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the lady of shalott
Blair glanced in the mirror one last time, checking the fall of his hair. Not too much eyeliner or gel, not like in his headshots, thank god. He winced a little as he remembered those hideous photos. Well, if he got lucky here, he'd have enough money to pay for new ones. And if not... well, headshots would be the least of his concern. Blair shook his head at his own pessimism and shrugged it off. Something would turn up.
One of the assistants popped in. "Blair? You're up!"
"Thanks, Marcy," he said, giving her a cheery smile. "Positive vibes," he muttered to himself as he headed out towards the platform.
Bored, James Ellison watched from behind the photographer as yet another candidate for the 'face' of his company posed and strutted in front of the camera. Glossy blond hair, tall, slim, and no different from any of the two dozen other men that had paraded in front of him over the last few weeks. He glanced down at the gold watch on his wrist and wondered yet again why he'd wanted to have a say in this decision. As the latest Ken doll headed off to the dressing room, he rubbed his forehead in irritation and stared at the velvet-swathed platform for a moment before picking up his briefcase and pulling out some contracts he needed to review.
He didn't bother glancing up from his paperwork when the new model came out. The crisp snapping of the camera went on for several long minutes before he looked up... and stared. Slowly, an appreciative smirk curved his lips as he observed the young man currently sprawled over the midnight blue velvet. Leaning back in his seat, he tapped his pen against his lips as his eyes roved over the lithe body.
The model was a little short, but his face made up for that. The eyes, wide and bright, focused intently on the photographer, lush lips parted just a little. The strong, square jaw made the face beautiful rather than pretty, despite the silky shoulder-length curls framing the ivory skin. At a word from the photographer, he propped a leg up on one of the fabric-covered boxes and looked directly at the camera. The tight jeans the model wore clearly outlined generous attributes, displayed to advantage by the pose.
James licked his lips, feeling his cock stir at the sensual picture. It had been a long time since he'd indulged his taste for men, but this hot item was far too good to pass up. He pulled out his cell phone and called his secretary.
"Ann, clear my schedule for tonight."
"Yes, sir. Do you need me to make dinner reservations?"
"For two, at La Marmite, at 7:30. And make it a private room."
James tucked the phone away, smiling in satisfaction at his secretary's efficiency, then rested his eyes on his newest acquisition and leaned back to enjoy himself.
When the photo shoot ended and the young man had disappeared back into the dressing room, the art director came over. "Any of them?" he asked dispiritedly, obviously expecting yet another negative.
"The last one," James said. "What's his name?"
Gawking in surprise, the director didn't answer for a moment, then hurriedly said, "Sandburg. Blair Sandburg."
"Good. Tell him he's got the contract," James ordered. "Oh, and tell him I'm taking him out to dinner."
Not even caring that he'd been turned into a messenger, the director fled in haste, afraid that James would change his mind and condemn him to another few weeks of photo shoots.
Blair had just pulled on his well-worn jeans and flannel shirt, leaving the outfit for the shoot tossed haphazardly over a chair, when the knock came on his door. "I'm decent!" he yelled back, brightening hopefully when he saw the art director. "You guys want me to come back for another test shoot?"
"No, you've got the job," the man said with evident glee. "Just come by my office tomorrow with your agent, and I'll have the contracts all ready for you to sign."
"Really? Oh man, that is so cool!" Blair bounced a little in excitement. "Thanks!"
"Oh yes, and Mr. Ellison is going to take you out to dinner," the director added.
"Who?" Blair asked blankly.
"The CEO," the director explained with a faint air of incredulity at Blair's ignorance.
Blair looked down at his comfortable but decidedly not-dressy clothes. "Um, maybe I should go home and change..."
"Mr. Ellison doesn't like to be kept waiting," the director said nervously. "Why don't you just take something from the wardrobe? You can bring it back tomorrow."
"No problem." He turned to rummage in the closet, pulling out a silk shirt in dark blue and a pair of black slacks, changing hastily. Checking himself out in the mirror as he tugged his hair back and wrapped a leather band around it, he shrugged at his image with a grin. "Hope I don't need a jacket and tie," he said aloud before picking up his canvas backpack.
Going back out into the main room, he looked around uncertainly, trying to pick out the mysterious 'Mr. Ellison'. No one in the room really looked old enough.
