JONAH

I dropped Elvis off over three hours ago. It was my intention to drive straight back to London, gorgeous boy be damned, but instead, I headed for Vera Kingsley’s old office and threw myself into work. Visions of Elvis naked in my bed; across my lap; driving my car with his cock out, filled my head, distracting me on and off all afternoon. By five o’clock I was tearing my hair out. I slumped in my chair staring at Mrs Kingsley’s garish Christmas tree taking up almost half the office space, and wondered what the hell I was going to do about my predicament. I brokered multi-million dollar deals with more ease than sorting my feelings over a man I’d been on one date with. Making money was simple – making love was the issue.

Love? Where did that come from? Could you fall in love in one day? The logical, practical part of me said ‘no’, however, that contradicted what I was feeling. I wasn’t a silly teenager with a crush, I was a thirty-four year old man who should be able to distinguish between insta-lust and genuine emotion. And yet…

“Nico.”

“It’s me.”

“Hello, me.”

“Don’t be cute.”

“Well, I can’t help that, Sir.”

I rolled my eyes. Nico was such a joker. “I need you to find me a house in Oxford.”

“Oxford? Near Kent Village?”

“Near enough. I want it to be in a nice area, but not flashy.” Nico knew my tastes.

“Ok, Jonah, I’ll start looking for you.” He sounded like he knew I was serious about this.

“Thank you. And Nico…”

“Yeah.”

“I want to move in this week.” I put the phone down to him yelling curses at me. I appreciated it was the week before Christmas, so I’d give him some leeway. Meanwhile, I needed to speak to Isadore Woolf about the charity event on Sunday, which reminded me that his personal assistant, Jason Greenall, lived in Oxford, if I recalled correctly.

“Woolf.”

“Hi, Izzy, it’s Jonah.”

“Good to hear from you. Are we still on track for Sunday? I do hope so. The kids are so excited to go shopping, especially to that hip shoe place, Zapato, is it?”

“Zapato. Yeah, it’s all set up, no worries. The manager there is organising for it to be special for them. He’s a really good guy.”

“Is everything ok, Jonah?”

Damn Izzy. I had forgotten he was a Master Dom. Part of his skill was to hone in on how people were feeling. “Man trouble.” I laughed. “Nothing I can’t sort.”

“I have no doubt of that!”

“Izzy, I wanted to ask you something about your Jason.”

Izzy sniggered in my ear. “Not mine; Remi and Angel have that pleasure now.” I had heard that Jason was off the market, although I thought he’d hooked up with a pair of twins. Not my thing, but I’d never judge. “How can I help?”

I told Izzy that I was planning to settle in Oxford for a while to be near Kent Outlet Village to support their new manager. Even to my ears it sounded a little questionable. We both knew full well I had other staff that could train Elvis. “I don’t know anyone in the area and thought Jason might be able to give me some advice about living here.”

“I’ll let him know in advance of our visit at the weekend. You can have a chat then.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it. I’ll see you Sunday. Nico will email the itinerary.”

“And Jonah…” Izzy paused. “Hope your training goes well.” He cut the call, the fucker. He totally knew I was bullshitting. Talking of which, I really had to get my head around what I was going to do about the blue-eyed boy named Elvis.

“Afternoon, Mr Kent.” I’d gone for a walk around the village to stretch my legs and pick up a Starbucks coffee. It just so happened it was two doors down from Zapato.

“Good afternoon…” I leant forward to read the barista’s name tag. “Jonny. I’m going to be around for a while. I warn you, you’ll be seeing a lot of me in here.”

“What can I get you, sir? We have cinnamon infused lattes for Christmas if you’d like? Comes with a frothy cream top.”

I laughed. “Just a black coffee for me, thanks. The drip is fine.” I paid and moved to wait at the end of the counter for my drink. The place wasn’t too crowded, but I was pleased to see plenty of exhausted shoppers nursing their drinks, surrounded by bags of purchases. Suddenly, a familiar peal of laughter shattered my equilibrium. I heard Elvis chatting away to Maddy about, of all things, my car, and how he’d driven it practically all the way home. His enthusiastic story telling technique both entertained and irked me in equal measures. I was pleased to learn he’d enjoyed the Jag, yet miserable to hear his good spirits. I’d been in a melancholy mood all day over our disagreement, but apparently, Elvis was over it.

