“Okay, I will. I better go. Just wanted to say hi. This househusband has to go see his man in action on set.”
“Oooh, fancy. Enjoy.”
Then I got up, took a shower, and had five whole luxurious minutes in the robe before getting dressed. Rutledge had left me a bagel and cream cheese on the counter, which I devoured. Godsend, indeed.
The valet ordered me a cab, which I thought was better than trying to navigate these streets, having no idea where I was going. I paid the driver and got out. It was indeed a large warehouse like Rutledge had said, maybe for cars or something. I knocked on the small door at the right side. A man with a clipboard opened it. “Yes, are you here to model? What’s your name so I can show you to the backstage area.”
I was taken aback but smiled. “Grateful? Yes, I am … but no, my boyfriend, Rutledge, is modelling. He said I could come and watch.”
“Oh, Rutledge. He scrolled through the names on the clipboard and added, “He is one fineeee man if you get what I mean.”
I side-eyed this man accordingly.
“Oh no! No, he’s yours. I just mean I can appreciate a hot man. You’re hot too, a-ah”—he stuttered and looked down at the list—“Oliver, Ollie. Yes, come in, come in.”
We walked down some maze of corridors and eventually arrived at a large open area. There was a white backdrop where Rutledge stood wearing low slung pyjama pants. His ab muscles were accentuated and they must have added some sort of body make up. I licked my lips.
“Leighton.” The man held his hand out.
I took it and smiled politely. He obviously meant no harm. Who knew I was so possessive, I thought.
“Sit, sit down.” He pointed to a purple sofa with gold trim that looked very luxurious. “Can I get you anything. Champagne perhaps?”
“Really? Okay, don’t mind if I do.”
“Watch your man and I’ll be right back.” He swanned away.
As I watched Rutledge, posing, moving, and being manhandled sometimes, I couldn’t keep my eyes off his beautiful bone structure and amazing body. My mind wandered to when I got to touch every inch of it. At that exact moment, Rutledge caught my eye, and though he continued working, I saw a smile he’d saved just for me. Swoon. I might actually swoon.
Cameras and lighting boxes were in front of him, and people walked around behind the scenes. The photographer would call out directions and then took lots of photos: full length shots and then close ups.
Then Leighton was back and cozied up a bit too close to me. “Here you go.” He handed me a flute glass of champagne.
“Thank you.” I crossed my legs and took a sip. “This, I could get used to.” From somewhere to his side, little appetizers appeared. “I’m really getting the royal treatment. Thank you.” I took one, not really knowing what it was, but wanting to be polite and also making sure I ate something with the drink. Day drinking and I didn’t get along too well, speaking from experience.
I continued watching my man and could see how talented he was. Enjoying myself so much, I wasn’t even sure how much time had passed when Rutledge came over and slid down on the seat beside me. He kissed my ear, wrapping his arm behind me. “Enjoying yourself? Not bored?”
I raised my glass. “There’s champagne.”
He elbowed me. “Cheeky.”
Turning to him, I kissed him sweetly. “Truly, I am loving it. You are easy on the eyes.” I winked at him.
“Oh, you don’t say. Quick, come with me.” He pulled me towards the white back drop. Then he pulled on one of his trademark black tank tops again. He introduced me to the photographer, Holden. “He’ll take a few photos of us together. What do you think?” He turned to me looking happy, but also a bit anxious for my reply.
“Fabulous! I’m no model like you, but I can work it.” I picked him up and spun him round. Then we had such a blast as we posed together while hugging and smiling. Holden was an expert at making us feel great. He got some awesome candid shots and came over to let us look through the camera. “These are great, guys. Ollie, you’re a natural in front of the camera.”
Rutledge hugged him. “Thanks.” Then he walked back with me to the seating area. “I still have to model the other outfits. Do you want to stay or meet me at the hotel? I don’t mind.”
