lean back and shudder as he swallows greedily and then stiffens against me, digging his head into my thigh and groaning as he jets come into his cupped palm.
For a second, there’s silence apart from our hoarse panting, and then the intercom sounds. “Sir, you have stopped.”
Asa reaches out and presses the button with his come-free hand. “Yes, I’ve finished,” he says calmly, and I snort out giggles as he leans against me, hugging me tightly.
Asa
A few hours later, I stir in the wreck of our bed. Jude is fast asleep, lying on his front, his head buried under his pillow like usual. The sheet is pulled low on his back, showing the taut globes of his arse, and his long body covered in golden-brown skin seems to glow against the white sheets.
I lie on my side staring at the sliver of his face I can see, his eyes tightly closed and his mouth curved in a small smile. He’s so fucking gorgeous. I don’t mention it a lot because he hates people to say it, as if in some way his looks make him less.
I gently push away the black curls that have fallen into his face. His hair has rioted in the year away from modelling, and I love the fact that the curls are back. They’re silk-soft on my fingers, and I can smell the scent of almonds that I now know is from his shampoo after a year of sharing a bathroom with him.
So many things I know now about this fascinating man. I know that he’s chronically messy, disorganised, and dreamy. He can make me laugh harder than anyone I’ve ever met, and he’s deeply kind, and I love him more for all of that than I do his perfect body and face. I love the life I have with him, the laughter he brings to my home, and the warm sense of deep familiarity that I feel with him as if we are lovers of long-standing.
I swallow hard because I can’t believe I’d managed to hurt him inadvertently. That I’d been careless and hurt one of the two people I love most in my life. I felt sick to my stomach when I saw the look of pain on his face, along with the knowledge that I’d put it there. Even now, my stomach feels uneasy.
I sigh and shift onto my back, lying and looking at the ceiling and feeling the warmth of his body against mine. I never want him to think that he doesn’t matter, that I’m attracted to someone else. The very idea is fucking laughable, but I’d seen a trace of that in his face, and it had stunned me. I’m ashamed to admit that a tiny part of me had also liked it. My cheeks flush at the thought because that’s low. Still, I’d felt it. I’d seen the jealousy in his face when he’d said Hayden’s name, and a small piece of me had rejoiced because the simple truth is that he could do far better than me.
He’s utterly beautiful. There are many reasons why Calvin Klein employed him – the sleepy bedroom eyes, the dark curls falling around a sculpted, narrow face with high cheekbones and full, pouting lips. The long, lean body and golden skin helped too. They probably didn’t see the glint in his eyes and the piss-taking cast to those lips, but that’s what has always attracted me madly, and I know other men see it. I’m not a jealous man by nature, but my gut has tightened too many times lately when I see men cast eyes over him. I want the world to know he’s mine, but at the end of the day, I’m very aware that I fall short of what many people would see as his ideal partner.
I’m sixteen years older than him, with fifty nearing on my horizon. I can’t be footloose and free like some of the men he knows. They can hop on a plane to eat dinner in Rome on a second’s notice. I, however, would have to check Billy’s and my schedules and then make a tentative arrangement for a couple of months down the line. Even then I’d probably end up cancelling, and I’d end up treating him once again to fish and chips eaten with the massive amount of people that seem to populate my house. I can’t fuck him whenever or wherever the mood takes us. I have to make sure the