“Life got busy,” she sniffed. “Anyway, Bee overheard a telephone call between everyone’s favorite hot mommy manager lady Steph D’Arezzo and the Hope Channel. To help launchDuke the Hallson Hopeflix, the Hope people want to do a series of featurettes on the making of the movie. And they want to do one about the wedding dress you made for Bee. Ten minutes of just you and your bridal fashion genius, right at the click of the button.”
A dizzy sort of shock stole over me. “Really?”
“Yes, really. So make sure you tell those people at Prada that you’re Hopeflix-famous, okay? Okay. I’m rounding up Blake, Mackenzie, and the crew to head your way. Be done fucking in my apartment before then, maybe?”
She hung up before I could answer.
“Well?” Angel asked, his eyelids half-lowered, his cock still stiff against me.
“Sunny said Hopeflix is going to do a featurette about the wedding dress I made,” I said, dazed.
Angel gave me a warm look. “Of course they are, because that dress was perfect and you’re brilliant.”
My cheeks burned. I didn’t even have a smart, self-confident remark. I was too shocked. Could this really be happening in my life all at once?
Recognition? Opportunity?
Love?
But then my eyes caught Angel’s again, and I remembered the actual most important part of the call. “Sunny said that we have until she and the performers get here to finish fucking in her apartment.”
“Well, then,” Angel said, grabbing my hand and tugging me up the fire escape steps. “I think we’d better get started. Don’t you?”
Epilogue
Five Months Later
“You’re being ridiculous,” Angel said, watching with an amused expression as I gingerly stepped to the edge of the heated pool, my teeth chattering. My balls had already retreated into my abdominal cavity by this point.
I glared at him with as much dignity as I could muster while also wearing neon yellow swim briefs. “It’s Christmas Eve in the Alps, you dick. My nipples hurt!”
“Oh, poor baby,” Angel said with an expression of immediate concern. “Come here and I’ll help you with that.”
When I stepped into the very warm water, splashing my way down the pool steps, he was there to greet me, immediately folding me into his arms with my back to his chest and his hands finding my nipples under the water.
“Oh, they are so hard,” Angel crooned. He rubbed at them with his thumbs, sending pleasure zinging through my body, which was very confused by now. It had just been freezing cold, now it was deliciously warm, and also his fingers were sending wicked thrills right down to my briefs.
“Is that any better?” he murmured into my neck.
“No,” I said with a mournful sigh. “You might have to keep doing it.”
The huff of his laugh tickled the damp skin of my throat. “I’ll have to think of something more comforting then.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me so that my feet were on top of his, and then he walked us through the water to the edge of the infinity pool.
The hot water lapped just below our shoulders, and steam drifted around us as we looked out onto the wind-roughed surface of Lake Como. Green and white mountains cradled the lake, and all the ochre and terra-cotta houses perched around it. The forecast had promised a light dusting of snow later, but for now, the sky was a high, pale blue.
Behind us was a three story confection of a villa—bright pink, with balconies and shutters galore, and the tackiest possible decorations inside. I was in love with it, and had been since the moment Angel’s new boss had asked if we wanted to house sit over Christmas so he could go to the Seychelles for the holidays with his new wife.
“We’re basically the Clooneys now,” I told Angel, leaning back against him.
“Mm,” he agreed, but his interest was still obviously elsewhere, as one hand continued to caress a nipple and his other hand slipped down my stomach to my briefs.
“Do you think your boss knows Amal—oh.”
Angel had slipped his fingers into the waistband of my briefs, grazing my swelling penis and stroking the sensitive tip until I shuddered against him.
“Feeling warmer now?” he asked softly as he worked my briefs down over my hips to my ankles and then off my legs altogether.
“A little,” I mumbled as he wrapped his long fingers around my erection. “Still a little cold.”
