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Brian took a slow swallow of the beer the bartender placed in his hand, his eyes surveying the crowd in a typical analytical fashion. It was always for dual purposes. First and foremost, his mind was on business, at least until tonight's lucky twink caught his eye. He owned Babylon, as well as his advertising agency. The bottom line was focal; however, not all-inclusive. He was about to go up on the catwalk when another man at the end of the bar caught his attention. It looked like he was going to have some fun at someone else's expense. This was an opportunity he never thought to have... at least, not until earlier tonight.

 

Sauntering over as if he had all the time in the world, Brian wedged his body in between the tight space at the bar, his eyes dancing in devilish lights. "Well well, what do we have here? No exclusive sneak peeks on the agenda tonight?"

 

Turning his head to face the arrogant and smirking brunet beauty, Brandon grimaced, knowing in an instant that Brian had watched his interview with Justin Taylor... and being the intuitive SOB that he was, had seen so much more. "Apparently not." Brandon sneered in Brian's direction. "Business must be slow if you are watching the early evening news. I'm just broken up about that, Kinney. It's a good thing you have a lucrative side business."

 

"I wouldn't trouble yourself about my business affairs, Greene. I am ridiculously solvent." Brian tilted his head to this side, surveying Brandon closely. "Tell me, Brandon... how did it feel being on the receiving end? My offer still stands. I would be more than glad to fuck you, and then you will have the experience to make a true comparison."

 

"Fuck you, Kinney! How about this? Why don't you go fuck yourself!" Brandon exploded, his outburst gaining the attention of both the bartender and the other men at the bar.

 

Brian held his hand up when his bartender moved to intercede. "It's fine, Maurice. Brandon is just blowing off some steam. Isn't that right, Brandon?"

 

"Yeah sure. Whatever."

 

Leaning in closer, his breath fanning Brandon's neck, Brian asked, "How big is his cock? I don't see you dancing looking for your twink of the night. Don't tell me the young stud was too much for your tight ass..."

 

Brandon turned to fully face the aggravating and all too gorgeous brunet, his eyes pulling to Brian's mouth, a mouth that was defined by lips that were meant to entice and have the capability of giving a man indescribable pleasure. An all-knowing glint entered Brandon's eyes, a look of arrogant, self-confidence emitting. "What's the matter, Brian? Jealous this hot young thing could succeed where you failed? Perhaps you are not the one with the big bad cock after all..."

 

Hearing the familiar sound of exuberant laughter behind him, Brian ignored it, not a doubt in his mind of the questions his friends would soon be asking. "I would require that theory to be substantiated before placing any credence in it. You could help me with that."

 

"Help you how?" Brandon returned, having a slight suspicion where this could be leading.

 

Brian shrugged, giving the appearance of indifference; although both of them knew he was anything but nonchalant. "I would be interested in making a business meeting with Mr. Taylor. I'm sure I could obtain this information on my own... but you could save me so much time."

 

Brandon snorted. "Business hell. You are just looking to get your dick up his ass." Shaking his head in amusement, Brandon found the entire idea the height of hilarity. Ignoring the familiar faces of Brian's friends, he brutally told him, "You don't have a chance, Kinney. I know a lost cause when I see one, and Justin Taylor exudes dominant tendencies. He will coldly refute every one of your most blatant attempts. You will leave the exchange feeling belittled and far beneath him. But do go on, Brian. Prove to us all that your legendary status is about to become a thing of the past."

 

A gasp sounded behind him, his head swiveling around to see Michael glowering at Brandon. Great, he thought to himself. Just what he most needed, Michael seeking to defend and protect him... a man that more than excelled on doing that on his own. "Save it, Michael. This has nothing to do with you... and something you know nothing about."

 

"But Brian... he's insulting you." Michael's voice was already at its whiny best. "You can get any man you want. There's no way some new twink can take over your status as the King of Liberty Ave."

 

Brandon scoffed. "The King - as it were - is about to be dethroned... if Justin Taylor decides to become a presence on Liberty Avenue."

 

A choking and gurgling sound materialized behind them. All of them turned to look at Emmett in irritation. Emmett stammered, "D-did you say, Justin Taylthe or? The Justin Taylor of Metropolitan Man?"

 

"Congratulations, Honeycutt. You are doing a stellar job of keeping caught up on my private conversations." Brian's tone was dry, his mood quickly darkening as his intrigue of the hot, yet still unknown man that held him enthralled. How could that even be? He hadn't even met the man yet, and still, his awareness was at an all-time high.

 

Emmett gasped. "That is who you are talking about? I caught the interview on the evening news." A dramatic sigh followed. "Isn't he the most dreamy dish ever? What I wouldn't give to be taken over by him."

