Infamous Park Avenue Prince (Park Avenue Princes Book 1)
Infamous Park Avenue Prince: Chapter 11

“AHH, THE GALLANT prince returns home empty-handed. Tell me, did you manage to sneak the golden boy back into the castle without mother dragon detecting his absence?”

I glared at East where he sat in his velvety chair sipping his usual martini, then toed off my shoes. “Mother dragon doesn’t live there, and the golden boy was home before the stroke of—”

“Your hand?”

I snorted and made my way to the sofa, where I grabbed one of the pillows and flopped down at one end, stuffing it behind my head. “You’re such a dick.”

“Yes, and the only one you’re going to be in the presence of anytime soon if you keep playing your cards like you did tonight.”

I stretched my legs out along the sofa and placed my hands behind my head. “Oh, I don’t know, I think I played my cards just right tonight.”

“By avoiding your date and letting some random slip and slide all over you?”

“Slip and slide?”

East gestured to the open shirt that hung off my body. “Don’t act like you weren’t putting on a show for the guy. Getting all hot and sweaty up in that club.”

I angled my head in East’s direction. “Seems like I was putting on a show for you, too.”

He grimaced and took another sip of his drink. “No thanks. But I’m not sure that ‘make him jealous’ tactic worked out too well. You know, since you’re sitting at home alone with me.”

I laughed and went back to staring at the ceiling, not worried in the slightest. East was right, of course—I’d definitely been putting on a show tonight for one person in particular, and it wasn’t the guy I’d danced with.

I’d made sure to keep my conversation and interactions with JT friendly and, at times, a little flirty. But I’d made it a point to go and dance with some “random,” as East was referring to him, in the hopes of sparking some kind of reaction from JT—and boy did I get one. I could still feel his eyes on me now, trailing down over my body, zeroing in on my naked chest where my dance partner had been trailing his hands over every muscle.

I might be sitting here alone with East right now, but I’d done what I set out to—make JT think about me.

“Did you fall asleep over there?”

“Nope. I’m just lying here thinking about where I’m going to go when I win this bet you laid down.”

East snorted and pushed to his feet. “Please, you aren’t winning anything. That boy is straight as an arrow. He told you as much on your little lunch date, remember?”

I did, but there was nothing straight about the heat I’d felt emanating from JT’s stare across the dance floor tonight.

“Make yourself useful, would you, and get me a drink?” I said.

“To drown your sorrows?”

“More like to drown you out. I’m busy visualizing here, and you’re interrupting.”

East grunted and walked off to the kitchen, but I was under no illusion it was because I’d told him to—his own glass was now empty.

“So,” East called out. “You have any place in mind?”

“Interrupting again…”

“That means no, and you want to know why?”

“If I say no, will you shut up?”

“It’s because you know you’re going to lose. Face it, Golden Boy is into girls, and as pretty as you are—”

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?”

“You, my friend, are known as a cocky, seductive bastard for a reason.”

I grinned to myself. It was true, I was known as that, but for a good reason—I could back up the claims. Being rich afforded me pretty much whatever I wanted. Being…well, seductive as East said, afforded me whoever I wanted, and once I had them, my cock did the rest of the work.

So maybe my equipment wasn’t what JT was thinking about at the moment. But by the time this bet was done, it was all he was going to be able to think about.

“We need to work on getting you a drink that’s easier to make, for fuck’s sake. So many ingredients.”

I sat up and reached for the bourbon sour. “It’s probably the most work you’ve done all day.”

“All week, really, but who’s keeping score?” East settled back in his chair, his martini glass refilled, as I crossed my ankles on the coffee table. “So, where are you thinking of vacationing?”

I took a sip. “I thought you said I had no hope of winning.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“You don’t.”

I arched a brow and then cradled the glass between my hands on my lap. “Then why do you care?”

“Because you’re such a cocky bastard.” East crossed his legs and eyed me. “And you look like that. So on the off chance you do manage to make this kid notice you, I want to know how much money I’m going to have to shell out.”

“A lot. I’m working hard for this.”

“More like you’re working your ass for this.”

“What can I say? I like a challenge.”

“More like you enjoy a pretty fucking face.” East smirked. “Or, should I say, you enjoy fucking a pretty face.”

