I Hate Summer (17 page)

“Trys isn’t a model, Meredith.”

“Would you like to be?” She ignored me.

“He has somewhere to be,” I answered for him.

“Will you pay me as much as him?” Trystan nodded in my direction.

“No, you’re just a pretty body—your face is too Abercrombie for Idrys’s paycheck.” Right then I actually could have kissed that irritating woman. “You can have half; that’s still almost two hundred quid for an hour’s work….” And then I was right back to hating her.

“Trystan,” I growled. “Yer’ve not been a pain yet. But I want ye out o’ my house.”

“Well, the flats I was going to look at were above my budget anyway.”

I cursed and marched back through to the studio. Behind me Meredith was pulling Trystan through to the makeup rooms.

“Do ye have any idea how irritating ye are, Trystan Jackson?” I muttered as he came into the studio wearing satin suit trousers and nothing else. They only wanted his chest, so his face looked like normal, but his torso gleamed like someone had already been to work on it in Photoshop.

“Hey, you really thought I was going to turn down two hundred quid?” he asked as he obediently let himself be positioned.

“Ooh,
Idrys
?” the other model uttered as he blatantly eyed Trystan up. “Where have you been hiding this guy?”

“Kieran, this is Trys, family friend. He’s staying with me for a bit. He’s also not gay so don’t get too excited.”

“Oh, well if you can’t be tempted by our gorgeous Ide, I suppose you must be as straight as they come.” Kieran grinned like a Lewis Carroll creation as he was directed into the shot.

Trystan quirked an eyebrow as he lay out across the studio, lounging back against his hand as Meredith directed.

“Idrys, like this morning with Kieran,” Meredith called. I rolled my eyes because this was fine when it was just a room full of arty types, but it was bloody embarrassing with Trystan around. I dropped my head into Kieran’s lap and stared up at him as the shot was taken. “Great, that is so much better with the body in the background. Lean against Trystan please, Idrys.”

Luckily the shoot only required Trystan to be in the background, so apart from resting an arm against him, I was still mostly just interacting with Kieran. I managed to slip back into the detached mindset I used for work. We had a couple of outfit changes, but the rest of the shoot proceeded without a problem and we were finished up by four thirty.

“You two coming out?” Kieran asked as I finished having my makeup removed and returned to my usual jeans-and-T-shirt-wearing self. Kieran was a little more flagrant about his sexual preferences, and I caught Trystan’s eye and rolled mine as the other model pulled on a hideous pink top.

“Did ye miss all yer viewings?” I asked Trystan, and he gave a guilty shrug. “Then sure, we’ll come; they pay,” I added for Trystan’s benefit and then the three of us were ready.

We went across town to a nice little bistro restaurant, and as a group we were probably a sight to behold as we piled in. Usually it was only me looking out of place with eight or nine arty types, so it was actually kind of a nice change to have Trystan there, looking as relatively normal as Trystan Jackson ever can. Although I guess I’m not one to talk.

“So, is Trystan your boyfriend, Idrys?” one of the makeup artists asked. I spluttered and beside me Trystan just laughed.

“Sorry, Jules, it’s just I don’t really do boyfriends, and Trys is straight,” I explained when she looked puzzled at our reaction.

“Huh?” A smile lit up her face and I actually sniggered as she turned to Trystan in one of the most blatant changes of attitude I have ever seen. I cocked an eyebrow at Trystan, but he actually looked kind of weary. I guess with a face and body like that it was probably a relief when girls assumed he was gay—yeah, right.

“So, you two are just friends? How do you know each other?” Jules asked.

“Our parents are holiday friends is the easiest way to explain it, I guess,” Trystan said.

“Yeah, Trys has ruined a lifetime of summer holidays,” I added and Trystan rolled his eyes. “He’s just staying with me while he finds a place to live.”

I realized the design artist was staring at Trystan with a look on her face that I knew I didn’t like.

“What is it, Meredith?” I asked.

“I’m thinking about next week’s shoot. I’ve got the guy who stood us up booked in, but you two looked good together—your colorings are such a great contrast. Would you be willing to stand in again, Trystan?”

