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It worked for him, though, because he rose each morning looking refreshed and ready to tackle the day.
Except for Saturday.
On Saturday morning, Marc slept in late—as if he were trying to catch up on all the rest he missed during the week. He would drag out of bed, skipping the lounge pants that he’d given up sleeping in since they’d had sex, and stumble to the kitchen for that first cup of coffee. It was only when the caffeine started to hit his system that he’d remember the need for pants, but usually only after flashing Royce a cheeky smile. Sure, they’d agreed to let things happen naturally, but Marc had taken up the approach of trying to gently nudge them back into bed together. Not that Royce minded. This teasing, playful side of Marc was just as addictive as his lips.
After Marc was dressed, the rest of the day would likely be spent running errands, cleaning around the house, and something low-key.
It would be their third Saturday together, and Royce found himself looking forward to the day. It was the one time out of the week that Marc unplugged completely from work and even avoided his family. And as those two things fell away, Royce got to see a little more of the man he really was when he wasn’t trying to live up to something Royce couldn’t yet put a name to.
But right now, all he could think about was crawling up Marc and pinning his shoulders to the mattress before licking along that sexy curve of his back. He’d hold him there until he was moaning and humping the mattress for relief. Then he’d flip him over and suck his cock down to the back of his throat.
Other than fucking that one night after the gallery show, they’d kept their distance—except for when they were “on” in front of his family and friends. That didn’t mean the need wasn’t still there. It was like a living, breathing thing under his skin, begging to get out. He craved Marc’s taste, the feel of his skin against his own. He loved how Marc trusted him so completely, handing over all control.
What worried him was that it wasn’t just the sex that kept him needing to be as close as possible to Marc. When they were alone at home, Marc could easily talk about nearly anything, drawing Royce into conversations where he normally wouldn’t speak. Their evenings were often spent watching movies up in the private theater or playing pool. Something Marc was incredibly bad at. He’d admitted one night that he’d gotten the pool table simply to fill the space and for the entertainment of his guests. Royce had taken obscene pleasure in giving Marc pointers so that he wasn’t utterly lost, while giving himself an excuse to hover closely as Marc lined up his shot.
Two weeks on the same job with no breaks, and Royce had never felt so comfortable around a client. Marc’s every action seemed to make Royce feel as if he simply belonged in his life. He never asked about Royce’s past, never asked uncomfortable questions like too many people in his life.
Of course, Royce hadn’t asked about Marc’s past, and there were pieces he was starting to wonder about. Like how was someone as amazing and smart as Marc single? Or what had happened to make Rowe dislike him so much?
Marc’s low groan made him focus on the bed again. The other man rolled over and rubbed his face before he looked at Royce. “Is that for me?”
“Nope,” Royce said before taking a deep drink.
“Ugh. Then go away.”
“It’s almost eleven. Time to get up. You can’t stay in bed all day.”
“Yes, I can. Come over here and let me show you how.”
“Nope.” Royce turned and strolled back toward the kitchen before he gave in to the temptation.
“You’re losing points from your awesome boyfriend rating,” Marc called after him. It was only because his back was to Marc that he allowed the smile that crossed his face.
Putting his mug on the center island, he turned to grab one out of the cabinet for Marc. He’d stretch and grumble, then finally get out of bed and shuffle to the kitchen for coffee. God, he hoped the man put on pants. He had great muscular legs and a wicked-tight ass. There was only so much temptation he could take.
His cell phone vibrated in the back pocket of his jeans. He reached for it, and his heart skipped a beat. His mother never called him while he was on a job unless it was an emergency. He’d checked in with her just before meeting Marc for the first time. He’d called her once more last week, and she’d said that everything was fine. She’d even sounded good, stronger than she had in a while.