He turned at his name and only barely restrained himself from gaping. With a babe like this on staff, they were looking for a model?
he boggled, eyeing the broad shoulders and chiseled features. It took him a moment to realize that he still hadn't answered. "Uh, yeah, that's me," he replied, wincing at the dazed sound of his own voice. "I'm looking for Mr. Ellison?"
"You can call me James," the god informed him. "The car's waiting."
Blair mentally slapped himself down. No lusting after the boss
, he lectured himself regretfully as he followed James outside, trying to keep his eyes from resting on the trim body displayed to perfection by a crisp-tailored suit. "So you're the CEO?" he said tentatively. "It's really cool of you to take me to dinner."
James nodded to his driver and easily stepped into the limousine, waiting for Blair to join him before he answered. "Not at all. I believe in mixing business with pleasure," he said blandly, reaching over to pour himself a drink. And you are definitely going to be pleasure
, he thought, letting his eyes roam over the young man's body.
Even as he accepted a drink from James, warning bells went off in Blair's head at the possessive gleam in the other man's eyes. I don't believe this
, Blair mentally groaned. My first break, and I'm getting the casting couch treatment. Man, is my karma lousy.
"Right," he said lamely, trying to decide what to do.
James was suffering from no such confusion. "You're new to the modeling business, I understand," he said, leaning back against the rich leather of the seats, crossing one leg over his knee.
"Man, is it tattooed on my forehead?" Blair asked a little morbidly, before realizing that a reply quite that frank probably wasn't what James was looking for. "Um, I mean, yeah, pretty new."
"Is this your first job?"
What, trying to figure out just how desperate I am?
Blair asked the man silently. "Well, I've done some work for the art classes down at the University," he offered.
"For live drawing, you mean—nude?"
Blair only barely avoided a visible wince. "Right."
James smiled, slow and pleased, as he considered the implications of that. "I'm sure they'll be sorry to lose you."
Blair wondered plaintively, eyeing the cat-in-the-cream smile. Come on, Sandburg, better think fast or you're going to end up either more broke than you are now or the blue plate special on this shark's dinner menu.
"So... you're pretty young for a CEO, right? Do you like it?" Oh yeah, that's a great plan
—I'll just bore him to death with small talk.
"It pays the bills," James said with a tolerant smile, stretching his arms across the back of the seat. The tips of his fingers could just barely touch a few errant strands of silky dark hair, and he licked his lips.
Blair tensed slightly and leaned forward to set his glass on the wet bar, making sure not to sit back all the way. "I guess it does," he said weakly.
The car pulled up at the restaurant then, and James regretfully lifted his arm away as he got out. They were at the back entrance, the one which led directly to the private rooms, and he didn't linger outside. It was long past the times when he had needed to answer to anyone for his tastes, but he practiced discretion as a matter of habit.
Blair trailed after James slowly, looking around the opulent interior uneasily. When he came into the private room, seeing the large couch along the back wall and the table already set for two, he paused just inside the door. Well, at least my casting couch is upholstered with red velvet,
he thought a little wildly, wondering what to do. "Uh, I, uh... have to go to the men's room," he improvised hastily, trying to ignore the amused expression on Ellison's handsome face. He caught the arm of the maitre d' before the man could depart. "Can you point me at it?"
The tuxedoed man pointed across the hall, and Blair ducked into the private bathroom as fast as he could, locking the door behind him. He leaned back against the door and let his head hit the wood a couple of times. "Oh yeah, barricading myself in the bathroom is really going to work well," he said aloud. He took a few deep breaths. "I am... relaxed," he chanted softly, until it was almost true.
"Okay, Blair, come on," he told his reflection. "The guy's hot, he's probably a great lay, and he can have you fired before you get your first paycheck. What's not to like?"
The reflection didn't seem to be persuaded.
"Look at it this way," he continued. "If you walk out on him, you're going to be hitting the soup kitchens for dinner for the next month."
The reflection was weakening, but made some valiant retorts about self-respect and personal dignity.
"Self-respect is for people who haven't screwed up so badly they don't have enough money to eat," Blair muttered. "Besides, if I do
keep this job, I can pay off the University right away and my life can get back to normal." He squared his shoulders, determined, and unlocked the door of the bathroom.
Blair paused just outside the door of the private room. James was sprawled out over half the couch, a portfolio spread open over his lap, the blue eyes intent and focused. One dark wave of hair dipped down in the middle of his forehead, the chiseled jaw without a hint of shadow. His jacket had been tossed over one arm of the couch, the white shirt below snug enough to reveal that the CEO was no stranger to a gym.