 

Brian grunted. "Dream on, Emmalina. He is a bit out of your league."

 

Brandon chuckled. Brian was clearly agitated by everything associated with Justin Taylor. "He's out of your league too... unless you have this sudden desire to be a bottom boy. Then, he might give you a go." It was his job to know everything newsworthy about a man such as the CEO of Metropolitan Man. Perhaps divulging where Justin was staying would be fun. It would be amusing to watch the arrogant Mr. Kinney strikeout after utilizing his most practiced and typically successful attempts.

 

"Out of Brian's league? Are you fucking kidding me, Brandon?" Michael's face contorted in a look of affronted rage as he began to sputter. "Brian can h-have anyone he wants. A-anyone. If Brian wants this Justin Taylor to bottom for him... then, h-he will. Believe it!"

 

Emmett cackled, clapping his hands in glee. "Oh baby, we all know of Brian's immense prowess... but Justin Taylor is simply different. I know you don't follow the news so you can't possibly understand, but I have to agree with Brandon here. Justin Taylor is an unattainable top." Emmett sighed deeply. "Blessed be all of us nelly bottoms in the world..."

 

Brian rolled his eyes. "Unattainable? I doubt it, Honeycutt." He nodded in Brandon's direction. "Obviously, even the unattainable can be shaken."

 

Michael's eyes grew wide, his head turning back and forth between Brandon and Brian. "Y-you're kidding me, right? Brandon bottomed for this kid... but wouldn't for you. Fucking hell. Maybe this kid does have something."

 

"Listen, I have had enough of this conversation. I think I'll hit the backroom." He looked indulgently at each of them, giving them all his trademark ‘I don't give a fuck' stare.

 

Pissed and humiliated that Brian had outed him to everyone within hearing distance, not considering the fact that his own behavior on camera today had done the same, Brandon decided to give a little back, not a doubt in his mind that if any fucking occurred between Brian and Justin Taylor, Brian would be the one with the dick up his ass. And when that happened, he would make certain the untouchable Mr. Kinney never lived it down.  "Or I could divulge some information and let you know where Justin Taylor is staying."

 

Brian's back tensed as he had begun to turn away, unable to ignore Brandon's baiting, the challenge of the young CEO causing excitement to churn within him. He shrugged, his eyes briefly scanning the room. "Why not? I've fucked everyone here."

 

Brandon wasn't about to voice the obvious retort of ‘not me', realizing this unwanted banter had gone on long enough. "The Four Seasons. He's booked for a prolonged stay. I doubt you'll even make it through his door... but perhaps you'll get lucky and run into him." Brandon's eyes glittered as Brian's bored look took on another expression he had seen time and time again, both in himself and the alleged King of Liberty Avenue. Predatory with a single target in sight.

 

"Goodnight boys." Brian gave them all a brief look, before announcing, "The big bad cock is going hunting." He cast a warning look in Michael's direction. "Don't bother me tonight. I plan to be busy long into the night."

 

Emmett arched a dubious brow while Michael smiled adoringly at his best friend and idol. Both men had different perceptions of how Brian's night would end.

 

Assertively, Michael stated, "Brian will be fucking him within the hour."

 

Snickering before heading to the backroom, Brandon muttered, "How I wish I could watch... but the evidence will be there for us all to see."

 

Eyes barely acknowledging Brandon's departure, Emmett spoke to Michael with utter certainty. "I don't think so, baby. I'm not sure how I know, but I just do." Emmett grinned as he watched Brian's confident stride through the sea of hot bodies, his destination clearly the front entrance, with his ultimate one being Justin Taylor's hotel. How he wished he could see if the mighty would fall on this night... for some reason, and for the very first time, he found that to be more than likely.

 


 

Brian sauntered up to the front desk of the Four Seasons, a curt nod having been extended to the doorman as he had been allowed to pass through. His eyes narrowed on the name badge, a slow smile curving his lips as he identified one of his former tricks. It was so beneficial being him. Constantly, he was awarded some very special connections. This one could be the best one of all. He nearly laughed when he thought of Brandon. How would the obnoxious news hound feel when he discovered he had succeeded where he had failed... and in a big way? Fucking Justin Taylor would be sweet enough... but throwing it in Brandon's face would be icing on the cake.

 

Before looking up, the concierge efficiently yet coldly asked, "May I help you, Sir?" A flush crawled from his cheeks to his neck when he recognized his hook-up from a few nights ago. Clearing his throat, not wanting to call attention to that connection, his eyes widened as he asked again, "Sir?"

