Page 49 of Say It Again
“Done.” His stomach twisted, but he lifted his drink. This was his ordinary life. “Anything you want.”
Corey smirked as he clinked their glasses and peered down at the contract on the table. “Mr. Daniel Greene, huh?”
Hearing his name sort of felt like someone had tightened a belt around his heart.
“Someone you’re seeing, then?”
Aaron sucked his teeth hard enough to sting. “Someone I was seeing.”
“Thank God.” Corey tossed back the vodka. “I fully dread the day someone steals you away for a life of monogamy. I know it’s bound to happen, but please not yet. What will I do with myself?”
He swigged his own drink. “Spend time with your wife?”
Corey grinned, batting his lashes. “Oh, but if I start doing that, what will become of her boyfriend?”
Aaron dragged a hand down his face. His ordinary life.
“You can start right here.” Corey pointed to his shoulders as he plopped into a seat at the table. “So much tension. Must be all the extra work I’ve been doing lately.”
He exhaled as he rolled his sleeves and began kneading Corey’s shoulders.
“Christ, that is to die for,” Corey moaned, stretching his neck a little. “Don’t ever change, darling. You’ve genuinely met your calling.”
Aaron’s gaze traveled around the apartment, snagging on the paintings he’d selected and the finishes. All of the intimate touches that made the place so stunning. “You think so?”
“You’re bloody gorgeous, Aaron, and you fuck like a stud horse.” He tapped the empty vodka glass. “Go fetch me another of these—well, not so fast.” He’d snagged Aaron’s elbow. “Kiss me, love. Like only you can.”
Kiss me, mister. Like you did at the party.
It wasn’t normally so bad kissing clients, and specifically kissing Corey was somewhat pleasant. He tasted nice—a bit spicy like cardamon or clove—and for being so bossy, he was shockingly gentle. Aaron closed his eyes and got it done, struggling to feel an ounce of fondness, but it was eerily quiet inside his body. Either that or he couldn’t really hear his body anymore.
“Off you go.” Corey winked as he gave him a little shove toward the kitchen. “When you come back, it’s straight to your knees.”
THIRTY MINUTES later, with the pizza in hand and having changed into something a little hotter because Olivia had gotten into his head—except not a trench coat with nothing underneath it because people didn’t actually own those—Daniel strolled up to Aaron’s building.
Was it a teensy bit risky showing up unannounced? Always. But it was also a language Aaron spoke, as evidenced by the whole snow globe delivery. Not to mention, tonight might be the night. The night they finally made it to home base.
Because home base was the ultimate base—or was that third base? From which base did one start? Furthermore, how many bases were there? It didn’t matter. Whichever one was the most desirable—third base?—they might be sliding to that tonight. Yeah, he should probably avoid sports-ball metaphors about sex.
He was standing in the apartment building’s vestibule contemplating searching for a last-minute trench coat when a blond guy leaving the building caught eyes with him and held the door. “Pardon. Coming in?”
He bounced for a beat. Aaron found him plenty sexy without a trench coat. “Why yes. Thank you—”
“You look so familiar.”
Daniel halted on his way through the door.
“Right?” the guy asked. He did have a distinctive British accent. “Don’t I know you?”
He studied the guy. A bit older. Silvery blond hair. Uniquely dressed, fashion-forward even, with these dark, hooded eyes and this polar-white smile, just a little too perfect to put a person at ease in its presence. He was missing the gold everything, but it was definitely him.
Yellow Jacket.
“The party last month,” Yellow Jacket said, pointing as he followed him inside. “You were the bartender, no? The one that Aaron…. Are you here to see him?”
He didn’t know why he suddenly felt a bit disjointed. “Yeah.”
“Well, he’s upstairs. I’m Corey Hutton, by the way.” Yellow Jacket extended his hand. “I didn’t catch your name, love.”