“GET YOUR FEET OFF MY desk.” Kurt said, a smile tugging at his lips.
The man in his chair rolled his eyes but he swung his desert ankle-booted feet off Kurt’s desk. He widened slightly slanted, pale brown eyes, flanked by extremely long lashes. “This is the welcome I get.”
“Whatever, man.” Kurt chuckled. “You’re sitting in my chair. That should be enough.”
The man glanced around Kurt’s office and then nodded. “I like the new décor. It’s been a while since I’ve come here.”
Kurt buried his hands into the pockets of his patterned blue trousers. “You’re never in one place for long, Barak. That’s the life of a supermodel.”
“Hmm. I’m getting tired of the life.” Barak said, gliding up and out of Kurt’s chair.
“Ach nee... you’re not joking?” Kurt stared at the twenty-eight year old, six-foot
