Joe was incredibly subdued once we stepped into my suite. I released his wrist then padded around the big, firm bed to grab my guitar case.
“This is Ramona,” I said as I laid the battered case on the bed and flipped the latches. “She’s a 1960 Gibson Hummingbird done in the heritage cherry sunburst design.” I lifted the beauty from the case. Joe’s eyes widened. “Right? She’s my baby. Aged Sitka spruce top, mahogany sides and back, rosewood fret board, and mother of pearl inlays. She was one of the first things I bought when I was signed by the Raptors. Well, her, my house, and a few cars and trucks. Oh! And a getaway camp out in the desert.”
“It’s a beautiful guitar,” Joe said. “Did you know that an acoustic guitar makes sound entirely by vibration? It’s true. A sound wave is produced by a vibrating object as we all know. When a guitar string vibrates, it sets surrounding air molecules into what is known as vibrational motion. Now, if you wish to discuss frequency—”
I laughed softly then laid the Gibson on the bed beside my old case. “Does science ever leave your brain?” I asked while reaching up to tug on my tie. I hated wearing suits and ties, they were nothing but silk suits of armor worn by the repressive governmental types, according to my grandmother, who had yet to arrive at my home. I’d need to try to track her down if I could and see what was detaining her. She’d probably stumbled into a cannabis field in Michigan and set up camp. I jerked on the small knot, eager to get the dress shirt and trousers off and slip into my jeans and the yellow tiger print kimono I’d brought along. “I think I’m garroting myself,” I wheezed.
“Let me help,” Joe offered, hurrying over then gently slapping my hands away from my throat.
This was nice. He was close, real close. I could see the new whiskers on his jaw and the flecks of darker blue in his eyes. My arms dropped to my sides.
“So do I have to pay you double the wages now that you’re also serving as my valet?”
He smiled at the comment. My dick began to plump up a bit. Then he bit down on his tongue as he worked on the knot. That peek of pink tongue made my cock rock hard in an instant. The backs of his fingers brushed my Adam’s apple.
“I have no skill as a valet, but I do have skills untying knots. My niece can knot up a shoelace faster than the speed of light.”
“So you’re saying that you’ve never helped a man take his clothes off?”
That brought his bright blue eyes from my collar. He wet his lips. “I uhm…”
“Are you into men at all?” I enquired as I raised a hand to trace the beauty of his lower lip.
“I uhm…”
“If no, speak now and I won’t proceed to the next question.”
Again his tongue darted out to dampen his lips. “I’ve not helped a member of the nobility to remove their evening clothes before.”
Such a clever mind. “Good to know. I suggest you never apply for a position to help the Earl of Grantham with his braces and spats.” I thumbed that lovely lower lip. His pupils swallowed all that pretty blue. I groaned at the sight as his body responded to what was simmering between us. “So, yeah to guys?” He nodded so subtly I would have missed it had I not been engrossed in his adorable face. “Just guys or girls too?”
“I… just guys.” His gaze dipped to my mouth then farther down to where the collar of my shirt was now open, the tie dangling freely around my neck. “The knot is free.”
“Thanks. Can I kiss you?” His sight flew back to my face. Again he dampened his lips. “Feel free to say no. I’m totally about consent. Although I will cop to sweet-talking and serenading to woo you into saying yes.”
“I’ve never been serenaded before.”
“You should be. Daily. So, that kiss?”
“I’m not… I haven’t…” He stopped and stared up at me, and all I could see was confusion, so I decided to back off.
“It’s okay—
“Yes.”
Oh man, his raspy, breathless permission lit me up in ways that rolling around with multiple partners had never done. Why that was I had no clue. Instead of worrying over the niggle of fear, I let it go and lowered my head to press my lips to his. My fingers skimmed along his jaw, tipping his head ever-so softly to the side just a bit. His breath danced over my cheek. I thought about licking at the corner of his mouth, to ask for entry, but he was so stiff, his lips so tense, that I opted out of pressing for more than he seemed to be willing to give. Instead, I pulled back a bit, just an inch, and saw his eyes were closed. So I brushed another peck over his puckered lips, then another, and then one more. When I kissed his long lashes, he sighed. I wanted so much more. Him under me on the bed or me under him, either way, I was the king of versatile. But I lifted my head instead of going in for more.
His lashes fluttered upward. I smiled at the shocked expression on his face.
“You like that?” I asked on a heated exhalation, my fingertips resting on his jaw.
“Uh huh,” he replied as a small shiver danced over him.
“Good, I liked it too. A lot.” I dropped a peck to his nose then forced myself to move back a step. “Chill out a sec. I need to get out of this stupid suit.”
“Yeah, I’ll just… I think I’ll sit.” He dropped down beside my guitar, looking as if he’d just tried to solve some
