Page 17 of Beau Pair
Beau
“Umm… come… huh?” Gordon asks in confusion.
I’m not entirely sure what tripped him up with my question, but I don’t hesitate to enlighten him.
“Do you want me to come with you to Scholar Sprogs in your car? I’m not sure how you feel about people at the university seeing us sharing a ride.”
Great job, Beau. Make it sound like we’re doing something far worse than just going to campus together.
“Umm, yeah, of course you can come with me. Why would I let you take a bus when we’re going the same way?” He chuckles, and the sound seems filled with relief.
Gordon gets up from the table and climbs the stairs to get dressed, and I’m left alone with Elsie in my arms.
“Do you wanna take any toys with you, honeybun?” I ask her. “Show me your favorite one.”
I put her down, and she runs to the corner next to the couch and opens her toy box. Instead of picking up a toy, she does the toddler thing and starts unpacking it. I should have seen this coming, really. I should know better. Idoknow better.
Before she has a chance to make a mess in the otherwise pristine living room, I approach her and look at the toys.
“I’m afraid that’s too many to carry to daycare. How about we pick one, and then we can play with the rest of the toys when we’re back,” I say, and start putting everything back into the box.
Elsie might not understand what I tell her, but she helps me pack up, nonetheless. When her dad rejoins us on the first floor, he’s wearing a tweed checkered suit that should age him up, but instead, makes him look like a very sexy and very hot—quite literally hot—time traveler.
“Isn’t it… warm in that?” I ask him, and he looks down at himself with a little sulk.
I regret saying anything already. I don’t want him to think I don’t like him or his clothes. In fact, I like him a little more than I should. Just a little. Just a touch.
“Umm… no. No, it’s not,” he says.
“I really like it,” I rush to add. “It’s just tweed gets really hot, doesn’t it? I’ve worked with it a little, but I’ve never actually worn it, so I could be wrong.”
Gordon lifts both hands and turns his wrists, looking at them before he answers.
“I guess I do sweat more than usual in it,” he admits, and I can’t help the grin on my face.
“You know, I can make you a suit if you like. Heck, I can make you a lot of them. And the best part? You can pick the fabric and pattern. That is, if I can get my mojo back,” I tell him and carry Elsie over to her dad, then I put her down. “Do you know what her favorite toy is to take with her? I asked her to pick, but she went a bit overboard.” I laugh.
He reaches closer to me, and for a second, I think he’s going to kiss me. Is he going to kiss me? Why? What did I say? What made him think “this is the moment?”
But he doesn’t. He’s just reaching for Elsie’s stuffed dalmatian on a shelf behind me.
Duh!
Why would he kiss me?
He’s not a weirdo like me.
“Thanks,” I say, and I give it to Elsie who’s holding my hand, ready to go.
“Don’t mention it. You don’t have to do that, you know. Make me a suit,” he says.
I give him my most genuine smile, so he knows I’m not just saying it and tell him, “But I’d love to. Design is my passion, remember? It’s what I’m studying. It would be a pleasure.”
And the minute I say the word pleasure, I can see me on my knees measuring his inside seam and, oops! I accidentally touch his balls. And then his cock. And then he whips it out of his pants and gives me a taste.
I wanna cry.
Why has my mind gone right in the gutter from the moment I met him? What the hell am I gonna do with myself?
