Betrayed yet again by the leather-strapped vamp.

Was Jason mad at Astrid for inviting Mallory over? He was torn. On the one hand, he wanted to buy a flamethrower and smoke the bitch while she slept in her coffin. On the other hand, he wanted to hug her for pushing him into a corner where he had to face the world. He couldn't stay hidden any longer. And if Jason was honest with himself, sitting in front of the TV all day doing nothing was boring as fuck. Mallory visiting him was the perfect distraction he needed.

Since the phone call three days ago, Jason's nerves reached a flash point. He couldn't wait to see his best friend again, but he was also nervous that she'd lead his family to his doorstep. Jason didn't need the drama of a dysfunctional family who wanted to rip each other's throats out. Mind you, he could hardly punch a person without breaking his bones, so he couldn't do shit to them. However, he had an entire building filled with supernatural creatures who wanted to kill his family for what they had done to him.

It was still midday, and Jason was busy drying off the glasses at the bar. He stared at Ishmael as he directed the other doms as they prepared a set piece for the show later that night. It was a demonstration on Shibari, Japanese rope bondage. It actually intrigued Jason.

"Excited for tonight, are we?" came a voice from his right, scaring the last color out of his bleak face.

Jason clutched his chest. "Fuck, Darren. You scared me there. Why did you do that?"

"Just messin' with ya, Púca," the Irish dick said, ruffling Jason's hair as he walked past.

Jason huffed and straightened his hair. Darren was a werewolf, a beta to be exact. He lived in Ireland until his pack killed his mate for being another man. Homophobic pricks! The beta barely escaped with his life. Months later, he showed up at the club looking for work. Four years later, Darren had become the head bartender. Maybe that was why Jason gravitated to the twenty-six-year-old redhead. They shared a loss and betrayal at the hands of those you trusted the most. Well, not in Jason's case. He never trusted his family but never thought for one minute they'd betray him in the manner in which they did.

"Are you on duty tonight?" Jason asked, trying to forget about his family.

Darren smirked and winked at him. "Can't get enough of me, can ya?"

What an ass? Darren caught Jason staring at his ass one time and teased him since then to the point where Jason wanted to hunt him down and skin him alive. How could Jason not stare at the Celtic god's ass? They were perfectly plump and tight; a bullet could bounce off them. Just then, his sexually depraved body betrayed him. His pants tightened uncomfortably. To add to his humiliation, several heads whipped toward him, including Darren's.

Come on! Give me a break.

Jason dropped the dishrag and bolted into the storeroom with snickers trailing his ass. Good job, Jase. You really need to get laid. Jason walked over to a crate and leaned against it while adjusting the stiffness in his jeans. Go down before we get into more of a pickle. It was the most embarrassing thing that could have happened to him, getting aroused in a room filled with werewolves.

"I could help you with that," said a familiar voice.

Jason groaned and slumped forward. "Fuck off, Darren. You're not helping."

Darren strutted into the small room and stroked Jason's cheek. He flinched, expecting the pain that accompanied another's touch, but luckily for Jason, it didn't happen. Ishmael had given him a potion that allowed people to touch him without hurting him. He was happy about it, but Ishmael only solved half the problem; nonetheless, he was grateful to the warlock.

Jason leaned into Darren's touch. The warmth of his calloused hand made his cock jump. He missed the touch of others. Darren slowly lowered his hands, caressing Jason's jaw and then his neck before he kneeled before Jason with a mischievous glint flashed in his green eyes.

Darren reached for Jason's jeans and cupped his throbbing junk. Jason bucked into his grip and moaned while biting into his lower lip. Damn the Irish bastard! If Jason was still waiting for his mate, he would have slapped the older male's hand away. Jason always wanted to wait for his mate, to give them his virginity. A cliché? Perhaps... but he wanted to make it special. But his token of love got trampled into oblivion by his ungrateful ex-mate.

"Darren..." Jason moaned. "If Ishmael catches us we're in deep shit."

Darren chuckled and said, "Then let's finish up before he gets suspicious."

Darren undid his jeans' belt and then its zipper. A few seconds later, his hardened dick sprung free from its confinement. Before Jason could chicken out of their rendezvous, Darren's mouth slid over his leaking head and his shaft disappeared into Darren's warm mouth. Jason's toes curled while his hips buckled forward with the rhythm of Darren's mouth.

"Ahhh! Fuck!" Jason moaned, staring into Darren's eyes while he sucked him off. "This is..."

Darren pulled away with a pop. "Mind blowing?" Jason nodded in agreement. Darren continued his onslaught by sucking his balls. "Have you ever had a blowjob before?"

Jason shook his head. No.

"Then I'll just have to make a lasting impression, so that you could always remember me as the one who gave you your first blowjob." Darren continued taking Jason's dick in his mouth, speeding up.

A few minutes of mind-stuttering pleasure, Jason couldn't hold back his orgasm that barreled closer to the finish line. His balls retracted, and his jolt of pleasure shot down his spine.

