Chapter 6
Noah
Lewis Sinclair, the man of the hour. I couldn’t believe he offered to help me, or anything he had done today, really.
The shop alone had nearly wiped out the small cash stash I had.
Not sharing the cost of living with anyone over the last month and then the flights back to Scotland had drained my rainy day fund.
My social media had died with our breakup.
I was empty and didn’t know what even to share with my followers.
Depression core won’t bring in any money. They wanted the lewd pictures I’d trained them so well to expect, and if I didn’t deliver those, my account would drown in irrelevance. It probably already has.
I also had no motivation to post to my OnlyFangs account anymore.
The platform had made me good money in the past, but the longer it went on, the more uncomfortable it felt.
It had been the two of us, my ex-boyfriend and me, posting suggestive videos and nudes.
With Lewis in the mix, it felt weird. Did I really want to share him with my followers?
True, I needed some Scotland content ASAP to keep my income up and to stash more cash for the next phase of my life—wherever that led me.
And I didn’t quite trust Lew yet—what was in this for him?—but what choice did I have? Yet everything in me screamed to keep Lewis to myself.
After dinner, and once I’d stopped crying, we cleared the table together.
“Wash or dry?” I asked him. “This is a crossroads in our relationship, Lewis,” I said in mock earnest.
He stared at me perplexed.
Maybe dial the flirting down a notch, Bright?
“There is only one right answer to my question,” I explained. “Better not mess this up.”
Okay, you need to work on not flirting.
His face stayed impassive for another heartbeat, then a slow grin spread over his lips.
Impossible.
“Dry,” Lew rasped, pursing his lips and cocking a heavy eyebrow at me.
“Congratulations, you passed the test.”
Fuck, why is my voice shaking?
Neither of us spoke as I ran the water, added some of the dish soap, and sorted the dishes. Glass first, then ceramics, cutlery, metal, and plastic last. Always the same order. People who got this wrong or made me dry the dishes gave me anxiety.
A soft sigh escaped me when I plunged my hands into the warm soapy water.
Shit I’d kill for a bath.
“You okay?” Lew chuckled.
“Yeah, I just, never mind.”
You’ll think I’m stupid.
“Yes mind, tell me.” He bumped my shoulder with his massive upper arm.
He smells so nice.
“Come on, we’re fake dating now. I need to know all the things about you so I can be your best fake boyfriend.”
Oh. My. God.
“I love warm water, baths, washing the dishes, pools, hot tubs, all that jazz.”
Lewis cocked an eyebrow at me. “Who doesn’t?”
“You’d be surprised,” I huffed.
My ex-boyfriend for starters.
“So, Noah.” He accepted the first of the plates from me. “What exactly do you need me to do?”
“Uh?” I squinted up at him. “Dry the plate?”
“You don’t say, smart ass.” Lew bumped into me again and chuckled. “I meant about our social media relationship. What do you need me to do?”
“Oh, right.” My face heated. “Sorry, yeah. So uh, it depends on what you’re comfortable with. I’d need a few photos of us, chilling out on the couch, or grabbing coffee.”
“So we’re going to go on dates?”
“If you’re okay with that, yes. I think my followers would like the whole, you know, cuffing season chic.” I choked on my words.
What are you saying, Bright?!
“Cuffing the Tiger.” He snorted. “Not sure I’d want pictures of that on your ArgoS, though.” Lew met my eyes, his wiggling eyebrows and pouty lips about to do my head in.
Don’t imagine him tied to the bed, Noah.
For fuck’s sake, as if that had ever worked before.
Don’t think of the fucking pink elephant, Noah.
I forced my eyes back on the dishes, and exhaled shakily. Nope, that trick of my former therapist had never worked for my brain.
The mental image of Lew, arms stretched up over his head, his wrists tied to the bed frame made from reclaimed wood—the only piece of furniture in here sturdy enough to hold him down—looped in my mind.
I imagined his glorious body stretched out, precum dribbling from his throbbing cock onto his plush fur, and ropes of my cum painting his broad chest.
“Okay, so dates, cosy couple scenes, blankets, knit sweaters, hot drinks, and cuddling?” His voice was a little raspier than before, not that I trusted mine to sound normal with my dick pressing hard against my zipper.
“Stuff like that, yeah.” I cleared my throat loudly. “That’d be really helpful. I can’t pay you, but I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”
Can you manage a bit more innuendo, Bright? It didn’t say ‘Let me pay you in head’ as much as it could have.
“It’s all good. I don’t need any compensation, Noah.” He huffed. “Do you have any idea what you want to do? As far as dates go, I mean?”
