The Queen & the Homo Jock King by TJ Klune Read Free Book Online Page B

it was getting harder and harder to escape a hangover the older I got. That was a depressing thought, especially being only thirty-one. My body was an asshole that way.
    Izaac was shirtless, as the bartenders often were. He was also straight as hell, with a muscled chest and stomach, a trail of hair below his belly button. Regardless of what else he was, he had the right idea, working in a place like this. He was cute in a bland Abercrombie cookie-cutter sort of way, all-American blond hair and blue eyes. He made a shit-ton in tips and then went home to his girlfriend. Straight boys could make a killing in a gay bar, with the whole forbidden fruit thing going on. This world was filled with gay-for-pay porn and gay-for-you romance, so they saw him as a challenge. He made bank, the boys got to flirt, and everyone went home happy.
    Of course I had to hit on him. It’s just what Helena did. She devoured little boys like him and loved it when he blushed under the attention. We both knew nothing would ever come of it, and I didn’t even want it to. But it was fun to poke and prod, and I liked him more than any of the other bartenders or barbacks. He took my shit, but he knew to give it right back.
    “My Queen,” he said as I approached.
    “My questionable heterosexual,” I said, leaning over the bar and kissing his ear.
    He grinned at me as he set two shots of Patrón on the bar. “You wouldn’t even know what to do with me if I swung that way.”
    I grinned at him, showing far too many teeth. “Kitten, there would be nothing left by the time I was done with you. I would destroy you.”
    He clutched his hands over his heart and sighed dramatically. “With an offer like that, who I am to resist?”
    “You’ll give in.” I slammed back one of the shots. It burned as it went down. I placed the glass back on the bar. “They always do.” I brushed a trace of tequila off my lips and licked my finger.
    “Maybe I like to go slow.” He leaned forward, elbows on the bar. He had these pert little nipples that just begged to be twisted. “All gentle-like.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Then, honey, you’re talking to the wrong queen.” I took the other shot and felt myself even out. “I don’t do slow and gentle.” Well, I did, but very rarely. It was an intimacy that I didn’t quite allow myself to have.
    “My girlfriend hates it when I do it slow and gentle,” he said seriously.
    I grimaced. “Ugh, that is such a waste.”
    “What? That I have a girlfriend?”
    “No, that you like it slow and gentle. It’s unbecoming of a man with nipples like yours.”
    He blushed and there it was. It was probably a good thing he was straight, because if he hadn’t been, I probably wouldn’t have been able to resist having his cock down my throat the second night he worked. What could I say, I obviously just cared too much.
    “I’m never going to be able to look at my nipples the same way again.” He sighed.
    “There, there.” I patted his hand. “I’ll do all the looking for you, and somehow, life will go on. Now stop distracting me. I have a show to do.”
    Izaac rolled his eyes. “Your baby queens are already back behind the stage. I think Summer Zeeve was having a little freak-out earlier.”
    My jaw tightened. Summer was a newer queen who had impressed me during her auditions with her ability to crab walk backward while gyrating her crotch toward the ceiling directly on the beat from Nine Inch Nails’s “Closer.” She was young, brash, and somehow, didn’t have a goddamn lick of common sense.
    Most drag queens were also drama queens. You really couldn’t be one without the other. However, it was meant to be part of your persona, to add to the whole package. Summer tended to forget that and was about drama for drama’s sake. She liked to have mini-meltdowns prior to shows, saying she was too scared to go on, that she just wasn’t ready . It usually took me snarling in her face a bit before she would smirk quietly