After witnessing a horrific crime, Seth is placed in a safe house until he can testify before a Grand Jury. When the safe house is compromised and the two police officers protecting him are killed, Seth is forced to go on the run. In desperate need of help, Seth turns to Dixon, the adopted son of the man who was shot. Together they try to keep Seth alive long enough to testify, which is not easy when there are two hit men who seem to have an uncanny knack of finding them.
The attraction between Seth and Dixon sizzles, but they agree that they should put their feelings on hold until the timing is better. Avoiding their new feelings for each other is just as tough as keeping Seth safe. Before he and Dixon can be sure of a future together, Seth must fight for his life in a final showdown.
North was one of the most popular clubs in town, thrumming with activity no matter what night of the week it was. On a Thursday night, with the weekend fast approaching and bringing with it that last day of school feeling, the place was jumping, hot bodies pressed close together, bathed in a rainbow of colors from the overhead lights.
Behind a glass and chrome bar that ran the entire length of the club, head bartender Seth Gilmore worked his way effortlessly through the crowd of patrons crushed up against the bar, passing out drinks and accepting tips with a wink and a smile.
With the ease of experience, he dispatched three customers to every one of his fellow bartenders' while cracking jokes and flirting just enough to maximize tips, but not so much that anyone could take him seriously.
It was nearly one in the morning, and behind the smile and cheer, Seth was starting to feel a little weary. He'd been on his feet working the bar non-stop since seven, having worked through his break to cover for one of the other guys who'd gone home with some kind of stomach bug. His legs muscles were starting to cramp up and his eyes felt gritty, but the prickle of the small hairs rising at the back of his neck pushed thoughts of small discomforts from his mind. Turning his head to the right, Seth's eyes came to rest unerringly on a figure at the far end of the bar and found an intent gaze focused on him.
Seth cast an appreciative glance over the guy, admiring the way his black leather jacket stretched over wide shoulders. With nothing even approaching subtlety, Seth let his gaze run over a tight-looking torso, and up to a face that was a picture of masculine beauty: full lips tilted up slightly at one corner, high cheek bones and an angular jaw, all topped off with close cut dark hair that spiked up a touch at the front. Seth's cock shifted in his pants and warmth unfurled low in his stomach.
The guy cocked one eyebrow, and Seth felt it like a blow to the gut. Seth bit back a grin and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels. He hadn't had a good eye-fuck in far too long. Snagging a glass, Seth made his way to the end of the bar.
"You look like a JD man." He poured a shot and slid it across the bar. "On the house."
"Good call." The guy picked up the glass and threw back the shot with barely a wince as the liquid hit his throat. He set the glass back on the bar and once again regarded Seth with eyes whose color it was impossible to tell under the blue/green/red of the club lighting. His gaze drifted down to the name tag pinned to Seth's black T-shirt. "Much obliged, Seth."
With as much nonchalance as he could muster, Seth leaned against the bar. "So, you got a name?"
The mobile eyebrow went up again, and the guy seemed to consider before answering, "Dixon."
Seth smiled and held out his hand. Glancing at Seth's hand, Dixon hesitated for a second before wrapping his fingers around Seth's and squeezing.
Heat ran along the length of Seth's arm at the contact that went on a little longer than was necessary.
"You got a minute to talk, Seth?" Dixon's voice was low and slightly husky.
Seth's pulse jumped right along with his cock. For a moment he felt unsure -- he didn't do this, he didn't pick up customers; at best it was unprofessional, at worst it was just plain dumb. But when was the last time he'd met anyone -- customer or otherwise -- who could have his stomach churning with the simple lift of an eyebrow?
"As..." Seth swallowed past the lump of desire that had formed in his throat. "As a matter of fact, I was just thinking that a little fresh air might be in order."
"The alley, in five?"
It was kinda sleazy, really, Seth thought; the back alley behind a nightclub, jostling for space among the dumpsters, but he found that he was nodding his assent, regardless.