Master, Master {ManxMan} {BDSM}

Chapter Fifteen

{Chapter Fifteen}

"Jason, you really need to stop dragging me here. I'm seeing parts of women I never wanted to see. You're just making me gayer than I already was," Christian complains. I roll my eyes and pull out a crumpled single from my wallet, I lean into the stage and slip it in a pretty brunette's pink bra. She winks at me before moving to dance on the pole and I sit back in my chair.

"You just don't see the artistic appeal. They're creating art right before our eyes. It's beautiful,"

"Beautiful to see men jacking off in the shadows where they think no one can see them?" He deadpans, his eyes trained on a man doing just that. I shrug with a laugh, but I don't answer and instead motion a new, sexy waiter over. He comes over to our table to see what I want, his deep gray eyes seemingly bored.

"Two shots of your top shelf rum," I order and hand him my credit card. He nods and leaves without a word. Christian fills the silence the waiter left in his wake.

"Rum? You do know you have to drive us home, right?" He demands. I shake my head and take the two shot glasses the waiter delivers a minute later.

"No," I start after the waiter leaves again. "I'm not driving, you are."

He opens his mouth to say something but pauses when I down both the shots. The liquid burns all the way down my throat where it settles and starts warming my blood. The two shots are not near enough to get drunk off of, just enough to start the process.

"Jay, I really don't think it's a good idea to get drunk right now. You're still upset over David leaving Monday, it's not good to drink when you're emotional." Christian reprimands. I snort and roll my eyes, tossing a five towards a blond who looks like she's in college, working the job to pay off student loans.

"You're one to talk," I mutter, swallowing the next two shots the hot waiter brings. I order two more and down them just as quick as the last four. By now the liquor is starting to make my blood burn in my veins, my legs feel like I just ran a marathon and my mind is too fogged to care what I'm saying anymore.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Christian demands.

"You're the one who has been constantly drinking lately because your parents want you to visit. Fuck your brother, if he gives you shit then show him you won't stand it. Stand up to the prick, you moron. He's younger than you, you have seniority. Act like it, stop being a pussy hiding halfway across the country drinking so you don't have to deal with your kid brother. Grow a pair." I rant in irritation. Christian huffs next to me but doesn't say anything, instead he just stands and holds his hand out to me.

"Give me your keys, we're leaving," he orders sharply. I laugh, finding his anger far too amusing. I get up and reach into my pocket for my keys to hand to him. He grabs them and we leave the strip club after Christian closes my tab at the bar.

He helps me into my huge truck before he moves around to the other side to drive. He adjusts my seat and mirrors then begins to drive towards his apartment.

"Why do I have such a big truck?" I question in confusion, looking behind me to the gigantic cargo space. Two rows of seats that are currently down to provide literally enough space to sleep in.

"I don't know, Jay, I wasn't there when you bought it." Christian replies. I nod and look out the window at the passing houses, most run down since we're in the lower class part of town.

"Think maybe I was overcompensating for something?" I muse. He laughs heavily at this to the point that he swerves a bit but gains control immediately.

"I doubt you have anything to compensate for. Actually, no, unfortunately I can confidently say you were not compensating for something." He replies with a shudder. I laugh at that because over the years he has seen me naked far too many times than I know he would like. He's just one of those people who come in at the worst possible second, very unlucky for sure.