Gwynning: I should go, guys. I need to send someone atext.
TeenDad2: Woo! Get ’em,Gwynn!
xVerity: Glad to hear it, Gwynn. Keep usupdated.
Gwynning: Will do. See you guyslater.
Laurence tabbed out of the conversation and opened his text message history. He scrolled to his conversation with Alex, but his thumb stopped before it could hit the text field. The picture of Alex in his now-ruined black lace panties was still visible on the screen, and the sight made Laurence’s heart skip a beat. He swallowed hard, then shook his head and tapped to make the caretappear.
Hey, it’s Laurence. I wasthinki—
The door leading to the private offices opened. Matthew stepped out, a few pamphlets tucked against his chest, and hurried over toLaurence.
“Hey, Dad.” Matthew scratched at his calf with the heel of his shoe. “Um… do you think we could go talk in the car? I wanna… I wanna talk to you about stuff, orwhatever.”
“Of course.” Laurence turned off the screen of his phone and tucked it back in his pocket. “Let’sgo.”
Alex had already been waiting this long. What difference would a few more hoursmake?
14
Alex
Three days.A measly seventy-two hours in heat. And he’d barely wanted to touchhimself.
Something waswrong.Alex wasn’t dumb, and he knew exactly what that something was, but he didn’t want to face it. Not now, and maybe notever.
His heat had been cut in half, his drive to get laid just wasn’t there, and there was only one explanation as towhy.
LaurenceGwynn.
Alex’s gaze shifted from his painting to the photograph he’d clipped to the side of his easel. The last time Gage had been in, Alex had broken down and taken a picture of him in the required pose. Most of the time, Alex preferred working with Gage live in the studio, both because a photograph never truly captured the nuance of the pose he was going for, and because he liked to find ways to throw money at Gage without making him feel like he was a charity case. But with Bo on-and-off sick as he had been for the past week, Alex hadn’t been given much of a choice. He needed to get the paintingdone.
If he could bring himself to paintit.
It was hard to find the motivation when all he could think of was Laurence, what they’d done together, and the fucking purple haze that still wouldn’t leave himalone.
Hyperrealistic painting took focus. Color matching was crucial, and each stroke mattered. Attention to detail could make or break a piece, and Alex knew that unless he could pull himself together, he was never going to get itright.
Why was it so different thistime?
Alex set his palette aside. He took a few steps back from his partially painted canvas, then let his gaze wander across the room to the table on the right. The purple painting sat there, its nebulous swirls and intricate colors evocative of the way Laurence made him feel. It had come on so quickly and so suddenly that he hadn’t been able to stop himself from giving intoit.
Intoaffection.
Intoadoration.
Into something Alex might one day hazard to calllove.
Alex was attracted to older men for utilitarian reasons. Love didn’t factor into it. The power older men held was irresistible, and the way Alex had learned to wrest that power from them over the course of a single night left him hungry for more. Taking the upper hand gave him the validation he required to feel whole—it stitched his injured heart back into onepiece.
But Laurence, who’d been so kind to him, and who’d given of himselffreely…
Alex’s synesthesia forbade him from overlooking what he felt about that, but his mind refused to acknowledgeit.
He’d tried to take power from Laurence, and he’d only ended up hurtinghimself.
“Fucking bullshit,” Alex mumbled. He lifted his canvas from the easel and laid it aside. The harder he tried to fight against what he was feeling, the more it would rebel, and the more useless he’d become. Honesty was his last option—and it was the one he looked forward to theleast.
