It was said blandly, with an air of nonchalance, like it made no difference to Damon what Micah decided. But Micah could hear the dare in the words anyway. Micah blamed his stubborn streak and his inability to back down from a challenge for what came out of his mouth next. “No, I haven’t changed my mind.”

Damon brought the carrot back to his mouth and raised his eyebrows, his cue for Micah to open up.

Micah’s face blazed, but he obeyed, and Damon carefully fed him, pushing his fingers against his lips, almost inside. The carrot was earthy and sweet, and Micah tongued the bit of glaze that got caught on the corner of his mouth. Damon’s eyes tracked the movement before he picked up another bit of carrot. “More?” he asked.

Micah nodded.

By the time they’d finished their meal, Micah’s stomach had felt heavy and sated with something that had nothing to do with the amount of food he’d eaten. (His cock had also been straining against the zipper of his pants.)

Of course, his erection had quickly wilted when Damon revealed at the very end of dinner the reason he was so insistent that Micah learn proper dining etiquette ASAP. It had everything to do with the next event he was expected to attend with Damon.

A fancy charity gala on Saturday evening.

And unfortunately for Micah, Saturday evening had arrived.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Micah stared at himself in his dingy bathroom mirror, feeling like an utter imposter in one of the ridiculously expensive suits Damon had bought him two weeks ago exactly.

The man had called and suggested Micah wear the gray ensemble with the leather suspenders and navy bowtie. Micah may have kicked up a fuss about it if he thought it was an order, but Damon had asked nicely enough, so he’d obliged.

He’d also attempted to style his hair, so it looked purposefully messy instead of the regular messy it usually was. Then, in a moment of inspiration, he’d dug out the eyeliner and mascara he’d used to play hooker with when he’d first met Damon. The black was a little smudged around his eyes – he wasn’t nearly as skilled at applying makeup as Tessa – but he thought the end-job was passable.

No amount of fiddling with his hair or messing with makeup could banish his nerves, however. Micah felt clammy in his suit despite the winter weather, and the bowtie around his neck felt more like a noose than a clothing accessory.

He was relieved when his phone finally chimed, announcing that Damon was outside. He slipped on a pair of loafers before shrugging his arms through the fancy trench coat Damon had bought him specifically to be worn over suits and headed out.