Page 16 of Sin Deep
And he’d had no interest in celebrating forty years until just this very second.
Instead of ruining a perfect moment with all of that weight, he touched Harley’s face, fingers gliding along a stubborn chin, and looked into the boy’s lovely, deep, dark eyes. “You’re too good to be true. Thank you. I would like that.”
“Me too.” Harley leaned into the touch, just the slightest bit. “You have my word.”
He didn’t pull his gaze or his hand away, instead he encouraged Harley and flattened his palm to cup the boy’s cheek. “What do you suppose is happening here, Harley?”
“I think we’re figuring each other out just a little.” Harley sighed softly. “I swear, you got the warmest hands.”
Figuring each other out. Maybe a little, but Harley was such a mystery to himself that he was still a mystery to Winter too.
He led Harley back to the couch. “Can you tell me more about that fancier Matrix guy you talked about? The fancier you.”
Harley tilted his head. “I can try… I hadn’t thought about it much until last night. I—You want to see something?”
Harley grabbed his phone and showed him a picture from last night. The makeup was smudged, there were hints of glitter from the party, and the look would have been perfect if Harley’s lips had been swollen from kisses or Winter’s cock.
“You’re beautiful in that picture.” Winter sighed. “It looks like you enjoyed the rest of the party.”
“I was going home, but Ollie asked me to stay and dance. I came home and crashed hard, but it was fun. It wasn’t what you and I were doing, though.”
He nodded. The energy that he and Harley shared was extraordinary, the connection undeniable. He’d felt like he’d been watching Harley bloom. “You enjoyed what you and I were doing. Do you want to…try again?”
“I do. I want to… I felt… I don’t know, special is a good word, but it’s not it, exactly.” Harley huffed out a breath. “I want to try with you.”
His pulse sped up, heart beating hard like it had last night. He wanted to help Harley understand, find the real boy inside that strong body. “I want that too. I have everything we need in my bedroom, if that’s not too forward.” He felt his chest heat and tried not to blush, but an invitation into his boudoir was forward, even if his intentions were more innocent than they sounded.
Harley caught his gaze. “I promise not to do anything you don’t want. I’m a good guy.”
Be still his beating heart. Here he was worried this young man would think he was an old lecher and instead Harley was promising to protect his virtue. If only the boy knew there was little he didn’t want. “I am also a…good guy. I never want you to feel uncomfortable, and I hope you can be honest with me about that.”
“I will. Uncomfortable isn’t always bad, but I’m smart enough to know the difference.” Harley winked at him. “In fact, I can think of a lot of really good things that aren’t exactly comfortable.”
He raised an eyebrow and let himself smile. “You’ll have to tell me all about them at some point,” he teased. “Come on then, bring your drink.”
“Yessir.” Harley snatched the glass up and followed him. “Your home is like a treasure trove.”
“It’s hopelessly cluttered, you can say so. I’m not a packrat, but there are some things I don’t care to part with.” Objectively, he simply hadn’t had any reason to part with most things. He lived alone, ao he didn’t need room for anyone else.
Winter led Harley across the hall and around a corner to his bedroom. This room was far less cluttered, his bed was neatly made, but the heavy furniture was a bit too imposing for the room’s size. He’d moved here from a larger space a decade ago, and he’d just never replaced the set. His dressing table, however, was perfect for the space, full of storage, and fitted with a full-length mirror. “This is my room. Have a seat at my table there.”
“This is amazing.” Harley sat and sipped his drink. “That’s a mirror that has stories, I bet.”
“Yes, indeed. Some lovely young men have sat in that seat you’re in. They’ve all moved on now.” He pulled a makeup cape and a couple of soft cloths from his closet.
“They have? I’m not going to say I’m sorry they’re gone, ’cause I’m not.”
“You are quite the sweet talker, aren’t you? You look like you belong there. I don’t miss them anymore.” He draped the cape over Harley’s shoulders and tied it in place. “This will keep the makeup off your nice shirt.”
“Thank you. It’s my one of my best two. The other one is white and not taco-friendly.”
“Mine was in jeopardy for a while there, but I think I escaped without a spill.” He pulled his own chair up close to Harley. “So. Do you have ideas? Is there something you’d like me to try? Or should we just…see what happens?” If Harley had thoughts, or wishes, he wanted to know them.
“I don’t even know what to try. You just…do your thing. I’m here with you, and I’m not scared.”
“I’m glad. There’s nothing to be scared of. I will look after you.” Winter pulled a drawer open and lifted out a box, found what he was looking for and got to work, starting by cleansing Harley’s skin and applying a gentle moisturizer.
“Foundation evens out your skin, makes it like a blank canvas for me to work on. You can close your eyes or keep them open, it’s up to you, and I will let you look in the mirror as we go along.”
