Chapter 12 #3
I liked the place just fine—the plain cream walls, the sleek black couch, the sliding glass door to a small deck with a view of the Charles—and someday I was going to make a mint when I sold it, but it had never been the sort of space that gave off relaxing vibes. Not until Gage was there with me.
“You didn’t seem traumatized when we were in the store,” I noted.
“Poor Jeremy, the personal shopper who overheard you giving me a friendly erection check, on the other hand, is probably traumatized in the extreme. And that was before you pulled me into the dressing room with you and locked the door. The poor man’s pearls have probably never been clutched so hard. ”
Gage shook with quiet, wicked laughter. “I bet you that was not the first time he’s seen a guy pull his boyfriend into a dressing room.
Probably not the first time this week. And Jeremy looked like the sort of guy who was more likely to have his ear pressed against the door than to clutch his pearls. ”
The idea of someone listening to us made me shift in my seat just a little.
So did the word boyfriend.
This was another moment when I could have stopped and pulled back, explained that casual relationships like ours didn’t use that label.
Once again, I did not. And once again, I didn’t let myself think too hard about my own strange behavior.
“I’ve probably been banned from shopping on Newbury Street, and you’re not even appropriately sympathetic,” I pretended to grumble. “Jeremy will have my picture plastered in the back room of every store.”
“Are you saying it wasn’t worth it?” Gage rested his head on my shoulder.
I snorted. “Fuck, no. That blowjob was some of your best work.” Just remembering the way he’d gotten to his knees on the carpet, his big brown eyes staring up at me trustingly, while the whole scene was reflected in mirrors all around us…
I squirmed on the sofa again and tried to stealth-adjust myself in my pants.
Not stealthily enough, though.
“Reeeeally?” Gage gave me a shit-eating grin. “Even the memory’s working for you, huh?”
“You inspire me,” I told him, caressing his smooth, bare shoulder. “That little flick thing you do with your tongue is fucking incredible. Truly. Award-winning.”
He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth, his eyes dancing in the low light. “I kinda wanna ask questions about this award. Like, how would it be judged? And who am I competing against? But instead, I’m just gonna take my prize.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Your prize,” I repeated, amused and delighted. “Would that be a blowjob of your very own?”
Gage froze for a second. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head, which was also amusing and delightful.
“No,” he said finally. He pulled me down on the sofa so I was lying on my side behind him with my back against the back of the sofa.
“And not because I don’t want a blowjob, clearly, because that day will never, ever come.
But I know you’ll give me one later anyway.
Whereas this is something you don’t usually volunteer.
” He snuggled against me, grabbed the remote off the coffee table, and sighed happily.
“Ahhh. The best possible television-watching position.”
“Your prize is… watching television?”
“No. Pfft. My prize is cuddling. The overt kind, not the stealthy kind.”
I had no idea what he was talking about.
And once again, I was nearly positive this move was outlawed in the Keep It Casual Handbook.
But, on the other hand, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to bury my nose in the curve of Gage’s neck and my dick in the cradle of his ass.
And I had no choice but to drape my hand over his waist and make sure he didn’t fall onto the hardwood floor because safety.
“Knox, look! Oh my God! This movie was one of my mom’s favorites. Desk Set with Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy. Have you ever seen it?”
I shook my head and Gage chuckled. “You’ll love this one. It’s about an efficiency expert—”
I groaned, and he laughed harder.
“—an efficiency expert who learns that some things are more important than being efficient.” He looked up at me and grinned, gorgeous and uninhibited. “Hard to believe, I know, but give it a chance.”
I was pretty sure I wasn’t as hard to sell on the concept as he thought I was.
At that moment, there were a million things I should have been doing.
Texting friends to catch up while I was in town so they wouldn’t forget my existence before I moved back.
Shooting off an email to Rick at Bormon Klein Jacovic for approximately the same reason.
Calling my family to check in. Giving Gage more interview questions.
Having sex as often as possible while the sexiest man in the universe was inches away from me.
But instead, I pulled the blanket higher around us, buried my face in Gage’s neck, and thought that being with him was every bit as exciting as anything the city had to offer. And I smiled against his skin, confident I was acing my remedial happiness lessons…
Never dreaming how badly I’d already fucked things up.