Page 69 of French Martini

TWENTY

OAKLEY

We spendthe next hour sitting in the bar listening to a rundown of events for the next few days, culminating in the awards event on Friday. There are lots of eyes on us, and I don’t know if Lowen is aware, but I am. Fortunately, it’s not exactly a hardship to kiss his hand or rub his thigh or nuzzle his cheek. I love touching him and he seems to enjoy my attention.

When the meeting finally breaks up, I pull him close. “What do you want to do now? Grab some dinner?”

“You must’ve heard my stomach growling for the past twenty minutes.”

“Not over mine.”

“There’s a restaurant here, but it’s small plates. I could use something hearty.”

“Let’s go out. There’s a really good Italian place about a block from here. I used to eat there a lot before I found myself hanging out at a certain bar in Willow Bay.”

Lowen laughs softly. “Sounds good to me. I’ll have a food baby in my sheer blouse by the time we get back.”

“I’ll help you work off the calories.”

He drags his hand down my beard. “Promise?”

“You bet.”

We turn to go back to our room to grab our coats, but none other than Alain appears directly in front of us, blocking our path. The steely glare from Lowen would turn my blood cold if it was aimed at me.

“Lowen,” Alain says. The sound of his voice takes me aback for a second. It’s heavily accented and extremely high.

“Alain,” Lowen replies, his tone flat and cool.

Neither says anything for a moment, and I notice how the attention in the room slowly shifts to the standoff between the two men. I subtly tug Lowen a little closer.

Lowen, barely budging, doesn’t shift his gaze even a bit. “Do you have something to say? Otherwise, you’re delaying my dinner.”

“I have many things to say.”

“Tell them to your mirror. I’m not interested, and frankly, I find your audacity to even approach me appalling.”

“Oh now, you’re not still mad, are you, Low?”

“Lowen, and no, I’m not mad. I’m inconvenienced by a fanboy trying desperately to claim my attention.”

Damn. I knew my kitten was spicy, but holy shit.

Alain scoffs. “Please. You would be absolutely no one without me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I seem to be doing just fine.”

“It’s a pity award. Meaningless. Like our time together.”

I rear my head back, ready to get in his face, but I don’t even have time. Lowen steps extremely close to Alain.

“If it was so meaningless, why have you dated nothing but poor man’s versions of me ever since? If I mean nothing to you, why are you even speaking to me? Don’t forget, Alain, I’ve seen behind the curtain and I know what you really are. You’re lucky I took the high road, but you never know when your luck may runout.” He steps back, smoothing his blouse. “Now if you’ll excuse us.”

Lowen takes my hand, brushing past Alain as if he’s a mannequin. As we walk to the elevator, I can’t take my eyes off him. My cock reacted to every moment of that.

Once we’re alone again, I pull him close, kissing his neck. Lowen giggles, dragging his hand over my head.

“What’s this about?”

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