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“Yeah,” he rasps. “Too bad.” And for the first time, Caleb eyes me up and down, getting a long and slow look at me. Fuck, I wish my shirt was off like his.
Licking my lips, I let him pursue me with his eyes. Get a good look, baby. This could all be yours.
Damn, where did that come from?
Do I want to be his? Shit, I think I definitely want him to be mine, and I’m a fair kind of man. If Caleb is mine, I’ll damn sure be his.
“If you’re ever in the mood for some rule-breaking, come and find me,” I suggest brazenly. “We could have fun.”
“Fun?” he echoes.
So. Much. Fun.
Flashing him an eager grin, I nod. “You have no idea.”
His throat bobs and I wish I could catch his Adam’s apple between my teeth. I wonder if he likes it rough, he looks like he could handle rough.
Would Caleb bottom? He’s radiating some pretty serious grumpy top energy, but you never really know for sure. I’ve almost always topped but I would let Caleb fuck me if he asked—as long as he knew who was in charge. Being dominant is what gets my blood pumping, so it would be pretty difficult to switch in that regard.
“I have to go,” he says suddenly, probably overwhelmed by my bold offer.
Wanting to make sure I haven’t come on too strong, I clear my throat. “Tell me to piss off if I annoy you too much.”
There’s that stunned expression again. “What?”
“I’m going to flirt with you, so I’m giving you a fair warning,” I tell him seriously. “Tell me to stop if you hate it, and I will.”
“I…”
“Caleb! I need a hand with this!” someone calls out, interrupting whatever he was trying to say.
Smiling, I offer him a quick wave. “See you around, Caleb.”
Taking the pressure off of him, I walk away first. Erin and Abel are grilling on their deck and I’m supposed to be meeting them for dinner in a few minutes—well, I might actually be late now.
So worth it.
Chapter 4
Caleb
What the fuck was that?
Elias Masondo, the thirty-five-year-old billionaire business mogul stunner just hit on me. Me.
I think I’ve been out in the sun for too long without a hat today because heat stroke feels like a proper explanation for the brazen flirting I just witnessed. Maybe I was hallucinating it. I mean, what the fuck else could be responsible for it? Surely Elias isn’t actually interested in me. He’s a million miles out of my league.
Not only is he naturally gorgeous, but everyone loves him. He’s the sweetheart of the business world, according to public opinion, and he’s even better looking in person. Tall, muscular but still slim, soft brown eyes, a strong and full hairline… I could go on for hours.
Top it all off with a trimmed beard and killer smile, he’s a ten out of ten. Being outwardly nice and well-off financially are just the cherries on top. He’d still have caught my eye if he was just a regular guy like me, but he’s not.
Elias is far from normal, he’s picturesque—too damn good to be true. And that’s why I’m going to assume his gawking at me and his bold words are the product of one too many cocktails before dinner.
I’d be stupid to think it means anything else.
“What’d he want?” Tyler asks, fumbling with a weed whacker. The kid can do just about anything we throw at him but changing the strings on these things trips him up every time.
“He’s chatty,” I grunt, dismissing the idea that our conversation was anything more than friendly. Tyler is a good worker and a decent guy, but he’s a gossip.
