I wondered what it cost Easton every time he did that. “So is this place worthy of your first post-grad-school home, professor?” The way he looked at me, with hopeful eyes, like he needed me to play along, was enough to disarm me.

“I don’t know, Mr. Archer. Are you going to be a good landlord?”

Was I flirting? Trying to impress? I wasn’t even sure what kind of life I was living anymore. But it was all worth it when I saw that smile.

“Well I usually have a property management company take care of stuff for my tenants, but for you I might want to take care of things myself.”

Why was him talking about repairing shit in my apartment making me want to fuck him over the staircase railing?

And why had I even gone there?

Once again I had an image come to mind. This time Easton writhing under me as I spread him open with one hand while I worked an enormous dildo into his ass with the other. Pushing it in as he undulated under me, trying to make it go deeper, while I leaned in to lick at his stretched out rim and he begged me to fuck him harder.

This time I really did have to adjust my pants and Easton started moving closer like he knew exactly what was going through my head. Before I knew what was happening he grabbed my shirt, pulling me down to him. I moved fast and grabbed the back of his neck to pull his face to mine. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. No hesitation, not a shred of reluctance.

I had a couple of inches and about thirty pounds on him. I was a big guy, people usually approached with caution, but Easton came to me like he was coming home.

Like there was nothing he could see that he didn’t want to get closer to. I was thinking about what part of him I wanted to get at first when I remembered why I was here, to rent this apartment that he owned. If I got mixed up with Easton, it would get messy.

Messy was one thing I did not do.

I released the hand that I had clasped on the back of his neck and stepped back with a heavy exhale. “Easton.”

He immediately pulled back and glanced up at me, looking dazed. Once again I wished I could just let myself go. Get what we both wanted.

I looked at him trying to figure out how much my hot and cold shit had pissed him off, and he did look pissed, but apparently not for the reason I thought.

“Oh no. Stop that shit.”

I laughed because he was fucking ridiculous.

“Stop what? You’re a mind reader now?”

He lifted a shoulder, but I could tell he was embarrassed about the kiss and I felt like shit. I had to give it to Easton, he could handle discomfort. He powered on, and cleared the air. “As a matter of fact, I am a bit of a reader, not minds, but certainly body language.” He exhaled and waved in my direction. “Looks like once again I pushed you too far too quickly. My bad.”