Page 22 of Brought By the Storm

“Hmm. You like people bowing to you, huh?”

He shrugged. “I am a president, after all.”

“Yes sir,” I joked. “At your command, sir.”

Carrington’s eyes clouded. “I hate to tell you how much that just turned me on.”

“Uh oh. You’re not an S and M master type, are you?” I asked, though suspecting he wasn’t.

He shook his head. “Nothing like that. But having you do as I tell you does have its appeal.”

“Oh?”

“Mm-hmm.” He nodded. “Now, take off your shirt.”

It was just a shirt, and I knew I was in good shape. But I wasn’t built like Carrington. I was nervous, but under his watchful gaze, I found myself unbuttoning my pajama top. “Um, you’re straight. What if you don’t like what you see? I mean, I even have a farmer’s tan.”

He looked sympathetic. “Eric, I promise there is nothing about you that I can imagine not liking. But if you don’t want to, then don’t. I would never try to force someone to do something that makes them uncomfortable. But now I must know, what is a farmer’s tan?”

I was about to answer, but instead I mustered the courage to finish removing the shirt. I let out a sigh when I got to the last button, and pulled the fabric away from me before I could second-guess myself. “That’s a farmer’s tan,” I answered, letting my body speak for itself. My face, neck, throat and forearms were dark from my day’s activities, but the rest of me was my usual pallor. “I guess I should have listened to Mateo about working shirtless.”

I dared to peek at his face for his reaction. He looked amused. “You thought that would make you unattractive?”

“I’m no Stefan. Or Mateo, for that matter,” I whispered.

Carrington surprised me by taking my face into both of his hands. “No, you’re not. I’m glad. I’m not attracted to them. They’re handsome. You’re beautiful. Look at you.”

“I’d rather look at you,” I admitted, staring into his eyes.

“Okay, that’s fair. Look all you want, because I can’t take my eyes off you,” he said in a raspy tone. My dick twitched.

“So, you can be attracted to a guy’s body?” I wondered.

“Apparently,” he confirmed. “There’s a part of me that’s saying I’m very much interested, if you know what I mean. You look better than I hoped. Your chest…it’s exquisite.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “It is?”

His tone had a sleepy, sexy quality to it. “Mm-hmm. So smooth, and yet so toned. You have nice pectoral muscles, and your nipples are…perfect. One of the things I like best about women is their breasts. I’m a breast man. Love their big nipples too. Makes me want to lick and suck them every time I see a nice pair. I think one of the reasons I don’t like guys is their chests just don’t interest me that way.”

I frowned. “Are you saying my chest reminds you of a woman’s?”

He chuckled. “No, Eric. But some of the things I like about a woman’s breasts are why I like your chest. I told you, I’m not a fan of body hair. I don’t like bulging muscles either. And a lot of guys have small nipples—just kind of unnoticeable. You, on the other hand, while strong, have that silky skin and those quarter-sized nipples that are lying there so nice and erect, I want to lick them.”

“Oh,” was all I managed to whisper.

“And that beautiful, flat hairless stomach—heaving with nervousness and anticipation—is driving me crazy,” he added.

“Um, you hate body hair a lot, huh?”

He chuckled at that. “I guess it sounds like I have a body hair phobia. I don’t. I just know what I’m attracted to.”

“I have pubic hair, and a little in my arm pits,” I confessed, now silently cursing every follicle. At least I had trimmed the hair in both areas a couple of days earlier.

“Good.” He smiled.

“Good? But…”

“I don’t want someone who looks like a prepubescent child, for heaven’s sake. Like I said, I love your muscles. You’re very much a man, just a very angelic-looking one. And it’s intoxicating when it’s the packaging for a very sweet soul.”