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“I need to get changed…into my clothes before we go.”
“Keep my flannel shirt on. It’s warm and will protect your skin. I should have a pair of boots that fit you by the entryway; your sneakers are not good for the job site.” I don’t tell him that I bought them especially for him, since he doesn’t seem to like that.
He nods while bringing the plates to the kitchen.
I watch the man as he hums one of the songs I played for him yesterday—I think. My eyes drop down to his bare legs. They have some hair, but are mostly smooth. The red flannel shirt is covering his ass, but I can see the generous curve pushing against the fabric.Fuck, I want inside that.He looks back over his shoulder and finds my attention on his butt. He drags his bottom lip through his teeth and makes a deep, low sound in his throat that talks directly to my cock. I see goosebumps popping up on the back of his neck as he glances at the growing bulge in my jeans.
Work first. Make him milk my cock second.
I smile again when I hear him mumble, “Cute kitty, my perfect ass.”
We get inside my white work pickup with the signCarver Construction and Demolitionand the roaring bear logo on the side.
“Seatbelt,” I command, clicking mine in.
“Bossy beast,” he mutters, but does as I say. I’d like to show him how much I can be bossy shoving my cock down his throat. Instead, I shove the shifter into drive and make my way down the driveway. The sun is high and warm, it’s a beautiful winter day.
I find my favorite podcast on my phone, it’s about the random world we live in and the amazing facts that are complete nonsense. That gets me an amused glance from Ollie.
He taps gently on the button on the car door before pressing it down, allowing some of the cold air to flow in through the half-open window. Strands from his high ponytail moved gently in the breeze. He sticks his hand out, letting the air stream between his elegant fingers.
“This area is…quiet,” he says, looking at the nature surrounding us. Something flashes through his gaze too fast for me to interpret, but it looked like…longing. “Is that why you chose to live here?”
I nod. No obnoxious neighbors to deal with. “The land was cheap since the house was falling apart.”
“Wait, you renovated it, didn’t you?”
“It’s my job.”
“You’re also very good at it. Seriously, it’s annoying that you’re so skilled.”
He should see what I can do to a donor with a knife and a hammer.
“I could teach you. It’s not so hard to learn,” I offer.
His fingers toy with the hem of my bomber jacket which swallows him whole. He’s nervously biting his lower lip, looking straight ahead.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to. We can find something you like more.”
“We?” he whispers softly, turning those bright eyes on me. He goes from sassy to unguardedly insecure in the next second. It’s disconcerting and sets off my protective instincts.
Ignoring his question I ask, “What would you like to do?”
“Mmm, I took a few classes at the community college in business and management.”
I knew that already. It’s written in the file Rami gave to me. “Why did you stop?”
He purses his lips. “Life.” His hands are balled up on his lap, and I can almost feel the anger rolling out of him. I recognize that feeling very well. Today’s job will help him with it.
He doesn’t say anything else, and I try to focus on the drive but almost take the wrong turn. I can’t help but glance at him. My hand is gripping the gearshift, fingers squeezing tightly.
The minutes pass, and after driving through the last stoplights on the street, I make the final turn, coming to a stop outside of a big warehouse in the gentrified neighborhood.
I turn off the ignition, and we both climb out of the pickup.
He’s studying the big, red, three-story building while we walk toward the main entrance.
“What kind of warehouse is it?”
