Page 53 of Lustful Nights

I glance at my watch, noting that Lennox will be back home any minute. The food is already sitting on the counter ready to go, and my gift is on the counter. There’s a jingle of the key at the door before Lennox’s shining face greets me.

“I’m done!” he squeals, rushing into the kitchen and jumping in my arms.

I squeeze him tightly, my grip on his ass to keeping him steady. “I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it.”

“Do I get a gift or something? You know, for finishing my classes.”

“Yeah, of course. I got you this.” I kiss him on the cheek, joking around with him, but Lennox smiles, his hand coming up to grip his face.

“Your kisses will always be the best gift.” I raise my eyebrow, calling him out on his bullshit. “But I also like things.”

I roll my eyes, then reach around and grab the gift bag I hid behind the pile of food. “Fine. Maybe I did get you something. But uh—it might also be a gift for me, too.”

“Ooh, a two-fer, huh? I can’t wait to see.” He takes the present from my hand and opens it, pulling the tissue paper out first. I’m not the best present wrapper, so I figured it was easier to shove it all into a bag and call it a day. I wait as his hand finds the fabric inside. He pulls out the gift that’s wrapped in a bright red bow. “What is it?”

“Open it.” His fingers undo the knot to the ribbon, as he takes his sweet time slowly opening it. After what feels like forever, he unfolds the black leather skirt I bought for him. “I uh—thought I could draw you in that. That way, you could see yourself as I do.”

When I was trying to figure out a gift for Lennox, I tried to think of any little thing he might want or like. I went to the closest mall, walking around for what seemed like hours before it finally hit me. The conversation I had weeks ago with Lennox flooded my mind about him loving skirts but not being comfortable enough to wear them on a typical day. But then he gained confidence in himself when he wore one for game night, which made me realize he needed a few more in his closet if he’s planning to wear them more often. Plus, I love seeing how beautiful he looks in his skirts.

“Oh my god, it’s perfect. This is gorgeous. Oh my god, look at the little gold stitching on it.” He turns it over, back and forth in his hands, his eyes lighting up as he places it in front of his body as though he’s trying it on.

“I know you went out of your comfort zone when you wore the other one around your friends at game night, so I figured I would add to your collection. You deserve to wear what you want when you want. Maybe if you have more in your closet, then I’ll be able to see you wear more around. If you feel like it, I mean.”

“Thank you so much. I was only joking about the gift, but now I’m so damn thankful you got me something. I’m going to put it on right away.”

I don’t know why I thought Lennox would go change in my bedroom. That’s not who he is. His eyes never leave mine as he unbuttons his jeans and shimmies them down his legs. He kicks them off to the side, then whips his shirt over his head, tossing it at me. I catch it, pulling it up to my face and inhaling. Lennox’s scent hits me full force—vanilla and lavender. I’ll never tire of smelling him. The mornings I wake up to his scent on my sheets are everything I never knew I needed. I assumed I was happy before, but I was only content. Seeing Lennox stand in front of me, a huge beaming smile on his face as he slides the skirt up his tan thighs, is true happiness.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You look absolutely breathtaking. I love seeing you in anything you wear, but the skirts always do it for me. The way it makes your legs appear long and lean. How when you bend over, it showcases your ass perfectly.”

“My assispretty perfect.”

Lennox turns around and bends over, letting me see his flawless ass cheeks surrounded by black lace under the skirt. I step closer to him, my hands coming out to play with his cheeks. He shakes his ass, making it bounce in my grasp. Lennox has the most impeccable butt. I can’t wait to get inside him again.

“Question number 18. Can I draw you? I want to sketch you.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, wearing the skirt. If that’s okay?”

“Damn, I would really love that. Where should we do it?”

I glance around the house, and my eyes land on the living room. “The couch would be good. But the lighting in here isn’t the best, so I’m going to go grab a lamp. Get yourself comfortable on the sofa and I’ll be right back.”

I hurry into my room, rummaging through the belongings in my closet until I come up with a lamp I bought a while ago. I don’t use it often, but sometimes I’ll go outside at night and draw, and it helps me to see things more clearly. And right now, I want to make sure I can view every inch of Lennox. After grabbing the lamp, I stride back into the living room, elated that Lennox did as I said. Even though he’s sassy and feisty, he still follows my directions so well. I’ve never met anyone who I connected with as much as I do with him. He keeps me on my toes, and at the same time, he surrenders to my commands.

I stop in my tracks, taking him in. He’s leaning back against the small throw pillows, his hair a wild mess from his fingers sifting through them. One of his legs is bent at the knee against the back of the couch, while the other is straight. I can’t help but stare as he drags a single finger down the middle of his chest, pausing to tweak his nipples. He’s wearing the skirt, but it’s flipped up enough that his black lace panties are peeking through, giving me the ultimate tease.

“Is this how you want me?” he rasps, twisting his nipples between his fingers again.

“That’s perfect. Just like that.”

I take hold of the chair in the corner of the room, dragging it in front of the couch. Once the lamp is set up, I mess with the pillows surrounding Lennox, making sure they’ll support him without getting in the way. With my notebook in one hand andmy pencil in the other, I start sketching Lennox. I’ve never done this before, drawing someone like this. My hands shake as I want to make sure I capture Lennox in the perfect light.

“Oh my god, it’s like I’m having my ownTitanicmoment,” he whispers. I lift my head, locking eyes with him and smiling. “Draw me like one of your French boys, Jensen.” He giggles, a slight blush appearing on his chest and neck.

“Stay still and don’t move. If you’re a good boy, I’ll fuck you over the back of the couch in your skirt.”

“Damn, you sure know how to incentivize me.” He fans himself playfully before putting on a serious face and relaxing his body.

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