Mr. Jaguar (5 page)

James cleared his throat. “I thought you’d like to dress for the occasion. What do you think?”

Mike frowned at him. Why would Lovelace care what he thought? “I’m yours for the weekend. Dress me in what you want.”

James frowned and looked at the steering wheel. “I want you to be comfortable. This way you’ll feel more at ease in your role. I’m sure we can compromise.”

“I don’t like suits all that much. But they’re probably the shit in your fancy air-conned hotel?” Was this supposed to be his
Pretty Woman
moment or something?

James sighed, unbuckling his seat belt. “You don’t have to be dressed up like you’re attending the Oscars, you know.”

“I don’t know.” Mike got out of the car, no longer sure what pretending to be James’s boyfriend entailed. “I’d prefer to wear a shirt without a jacket. Oh, and those rimmed glasses.” Maybe James would be more willing to fuck if Mike looked smart?

“That would be great. And we could get some jeans and casual stuff as well if you’re up for it.” James gave him a broad smile. He raised his head and froze, but eventually put his hand on Mike’s nape. “So… shall we train while we’re at it?”

“Y-yeah, sure.” Mike slid his arm around James’s waist. It had a nice firmness to it. He always thought it would be amazing to have a rich boyfriend who’d just give him stuff, but in this situation, he wasn’t all that sure anymore how he felt about it.

James’s eyes darkened, but he looked away with a low chuckle. “I keep forgetting how long your arms are.”

Mike frowned. “What is that supposed to mean? Is this some abstract flirting? Because I don’t get it.”

“No… it’s just that I haven’t dated for a while. You’re getting scratched by the rust on my love joint— God that didn’t come out right either,” moaned James. He pinched the bridge of his nose as his cheeks burst with redness. That fair skin was one of the qualities that had made teasing him so easy.

“Well, it’s not really a date, so you can chill out and tell me what you want. Unless you want me to oil your ‘love joint’, or some shit.” Mike led him toward the door to the mall. It felt weird being gay in public, like every single pair of eyes around them was on him. The Walmart act had been a great stunt, but now it was all becoming a lot more real.

James sighed. “Okay, lesson one: never say stuff like that outside of our hotel room.” He walked up to the mall plan and narrowed his eyes, apparently looking for something specific.

“You said ‘love joint’,” Mike muttered. He didn’t know what James wanted anymore.

“Yeah, that was terrible. Let’s just forget it and move on to some classy dating.” James looked up from the plan, and his hand closed around Mike’s. “Do some shopping, and then we could have coffee.”

“Classy.” Mike laughed nervously, feeling his hand sweat. All his mind could think of was that he was holding a guy’s hand in public, and it wasn’t for a crazy, adrenaline-infused stunt.

James’s hand was smaller than his, less meaty but oh-so-warm. He couldn’t remember ever holding a guy like this. Even the air conditioning in the mall would not stop the warmth spreading through his body. He was stared at. He was judged. It was all happening now.
He
knew it was an act, but no one else did.

“So, imagine that I am playing cards with some of the people from the conference. I win. What do you do?” asked James. “Show me.”

Mike took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Good job!” He patted James on the back. “Err… Get ’em, tiger?”

James blinked. “Try again.”

Mike let out a guttural rasp and lowered his voice. “That was great, I’m gonna fuck you
so hard
tonight if you win more cash.” He leaned closer and nuzzled James’s ear.

James pressed his mouth shut and looked at the floor. It took him a good thirty seconds to compose himself and speak again. “I am being serious. You can’t say things like that in public.”

“I’m just trying to be an encouraging boyfriend. You like to be fucked, I provide that service.” Mike chuckled, imagining they were all alone, not surrounded by prying eyes. He was surprised no one actually said anything. At least there weren’t that many people around.

“That’s not what I want from you. I want you to be my date. Kiss my cheek and tell me I’m doing great, or something,” he grumbled.

Mike swallowed. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know how to handle a guy. “Give me another example. And let’s move somewhere.”

“We’re going to the department store.” James nodded toward a large entrance at the end of the corridor, and it looked like an expensive place. “Another example? What situations are you worried about most?”

“I-I don’t wanna embarrass you when your conference friends come,” he choked out, following James’s lead. When did someone like Lovelace get so bossy, anyway? “Like, what kind of people are your friends there? Are they chilled out, very serious, or should I be joking around with them, fraternizing?”

