16. Perry

"I'm not letting you dress me like some kind of doll."

When he said he wanted me in lace, I didn't think I'd be a fucking mannequin.

"You said I could have you in lace."

Roman arches one perfectly sculpted brow, daring me to say otherwise. Calling me on a damn technicality.

"Next time, I'll be more specific."

"Next time? So sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"Would you just shut up and get this over with?"

I said he could have me in lace. But this is a little too… uncomfortable. Standing half naked in front of the first man who's ever raised my dick to attention for longer than an hour and made me feel things. Big emotional things.

I spilled my guts to him a few days ago when we went to Emerald Lake. It was both freeing and scary as hell to tell him about my nightmares and why I have them. But he shared right back, and I wasn't expecting Roman to open up so much. Especially after all the bitching he gave me just to make sure he had proper boots and a coat.

There's more to Roman than the attractive model-turned-businessman with his nose in the air. Those sexy as fuck corsets aren't the only thing about him that draws me in, and I'd be lying to myself if I didn't admit I want more of him. To see more of what makes him so Roman. One shared kiss, a snuggled sleep, and a day of me showing him a little of our life here isn't enough.

But Roman waits, arms crossed over his chest with his haughty, judgy stare aimed at me. I should hate that look, but I don't. His corset today is black with blue trim and silver roses for buttons. Each one would make a lovely bouquet and that's a rose garden I'd love to spend more time in.

"I'm waiting, Perry. Are you in or not?"

Ah, there's the thorny side of the rose. And yet… I still want to prick my finger.

"Fine. Where do you want me?"

Roman stares at me. His throat bobs and he shifts on his feet. His bare fucking feet when he works with pins and needles. He needs to be more careful and wear shoes.

"Just…next to the mannequin." I do as I'm told, and he shakes his head. "Without clothes. How am I supposed to use you as a model when you're covered up more than a Buddhist monk?" He snaps his fingers. "Naked. Now."

Okay. So here's the thing. I know from Sasha that it's no big deal in the model world. They see each other naked all the time back stage. There's a level of comfort. It's expected that you'll see your co workers naked.

Roman views this as business.

He's not asking me to wear lace for his own enjoyment. He wants a real person to drape fabric on and visualize. That's all. I'm merely a canvas for the artist.

But I'll be standing naked in front of him. If he drops to his knees for measuring or pinning or whatever the hell clothing designers do, I can't be responsible for my actions. Or my body's reactions. It could go either way.

With a huff, I peel off my shirt. Roman smirks, pleased that I'm doing what he asked. God, he's irritating. I'm a man of my word and only following orders because I promised. Not because he snapped his fingers.

I hesitate for a moment at my boxers, but what the fuck, in for a penny, in for a pound, right?

Once the material hits the floor, I kick it to the side and my boxers land on the pile of clothes. Now I'm buck naked next to his mannequin and it's weird. Not just standing next to the fake human form, but what do I do with my hands?

There's a clatter, and Roman grips his cutting table with his head down.

"You okay over there?"

He's the one who asked for me naked. Deal with it, buddy.

Roman mutters to himself and if I didn't know any better, I'd think me standing here in the buff may have rattled him. I hope so because if I'm going to be uncomfortable, so is he.

"Yep. Peachy."

He clears his throat and grabs a measuring tape, walking my way with eyes to the ground.

"I'm ah, I have to measure your hips before I cut the fabric."

Roman's voice is thick and inside I'm pumping my fist in victory.

"Should I raise my arms then?"

I don't wait for him to reply and stretch my arms over my head before resting my hands behind my head. His cool blue eyes stare right at my face as his hands move. The smooth slide of the measuring tape snaps against my skin and he deliberately brushes his hand across my belly as he moves the end of the tape.

"42.5 inches. In case you were wondering."

"I wasn't. But thanks."

He spins and walks back to his table and I lower my arms, still feeling awkward as hell. I mean, who stands around naked for long periods like this? When you take a shower, your hands are washing. You get dressed and your hands are pulling on clothes. You go to bed and your hands are pulling up covers or flipping pages of a book.

Or…

No. I won't stand here with my hand on my dick, even if Roman is into that sort of thing. I side eye the mannequin next to me. Especially not with that thing right next to me. Ever notice how vacant a mannequin's face is? It's creepy.

