Chapter Nineteen #4
He glanced down at his lap. “I’m used to my agent telling me that I might need to start thinking about my next career move because there isn’t a huge demand for men my age. It threw me to have a younger man—an incredibly handsome one—tell me that I look fantastic.”
“Hmm. And here I just told Clara that you carry yourself with confidence,” I teased.
Brighton chuckled. “It’s all an act. Is there really anyone who doesn’t have doubts and insecurities about themselves? If you find me that person, I’ll bet you a thousand pounds that they’re a narcissistic sociopath.”
“Perhaps that’s true.”
He shrugged. “I’m not wallowing in a non-sensical self-loathing or feigning modesty.
I know I’m attractive, Cliff. I’ve made millions off my appearance.
And I’m grateful because, other than the effort I put into a fitness and skincare routine, I’m just damned lucky to have inherited these genes.
But looks diminish, and mine aren’t what they used to be.
When your appearance is what pays the bills, the fading is a little more troubling than it might be for others. ”
“If you’ve made millions, then you don’t need to worry about paying the bills,” I pointed out. “I know good investment planners if you need one. And if you used to be even better looking, then you must have been a god when you were younger.”
“You mean like you are now?” He grinned. “I should hook you up with my agent.”
“No, thank you,” I replied. “I have enough on my plate without trying to model now, too. But thank you for the compliment.”
Brighton leaned back in the chair. “It’s my honest assessment. And I’d be very jealous of the photographer who’d get to snap similar photos of you—in a pair of briefs, that is.”
I flushed at that. “You have that male model body. Agencies don’t hire guys built like me. I’m too muscular. I’ve thought about ratcheting it back at the gym.”
Brighton seemed surprised by that. “Oh, please don’t. The only thing more gorgeous than your physique is your face.”
I grinned before staring down at one of his photos. “I’m pretty sure I’m looking at something more stunning right now.”
Brighton leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Agree to disagree. So, tell me about your conversation with Clara.”
“She’s wonderful,” I said. “It was very easy to talk to her. She loves her daddy.”
Brighton beamed. “I love her more, and I couldn’t be prouder of her. I’m delighted the two of you hit it off.”
“I believe we did. I’d enjoy hanging out with her…with both of you.”
He stood and rounded the desk, then knelt by my chair. “I would like that. And I’d love to hear more about the conversation…later.”
“Later?” I gulped.
“You’re cute when you’re shy,” he commented. “A big, strong, handsome Cliff, blushing and uncertain, is quite adorable.”
The mention of someone being adorable because of their bashfulness made me think of Mikey, and my temptation to sleep with Brighton despite having feelings for Mikey, as well, made me feel like a dog.
Even though the producers would encourage it for the drama, I was still grounded in the real world’s moral expectations.
“I like you, Brighton. If circumstances were different, I’d invite you to my room. It’s just, I haven’t shut down the others,” I explained. “Well, Mikey, in particular. I’m still getting to know both of you and…”
My confession was met with a disappointed nod.
“You don’t need to explain. I respect your scruples.
Mikey seems like a nice kid…man. Besides our wide gap in age, he and I are quite dissimilar in many ways, and what we have to offer is different as well.
You should take the remaining time we have on the show to decide who’s best for you.
For what it’s worth, despite the short amount of time we’ve spent together, I have a good feeling about us, Cliff.
I’m not a fool who has a habit of giving my heart to everyone who strikes my fancy.
But I already see you’re a man with principles who is beloved by your community.
Every interaction we’ve had has validated their opinions, and being with someone good is the most important thing to me.
Besides, my daughter’s intuition about people is never wrong. ” He winked.
“Oh,” I whispered.
Brighton chuckled. “And I pray the time comes when you will invite me to your room. But for now, might I be granted a kiss?”
I nodded. He leaned up and kissed me softly. I held him by the back of his neck, and we continued more passionately.
“We might need to stop,” I suggested, my chest heaving.
He backed away onto his haunches, then stood. “Yes. That had me envisioning things we just agreed we’d refrain from.”
Brighton triggered every nerve in my body, especially those responsible for sending messages from my brain to my dick. “Me too.”
He glanced at my crotch. I was well-endowed, and I was reminded of Keller’s observation that it was apparent without me needing to remove clothing. Arousal was even harder to conceal.
“And seeing that won’t make it easier to suppress the images in my head,” Brighton said with a smile. He sighed. “Goodnight, Cliff.”