My Prince by Anna Martin Page B

Alex followed suit, then grabbed his hand.
    “Let me get you a drink.”
    “Water?” George said, almost apologetically. “I don’t normally drink cocktails, and I think it’s gone to my head.”
    “Lightweight,” Alex teased. He tugged gently on George’s hand to lead him through to the kitchen.
    Some of the flats in this area had four, maybe five bedrooms, they were that big. Alex’s flat had the same amount of space, he’d just used it differently. Instead of having a dining room, he’d knocked the wall through so his kitchen was huge. It meant he had a big sofa just to the side of the kitchen where most of his friends would hang out while he cooked.
    Alex enjoyed that, bringing people together, though his work schedule meant he didn’t get to do it as often as he liked.
    George was looking around as they walked quietly through the flat, mindful of something in the darkness Alex couldn’t name. He took two glasses from a cupboard and filled them with water from the jug in the fridge, the one with the filter on it.
    When he turned back to George, Alex found himself being backed up against the counter and kissed thoroughly. With a glass of water in each hand, he couldn’t do much about it, and he smiled into the kiss, ducking out of it when his fingers started to itch with the need to touch.
    “You’re insanely fucking beautiful,” George murmured against Alex’s neck.
    Alex preened, adoring the attention, and tilted his neck to the side to give George better access. He went straight to it, nibbling and licking and sucking, and after putting the glasses back on the counter, Alex wrapped his hands around George’s thick biceps.
    Fuck, you’re ripped , Alex thought, though he somehow managed to keep that to himself.
    “Come on,” he said instead. He took George’s hand once more, passed him one of the glasses and picked up the other for himself, then led him out of the kitchen and downstairs.
    “You have an upside-down house,” George said.
    “Hmm?”
    “Bedrooms downstairs, living area upstairs.”
    Alex shot a grin over his shoulder. “I suppose. It’s nice down here, though. Much cozier than upstairs. And warmer too, because we’re below street level.”
    It was dark in the hallway without the lights on. Alex knew his way around well enough in the dark, and didn’t reach for the switch. His guest bedroom was at the front of the house, his own bedroom and the bathroom on opposite sides of the hallway at the back.
    Because of the low ceilings down here, Alex didn’t have an overhead light in the bedroom. Instead he’d picked out lamps: a few for the walls, one standing and one on each bedside table. They cast warm shadows over the room, making it much more intimate, in his opinion.
    He looked back to where George was hovering in the doorway.
    “Do you want to come in?”
    George smiled shyly and rubbed the back of his neck, then ran his hand over his shaved head. He set his water down on one bedside table, then skimmed his hand over the heavy oak headboard.
    “This is nice.”
    “Thank you. I’m, uh, just going to use the bathroom quickly. Make yourself at home.”
    George nodded again. Alex silently took a deep breath and almost ran across the hall to the bathroom.
     
     
    T HE FLAT was gorgeous , George decided. He didn’t really have many opinions when it came to interior design, but it was clear someone had taken a lot of care with this place. Upstairs was stunning: beautiful ceilings, warm wood floors, classy furniture. Down here too. The bed had four half posts, one in each corner, huge thick stumps of wood that reached up to his waist.
    An errant thought about tying Alex spread-eagled to those posts crossed George’s mind, and he pushed it away.
    It was warm in this little room, with its pale walls, wooden floors, and sparse furnishings. When George pulled off his socks, he decided there was underfloor heating. He couldn’t figure out how else the floors would be so warm,