Jay's Loelife Ch. 30

"I bought them at the airport after the wedding. I was going to give them to you as like, a grand gesture or something. It's stupid now that I think about it." He looks at the pathetic bouquet and frowns. "It was the first time I ever bought someone flowers. I felt so stupid. Not as stupid as I feel now. Trying to give you a bunch of dead flowers—" he shakes his head and gives the bouquet one last look, then cocks them back and aims for the bushes.

I grab his hand. There's no way in hell I'm going to let him chuck them. I hold the pathetically wonderful flowers. "Thank you."

His neck blooms a cute shade of pink. I press the mostly dry flowers to my chest and open the door for him.

"In my defense," he says as he walks past me. "They were dying when I bought them. I tried to make their last days the best I could. Floral hospice."

"You're practically a horticulturist."

Loren considers it for a second. "I guess I am."

"So, Mr. Horticulturist, what do I do with these?"

He looks at the flowers and laughs. "Oh, those are definitely a lost cause. You should probably throw them out."

Not on his life.

****

Given Loren's track record, I fully expected a sizeable gap between his generous and completely unexpected request to move to Denver and actually moving to Denver. Granted, we're not moving yet, but he is taking his new role as live-in boyfriend to a new level. One I like very much. I've gotten a peek at the 'full steam ahead' Loren who catapulted himself from a tween boy to a mega influencer.

Loren: I'm doing laundry... #domesticated AF

One glance at his text and I burst out laughing. Oh, I'm sure he's doing laundry. Just like he 'mopped the floors' two days ago and 'cleaned the bathroom' the week before that.

With a grin the size of Loren's following, I get out of the SUV and I stroll through the garage. Halfway to the laundry room, I turn on my heel and head back, locking the door just in case. A lesson learned the hard way.

Loren's standing in the laundry room surrounded by poorly folded towels. He's leaning on the counter with his phone in hand, scrolling through social media, his hip cocked.

Naked. Which is how all of his chores have gone to-date.

I lean against the door frame and smile. "All your clothes dirty?"

He startles. Dropping his phone, he quickly picks up a towel and folds it like he's been doing that this whole time. Once the towel is folded, just as lopsided as the rest, he turns to me. His eyes rove every inch of my body.

He bites his lip and saunters closer.

Loren runs his hands down my chest, brushing at an imaginary spot. "Your shirt is dirty. I should probably wash that." He grabs the hem and pulls it up and over my head. Then he moves to my fly. "Since I'm doing laundry..." His voice is nothing but a purr as he drops to his knees, pulling my pants down with him. I'm already half hard from his text. He's made the term 'domesticated AF' erotic. The last two weeks of housework have been X-rated.

I rake my fingers through his hair, yanking his head back a little as he teases me. His lip curls and his tongue darts out. Being watched is a power play for him. A skill he's honed over the years, on camera, and off. I'm his prey, helpless to his advances.

Loren teases me with his tongue before finally taking me in deep.

Weak, I stumble back, catching myself on the counter. My body trembles and legs shake as Loren sucks, pushing me over the edge until I cum in his mouth.

His tongue twirls gently around my tip, and I shiver. "Laundry isn't so bad."

I laugh. "Adding to it isn't the hard part."

Laundry doesn't get done and the towels don't get put away. Loren barely tosses my pants and shirt in the washer before he strolls out of the laundry room, his ass flexing and dick swaying with each step.

Domestication looks good on him.

Laughing at the change in Loren, I quickly load detergent, start the washer, then run after him. I catch up as he reaches the top of the stairs. I wrap one arm around his chest and one hand around his dick. "You like living together, don't you?"

He moans.

I slide my free hand up, framing his jaw. I tilt his head and run my tongue up his neck. "Say it. Tell me you like it."

"I love it. I love living with you."

Kissing his neck and jerking his dick, I walk him to the bedroom until he's bent over the bed and panting. I pin him there as I work him over with my fingers. When he's ready, I force his legs apart.

I press against him. "Who have you lived with?"

"No one." He hisses at the pressure.

I work the head in. "Are you gonna ask me to marry you?"

He presses his face into the mattress and moans.

I tilt his head so I can see him. "Not right now, but one day, right? One day you're going to ask me."

He nods. "Yeah. I'll ask you—ohhh fuck." is words are cut off as I press deeper, inch by inch, until I'm all the way in.

The same way he worked his way into my life.

****

Marcus: Linette Richards listed for Jorge and Becks. Had dem cribs sold in 90 days.

Shawn: I used her with my last house. She's more north area. I'd look at Ben Watson for your area

As I wait for Ben's website to load, I glance at Loren through the maze of lighting and film equipment. He's walking everyone through what will be our dinner tonight. Some sort of chicken dish. I bite my lip. He's not just a natural in front of the camera, he's an amazing teacher. Every time I watch him work, I'm amazed at how he can take something complex like welding a trailer frame or installing a lift in his van, and break it down in terms that anyone can understand.

That talent, however, doesn't crossover to domesticated stuff like laundry, no matter how hard he tries.

And now he's a real estate guru. Kind of. He has to finish all the projects first, but he's got ideas for selling his house.

I shoot an email to Ben, asking to schedule a meeting, then I continue watching Loren. It's so easy. I could do it for hours. When he leans forward, rambling off topic like he's talking to a friend, his muscles flex under his tight shirt and it's no wonder he has forty-two million followers.

When the dish is done, he points at me, then crooks his finger. A spot for two, worthy of the finest dining, awaits. Folded napkins, cutlery, and all the drinkware. Date night looks a whole lot different with millions of people watching.

When the food is gone and the camera is off, Loren leans in and kisses me, his lips soft and tender against my cheek. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For doing all this. You've never once made me feel like what I do is intrusive. Since the beginning, you've taken all of this—" he gestures to the equipment, "—in stride.

"It never feels intrusive. There is plenty of stuff the public never sees. You've struck a good balance."

He shrugs. "Still, this isn't the kind of life everyone can tolerate."

It hardly seems like an inconvenience. Either that or the payoff is just that good. I grab his hand and kiss it. He rolls his eyes a bit at the sappy gestures, but then he grins, so I know it's not too bad.

I squeeze his hand and smile awkwardly. The kind of smile that's less affectionate and more of a warning. "So, I did a thing."

"Oooo. Sounds ominous." He doesn't seem concerned.

"I reached out to our realtor in Denver and had them inquire about the house on the end lot."

Loren stills. He watches me carefully. It's the only house he loved. The way his eyes light up when he thinks about it is all I needed to know. It's his dream house.

"We put an offer on it."

"Oh, we did?"

"Yeah. It's a bit over market value, but they accepted."

All his playing it cool flies out the window. His jaw drops. I don't think he thought the house was an option. "Seriously?"

"What can I say? The husband is a big Jay Petermeyer fan."

He puts his head in his hands as he takes the news in. When he sits back up, his eyes are shining. "This past month I've stressed a lot, worrying that I jumped the gun. Not about living with you," he says in a hurry. "But about Denver. I've considered not selling my house, just in case. But that fear is just me doing what I do best, looking out for myself. We're supposed to be in Denver. I've known it for a while. I definitely felt it when we were there last. I thought I felt it with that house. When I saw it for the first time, I saw possibilities. Except it's not the house, it's you. All the possibilities are with you. The house is the shell of what we'll build together. A good shell, one I'll pay any price for, but—what I'm trying to say is—" He clenches his teeth, then stops, and lets a big breath out. "I see no other future for me than the one I have with you."

Once again, I'm blown away by the new maturity Loren shows. Every day he proves that he's in this for forever. Every day I love him more, if that's even possible.

"Let's go home, Loren."