"Think lust," Blair muttered under his breath. "You can do lust." He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "Sorry I took so long," he apologized.
Setting aside the paperwork, James got up and sat down at the table, neatly flipping the napkin from the plate to his lap. "If you weren't worth the wait, I'd have left," he said silkily.
Blair nearly fell into his chair. "Oh," he said feebly, looking around vainly for a menu to hide behind.
A waiter silently sleeked out of nowhere and poured glasses of rich red wine, while a second arranged several large platters laden with a combination of appetizers and entrees on the table. Blair observed wide-eyed as they completed their tasks and left the room without a word, closing the door behind them.
"I ordered for us," James said, taking a drink of the wine and spearing a stuffed mushroom with his fork. "Try the proscuitto."
Blair managed not to roll his eyes. Give it a rest, man, I've already gotten the message about the power dynamics here,
he thought rebelliously. He quickly forked a healthy portion of proscuitto wrapped around cool green melon into his mouth to keep from blurting out the words. And promptly forgot to be annoyed as the flavor hit his tongue, smoky and sweet all at once, the taste of rich, good food, not of dry pasta and artificial cheese and MSG-laden soup. He sighed in real pleasure and promptly dived into the rest of the plates. Being seduced was looking better all the time.
James ate more slowly, pausing often to enjoy the half-lidden expression of satisfaction on the young man's face, the graceful, coltish way Blair licked juices from his fingers and the corners of his mouth. Increasingly hot images played in his mind—that slim body stretched out over the couch, the full lips wrapped around his cock, those dancing fingers stroking his nipples. He savored the anticipation more than the food. "Whenever you're finished, we can move on to dessert," he growled softly, voice a little husky with desire.
"Sure, whenever you're ready," Blair said happily, well-fed and muzzy with the better part of a bottle of wine. Food, glorious food,
he mentally hummed, and found himself grinning involuntarily as he wondered what James would say if he suddenly burst into song. "It's really amazing how much more you appreciate food when you're really hungry," he said, waving a fork enthusiastically.
James sipped from his glass of wine—still only his first—and eyed the remains of their feast. "Skipped lunch?"
Blair snorted. "And breakfast, and dinner last night," he admitted freely, tongue loosened by the alcohol. "I'm kind of broke, so I've just been eating big lunches at this great little Thai place down by the waterfront district. I was doing the mac-and-cheese routine for a little while, but all those artificial flavors and preservatives are so nasty I just couldn't down the stuff anymore."
James frowned. "If the only work you've been doing is modeling for art classes, I'm not surprised you're broke. You couldn't find anything else?"
"It's hard to find work that fits into my classes at Rainier," Blair said, leaning back in the plush softness of the chair, his eyes drifting half-closed.
"So you're a college student. Ever considered taking time off from school?" James smiled a little, predatorily, as he considered the alternative occupations he could offer the young man.
"Nah, I'm so close to done..." Blair mumbled, then sat straight up, shaking his head vigorously. "Oh, man, this chair's too soft," he complained. "I always get sleepy after I eat. Or I get silly."
"Well, let's get dessert out here before you doze off on me," James said, reaching out to the buzzer.
The staff efficiently cleared the plates and leftovers from beneath Blair's slightly wistful glance, then whisked in an assortment of desserts and cups of coffee before vanishing as quickly as they had appeared.
Blair surveyed the table with near awe. "Wow. Do you eat this way all the time?"
Sipping his espresso black, James shrugged. "I don't always eat at this restaurant."
"Do you have any idea how much fat and cholesterol there is in all the stuff we've eaten?" Despite his words, Blair reached out for a ripe strawberry, dunking it into the rich, fluffy mound of chocolate mousse. "I mean, this is totally an invitation to a heart attack..." His voice trailed off as James caught his wrist before it could deliver the berry to his mouth.
Rubbing his thumb lightly over the pulse in Blair's wrist, James guided Blair's hand towards his mouth and bit into the strawberry, sweet juice mingling with the bittersweet taste of the chocolate in his mouth. Wide indigo eyes locked onto his lips as he swallowed the bite and licked away the traces of chocolate from the corners of his mouth. James reached out and picked up another berry, duplicating Blair's gesture and carrying the chocolate-covered fruit to Blair's lips. "An invitation, hmm?" he asked softly.
