Chapter 6
Dayton doesn’t like to wear clothes. I see him around the house in nothing more than his Unico briefs, accomplishing everyday things from room to room: reading James Patterson novels in the study, lounging on the Swedish sofa, running up and down the stairs and doing his laundry, preparing tuna salad sandwiches in the kitchen at the counter, taking a phone call in the living room, leaning against one of the doorframes.
The blue collar worker is beautiful, in my shallow opinion; everything I could want as a boarder, houseboy, lover…something. His body reeks of designed attractiveness; the way his right bicep moves when he lifts something/anything in his right hand, the thin and almost transparent sprigs of hair around his reddish n*****s, his white grin spreading from ear to ear
