Quit looking at me like that,I whisper.
And then he starts walking toward me.
Slow. Unhurried.
As though he’s enjoying the view.
I adjust my shirt, focusing intently on the cufflink.
Even when I can feel the heat between us.
“Here, let me help with that,” he says.
He reaches down to uncuff me, sliding a warm hand inside my sleeve.
Pushing the fabric up toward my elbow.
“Much better,” he whispers. “Not so stiff.”
The words have never sounded so erotic.
I open my mouth to respond, but can’t.
“The studio looks beautiful. Even more magical than I hoped it would,” he says.
A hand brushes my hip.
The contact is casual.
But I feel it everywhere.
“Your team really pulled out all the stops. I'm so impressed.”
He gives my bicep a light squeeze.
I force myself to speak.
“You're a hard man to please, Mr Vale.”
Amos leans closer.
Close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath against my neck.
“I mean it,” he says. “You've exceeded my expectations, Marco.”
My name melts on his tongue.
His hand moves slowly down my arm.
Fingers trace through the fabric until they reach my hand.
Such a devastating smile.
Most definitely an eye fuck.
He releases me, turning toward a group of guests who have just arrived.
He crosses the room as though nothing has happened.
