“You’re on my side,” he says.
“I want to cuddle.”
Another long-suffering sigh and then Cassius rolls over so that he’s the bigger spoon. I’m shirtless already and his arms feel so good wrapped around me. I scootch back to make it easier for him to hold me.
“This is much better, don’t you think?” I ask as I tug at his forearm so that it’s cinched tighter around me.
“You’re talking again.”
We lapse into silence, but with his half-hard cock pressed up against me and the smell of him in my nostrils, I’m too horny to sleep.
“Do you like having me here?” I ask as he cups my pec and fiddles with my nipple.
“In my home or in my bed?”
“Both?”
“I invited you to live with me, didn’t I? Practically begged you if I recall. And as for our present situation, you’ve snuck under my covers like a troublesome bed bug, and we both know how impossible those are to get rid of.”
I smile at his teasing. He hates admitting any sort of attachment. That’s why I have to drag it out of him, like pulling teeth. “Do I make a good cock attendant?”
“A little chatty, but yes.”
“Do I smell good?”
He takes a good long whiff of my neck and practically purrs. “Divine.”
“Do you think I’m sexy?” I ask while his fingers drift over my mouth. I catch the tips of them with my tongue.
“Too sexy for your own good.”
“Do you want to date me?”
He’s silent for a moment and then, “What do you think we’ve been doing when I take you out to eat and shopping and all our other various excursions?”
“So, we’re dating?”
Cassius groans. “Dating, fucking, co-habitating, and now, apparently, cuddling. Gah. Go to sleep, Adam, or I will shove my dick down your throat if only to keep you quiet.”
I wouldn’t mind.
* * *
I’ve been invitedto brunch with Lucia, which is a first, since they usually do their Sunday morning thing while I work out. Cassius says I’m ready to be acclimated to fame and fortune, and that Lucia will be a good test run for me to practice the fine manners he’s been teaching me, but I suspect he just likes having me around.
Besides, Lucia’s cool as shit. She’s so beautiful and elegant and smart, like Cassius in a way, but where Cassius is a man of leisure, she works for a living, and from what I hear, she works hard. At an upscale café on Sunset Avenue, I order an egg white omelet with veggies and dry toast, having already done the caloric calculus in my head. After the server leaves, Cassius asks me if I know who Lucia’s father is.
“Is he famous? Hold on…” I try to recall Lucia’s last name. “Is it Dustin Hoffman?”
They laugh at that, at me too, I guess, but it’s cool. I just like being included.
“No, dove, it’sHarryHoffman,” Cassius says. “The movie producer?”
“I don’t know him,” I admit. “I know actors’ names and some directors, but producers are like…” I shrug. “Is your mother famous too?”
“Infamous,” Lucia says with a smile. “Would you like to tell the story of how my parents met, Cassius?”
“Shouldn’t you?”
