Page 32 of Praised
He cleared his throat and waggled his head like he was trying to shake the mood off.
“I told you to call me when you were the man I deserved and you did me one better,” he said, giving a sincere smile. “The least I can do is stay the night.”
“I hate the sound of that.”
“I want to come in.” Rose closed the space between us and grabbed my hand. “It just reminded me about the difference in the size of our bank accounts.”
There wasn’t much I could do about the money issue. I came from money and I continued to live with it. I’d never been ashamed of my upbringing and I was thankful for everything it had afforded me. It had given me advantages, I knew, and I’d made sure to use every single one. I’d built myself a good and honest life, and I wouldn’t apologize for that.
“If it gets too much, you can leave,” I told him. “I don’t want that, but I don’t want you to hate being here.”
“I can just close my eyes if it gets too much, Flynn. Don’t worry about me.” He gave my hand a squeeze, then a pull toward the door. “I’m just tired from work.”
“We’ll get you to bed then.”
“Feels like it defeats the purpose,” he muttered, following me toward the porch.
“I’m very happy to fuck you until you can’t keep your eyes open if that’s what you prefer.”
My front door was made of thin, vertical slats of teak wood, and it unlocked itself on my approach. Pushing the massive panel open, I pulled Rose inside behind me and gave him another minute to adjust.
The inside of the house was just as dramatic as the front, maybe more.
“Does your house have walls?” he asked, taking a step before coming to a stop. He looked down at his shoes, down at mine, down at the pearl-flaked tile between us.
“Not as such.”
Rose mumbled something under his breath, then toed off his sneakers and gave them a gentle kick toward the umbrella rack in the corner.
“Do you want a tour?” I asked.
“It all feels pretty self-explanatory.”
Rose didn’t care about the terrazzo imported from Italy or why my designer had chosen teak wood instead of maple or oak. I doubted he’d be concerned about the salt water pool or the heated floors in the bathroom. As he navigated his way around the open floor plan of my house, I felt the weight of his judgement bearing down on my shoulders, accentuated by every click of my shoes against the tile that rang out over the silence of his own footsteps.
“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked, dragging his fingertips across the corner of the kitchen counter.
“Through here.”
Apart from the bathrooms, there was only one room with a door in the house, and that was, of course, the bedroom. But the door hinged in the middle, much like the front door, which allowed me to maintain the open floor plan flow if I wanted. Which I often did. We never used my house for entertaining the way we did with Rob’s. He was the one with the playroom and the parties and the toys. All things that I’d never really needed for the way I liked to fuck.
“You have a pool,” Rose said, taking in the view of the back yard. The outside-facing wall was all glass, again hinged to open up if I wanted air or access to the yard.
“Did you want to swim?”
He shook his head and reached behind him, gathering his shirt and rucking up the soft cotton and pulling it over his head. With his back to me, he let the shirt fall onto the floor, and it looked perfectly at home there in a way I didn’t think I’d ever be able to explain.Helooked at home in my home. Even though he was tired and dirty from work, dirty from me, I watched him and immediately saw all of the organic ways he would fit into my space.
Into my life.
Rose pivoted toward the wall and pointed at the fireplace. “Is that real?”
“Gas.”
“Would you turn it on?”
I loved that he wasn’t scared to ask for what he wanted, to speak up for what he needed. He’d been so vocal about wanting to top me the first night we spent together, but not shutting down the idea of flipping. Even now, I’d offered and he hadn’t told me no, but if he settled into my bed and immediately fell asleep, I think I would have enjoyed that just as much.
Seeing Rose wander and acclimate had me almost as hard as when we’d jerked him off in the back seat of my car, and that was new for me. I’d never wanted someone in my home. I’d never wanted them to feel comfortable or settled around my things. But him?