James led him into the store and down the alley leading through the ladies apparel department with beautiful mannequins in the newest brand collections. He sighed. “They’re not my friends, and that’s the whole point. I’m openly gay, and not all of them approve of that. That is where you come in. I need you to be this dream guy who they can all see is a catch, even if they’re straight.”

Mike nodded slowly and squeezed James’s hand tighter. “For them to imagine that if they were gay, I’d be the trophy boyfriend?”

“Yeah, but better than some of their dumb wives,” muttered James. He raised his head to look at Mike with a small smile. “I just don’t want it to be too explicit. You know, Obamas.”

Mike smiled back. “Gay Obamas, promise.”

James bit his lip and nodded. He’d become so handsome over the years that it was not straightforward, but Mike could see the resemblance to James’s teenage self. Even as an ugly duckling, James had great bone structure, high cheekbones and a straight nose. And then there were the plump lips that held the promise of a great blowjob.

“So what are we getting?” Mike asked and started browsing through the shirts featured at the front of the men’s department. “Oh, and why are these guys not your friends?”

James snorted as he picked one garment out before putting it back on a round rack. “We just share certain interests and pretend to be friends. I don’t think I fit in with them, but it’s hard to explain.”

Mike couldn’t believe James actually had frenemies. “That sounds surprisingly similar to high school. But aren’t those your nerdy friends or something?”

James stopped, staring at a tall mannequin in a grey suit. His brows gathered together, and he nodded. “Now that I think about it, yeah. I guess I’m still the nerdy gay guy.” He cleared his throat. “I’d say you need one white shirt, and at least one of a different color.”

“I look good in gray.” Mike looked up at the mannequin. He wouldn’t wear something like that on a daily basis, but he was curious how he would look in a suit this fine. “And you’re not a nerdy gay guy.” Mike looked James up and down. The guy was so sleek looking. “You work out, don’t you?” Mike wiggled his eyebrows and poked James’s stomach with his fist.

James stiffened, but it only lasted a moment. “Yeah, every other day. There’s a twenty-four hour gym in my apartment building. Choose the shirts you like, and we’ll just try them on.”

“‘We’ll try them’? Are you gonna help me put them on?” Mike said, grinning at the prospect. “I like you so big and firm. I wanna see
you
try stuff on.”

James chuckled. “We’re sharing a hotel room, so you’ll get your chance to see it all in the flesh. Now pick whatever you like, and we’ll go from there.”

Mike just stood there for a moment, shamelessly imagining James naked. Would he have a dusting of hair on his chest as he did on his arms? Mike had no idea what it would be like to touch a firm chest instead of a soft one, but he couldn’t wait to find out. He picked up four different shirts, afraid to even look at the price tags, and they made their way to the fitting rooms.

“Hey, what about the rest? Pants? T-shirts? Underwear? Take your pick. I want to be proud of my date,” chuckled James, following him.

“How much can I choose though?” Mike looked into those gorgeous blue eyes framed by black lashes, and his heart skipped a beat. He’d die if he shared a hotel room with James and didn’t fuck him tonight.

James shrugged. “Just pick what you like and later we’ll decide what looks good on you.”

“How rich are you exactly?” Mike eyed him, piling more clothes over his arm. He’d be lying if he claimed not to be jealous. James seemed to have everything Mike could possibly wish for. He was smart, rich, handsome, and drove a Jag on top of it all.

James snorted. “‘Rich’ enough. Now tell me how you would ask me to give you salt at the table.”

Mike looked to the clothes in his hand, feeling heat creep up his neck. “Are you trying to mock me? You must think I’m an idiot.”

James frowned. “Just tell me what you’d say.”

So this was the price Mike would have to pay for the clothes. “Jamie, could you pass the salt please?” He felt like a trained monkey.

James stopped, glancing at him with slightly widened eyes. “That… yes, that was really nice.” He scratched his nape and went on toward the denim section.

Mike followed, watching the shape of James’s wide shoulders, nicely pronounced by the slim fit shirt. He wasn’t as big as Mike, but almost as tall and with nice, narrow hips. Mike could only imagine how glorious that ass had to look. He’d bury his face in it and sleep there. He frowned at the thought, unsure if that was weird or not. It was another man’s ass after all.