“Mr Smith,” I acknowledged tersely, as I walked past him. He was initially startled to see me, then his natural sass kicked in.

“Mr Kent, how lovely to bump into you here, of all places. Don’t you have someone to do the coffee run?”

Slightly patronising with a hint of challenge. I could take that.

“Indeed, I do.” I paused until I had his complete attention. “But you don’t start until the New Year.”

Maddy sprayed her tea all over the floor. “Oh my God, that was brilliant.”

Elvis looked appalled. “Please don’t humour him.”

“I’ll be in touch,” I told him as I left. I was still mad at him. He needed to apologise to for holding pre-conceived opinions about me. Until he did so, I wasn’t letting him in.

I left Kent Village and drove back to London, to my house on Portland Place. Bizarrely, it felt empty without Elvis in it with me, despite him only having visited once. I looked around at the bland décor and pristine furniture with distaste. This wasn’t a home, it was soulless and depressing. I had considered getting a tree and making the place look a bit festive, but there was no one to appreciate it, so I didn’t bother. I missed my New York apartment and my friends. Weighing up my options, I thought maybe I should just go home; forget about Elvis and let someone else train him up. I was about to look up flights when my mobile vibrated with an email from Nico.

Sending link to a house in Abingdon, just outside Oxford. Perfect for you, and it’s empty. Family moved to Spain last week. They sound dodgy, but sale is legit. LMK asap as estate agent closing for Xmas at end of week.

I placed my lap top on the island unit in the kitchen and opened my emails to click on the link as instructed.

“Oh, wow.”

It took a lot to impress me, but this property was something else. Nico had gone on to tell me that it was left mostly furnished, as the owners had bought a villa and wanted to start completely afresh with more of a Hispanic influence. I scrolled through the description until I got to the photo gallery. The house was a stunning barn conversion that combined both traditional and modern architecture. It was huge with over an acre of landscaped gardens. It had five bedrooms on the second floor; the master bedroom was dual aspect with a wraparound terrace and beautiful ensuite. Downstairs was open plan kitchen/family room and living room, with the same wraparound glass doors. The family shared tastes similar to mine and I could instantly see myself living there. I thought Elvis would love it.

“Whoaaaaa,” I berated myself loudly. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, old chap!” A wry laugh left my lips. I was in deep trouble.

Dear Nico, well done on finding a property so fast. Make an offer tomorrow. I want to exchange and complete by Friday. Regards, Jonah.

Being rich definitely had its benefits.

The next day, I arrived at Kent Village well before opening time. As much as I tried to deny it to myself, I was hoping for a glimpse of Elvis before he got into work. Applying my best stalking skills, I parked up and sat beady eyed waiting for his little Mini to pull into the staff car park. I left my engine running to make it look as if I’d just arrived. Sure enough, with plenty of time to spare, a splash of red screeched into a spot three spaces down from mine. There was no way he couldn’t have seen me. I cut the engine and got out of my Jag at the same time Elvis opened his door. I watched him wrestle with the seat belt; check his reflection in the mirror; blow himself a kiss, then finally get out of his car. He faltered slightly when he caught me blatantly checking him out. He looked amazing. His jeans today were white and ripped at the thighs and knees. He’d tucked them into the same pair of shiny black Doc Marten boots, choosing to offset their hard look with glittery silver socks. He wore his Zapato shirt adorned with a skinny tie, also in silver glitter. I was pleased to see he’d left his hair naturally brown, but it looked as if he’d styled his quiff with glittery product. I noted he’d gone with a theme and run it to the max. He was my super sexy, living, breathing disco ball. It should have looked tacky, but on Elvis it looked perfect.

He ambled leisurely around to the passenger side of his Mini and opened the door. He reached in to retrieve his jacket and bag from the seat, purposefully bending at the waist in order that his perky arse was pointing quite deliciously in my direction.

