“I STILL don’t get why we couldn’t stop at the house for a change of clothes. It isn’t that far.” Bo fidgeted in his new pair of distressed leather Ariat boots. He tugged on the cuffs of the slate-gray button-down Adam had picked out for him and tried not to think about how much it had all cost. The designer jeans alone had been over two hundred dollars. “This seems excessive.”
Adam tucked his wallet into the back pocket of his own newly purchased dark-washed jeans. He thanked the cashier and accepted the shopping bags that held the casual clothes they’d worn into the store. He turned from the counter and met Bo’s wary gaze. “Because, young grasshopper, shopping is part of the experience. I said I’d show you the real me, and this is part of the package. I’m a total diva when it comes to clothes. Only the best.”
He brushed an invisible spec of lint from the front of his shirt and flashed a grin so toothy and wide, Bo couldn’t help but return it with one of his own. “Plus, it’s no fun if you don’t have some swagger for your first night under the Vegas lights. And you will, Mr. Wilkins, because you’re lookin’ good.” Adam jogged his brows and motioned toward the exit. “Ready to get this party started?”
The fabric of Adam’s black-and-white pinstriped dress shirt hugged his broad shoulders, the muscles beneath rippling as he guided Bo out the door. It was a distraction, but Bo forced his eyes to meet Adam’s twinkling gray irises rather than roam where they didn’t belong. At least Adam was fully dressed. Although, that didn’t help much, considering the sinful way clothes clung to his body.
Licking his lips, Bo shifted his gaze to the busy crawl of humans choking the sidewalk around them. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”
Adam laughed, the deep vibrato humming through Bo with the same familiar comfort of music played too loud in the car. What would it feel like to press against him when he made that sound? Would it cause Bo’s skin to prickle and the nerves to dance beneath his skin?
Bo squared his shoulders. He had to stop thinking like that. Adam was off-limits. Lusting after his boss wasn’t only stupid, it was also making his daily grind a challenge.
It wasn’t the first time he’d ever found someone attractive, but it was the first time he’d had to crawl into bed with said someone every morning. Bo shivered at the thought of touching Adam’s bare skin, sleep-warm and rock-solid. He groaned and shook his head. He had to focus.
Steering his attention back to the present, Bo held out a hand. “I can take the bags.”
Instead of passing them over, Adam slung the shopping bags over his shoulder, supporting them with a casual crooked finger. The result was something straight out of a fashion magazine. Especially when he cocked his head and offered a model-perfect grin.
“We’ve got plenty of time. Why don’t we drop them off at the car and grab some dinner first?”
Bo bit his lip. He’d fought Adam on the clothes, but the man had insisted he consider them a work uniform. Just one of the perks of the job. It was an excuse, but Bo had caved anyway. He didn’t own anything half this nice. He’d save them for work-related events. Turn the excuse into a truth.
But now dinner? And what did Adam have planned for after? Bo made a mental list of his available funds and came up short. Very short. Still, that didn’t mean he’d let Adam pay. This evening—whatever it was—had nothing to do with work.
“I’m really not hungry, but if you—” A boisterous group crowded out of the nearest casino entrance, their squeals and high-pitched cackles drawing Bo’s attention. At least a dozen women, all wearing or carrying various accoutrements shaped like penises, shoved past them. Bo stumbled and collided with Adam, who dropped their bags to steady him against his chest.
For the second time in less than a week Bo found himself encircled in Adam’s warm, solid embrace. And for the second time he made zero efforts to leave it.
Adam chuckled. Although it wasn’t a full-on laugh, Bo’s earlier suspicions were confirmed. His skin tingled and every nerve in his body thrummed as Adam’s chest rumbled against his.
“Gotta watch out for those bachelorette parties. They’re liable to stampede you flat.”
Bo nodded, relishing the soft cotton against his cheek. He longed to rest his head on Adam’s chest, wrap his arms around him, and drift on a rush of euphoric endorphins.
But he shouldn’t. No, he couldn’t.
He took a deliberate step back. Adam’s arms tightened briefly before falling away, as if creating the distance had been as hard on him as it had been on Bo.
Bending to scoop up their bags, Adam jerked his chin down the Strip in the direction the horde of raucous, penis-wielding women had gone. “Come on. Hungry or not, I guarantee you’ll make room for Giada.”
“Giada?” Bo pinched his brow. That sounded expensive.
Adam tossed their bags over his shoulder in that GQ-chic way that conflicted so acutely with his Beast persona. He rubbed his other hand over the scruff on his chin. “Giada De Laurentiis is a brilliant celebrity chef. She also happens to be a big fan of UFC. We’ve become friends over the years. I’ll hook her up with tickets now and again, and she returns the favor by making sure there’s always a table at Giada for me. Your mouth will thank me later, I promise.”
