Versed in Desire. Anne Calhoun
and broad palms. The twenty-dollar Timex sports watch around his left wrist when his peers wore Cartier or Patek Philippe. His tie, seemingly subdued until you noticed the manga character at the bottom. The spot at the edge of his jaw he’d missed shaving. I substituted readily visible features for pectorals and shoulder blades, the ridges of his abdomen, the girth of his cock. Long accustomed to drinking in the world in order to create, I was searching for inspiration in the mundane.
I couldn’t help myself. “Bony?”
He shrugged, but a hint of color stained his cheekbones. “Skeletal’s probably a better word. Got a water for me?”
I reached under my desk, opened the dorm-sized fridge that cooled beverages for Tony’s meetings and handed Luke a bottle.
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