 

Smirking, Brian's eyes slid over the man suggestively. "No need to be so formal. I seem to have forgotten your name. I suppose it's good that you have a name badge to identify you." Brian smiled knowingly as the man began to fiddle with his collar, apparently in a state of profound unease. Brian was disgusted. He hated anyone who was dishonest with their sexuality. Fuck the breeder world. He blamed queers that acted in such a manner as one of the primary conditions of what afflicted the gay community. As long as pricks like this one carried themselves in such a manner, they had no hope of evolving to any sort of equality. Shaking his head at the deep thoughts, knowing that was the last place he wanted to immerse himself in now, Brian crisply stated, "I am looking for Justin Taylor. If you could just direct me to his suite."

 

Eyes widening, his face contorted into abject horror. "I'm sorry, Sir. I simply cannot do that."

 

"And why not?" Brian countered, aggression in his every word. "He is staying here... correct?"

 

"I cannot divulge personal information regarding our hotel guests." Instantly, he knew he had indeed admitted to the presence of Justin Taylor as being registered at the hotel... but was determined not to bow to any pressure by the very domineering Brian Kinney. Denying the obvious was undoubtedly a waste of time. It was apparent that Brian knew Justin Taylor was a guest of the hotel; however, that was all the information he would be getting from him.

 

"Look, I understand that you are committed to protecting the privacy of your guests. I respect that. I just need to speak with him. If it makes you feel any better, I will make certain you are not implicated." Sensing that discretion was of ultimate importance to this particular guest, and obviously nervous concierge as well, Brian kept his voice lowered; in this instance knowing that tact would get him much further than any sort of aggressive behavior. "The room number is all I need."

 

Shaking his head, he continued to be insistent in holding his ground. He couldn't divulge the room number; however, there was one thing he could do... something that wouldn't necessarily point the finger of blame back at him. "I can't give you that, Sir." Arching a brow, he took a risk that he knew could backfire, depending on how much it angered the hot-headed Brian Kinney. "I happen to know where he is right now... and it isn't in his suite. I might be willing to share that with you... with adequate compensation."

 

Rolling his eyes, Brian dryly responded, "I don't give repeat performances." He reached into his pocket, removing two fifty-dollar bills. Extending it forward, Brian told him, "This will have to suffice; I didn't come here prepared to haggle..."

 

Eyes darting around the busy lobby, his voice lowering to a mere whisper, he closed his hand over Brian's, taking the offering, aware that eyes were discreetly observing them... an indication that this needed to be resolved soon. "You are not a guest here, Mr. Kinney, and I don't intend to be confronted with awkward questions. Mr. Taylor is in the hotel bar; I believe seated alone at a table. I passed by and noticed him on his laptop, perhaps working. That's all the time I have for you..."

 

Brian pulled his hand free, a predatory smile curving his lips. "Thank you. That's all I needed." Moving toward the bar in his standard panther prowl, Brian was determined to make the young billionaire accept a new reality. Justin Taylor was about to meet his match. The blond would be begging for him. That was how it always worked. This man would be no different.

 


 

Justin surreptitiously watched the man standing in the doorway of the bar, the man's body language indicating he was looking for someone. And what a body it was, he thought to himself. The jacket he wore hid his upper torso, but even from a distance, he could see the man was in very good shape... a man that undoubtedly worked at keeping himself fit. When their eyes briefly connected from across the room, Justin quickly looked back down, suddenly sensing he was who this man was seeking.

 

He didn't play that game. When he wanted a man, he sought one out. He was the hunter... never the prey. He always did the chasing. No matter how hot the man may be, and this man undoubtedly was one of the hottest, he did not allow himself to be placed at a disadvantage. His fingers continued to move on his keyboard, his eyes glued to the screen, a slight feeling of excitement growing in him as he felt the stranger's approach. He was surprised at how anxious he felt about a possible encounter with this man; curious if he would look as good up close as he had from across the room.

 

His eyes didn't waver from his computer when he felt a towering presence next to him. Despite the man's height advantage, he was still in control of this interaction... whatever that ended up being. Continuing to type, Justin still didn't look up, as he emitted a curt, "I'm not interested in whatever it is that you're trying to push."

 

The voice spoke huskily, obviously a man accustomed to gaining the attention of anyone he sought out. "Perhaps I can change your mind... Mr. Taylor."

 

Justin blinked slowly, his hands reaching out to close his laptop, certain his diversionary tactics were a complete waste of time. As a man of supreme control, he enforced calm over himself, the man's sultry voice having an immediate effect on his cock. With the greatest of slowness he could muster, Justin raised his head to look into what were beautiful and mesmerizing hazel eyes, one clear thought prevailing.

 

Predator had just met predator. This was going to be such fun...

 

TBC

 

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