Chapter 1
Ben
XavierWard.
The name was constantly in my head, and his perfect form often featured in my dreams.
Xavier Ward.
My new lodger, who looked and smelt like sin itself.
Wavy, auburn hair; the colour of an autumn sunset brushed back, accentuated his strong cheekbones. Grey eyes, like a stormy night, were framed by the longest eyelashes ever. He was the perfect specimen; around six feet tall, with muscled arms and legs, dark freckles, and a light dusting of ginger hair covering his body. I knew he worked out a few times a week, and seeing him come home from the gym, freshly showered and smelling divine, was the highlight of my week.
He was what you would call ruggedly handsome, and I’d imagined him on horseback, galloping across a windswept moor, an open white shirt billowing behind him, his muscled thighs encased in tight trousers straddling a wild black stallion. Damn, I needed to stop reading so many romance novels and get myself under control. I adjusted myself as discreetly as I could, finding it difficult to hide my hardening cock in my loose shorts.
Oh yes. I’d studied this man in great detail since he’d moved in exactly eleven days and fourteen hours ago. A struggling actor and friend of my sister, Xavier had needed to find somewhere else to live since his landlord had kicked him out of his other place, something about needing the extra space. Not exactly sure what my sister had been thinking, though, offering my place up. But she knew I needed the money and had a spare room.
I’d ranted and raved at her, but the moment I set eyes on the man, all was forgiven, and I’d lusted after him ever since. God, if he knew, he’d be out of here as quick as he could. I had no doubt about that. Sneaky glimpses were all I dared, but they were more than enough to fuel my regular nightly jerk-off sessions, where I’d come with a silent moan, hoping to God he didn’t hear me. And now, here he was, in my kitchen, making us both coffee, wearing nothing but his well-fitting boxer briefs, his taut pecs on display. It was our morning ritual. He made coffee and breakfast, and I cooked in the evening when he wasn’t auditioning late into the night.
At the sound of the teaspoon tapping the edge of the mug, I quickly averted my gaze from his toned back, pretending instead to sweep invisible crumbs from the table, only raising my eyes at the last moment to look into his.
Hoping to hide my embarrassment, I reached up, taking the steaming cup from his hands. A muted “thank you” was all I could manage.
“So,” I started, finally gaining my composure, “what are your plans for the day? Anything lined up?” I took a sip of the frothy coffee, feeling the warm liquid slipping down my throat, imagining all kinds of other things related to the man sitting in front of me.
Was it my imagination, or did the tips of his ears go pink a little at my question?
“Erm, yeah, I actually do. In a couple of hours.”
Not wanting to seem nosy but wondering why the bashful look, I pressed further.
“What’s this one for? Some big blockbuster movie? Is the West End finally beckoning?”
He laughed, a deep sound that went straight to my cock. Oh my God, I was in a permanent state of arousal when this man was around, and at times like this, when he was at ease, he was fucking gorgeous.
“Not West End, no, but it is a play. My agent sent me the details a few days ago and honestly? I’m not even sure if I want to go for it.” He swirled the coffee in his cup, and I watched with fascination, taken by surprise when he glanced up and caught me in mid-ogle!
A flicker of a smile graced his full lips before he continued.
“I suppose it’s a musical of sorts? It’s a play about a male strip club. Not sure if there’s even a story to it from what I’ve seen. For the audition today, I have to go prepared to strip, and frankly, Ben, I’m not sure I can do that.”
Fuck. I’d pay damn good money to see that, but I schooled my expression and nodded, showing I understood where he was coming from.
“And your issue is?” I asked, almost swallowing my tongue as his gaze yet again met mine.
“Do you think I’d make a good stripper, Ben?” Dear Lord, I was going to hell for the thoughts I had.
“I, er, well, I…” I stammered, not able to form a coherent sentence at this point.
“What’s up, Ben? Cat got your tongue?” A flirty smile this time. Or was that just wishful thinking?
I gave myself a mental shake and spoke, trying to keep the tremble from my voice.
“I think you’d make a great stripper. You have the body for it and the looks. Girls will go wild for you, I’m sure.” Men too, but I didn’t add in that little snippet.
“Do you think so? I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable with the whole situation, to be honest.” He sat back in his chair, his arms folded. “It’s not something I’ve done before, so I’m a little apprehensive. I mean, what if I have to strip off completely?”
“In the audition or the play?”