He adjusts his cuffs and then holds his arms out. “How do I look?” Really. Fucking. Good. Lickable. Suckable. Fuckable. I plaster on a smile and offer him a thumbs up. “Matching.” “Matching?” He raises a brow at me. “That’s all you have to say? I’m matching?” “Takes a noble man to be able to mix textures like you.” I offer him a golf clap. “Well done, dear sir.”