The thumb on his wrist kept circling in a mesmerizing pattern; the gleaming, ice-blue eyes never left his. A little lightheaded, Blair parted his lips and accepted the offering, barely tasting the intense flavors as he chewed and swallowed. Then James was leaning forward, one hand sliding deep into his hair, and James' lips were hot on his, tongue plundering deeply into his mouth.
Blair groaned softly, wordlessly, and reached up to cup James' head in his hands, responding eagerly to the kiss. Why had he ever thought this would be a bad idea? He couldn't remember now, his whole body on fire with the need to taste, to touch, to wrap himself around this man. His hands tugged at the collar of James' shirt, yanking the tie loose and sending buttons flying every which way. Dimly, he felt strong hands undoing his own shirt with more care. Impatiently, he pushed the white linen off James' shoulders, almost growling with annoyance as he discovered an undershirt beneath. "Off," he muttered fiercely, pulling it out of the trousers and trying to tug it off.
Breathing hard, James reluctantly let go of Blair for a moment to pull the undershirt off over his head. His blood was singing in his veins, alive with more passion than he'd felt in ages. He'd never expected the obviously hesitant young man to turn into such a demon, but now Blair was practically ripping his clothes off. Even as he got the shirt halfway off his arms, Blair was pouncing on him again, lips latching onto one nipple, fingers hooking into his belt and practically pulling him off the chair.
They somehow managed to topple onto the couch, although James' arms were still trapped inside the shirtsleeves, and Blair attacked the businessman's pants, managing to unfasten the belt and get the trousers halfway off without ever taking his mouth away from the sensitive, reddened peak. His hands now stroking over James' thighs, Blair lapped at the other man's navel, driving his tongue into the little hollow repeatedly, his hands squeezing and stroking, working their way up to the inner thighs.
James arched up with a gasp as one hand closed over his cock, stroking it through his briefs, cupping the heavy sac of his balls. And then Blair's mouth was covering him through the cotton, hot breath steaming around him like a promise, and he strained free of the shirt, leaving it in two tattered pieces on the floor. "God!" he swore, reaching down, trying to get hold of Blair somehow. The silky hair teased his fingers as Blair mouthed his cock softly, and he shuddered, struggling to work his briefs off without dislodging the tender mouth from his body.
Suddenly, Blair was looking up at him with smoky, seductive eyes, a knowing little smile, and running a couple of fingers around the inside seams of his briefs, between his legs. The other hand slid under the top elastic, stroking into the nest of curls at the base of his cock, fingers just barely brushing the rigid shaft. James nearly snarled at him, twisting and thrusting shallowly, trying to get those fingers wrapped around his cock.
With a soft laugh, Blair nuzzled the firm belly and tugged the briefs down at last, letting the cock spring free. He pushed the pants and briefs the rest of the way off James' legs, leaving them crumpled on the floor in an untidy pile, and squirmed between the other man's thighs, lifting one of them up to the couch. It had been so long since the last time he'd had sex, his time poured into the search for money and his energy sapped by lack of rest and food. This whole day had been one long journey from famine to feast, and all he wanted right now was to glut himself, satisfy every craving, every urge, on the gorgeously sculpted body in front of him.
Eagerly, he lowered his head to the straining cock, licking up along the pulsing vein in broad, flat strokes, his hands keeping the hips from bucking upwards as they tried to do. The soft velvet of the head yielded pearly drops to the caresses of his tongue as James struggled and panted above him. He laid down kisses all around the cock, on the flat abdomen beneath, then finally gripped the hard shaft and tilted it slightly upwards.
James groaned and strained to lift as Blair dropped a butterfly kiss on the top of the head, then let his body sink back against the cushions as the full lips slid down around him. Hot, tight, Blair's mouth sealed around his cock, easing downwards oh-so-slowly, sucking in a gentle rhythm. "That's it," he gasped. "Oh yeah. Oh...!" He let his head drop back against the pillows, his hips twitching as Blair eased his cock all the way in, the head snug against the tight muscles of the young man's throat. He closed his eyes and gave himself up to the pleasure as Blair worked his cock, careful swallowing motions massaging his entire shaft.
Blair hummed softly in pleasure at the responses he could feel trembling through James' body, the musky-bitter droplets oozing onto his tongue from the hardening cock. The other man had been reduced to wordless gasps coming roughly through a pleasure-tightened throat. Blair slowly withdrew, keeping his lips tight around the shaft as he slid back until the head popped free. James gave an audible groan of disappointment. "Shh," Blair murmured, nuzzling the slick shaft, one hand closing over it and squeezing gently. He reached over to the table, caught the bowl of chocolate mousse and slathered a healthy dollop over James' cock and balls.