“Not yet, no. I’ll have to do my research and come up with a list.”
“I can suggest a few things if you want. I can text you later. You’re probably too tired to make one now.” His eyes darted to the front door as if he contemplated leaving me alone in this crappy shack but thought better of it.
“Actually, I’m way too high-strung and jet-lagged to go to bed. I’d love to hear your suggestions.”
And I could suck your dick just for fun?
“Okay, cool. Let’s finish this up and chill on the couch. You can take the first pic if you like.” He winked at me, and put the rest of the dishes away.
“I’m still amazed you’re doing this for me, Lewis,” I blurted out.
“Well, there are worse things than getting myself a winter husband.” He took the last two beers from the fridge and left for the living room, chortling under his breath.
Fuck. Me.
“We should check out Windmouth Castle,” he said, as I grabbed my bag and took a seat next to him on the couch.
“Roy and his fiancée went there last summer and loved it. It used to belong to Kalon Atax, but she’s donated it to a charity.
They turned it into a modern art museum, and it has a cute little café with cream tea. ”
“Great, that needs to be on the list.” I opened my notebook on a new page, and wrote ‘Winter Husbands Bucket List’ across it.
Windmouth Castle + Cream Tea
“You probably haven’t been to Kirkmuir in a few years, have you? So much has changed, it’s pretty amazing. I bet Roy would love to catch up with you, too.”
“Would we have to stay overnight?” I hesitated, thinking about the added hotel costs.
“Not necessarily, no. It’s about an hour and a half one way, but if you want, yeah.
” He shrugged. “I mean, I could also pay for that. Food and lodgings are part of my salary, and I’m only ever at the estate.
I never get a chance to spend my money on anything.
It would be pretty cool to take a room in Pear Mill, go out in the evening, you know? ”
A room? Excuse me, did you say A ROOM?
“That sounds really nice, but I don’t think I’d feel good letting you pay for a trip we’d be taking so I can document it for social media. If you have a hotel in mind, I can try to get a sponsored deal with them.”
“Famous Noah Bright,” Lew said with no heat behind his words.
“Famous enough maybe.” I shrugged. An influencer past his prime who hates pretty much everything about his life, that’s what I was.
“It’s really cool what you’ve built. I’m sure we can get your income back up again soon.”
We?
“Thank you, Lew. I really appreciate your help,” I told him seriously.
“My pleasure.” A soft smile played on his lips.
“There’s Kincardie Christmas market, and Lone Fox’s, too.
My family doesn’t celebrate Christmas so I’m not expected anywhere.
There’s Diwali, though, at the end of this month.
Hey, maybe we could time our Kirkmuir stay with that?
We could celebrate at that Bengali restaurant near Kat and Roy’s place. That could be fun.”
His enthusiasm overwhelmed me, but it was adorable how invested he was.
And he wants to spend the most important holiday with me?
“That sounds pretty amazing, yeah,” I mumbled, then added his suggestions to the list.
Diwali (Kirkmuir)
Christmas markets
“There are a couple of cute cafés around, and uh, okay this is going to sound weird.” Lew rasped his palm over his neck. “Would you go shopping with me?”
“Shopping?”
“I always wear the same, boring outfit, jeans and something on top. How you threw that capsule wardrobe together earlier was super impressive. I like your style.” His embarrassed grin melted me into a puddle.
This is all fake, Lew, stop being this cute!
“Sure, I’d love to go shopping with you. Do you have anywhere in mind?”
“Well, yeah, we could do that in Kirkmuir. I mean, APEX has a pop-up shop in Inverness for Scotland Fabric this year, but the city’s going to be packed with people and, yeah.”
“Hard pass?” I supplied. “I’m not a fan of crowds, either.”
“Yup, I went last year because they wanted me on the runway. It was too much.”
“On the runway?” I arched my eyebrows at him. “I’ll need pictures of that, Sinclair.”
Flustered Lewis was a beautiful sight. He couldn’t blush, but Christ!
“I have them on my laptop. I can bring that next time.”
“I insist! I didn’t know you modelled.”
He lifted a heavy shoulder. “I only did it to do Roy a favour.”
Somehow this made me see Lewis more clearly. Maybe that’s just who he was, someone who’d go to any length to help the people in his life.
I had to make sure not to exploit him.
“Okay, so we’ll do our shopping when we’re in Kirkmuir. That sounds good.” I smiled at him. “If we can manage, I’d like to go to the seaside, too.”
“Don’t you have enough beaches in Bali?” Again his voice betrayed nothing but kind curiosity. It was so unlike anything I had expected from Lewis Sinclair that it took me by surprise, even though he’d been nothing but lovely to me today.
