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Ante Up: A Four Kings Security Short by Charlie Cochet (1)



The word popped into Seth’s mind whenever the young man took to the plinth, a low-level black base in the center of the club’s dance floor. Kit, or rather “Sex Kitten” as many of the clubgoers referred to him as, wasn’t like the other go-go boys who performed at Sapphire Sands any given day of the week. Kit had an air about him, an ethereal beauty that placed him out of the reach of mere mortals like Seth.

The way the plinth slowly rose with him striking a provocative stance was enrapturing in and of itself, casting a spell over the sea of men crowding the floor. As if answering the siren’s call, they moved their gazes to him, and Seth could all but hear the collective catch of breath.

When the black plinth reached its intended height, Kit began to move in time with the seductive beat, and it was magic. His flawless skin shimmered with pale blue glitter, from his long shapely legs and sinewy torso to his toned arms and slender neck. Like the rest of the club’s go-go boys, he sported glittering blue high top sneakers, and a pair of tiny, sparkling blue shorts that molded to his perfectly rounded ass like a second skin. He looked like an angel with his platinum blond hair, dark eyebrows, and ocean-blue eyes, but the sinful way he moved and the decadent way he licked his plump, lip gloss covered lips screamed I could do wicked things to you.


That was another word to describe Kit, a far more sobering one. Seth shook himself out of it as one of the club’s members motioned him over to the center of the bar.

“Jesus, where the hell did Frank find him?” Cory asked, his tone reverent as he raked his gaze over Kit’s body like a caress.

“One of our guys graduated college last month and landed his dream job, so he put in his notice. I think Kit’s a friend of a friend who put in a good word for him,” Seth replied. All the dancers were in their early to mid-twenties, some still in college or recently graduated. Frank paid exceptionally well, and the dancers earned an obscene amount of money in tips when they danced with the club members or entertained them in the private booths—providing the entertainment remained respectful. The go-go boys were off limits, both to club members and staff. The only thing dumber than breaking club rules was breaking Frank’s rules. Frank Ramirez was the owner of Sapphire Sands, and no one fucked with Frank. “The usual?”

“Yeah,” Cory mumbled, eyes locked on Kit. As if shaking himself out of whatever trance he’d been in, he swiveled in his stool to face the bar. A knowing grin came onto his face when he caught Seth staring at Kit. “You’re a great guy, Seth, but he’s so out of your league.”

“Thanks, pal. The only reason I don’t take offense is that you’re right. But then Kit’s out of most guys’ league.” Kit had a reputation for crushing men in his delicate palm and tossing them out like the many napkins littering the club floor at closing time. “Also, Frank would have my balls if I so much as thought about it,” Seth said as he created his customer’s favorite Punt e Mes Manhattan.

Cory’s hazel eyes went huge, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “Thanks for that. I think my dick just shriveled up and died.”

Seth laughed. Frank had that sort of effect on people. Fluffy bunny he was not. Sapphire Sands wasn’t just any gay club. It was an exclusive members-only club for wealthy gay men, each one personally vetted by Frank himself, or by the Kings, who owned the high-end security company that provided the club’s prestigious security. If you were a member of Sapphire Sands, it meant you’d made it to a position of wealth and power. Frank prided himself on offering an unrivaled club experience, and above all, discretion, especially when several of the club’s members were still in the closet and getting up to all kinds of naughty things in the curtained-off back rooms.

Dropping a Maraschino cherry into the martini glass, Seth slid the drink in front of Cory with a wink. “Here you go, handsome.”

“Thanks.” Cory took a sip then released a low moan. “Tell me again why you won’t go home with me?” He placed his elbow on the counter, and let his chin rest on his hand, his smile wide. The guy was too cute with his big hazel eyes and a boyish grin. He was around Seth’s age, mid-thirties with long legs and a runner’s sleek body. Whenever he came to Sapphire Sands, he sought Seth out, flirted all night, and tried to get Seth to come home with him. Cory was a nice guy, and Seth liked him. A lot. But the chemistry just wasn’t there, and they both knew it.

Seth leaned in until his lips were only inches away from Cory’s. “Because my fucking your brains out for a night would hurt our friendship,” he said, his tone low and dripping with sex. His lips curled into a smile when Cory whimpered, eyes dropping to Seth’s mouth. Seth pulled back, and Cory glared at him as he shifted uncomfortably in his stool.

“Fucker,” Cory muttered, adjusting himself, and making Seth laugh.

Seth lifted his gaze and froze, his smile sliding away as the thumping club music faded into the background along with everything else.

Kit had stopped dancing.

Instead of seducing the crowd, Kit stared at Seth, blue eyes slightly wide. He moved his eyes from Seth to Cory then back before he narrowed his gaze. Then he was dancing again.

Holy fuck!

What the hell just happened?

“Hello, are you even listening to me?”

Seth jerked with a start. “Yeah, no, sorry. What were you saying?”

Cory rolled his eyes, but he didn’t seem offended by Seth completely spacing out while he was talking. As Seth chatted with Cory and attended to his customers, he wondered if he was losing it. He’d looked up at Kit several times, and their eyes met, only Kit never stopped dancing. No way was Kit interested in him. He would never give Seth the time of day much less be interested in him. It had to be the lighting or something. Yeah, definitely the lighting.



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