George’s place was small, but tidy and clean. Blaine preferred not to bring hookups home with him, but it was often a germaphobe’s worst nightmare going home with them. Some of the most well-turned-out men were such total slobs it was hard to even hold a boner in the surroundings. He gazed around the room, taking in the tasteful, if inexpensive, furnishings.
“Told ya.”
“You’re a man of your word, George. I like that.” Blaine followed him the few short steps to his bedroom.
George turned and looked him over. “I don’t suppose it’d be a good idea to just rip that suit off you in a horny haze.”
“I’d appreciate it if you managed to resist.” The suit cost more than George probably made in a month.
George pulled a straight-backed chair away from the wall. “Here…is this good enough to hang it
