Page 70 of King of Hollywood

Just him bringing in his delivery and blocking the contents of the box with the fridge.

I was starting to seriously wonder whether he needed to eat or not because the most I ever saw him do when he went into the kitchen was fill a mug with some sort of juice from the fridge. At least, I assumed it was juice. Because the liquid looked dark when he walked close enough for the camera to pick up the contents of the cup.

It never even occurred to me that Felix’s appetite was a little more complicated than mine.

Maybe it should have.

Chapter fourteen

The next time we went out, I took Felix to a vintage car show. It took pulling some strings—through my boss Harold, damn him and his toupee—but I managed to get the venue to give me access the night before a big show opened. Which meant…we had the entire place to ourselves.

Felix had been nervous to go out—but it seemed after the fair, the dam had broken and though he was nervous, he was incredibly excited too. After I’d told him we’d be the only ones there, all his nerves had melted away. Like an excitable puppy, he bounced around the room, hopping between vehicles and exclaiming every time he saw one he’d seen before.

“God, I used to have a car just like this,” Felix said dreamily when we’d reached the end of one of the rows. He leaned lovingly along the hood of a Studebaker Champion, fanning his fingers along the paint with a sigh. The vehicle had a distinctive bullet-shaped nose and rounded fenders. The large windows on the car gave it a spacious feel, despite being smaller than my own SUV. I loved it, honestly, and the fact that he did too made him even more perfect in my eyes.

“What happened to it?” I asked, curious.

I expected him to clam up, but instead he sighed.

“Gone. I couldn’t keep all of my old stuff, though I obviously tried.” His voice was wistful, a sad little twist to his lips. I cocked an eyebrow.

His words were unusual. Just another item to add to the long list I was compiling of things that made no sense about Felix. Once again, I was forced to be content that I’d get my answers some day.

Maybe not today.

Because my main goal today was to steal more kisses.

And I accomplished it.

Because by the end of the date I’d stolen forty-six kisses. Felix’s lips were swollen pink. They tasted like cherry chapstick—as did mine. I was sure I looked a mess too—as he’d taken to running his fingers through my hair. He’d been both ravenous and shy—wary, like he didn’t know it was okay to want me as badly as I wanted him. By the end of the night, I’d remedied that.

It was hard not to feel confident after I’d spent all night kissing him against whatever vehicle was closest…and the walls…and the doors…and also the passenger seat in my car.

The evidence of our greedy touches was obvious. Both our shirts were untucked, our hair rumpled, and a boyish, giddy smirk was mirrored on our faces as we finally said goodnight.

Felix stood on his porch steps bathed in the golden light from the open door behind him. He was nearly as tall as I was when standing two steps above me. His eyes were as warm as they’d been when we’d danced—and as a cool breeze ruffled his hair, I ached to kiss him again.

Forty-six kisses, and it was still not enough.

His mouth looked so soft.

I wanted to kiss him so badly.

So I did.

Thoroughly.

Out in the open—where anyone could see, neighbors be damned.

When I retired home for the night, the front door shut behind me, I groaned and slid my hand down my pants to fist my hard cock. Felix drove me insane. With greedy flicks of my wrist, and my precum slicking the way, I jerked myself off, remembering the way he tasted and felt in my arms.

So small, so solid, so perfect.

Twisting, I stared through the peephole on the door, my hand still working, my cock dripping onto the floor as I watched the house across the street for any sign of the tiny, wonderful man inside. When I saw his shadow in the upstairs window, I came with a needy, desperate growl.

Harold gave me shit the next morning at work, but I found that asking him for help had been worth it. It seemed half the office—who am I kidding, all of it—knew about me and my new romantic adventures. Normally, I’d mind. Normally it would piss me off. Normally I’d guard my privacy like a rabid wolf guards his steak.

But…I was too busy to be annoyed.