I groaned. “Can we start after Ainsley returns home?” I pleaded. “By the way, where is he?”
“Still sleeping.".
“All this time?” I asked on a frown. “Are you sure he’s okay?”
“He only said he was tired. Why don’t you wake him and see? I didn’t want to disturb him. He looked tuckered out after that phone call he received.”
I wanted to ask what phone call, but Mama wouldn’t have known that. I wondered who Ainsley could have been talking to that left him drained? His agent? A family member? Or his ex? He had mentioned they had been engaged so he must have cared about the guy. Did he still love his ex?
“I’ll go check on him,” I mentioned.
“Dinner will be served once your sister and Aiden gets here,” she stated. “That should be in the next thirty minutes or so. If Ainsley is feeling well, have him join us.”
“Okay.”
I walked out of the kitchen but not before hearing a heated discussion behind my back between my parents. Although curious as to what they were arguing over, because they rarely ever argued, I was worried about Ainsley. The flight from NYC to Birmingham was at max two and a half hours. He could hardly be that jet-lagged.
I jogged up the stairs to my bedroom and knocked softly on the closed door. When I didn’t receive a response, I cracked the door open. “Ainsley?” No response.
Not wanting to startle him out of sleep, I slipped into the room quietly and closed the door behind me. Seeing him in bed on top of the covers, I sighed in relief. I had almost freaked out when Mama said he left. I didn’t want him to go. Not yet. Not when I was just getting to know him.
“Ainsley,” I called his name softly as I approached the bed and halted. Lust stirring in my blood, I stared at the young man sleeping in my bed, wearing one of my old college sweaters. Although it would have been long on his frame, the sweater had ridden up his firm slender thighs.
Beneath, he wore nothing but tighty-whities. I forgot my intention to stay away from him.
Chapter Eight
Ainsley
I couldn’t say exactly what woke me up, but I stirred, stretching my languid limbs. I reached for my multitude of pillows but encountered air. Frowning, I blinked my eyes opened and stared in confusion at the odd room. This was not my bedroom in NYC.
Before my sleep-induced brain could remember where I was, a movement to the left caught my attention. I turned, and at the sight of Willy, the memories returned. Meeting him at the airport, having lunch with him and deciding to be his fake boyfriend, being ambushed by his mother then missing him so much that I’d decided to take a nap. The long fashion show in Paris and hopping on a plane so soon to travel to Alabama, must have caught up with me. I felt like I had been sleeping for hours.
“You’re awake,” Willy remarked. “Are you okay?”
I frowned at him, still feeling quite groggy. “I think so. What time is it? I must have dozed off.”
“Dozed off? You’ve been sleeping since I called and that was a couple hours ago.”
“You called?” My heart skipped a beat at his admission. I had sat around for a while, hoping he would, but when he hadn’t, I had admitted that maybe I was the only one who felt the weird attraction between us.
“Yeah, I called to check up on you,” he admitted. “Mama said you were sleeping.”
I sat up in bed, shuffling over to the edge and patted the area beside me for him to sit. He hesitated a bit. He probably didn’t think I noticed it, but by the way his tongue peeked out at the corner of his mouth, it was plain as day to me that he wasn’t sure if he should sit so close to me. In the end, he moved but didn’t sit exactly beside me. He left enough space between us so we didn’t have to touch. I was disappointed by his action even though I didn't want to be.
Feeling a yawn coming on, I covered my mouth. The yawn ended on a half-moan as I rotated my shoulders. I felt stiff from the unfamiliar bed. When he didn’t say anything, I glanced sideways to find him watching me.
“Sorry I fell asleep,” I said, a little nervous at the way he was eying me. All the feels that knotted my stomach were new to me. Well, not completely new. I’d felt something sorta like this before when I’d fallen for Joey back in high school. Except this time was different. I wasn’t a clueless fat kid anymore desperate for attention. Even though at times my inner fat kid still reared its head and fed my insecurities.
