Page 37 of Fixate
I hadn't realized how vast his empire was. We would get into that later, I'm sure.
The tailor's shop was full of men's suits. I took them in noting that not a single price tag or sign was hanging anywhere. These clothes were surely going to cost a pretty penny, especially if they were Pharrell's personal favorites.
An older gentleman with salt and pepper hair and a short, well-trimmed beard walked out of the back and spread his arms wide.
"Boss," he said, "To what do I owe the pleasure? Do you need a new suit? I can whip one right up for you."
Pharrell smiled and hugged the man. A bubble of irritation wove through me at the sight of them embracing. It couldn't have lasted more than two seconds, yet I had an irrational urge to claw out the other man's eyes.
When they pulled apart, Pharrell glanced at me and grinned. He could tell I wasn't too happy with the move. While I should have freaked out about that, I ignored it in favor of seeing what he would say.
How will he introduce me? Was I a friend, an associate, a partner? And why did I care so much about which title he gave me?
I was here for business. I had to repeat it to myself more times than I should have.
“Lennox, this is Ricardo. He is staying with me and needs some suits. One can be off the rack today and adjusted. The others, I would prefer custom. Can you handle that?”
The man scoffed. “Can I handle it? Of course I can. This is my calling.”
He said it so dramatically, even I was smiling. His demeanor reminded me a lot of Dante.
Except Dante's calling was to murder people.
Different, but same, right?
I was instructed to get up on a stand and spread my arms. Lennox went about measuring me everywhere with his tape. He took notes, conversing with Pharrell casually, like old friends, as we went.
They didn't speak about anything really in particular. It was about the hotel and how they needed to prepare for next season's fashion. I honestly thought it all strange until he was finished and moving away from me.
Only then did I notice Pharrell's heated gaze and the white knuckled grip he had on the chair he chose to sit in.
Was he jealous? Did he not like the sight of the other man touching me? Had Lennox been talking to prove that he wasn't attracted to me in any way? Was it all just to calm Pharrell down?
I should not have been excited at the idea.
This man was already causing me more trouble than I needed. He had broken down the walls I had put up around my life, all within minutes of me being here.
With Lennox gone, it was just me and Pharrell in the shop. We stared at each other quietly for a moment. Then I stepped off the platform and walked forward to stand in front of him.
I positioned myself between his spread legs close enough that he had to feel the heat radiating off me, but not so close as I was touching him. I lifted my head to the side as I examined him.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
The grip on his chair loosened. His hands moved to my hips. His touch was gentle, and to anyone else, it might have been interpreted as friendly.
Okay, who was I kidding? There was no universe where this type of move was friendly.
For some reason, I also did not push him away.
I liked his hands on me. His touch was warm and welcome.
"Better now," he murmured as he eyed me from head to toe.
When his gaze stopped on my cock, I felt myself hardening before him. There was no need for me to be aroused simply because he ran his hungry eyes over me.
I found that all the things I should be doing were not holding to be true anymore. I was about to say something to him to the effect of "Let's go back upstairs and fuck this day away," when Lennox came barreling out of the back room with clothes in hand.
"Here, try these on," he demanded while ushering me into a changing room.
