Maybe he was here for the money—hell, since it sounded like he’d barely eaten all day and this was, after all, his job, I wassurehe was here for the money—but this moment,that smile, were real. They couldn’t be anything else. Feeding him… caring for him… the sweet, wonderstruck gratitude shining from his face as he softly thanked me again. None of that was part of his job. There was something inside this sweet, sexy boy that needed me in exactly the way I needed to be needed.
Kryptonite. There was no way I was going to send him home. I simply couldn’t… and if I was honest, I was pretty sure a part of me had known that from the start.
The boy hadn’t realized it yet, though.
“Um, what happens now?” he asked, biting his lip as if some of his nerves from earlier had crept back in.
“Do you still want to be good for me, sweetheart?” I asked, gentling my voice and trying to ignore what it did to me when relief flashed across his face. Relief andyearning… or at least, the practiced appearance of it.
No. I pushed that thought aside. I wasn’t going to spoil it. He wanted to stay.
“I do,” he said, tucking his bandaged thumb into his other palm and trembling like a leaf. “More than anything.Please. I want to… I want to do things for you, too? You’ve got me all night, if you want me.”
He said it with a shy smile, then dropped his eyes to my cock, just for a moment, just in case I didn’t understand what kind of “things” he meant.
Of course I wanted him. He was goddamn adorable, sexy as hell, and couldn’t have ticked more of my boxes with his shy innocence and eagerness to please if he’d tried. And I could let myself have this. I could lose myself in the fantasy that he wassincere, mine just for tonight. I could stop fishing for a truth I wasn’t going to find with a rent boy and, as my brother had suggested, simply enjoy what was in front of me for once.
It wasn’t in my nature, but then again, I was free now. Didn’t that mean I got to redefine my nature?
I unwrapped the chocolate that the boy had gotten hurt on, disposing of the wrapper and holding it up to his mouth.
“You didn’t get your candy, sweetheart,” I reminded him, my voice rasping as I rubbed it against his lips.
“Thank you,” he said, his tongue darting to lick it as his blush deepened.
My cock started to swell. Iwantedthis. I wanted to take care of him for as long as he was here with me, give him what he needed, and take everything he offered.
He licked the chocolate again, and I honestly couldn’t tell if he was being a little tease, or holding back to make sure he truly had permission.
“Take it all, sweetheart,” I said, teasing it between his lips. “Pull the whole thing into your mouth and suck. I want to see you enjoy your treat.”
He finally did, his cheeks pinking and his breath speeding up and those gorgeous, pale eyes of his darkening as his pupils expanded to fill the centers. He took it from my fingers, eyes on me the whole time, and I couldn’t look away.
“Good boy,” I murmured, entranced just as much by the enjoyment on his face as the sensual display.
I wanted this boy.Christ, did I ever. I wanted to finally find out what it would be like to see my cock encased in a mouth like that; learn what it felt like to hold a slim, strong body against me while I sank into the perfect ass advertised so well by those tiny, fuck-me shorts he wore; let his guileless eyes shine up at me like I was his everything while I played with him... pinned himunderneath me... sucked and licked and bit and goddamnownedhim, until…
Until my pre-paid time was up, and he stopped being mine.
I stood up abruptly, scrubbing a hand over my face and hating my brother, just a little, just for a moment, for having done such an outstanding job of giving me exactly what I wanted in a package not meant to be kept.
“Sir?” the boy questioned, placing a tentative hand on my thigh as he licked the last of the chocolate from his lips.
I snorted, but covered his hand with my own to keep it there. “You don’t need to call me that, sweetheart. This isn’tFifty Shades.”
“Sorry.” He blushed so damn beautifully. “Um, what should I call you then?”
I knew what Iwantedhim to call me, and it for damn sure wasn’t a “client.”
“What should I callyou?” I countered, not quite ready to let myself go all in yet. Not quite sure if having something temporary, something that felt so much like what I truly wanted, would be better or worse in the end. “I want your name, sweet boy,” I prodded him, deflecting that question for now.
He hesitated, maybe sensing that I wanted a hell of a lot more than that.
Or maybe trying to come up with a fake one.
“Yourrealname,” I said, holding his gaze and willing him to do what I told him to. “Don’t lie to me tonight, sweet boy.”
His eyes went wide, full of sweet sincerity as he grabbed my wrist with both hands and shook his head, holding on tight. “I wouldn’t. I won’t. Ihaven’t,” he insisted, either telling the truth or too damn good at this for me to know the difference.