“It’s okay. You were obviously tired.”
I groaned. “Yeah, that show in Paris was no joke. People think all we do is just walk up and down a stage, but there’s a whole lot that goes on behind the scenes.” I flopped onto my back on the bed with my legs dangling over the edge. It was only then I remembered that I had borrowed his sweater from his drawer. I hadn’t meant to dig, but when I’d opened a drawer to store some of my stuff for the short time because I hated living out of a suitcase, I’d spotted the comfy sweater. I hadn’t been able to resist it.
“I still can’t believe you’re a model,” he remarked eying me. “Well, I can see it, but I’ve never known a model before. So, are you like famous?”
“I’ve been at it for a year. I’m no Gigi Hadid. That’s for sure.”
“Right. You’re hotter. And you definitely have a cuter ass.”
There was no sense in fighting my grin. Being with him and talking to him left me with all sorts of fuzzies inside. I was intrigued by it. I had come across a lot of famous people during the year of my modeling career, but none had ever made me feel quite the way Willy did. It was this raw elemental feeling that I had no control over, and he apparently felt it too.
“You think I’m hot?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” he asked in a noncommittal response. “Do you have photos of you modeling? I would like to see.”
I turned on my side with my head propped on my arm to peer up at him. “Are you being sincere or are you going to make fun of me?”
“Scout’s honor.” He winked at me. “And unlike you, I was a boy scout.”
“Of course, you were,” I answered sarcastically. “Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes.”
I sat up in bed and got to my feet, tugging down his sweater because I didn’t have on anything beneath except for my underwear. The carpet was warm beneath my feet, and I dug my toes into the fiber as I shuffled to his dresser where my phone was.
“I’m not a Goody-Two-Shoes,” he argued behind me.
Without looking at him, I unlocked my phone and walked over to him. “Of course, you are. I’ve known you less than a day, and it was clear almost from the beginning that you’re a genuinely nice guy. I think it’s fate that we met. Don’t you?”
I peeked at him to find him scowling at me. Now that I was fully awake, I was back to my old self, and I liked teasing him.
“It was a coincidence, and I’m not nice!”
“Yup. You’re a nice guy because your parents are nice, and they raised you right. It’s because you’re nice why I can do this.”
I plopped my ass into his lap, my back to his chest and ground into the crotch of his pants. I wasn’t naïve. I knew what the hell I was doing. I was partly playing with him because he made it so fun. And I was also trying to get a rise out of him. Literally.
“Fuck, Ainsley, what are you doing?” His voice came out as a squeak. “You can’t just do that.”
“Uh yeah, I can. You’re supposed to be my boyfriend, remember?” I tapped the album on my phone of the recent photo shoot in Paris and passed the phone to him. “You can see me strut my stuff in these photos.”
His arms went around me to take the phone. I squirmed in his lap and he squeezed my thigh with his left hand. “Be still. I’m not made out of wood.”
Feeling his budding erection against my ass, I tilted my head to grin at him. “I think you are.”
“Shush. Let me check you out. I like you better in these photos, when your lips aren’t moving.”
“You’d like my lips moving. Trust me. And not just my lips, but my tongue and—�
��
Willy clamped his left hand over my mouth and pulled me back to lean against the solid wall of his chest. I didn’t wrestle but settled against him as he started scrolling through the pictures. It felt cozy in his arms like this. He didn’t say anything as he flipped from one picture to the other. At times, he would pause to get a better feel for a picture before moving on. I waited with bated breath, his hand still over my mouth as I wondered if I had been too hasty in showing him the pictures. They were certainly different. In some, I was wearing wigs, revealing attire, avant-garde pieces, and all while strutting in heels.
“You’ve got tattoos,” he murmured pausing at a photo which showed my entire bare back and the tattoo of the poison ivy running down my spine.
“And piercings,” I replied. “I don’t usually wear them on the runway though. Nothing to distract from the fashion pieces.”
“May I see?” he asked.