"Darren, I'm about to—"

He tried to push Darren off his ticking time bomb that was ready to explode, but the mutt sucked harder and faster until it became futile. Jason clasped both of his hands into the guy's curly hair as he shot past the finish line, emptying his balls into Darren's eagerly awaiting mouth. Not one drop of his essence went to waist.

After fluttering back down to earth from his climax, embarrassment crept into its place. Jason never thought that he'd be one of those people who did dirty things in storerooms during working hours, let alone have someone giving him a blowjob. Not that he was complaining about it, he was sure to remember it for as long as he lived.

Jason, in a daze, sat on the crate while Darren cleaned him up with a handkerchief Darren had in his pants pocket. Darren then stuffed Jason's junk back in his underwear, zipped up his zipper and then retied his belt.

"Well, that was fun." Darren broke the awkward silence. "Come on, Púca. There's nothin' to be ashamed of." He then kissed Jason quickly on the lips. "You're fuckin' delicious."

Jason's hands flew up to his face before he could stop himself, hiding his flustered face. His ears started heating.

"Aww! I love it when you blush." Darren enveloped Jason in a tight hug. "Let's be off before the boss catches us in the act." The Irish devil left the room with a grin and obvious hard-on.

It took Jason a few seconds to regain function of his lower extremities. With a slight wobble in his step, Jason made his way back to the bar. It didn't seem fair to him that Darren took care of him, while Darren received nothing in return. It was still obvious from the mouth-watering bulge in his pants that Darren also required the same attention.

Just as Jason wanted to address the elephant in the room, Darren cut him off. "Don't feel obligated to return the favor." He caressed Jason's cheek.

"You don't want me to?" Jason said.

Darren chuckled and said, "Oh! I do. But if you did it, I might not stop myself from mounting you and fucking you into oblivion. You might break."

What!? He wasn't that fragile that he couldn't enjoy sex. It's true that Jason wasn't as healthy as he used to be, but he was sure he could handle a go between the sheets.

"You want to test it out?" Jason challenged Darren.

"What's going on here?" a voice stabbed Jason in the back.

Oh, shit...

Jason whipped around to see Ishmael and Astrid sitting at the bar, eyeing him suspiciously. He quickly grabbed the dishrag and continued drying the glasses.

"Nothing!" Jason stole a glance at Darren before he turned his attention back to his work.

Astrid leaned forward and took a whiff in his direction. Jason scooted away from her. "Really? Then why do I smell Darren on you?" Her eyes fell to his crotch.

Jason wanted to die on the spot. What was taking his soul so long to crumble into oblivion?

"Astrid. Leave the poor thing alone. He needed to blow off a bit of steam, that's all," Darren said, nudging Jason in the back as he passed him with a box. Bottles of Jack Daniels rattled along the way.

She winked at Darren. "And you release it?" she asked.

Darren howled out a laugh, while Jason couldn't find a space deep enough to hide from his humiliation. What made it worse, Ishmael stared at him with a stone-carved expression that drove daggers into his stomach. Was he mad at him for fooling around with Darren? Jason hoped not. Although Ishmael never forbade fraternization between colleagues, he didn't encourage it. So Jason must have fucked up.

"Don't sweat it, little one. I can see your frazzled and confused mind running in circles." A smile spread across his face. "I'm not mad at you for having fun, but just don't contaminate our stock while you're fooling around back there." His eyes flicked to the storage room.

"Sorry... it won't happen again," Jason said dejectedly. He was stupid for fooling around back there.

Astrid slapped Ishmael on the arm. "Stop making him feel guilty. If I'm not mistaken, didn't I catch you with a hot-looking thing in the pantry of all places?"

Ishmael suddenly squirmed around in his seat, causing everyone to laugh, lifting Jason's spirits a bit.

***

The club swarmed with partygoers. Most of them were supernatural, while only a handful of humans stuck out like a decapitated limb. The DJ was on fire and everyone danced their feet to cinders. Bodies, bound in leather and lace, coiled around each other in an erotic haze.

Jason had a hard time keeping his eyes on his job as he served the customers their drinks. It was a miracle on his part that he didn't mess up an order. The charged atmosphere in the club left him with a permanent boner. How did the other employees cope without ending up humping a customer's leg?

"Jason, are you alright?" Darren asked while wiping the bar off with a rag.

Jason quickly nodded and returned to the tap to fill an order for four beers. It proved a tad tricky, however, since his hands wouldn't stop shaking. Before a pint of beer slipped from his grasp, Darren caught his hand and took over.

"Go back into the staff room and take a break. You've been on your feet for far too long."

"But—"

"No buts. Go." Darren waved Jason off.

Grateful for the break, Jason slumped off to the staff quarters and flopped down onto a red couch in the room's corner. Once the door closed, the room fell silent. Only the hum of the refrigerator kept him company. His feet were killing him. He never thought that bartending was such a draining job. Even his jaw muscles ached from smiling at every customer that bought a drink.

With his eyes still closed, he heard the staff room door opening. Before Jason could move, a hand clamped down onto his jaw. A cold, familiar hand. Jason's eyes snapped open in horror. Two red eyes stared back at him.

"Did you miss me? Little morsel?"

Oh, fuck! Not him!