“He does have a pretty face.”

I looked at the time and groaned as I pushed up to my feet. It was just turning two thirty, and I was more than ready to crawl into bed.

“Doesn’t make up for those horrid jeans, though.”

“So he doesn’t spend a month’s rent on a pair of pants.” I walked off toward my side of the condo and called out, “It’s not going to make a difference when they’re on the floor.”

“Cocky bastard.”

I didn’t bother turning as I waved him off, chuckling as I stepped into my room. I closed the door and leaned back against it, draining the rest of the bourbon sour. I felt the warmth of the alcohol running though my veins as I placed the glass on top of the bureau and began to unbutton my pants.

Tonight had been the perfect way to bring JT into the fold without drawing suspicion, and it had worked like a charm. Arrhythmia had been awesome. The vibe, the energy, was exactly what I needed to showcase my attributes, while also acting as a damn good ice-breaker when it came to my group of friends.

I shoved my briefs and pants off my hips and kicked them aside, wanting nothing but to fall into my bed and not move for the next few hours. But the second I pulled the cool, smooth sheets over my warm skin, my brain and dick had other ideas.

I snaked my hand down my body and spread my legs, wrapping my hand around the hottest part of me, and as my cock throbbed, I was reminded of the music that had vibrated through the club tonight.

Closing my eyes, I thought back to the dark space where shadows and smoke hid wandering hands, but pulsing blue lights gave way to secrets—and that was when I saw JT. His gaze locked on me as I touched his waist, and later when my dance partner’s hands had traced the lines of my body in a way I wanted JT’s tongue to, and my fingers tightened.

I arched my head back into the pillow as the memory replayed—the wandering hands, JT’s curious eyes, my aching dick—and my hips jutted up off the mattress. I shoved my cock through my fist, gnashing my teeth together as I imagined JT dancing in front of me. JT’s fingers trailing each and every muscle. JT’s curious eyes begging me for more.

I groaned as the fantasy became clearer, as the feelings coursing through me intensified, and the sticky pre-cum leaking from my cock started to make a mess of my hand.

This wasn’t what I’d planned when I crawled in here tonight, but damn if it wasn’t where I was going now. I reached for my bedside drawer and grabbed the bottle of lube, and seconds later, my slippery palm was working my dick like it hadn’t seen action in years instead of weeks.

I squeezed my eyes shut, once again bringing up the image of JT. Those messy brown curls, slightly sweaty from being in the crowd. That pouty mouth singing and smiling, wrapping around a bottle of water at the end of the night. That body under a simple pair of jeans and a shirt, and how it would look like if—no, not if, when—I stripped him out of them.

I began to move my fist faster, the idea of getting my hands on a naked JT spurring on the orgasm I could feel building. I slid my palm down between my thighs to cradle my balls and squeeze, then arched my head back and groaned.

Christ. It’d been a long time since I’d lain in this bed and gotten myself off. Usually I had someone here doing it for me. But fuck if I wanted anyone else tonight.

JT was all I could think about, all I could see in my mind. It’d been less than a week and he was consuming every waking, sleeping, and masturbatory moment of my time.

I widened my legs, working my hand overtime now as I brushed my thumb over the sticky head of my dick.

“Fuck…” I panted into the room, moving my hips at a more rapid pace as I circled back to our lunch date—and yes, it was a date. I remembered the sounds JT made while tasting every bite, and wondered if he’d make the same while tasting me. Those curls brushing my thighs, that eager tongue sampling something new, and those eyes pleading with me to show him everything he’d been missing.

I would, too. I’d show him how good it felt to have another guy take his lips and kiss them until they needed to draw breath. How good it felt to have that rough push and pull. I’d show him how it felt when someone who knew how to work a cock worked his—and that thought was the one to do it.

I clamped my fist around myself and pulled, gripping my throbbing length like I knew JT’s tight ass would, and the next thing I knew, I was coming all over myself.

My chest heaved as the rush dissipated, and as my breathing calmed, I let go of my satiated cock and draped an arm over my eyes. As that delicious feeling of satisfaction swept over me, I doubled down.

I would win this bet.

JT would be mine.

I had this, and I never failed.

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