“What would your flavour be?”
Thomas blew out a breath. “I don’t think there’s an ice cream flavour to sum it up. I’ll have to make one.”
“Okay. Go on then.”
“I think I’d call it something like sex toys and control.”
Scott laughed until he felt light-headed, and his vision darkened at the edges.
Thomas pushed his head down and told him to breathe.
“What about you?” Thomas asked after a minute. “If you had to come up with an ice cream flavour to describe your sexual preference?”
Scott shook his head. “Iamthe ice cream.”
“Jesus. Keep breathing between your knees,” Thomas said. “You’re still high –”
“I’m serious. I’m whatever flavour the customer buying the ice cream needs me to be.”
“But what ice cream would you buy?”
“I wouldn’t buy one.”
Thomas made an unimpressed sound. “Do you have sex outside of work?”
Scott frowned. “No. Sex is my literal job. Why would I?”
“Because it feels good, Scott, that’s why.” Thomas furrowed his brow. “Have you ever begged someone for it?”
“Of course I have –”
“Not because they told you to, or you sensed that they’d like it, but because youhaveto have it. Youneedto come. You’re that turned on that you just want to let go, escape your own body for a while.”
Scott frowned.
Thomas laughed, but it was slow, and sad. “By that look on your face, you don’t even know what I’m talking about…”
“I’ve never needed it. Ineedmoney.”
“Life isn’t always about money.”
“That’s easy for you to say when you live in a mansion.”
Thomas sighed. “I’d give it all up for mind-blowing sex.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“It’s material goods, but it doesn’t fulfil me like great sex does, like finding someone compatible with your tastes, someone you could settle down with.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “And what makes someone compatible?”
“I need my sexual partners to beg me. I need them to be so turned on they lose all their inhibitions and beg a six-foot-tallsnaketo let them come, so my tastes are on the niche side. I fucking love getting people into that state. I love them wantingmeto finish them off.”
“They could be faking it.”
Thomas shook his head. His lips stretched into a smug smile. “They’re not.”
“Is that what Russell does?” Scott murmured. “Does he beg you?”
