Page 28 of Celebrating the Season

This thing between us was evolving rapidly, outpacing my ability to process it. Part of me wanted to run, to protect myself from the inevitable pain when he left. In a matter of days, he’d be gone, back to his life in LA, leaving me with nothing but memories and an ache in my chest I wasn’t prepared for.

But a larger part—the part currently pinned under Boaz’s artist gaze—wanted to see where this could go, consequences be damned.

“You’re full of surprises,” I murmured, careful not to move too much.

Boaz’s eyes flicked up to mine, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh? How so?” he asked, his hand never ceasing its fluid movements.

I chuckled. “Never seen you this still before. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

He grinned, the pencil flying across the page. “Art’s the only thing that can shut my brain up. Well, that and really good sex. An, apparently, a spanking. Didn’t know that a little pain could steady me, but here we are.”

My cock twitched. I had to fight the urge to break my pose and pin him to the couch. Instead, I gave my cock a tug.

“Mmm, perfect.” Boaz’s eyes darkened. “Keep doing that.”

Oh, he wanted a show? That I could do.

And so I played with myself, lazily squeezing the tip of my cock, trying to only move my hand. My eyes stayed fixed on Boaz, whose cheeks flushed, but his concentration didn’t break. My cock grew harder under his scrutinizing gaze, and I had a hard time keeping it slow. But as usual, my self-control won, and I managed to keep myself in check, even as I edged myself for what had to be close to an hour.

Time ceased to exist as my body rose higher and higher, only to be yanked back from the edge when I stopped or, if needed, gave myself a sharp pinch. I wanted to come badly, but there was no way in hell I was breaking Boaz’s concentration. That would be akin to disappointing him, and no orgasm was worth that.

“Almost done,” Boaz announced, his tongue peeking out as he added some final touches. “You’re gonna love this, I swear.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. How could I tell him that what I loved wasn’t the drawing but the artist himself? That in four short days, he’d become more important to me than anyone had been in years?

Boaz set down his pencil, a mix of pride and nervousness on his face. “Okay, it’s finished,” he said, bouncing in his seat. “Wanna see?”

I sat up, fighting the urge to bend him over the couch and allow myself to come. My whole body was hurting with the need to release. Reluctantly, I pulled up my sweats—not that they were hiding my erection, but still. No need to flaunt it. “Of course. Can’t wait.”

His eyes lit up with excitement as he flipped his iPad. “Ta-da! What do you think?”

I got up and took the iPad from him, my breath catching as I took in the drawing. “Holy shit…”

I was stunned, all thoughts of my own pleasure forgotten. The man on the paper was undeniably me, but it was like looking at myself through a filter of admiration and desire. My body had been captured in bold, confident strokes—every muscle defined, every scar lovingly detailed. I looked undeniably sexy and aroused, as if I was in the throes of ecstasy.

But it was the face that captivated me. My eyes seemed to burn with an intensity I’d never seen in the mirror, a mix of strength and vulnerability that made my chest tighten. “Is that how you see me?”

Boaz nodded, words tumbling out. “Yeah, of course! I mean, you’re so…fucking amazing, you know? Like, strong and sexy as hell, but there’s this softness too, especially when you smile. And your eyes, god, they’re like the ocean or something, all deep and mysterious and?—”

I cut him off with a kiss, unable to resist any longer. When I pulled back, his cheeks were flushed. “You’ve got a real gift, Boaz. This is incredible.”

“You like it?” he asked, still sounding a bit breathless.

I nodded, studying the drawing again. It was strange, seeing myself through Boaz’s eyes. The man on the paper looked powerful, desirable—someone worthy of the adoration I saw in Boaz’s gaze. It stirred something in me, a confidence I hadn’t felt in years.

“It’s incredible,” I said softly. “You’ve made me look…”

“Like the sexiest silver fox alive?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I was gonna say ‘better than I actually do,’ but I’ll take that too.”

Boaz’s expression turned serious. “No, that’s exactly how you look. How you are. I captured what I saw.”

The sincerity in his voice hit me like a punch to the gut. I’d been so caught up in our age difference, in the temporary nature of our connection, that I’d forgotten what it felt like to be truly seen and appreciated.

“Thank you,” I said, meeting his eyes. “For seeing me like that.”

I set the iPad aside, then turned back to Boaz. Maybe I could turn my need to come into a win-win for us both. “You know, I think work this impressive deserves a reward. What do you say?”

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