James yelped a protest that slid into a moan as Blair dived back down onto him, licking and sucking the chocolate from his body with greedy abandon. First the skillful tongue cleaned off his shaft, then moved down around his balls, sucking in one of the firm orbs completely. His whole body seemed to tighten as Blair suckled firmly, lips working over the sac, then shifted to the other orb. He clenched his fists into the throw pillows, gasping for air, then suddenly tensed and nearly sat up as he felt Blair's tongue slide lower, pushing at his perineum. Hot flashes of pleasure spiked through him with every little jolt of the tongue-tip, until it was a struggle not to cry out.
And then Blair was pushing one of his legs up a little further, and that maddening tongue was sliding lower still, feathering little strokes over his anus, and he shouted with shocked pleasure, shoving his fist in his mouth to muffle the sound. He had to grab a pillow to scream into as the torture continued, the tip probing at him teasingly, poking just barely into him and slipping out just as he began to hope that this time it would go further. Squeezing his eyes shut, he raised his leg up further, propping himself against the cushions, and tilted his hips forward encouragingly.
Sparing a hand to get his own pants unbuttoned and off his legs, Blair nudged the balls with his nose a little as he kept licking and teasing the little hole, loving the abandoned way James was yielding himself to the rimming. His own cock was throbbing in sympathy with the flushed red shaft lying against James' abdomen, yearning towards the soft pucker beneath his tongue. Blair groped over to the small table beside the couch and fumbled blindly in the drawer, finding a promising little tube of lubricant. He pushed his tongue deeper into the hole as he squirted lube over his fingers, shivering in sympathetic pleasure as he heard James moan into the pillows again.
By then, James was too far gone to even try to be silent, his whole body focused on the small area between his legs, his ass clenching and unclenching as the tongue kept darting into him. Blair's mouth suddenly pressed close, covering his anus, and the wet, hot tongue slowly began to push in deeper, undulating inside him. A slick hand suddenly closed around his cock, and his whole body seemed to vibrate for a moment as the tip of Blair's tongue hit some soft, responsive part inside him. He felt incredibly sensitized, every touch of Blair's hands and tongue magnified.
Igniting pleasure as it touched him, a cool-slick finger stroked around the flaring pucker of his anus, then replaced the tongue inside him, pushing in firmly. He groaned again and pushed his hips forward, pressing down to help the second finger enter him. The slow stretching was matched by the gentle pumping of his cock, Blair's hands working on him in unison, as the tongue kept wandering between them, pushing at his balls, lapping at the tender inner thighs. James just concentrated on breathing, gulping huge draughts of air as he was slowly and carefully opened, a third finger now pressing inside, stretching and twisting. "M'ready," he managed to gasp out when he couldn't stand it any longer, needing more.
Blair kept his hand going a little longer, his mouth sliding back onto James' cock and suckling firmly, bringing the other man to the edge. Then he pulled himself up, carefully sliding his fingers out, keeping only one inside, then positioned his well-slicked cock at the loosened entrance.
His eyes closed, James lay back against the pillows, lips parted and dry as he felt the velvety steel of the shaft pushing into him, slow and careful. Blair's fingers kept applying the lube to his entrance as the cock slid inside, keeping him slick and wet, until finally the shaft was seated completely within. He felt his breath coming faster as Blair shifted a little from side to side, settling into his body. He opened his eyes and watched the beautiful young man, the rich blue eyes half-lidded with concentration, full lower lip held lightly between white teeth. He looked down, seeing where his thighs lay over Blair's hips, and twitched himself forward to feel the union between their bodies flash through him again.
Blair moaned appreciatively as James pushed down against him, and pressed his cock in even deeper in response, trying to find the other man's prostate. When James suddenly jerked and gasped, he grinned triumphantly and pressed forward with a slightly harder thrust to the same point.
"Christ!" James felt one of the cushions give way under his fist as he shook with pleasure. "Again," he demanded breathlessly, and quivered violently as another stroke pounded into him. Before he could call for more, Blair picked up the pace and began driving forward hard and fast, each thrust rubbing against the incredibly sensitive point with incendiary results. He felt his whole body building to a peak, and when Blair's hand closed around his cock again he toppled over the edge, pulsing white heat spilling over his belly.
