This wasn’t about clothes, or a concert.
It was about him seeing what I had already seen from the beginning—and realising it had been there all along.
I felt the pull of the moment, the awareness of him, of how close he was, of how naturally he fit into my space now.
“Doyoulike how I look?” His question was almost hesitant.
“Let me show you how much I like it.” I went over to him, took his hand in mine, and brought it to my crotch.
His breathing hitched, and then he grinned.
I narrowed my gaze. “And before you get any ideas, we have a concert to go to.”
He laughed, his eyes bright. “Hey,youstarted this.”
“And I’m finishing it, right here, before you begin taking off all that leather you’ve just poured yourself into.”
“Spoilsport.” He frowned. “Can I walk in this? Or sit down?” He moved experimentally. “It creaks.”
I chuckled. “The pews will make a lot more noise than you do.”
He peered at his reflection again. “I’m not sure what to expect.”
I couldn’t help myself.
I wrapped my arms around him and brought my lips to his ear. “It’s a very genteel event, and the performers will be amazing. There’ll be a glass or two of Prosecco beforehand and during the interval…” I stared at him in the mirror. “And everyone there will be wondering who is the gorgeous bear on my arm.”
His breath caught in his throat, and my own tightened.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” I murmured. Then I slid my hand lower to cup the bulge in his leather jeans. “But I knowexactlywhat I’d like to do to you.”
Being on time was never my strong suit.
Kieran
The church was about a ten-minute walk from Stefan’s apartment, and ahead of us, I spied a lot of men in leather, all walking in the same direction.
“Will everyone be in leather? And will everyone be male?”
“I’ve seen women before now, usually three or four of them. And there might be a few people not in leather.” He took my hand in his. “You look stunning.”
I glanced at our laced fingers. “Thanks. I needed that.”
“The compliment or my hand?”
I smiled. “Both?”
“Get used to the former—you’ll be on the receiving end of a lot of those before the night is over. And my hand is yours, anytime you want it. You only have to reach for it.”
His words settled on me, as comfortable as a soft blanket.
In front of the church, a crowd had gathered, and cigar smoke drifted on the evening breeze. I sniffed the air appreciatively.
“Do you smoke?” Stefan asked.
I shook my head. “I like the aroma, though.”
He led me towards the wide wooden doors. “The benefits of having VIP tickets is that you get to queue jump,” he said with a smile.