“Okay. I’ll go back, I think.” It took all my willpower not to lean into him and stroke his cock. “That bed is to die for.” I laughed to myself. Then hugging him, I exited the warehouse. A poster on a street lamp caught my eye. A record fair! I checked the date. Maybe we could go when Rutledge got finished. I sent him a quick text letting him know.
It was weird because this was probably the first few days in a very long time, if ever, that I hadn’t been dancing at least half the day, if not all. And because I was with Rutledge, I wasn’t missing it in the least.
Then I stopped by a small shop and picked up a pack of Jaffa cakes, a celebrity gossip magazine, and some fancy nail polish. I’d have myself a few hours of self-care before Rutledge came back. On impulse, I scooped up a Dib Dab for Rutledge. Back when I’d first met him, I did, of course, what every normal person would do, and googled him. At that time, I’d come across a Q&A he’d done when he first joined Mayfair Models and how he’d recently tried them and loved it for a treat.
Back at the hotel room, I couldn’t resist, jumping and falling back onto the bed with the fluffy bedding. I turned on the television and found some trashy show to watch. Wanting to poke jokes at it and laugh wasn’t the same as when Rutledge and I watched stuff together.
I got up and pulled my makeup bag out along with my iPad. Turning on a makeup tutorial in the background, I started to paint my nails with the teal glitter polish.
I held my hand out every so often to make sure it looked okay. A while later, when I heard the beep of the door, I jumped up like a little kid who waited for his dad to come home after being away at work.
Running up to Rutledge, I took his bag from him and gave him a kiss. “My, aren’t we domesticated?” I laughed. It had only been a few hours, but it sucked.
“I love it. Thank you.” He kissed me thoroughly. “This trip is so much better with you here. Nice nails.” He looked down at them and kissed my knuckles lightly.
“Come here.” I wrapped him in a hug and never wanted to let him go. “You were so amazing today. I think Leighton has a thing for you, by the way.”
“Oh yeah, he’s very hot,” he said, deadpan. “In fact …”
I threw my hand across his face. “Don’t you dare joke about that.”
“Ha, you’re so easy. It’s too fun to rile you up.”
“No treat for you then.”
He bit his lip as if he knew I loved it and walked towards me seductively. Then he placed his hand on my bulging cock and stroked. “What? None of this. Really? It’s as much a treat for me as it is you.”
I couldn’t help the moan that escaped when he dipped his hand inside the robe. Of course I’d thrown it on. My head threw back of its own volition, I swear. “Damn, and what I meant,” I said through gritted teeth, “was this.” I picked up the nearby Dib Dabs and held it up to him.
Instantly, he dropped his hand. “Oh, much better treat.”
“You cheeky bastard. Get over here and finish what you started.” I stroked myself and opened the robe, letting it drop. “You wouldn’t make me take care of this myself, would you?” Then I walked over to the bench area under the large dormer window, my back facing outside. I widened my legs and brought them up to sit on the edge, completely exposed. I lifted my balls to show him my hole.
In a flash, he was in front of me and bent down by my cock. I could feel his breath near it. He looked at me. “Can I?” His thumb brushed across my hole, and it clenched automatically.
“What? Ah, I’ve never.”
“My tongue, just my tongue,” he murmured, staring at my hole in fascination.
I continued to hold my balls up and out of the way, and nodded. He bent down further, and I felt his
flat tongue lick across my hole. It was a foreign feeling. His wet tongue circled my hole and I closed my eyes, zoning in on the sensation.
Then his tongue darted in and out … in and out … and I kept holding my balls and cock up. “Oh god. This is, ah …” I couldn’t talk coherently.
Rutledge pushed his tongue in further and swatted my hand away. I tried not to giggle at my balls falling near his nose. “I better turn around. I’m going to come really soon.” I placed my hands on the seat and stared out the window, noticing it was raining. His tongue got back to work and he held my cock. When he stopped, I let out a gasp. “No!” Then he worked my dick while his tongue stayed inside. Every one of my nerve endings were on fire. “Damn, damn, damn.” I was coming and coming all over and almost crying from the intensity of it. To have his tongue deep inside me and my cock pumped at the same time was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Toys had nothing on this.
