Kenneth devoured his plate of grilled shrimp and jerk chicken. The chef had made it non-spicy for him, just marinating it in the native spices so it would be gentle for his stomach. Alan had warned him several times to slow down and take it easy, but it had all smelled far too good to take baby steps.
He watched Alan a few times as they ate in silence. It was hard to not sneak a peek at him once in a while. He’d first looked at him as being some hot-show designer who was the know-all, end-all to the fashion world, and for all intents and purposes, that was the case.
The real surprise had been that he hadn’t expected Alan to be such a pompous ass. Even the things his former assistant, Katie, had said were more than shocking. He’d worked for a few jack wagons in his day. He’d worked for starlets who thought the sun rose and shined with them, and he’d also worked for CEOs of major Fortune 500 companies who had more quirks and oddities than even the strangest of ducks.
Alan Hamilton, though, he was a paradox and someone that Kenneth just couldn’t figure out. He could go from arrogant and obnoxious to kind and sensitive within the flash of a second. And for the life of him, Kenneth couldn’t seem to figure out any rhyme or reason as to why Alan was like that.
Had Katie really been bat-shit crazy and exaggerated everything she’d said about Alan? Or was Kenneth really that sick and this was all some sort of a dream? Hell, Alan had gotten up to get him a water when he ran out of juice. If he didn’t know better, Kenneth would almost swear that he was the boss and Alan his servant.
The whole situation was just…odd. And the more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t stop pondering it. Then there was that other pesky little situation. The small matter of Alan’s impromptu skinny-dip in the pool earlier. He tried to remind himself that he had been asleep as far as Alan knew. He tried desperately to convince himself that Alan hadn’t done it in some desperate attempt to make some sort of a play for him after saying he had that certain “look” that he’d been after.
Katie had pegged Alan as a man-whore. Maybe he looked at Kenneth as one of his newer conquests that he’d yet to conquer. Kenneth hoped not because he really wanted this job to work out. It was made clear to him from the beginning that he wasn’t going to be able to show his sketches or get any career advice, but still it was nice having the experience under his belt. That was the only real reason he’d decided to stay on after his first meeting with Mister Arrogance.
“You doing okay?” Alan asked. “You’ve been kind of quiet. Is it your stomach?”
“Huh? Oh no. Sorry, I’m fine. I was just thinking. It’s weird. I kind of feel like I lost a day or something.”
“Well, you were pretty out of it last night. You kept mumbling things about lapels and wingtips.”
Kenneth tried to act surprised, though if he’d been talking about those things, he must have been delirious with design ideas. He hoped he hadn’t let anything slip by and let on that he was one of those dreaded people who were looking to get into fashion, those annoying types that Alan tried to avoid with a ten-foot pole.
“Yeah. It might have been kind of funny if I wasn’t so worried about you.”
“About that…” Kenneth tried to find the right words to thank his boss for stripping off his clothes and cleaning off his vomit. He was almost positive that Hallmark didn’t make a card for such an occasion, so he was going to have to go it alone and think on the fly.
“Well, I just wanted to thank you. I mean it’s not really in our employment contract for you to clean up my puke, or give me a shower for that matter.”
“I couldn’t just leave you like that.”
“Some people would have.”
“Some people? Or arrogant jackasses?” Alan asked.
“Sorry.” Alan shook his head and looked out at the mid-morning waves crashing against their sandy beach. “I was just thinking about some things that Katie said to me.”
“Hey, it was her last day of work. Everyone has fantasies of telling off their boss before they walk out.”
“Maybe.” Alan stood up from the table and walked over to the window.
Kenneth watched while the wind blew Alan’s long bangs out of his face as it swept against his head. There was something new about him. Maybe it was the change in scenery. Being in Jamaica could make anyone seem brighter, couldn’t it?
He knew he shouldn’t be thinking the things that he was, but his boss looked almost attractive to him. Not that he was a bad-looking guy. He was anything but. There were plenty of men who would happily bed the hot fashion designer.
Get it together, Kenneth, he chided himself. That small glance at Alan’s anything-but-small penis earlier had certainly piqued Kenneth’s interest, and something more.
This was wrong. In every sense of the word it was wrong. This was his boss. His employer. The one he was paid to work for and nothing else.
“What do you want?” Kenneth asked, without turning.
