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And there it was. How Sean affected him. He took away Max’s rationale. Made him incapable of thinking straight. And that was absolutely unacceptable. An utter violation of Max’s control.
He could feel Sean’s eyes burning a hole in his jeans. Fuck. Max loved that sensation way too much. Scrubbing his face, he muttered a curse, scrawled out a check and turned around. His gaze met Sean’s as Sean sat atop the table, his beautiful body decadently exposed. Max imagined how it’d look after a nice healthy flogging. Ah, God. Way too good. Max pursed his lips and stalked over.
Sean visibly tensed, but not necessarily from apprehension, even though Max knew he was being glacial. But for some fucked up reason, Sean didn’t seem to care. The kid just squared his shoulders and smiled. Max’s arctic wall instantly began melting.
Oh, for the love.
He dragged his cool gaze over Sean’s stance, making sure everything was in line. Max stilled. Narrowed his eyes. Sean’s body looked suspiciously out of whack, like he was sitting that way on purpose. His gaze rose to Sean’s. Sean lifted a brow and grinned.
Max pursed his lips. “Back straight, Sean. Behave.”
Frustration flittered briefly across Sean’s face. But he did as told, then looked at Max expectantly. Max exhaled and stepped closer. Lifted his hands. Opened his mouth to ask for permi—
“Yes, please.” Sean’s smile was back. And they both knew what he was consenting to. Max’s touch, most likely anywhere he wanted it.
Max slid his hands down both sides of Sean’s jaw, sinking his fingers into Sean’s hair.
“Smell like smoke again,” he muttered quietly.
“How ‘bout you help me quit.”
Max’s brows furrowed. “What?”
Sean smiled. “Help me quit. Help me keep my lips busy elsewhere.”
Well, that answered Max’s question. Sean was definitely still in flirt mode.
His eyes dropped to Sean’s mouth before he could stop them. God, all the ways he could busy those lips. Starting with his dick. Because he definitely wasn’t going to kiss the guy. He only did that with clients during scenes, and even then, it was a rare occurrence.
Max’s cock nudged him eagerly. His heart thumped a little faster.
“You wouldn’t like the way I’d keep your mouth busy.”
Sean chuckled. “I’m pretty fucking sure that I would.”
Max’s lips curved. He couldn’t stop them. Sean was just too much. But unfortunately, Max had a job to do.
He turned Sean’s head just so to the left. “Stop propositioning your employer, Sean. That’s so unprofessional.”
Sean grinned but relented. “You can dock my pay.”
Max would rather put him over his knee.
Content with Sean’s pose, Max retreated to his sculpture, anxious to get the final details finished. He had to admit, the sculpture looked sweet. The perfect replication of Sean’s body. And considering how incredible Sean’s physique was, that meant Max’s piece was just as phenomenal. Such fluid lines. Such sensual curves. He’d even captured Sean’s alluring expression. Subdued hunger. Reluctant patience. Unrequited, underlying need.
Max cupped its face, ran his thumbs along its cheekbones. He’d been channeling the energy of all his unbidden emotions into the best piece he’d ever sculpted. It exuded his passion just as much as Sean’s. An unseen force somehow still seen. Max loved that, that his sculpture was an extension of them both. A powerful sense of gratitude washed over him. Toward Sean, and what he’d enabled Max to create.
His eyes rose to the young man propped motionless before him. And then his hands went to work on finishing touches. Which pretty much took up the rest of their hour, with one small break in the middle.
Content as he’d ever be as a perfectionist, Max stepped back from the sculpture… and smiled. A little. “It’s done, Sean. We’re finished.”
Sean’s shoulders instantly eased. And then his head was turning Max’s way, his dark blue eyes locking on Max’s masterpiece. “Can I see?” he asked, sliding his legs over the edge.
Max crossed his arms. Gave a nod. “Of course.”
Sean padded over in his tiny bikini briefs. Max kept his eyes on anything but.
“Wow,” Sean murmured. “That’s… Damn, Max. I’m speechless.”
Until now, Max had never really given Sean a chance to look at it. Always had it covered when Sean first came in, and at the end, always ushered Sean swiftly to the door. Would he see all the details Max had worked on for hours, long into the night after Sean left? His countless super-thin wisps of hair. The small, subtle reflection in his eyes. That tiny little scar on the right side of his jaw. The exact fucking length of his nails. Maybe, maybe not. Although, Max was fairly confident Sean would notice how Max improvised on his junk. Fuck it. He hadn’t wanted Sean to pose naked. To feel any more uncomfortable than necessary. Besides, Max had long since memorized every inch of him back when Sean modeled for his class. Because his body was just that memorable. A true fucking rarity. And soon it’d be gleaming in bronze. Which meant, in Max’s book, that Sean had earned the right to have a good look at it now. He’d also earned that paycheck Max had promised him.
