Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 161257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 806(@200wpm)___ 645(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 806(@200wpm)___ 645(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Not that Max ever really would. He was merely humoring the kid. Because a full-time sub was essentially a relationship. And yeah, Max didn’t do those. No worries, though. At the rate Sean’s job performance was going, he’d never earn that kind of privilege anyway.
Max turned his sculpture clockwise and started on a new surface. Sean turned his gaze to the bookshelf by Max’s deck. Built into the wall, it held more than just books, things that Sean suddenly seemed pretty interested in. Max stole a peek. Sean was eyeing one of his favorite plants. His Juniper Bonsai.
Max smiled, then lifted a brow in surprise when Sean tested its soil with his finger. His expression turned contemplative. He glanced around the room, his gaze locking briefly on other plants. But before Max could make a single guess as to what he was thinking, Sean turned back to the bookshelves’ other items. A wooden carving, an Irish tankard, a jar of stones, a Navajo blade, and yeah, some actual books. Soon, though, Sean paused at the one and only picture frame and smiled as he looked at Max’s mom.
Max’s stomach tightened. Somehow he suddenly felt exposed. Those items hadn’t felt super personal until now. Fortunately, after the photograph, Sean wrapped up his perusal and quietly made his way toward the door.
Max furrowed his brow. Where’d Sean think he was going? For fuck’s sake, he was in his friggin’ underwear. Sean grabbed the knob and twisted, pulled the thing open, then shoved his head into the hallway and looked both ways. The coast must’ve been clear, because he glanced over his shoulder, met Max’s eyes and mouthed, “be right back.”
Max’s muscles tensed. Seriously? Where in the fuck was he going? Scott could be anywhere. Might run into Sean half naked. Max opened his mouth to sternly object, but Sean ducked out and disappeared before he could. Max pursed his lips and shook his head. Whatever that kid had up his sleeve, it better be fucking good. He got back to sanding, and a couple of minutes later, Sean hustled back inside with a grin.
Max paused, one brow lifting as he eyed what Sean procured. Max’s black-feather duster tucked under one arm, a pitcher of water, and some… olive oil? Must’ve snagged it right from Max’s kitchen cupboard, because the bottle had a pouring spout and everything.
Sean grinned at him boyishly, lip snagged between his teeth, then headed back to the other side of the room. Again, Max shook his head, this time fighting back a chuckle. Sean never ceased to boggle his brain. Rewetting his sandpaper, he resumed once more as Sean got busy watering the Bonsai.
Looked like he’d gleaned something else about Max; his unspoken fondness for plants. In fact, the very tree Sean was currently tending to was one of Max’s very favorites. One he’d planned on watering in the morning. Max inwardly smiled, feeling strangely flattered. Sean’s gesture was unexpected but awesome.
Sean hit Max’s pyramid bamboo next, then turned and wet the plant on Max’s desk. A kickass zebra cactus in a square, stone planter, situated perfectly in the far left corner—until Sean just barely bumped it, that is, shifting it ever so slightly out of alignment. No longer did its ninety-degree corner match the desk’s. Which, of course, Max totally noticed. No big deal. He’d fix it later. But to his surprise, Sean paused, glanced Max’s way, then quickly re-straightened it himself.
Max stilled. Blinked. Damn. Sean had noticed that about him, too. That Max was meticulous. That he liked things friggin’ perfect—except for Sean. Max definitely liked him messy. But that was beside the point. Max’s heart thump-bumped, turning warm in his chest. How could such an insignificant gesture make him feel so fucking good?
Max cleared his throat and looked away. Little Sean was starting to accrue points fast. Points Max suddenly couldn’t wait to reward him for. Good thing he was almost done with this sanding business. God knew, he had the patience of a child.
He picked up his electric handheld sander—a tool of similar shape to an electric toothbrush, but with attachments anda slightly thicker handle—and began the final touches. Painstakingly, he worked its tiny head into each groove, getting those hard-to-reach areas nice and smooth.
When he glanced back up a moment later, he found Sean fully entrenched in task three: skimming Max’s duster over every possible surface. Window ledges, bookshelves, desk, even Max’s sculptures. Max’s OCD brain cells purred with approval. Sean was rubbing all his sweet spots just right. Because not only did Max love his stuff perfectly precise, but also impeccably clean. Especially his personal domains. Hence, the wet sanding to cut down on dust—as savvy Sean took care of the rest.
Max fought back another small smile. Who knew Sean’s little assignment would end up pleasing him this much? His belly heated, then so did his cock. Not that it wasn’t already stiff, because it totally was. Had been since Sean shucked all his clothes. But apparently, whenever Sean pleased Max’s mind, by default, he pleased his dick, too.