Suited

Eleven

Lucas Alberici's Point of View

I left the Whitacre estate well-fed and sufficiently tuckered out. I'd promised Lawrence a kiss and put it off so I figured, to make it fair, I'd fuck him. Besides, I had to assure him that I did like having sex with him, given the whole "I'm not well fucked" thing. I'd been trying to salvage what was left of my ego at the moment, and he looked so fucking broken after. I was glad to get that handled.

I didn't ask the Chairman for his permission to begin seeing his son that night. Technically, we weren't seeing each other. In two weeks, I'd be his dominant, which was not the same thing. Not to mention, I found that he didn't deserve my respect in that regard at the moment. After spending the day with Lawrence and piecing things together, the Chairman didn't deserve the satisfaction of my asking. Haydn never asked him for Gabriel so I wouldn't ask for Lawrence. When I met with him that night, I simply confirmed that Lawrence was enrolled in his program and would be attending.

When I got upstairs, I glanced into the lustra. I had a week at the minimum before I'd see Lawrence again. I told myself I didn't have to rush—that I shouldn't rush. There was no guarantee that he and I would work out. Haydn and I hadn't worked. Like most good things in my life, my time with Lawrence would come to an end.

Knowing that it would end just made me want more though, so I went downstairs and pulled a double shot of espresso, downing it before heading back to the room, rolled up my sleeves, slapped on some blue tape, and queued up a good film to keep me company.

The first layer didn't take too long, so the second went on to get an even finish. It wasn't too bad. It was actually rather nice. The brownish-red color Lawrence chose was perfect. I'd never wanted a stereotypical "red room" to scene in, but this could work for me, and since he'd chosen it, he'd like it as well. Alas, I couldn't put the furniture back yet. I just cleaned up the bathroom and shut the door behind me when I left. I'd check on it in a couple of days.

Lawrence's contract needed revisions. He was going to live with me. I'd had second thoughts about regular chastity, but he seemed more than willing to embrace it, considering I had the key around my neck and he was across town. I pulled the key out of my shirt and let it dangle. Better. This had been a good idea, as had the cuffs. I made myself as clear as possible that he was off the market. He was slated to be mine. He wouldn't go running off with some girl or chop off his hair or something again. He'd also be too busy tomorrow to see a girl who'd make him chop his hair off anyway. He was accounted for. Spoken for, as well.

Ragazzo: Signore it's too early, I don't think I can do this.

I'd gotten his message the next morning at six and couldn't help but laugh. I was already at work, an hour into my day, caffeinated, exercised, and in a great mood.

Me: You're more than capable, ragazzo. Go shower.

Ragazzo: This would be a lot easier if I could hear your voice.

Call me, per favore?

He had no right to be that cute while I was working. I was glad to be alone in the office.

"Ciao, Signore Alberici," he groaned.

I sat down at my desk. "Good morning. You need to get out of bed."

"But I'm so comfortable right now. Can you just come over and fuck me every night?" In a couple of weeks, I wouldn't have to come over. I smiled at the thought. "I slept so good—Fuck, I'm still loose."

That was a major exaggeration. Still, I teased, "Is that so?"

"Mhmm. If you were here right now, you probably wouldn't even have to stretch me."