Page 101 of Chase
Then he moves in front of the fireplace, facing me, with a hard look on his face. “You gave me money for paints?”
“Yes,” I tell him. “You brought up the food and desserts as a gift. I wanted to give you a gift too.”
“The food is from thehotel, Logan. Jesus Christ. I can’t accept that much money.”
I scrub my palms over my face. “I don’t care. I want you to have it.”
He eyes me warily, like he’s watching a rattlesnake and wondering if it’s going to strike. “Taking money from people always feels weird. Like they have some small form of say over my actions because of it.”
I step over to the coffee table and grab a glass of water, taking a sip before I speak. “I think we both know you’re the one who holds the control between us. How would a gift of paint make me have control over you?”
“Because I’ll get used to it,” he says. “I’ll love it. Then when you disappear, I’ll be left feeling sorry for myself, because the man who magically came into my life and rained cum and money on me is suddenly gone.”
“Leave the money if you don’t want it, Chase. I really just thought you’d like the idea of getting the paints.”
He’s silent for a moment.
Pissed off at me, it seems like.
But he finally nods, accepting it.
“Okay,” he says.
Immediately, he starts reaching into his pockets. He empties them, taking out his wallet, his phone, a few pieces of crumpled paper, a marker, a small folded knife, and a wrapped pink Starburst. He drops them on my coffee table, and instantly I’m itching to go gather them up and corral them into a bowl.
And then, in typical Chase fashion, he makes himself at home.
He starts unzipping his fly. He turns, walking away as he pulls down his pants, then steps out of them. He leaves them in a rumpled pile on the floor as he walks down the hallway.
“I swear I’m not being a tease,” he says. “I just can’t stand it when I don’t get to shower after a long work day. If I’m sleeping here, I’m going to have to be clean.”
“Sure. Be my guest.”
He proceeds to take off every other piece of his hotel uniform, leaving each piece behind him in his wake, littering the length of the hallway with clothes.
I follow behind, and suddenly my eyes are focusing on his curved, muscled ass as he glances from room to room. My cock is like a magnet directed toward him. He charges forward into the bedroom and I follow like a puppy.
“I forgot how neat you keep this place,” he says when I reach the bedroom. He’s glancing around at everything, andhis eyes scan the top of the dresser drawers. “You still lay out your clothes each night for the next day?”
“Yes.”
He shakes his head. He picks up my shirt, and it comes unfolded before he drops it down again. He grabs my socks next, grinning as he inspects them.
“Quit unfolding everything,” I tell him, reaching for the shirt to tidy it up.
“What the fuck are these?” he asks, holding up my socks. “Were they a gift or something?”
The socks are plain black, but there are embroidered little monkeys in a dotted pattern all over them.
“No. I bought them.”
He laughs, and it’s this deep, raspy sound that fills the room. “God.”
“My niece does enjoy these socks in particular, though,” I tell him. “She calls monkeys ‘muckies,’ so these are my mucky socks.”
“Wow. Somebody gets to be your niece? Talk about a cool uncle.”
“Five people have me as an uncle, actually.”
