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flirtatious
    invitations and more serious offers alike. No way he’d go for someone like Benedict—
    older, conventional, and as clueless about Vincent’s lifestyle as Shane was about
    astrophysics.
    Vincent turned to him, nodding at Shane’s glass with a questioning lift of his dark
    eyebrows.
    “Whiskey,” Shane said. “Make it a double.”
    The Square Peg
    49
    Chapter Five
    Ben’s hand was trembling around his glass as he hurriedly swallowed half the
    beer in it in a series of desperate gulps. His tolerance for alcohol was low, and he
    couldn’t remember the last time he’d had more than one drink in a night. Actually, that
    was a lie. It had been the night Jenson and he had gone to a friend’s wedding, and he’d
    had a gin and tonic and two glasses of champagne. They’d gone home early and had
    amazing, mind-blowing, alcohol-fueled sex before he’d passed out and slept until noon
    the next day.
    He’d started the first beer out of a sense of obligation and finished it out of
    nervousness. He was drinking the second to try to cool the burning heat in his gut, a
    heat that was crawling lower into his balls and threatening to give him a hard-on right
    here in this bar, with Shane sitting next to him, close enough to touch.
    If Ben touched him, Shane’s thigh would be all muscle, solid, warm. His hand
    sliding up that thigh would feel the age-softened seam of Shane’s jeans before brushing
    against Shane’s cock. Christ . Ben gulped down the rest of the glass. “Be right back,” he
    said loudly, not leaning in too close.
    He had to push his way past people on his way to the bathroom, most of them
    men, half of them worthy of a second or third glance if he hadn’t been so focused on
    Shane. His head was spinning, and he felt blinded by lust. It was the beer; it had to be
    the beer.
    “Whoa, careful there,” a dark-haired man said, steadying him. Ben apologized and
    went into the bathroom, letting the door swing closed behind him. It muffled the sound
    of the music, which made it a little easier to think.
    50
    Jane Davitt & Alexa Snow
    Ben went over to the small window and pressed his forehead against the glass,
    cooling his heated skin. There was another sound, a familiar one. The wet sound of lips
    against skin, accompanied by soft moaning.
    “Yeah,”a man whispered. “Suck me. Jesus, you’re so fucking hot.”
    Cock hardening further, Ben stumbled to the sink and splashed water on his face.
    He needed another drink but couldn’t figure out how to get one without going back to
    where Shane was sitting. Shane had wanted this—well, he probably hadn’t wanted to
    become the object of Ben’s lust, but had wanted him to get drunk. Loosen up. Get wild.
    Ben looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked wild, his pupils large in the
    dimly lit room and his hair out of control. He heard the groan as the man in the
    bathroom stall came, presumably into his partner’s mouth.
    He couldn’t concentrate on anyone else as he went back out into the main room.
    His focus was locked on Shane, on Shane’s shoulders and lips and his big, rough hands.
    He wanted to feel those hands on his bare skin. If he’d been sober, the intensity of his
    craving might have concerned him, but in that moment, it felt totally reasonable to want
    Shane this much.
    Shane wasn’t there. It was like a second dash of cold water in his face. Ben went
    up to the bar and tried to get Vin’s attention, but he was dealing with three friends
    squabbling over what beer to put in the pitcher they were ordering. Shane’s glass and
    his had been tidied away, and the dense crowd made it impossible to see where Shane
    had gone.
    As a co-owner of the bar, Ben approved of Shane wandering around, talking to
    customers, and being friendly. As a man with a voyeuristically enhanced hard-on and
    an urgent need to get Shane naked and moaning, he found it inconvenient to say the
    least.
    He wove through the crowd, looking for Shane, but even a