Trystan was staring at me, and with a start I realized he was actually waiting to see whether I was bothered. “It’s up to ye, Trys. Ye should check the designs, though; make sure yer comfortable with whatever Meredith is going to want ye to do.”

“It’ll just be you, right?” he asked me and I looked round at Meredith, who had pulled out her diary and was flicking through it.

“Yeah, I’ve just got Idrys and the no-show booked in next weekend.”

“Then sure. I could do with the extra cash.”

Well, I was beginning to simply resign myself and go with the flow of crazy that seemed to be my life at the moment.

M
Y
BODY
was hot, but instead of flinching from the heat that was wrapping around me, I moaned pleasantly and pressed myself closer into it. It felt nice; fingers were dancing down my chest, skipping across my skin but leaving behind pulses of pleasant warmth behind. And then lips were being pressed against my neck and a hungry mouth was making short work of my pale skin and turning the pleasant warmth into a growing throb of arousal. My moan as I was rolled firmly onto my back was deeper and throatier than the first. Those lips were working along my collarbone; then they were devouring my flesh desperately as they worked down my torso, hands and mouth keeping pace as they drove me to a state of distraction.

There was something wrong with this situation. Somewhere in the back of my head I knew that, but the bittersweet pressure pulsing in my hips was drowning out that small concern. And then there was no more room for thoughts as lips quested over the head of my cock. They sucked lightly at first, drawing that pressure in and releasing it in pulses that drove me quickly to heady heights that had my body quivering. When I was balanced beautifully on the knife edge of steadily building pleasure and the cavernous fall of bliss on the other side, the mouth deepened its draws and I groaned and thrust up as the head of my cock was cushioned against a warm throat.

The eyes that held mine were the color of the shaded depths that lurked in the empty spaces between the trunks of a forest, bright and crisp and deep, smug and dark with lust.

I pushed my hand through tousled dark hair, and my body shook as it tried to bask in the pleasure and drive me quickly into my release at the same time. I whimpered, a low noise in the back of my throat that did nothing to help the inevitable ecstasy as I was suddenly plunging down into my orgasm.

“Shit.” I jolted awake as my body thrummed with the crest of my pleasure. I bucked against nothing, and I fought to hold myself still as I pumped my load, not into a warm and receptive mouth, but into my boxers—like a fricking teenager.

I stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily and massively conscious of the mess in my pants and the arm thrown possessively across my chest.

“Ide? You okay?” Trystan’s voice was groggy, thankfully he was too close to sleep to have noticed more than my odd thrashing.

“Fuck,” I swore under my breath, rolled out from beneath the pressure of the arm, and sat on the edge of my bed with my head in my hands.

A week. He’d managed a whole fucking week of staying on his side of the bed. I’d spent a week waking up with an odd sense of ridiculous misplaced loneliness and relief that he’d kept his promise. And the one time he messed up I had a fricking wet dream? I hadn’t come in my sleep since I was sixteen, for God’s sake.

“Oh shit.” I pressed my face into my hands as the memory of that dream caused my cock to stir. I’d come, but hardly enough, and in my dream Trystan’s mouth had been amazing. I quickly reminded myself that it was just a dream and focused on the uncomfortable dampness in my crotch instead.

“Oh bloody hell. Sorry.” Behind me Trystan was beginning to wake up properly and had clearly realized he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. “Ah crap, Ide. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“
Notaproblem
,” I garbled. “I’m going to get a shower.” I stood up and tried to keep my back to him as I grabbed my towel. But Trystan was jumping from the bed with far too much energy for so early on a Saturday morning. He snagged my upper arm and he spun me around.

“No, seriously, Ide. I’m not trying to mess shit up again.” He sounded serious and concerned as he tried to catch my gaze with his. “And the flat I saw yesterday wa….” He sniffed once, then looked down, and his eyes darkened as he finally realized what had happened.

“Oh fuck, sorry.” His voice was gruff as he stepped away from me.

I laughed—because my life was laughable at the moment and this situation seemed to sum it up perfectly. Plus, laughing helped to distract me from the memory of the sultry look the dream version of Trystan had given me as he’d dropped his mouth over me.

“I’m going t’ shower,” I repeated as I pressed a hand against Trystan’s chest to shift him out of the way and headed down to the bathroom. It didn’t help that I’d somehow ended up kind of busy and hadn’t slept with anyone since Ashlie a week ago.

