August
Their meals had been good—overpriced and a little fussy for two coworkers sitting down to eat over a day planner and a notebook—but enjoyable. The room was warm, Doren’s chest was bare, and it was as distracting as all hell no matter how insistently August told himself it wasn’t.
He knew he was being stupid. Any man, any woman, any being with any s****l attraction whatsoever would take the leap with both feet and not question it for a second. Doren would have him; August didn’t doubt that. But then Doren would take on just about anyone who offered, as would ninety-five percent of most single young men. He also knew that Doren could probably teach him things he would never forget, and if he gave in, if he let it happen, one day he’d be able to look back and say, “I slept with Doren