“Fucking tease,” I muttered under my breath while I discreetly adjusted myself. I so badly wanted to dash over and wrap him up in my arms, but if I did that, I’d be selling myself short, and I’d worked too hard for my reputation to compromise for anyone – even Elvis. I sighed; shook my head and turned towards my office.

“Jonah – wait!” My heart leapt into my throat. With my best poker face, I turned back around to face Elvis. “Have you got a minute?”

I looked at my watch. There was a good half an hour before Elvis needed to be in work. I realised he’d arrived early to catch me too, and it gave me hope. “Sure. Walk with me to my office.” It was, theoretically Elvis’s office now. He skipped over and fell into step beside me. We didn’t share another word until I was sat at my desk with him in the chair in front of me.

He sat forward with is hands in his lap and cleared his throat. “I owe you an apology.”

Five words I’d spent a sleepless night praying to hear. I steepled my fingers. Elvis chewed his lip and ran his hands up and down his thighs. My cock got hard. Elvis’s cheeks pinked as he struggled to get his words out.

“I’m an idiot. In fact, I’m probably more of a snob than you are. The cleaner comes in every morning to wash the floor and I barely even acknowledge her. I gossip with Maddy about the state of some of the customers and am constantly surprised that they can afford to buy Zapato shoes. I’m so judgy about the other shop window displays.” He made a hand gesture which I assumed was meant to emphasise what he was saying, but my brain was slowly frying at his torrent of words. “My parents brought me up with manners, I swear. They’d be mortified at my ignorance. I just look at you and all that you are and find it hard to believe I could be attractive to you. When you stood in my bedroom looking out at the street…”

“Stop!” I barked. “For the love of God, shut up, please.” Elvis slumped back in his chair, but miraculously, he did actually stop talking. “I get it. You’re sorry.”

“I truly am.” He looked contrite alright.

“You’re forgiven.”

“I am!” Elvis bounced in his seat. “Do you mean it? Oh my God, I had a horrible night. I so want a do-over.”

I rose from my seat and walked around my desk to perch in front of him. Elvis stood and nudged his way between my legs. I wrapped my arms around his waist and he leaned into me. I placed my lips to his forehead. “Can we agree to be honest with one another? This to and fro all the time is quite frankly, way too exhausting.”

Elvis nodded. His blue eyes shone with emotion. He lifted his hands and held my face. “I promise to have more faith in you. Even in the short time I’ve known you, there’s been nothing you’ve done for me to doubt your integrity.” Elvis popped a chaste kiss to my lips. “You are, however, the master of a quick-witted come back. That was epic in Starbucks yesterday.”

“Quite clearly, you bring out the best in me.” We both chuckled. “Can I take you to dinner tonight? In fact, come back to London with me – it will give us a chance to talk.”

“Oh Jonah, I really wish I could, but it’s the Kent Village Christmas Party. Surely you’re invited to that?”

“Umm, no, don’t recall.” My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from Nico.

Reminder – KV Xmas do tonight. Fancy dress – outfit arriving later. Have fun, Grinch. N.

“Shit.” I groaned. “Just got a reminder from Nico. Where is it anyway?”

“Here. It’s a street party. I’m on the Kent Village social committee, so can hardly cry off. Sorry.”

“Outside? In December?” I shivered at the thought.

“Just pray it doesn’t rain. We have those outdoor heaters scattered about, but to be honest, everyone gets so rat arsed they don’t feel the cold.”

“Sounds joyful.” I already hated it.

“Don’t be such a grumpy bastard. It’s loads of fun. Masses of finger food washed down with gallons of prosecco. Sparklers, music, entertainment.”

Elvis was lit, which meant I immediately changed my mind about going just to see him in all his party going glory. “What are you wearing? Is there a theme?”

Elvis tapped his nose. “Superheroes and Comic book characters, with a Christmas touch, and you’ll have to wait and see.” I was both elated and horrified. The former because I was sure Elvis was going to embrace the theme in the best possible way, and the latter, because, sure as fuck, if I knew Nico, my costume was going to be nothing less than obscene.

