Stuff (The Bristol Collection) (34 page)

“Automatic physical response,” Mas murmured, but his dick stirred and plumped up some more. Perry took it in his hand, feeling the column of flesh grow harder and firmer under his touch. So rewarding. He wouldn’t ever get tired of being the one to make this happen. But just his hand wasn’t enough. Perry leaned down and played with his tongue, tasting and licking until he couldn’t resist any longer. He took Mas into his mouth, using every one of the tricks and techniques Mas had taught him. He sucked hard and took him deep until he felt he was about to choke, then used the flat of his tongue to massage Mas on the upstroke, followed by a swirl to the head, and then back down again. A couple of repeats and Mas was moaning and even shifting his hips to get deeper.

“So good.”

Perry rolled Mas’s testicles in his hand and upped the ante until his jaw ached. Finally he was rewarded with a rather feeble spurt of salty goodness, and a deliciously throaty groan from Mas. He milked every last drop, then got to his knees over Mas. “Don’t fall asleep just yet,” he pleaded.

Mas blinked his eyes open.

Perry came like that, painting Mas’s chest with stripes of cream against the bronze, staring into Mas’s eyes until he couldn’t keep his own open any longer.

He collapsed down onto Mas, whispering how much he loved him, worshipped him, adored him. Words he hadn’t yet spoken aloud but which flowed freely in this sacred space, their bodies naked and sated.

A snore cut off Perry’s confession. Typical. But he couldn’t begrudge him his sleep.

Perry kissed Mas’s eyelids and went to fetch a towel to clean up with. Tomorrow was a big day, and perhaps if he could summon up the courage, he’d be able to tell Mas some of those things when he was actually awake.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Mas blinked his eyes open at the smell of fresh coffee, then saw the time and sat bolt upright. “Eight o’clock? Oh my God, I should have been up hours ago! Fuck, fuckity fuck. Why’d you have to let me have a lie-in, on today of all days!”

But Perry loomed over him and pushed him back into the pillows. “Sit. Drink. Take a few minutes to think through what needs doing and what’s a priority. I’m going to be taking notes.”

Mas squinted but stayed sitting. Perry was pretty damn hot when he got all commanding like that. Perry mimed drinking, so Mas sipped his coffee. Starbucks! He was in taste-bud heaven, even if he didn’t really have time to enjoy it. “You’ve really been down to Starbucks? Do you have any idea how much needs doing today?”

“No, but it’s all under control. I’ve drafted in help.”

“Who? Coz they’d better be up to the job. We’ll end up wasting more time than we save if you’ve hired some dozy teenagers.”

Perry rolled his eyes. Since when had he started doing that? “I asked Lewis and Jasper. They were surprised to hear what a state you were in, considering you turned down their offers of help earlier in the week.”

Mas’s cheeks began to burn. “Yeah, well, I had it all under control.”

“You did? Didn’t look that way to me.”

Mas refused to admit he’d been floundering. “I wanted to do this on my own. To prove to you all I’m not just some cute twink with shit for brains who has to call on his mates to get him out of a pickle every five minutes. I’m so fucking tired of being the one everyone laughs at behind his back for being weak and stupid.”

“No one’s laughing at you.”

“So you say.” Mas took another sip of his coffee and tried to calm himself down, but there was the party to contend with. And then there was that text that had come through from Grant late last night. The one where he mentioned having spotted Mas in the article in the
Bristol Evening Post
. He hadn’t even needed to make a veiled threat to gatecrash the launch. Mas’s imagination could supply that in full, 3D-glasses-on glory.

Would Perry still feel the same way when faced with firsthand evidence of what a slutty, gold-digging whore he’d really been?

He was about to tell Perry about it, in an attempt to get there first with his version of events, but Perry was already up and heading for the door. “I’ve got Jasper and Lewis both waiting downstairs, but it looks like we need to have a meeting about what needs to get done today. Are you all right receiving them in bed, or do you want to get dressed first?”