The one word spoken in a low and hungry voice was enough for Kenneth to face him. He turned his head and looked at Alan. His eyes looked red and swollen. His expression looked confused and tortured. There was something else there though, something that hadn’t been there before. And Kenneth could read it loud and clear, just as sure as if he’d seen it plastered on a billboard in Times Square.
Alan wasn’t going to run this time. He was making his declaration and coming here to take what he wanted. No more games, no more running. This was it. This was what they both wanted.
“Are you sure this time? Because if I let you in, I’m going to make you stay.” Kenneth hoped Alan could see the promise in his eyes. He needed him to know just how serious he was.
“I’m sure.” Alan stepped into the room and came toward him.
He stepped in between Kenneth’s thighs, placed his hands on either of his knees, and slowly slid to the floor until he was kneeling before him.
“You’re sure? I’m not kidding this time, Alan. If I let you stay. You’ll be staying for good.”
Alan didn’t reply with words. He only nodded while trailing his fingertips along the crotch of Kenneth’s shorts.
Kenneth hissed out a breath. The tease of his fingers grazing against his cock felt so good. He wanted more. Reaching out, Kenneth tugged at the Alan’s shirt and pulled it over his head.
He stared at the small chest hairs that sprinkled his perfectly tan chest. They were fresh stubbles, telling Kenneth that Alan either waxed or shaved. It was a habit Kenneth would try to break him of. He liked hair on a man’s chest. He didn’t need the smooth, perfect bodies that graced magazine covers. All he needed was a man. A real man. Not an artificial substitute.
Next Kenneth pulled his own shirt over his head, exposing his hair-sprinkled chest, which led a trail right down to his shorts. That was where he wanted Alan to explore. With his fingers, his hands, his mouth. Kenneth wanted it all. And when he was done with that, he’d take it all over again.
Alan mumbled something so quietly Kenneth couldn’t even hear him.
“Don’t do that,” Kenneth said, tilting his chin up so their eyes met. “Talk to me. Tell me what you want.”
“You.” Alan looked down and rubbed at the outline of Kenneth’s growing cock.
Kenneth was beginning to leak as his shaft hardened and grew thicker in his shorts. At this point he didn’t care what they did, as long as it was something. He just needed some relief for this itch that hadn’t been scratched in far too long.
Kenneth cupped his face with his hands and pulled him in close. Crushing their lips together he swept his tongue inside, tasting Alan’s true passion for the first time. There was no hesitance or uncertainty this time. The fear was even gone. All that remained was their lust for one another.
After several minutes, Kenneth pulled away breathlessly. “How do you want me? Tell me.”
“You can’t? Or you won’t?”
“No.” Kenneth shook his head. “I don’t want this, Alan. I want the real you. The one who knows what he wants and takes it. Show me, damn it. If you want me, then prove it.”
He was being forceful, pushing Alan perhaps too far, but damn it, he didn’t want the passive Alan. He knew there was another side to him, the real side that he was afraid to share with Kenneth. If they were going to be together, he would accept nothing less.
“Why are you pushing me?” Alan questioned him.
“Because I don’t want your shyness. I want your passion. You say you want me then prove it. Show me how badly you do.”
“Just like that?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Kenneth pointed out.
“Fine!” Alan pushed Kenneth back on the bed and began tugging at the waistband of his shorts.
This was what he meant. The animal in Alan that Kenneth knew existed. He needed that part of him.
He lifted his ass off of the bed to help Alan remove his shorts. In a matter of seconds they were on the floor, and Kenneth felt the first heavenly glide of Alan’s tongue stroke against the underside of his cock.
“Oh fuck!” Kenneth leaned back against the mattress and clutched the sheets.
Alan’s hot mouth enveloped him, taking his cock deep into his hot, wet cavern. His lips worked Kenneth’s length so expertly while his hand pumped him up and down. Alan’s other hand massaged Kenneth’s ball sac, further increasing the torture he was inflicting.
Kenneth was in the best type of agony. If felt so damn good. Alan’s mouth was just the right kind of hot. His tongue licked him like the flames of a devil. Every nerve ending in his body hummed with blissful promise of what would come sooner rather than later.
Alan inhaled a deep breath through his nose while continuing to lave Kenneth’s cock with kisses and licks. For several pleasure-filled minutes, Alan continued the sweet torture of his mouth, sucking Kenneth off until he was sure he was going to die from the intensity of it all.