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I noticed a trail of some sort of liquid running from his neck, down his Adam’s apple, and onto his chest. I realized that I very easily could have looked at his body like that forever—the planes of his muscles, the definition of his bare pecs, even just the sheer strength visible in his forearms.
I looked away.
“Seems like I should have brought Jello shots instead,” I told him, looking all around the party. “Not sure if a guy like me really belongs here.”
Kace cocked his head to one said, giving me that relaxed, confident look that he was so good at.
“You belong here because I want you here.” He glanced down at my lips, just for a brief moment. “Come on. Let’s open this wine. You want a glass?”
My cock stirred under my jeans. It must have been some mixture of misplaced excitement at having someone like him say that theywantedme anywhere, but either way, I ignored my very confused dick and tried to pull myself together.
“For this party I’m going to need something stronger,” I finally said. “Let’s go with a whiskey sour.”
“Myman,” he said, giving me a pat on the back. “A man after my own heart.”
I cleared my throat. “I saw you making those sours the other day on your, uh, Instagram profile,” I said. “They looked pretty good.”
“Oh, you watched my livestream?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. “That was a fun one.”
The fact that he seemed genuinely thankful that I’d been watching his content, even when thousands and thousands of other people had been tuned in, gave me some small piece of satisfaction. Maybe this was just how Kace treated everyone, but it definitely made me feel special.
I nodded once. “You’re good in front of a camera.”
We arrived at the bar adjacent to his kitchen. It was lavish just like the rest of his house, with any liquor under the sun available. There was a hired bartender behind the bar ready to make anyone drinks, but Kace reached behind for a whiskey bottle himself, grabbing a glass and making me a drink.
“I thought you weren’t going to make it tonight,” he told me as he grabbed the sour mix.
I scratched the back of my neck. “I got your text,” I started, “but I had a bunch of invoices to review back at the office. And then I dropped my daughter off at her friend’s house for the night. They’re watching some popular new Japanese show, where they all live in a house together. And then I actually had to make a stop at my accountant’s office, and—fuck, why am I telling you the mostboringstory on Earth right now?”
“I like hearing about your real life,” he told me. “I do boring things too, sometimes.”
“Yeah, but it seems like you’re usually shirtless when you do them.”
He snorted. “Guilty as charged, bro.”
Bro.
If anyone else called me that, I’d have rolled my eyes. But somehow Kace got a pass, for just about anything he did.
He leaned past me to reach the fresh lemons at the other side of the bar and I caught a whiff of his hair. He smelled good—clean and fresh, but also musky in an inviting way. Probably expensive body wash or shampoo or both. If his bar was this lavish, I couldn’t even imagine what his shower must look like.
He glanced over at me after reaching for the lemons, a flash of radiant blue from under his thick lashes.
My cock perked up again instantly. Something wasoffwith me. Had been since the moment I’d met him. Apparently my brain really was confusing “famous” for “fuckable,” or something, and now even a glance from Kace could do something to me.
“Calling me bro again?” I asked, trying to bury the riot of confusion inside me. I wasn’t even mad that he’d called me that, but something in me wanted to challenge him, especially when he was making my body feel like an overloaded power grid.
But I still felt like his blue gaze had me in a chokehold.
“I apologize,sir, yes, sir, Mr. Wood, your majesty,” he teased. He gave me one of those dimpled half-smiles, laced with mischief. The kind that looked like he was searching me to see if he’d gone too far with a joke, still managing to make every fucking moment sexy and playful.
And I didn’t know what todowith “sexy” and “playful” when they were from a man.
He handed me my drink, and I took the cold glass in my hand.
“You really don’t have an off button, do you?” I said to him, my voice low.
“No one’s found one yet, but you’re welcome to try.”