“Receiving them?” Mas couldn’t help but give a dirty chuckle. “Baby, I’m all about receiving men in bed. But yeah, maybe I’d better get some kecks on. Gimme ten minutes to get ready.”

Perry rolled his eyes again, the bastard. “I’ll tell them twenty.”

“Ten! I’ll be doing my super-quick, Superman-in-a-phone-box style getting ready. Believe me, I can do it when I have to.” Like when the man you were with suddenly kicked you out of bed because he heard a key in the lock downstairs, and you realised that the reason you’d been herded so quickly through the house was so you wouldn’t notice there were pictures of him and his boyfriend up all over the walls. That kind of quick change.

But he didn’t want to tell Perry about all that kind of thing. Not really. Mas had only told him about the relationships, neglecting to mention the countless one-night stands. If Perry knew just how many men he’d had, that love he was feeling would probably shrivel up and die. So he just smiled at Perry and told him to go start Lewis and Jasper on cleaning the front windows while they were waiting for him.

Perry gave him a sweet smile and a little wave before heading on downstairs. That man was too good for him. Mas sighed, before checking his phone to see if Grant had left another text. So far so good, although it didn’t seem like Grant to give up that easily.

Perry gave his creation a final polish and sat back to appraise it. Would Mas appreciate and understand his gift, or would he turn his nose up at it? Surely not. Mas wasn’t like that, and Perry had to stop expecting to find snobbery in him. That was part of being in a relationship, Mas was teaching him. Taking your partner as you found him and not assuming he was going to be a carbon copy of your parents.

It was tough to expect to find praise for his creations, however, when all they earned Perry in his youth was pity and disdain. And now Mas was asking him to brave the public and admit that he was the architect of his assembled artworks.

Perry glanced at his clock. Four thirty. Definitely time to go and find Mas. Perry had insisted they closed the shop half an hour early to make sure they all had time to eat and get dressed before the party started at six.

When he got downstairs it was to find Mas in the kitchen stressing over a bowl of dangerously unhealthy-looking round corn snacks, while Jasper and Lewis set out plates of other assorted nibbles. “They don’t look as orange as I remember them.” Mas caught Perry’s eye. “Do these cheese footballs look right to you? I knew I should have gone the whole hog and paid a visit to Waitrose instead of bloody Tesco.”

Perry strolled over and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend from behind. Mas didn’t stop worrying at the food, even when Perry kissed Mas’s temple. He peered down at the spread of retro hors d’oeuvres. There were sandwiches with three holes cut into the top piece of bread, and ominous looking red, green and yellow spreads arranged to make them look like traffic lights. There were a couple of hedgehogs made out of cherries, pineapple and cubes of cheese stuck into cocktail sticks and speared into half a grapefruit. A plate full of celery stuffed with cream cheese rubbed shoulders with a bowl of melon balls, and there were deviled eggs and cocktail sausages galore. His parents would hate it, which made it all the more appealing to Perry’s eyes. “I have no idea what a cheese football looks like when it’s right, but I’m sure if they are different to how they used to be, it will be a talking point for the guests.”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” Lewis said. “Could you get him out from under our feet, please? The minute we put anything down, he starts moving it around. It’s taking twice as long as it should.”

“I just want everything to be perfect!” Mas wailed.

Jasper and Lewis both turned equally exasperated glares in Perry’s direction.

“I think you need to leave this to your very capable assistants and stop worrying. If you get yourself into charming-host mode, nobody’s going to have much attention to spare for the food anyway. They’ll all be looking at you, desperate for a bit of your attention.”

“Now I know you’re lying,” Mas grumbled, but he turned around in Perry’s arms and hugged him. “Sorry. I just can’t stop thinking about everything that still needs to be done.”

“Jasper and Lewis have your list, and the most important thing is for you to come upstairs, have something to eat and get dressed for tonight. Oh, and Jasper? You’ll be needing this.” He handed over the key to his studio.

Mas’s eyebrows shot up. “No fair! How come Jasper gets your studio key before I do?”