Turning around, I looked down at Rutledge, cross-legged on the floor. “Like it?” he asked, sounding uncertain.
Messy or not, I moved down to sit in front of him and swung my legs to either side of his own. He maneuvered his legs to stretch them out under me. “Yes, a million times, yes. I’d for sure let you know if not. It would probably sound something like letting out a high-pitch noise and saying ‘no’ about ten times. I will always tell you if not, especially when we try new stuff.”
Grabbing his cock, I stroked up and down ever so slowly. “Now, you’re not going to come until I say.”
He nodded.
I gazed into Rutledge’s eyes as I stroked. My hand moved to cup his balls, and I put my other hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got you”.
His eyes closed and then opened again. “Close. I’m close.” His abs tightened as he clenched. I could sense him chasing his orgasm as I held him. His shoulders strained.
I leaned in and whispered, “Not yet,” and held his cock at the base. I was watching his every movement, every subtlety. It was mind blowing to know I could make him feel like this. It felt like I was one with him. Rutledge was my everything.
The slow movements continued and then it got to be too much. I sped up and leaned my head into his shoulder with my eyes closed, just feeling him, holding on to him, and then turned to witness as he let go and came for me. “Yes, for me. All mine.” His come poured out all over my hand and the floor, and I held him tight as he came down from the high. The intensity was surreal. I knew in that moment, I would try and be everything I could for Rutledge.”
“Ollie, I, what I feel for you, with you.” His voice sounded muffled as if he were underwater. “I can’t live without you. What are we going to do?”
I didn’t want to leave him hanging, but I didn’t know the answer either. Instead, I rubbed the back of his head as we sat there for the longest time, holding each other on the floor. As the rain pattered against the window, I never wanted to let him go.
The feelings and emotions were overwhelming. We had but a few more weeks together. After moments of silence, or perhaps much longer, I was about to ask him if he would consider staying and try to find work here. But I didn’t. How could I do that if he wanted to get back home?
We started rocking and then a shiver ran right through me. “Come on.” I pulled Rutledge up and brought him to the bathroom. “Wait.” He didn’t really make any effort to move, and I wondered what he was thinking about. He seemed to be in a daze.
I grabbed our new favourite body wash from my bag and my own shampoo as well, and turned on the shower. Dragging him in with me, I squirted some on my hand and placed him under the water. “Get your hair wet.”
He moved to lean back under the spray of water.
Then I lathered the body wash all over him and squirted out shampoo and massaged it through my hair. “Okay?” I asked.
“I’m …” he whimpered, I couldn’t describe it as anything other than that, “I’m going to miss you. I don’t know if I can do it.”
I rinsed him off and he seemed to let me manhandle him, then I pulled him out of the shower and dried him off. The other robe was on the back of the bathroom door, and I wrapped it round him. I left him there while I quickly went back in to rinse myself off.
I heard his phone ringing. “Do you, uh, want to get it?” I went over and saw Brenna’s name float across the screen. “It’s Brenna.”
“Sure.”
I passed the phone over to him and then went through to dry off and give him some privacy.
25
RUTLEDGE
“Hey, Brenna, how are you?”
“Good. Just checking in. How’s it going there?”
“Good, I think. Ollie’s here too.”
“That’s nice. Holden LaCarre was very impressed. Very. In fact, he wants to work with you back in New York. A one-year contract at NYC Squared Models.”
I tried not to cry. Looking around the room where I knew Ollie was keeping his distance to give me space, tears started to fall. “Oh,” I hoped my voice didn’t sound wobbly, “that’s awesome.” I obviously wasn’t good at faking it. “New York,” I said half-heartedly.
“Rutledge, what’s wrong? I can hear it in your voice. It’s Ollie, isn’t it?”
I nodded though she couldn’t see me.
“Look, okay, I’ll send you the documents, but I’ll tell them you need some time to make your decision. That’s understandable. You’re going to be in high demand so I’d surmise that you’d get other offers.”
