Jeremy sat in the back seat of the cab and swayed forward as it came to a stop opposite the Ramrod. What a crazy name for a club. Then again, what a crazy place to meet his date. He checked the messages on his phone one more time. Sure enough, the same email from Madame Eve popped up.

Your date awaits you at Club Ramrod. Look for yellow by the bar and you will find your heart’s delight. Tell the bouncer Eve sent you.

Sure. He sighed and paid the driver. His hands shook and his mind raced. What the hell had he gotten himself into? Sure, the club scene worked for him, but he hated the grind. Hated the clawing bodies and hangers-on. He crossed the street and took his place in line. Maybe no one would recognize him. He’d switched from green to blue streaks in his hair. When he got to the door, he gave the bouncer the phrase Madame Eve had given him.

The hulking man nodded, then shuffled him to the bar. “Don’t cause a fight.”

Don’t cause a fight? Jeremy snorted. Whatever. He scanned the crowd around the massive black and white bar. Men talked and laughed, some cuddled each other and a couple sat on each other’s laps. At the far end, he noticed yellow. His heart raced and his mouth went dry. He nibbled on the piercing.

“No fucking way,” he murmured. Trace Robeson, the man who featured in every one of his naughty fantasies clutched a beer in one hand and his hooked the thumb of his other hand in his jeans pocket. The man oozed classy sex. His faded T-shirt cradled his body like a second skin, giving teasing glimpses at the chiseled flesh underneath. His jeans cupped his crotch and outlined his package. The ripped areas showed off his natural tan to a tee.

Jeremy wobbled on his feet and thanked the gods for granting him his wish. He strode across the club. When he made eye contact with Trace, he grinned.

“Hey man. Good seeing you here.” Trace offered his hand.

“Yeah. It’s nice to see a friendly face.” Jeremy held up his hand for a beer. “I’m here to meet my destiny.”

“Are you...” Trace didn’t finish his question.

“Your date?” Jeremy replied. “I’m looking for a man in yellow. Don’t see too many others rocking that color—so well.” Christ, he sounded so lame.

“I was told my date would find me.”