“My piercings?” I froze at the idea of showing him my twin dydoe piercings. They were at such a private part of my anatomy. Not that I hadn’t shown it to people who were curious before, but none of them had ever had me play their pretend boyfriend. A pretend boyfriend I was liking just a little too much.
“I’ll see those some other time. I’m talking your tat.”
“Oh sure. Just lift my shirt.”
He grasped the hem of the sweater and lifted all the way to my neck. “Wow.” He trailed fingertips up my spine that had me squirming in his lap.
“You like it?”
“It looks hot,” he admitted. “It makes me want to…”
He trailed off, but I would have none of it. “Want to what?”
In answer, his lips trailed ever so softly, brushing lightly up my spine in sweet kisses. My eyes closed as I savored the moment.
“Is this a part of the boyfriend pretense?” I asked on a gasp. I had to know where Willy’s head was.
“Is anyone around?” he asked.
I shook my head and shivered at his tongue licking at each vertebra. “No, nobody else.”
“Then you have your answer.”
Without warning, Willy stood with me still in his lap. He turned me around to face him, and I clutched at his shoulders, wrapping my legs around his waist. I sucked in a deep breath as our eyes bore into each other’s.
“For the record, I can be very naughty,” he said in a voice so low I almost didn’t hear. “I’m not always nice.”
And because I didn’t have any sense of self-preservation I added. “Prove it.”
His hands tightened beneath my ass. “Ainsley, you know you aren’t required to do this as a part of our bargain, right?”
I smiled at him. “Told ya. You’ve a bad case of Nice Guy Syndrome. I’m here trying to get a little action from you, and you’re giving me umph!”
The rest of my words were swallowed on Willy’s lips covering mine. I was too stunned at first to react, but then his tongue slid between my lips, and I melted against him. He felt damn good against me. That was for sure. A shiver ran through my body as his tongue plunged between my lips and stroked mine. I moaned, clinging tighter to him, fingers digging into his shirt as he explored my mouth. My cock swelled and hardened against his tummy. I wished he would pull down my briefs and fuck me like this. The intense need curled up into my belly and made me desperate.
“Willy!” I cried, tearing my lips from him.
Breathing hard, he rested his forehead against mine. His breath warmed my cheeks, his chest rising and falling hard. “I’m doing everything in my power not to take you over to the bed and fuck you right now. This wasn’t a part of the deal.”
My cock twitched in delight. “I know,” I breathed, the need in my voice thick. “But I don’t care. Do you?”
His eyes turned troubled, dousing frostiness on the heat that had enveloped us. He released his hands from my ass, until the only thing keeping me linked to him were my legs still wrapped around his waist, and my hands clutching his arms. I wasn’t ready to let go yet. Just now, everything had been magical.
“We need more time to talk about this,” he replied. “We’ll talk later about this thing between us, but if I’m not mistaken, my sister’s car just pulled up. You need to get dressed for dinner.”
Disappointed, I unlatched my legs and allowed my body to slide down his. The second I stepped away from him, I felt a sense of loss.
“Go on then.” I shooed him with my hands. “I’ll get dressed and join everyone in a few.”
When he stood there just looking at me as if undecided, I grasped the hem of his sweater and raised it above my head. Clad only in my white briefs, I tossed his shirt onto the bed and ran my fingers through my hair which was now mostly a mess. Willy took a step toward me, but then he thought better of it and backed up.
“Right. I’ll see you downstairs.”
He was out of the bedroom before I could say anything else. With a sigh, I caught my appearance in the mirror on his dresser. I always thought I had a nice body, but what if he thought I was too slender for him? I’d been surprised how well I shed all the body fat from my adolescence. That year after sucking off Joey in the janitor’s closet, I’d worked hard on losing the weight. Surprisingly enough, after a while, my body seemed to have caught up to speed, and I just started shedding all the baby fat.
I groaned and reached for the dresser where I had packed away my things. I was looking forward to dinner just so I could get over it and talk to Willy about this thing growing between us. I couldn’t believe it was still less than a day since I knew him.
