Page 38 of Game Changer
“I’m pretty sure you were doing most of the work that time.”
“It’s not work,” Scott said, kissing Kip on the nose, and the cheek, and the corner of his mouth. “Not work at all.”
Kip shoved him onto his back and climbed on top of him, kissing him with all the tenderness he felt at that moment.
They broke apart, and Scott looked up at him. He ran his fingers through Kip’s hair and studied his face, clearly wanting to say something.
“What?” Kip asked.
“Can I buy you a tux?”
“Can you—”
“You don’t have one already, right? Were you going to rent one? For the Equinox Gala?”
“Yeah. I mean, no, I don’t own one. But you don’t—”
“I’m going to call the Hugo Boss store tomorrow,” Scott said. “I do ads for them.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I’ll call them. Tell them to expect you. Tell them you’re a friend. They’ll charge my account.” Scott said the words like he was telling himself more than Kip.
“Seems a bit...generous. Isn’t it?”
Scott stroked the backs of his fingers over Kip’s face. “It’s completely selfish, actually. I want to see you in a tux that was tailored to your gorgeous body. I might not be able to dance with you that night, but you’ll know I’ll be wishing I was.”
Kip felt winded. Scott kissed him again and murmured, “I want you wearing the suit I bought you. And later, when we’re alone, I want to take it off you.”
Kip sucked in a breath.
“No,” he said, with a tremendous amount of effort.
Scott pulled back. “No?”
“It’s too much. And besides...won’t it look weird? If you ask the store to charge your account or whatever for some random guy’s tuxedo?”
“I—”
“I mean, it’s not very discreet, right?”
Scott seemed to consider this. “They’d know, you think?”
Kip stretched luxuriously and grinned. “Oh yes. I’m much too pretty.”
Scott snorted. “You are.” He kissed him again. “What if you wore one of mine?”
“Why? How many do you have?”
“More than enough. You could take one and get it tailored.”
Kip frowned. “But then you couldn’t wear it again.”
“I don’t need it. I have too many.”
Too many tuxedos was not a problem Kip had ever known someone to have. Not in his social circle, anyway.
“Fine,” he said, with exaggerated exhaustion. “I will relieve you of one of your tuxedos. But only because I like to be helpful.”
