“You don’t have to defend yourself. I like it.”
“You like… my wimpiness?”
He shook his head. “Wimpiness is not how I would describe it. You’re just a cautious guy. It’s endearing. It also makes me want to puff my chest out and fight off whatever shadows you jump at.”
“Okay, one, I donotjump at shadows, let’s not go that far. And two, you can fight off whatever you want, as long as it’s not me.”
“Oh really?”
“Mhmm.”
I was never this bold, this flirty. Not with a man like Beckham, who intimidated me on every kind of level. What was going on with me? Was this even legal? I did just hire him for a job; was it like an employee/boss kind of situation? I didn’t sign anything, so maybe not, but still… No. My mind was ping-ponging all over the place. I had to calm down and focus.
“All right, I should really be heading out now.” It was happening. The full weight of what just occurred was beginning to hit me. I needed to get some fresh air, even if that air was five hundred degrees with a humidity index of a million. “I have to study. But, uhm, we’ve got our numbers, and I’m going to grab crazy glue on my way out.” I stood, the legs of the chair sounding loud against the wood floor. My knees didn’t buckle underneath me like I’d expected they would, so that was a win. “Text me or something. You know, in case you need a break from the case or anything.”
The nerves were evolving into full-blown anxiety.
Not only was it difficult having to talk about my traumatic experience for hours, but having to do it with a man who left a serious impression on me was a special kind of torture. There was no more hiding from him. Even though Beckham had met me under the guise of Jamison and exotic-tiger medicine, there was none of that anymore. He was now familiar with the deepest and darkest part of my psyche. There was no turning back from that.
And here I am, picturing that kiss of his on my lips every damn morning since it happened.
“We’ll be in touch, Oliver.”
Whoa, okay. That was a little cold, wasn’t it?
Then again, what in the glittery heavens did I expect? This was simply a business relationship with intense physical chemistry thrown into the mix, and chances were, it wouldn’t go further than that. Sure, I’d grown enough courage to ask him on a date, but maybe he said yes to placate the broken boy who was paying him to hunt and kill the monsters under his bed? He probably wasn’t interested in dating a guy who was just getting his life started while lugging all his heavy baggage behind him.
“Got it,” I said, smiling, still holding on to my raft of positivity even though the waters were growing stormier and stormier. My hands were clammy, and I was scared my back sweat had seeped through my shirt. I briefly wondered if it would be too weird for me to walk backward out of the office. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow.” He spoke with a little more warmth. There was a smirk playing on his face, and my gut was suddenly surrounded by flames. A need to make the smile bigger filled me.
I said my goodbyes and left Stonewall Investigations, feeling like my life was on the brink of changing in more ways than one.
The fire didn’t extinguish until I got back home, where I immediately dropped my shorts and loaded up my secret Twitter account. I wentrightto town, jerking off on my couch and blowing my load after setting my phone down, nothing but the image of naked Beckham in my head.
There were no videos online that could compete with that image, even if I didn’t have it exact. I couldn’t remember every inch of skin, every piece of him that I wanted to trace with my kisses.
I’d get it exact, though. I’d commit that man’s body to memory the second I got him naked again.
That man… what a man he was.
I still wasn’t sure of Beckham’s age, but it was obvious he had at least ten years on my twenty-four. I’d never dated someone older than me by even a day, so this was pretty new territory. It wasscorchingly hotterritory. There was something about the confidence he carried himself with and the surety he had in all his actions that really set him apart from the previous guys I’d been with. Besides Derrick, who always said he felt like a thousand-year-old soul in a kid’s body, every guy I’d been with was either obsessed with school, obsessed with video games, or dealing with an addiction to both. Maybe I just hadn’t picked them right, but after four failed relationships, I was beginning to give up. At least temporarily.
Then in walked Beckham.
Well, in walked me and intercepted Beckham if you want to be exact.
And the rest was history yet to be written. Just had to cross my fingers that there was a happy ending waiting in the wings, not a tragic one.
9Beckham Noble
As Oliver walked out of my office, I couldn’t stop my gaze from dropping, admiring those long, lean legs of his, leading all the way up to that firm arse of his that looked like a full-course meal in his tiny white shorts.
The door shut behind him, and my office fell into silence.
“What in the fuckin’ world.”
I leaned back in my chair, the chair leaning with me. The popcorned ceiling filled my vision, a much less desirable sight than watching Oliver walk away.