Mr. Jaguar Read Online Free PDF

drink, we could have grabbed something at a gas station.”
    “I want something special.” Mike got out of the car and paced over to James’s side to… open the door for him, with his father still looking on. Now it was getting surreal.
    “Er— thanks,” uttered James, praying he wouldn’t stumble or hit his head on the way out. His chest was so tight he had to fight for air. It felt nice to have someone be so gallant toward him.
    “You wanna get something too?” Mike asked and put his thick, firm arm over James’s shoulders. It was unbelievable that Mike Miller would be doing this in his home town. James had definitely missed some memo.
    The arm was draped over him like a heavy cloak that made him more handsome, more desirable. His gaze darted lower, to Mike’s bare torso, and he took a shivery breath. It had been too fucking long since a man did that to him. That was why he was getting all fidgety like some teenage virgin. But Mike’s smell was now so intense, so close, evaporating in the sun and clinging to James’s skin.
    “Maybe.”
    “Cool.” Mike led them inside, completely ignoring the frown on his father’s face. James went cold when Mike slipped a note into the man’s chest pocket, but nothing happened.
    “Hey Donna, how’s it going?” Mike asked a woman who put her hands over her daughter’s eyes as soon as she saw them.
    “What are you doing?” asked James, trying not to look around too much. The stares he could feel on his skin were making him too self-conscious. Like when his secret passion had been revealed in the dark classroom all those years ago.
    “Chill out. You’re so hot. Everyone’s just fuckin’ jealous. I’m giving this town one last ‘fuck you’,” Mike said as they got to the liquor aisle.
    “Just… relax. Please, don’t throw anything at anybody. I can’t be arrested tonight.” James inhaled and slowly raised his hand to touch the palm resting on his shoulder. That was what he used to do with his first boyfriend back in college. He loved playing with thick, manly fingers.
    “I’m cool, sweetie. No throwing stuff, got it.” Mike leaned down and kissed him again. James was thanking all deities ever conceived that the place wasn’t packed. He only heard some people gasp from the side, like a choir of bigotry.
    “The fuck are you doing?” hissed someone, and James’s head jerked up like a bobble-headed dog’s. His eyes darted straight to a blond man in the store uniform. His chest was moving the crate of wine he was holding. Oh, no. Was this another person Mike wanted to show the middle finger to?
    “I’m celebrating an anniversary with my boyfriend, show me your most expensive wine,” Mike commanded as if he were the king of Walmart.
    “You’re so messed up, Mike,” the blond groaned and put down the crate. His fingers squeezed into fists.
    James swallowed hard. He could play this game too. “Red, if you please,” he said, for once looking straight into the guy’s eyes. If he chose to attack James, Mike would surely come to the rescue, like a good pretend-boyfriend.
    Now the man sneered at James as well.
    “You heard my fiancé.” Mike gestured at the guy. “Chop, chop.”
    The blond shook his head, but did actually reach to a top shelf. “Did you rob the food stamp bank or something?”
    “I can’t see how this is your business,” said James, leaning into the warmth of Mike’s body. He missed being close to someone else like that.
    “Exactly.” Mike nodded and hugged James tightly. “But if you want to know, I’m paying cash.” He pulled out his wallet and waved it at the man. “Just like I did for my new Jaguar.”
    James chuckled and covered his mouth not to sound too loud. He didn’t know whether it was the stress of being a part of this scheme, or whether it really was that funny. “You sound like you’re trading in drugs.”
    “What the hell is going on with you? Not enough to be a fag, now you gotta be a drug dealer as