“I better get Pete on stand-by then. I think I’m going to need copious amounts of alcohol to get through tonight. I’d still like you to come back with me.” Luckily, Oxford was only about an hour’s drive, which wasn’t too much of a commute in the short-term. Never-the-less, I was looking forward to hearing that my offer on the Abingdon house had been accepted. I decided to wait until it was confirmed before sharing that information with Elvis. Truth be told, I was slightly nervous about his reaction.

“Jonah.” Elvis’s voice had turned serious. “I know I can come across a bit of a drama queen sometimes, but I’m not high maintenance, I promise. I’ll try my hardest to make a success of this job.” His expression was so earnest, all I could do was kiss him. I was amazed at the responses he brought out in me. Any other man, on any other day and I would have heartlessly dismissed him as a lover and an employee. I was used to sex not love; to quick hook–ups, not buying houses on a whim just to be near a crush I’d had for a day. I’d gone crazy. Jonah Kent the entrepreneur, was mortified, but Jonah Kent, the man, was elated. It struck me then, that I had been more than simply alone; I’d been lonely.

“Need air!” Elvis gasped. “And coffee. Look at the time!”

“Come on, I’ll treat you to a latte at Starbucks. Jonny’s expecting me.”

We chatted on the way down to the coffee shop. Elvis brought me up to speed with his plans for Sunday night. I told him how much I appreciated everyone’s help. He said the owner of Zapato, Senor Mateo Garcia, wanted to donate one pair of footwear per person, plus any odd accessories up to the value of £25 each. I was aware that Mateo had achieved great things in the retail world, originally in Spain and now globally.

“How did you wangle that?” I was deeply impressed.

Elvis waved his hand nonchalantly into the air. “Oh, when Mateo was over last month, I blew him in the stockroom. I told him there was CCTV in there, and now he’ll do anything I ask him.”

I actually tripped over my own feet. I was aghast. I began to sputter a response but the words got stuck in my throat. Elvis stared at me stony faced before emitting an ear drum bursting squeal of laughter. “Oh my God,” he was crying with hysterics, “I can’t believe you fell for that.”

“You mean you didn’t blow him?”

Elvis chewed his lip in thought. I pulled it out of his mouth. He shook his head. “No, I blew him, just there’s no CCTV in the stockroom.” The boy literally folded in half clutching at his stomach. “I can’t breathe.” He was indeed gasping for air. “Oh hell, your face.”

“Elvis!” I barked at him. “Get a grip, for fuck’s sake!” The more I berated him, the more he laughed. In the end, the infectious sound set me off, and for the first time in ages, I found myself roaring along with him.

We burst through the door at Starbucks startling the early morning coffee drinkers. Jonny was behind the counter. “Mr Kent, Sir. Your usual?”

“Yes please, Jonny. And whatever Elvis wants.” Jonny arched an eyebrow at Elvis who was trying his best to pull himself together.

“Hi Jonny; umm, a latte for me please.” We nudged up the line to wait for our order.

“So, you didn’t do that with Mateo.” It wasn’t a question.

“No, silly goose. Of course, I didn’t. I’m not that kind of boy.” Elvis attempted to look innocent.

“Firstly, I’m glad to hear it. Secondly, I’m not a goose, and thirdly sweetie, I beg to differ.”

Elvis rolled his eyes at me. “He hasn’t ever been here, to be honest. I just called the charity department of head office and put in the request. They got back to me with that offer within two hours. I was most impressed.”

“Mateo Garcia is a good guy.”

“I wouldn’t know, Joe, but his company is certainly very supportive.”

“Joe…” I breathed. I liked when Elvis shortened my name. Our coffees were ready. Elvis had to go and prepare for opening his shop, and I had work to catch up on. I had conference calls on and off throughout the day, so we arranged to meet later at the party.

“Bye babe.” Elvis pecked a kiss on my cheek and swanned off to his day. I drooled over his tight butt as he sashayed off.