Page 45 of Home Grown Talent

“Yeah, maybe.” Owen set down his empty mug, tugging Mason close again. “Now come back here.”

Mason did, leaving his phone and mug on the table, resting his cheek on that soft flannel shirt and slipping an arm around Owen’s middle. God, he felt good to cuddle.

Owen gave a happy sigh and began toying idly with Mason’s hair. It felt amazing, that touch, intoxicating. Closing his eyes, Mason smiled as he pressed his head into Owen’s hand, content as a cat.

After a while Owen said, “So what next?”

“Next?”

There was a long pause. Then Owen said softly, “I’d like to do this again. All of it, I mean. Not just the sex. Although definitely the sex.”

“Yeah?” Mason looked up at him, close enough that his nose nudged Owen’s jaw and he breathed in the faded scent of Tom Ford aftershave and the subtle hint of sex that lingered on Owen’s skin. It set off a squirmy, sexy feeling in his stomach. “Is this your way of asking me to cook for you again?”

“What? No.” Owen’s cheeks pinkened. “I mean—yes, obviously you can cook for me any time you like; you’re a bloody genius in the kitchen—but there’s lots of other stuff I’d like to do with you too.”

“Same here,” Mason said. He hesitated, then added, “I suppose the question is, how open do you want to be about it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know Misty wants us to flirt on-screen, right? Tease the audience with some will-they-won’t-they stuff?”

Owen waggled his eyebrows. “Will-they-won’t-they? I’d say they already did. With bells on.”

Laughing, Mason said, “Yeah, well, that’s the thing. Like, do we tell Misty at this point, or…?”

Owen was quiet. Then he said, “Do you think she’d care? It’s not really any of her business.”

“Oh, she’d care. She’d fucking love it. But she wouldn’t want the audience to know yet.”

“That’s kind of weird, but okay,” Owen said. “Maybe we keep it on the down-low then? I mean, you can still flirt when we’re doing the filming, right? That’s what Misty really cares about, and it won’t affect that. Might even make it better.”

“Sure,” Mason agreed lightly. Then, to be clear, he added, “But she does expect us to flirt on social media, too.”

“Flirt?”

“You know, it gets the audience going. It’s part of it.”

“Okay,” Owen said slowly. “But that’s just to promote the show, isn’t it? It’s not part of this.” Owen tightened his arm around Mason’s shoulders. “This is private, right? This is the real us.”

“Yeah.” Mason lifted his head again to look at him, their eyes meeting, holding. “This is just us, doing what feels good.”

And if it happened to play well with the audience—and Misty—then that was just an added bonus.

Owen’s eyes twinkled. “Talking of feeling good…” He leaned forward, lips brushing against Mason’s, their noses bumping, stubble catching.

“We should eat out next time,” Mason said, a little breathlessly. His head was starting to spin, in the best possible way. “There’s a pop-up Peruvian-Japanese restaurant I’ve been dying to try, if you fancy it?”

“Mmm, sounds interesting.” Owen nuzzled Mason’s jaw and throat, then returned to his mouth for more kisses, his plush lips moving against Mason’s, teeth nipping, tongue sliding, slow and sensuous and patient. “I’d like that, yeah.”

Smiling, Mason leaned back against the sofa cushions, drawing Owen with him. “How about next Saturday?” he said, unfolding his legs as Owen moved forward, covering Mason’s body with his larger frame and sliding one strong arm underneath his shoulders to pull him closer. It felt fantastic.

“Sounds like a date,” Owen murmured, dipping his mouth into the hollow at the base of Mason’s throat, licking him there, sucking gently. Teasing.

“Fuck, yes,” Mason gasped, arching up as Owen’s hand slid beneath the waistband of his shorts and closed around his aching cock with a gentle, commanding pressure. “It does, doesn’t it?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Owen