But I didn’t say the other part. I’d let Zachary assume that by “kinky” I meant whips, rope, and the kinds of sexy toys that were fitting for a high-powered young executive.
“That’s part of the reason I brought it up,” Zachary said, grimacing. “Charles was there on a date with Elliot Daley. The gossip columnist?”
I put my head in my hands, my fingers curling into my thick hair. “Are you serious? He literally lives off of spreading around other people’s business.” I groaned, thinking of how judgmental they each were. “I knew I should have kept my life compartmentalized. I knew I shouldn’t have tried to bridge my business world with my private life. Maybe I should stay away from Manhattan for two years instead of one.”
“Or maybe you should just get laid in Denver. You need to relax, man.”
I shrugged, taking another sip of my bourbon. “I’ve got a date to the gala on Friday night. I doubt it’s going to get physical, though.”
“The Colorado guys not sexy enough for you?”
I thought of the way Xavier’s puffy pink lips trembled when he looked at me and the sweet but nervous energy that made me want to unwind him. “The guy is very sexy,” I said. “And I’m very confident he’s not into the same things I’m into.”
“How are you so sure?”
Not wanting to share much more with Zachary, I waved my hand in the air. “Trust me. He’s the kind of guy who flees as soon as something kinky gets mentioned. But the company will be nice.”
The screen flickered, and Zachary leaned forward, picking up his phone and punching a couple of buttons. “Aw shit, man, I have to go.”
“No problem,” I said, downing the last of my bourbon. “I should get back to work anyway. Tell Manhattan I said hi.”
“She says come back soon and that no one cares you’re a sex freak,” he joked. “Enjoy Denver.”
I sat on the couch for a minute, still gazing out the window and marveling at the stars. I pushed aside the anxiety of having Charles dating the gossip columnist and let my mind linger on Xavier instead.
He might not have been kinky, but there was nothing to stop me from fantasizing about him. And from the way his pants clung to his bubble butt, there was plenty to fantasize about. Some guys got off on dominating powerful men or tying up muscular brutes. But I’d only ever wanted to dominate guys like Xavier.
Pretty guys. Tender guys.
A guy who would whimper and beg while my hand landed against his ass, feeling the tender curves of his cheeks and the warm blush across his skin.
I shoved my hand down my pants, feeling the stiff length of my cock. I wanted Xavier to be a guy like that. I wanted to discipline him, and control him, and to drive him wild with pleasure and desire.
I tightened my fist around my shaft and groaned as I thought of him, dropping his pants and grabbing his knees. I didn’t expect more than a little flirty conversation at the gala, but at least he was giving fuel to my fantasies.
I knew what I wanted, even if I hadn’t yet figured out how to get it.