Roman marches back with a piece of material in his hand and a pincushion in the other.

"Are you hitting on Ken? Don't be offended if he turns you down. Hold this, please."

He hands me the pincushion and before I can respond to his comment, he wraps a piece of fabric around me that pulls an involuntary purr from my throat.

Roman chuckles. "This is quality fabric against the skin, Perry." He plucks a pin from the cushion and licks his lips. "You like it?"

"What is it? It doesn't feel like lace."

"It's not." He leaves me there with his pins and walks back to his table. "This is lace." He holds up the very dainty fabric for me to inspect. "See the little flowers and the flecks of the gold in there? This stuff is $250 a meter and is some of the finest lace on the planet. But even fine lace you want to protect." He plucks a pin from the cushion and secures the lace to the other material draped across my groin.

"At that price, I'd expect it to come with a bodyguard."

"You don't strike me as someone tight in the wallet, Perry. You know quality comes at a cost."

I'm sure the way he's smoothing the material and dusting his fingers over my package is just him looking to get a rise out of me. In a few more minutes, something will definitely rise and it's not my fault.

"Of course. Sometimes the cost isn't monetary, though."

Sometimes the cost is driving myself insane waiting for the attention of a man who deserves the world on a platter.

"No? What else then?"

His throat clicks and there's a distinct waver in his hand as he reaches for the pincushion. After placing it on the table, he motions for me to turn around. So I do, moving slowing and feeling the slippery fabric slide against my dick. It's excruciating and blissful all at once and when I face forward again, Roman steps closer.

"Take it off and be careful of the pins."

His creamy skin is pinkish, and he bites his lip. Feeling brave, I reach out and grab his hand.

"You'd better help me. I'd hate to fuck something up."

He nods, relief clear. "You're right. Let me help."

His slender fingers, digging into my skin, manage to gently slide the pinned fabric pieces off my hips.

"Do you mind if I…um, I need your…"

He's gonna be all shy now that he's deliberately teased me and has my thickening dick to deal with? Nope. I'm not playing that game.

"Do I mind what, Roman? Is there an issue?" His eyes narrow as I lean forward and whisper next to his ear. "Do you need to touch my dick?"

"Y-yes."

The word is a breathless hiss and I'm here for it.

"I won't stop you."

His smooth hand grips the base of my cock, angling it down so he can shimmy the pinned fabric over it. I deserve a medal for not reacting to his touch. My breathing remains controlled and bonus, found a place to put my hands.

They rest on Roman's hips and I let them rest on his shoulders when he bends slightly. He taps my leg to step out of the garment and all too quickly I'm standing naked next to the mannequin named Ken and staring at Roman's back as he walks away.

He lays the pinned item out on the table and fidgets with scissors and measuring tapes. He's avoiding me. Do I force him to admit he's just as turned as I am right now? Or do I get dressed and leave like the man I desire didn't just see me naked and touch my dick?

I know he's skittish about opening up to people, but he's never been shy about sex from what he's shown me so far. And that hurts. That he'd give his body to these other men on such a casual basis, but shares his deepest fears with me and withhold anything else. Even when I know he likes what he sees.

Just as I'm about to get dressed and bid my goodbye, he drops his head back with a mumbled curse. He spins on one bare foot and marches right up to me. Pupils dilated and neck pink. His plump lips glisten as he places one hand on my chest.

"I should never have asked you to get naked."

I chuckle as he leans closer. His vanilla scent fills my nose, and I inhale deeply. He always smells so damn delicious.

"And why is that?"

"Because I can't unsee you like this."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Yep."

I rear my head back. "What the fuck are you trying to say, Roman? Because once again, I'm a little confused about you."

"It's a bad thing because all I can think about is dropping to my knees right here and wrapping my lips around your cock. How will I get any work done now?"

My heart rate kicks into overtime and again Roman teases me. Drifting his fingertips down my chest, he stops and presses his hand against my stomach.

"I'm fucking offended you're thinking of work while I'm standing here naked with a dick that's been waiting for you this whole time." He bites his lip and I push on his shoulders. "It won't take care of itself, Roman. Put those pretty lips around me so I can come down your throat."

He surprises me and does exactly that. Dropping to his knees, he first peers up at me while he licks along my length and I reach a hand out to steady myself, knocking fake Ken off balance before deciding to curl my fingers in Roman's hair.