“Because Jasper has agreed to help me with a little something for you. And no, you don’t get to find out what it is until later. It’s no use pouting, because I’m not going to change my mind.”

The pout dissolved into a hopeful smile. “I do love surprises.”

“And the sooner you have some dinner and get yourself dressed, the sooner you’ll get to find out what it is.”

Bribery seemed to do the trick, and Mas didn’t resist as Perry steered him back to the stairs. Perry took one last look at the room before heading up. “It looks amazing in here, you know,” he said. “I’m really not exaggerating either. You’ve done wonderful things with the place.”

A vision of the ceiling-high racks and looming furniture lurking in the gloom flashed before his eyes. It was a world away from the current open yet cosy room. A few choice pieces of antique furniture remained among the racks of clothing: a beautiful dresser and a round table, but both were now being used to display goods. Boxes and trays of buttons, handkerchiefs, cuff links and bow ties sat on the table. Pairs of highly polished shoes nestled on the dresser shelves in lieu of plates. Even the mantelpiece Mas had found at a local reclamation yard had been used to showcase old curios from the storerooms upstairs, including the jackalope in pride of place in the centre. The stag’s head mounted above was festooned with gentlemen’s hats of all styles, and when combined with Perry’s insect and lizard sculptures on the walls, the overall impression was of a Victorian steampunk study combined with a classy flea market.

“You really do like it?” Mas asked. “I’m always worried you secretly preferred how it was before, all cluttered and out of bounds to the public behind that raggedy old curtain.”

Perry shuddered just thinking about the oppressive melancholy the shop had used to exude. It had sapped all the energy out of him spending any time down there. “This is so much better, believe me. I would never, ever want to go back to the way things were.”

“Not even the being-straight part?”

“Especially not that part.” Perry patted Mas on the rear to move him in the direction of upstairs. “Now hurry up. We need to eat, and then we’re going to get dressed. It might take a while.”

“I thought I’d wear the blue-and-purple houndstooth with a sparkly shirt. I know it’s more retro than vintage, but if you’re going to go all 1930s, then I think someone needs to bring things a little more up-to-date.”

“Don’t you worry about what to wear. I’ve got something set out for you.”

“Oooh, controlling much?”

Oh dear. Perry’s face heated. “I didn’t mean it like that. You can wear whatever you like, of course.”

“Nah, don’t worry, it’s kind of hot, really. I mean, I’m not saying I’ll agree to wearing what you choose, but I definitely appreciate the thought of you planning what you want me to stuff this sexy bod into.”

That was more his Mas. Perry had missed that habitual flirtatiousness over the last week of stress. “Come on upstairs and see what it is before deciding either for or against. Oh, and thinking about it, perhaps I should insist you wear it, because this is still my shop, so my word goes. You’re not a partner just yet.”

“Are you pulling rank?”

“I suppose I am.”

Mas melted against him and purred. “Then take me upstairs and help me into my uniform, boss.”

After a quick and simple meal of soup and bread, Perry led Mas into the dressing room, but not before tying a scarf around his eyes.

“Now is not the time to go getting all kinky on me,” Mas had grumbled. “I’m never going to be able to get dressed if I’ve got a huge boner sticking out and getting in the way.”

Perry contemplated the bulge in Mas’s trousers. “I’m sure you can tuck it to one side. You’re not
that
huge.”

“Huh! Way to damage a man’s ego.”

“You have a perfectly lovely sized penis, and you know it. Now stop sulking and follow me.”

Mas bit back a smile as Perry led him into the dressing room, steering him until they stood facing the suit he’d hung out ready. Perry might have been standing behind him, but he’d made sure he had a perfect view of Mas’s face in the mirror. He wanted to see his reaction when the blindfold came off.

“Are you ready?” he asked, working the knot loose with his fingers.

“I was born ready. Come on, let me see what you’ve g—”

The scarf fell to the ground, revealing Mas’s expression. He was all circles, his mouth and eyes perfectly round.