“Thank you, Brenna. Truly. I better go.” I hit End and wiped away my tears. I should be elated by this opportunity. And New York City? I’d be closer to California, sure, even though it was still a continent away. Maybe I could make sure every photoshoot would happen in London. Yeah, right. The thought crossed my mind to ask Ollie to come to the United States and apply to dance schools and performances there. But that was ridiculous. He loved where he was.
There was too much to process now, and I forced myself to push it to the side. We had the rest of tonight together and tomorrow as well in Edinburgh. Looking at the time, I realized we’d missed any chance of going to the record fair.
Ollie came back into the room, and I wasn’t entirely sure how much he’d heard or knew. We both seemed to be drifting, lost in our own thoughts. He played on his phone and I checked my emails. There were the shots of us smiling together in front of the camera. I touched the screen and then sent one to Stuart. I’d commissioned him to draw us for Ollie’s birthday. I just hoped he had enough time to complete it. If not, I was going to frame a small one to give him anyway.
I opened up the clothing website and found the exact shirt he’d seen in a shop window today and ordered one. I knew he’d look extraordinary in it. It was a pink collared button up shirt with blue and white paisley along the opening, collar, and pocket. Not many people could pull it off, but I knew Ollie would.
Just as he came around to look from behind my shoulder, I quickly closed the screen.
“What ya looking at?”
“Can’t a man have any secrets?” I replied.
“No,” was his immediate reply.
He stood over my left shoulder, staring at me. I could sense it. Leaning back into him, I said, “Well, tough.”
Eventually we went to bed.
26
OLLIE
The trip to Edinburgh had been going perfect until I overheard part of Rutledge’s call. I waited and waited for him to tell me, but he never brought it up, so I didn’t either. He would go to New York and that would be that. I couldn’t ask him to not take the opportunity. What would that make me. The rest of the trip was enjoyable, but I could sense he was acting strained. When I touched his shoulders, they felt knotted, and he seemed lost in his own thoughts. I didn’t like it one bit.
Now I was back home with Jules. Rutledge had a meeting at work. I could have gone to the dance academy to practice but wasn’t feeling it. Instead, I was spread out and stretching on the floor. I’d spied some balloons in Jules’ roo
m and was getting excited. I knew she’d planned a surprise party. But of course, I’d pretend I didn’t know and act accordingly.
“So, at dinner tomorrow night, is it casual or more formal?” I asked innocently. She’d invited Rutledge and me to go out with her and Adele for dinner, but I had my suspicions. When I’d tried to get anything out of Rutledge, he wouldn’t give anything up either. I even tried to catch him out, with no luck.
“Whatever you’d like. Probably in between.”
“Going well with you and Adele then? She’s still on the scene.” I’d mainly asked to see if she’d slip about my party, but instead …
She blushed like a schoolgirl, which I’d never seen in my life. “Well”—she sat down on the couch near me and clasped her hands—“she wants me to meet her parents. I’m kind of freaking out. I don’t do this.” She pointed at me. “We don’t do this, do we?”
“I don’t know. Rutledge lost his mum when he was young, and his dad sounds like kind of an ass. But I’d meet him. If only to show him how much I care for his son.”
“What happened to us?” Juliette’s tone was not negative at all.
“I don’t know, but I like it better this way.” I almost let it slip and said, and make sure Adele comes to my party, but I stopped myself just in time. Then I realized that I hadn’t told Rutledge it was my birthday because I didn’t want a big fuss made, and I wondered if Juliette had told him anything. Well, there was nothing I could do about it now.
I’d like to say that I woke up on my birthday in high spirits, but not quite. I hated acknowledging that I was twenty-six now. Sob. Past the quarter-century mark. But then I saw my door open and Juliette came in with a tray filled with breakfast.
I stretched and got excited when she handed me a bag. Trying to peek in through the tissue paper, she said I had to wait until after breakfast. I gave her a giant hug. “Thank you.”
Rutledge (Mayfair Model Series Book 3) Page 15
