Perfect. It was amazing the things people said when you were getting them off. Equally amazing was how desperate he was to believe it. He’d spent most of his life wanting to be perfect for someone. Was Heath the person he’d been waiting for?
Heath’s fingers in his hair tightened, his whispers of praise sweet and coaxing, reminding him to relax. Again, he did as he was told, proud when he managed to take most of him without choking. It was incredibly hot to have this sort of control over someone.
Heath’s hips bucked and his legs trembled, a hoarse groan tearing from his throat as he came and Evan swallowed every drop.
They curled around each other, Heath whispering words of praise and burying his fingers in Evan’s hair. Their mouths collided, tongues savoring one another’s taste until the sound ofthe other guests milling about forced them to pull themselves together.
“Think there’s any dessert left?”
“Isabella is off my Christmas list if she didn’t save any for us.”
“I didn’t realize she was on your Christmas list. Am I?”
Heath traced a finger down the center of his nose and chuckled. “You can have that copy of Proust if you’re enjoying it.”
He felt his cheeks heat. “Noticed that, huh?”
“It was on the nightstand. Hard to miss. Plus, I can smell a classic for miles.”
“That’s creepy, and yet I totally believe it.”
“Take me to a used bookstore and I’ll find you all the treasures.”
“Is that an invitation?”
Heath shrugged, his attention drifting to the distance. “If you’d like it to be.”
“Got yourself a date, Lennox.”
chapter 27
. . .
“Oh, I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow!”
Isabella’s eyes were misty as she pulled Heath into another hug and squeezed the breath out of him.
“I’m happy to stay if you want to make me a kept man.”
She laughed. “I would, but you’re spoken for, and I couldn’t possibly separate the two of you.”
“You could make us keptmen,then.” Live forever on a private island with Evan? Yes, please.
“Oh lord, I can’t afford Evan.”
“Did… did you just call me cheap?”
“I would never.”
“I think you did.”
“Oh, there’s Livie. Gotta run!”
Heath watched her hurry away with his tongue firmly in his cheek. She really was on his Christmas list, but she’d be getting coal for the foreseeable future.
“What’s got your panties in a bunch?”
He’d sensed Evan’s approach. The way he sauntered across the sand had a specific rhythm to the crunch, and the clean,citrusy scent of his skin carried on the wind. Or maybe it carried on him. He sniffed his collar and suppressed a contented sigh.
