Nicole Edwards - Travis

“Both?” The single word came off as a question and Travis purposely took one step back.

“Either you’re sure or you’re not. I need to know. Do you want me to watch? Or do you want me to touch you?”

McKenna’s eyes slid closed as Tag growled low in her ear, his approval evident. The lawyer might be all tough when he had to be, but he was quickly caving to the possibility of where this was going to go.

“Touch me,” she moaned, opening her eyes and meeting his stare once more.

Moving closer, Travis eliminated what little space had been between them as he met Tag’s gaze just over McKenna’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure what the parameters of this little sexcapade were, and he needed the limits defined before he touched her.

“Can I kiss you, McKenna?” Travis asked as he darted his eyes back and forth over each of their faces. He wanted permission from both of them.

Tag’s subtle nod was the first, followed by McKenna’s breathless “yes” that followed.

With very little gap between them, Travis leaned in, trapping Tag’s hands between his body and McKenna’s as he tilted his head, allowing his lips to hover over hers.

“Do you want this show to go on right here? Or do you want to take this somewhere a little more private?” Travis knew this was a monumental step for the couple. And being out in the open like this, he expected them both to be a little more daring, but he wasn’t interested in them doing this because they thought someone was watching. He wanted them doing this because they wanted to. Less of a chance for any regrets later on.

“Privacy would be nice,” McKenna admitted, her labored breaths fluttering against his lips.

Damn, he wanted to kiss her if for nothing else than to ensure his mind didn’t start to wander down paths he had no desire to travel. He just wondered if he was going to have to keep his eyes open so he didn’t try to imagine that the lips he was going to kiss belonged to a little caramel haired goddess who had the ability to level him flat with just a smile.

“Lead the way,” Travis told her and committed himself to what would happen next. No matter what that might be.

At least for the next hour, he wouldn’t need to think.

♂♂

Gage wasn’t quite sure what the hell he was doing. He’d somehow managed to evade everything pertinent in his life for the last few days and yet here he was, waltzing into Club Destiny like his life wasn’t upside down and sideways. It was Tuesday, and he was looking for a way to numb his mind for a little while. At this point, he didn’t even care how he managed to do that, so the club seemed like the perfect answer.

It also gave him a chance to be someone that he wasn’t for a little while. Here, in this place, he wasn’t Gage Matthews. No, here he was Chance Reed and that little bit of anonymity was exactly what he needed. In his humble opinion, Chance wasn’t nearly as big of an asshole as Gage was.

He laughed out loud, ignoring the people who looked at him sideways. Yes, if they thought laughing out loud at yourself was awkward, what would they think if they found out he was referring to himself as two different people?

Dropping onto an empty stool at the bar, he waited for the bartender to make her way around to him. When she did, he ordered a double scotch on the rocks and waited patiently. Keeping his head down, Gage wasn’t interested in seeing what was playing out around him. Between the music and the laughter, he knew it wasn’t anything that would interest him in the least. He couldn’t even bring himself to smile, much less laugh these days.

He had royally fucked up, and now he was paying the price. Kaleb was more than pissed at him, and he couldn’t say he blamed the guy. The woman he’d been courting for the last couple of months wouldn’t even answer the phone when he called. And then there was Travis, and quite frankly, Gage didn’t even allow himself to think about him. Nothing good was going to come out of it if he did.

The satisfaction of seeing Travis’ stunned expression when he laid eyes on Kylie – his wife for the last ten years – never came to fruition. In fact, the horror of what Gage had done hit him so hard, he’d buried himself in a bottle of Jack that night all alone at the monstrous, empty farmhouse. As soon as he managed to sleep off the hangover from hell on an uncomfortably small couch, Gage had split. For two days, he drove the open road, never having a single destination in mind but somehow he’d ended up here. In Dallas.

When his drink was placed in front of him, Gage mumbled his thanks and wrapped his hands around the cool, clear glass. Without thinking, he quickly downed the liquid, reveling in the burn that lit up his chest and the heat that filled his sinuses. Lifting the empty glass to signal another, he waited patiently for the bartender to return. They played that little game for nearly an hour before Gage realized he was suddenly feeling no pain.

“You going upstairs tonight?”

The question pulled Gage from his drunken stupor, and he looked up to see Kane Steele wavering in front of him, a crisp white towel sliding back and forth across the bar top in front of his face. Wait, maybe Kane wasn’t the one moving. It very well could be him, Gage thought to himself.

“What’s going on upstairs?” he slurred, not making the connection because the alcohol had seemingly rendered him ignorant. He smiled like a fool as he replayed his words back in his head, moving his tongue around inside of his mouth because it felt strangely numb.

“It’s Tuesday.”

As though that was supposed to mean something to him, Gage tried to fumble through his booze soaked brain cells to locate the little tidbit of information that might make sense. No such luck.

“Playroom?” Kane said with a grin.

Ahhh. Well, that explained it. Tuesday night.

“I’d much prefer hanging out here with the pretty little bartender,” Gage slurred.

There was a growl and Gage turned from side to side to see where it came from. When he looked back at Kane, the man’s face barely coming into focus, he realized the sound was coming from him.

Gage tilted his head, studying Kane for a moment. So many things were swimming around in his head, but he finally realized what he’d said. Oh, that’s right. The pretty little bartender was Kane’s woman. Hmmphh. The man was a little possessive. He might want to get that checked.

“I think you’d be better off upstairs,” Kane urged.

“Shit, why not. What the hell do I have to lose?” Gage mumbled and pushed his empty glass toward Kane. “One for the road?”

Kane looked him over as Gage did his best not to sway on his seat. Right. Like that was working.

He had no idea whether he was successful, but something must’ve convinced Kane because a few seconds later another glass was put in front of him. It took three attempts, but Gage finally managed to retrieve enough cash from his wallet to cover his tab and then some. With a tilt of his head, he grabbed the glass and made his way to the staircase on the far side.

Hmmm, the room was a little lopsided.

The smell of sweaty bodies and alcohol hit his nose at the same time the room tipped some more. Gage stopped, not wanting to spill his drink and grabbed onto the rail of the staircase. Looking up at the doors, he wondered if he’d even be able to enter his code to get in. Shit, he wasn’t even sure he’d remember what the damn thing was by the time he got up there.

Not having anything better to do, he figured he’d give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen? He’d take a trip down the stairs? Maybe it would knock some sense into him. Lord knows he needed it.