When he draped my clothes over a chair in the corner, I noticed he’d brought my duffel from the guest room too.

“It went fine. Necessary evil, as Clara calls it,” he responded. “Ain’t enough to be a chef and have your own restaurant anymore. You gotta be approachable to guests—who’re called fans these days.” He shook his head to himself. “I had to sign three cookbooks.”

Oh no, three whole books.

It was endearing to see his evident aversion for social media and what he called “promotional hooplas.”

There was an old-school traditionalist lurking underneath August’s charisma and hospitality.

Sensing that he was exhausted and wanting the evening to end, I rolled down the bedspread so I could get him under the covers quickly. Then I tugged on his hand and pulled him toward me.

“Let me show you the right way to worship an amazing chef.”

Interest sparked up in his tired gaze, and he stayed still while I unbuttoned his shirt and undid his pants.

“I don’t care about your autograph,” I admitted. “I prefer orgasms.”

His grin overpowered a yawn, making his eyes glisten. “I already like your way better.”

I pulled him with me until the back of my legs hit the bed, and I sat down on the edge and thought, fuck, me too. Because his cock was something else. Long, thick, cut, smooth-looking. I leaned in and kissed the base as I gripped his cock loosely, loving the softness of the skin that stretched around him. And nothing in between us. A once-in-a-lifetime indulgence for me outside of a relationship.

August let out a long sigh when I sucked him into my mouth. His hands disappeared into my hair, and I took him all the way in, wanting to feel him grow harder and thicker at the back of my throat.

“Fuck,” he exhaled.

I went all in, coating him in spit, sucking hard, and tracing my tongue along every ridge.

“Did it feel weird when I called you boy earlier today?” he murmured.

I hummed and hollowed out my cheeks as I inched back. “Not in a bad way. Just don’t confuse it with a Little.” I peered up at him with a smirk and sucked him in again.

“It was just my way of recognizin’ that you’re younger than your years.” He smiled down at me and touched my cheek. “I get the feelin’ you’ve been shouldering a dominant role because it’s expected of you once you reach a certain age.”

He wasn’t far off. I attracted younger men like shit attracted flies, but we didn’t want the same dynamic.

“My God, the way you use that tongue,” he muttered. “Get on all fours. I’ve waited long enough.”

Finally. It’d been too damn long since I’d bottomed. Unless, with my sad love life, I wanted to count a collection of toys.