“Surprise me,” said James, glancing toward a wall of shoes. “Come up from behind me and surprise me.”

Mike frowned. That wouldn’t be much of a surprise, would it? Yet, he put the clothes down on a shelf for a moment and took quiet steps toward James, trying to imagine they were a couple on their honeymoon. He slid his arms under James’s and hugged him from behind. “You like any of the shoes, Jamie?”

James leaned back into him with a soft sigh. “Yes. You should get some to match your new clothes.”

“Choose some for me then.” Mike nuzzled James’s ear. “You have such excellent taste.”

James sighed and slowly turned in his arms. He had a confident smile, but the redness on his face spoke volumes. “After we decide which clothes to take, all right?”

“Sure, anything you want. I don’t mind.” Mike smiled at him even though he could feel someone’s gaze stabbing him in the back. James would not be thinking Mike couldn’t do his job properly. The fuck was up with that? Asking for salt. Did James really assume Mike didn’t watch television, or something? Okay, so maybe Mike wasn’t Mr. Proper, but he could pretend to be if he wanted to. Hell! He could be the boyfriend of the year if he wanted to. All pliant and adoring. Whatever.

“Who do we have here? Isn’t that our resident genius?” asked a deep, masculine voice, and the expression of bliss melted off James’s face like a pile of snow under a radiator. He turned around to look at a tall man in a sharp gray suit, much like the one they’d seen on a mannequin minutes earlier. Tanned, blue-eyed, with teeth like expensive porcelain (which they probably were), and tiny wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. Come to think of it, the guy looked a bit like a mannequin himself. He smiled at them like a television host. “I see you have company this year.”

James’s arms turned into wood under Mike’s touch, but his voice didn’t betray tension. “Oh, hi, Richard. Picking something up last minute?”

“Oh, Savannah wanted to buy some new shoes before the conference,” he said and gestured to a young blonde girl in the shoe section. In her high heels, she was as tall as Mike, but probably one third of his weight. “And you don’t have to call me Richard, just call me Rich.” He kept up the ridiculously wide smile and held his hand out to Mike. “And you are?”

“Mike.” He shook Richard’s hand, still unsure what tactic to go with, but he never took his arm away from James’s waist. “I came straight from L.A. so I need some new clothes for the weekend.”

Richard gave him a long once-over, which only made Mike more aware of the crappy fabrics he was wearing.

“So, you’ve known each other long?” he asked, and James cleared his throat.

“We met shortly after the last conference.”

“But it was love at first sight.” Mike grinned and gave James’s cheek a peck. If it was the boyfriend experience James wanted, that was what he would get.

Richard gave a slow nod, looking back to his wife. “Yeah, Tabitha Miles brought her husband last year, but the organizers hadn’t predicted there would be men in the partners’ activities. The poor guy ended up getting a facial.”

James leaned back, just enough that Mike could actually feel it. “Her husband is a lovely man.”

Mike grinned. “That’s what’s so great about being gay. I can go with James to all the activities planned for the men.” Maybe James knew how to be nasty, but Mike was not gonna let him down now that they were on the same team.

Richard chuckled. “Isn’t that a bit sexist?”

“He’s very enthusiastic about my work,” said James.

Mike shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s sexist, it wasn’t me who planned all the activities for the attendee’s partners with ladies in mind. I just came here to support Jamie in anything he wants.” He petted James’s nape and gave him another kiss. “I enjoy it as a short break from my work.”

“And what is it that you do?” asked Richard, stepping closer. He looked a bit like a Ken doll Mike’s cousin always placed at the bottom of the pile of Barbies.

“I’m a personal trainer. How do you think Jamie got into such amazing shape?” Mike laughed and pinched James’s waist.

Richard snorted. “So, is he a finished project now?”

James straightened his back, tensing again, but before he could answer, Mike grabbed at the bottom of James’s shirt and pulled it up to expose the stomach. “Are you kidding me?” Mike stroked the firm, flat muscle that tightened under his touch. He wouldn’t come up with a better excuse to do it if he tried. “This is rock solid. It’s just maintenance now.”

Richard gave them a wide grin that didn’t even get near his eyes. “Maybe you won’t get your ass kicked at paintball this time then.”