“Yeah?” I asked and looked at him.

“Why the fuck are we watching this kids’ show?”

I swung my gaze back to the TV, and it penetrated what I’d left it on. Some fucked-up costumed things that didn’t even talk.

“This just came on. Somethin’ else was on first,” I said and changed the channel. I stopped on a basketball game. We stayed silent and watched it for a bit while sipping our drinks.

It wasn’t bad just chilling in my room with Saint… except for the fact I’d just sucked his dick again and he’d made me come—hard—and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, but I needed to because we couldn’t make it a regular thing. Saint would soon understand just what he’d been doing, and then he’d be a normal straight guy and freak out before getting out of there. Then it’d be awkward between us at work and the compound. Great.

Saint put his glass on the bedside table and got off the bed. He went to his clothes and started to dress, all while watching me. I felt his gaze burning into me even though I kept mine on the TV. Finally, he was acting normal.

“Kylo,” he called. I looked to him as he walked back to where he’d left his phone. Then he had my eyes again. He put a knee to the bed, leaned over, and pressed his lips to my shoulder.

“Night,” he said, and looked up at me.

I cleared my thick throat.

He’d kissed my shoulder.

My skin.

“Yeah, night.” I nodded. He grinned, straightened, and walked from the room.

What the hell was that all about?

Why did he do that?

This was fucking weird. Saint made no sense. I scrubbed a hand over my face.

I hadn’t expected the first time he’d agreed for me to give him head, but then it happened a second time, and he’d had his hand in my boxers, wrapped around my dick. Then he kissed my shoulder.

That was intimate.

Right, I was going to have to get him out of my head, away from my body, and when I had to, we’d speak like boss and employee.

His ride started up out the front. I went to leap off the bed but locked my body down. It was strange that I suddenly thought that I didn’t want him to go. I shook my head. I did want him to go. I did. He had to.

I groaned and shook my head. I got off the bed and went to have another shower. I’d push him in the back of my mind and concentrate on work, both at the compound and for Polished.

I would have believed myself more if I didn’t masturbate in the damn shower over the vision of Saint jacking me off. Only that time, he would dip his head and kiss me like he wanted to make me his. I would have believed myself if I hadn’t cried his name at the end.