Mr. Jaguar by K.A. Merikan Read Free Book Online Page B

Mike said with a grin.
    James bristled up. “See who I have to deal with?” he hissed as soon as the couple got out of hearing range.
    Mike pulled his hands away and picked up the clothes. “Yeah, he seems like an ass, but now you have an extremely cool boyfriend, so nothing to stress out about.”
    James sighed and turned back to him, stuffing his shirt back into his pants. “Yeah. You don’t need much training, do you?”
    Mike smirked, straightening up with pride. “Told you I could do it. I can even do a British accent actually.”
    James frowned, his plump lips moving like a dream whenever he said something. “You can?”
    Mike cleared his throat for effect before changing his accent. “Yep, I love James Bond. I’ve seen all the movies, some of them a lot more than once.” He looked at James to see if it had an effect. And as stoic as James tried to be, his eyes became very dark.
    “You’ve changed,” said James eventually.
    “Huh?” Mike wasn’t sure what to say to that. It wasn’t what he expected. “What do you mean?”
    James shrugged. “You’re far more… socialized than I expected.”
    Mike switched to the English accent again. “What you mean, dear James, is that you expected a savage, yet you got the perfect gentleman.”
    James rolled his eyes. “Pushing your luck there.”
    Mike sighed and turned away toward the fitting rooms. Always fucking shot down. “Yeah, I’m probably still drunk with that expensive wine.”
    “You seem pretty sober to me.” James shrugged. “Good job with this asshole by the way.”
    “I’m not gonna let him make you feel like shit for no reason,” Mike said as they walked into the fitting rooms. “What’s his problem, anyway?”
    James followed him over the polished floor. “Bullies thrive out of high school too?”
    Was that a dig at Mike? “I don’t get it.”
    James snorted. “Just look at him. The popular kid twenty years later. Still picking on the geek.”
    Mike walked into one of the large cubicles, closed the door behind them, and took his top off. “I don’t get you. You’re hot and rich, why would you care? Even if you are a fag or weird.”
    James blinked. “Look who’s talking.”
    Mike bit the inside of his cheek not to spit out curse words. Heat crawled up his spine. He turned around, pretending he was choosing the shirt to try on first, but really he didn’t want to look at James all that much. Talking seemed like a minefield. Mike was just trying to keep it real. “Whatever, be the victim then.”
    “I’m not a victim, and I won’t be called a ‘fag’,” growled James, pacing behind Mike’s back.
    Mike took a deep breath and counted to ten in his mind. “Sure, sorry, baby.” He pulled on the expensive shirt. It felt smooth and soft against his skin, even though it smelled of nothing.
    “There are more people like him out there, so we need to be wary during the conference.” James cleared his throat, and Mike saw him behind himself in the mirror. He sat down in a chair in the corner, his gaze running up and down Mike’s body. It was embarrassing and exciting at the same time.
    “We’ll be fine. This was a good test drive.” Mike quickly buttoned up his shirt and turned around, spreading his arms. “This all right?”
    James bit his lip and brushed his chin with a finger. “It’s all right,” he said, but with his eyes shining as they were, it was clear to Mike that the audience enjoyed the spectacle.
    Mike unbuckled his belt in front of James, just to check out his reaction. He pushed his shoes off and unzipped his jeans. A part of him already fantasized about getting a blowjob here and now. He did good with Richy Rich after all.
    James looked down at his wristwatch, all flustered. He then pulled out his smartphone and started browsing through it.
    Mike huffed with frustration and put on the pair of smart brown pants which would go with the white shirt. A nice semi-casual style he’d never choose on his own.