He moans so loud my eyes widen and he doesn't wait a minute more. Those plump lips wrap about my cock and it's heaven. He sucks me down like he needs cum to survive and I have to tug on his hair for him to slow down before I shoot my load in record time.

"Suck my balls, gorgeous."

He moans again and buries his nose in my sack before taking one in his talented mouth. My fingers grip tighter in his hair and I'm afraid of ripping his hair out. But he seems to like it a little rough.

I can't stop watching him. The way his lips grow more puffy, the bits of drool leaking out the side of his mouth and the down right feral look in his eyes.

"Take your dick out. Show me how much you like this."

My fingers yank on his hair and he gasps.

"You're a bossy prick."

"You seem to like that."

He stands and unzips his pants to reveal a pair of bright blue briefs with a flower pattern. It only takes me a second to figure it out, and I laugh.

"You matched your underwear to your corset? Are those little roses?"

"Get closer and find out."

He licks his swollen lips and slides a finger along the elastic of his underwear.

He doesn't need to ask me twice. I drop to the floor and lay an open kiss on his cloth-covered dick. "I'd say they're more like carnations."

"So you're a master gardener now?"

"No. Just an observation."

"Observations are usually with your eyes. And quiet. Use your mouth for something else for once."

"You're one to talk." But I don't want to fight and yank his pants and flower underwear down so his cock pops free. It's pretty. Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be? Like the rest of Roman, it's worthy of worship, so that's what I do. Licking up his length while staring up at him, I want him to see how worthy he is of this kind of attention, but he doesn't notice. He throws his head back as he loses himself to my touch.

"Look at me, Roman."

He snaps his head forward and tries to focus on me. And it's only then when I swallow his length. Dammit, he feels good on my tongue and I'm compelled to have him come undone for me. I want it all from him.

"I'm gonna come, Perry. You're…fuck you're good at that," he pants and my chest puffs with pride.

He taps me in warning and I grip his ass, pulling him tighter to me.

"Perry…fuck!"

He unloads in my mouth and I can't keep up, letting what I can't swallow leak out the corners of my mouth. Standing, I press him into the wall and seal my mouth on his before kissing a trail down his neck.

"Finish me off like this, gorgeous."

He spits in his hand and, with a wicked grin, he grips me hard before pushing his hips forward. I want him to be marked by me. My mouth. My cum. Everything.

"I want to spill all over you. Leave a mark." I bite down below his collar bone this time and suck the skin into my mouth. He cries out. So I do it again because I'm in full on beast mode with this man. Unbridled lust. Primal want. I'm so fucking overloaded with it, I can't help it.

My breath stutters, and my orgasm explodes into his hand.

"Fuck…Roman…"

Dropping my head to his shoulder, I try to catch my breath.

He laughs softly.

"Am I too much for you? Can't catch your breath?"

"You will never be too much. More like not enough."

His muscles tense, and he tries to push me away.

"Fuck you for saying that!"

Gripping his chin, I make him focus those eyes on me. We aren't leaving here with a misunderstanding.

"That's not what I meant. I meant having you like this isn't enough. You deserve more, Roman."

"I don't want more," he hisses, but his eyes shift and I don't believe him. "You don't want me like that."

He tries to break free, but I hold him tighter and will him to listen to my words. To know that he's more than a man with a pretty face. That I mean what I say and he's someone I want to be with.

"Don't tell me what I want."

His jaw sets and I step away. The fire to fight flashing in his eyes.

"I'll tell you what you get then. It's this. Quickies when the mood is right. So don't get all moony-eyed and buy me roses." He slips by me to the laundry room and grabs a towel off the floor to clean off his hand.

"I'm going to take a shower."

He's halfway up the stairs before he pauses and throws out. "You looked amazing in that lace, by the way."

Once he's disappeared, I stand there for a few minutes before I set Ken the mannequin right and pat him on the back.

"Ken, I don't know how you work with him all day like that. But good for you. You're a saint. Me…well, I'm willing to play dirty to get what I want." Ken doesn't reply, and that's good, or I'd probably scream like a little girl.

Gathering my clothes in my arms, I head to my room.

I'll let him run for now. But I don't quit until I get what I want.

And Roman will soon find out just how patient I actually am.