Page 53 of Strut

I pouted. “Isn’t this how it’s done? Greeting my boyfriend with a beer and the promise of a fuck?”

“Mmm.” Alec threw his model bag on the chair and pulled me close, nuzzling into my neck. “I like the way you think. And you smell so good. So, where’s the beer?”

I whacked him on the arm. “That’swhat you choose first?” I pulled my lower lip between my teeth, dropped my towel, and wiggled my hips so my thickening cock slapped from side to side. “Better?”

Alec laughed and made a grab for me, pulling me close. “No, I choose you.” He ran his hands over the swell of my arse and squeezed. “But I thought we had plans tonight? You asked me to swap shifts, remember?”

“We do have plans. So, no sex. But I thought we could shower together if we hurry.” I stripped him out of his jacket and black T-shirt, letting them drop to the floor.

He barked out a laugh. “You really think we can shower together and not have sex? Have you lost your mind?” He groaned as I cupped his semi through his trousers and squeezed gently before running down his zip and adding his slacks to the growing pile of clothes at his feet. Seconds later, his briefs joined the rest, which freed that delectable cock to bounce against his belly.

Fucking magic. I licked my lips, then remembered what we’d been talking about and cleared my throat. “I’m sure we can prioritise. We don’t have to have sex every time we get naked. We can just talk like normal people, right?”

Alec stepped into me and cupped my face, pressing a line of kisses across my cheeks. “Right. So, how was your day, baby?”

“Good.” I kissed him back, running my hands up the sleek skin of his back. “I’ve got some images to show you.” More kisses, my fingers in his crease, his groans in my mouth.

“Mmmm. Sounds interesting.” He nibbled and sucked on my earlobe. “You know, I think I like this small talk thing. Where are we going tonight? Cos I really think you should fuck me. That’s small talk, right? I mean, they’re small words.” Hot breath fanning my skin, the hum of his voice in my ear, my cock raging against his thigh.

“Huh?” I blinked.

His big grin right in my face. His nose against mine. “Isaid,I think you should fuck me.” His lips on mine, the sweep of his tongue addling my brain, his hand around my cock.

“No.” I shoved him back. “No. No. No. We are going on this fucking date if I have to drag you there. And if you side-track me into a fuck, that’s an hour right there and my plans will be in ruins. We’re on a schedule.” I pushed him through the bedroom doorway toward the bathroom.

“Oh, come on,” Alec grumbled. “Just a little blow job. That won’t take long. A teensy weensy one?” He held up his hand with his finger and thumb barely parted.

I sat him on the toilet while I got the water running. “Alittleblow job? Really?” I raised a brow at him. “What, like only lips, no tongue, or maybe I just take in the first two inches of your cock. Or, I know, maybe a two-minute timer, then I stop, regardless?”

“Exactly.” Alec leaned forward to test the water, then pushed me into the shower and crowded me against the cold tiles. “I can get you there in two minutes, baby.” He ran his nose up the side of my face. “Of course, I can’t speak toyourskills.” He shot me a cheeky look.

I narrowed my gaze and instantly dropped to my knees. “We’ll see about that.”

* * *

Alec won, at least according to Alec, but that was based solely on the fact that he couldn’t keep count once I got his cock in my mouth. He just ballparked an entirely fictional number whose only criteria was that it had to be longer than his. I didn’t argue too hard once I realised the prize was to rim the loser until they lost their freaking mind.

When he was done muddling my brain, he told me about his Men-tion go-see, which seemed to have gone well. They didn’t have a campaign coming up until the following year, but they’d wanted to meet Alec so they could add him to their callback if they liked what they saw. They did, apparently, and he had an appointment for a test shoot in a few weeks. He was chuffed as hell.

I left him under the water while I cleaned my teeth, trimmed my scruff, and dressed. Then while he was doing the same, I dressed and brought up the images on my laptop that I wanted to show him.

As I was scrolling, a video call from Rhys popped up and my best friend’s face appeared on the screen. A few days earlier, I’d caved and told him Alec and I were giving things a go. He’d been thrilled.

“Wow, you look hot.” Rhys squinted at the screen. “That’s one of mine, right?”

I glanced down at the chocolate-brown merino-mix jacket with its silver collar tips and leather shoulders. For wool it was feather-light to wear. “For your information, I always look hot. It’s the man, not the clothes.”

He laughed. “So, itismine.”

“Yes, it’s yours. Do you approve?”

“Let me see.”

I stood and Rhys watched me turn with a critical eye. “Looks great. But bring it in next time you come to Flare. Those shoulder seams need lifting. It’ll only take me a minute.”

“Stop.” I put a hand up. “Clock out. It’s fine.”

He pulled a face but didn’t argue and we changed subjects, chatting about Flare and the photos I’d sent him of the men wearing his label at the fundraiser. He’d been over the moon. Every bit helped. Then we talked about my work—theHarper’sshoot and the one I was doing withJojo.

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