Pretty Boy (Perfect Boys #1) - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,1

echoing like thunder, his body seeming to own every inch of space he occupies. My heart lodges itself into my throat as I take a shaky step in his direction, glad to have the bar to hold onto when my trembling knees barely do the job of keeping me upright.

He claims one of the stools, and now that he’s close enough to get a proper look at me, his eyes dance over my face and then skitter away in a hurry like he’s afraid of being caught looking too long, but unable to help himself. My shoulders curl, and I tuck my chin down so he can’t get another good look.

“What can I get ya, sir?” I ask, barely forcing my voice above a whisper.

“Whatever’s on tap, pretty boy,” he answers, his voice deep and smooth, without a hint of the Texas twang I’m used to hearing.

I tense at his words. Pretty Boy. The jeer never failed to make my teeth clench and my blood boil. It sounds so different falling from his lips, without a hint of mocking like I’m used to, but I’m sure I’m just hearing it wrong. He’s being cruel, just like everybody in this godforsaken town.

“Name’s Sterling,” I say quietly, hoping he doesn’t hear the tremble in my voice, my hand clenching around the damp rag I hadn’t realized I picked back up at some point. I toss it aside and turn to get him his beer. While I fill the glass, I cast another curious look at him out of the corner of my eye. I wonder where he’s from. Is he just passing through? If so, Billow is a real strange place to stop. There’s nothing here but tumbleweeds and rattlesnakes.

I set the glass down in front of him, and he looks up, a warm spark in his eye that makes me all sorts of uncomfortable before I manage to look away again. “Thanks, Sterling.” He purrs my name in that rich voice of his, and my cock perks up.

I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek. If looking too long at somebody ain’t safe, then getting an erection just from hearing them say my name definitely ain’t safe. Nobody around here is like that. Nobody except me, and I learned a long time ago that I’d better learn to be okay alone, because nobody will ever want a freak like me.

Barrett

I’m not sure what possessed me to pull off the highway into this little town I’m not even sure has a name. I knew there wouldn’t be much here in the way of food or accommodations, but I felt some kind of strange pull. My sister, Lorna, has always said I can be a bit too fantastical at times. But watching the shy, beautiful boy bustle around avoiding eye contact with everyone as he works, I can’t help but feel like he’s the reason I’m here. He glances in my direction, and I meet his eyes, holding them until his gaze flits away like a frightened little bunny. It’s okay, little rabbit, you can look at me.

None of the customers seem too chatty, mostly sipping their drinks and staring quietly at the bar like zombies. Sterling moves around unbothered, filling drinks and cleaning things. His lithe little body moving automatically. I’m guessing he’s been at this a while. Although it’s hard to imagine he’s a day over twenty. Which makes me a perverted old man for daring to appreciate the perky curve of his ass in those tight jeans every time he has his back to me. I bet it would look so pretty reddened by my handprints.

I shake off that thought before it can take hold. Presumptuous, that’s another thing my baby sister loves to call me. Maybe I am, but it comes with the territory of being born rich and privileged. From the minute I was out of my mother’s womb, I was told I could have anything I wanted. That kind of thing can go to a man’s head if he’s not careful.

I down the rest of my beer, running my hands through my thick mane of hair and gesturing for Sterling when I catch his eye again. He perks up instantly, plastering a smile onto his lips and hustling over to me.

“Another beer?” he asks.

“No, thank you. I wanted to ask if there’s a hotel near here.” The words surprise me as they fall out of my mouth. A hotel around here? I wasn’t planning to