Panting, gasping, Blair grabbed onto the back of the couch and held on for dear life as James' orgasm clenched and flared around him. Biting his lip, he slowly thrust in again, keeping the rhythm going even as the tight ass spasmed around his cock. Shuddering beneath him, James gave a short, sharp cry of pleasure with every thrust, until Blair plunged in deeply one last time before letting go. He closed his eyes and keened softly in the back of his throat as he felt his cock pulse inside the hot channel, felt the hot cream of his release pumping into James until there was nothing left and all he could do was collapse limply onto the sweaty, hard body beneath his.
Still trying to catch his breath, James automatically reached up to hold Blair close as the younger man slid down onto him. He could feel the pounding of Blair's heart against his own chest as the deceptively slender body relaxed. A faintly regretful sigh escaped him as the softening cock slipped from his body. "God, that was incredible," he mumbled.
"Mrmphdl," came the reply.
James lifted his head a little, although it felt heavy as lead, and managed to flop it over to look at his new lover. Blair was nuzzling into his neck, already more than half-asleep. And sleep did seem a very inviting idea at the moment, his whole body satiated and spent. He let his head fall back and groaned faintly as he remembered where they were. "Come on, beautiful," he said, nudging Blair. "I give this place plenty of business, but the waiter's still going to come knocking on the door eventually."
With another groan, James shook Blair a little, lifting the sleepily limp body as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. He half-dragged the model upright before Blair came awake enough to stand on his own, gripping the back of a chair and blinking at him owlishly. James stretched a little and looked around the room. And winced. One cushion torn open with stuffing spilling onto the floor, semen and sweat and chocolate all over the rest of the upholstery, more chocolate on the floor, on the chairs... the entire room was a disaster. He looked at Blair and ruefully noted that the two of them didn't look any better, their bodies both still slick and gleaming with the evidence of sex.
"Wow, my head is kind of spinning," Blair said, in interested tones.
"Just don't get sick," James warned. "That's the last thing this room needs added." He pulled on his crumpled and stained clothes with some distaste, glad he'd taken his suit jacket off earlier—it was the only thing keeping him halfway to decent.
Blair slowly collected his own clothes and put them on with exaggerated caution, then went over to the table and poured himself a glass of ice water. "I should *not* have drunk that much wine. Oh man, I'm going to have to drink until I float to keep from getting a hangover."
"Come on, Chief, let's get out of here. You can drink water at home." James pulled out his wallet and left four crisp hundreds on the table, along with his business card, then towed the young man out into the hall.
He caught the arm of the waiter heading for the now-vacated room. "Tell the maitre-d to send me a bill for the damage," he said, keeping his voice firm and cool.
Ruining the aloof image, Blair chimed in, "Yeah, we really trashed it. Sorry about the extra work for you, man."
The waiter actually blushed and stammered, "That's no problem at all. Have... have a good evening."
His own cheeks flushed, James hurriedly dragged Blair towards the exit and bundled him into the limo. "You didn't have to advertise it," he muttered as the door closed on them.
Blair laughed at him. "Come on, man, you're not serious, are you? Like he wasn't going to know exactly what we did the second he walked in there." Blair scooted over to the wet bar and got himself another glass of water, drinking deeply.
Settling back against the seat, James eyed the disheveled young man and felt lust stirring yet again. "What time are you coming to the office tomorrow?"
"Same time as today, around 4," Blair said drowsily, his eyes drifting closed.
"I'll pick you up after you finish signing the contracts."
"Mmhm." Suddenly, Blair sat up, jerking his eyes open with an effort. "Can't, man. I've got an evening class tomorrow, 5 to 8." He yawned widely.
"Then I'll pick you up after that," James stated in some annoyance, wondering why he bothered. He wasn't used to working around anyone else's schedule. He's way too good a fuck to pass up,
he excused himself.
"Oh," Blair said a little uncertainly. I really shouldn't be doing this,
he thought guiltily. This guy is just using me.
His eyes strayed over to James, lingering on the muscled thighs that had been wrapped around him not so long ago, and found his breath quickening. But man, is he hot.
He licked his lips. A little sex never hurt anyone,
he excused himself. "Where should I meet you?" he heard himself ask.
Fifteen minutes later, standing at the gates of Rainier University, Blair watched the taillights of the limousine fade off into the distance and wondered what he was getting himself into.