“I usually only work. Honestly, I don’t think I’d been to the beach more than five or six times in the weeks before I left. Besides, Scottish beaches are different.”
“You’re still pushing yourself hard, then?” Lew rested his heavy head back against the cushion and looked at me.
“Sorry?”
“I remember when we were kids you were always pushing your limits. You had to be forced to slow down.”
This was such an acute assessment of my life that I was momentarily lost for words.
“Add the seaside,” he said gently, inclining his head at the notebook on my lap. “I’m going to leave in a bit. I’m just waiting for the alcohol to leave my system. Never takes long.”
“Shit.” I struggled upright. “I totally forgot you have to drive home. Want me to call you a cab? Or you could stay here. I can kip on the couch.”
“No,” he said with a finality that brooked no argument.
“No fucking way are you sleeping on a couch tonight. You need to rest properly after your travels. I’ll just hang around here for a bit, unless you want me to leave right away.
I only had three beers, and my metabolism deals with alcohol pretty quickly. ”
“No, of course not. You can stay for as long as you like.” I yawned widely.
“By the way, Noah. One last thing. Are you going to tell Ollie, or do you want me to do it?”
Oh shit, yeah, I’d forgotten about my brother. “I’ll tell him, no worries.” I yawned again. “He doesn’t follow my accounts anyway. Says my content isn’t for him.” He was right, and God, I didn’t like the idea of Ollie seeing my lewd photos. But hearing him say that had still hurt.
Lew snarled under his breath. “I had no idea Ollie could be such a cunt.”
“Yeah, well….” I yawned again and rested my head back against the couch cushions, too. I only wanted to close my eyes for a moment.
Gentle arms lowered me onto a bed. Someone tucked me in and pressed a kiss to my forehead. Before I could react, sleep took me under again.
***
A gloomy morning dawned outside the cottage windows when I woke up. It was normal for this time of year, but I couldn’t say I’d missed it.
I rolled over in bed and groaned. My body hurt like I’d been hit by a lorry.
I would do some yoga in a bit, but I needed a wee first, and a wank to get rid of my ridiculous morning wood.
Dreams of Lewis had tormented me all night.
I’d memorised every dip and curve of his ass when I’d walked behind him at the shops. It was unreal how perfectly round his glutes were, and his plushy, thick tail had made me want to offer to bury my face between his cheeks. Which I had done in my sleep. And he’d accepted.
Holy shit.
Once I’d snapped a photo for my followers—one of me looking out into the gloom with my trousers arranged so the bulge was discernible in the grey fabric—I peed and posted it online. ‘Welcome home!’ I wrote in the caption.
Then I grabbed the lube from my suitcase, took yesterday’s trousers and boxers off, and settled down on the bed.
I leaned against the headboard, planted my feet wide and jerked my cock in long, tugging strokes.
Fuuuck. I groaned and hastily slicked my other hand so I could fuck my hole as deep as I could go in this position.
In my head it was Lew’s tongue in my mouth, and his huge fist I fucked as his slick fingers stretched my ass for his cock. Or maybe he’d bottom for me. I imagined how his body would tremble as I ruined his hole.
My body seized up, my abs clenched, and a throaty groan escaped my mouth. I came so hard the cum splattered over my chest and hit my chin. I worked it all out, then lazily ran my fingers through the mess on my stomach.
Horny as I was, I convinced myself it was a good idea to make Lew an offer he couldn’t refuse. I wanted to pay him back in orgasms.
You should wait for your first official fake date before proposing it though.
I chuckled and rolled out of bed, careful not to get cum on the sheets.
Not before I’ve made sure the washer works.
After my shower, I dressed in my yoga shorts and rolled out my travel mat. It didn’t matter where I was or how tiny the space was. As soon as my mantras started playing, I forgot everything around me. The first sun salutations got my blood flowing.
Half an hour later, I was a sweaty, happy mess for the second time that morning. I snapped another picture in which I grinned at the camera. The sweat made my curls all springy and cute. I bet that would be a hit with my followers.
Then I nearly suffered a heart attack when my mantra ended, and a loud knock cut through the momentary silence. A huge head with triangular ears peered through the small window next to the door.
Why that fucking fuck is Lewis here at eight in the morning?
I jumped to my feet and hurried to open the door to a massive white tiger in jeans.
They probably weren’t supposed to be skin tight.
Like the ones he’d worn yesterday, these too, hugged his thighs like a glove.
He had paired them with a hoodie and a black leather jacket that almost made me drool on the floor.