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“Us,” Robbie said. “We’re supposed to hate each other.”

Toby laughed, liking the way it felt both inside and outside. “Maybe I do still hate you,” he said, throwing one arm behind his head and rubbing his fingers through Robbie’s hair with the other as Robbie snuggled against him.

“You do not,” Robbie said, tugging his piercing a little.

Toby sucked in a breath, then let it out on a laugh. He heard far more genuine fear in Robbie’s voice than he wanted to. He was no psychological expert, but it was clear as day to him that Robbie had self-esteem issues.

Which was complete bollocks, as far as he was concerned. Robbie was passionate, kind, and gorgeous. Whoever hadknocked his self-esteem down deserved a sharp-toed boot up the backside.

“Maybe this is all a ploy,” he said, grinning as he continued his teasing. “Maybe fucking you was my way of getting the best of you.”

Robbie lifted himself up on one arm to smirk down at him. “I think you will recall that my dick was firmly and deeply up your arse at one point last night.”

Toby grinned up at him and shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe it’s all part of my master plan.”

Robbie laughed and shook his head, then rolled to the side. “Well, my master plan is to take a shower, eat some breakfast, then head down to the studio to get some work done before the family meeting.”

He climbed out of bed, giving Toby a delicious look at his entire, flushed and beautiful, naked body. After the night they’d just spent, he felt like he was getting to know every part of that body. He’d learned a thing or two about where Robbie held his tension and where he was ticklish. He adored Robbie’s taste and his musky sex scent. Basically, his feelings towards last week’s bitter enemy were as far from hatred as could be.

“I’ll get breakfast started while you shower, then we can switch,” he said, climbing out of bed himself, then turning to stare at the sheets.

“We’ll wash them,” Robbie said, coming up behind him and kissing Toby’s shoulder. “And you won’t have to do much with breakfast. I bought a thing of croissants yesterday. They’re out on the counter.”

He kissed Toby’s shoulder again, then cupped his arse, sliding his fingers between Toby’s cheeks to poke at his sore hole for a second before heading off to the bathroom.

Toby smiled as he stripped the bed, then borrowed Robbie’s robe to leave the bedroom and get tea started. He’d only everbeen in one relationship in the past where he’d had domestic sleepovers. It had been nice while it’d lasted, but it wasn’t anything compared to the feeling of rightness he had puttering around Robbie’s flat.

The morning continued to be sweet and comfortable once they’d both showered and had breakfast. Toby dressed in the suit he’d brought with him, but kept the jacket and tie off once they were done with breakfast and wandered down to the ceramics studio. He wouldn’t need to be fully dressed up until he headed into the office after his meeting with the Hawthorne family, and the family didn’t much care how he was dressed.

“Looks like the office is having computer trouble this morning,” he said as he sat against one of the tables in Robbie’s studio, watching him set up his wheel. “I’m getting an error message when I try to log in.”

“Do you need to head into London instead of attending our meeting?” Robbie asked over his shoulder as he wedged a lump of clay.

“Nah,” Toby said, setting his phone aside. “I’ll call after nine and let them know what’s going on.”

Robbie smiled and continued wedging his clay. When he had it the way he wanted it, he crossed to the wheel, gesturing for Toby to come with him.

“What?” Toby asked, following curiously.

Robbie scooted his stool farther from the wheel than he usually kept it and motioned for Toby to come sit down with him. “I’m going to teach you how to throw a pot,” he said.

Toby laughed, stopping just short of sitting with Robbie. “I’m hardly dressed for it.”

“You won’t get that dirty,” Robbie said. “I’ll keep things clean.” He wiggled his eyebrows, like he meant those words in their other definition.

Toby snorted and shook his head, pretending he thought the whole thing was silly. But that didn’t stop him from sighing and shifting to sit on the edge of the stool in front of Robbie.

“First you have to center the clay,” Robbie said.

He slammed the ball of clay down on the pottery wheel, scooped some water onto it, then turned on the wheel with his foot.

“Now, give me your hands.”

Toby couldn’t keep the grin off his face as Robbie wrapped his strong arms all the way around him, holding his hands from the back and bringing them to the wet, spinning ball of clay.

“You need to keep your hands moist so there isn’t too much drag on the clay.”

He took some of the water from the small bucket beside the wheel and wet Toby’s hands. The cool splash contrasted with the warmth of Robbie’s hands and his body all around his sent a shiver through Toby that centered in his balls.

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