Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 71912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“Look, if you can stay still for thirty seconds, this will be done, and we’ll both be happier,” Darius snapped.
“I’d be happier if I didn’t have to wear this damn thing.”
“Josh, show some respect,” his dad said, but he was too busy toying with his phone to put any authority behind the words.
Josh rolled his eyes and huffed.
It showed immense restraint on Darius’s part that he didn’t stab the little motherfucker with a pin or six.
Finally the pinning was done. When Darius stood, he was practically vibrating with a mix of annoyance and the desire to drag Marc into the back and put him over the table again.
Focus. He turned to the boy’s father, too disgusted to talk to little Josh anymore. Although to be fair, it was his father’s fault Darius had wasted an hour fitting a fucking rental.
“I’ll have this altered for you at the end of the day.”
“Thank you. Should I pay now?”
Damn right he wanted money up-front. “Yes, sir.”
While Darius sorted the man’s bill, Marc cleaned up the fitting area, putting away pins, measuring tape, and hanging the tux in the back without Darius having to prompt him. He even remembered the proper place to put the garment bag so it went into the day’s work queue. Maybe hiring him wasn’t a mistake after all.
Josh and his father exited, and Darius looked over at Marc as he reached up to put some fabric away. His arse was begging to be grabbed, spread, fucked.
Nope. He was right the first time—hiring Marc was definitely a mistake. Working all day with a semi was going to be hell.
“What the fuck is he doing dragging that boy to a wedding?” Marc asked as he came down off the step ladder.
“I’ve stopped asking questions like that. It’s hardly the most ridiculous thing you’ll see in here.”
“But if the kid doesn’t want to be there, he’s just—”
Darius waved him away. “Take the pants into the back and hem them. I’m assuming you’re capable of that.”
“Of course I am, but—”
Marc looked hurt, and Darius almost apologized. “We’ve got a lot to accomplish today, and now we’re nearly an hour behind.”
God, he was an arsehole, but if he didn’t send Marc away, he was going to do something he’d regret even more. He already wanted a drink, and it wasn’t even noon.
For the next half hour, he tried to focus on a design for a suit, but he was too keyed up. Every time he started to draw the lines, he found himself thinking about the lines of Marc’s body instead. He’d love to make something for Marc. He’d look amazing in solid black with just a touch of sheen. The fabric would contrast perfectly with his blond hair and bright green eyes.
He blew out a long breath and scrubbed his hand over his face. It had been years since he’d gotten this hung up on a guy. Hadn’t he learned his lesson when what he thought was love turned out to be nothing but manipulation?
That wasn’t love, it was infatuation.
It was trouble, but despite knowing better, he couldn’t get Marc off his mind. What was it about him? Sure, he was cute, but he wasn’t the type Darius usually went for. He liked men who were compliant, ones who got off on doing what Darius said but were happy to walk away afterward. Marc hadn’t minded Darius’s aggression so far, but he sure as fuck wasn’t easy. He’d made Darius work for what he’d taken, and… Darius had fucking loved it.
Marc wants you again as much as you want him.
Marc is going to fucking hate me by the end of the day.
He threw the scissors across the room. They scratched a mark on the wall before clanging to the floor. Great. Now he was a toddler having a tantrum. He’d spent a fuckload of time in therapy, working on anger he’d kept hidden for way too long. After that he’d been fine. Perfectly even tempered until…
Okay, maybe not perfect, but for the most part these days, his anger wasn’t anything he couldn’t solve with a long, hard fuck.
“Is everything all right?” Marc leaned into the workroom and looked around.
Fuck shit fuck, of course it wasn’t all right. “Yes, I… Yes! Just get that hem done.”
“It’s done. I was about to come tell you.”
“Then… Take lunch.”
Marc frowned at him. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I already said I was.”
Marc held up his hands in surrender. Darius hated the wary expression on his face. Now he probably thought Darius was unstable and he’d made a bad decision taking the job.
Tell him you won’t hold him to his contract.
I’m not going to fire him because I’ve got an unruly dick.
You already have a reputation for being fucking impossible to work with.
Marc was on his way down the stairs when Darius yanked open the door and shouted for him.