A zing shot straight into Bo’s balls when he thought of all the ways he could thank Adam with his mouth. He ran a shaking hand through his hair. “That sounds great, but I’m really not hun—”
A warm, callused palm met Bo’s. His stomach jerked in tandem with the tug Adam gave on his hand.
“Just take one bite and I swear you’ll be singing a different tune.” Adam pulled Bo into the throng of humans, his grip tightening when the jostle of the moving crowd had Bo tripping over his own feet. “Tonight’s on me. Go hog-wild. Buy one of everything on the menu, if you want. You won’t regret a single morsel that hits your tongue.”
Bo groaned, thankful the commotion around them covered the noise. His dick tingled to life as more images of his tongue on Adam’s many tasty “morsels” flooded his brain.
Adam charged ahead, his firm grasp a welcome comfort as the bustling mob pressed in from all sides. Bo hurried to keep pace, his roaming thoughts spurred on by the view of Adam’s perfect backside.
By the time they’d dumped their bags at the car and Adam had schmoozed their way into the restaurant, Bo’s racing heart had more to do with his dirty mind than their clipped pace.
Preferring not to make a scene, he acquiesced—again—and enjoyed one of the best meals of his life. Just as Adam had promised. Still, Adam’s moans and whimpers as he relished his food, paired with the many times he licked his lips and the way he placed each bite deliberately into his mouth, had Bo shifting in his seat.
As they devoured their meals, they talked about everything and nothing. The careful guard Bo kept in place slipped, and he found himself not only laughing at Adam’s stories, but telling some of his own.
His heart fluttered when Adam took his hand again to lead him through the thickening crowd. As if it meant nothing. As if that single act didn’t throw Bo’s entire system out of whack.
“Where are we going?” Bo struggled to keep up as Adam’s intimidating bulk parted the sea of humans and his long legs strode purposefully ahead.
Adam tossed a wink and a cheeky grin over his shoulder. “I told you, it’s a surprise.”
Over the past week, Bo had caught glimpses of the lighthearted, fun-loving man currently tugging him down the congested Strip. Although at apparent odds with the reputation Bo had read about, this side of Adam felt increasingly genuine. Like the jerky meathead he was so well known to be was the real act, and this soft, sweet, goofy side was his true persona.
Bo was in so much trouble. The more time he spent with this kind, charming, and decidedly non-Beast of a man, the more that physical pull became something much stronger. Lusting was bad enough. He couldn’t start crushing on his boss. No way, nohow.
But when Adam led him into the Planet Hollywood hotel and dragged him to the Will Call box office outside the V Theater, every bit of his self-determination went soaring out the window.
Bo flashed back to Adam’s twinkling eyes as he’d winked and said, I’m gonna show you the man behind the Beast. This was it. This was the defining moment. The big “reveal” of Adam’s true self. And it came in the form of Evil Dead The Musical.
Why that twisted Bo’s heart and brought a grin to his lips, he might never understand. But it did. Ho boy, did it ever.
Adam dropped Bo’s hand to fork over his ID and a credit card and received two tickets in return. He waved them in the air, his face beaming with joy. “I hope you aren’t too attached to those clothes.”
“Uh….” Bo glanced at his brand-new outfit. He screwed up his face. “Actually, I’ve grown quite fond of them.”
Adam accepted two white T-shirts from the woman behind the ticket window. He handed one to Bo, then shook out the other and held it out for Bo to see. In bloodred letters, it screamed, “Evil Dead The Musical. I survived The Splatter Zone.”
Shaking his head, Bo took a step back. “Nuh-uh. No way.”
“Yes huh, and yes way.” Adam grinned and pulled the shirt over his head. “Go on, garb up. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience you’ll never forget. I promise.”
“But—”
“No buts.” Adam snatched Bo’s shirt out of his hands. “Arms up. You either work with me here or I’ll resort to tickling.”
Bo instinctively pressed his arms closer to his sides to protect his most vulnerable ticklish spots. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would, and I have. Ask Kyle’s cranky ass. I had to fight him on this too. He didn’t regret it, and neither will you.”
With a sigh, Bo raised his arms. The oversized shirt would do very little to protect his beautiful new clothes, but the look of childish delight on Adam’s face was all the convincing he needed.
Whatever lay ahead, it would be worth it to see Adam this happy.
As Adam latched on to his hand and marched toward the theater entrance with an unstoppable grin spreading his cheeks, Bo accepted defeat. How in Hades was he supposed to not crush on a man that perfect?
They took their seats—front and center, no less—and Adam pumped a fist into the air. One of the crew members scurrying around the stage gave him a thumbs-up in response.
“Once in a lifetime, huh?” Bo rolled his eyes.
Adam offered an innocent shrug, followed by a wicked grin. “Once-in-a-lifetime experiences can be repeated, ya know. Plus, half the fun is singing along. How’re you supposed to do that if you haven’t seen it before to learn the words?”
Yep. He was in serious trouble. The man behind the Beast had his claws in Bo’s heart, whether he wanted him to or not.