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That was the Teo I knew. “Of course you have. He’s lucky to have you.”
“I’m lucky to have him. He’s always treated me like family. And he gripes at me like family. I’m trying to cut salt out of his diet, and he’s being a total bitch about it.” He laughed softly. “I found this salt substitute a nurse friend of mine recommended and put it on his potato last night. He loved it. Then I used it in the soup I made today. So far it totally has him fooled. I can’t decide whether or not to tell him about it just so I can have the satisfaction of seeing his face.”
“Is Chris giving you time off work to make up for looking after him?” I suspected I knew the answer to that, but I wanted to make sure Chris wasn’t expecting him to be nurse to Mr. Banks and a full-time consultant too.
“Oh yeah, of course. It’s not a problem. I’m handing off my two projects to another nurse consultant so I can be here with Gordon full-time for now.”
“Good. I’m glad he’s recovering well so far.”
The conversation change had understandably deflated my dick, so I turned on my side to get more comfortable. I wanted to see him, so I pressed the button to turn the call into a FaceTime one.
He accepted, and suddenly I was looking at the pale skin of his throat above a soft-looking red sweater.
“Ooop, sorry,” he said, angling the camera up with a soft laugh. “Better?”
He was grinning adorably, and his eyes looked bright and happy.
“You’re beautiful,” I said without thinking. “So fucking gorgeous.” I reached a finger out to trace the one wild curl above his ear.
His face flushed. “Charmer. Why aren’t you out there using those smooth moves to seduce the men of Vegas back to your hotel?”
“Because I’d rather be alone in my room talking to you,” I admitted. “Besides, I have a boyfriend, remember?”
He blushed even deeper pink. “Right. So, um, that reminds me I was getting ready to ask you if you could come to a thing with me Friday night. As… as my date. You know, my boyfriend, or whatever.”
Teo’s dark eyelashes fluttered around while he avoided looking at me.
I grinned at him. “Of course I will. What’s the thing?”
“A Cubs game. The company has a box, and a bunch of Chris’s and my friends are going.”
“Box seats at Wrigley? Twist my arm.”
He smiled back and finally looked at me. “Okay, yeah, it’s pretty cool. Good. Thank you.”
I wanted to hold him, reach out and pull him against my body so I could remind myself what he felt like, tasted like, smelled like. It made me feel strangely unmoored, like I was drifting away from an anchor that was meant to keep me steady, safe, protected.
“Are you getting enough sleep?” I asked, clearing my throat. “Are you eating?”
The look on Teo’s face was affectionate and soft. “Yes, Daddy.”
I couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Don’t ever say that to an actual Daddy Dom or he will squirrel you away, and I’ll never get to see you again.”
“Just you, then,” he teased. “Oh, and maybe my real dad.”
“Ewww. Now I’m never getting hard again. Take it back.”
We continued to talk and joke, flirt and tease, until I realized several hours had passed and it was well past midnight in Chicago. I could tell Teo was getting drowsy, and our conversation had already slipped into that sleepy, slow kind of meander that was more about not wanting to say goodbye than anything else.
“You need to get some sleep, baby,” I said, the endearment slipping out without me realizing it. When I heard myself say the word, I almost choked on my tongue. I’d called him “babe” before, but never like this. Never in the tender kind of way that made me feel exposed and vulnerable, as if my real feelings for him couldn’t stay hidden even though they should have. Teo’s eyes widened. We stared at each other.
“See you Friday?” he asked hesitantly, as if I’d somehow changed my mind while we talked.
“Absolutely. Just let me know where to meet you. I’m looking forward to it.”
And I was. Not only could I not wait to see Teo again, but the idea of claiming him in front of Chris, even if it wasn’t real, was selfishly exciting.
I counted down the hours.
17
Teo
My hands were sweating. Come to think of it, so was my back. And under my arms, and probably… there he was. I stood outside the Wrigley Field gate beside Chris and a couple of other guys from work when I spotted Jack making his way toward us through the crowd.
“I can’t believe you invited the company pilot,” Chris muttered, not for the first time.
“He doesn’t work for Banks,” I reminded him under my breath. “He works for Douglas Aviation.”