Chapter Nine
Will
Ainsley fit right in with my family. Throughout dinner, I barely contributed to the conversation around me, and it was hardly necessary. Ainsley was the center of attention. He couldn’t help but be. Even my sister was quite taken with him. I’d briefly reminded her to be kind when I hugged her before Ainsley joined us. At first, I had been worried she would have let the cat out of the bag, but she went along with it. Even better than me.
The kiss I had shared with Ainsley left me unsettled. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, and if his eyes collided with mine, as happened several times around the dinner table, I tried not to show how much I wanted to continue where we had left off upstairs. The attraction between us was crazy. Luke and I had been friends for a while before we got into a relationship. I wasn’t used to the head over heels nature of my preoccupation with Ainsley. Not that I thought I was in love with him or anything. It was too soon for that, but the attraction between us was nothing like I’d felt before. It just felt right.
I was as enthralled with Ainsley’s stories as was everyone else. He told us about his fashion shows, life in NYC, and how it took him a while to adjust after he left Alabama. He cracked us up with his sweet stories and even my Dad managed a few laughs.
Mama went all out with dinner as usual. She made a bigger deal about it because Ainsley was staying with us. The table was laden with food we couldn’t all possibly eat. Ainsley did eat a bit of everything but moaned about his agent giving him a hard time about his weight if he gained even a pound.
“I’ll come over tomorrow morning before the clinic, and we can go for a walk or a run,” I told him. Anything to spend more time with him, and seeing him before I went off for work would be ideal to get me through the day until I could see him again.
“I’d love that,” he replied, giving me the sweetest smile. God, I loved when he smiled at me and watching those dimples at work.
He ended up showing the others his pictures in Paris, and I caught from his tone that his Paris show had been a big deal for him. He was proud of being included in that show. He explained how his agent was already booking him for the upcoming year to be at shows, offers he had received after doing the Paris show.
“Wow. How did you end up so lucky?” Dad asked me as he stared at Ainsley’s photos. “Your boyfriend’s famous.”
“Not exactly famous,” Ainsley chuckled, reaching for his glass of red wine.
But someday he will be. He was smart as a whip, and his whole aura suited his profession. Fame would mean Ainsley spending more time traveling across the world. He would forget how much he hated flying, he would meet new people, and new men. New men who could give him the world. The attraction between us aside, I had to face the fact that Ainsley was only here temporarily. When he left, he would forget there was once a guy he called Willy who wanted him in the worst way possible. Maybe someday I would be one of the stories he told to other people. I felt sick thinking about it.
Dinner took longer than I expected because no one was in a rush, and everyone was too content chatting and enjoying the food. I drank more than my share of the wine, ignoring much of the food. And all the while he spoke, it didn’t escape my notice that Ainsley didn’t refer to his childhood any at all. It was as though the defining moment in his life was him becoming a model.
Ainsley’s biggest fan turned out to be my sister’s child, Aiden. Although born a female, at twelve, Aiden was already making his preference known. When he started shunning dresses for jeans and more boyish attire and cutting his hair low, my sister hadn’t batted an eye. She was determined to be supportive and to let Aiden find his way.
Watching Aiden and Ainsley interact, I realized how judgmental I had been of Ainsley at first. I had always accepted Aiden for who he was. It never seemed strange to see him looking more like a boy, but I’d taken one look at Ainsley in his heels and pegged him for a high maintenance drama queen. I felt ashamed at my judgmental thinking.
When it was time to clear the table, my sister refused to have our parents lift a finger. I would do household chores but hated anything to do with the kitchen, so I was pleasantly surprised when Ainsley volunteered to help her clean up.
“Come on, Ainsley,” Wendy said. “Don’t expect Will to help us. He never did his fair share of the kitchen duties even as a kid.”
“Hey, I gave you half of my allowance just for you to do it,” I reminded her. “You weren’t complaining then.”
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