Page 13 of Coming Clean

Jeremy rushedthrough brushing his teeth. Then he made sure he hadn’t left anydirty underwear on the floor. Was anything else particularlypersonal lying about?

Oh, shit!He rushed over to the bed as he did up thebuttons on his shirt. Where was the lube he’d used the nightbefore? His face heated as he thought of the fantasies that had runthrough his head. Connor and his perfect ass starred in all ofthem. He found the little bottle, stuffed under his pillow. He putit in the nightstand drawer and buried it under some nice, innocentliterary magazines. If he started masturbating to existentialistmodern poetry something really would be wrong with him.

He tried to think what elsehe needed to do but his brain was swathed in fog because he hadn’ttaken the time to make coffee this morning. Instead, he planned towalk to the cafe up the street. Hopefully, he could manage itwithout falling over. He really wasn’t any use before his morningshot of caffeine.

He stuffed his laptop inhis bag. What else did he need? His notebook—the old fashioned deadtree kind. Headphones. A pen. He looked through his bag but didn’tsee any good ones, only shitty ballpoints. He never bought those.Where did they even come from? His office? He dug further down inhis bag, finally locating a decent pen.

Was thateverything?

The doorbell rang, and hewalked calmly to the door, no sliding this time. He was evenwearing shoes. Well, sandals anyway, probably Connor would dismissthem as being just the sort of thing a prof from Wentworth Collegewould wear. But at least there were no neon socks and he wasn’tgoing to slam into the door.

Despite preparing himself,when he opened the door Jeremy had the same reaction he’dexperienced before. Paralysis. Connor had this presence, this wayof looking at Jeremy that made him want to agree to anything Connorsaid. He’d be on his knees in a second if Connor told him to, andhe didn’t take anyone’s orders, not since he’d come out, grown up,and started directing his own life.

Most people saw hisdelicate features and smooth skin and assumed he was submissive.But while he had fantasies about letting go, he liked control anddidn’t give it up easily. He needed to know he was safe before hecould let anyone fuck him, and he rarely felt safe. He’d made amistake with Silas the Asshole, ignoring the shitty way the mantreated him. He wouldn’t do that again, but something about Connormade him trust the man more than he had trusted anyone besidesDavid in years.

“Good morning,” Connorsaid, an expectant look on his face.

Perhaps he was waiting forJeremy to step aside and invite him in instead of staring at him.“Come on in.”

Connor set a bag ofcleaning supplies down by the door and glanced around. “Look’s likeyou’ve unpacked a lot more stuff.”

“I tried. Some of it’s upin the attic, but things should be out of your way.”

“Whatever’s not, I’ll workaround it.” Connor waved dismissively.

No need to stand aroundtrying to make small talk. Connor seemed like the kind of man wholiked to get right to work. Jeremy refused to let that disappointhim. “I’m going to grab my bag and go get some work done. Just textor call me if you need anything. I might be back before you’re donebut if so, I’ll stay out of your way.” And try not to watch your ass too much.

Connor looked perplexed,but Jeremy wasn’t sure why. Maybe he wasn’t used to clientsworrying if they interfered with his work. Jeremy still wasn’t usedto the idea of hiring someone to clean. He felt odd, like he oughtto be helping.

“You’re working today?”Connor asked.

“Yes.”

“I thought you were takinga… what’s that word?”

“Sabbatical?” Jeremyasked.

“Right. Isn’t that like avacation?’

“Not really. I don’t haveto show up at my office, and I won’t be teaching any classes duringthe fall semester, but I am supposed to make progress on my book.I’ve been trying to write it for over a year but never had enoughtime with all my teaching responsibilities.”

Connor nodded. “So you’restill working but on your own schedule?”

“Right.”

“Well, goodluck.”

“Thanks. I’m still mostlyorganizing notes at this point, but you probably don’t want to hearabout that, either.”

“Actually, I think it’scool you’re writing a book. I can’t imagine being able to do that.Pulling all those thoughts together and doing all that writing,making it sound good and all.”

“It’s not easy but it isdoable. I think anyone can write a book if they put the time intoit.”

“Really? No way I could dothat,” Connor insisted.

“You might surpriseyourself.”

Connor shrugged.