I came back to my bedroom via the kitchen. It was Saturday and still early so I could walk around in a towel and not worry about bumping into James. I dropped two mugs of tea onto my desk and leaned against it.

“Ye need t’ shower; the taxi will be here in half an hour.”

Trystan was still sitting on the edge of the bed with a funny look on his face.

“Hmm?” he asked absently, and I rolled my eyes.

“Ye told Meredith ye would work this week. If yer’ve changed yer mind, it’s a bit late, and ye’ll be screwing me out o’ my wages too.”

“Shit. I haven’t changed my mind, just forgot.” He shot me a last funny look before he got up to get ready.

Half an hour later we sat in the taxi in silence.

“Look, Trys,” I said eventually, because he still had an odd look on his face. The fact he wasn’t ribbing me about this was actually kind of concerning, and it was going to be a pain if this caused shit between us again, because his house searching was going surprisingly slowly. “I’m sorry about this morning, not much I could do about it. So just forget it, ’kay?”

“No, I….” He grimaced, gave a shake of his head, and then fixed me with his more usual smug grin. “Can’t control yourself around me when you haven’t seen any of your fuck buddies?” he asked archly.

Unfortunately I couldn’t deny anything, because sharing a room with him meant he knew I hadn’t been out for a week.

“Been keeping tabs on me again, Trys? Dun go getting yer hopes up, straight guy,” I cut back as I flicked him the finger. Still, I much preferred dealing with arrogant Trystan, and I settled into the seat of the cab feeling a little relieved.

They got Trystan ready first because his outfit, makeup, and hair were all much simpler than mine. I didn’t mind waiting, because it was faintly amusing to watch him huff and complain about all the work the makeup artists and costume designers had to do to him. I wondered what he’d think if he had to put up with what they did to me. Although I think the fact that he was actually straight made the crew worse than usual. He went through to do lighting checks and a couple of test shots while I finished up so he didn’t see me until I was completely done up. His face when I came into the studio was a picture, and I kind of wish I’d gotten someone to capture it so I could laugh again later.

“Stop laughing, Idrys, you’ll ruin your makeup,” Meredith snapped as I tried to catch my breath. The hair girl grumbled something, too, and came to tuck something back in place. Trystan was standing in the middle of the studio, and he looked great even though he was only wearing stonewashed jeans. They hung well off his tidy hips, and that subtle six-pack of his was practically begging to be tenderly caressed as it gleamed in the lighting. By contrast I was in suit trousers and a fitted white dress shirt, but I knew that my face didn’t match. The confusion was why Meredith paid so much for me. They’d primped and primed my hair until the strawberry tone gleamed out against the platinum, and then they’d tousled it around my face, which was basically done like a girl’s.

I stopped in front of him. My gaze locked on his in faint amusement and a touch of curiosity. His dark brown ones were creased in puzzlement as he got over his surprise. He dropped his head to one side, looked down at my body, then up at my face until finally down again. “You
actually
look like a girl. A girl with no boobs, in men’s clothes. It’s weird as fuck.”

I heard the shutter start to go off. I didn’t know if they were doing test shots or just liked the natural scene, but I’d been doing this long enough that I knew to just ignore them.

“Trystan, onto the step, please,” Meredith directed, and Trystan stepped back and suddenly I was forced to look up at him again, which I kind of didn’t like.

“Ooh nice, Idrys, just stand there and look at Trystan like that; it’s great,” I heard Meredith mutter in the background. Which was fine with me, because looking at Trystan like he drove me crazy was pretty easy. “Like I said, Trystan.”

He bent his head to stare down at me and there was a really irritating smirk on his face. And part of me was certain it was because he was thinking about when I’d been shorter than him. He tucked his hand under my chin, tipped my face up, and lifted slightly so I had to strain up toward him. In the background Meredith was practically exploding with joy.

I barely registered it because I was so fricking turned on by that smirk in his eyes—so similar to the one in my dream—and the way he was forcing my body to balance so I could keep staring up at him. I could feel all my senses humming to life as lust slipped round my body in response to him. All of which was wholly unprofessional, massively inappropriate, and so
unbelievably
irritating.