Page 35 of Moonstruck
“She knows you wouldn’t take a day off to mourn that shrew. I’ll tell her you got food poisoning from the press dinner. How’d that go, by the way? You and Thomas Mulvaney best friends forever now?”
Zane looked back at Asa, who looked too goddamn fine pulling a black Gemini hoodie over his head. “Not exactly,” he muttered.
It really, truly shouldn’t be legal for any man to look that good on no sleep, especially not when it looked like Zane had gone ten rounds with Mohammad Ali. When he caught Zane staring, he grinned, sliding his wallet into one pocket and his phone into the other. “Breakfast?” he asked, pointing to his watch.
“Who’s that?” Blake asked.
“Nobody,” Zane said, a little too quickly to be convincing, earning a smug smile from Asa and an infuriating chuckle from Blake.
“Did you get laid last night? Are you calling in sick to work because of a hookup? Did you fuck Thomas Mulvaney? That dude’s, like…what? Twice your age?”
Zane shook his head. “No, I didn’t hook up with Thomas Mulvaney.” Though, Zane supposed it had never been truly off the table. Last night, he’d been willing to do almost anything for a story.
Almost? You’re playing chew toy to a serial killer. Where the hell is this imaginary line of yours, bro?
“No, I’m not calling out sick for a hookup.”
“But you did get laid last night,” Blake said.
“I’m hanging up now,” Zane warned.
Blake chuckled again. “Okay, man. I see you. Get som—”
Zane hung up on him before he could finish his sentence. When he looked back at Asa, he was watching him with an expression Zane couldn’t quite place. Like he was…studying him. “Don’t you have work, too?” Zane asked, trying to fill the sudden silence.
Asa waved a hand. “I’m the boss. I make my own hours. I had my secretary clear my schedule. We’re good.” Asa fished a t-shirt out of his drawer. “Arms up.”
Zane complied without thought, allowing Asa to pull the shirt over his head. “Don’t you design skyscrapers worth millions of dollars?”
Asa grabbed a pair of black sweatpants and went to his knees before Zane. “Foot.” Zane lifted his leg, sliding it through the hole, repeating the process on the other side, trying not to think about Asa’s face now at eye level with his crotch.
Asa tugged the pants upwards. “No, I designbilliondollar skyscrapers. And I do it so well, people are willing to tolerate my somewhat unprofessional behavior because I make buildings that stand out against the backdrop of our cities.” Asa slid the fabric slowly over Zane’s all too obvious erection.
Zane had thought that would be the end of it, but Asa didn’t stand; he pushed Zane’s borrowed shirt up, nosing along each inch of skin as it was revealed, making goosebumps erupt along Zane’s skin as he licked a trail from the waistband to just beneath his belly button. These pants weren’t loose enough for this.
Asa looked up at Zane from his knees. “Fuck. I wish we could just stay here all day. I like…playing with you.”
Zane had meant to push Asa away, but his hands tangled in his hair instead. “I don’t know if I can handle another session so soon.”
“Your dick says you’re more capable than you know,” Asa teased, leaning forward to bury his face against said dick. Zane squirmed at Asa’s hot breath on him through the thin material.
Asa rocketed to his feet. “Fuck. Okay. We’ve gotta get out of here. You look too good in my clothes.”
Zane looked down at himself as he allowed Asa to snag his hand and pull him towards the staircase. He looked ridiculous, like a kid playing dress up in his older brother’s closet. “Can we stop at my place so I can change into some real clothes? Please?” he tacked on at the end, almost like an afterthought.
Asa stopped at the top of the stairs, studying Zane with another enigmatic look. “Yeah, sure.”
Once they were on the road again, speeding towards Zane’s apartment, he said, “I just can’t picture you as an architect? Like, why would somebody like you want to design skyscrapers? It seems a strange career for a person whose hobby is murder.”
Zane glanced over at him. “It’s not a hobby, it’s more like a calling. As for the architecture, I was great at math and drawing. Avi was, too. He went into fashion design because he’s good at it and loves the attention and celebrity of it. I went into architecture for somewhat similar reasons.”
“Certainly not for the fame?” Were there famous architects other than Frank Lloyd Wright and I. M. Pei?
Asa gave him a look that sent a shiver down his spine. “Oh, no. I don’t care about fame. My last name gives me more than enough notoriety for that.”
“So, why do it?” Zane asked.
“There’s something about knowing that I hold thousands of lives in my hands every single day and I choose to let them live.”
