I almost laughed, a defensive reaction to the deep disappointment that slammed into me at his all-too-revealing response. Ofcoursehe’d be… accommodating, and my answer was easy. I wanted him to be old enough to ride my cock without putting me in jail. I wanted him to be old enough that I could touch him without worrying about committing sexual misconduct with a minor. I wanted him to tell me that he actuallywantedto be here, that he’d felt the same electric pull between us that I had, that he consented to every damn thing I longed to do to him, everything he’d offered me, and be old enough tomeanit. I wanted him?—
I scrubbed a hand over my face.
That was the problem. Despite every argument I made to myself, I wanted him, full stop. I still fuckingwantedhim, and I shouldn’t. I wanted him, but even if I took him, I could already tell that I’d never be content to give him up in the morning. To know he’d offer the same to other men after me. To live with the knowledge that it had all just been an act.
Not. How. I. Was.Wired.
I’d never felt possessive with a woman, not even the one I’d been married to, but this already felt light years different.
The boy peeked up at me through feather-fine lashes, his voice trembling. “Were you hoping I’d be younger, or… or older?”
“That’s not how this works,” I said sharply... although hell, it probablywashow this sort of thing worked. Hadn’t the boy said it himself? He’d do—and, it would seem,be—anything I wanted. But snapping at him, all because I couldn’t get over myself enough to just accept what was on offer or tell him to go, was... uncalled for.
I took a breath. Then another one. My too-harsh tone had already made those beautiful, rain-colored eyes of his start to well up with tears again, his entire body visibly thrumming with stress... and somehow, I couldn’t make myself believe his reaction was part of the act this time.
I’d done that. I’d fucked up, and I needed to get over myself and at least make it right.
“Sorry,” the boy whispered before I could apologize myself, looking down… which was somehow worse than the sight of those impending tears.
I needed liquid silver. I needed summer rainstorms. I needed toseehim.
I gave in and crossed the room, drawn like a magnet, and tipped his chin up. “No,I’msorry. I shouldn’t have been an asshole to you. That wasn’t fair. You’re just—” I forced my jaw to unclench, made myself smile, “—you’re just doing your job.”
He blushed, giving me a tentative smile in return. “I’m trying?”
Jesus. So responsive the moment I eased up on him. And the shy looks. That sweet innocence. The way his voice wavered, like a siren song tempting me to come ever closer, to take care of him, to keep and protect him… always.
I wanted all of it.
I wanted all of it to bereal.
“It’s just that it’s… it’s my first time,” he whispered, then blushed even harder as his eyes widened, as if he hadn’t meant to admit it… or as if he wanted me tothinkhe hadn’t meant to admit it, because look at him.Thatcouldn’t be true. He was too beautiful. He’d offered himself too readily. He knew exactly how to pull me in, and I couldn’t be the only one.
My teeth ground together at that harsh truth.
I couldn’t be the only one, but fuck if I didn’t want to be thefinalone.
“I mean, not… um, not the sex,” the boy said quickly, the words suddenly tumbling out of him in a hot, jumbled rush, as if he’d seen my reaction to his “first time” claim and known he’d gone too far to make it believable. “It’s not my first time with th-th-that, but… but I’ve never donethisbefore? I mean, with someone like you?” He dropped his eyes, shy and sweet again, as he whispered, “This is the first time I’ve ever had a… a client.” He peeked up at me through those almost invisible, ridiculously long lashes of his. “But I promise, I can do it. Whatever you want. Anything. And I can be good for you, do whatever you say. If you just tell me what it is you want me to?—”
“Stop,” I interrupted, my jaw ticking with frustration, with disappointment, with anger at myself for being such a damn fool and stillwanting.
He immediately snapped his mouth closed and swallowed, looking up at me like a deer caught in the headlights. And… fuck.
That wasn’t how I wanted him to look up at me.
A client wasn’t what I wanted tobeto him.
“Sorry,” he whispered again, the devastated look on his face so damn real-looking that I broke. Gave in. Manned up and finally admitted to myself that I was having a goddamn tantrum, whining about not getting everything I wanted, exactly the way I wanted it, when I could be taking my brother’s advice and just enjoying what I actually had while I had it.
Temporary may not have been my usual style, but it was still a hell of a lot more time with a boy like this than I’d ever thought I’d have. And if he wasn’t going to break character, then why the hellshouldn’tI enjoy it? Especially because I still couldn’t seem to make myself tell him to go.
Kryptonite.
“Listen—” I started.
The boy’s eyes instantly darted back to meet mine. He’d been looking past me. Fixated on… I turned. On what? The room was empty.
I looked back at him, and a hot blush stained his cheeks.
