored, not making a hell of a lot of money, and hated that dickhead who owns the place.”

“Can’t blame him.”

“He seems to like his current employer, though.” Raoul gave a knowing eyebrow lift.

“And that means, what?”

Raoul shrugged. “That he likes working here? He likes his job?” The eyebrow climbed a little higher. “That he really likes his boss?”

Go get your gold medal in matchmaking, you f*cker.

Frank gave him an even stare. “You set me up, didn’t you?”

Raoul struck that diva pose, which would have appeared more innocent if he weren’t six foot five of South American beefcake who probably wrestled cows for entertainment. Muscle queen, like picked from a catalogue. “I thought he’d fit, that’s all.”

Fit where?

“If I’d handed you a shopping list, he couldn’t have been better.”

Raoul responded with a sly look. “I actually thought he might be a bit young for you, but the rest . . .”

“There’s that.” Frank shrugged. “I never should have gotten drunk with you that one evening.” That night when they’d compared kink lists and discovered they would be compatible, if not for the fact that they didn’t have a great deal of chemistry. Plus, Frank had been terribly depressed then, so he’d been more interested in getting drunk than getting laid. Under different circumstances, things might have happened, but if Raoul and him had ended up together, maybe he’d be a bartender short now, and Raoul was a good one, keeping an eye on the new arrivals, another on the bar staff, and a third (and God knew where that one was located on his body) on the rentboys.

“So, how’s he working out?”

“In what way?”

“You know. Sex-wise, you guys should ignite the bed.”

“I’ve taken him paintballing. Introduced him to some friends. It’s . . . slow and steady. Easy.”

Raoul grinned and shook his head. “Seems like a bit of a waste, going slow and easy with him.”

Frank laughed. “I didn’t mean everything is slow and easy. I’m not sure he knows the meaning of that phrase when it comes to the bedroom.” Except he did. All too well. Right when Frank thought they’d be fast and furious, Brandon had changed things up and—

“I can only imagine.” Raoul’s voice dragged Frank back into the present. “And by the way? You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, f*ck you.” Frank chuckled, but it was halfhearted. “What did you think was going to happen, anyway? You know I don’t f*ck the rentboys.”

“No, but I figured if one ticked all your boxes, you might.”

“And then what?” Frank sighed. “Kid’s still gotta work for me.”

Raoul nodded. “I know. But, look. When I stumbled across him, he was a bartender itching to shove one of the other strippers out of the way and show him how it was done. He was chomping at the bit for a job like this. And that, my friend, is exactly what you need to get you back into the game.”

Frank eyed him. “Is that right?”

“Think about it.” Raoul shrugged. “He’s a prostitute. A manwhore. A rent—”

“I got it, thanks.”

“Point being, he’s not relationship material. He’s something young and feisty to remind you why you like men in the first place.”

Exhaling, Frank pinched the bridge of his nose. “And what happens if he and I both like it more than we should?”

Raoul seemed to consider the question for a moment before he shrugged again. “Then everybody wins.”

“You really think so?”

“Why not? So what if he works for you?”

Yeah. Why not? Because of things Raoul didn’t know about Frank. He couldn’t possibly know how complicated this could get. Hell, Frank wasn’t sure he knew how complicated it could get.

“Well, I guess we’ll see what happens,” Frank said. “But, keep this all to yourself, would you?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.”

Raoul left Frank to his thoughts, and naturally, those thoughts went to Brandon. Where was he? Was he safe? Enjoying himself? Did he think of anyone except the man he was with at any given time?

He shook himself and went back to his paperwork. No sense overthinking all this. He’d only drive himself insane faster than he already was.





A couple days later, Frank arrived in the club around ten in the evening. Raoul gave him a quick briefing, and at ten-thirty, Brandon walked in. His Stefan mask was well in place, but Frank could see he was tired, an uncharacteristic sluggishness in his movements. He turned to Raoul. “What’s up there?”

“Had a very early client.” Raoul wiped the bar vigorously, playing up his muscles in the extremely tight, white wifebeater he was wearing today.

“Three hours early?”

Raoul nodded.

Wow. Although Brandon did well in short bursts of energy, three hours had to be wearying as hell, and keeping a man under control and anticipating and then wearing him out? That sounded like a lot of effort. Frank admired Doms for that level of sustained energy they needed if they wanted to last in the business. Nick had had the same ability to pace himself and give everything without actually giving his all.