“Not your fault, is it?”
Liam supposed not. The film’s opening credits lit up the room, casting a shadow across Zac’s face. On impulse, Liam untied the oldest bracelet on his wrist and held it out to him. “This is from the first festival eight years ago. I still have a bunch of them at the house in Holkham, so you can have this one if you like.”
“Eight years ago?” Zac glanced at Liam’s arm, clearly counting bracelets and doing the maths. “So you don’t go every year?”
“Missed the last two. Shit happens.”
That was one way of putting it, but Zac didn’t seem interested in the details. He tied the bracelet around his own wrist and rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Liam let him be for a while, distracted by the firecracker gunfire from the film. He hadn’t seen Young Guns in years, not since he’d taped over Rosa’s favourite Take That video with it and had a remote control chucked in his face for the privilege. Had it been worth a black eye? Looking at it now, he wasn’t sure.
“Do you want me to stay?”
Yes. “I do, actually, if you don’t mind?”
“Of course I don’t mind. You paid for the overnight.”
“So? Doesn’t mean you have to stay. Thought we’d covered this?”
Zac shrugged. “I don’t understand you. I haven’t worked for anyone like you before.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Liam wasn’t about to admit it was because he had no idea how he was supposed to behave with a hooker he’d hired for the whole night. Should they be fucking again already? Was it weird for them to sleep in the same bed? Or, indeed, sleep at all?
“It’s not bad,” Zac said. “I’m just not used to johns being so normal. Last one I stayed the night with left me tied up on the dining room table while he fell asleep on the couch.”
A cold pang squeezed Liam’s heart. He knew Zac had other clients—johns—probably loads of them, but imagining other men—and women—putting their hands on him, fucking him, making him gasp and moan, did odd things to Liam’s gut.
“I don’t even get to come, not properly, anyway, not like with you.”
“Properly?” Liam felt slightly high.
Zac turned his head to look at him. “I can fake it well enough if they particularly want me to come. Most times they don’t bother to check.”
“Have you ever—” Liam stopped. Was he really about to ask if Zac had ever pretended to come with him? Did he even want to know?
Zac’s hand on his face startled him. “I’ve never faked it with you. Chance would be a fine thing. You only have to look at me and I’m ready to bust.”
Liam closed his eyes and pictured the last time he’d seen Zac come, in the shower, painting the tiles without either one of them touching his dick. He couldn’t fake that . . . could he?
“Can I take my jeans off?”
Liam opened his eyes. “Um, sure. Should I take mine off too?”
Zac cast Liam a sideways glance. “If you want. I always sleep in the nude, don’t you?”
So they were going to be sleeping. Liam wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. He stripped his jeans and tossed them over the side of the bed, then crawled his way to the right end and got under the covers, gesturing for Zac to do the same.
Zac hesitated briefly before he did just that. Liam absorbed his presence and tried to pretend he wasn’t there for cold, hard cash. This bed, like the one at the house, was brand-new, slept in only by Liam, but he’d missed the warmth of another body stretched out beside him so much his bones ached with the weight of it. He’d never known loneliness could hurt.
“Do you want to fuck me again?”
Liam studied Zac’s face, taking in his barely dry hair flopped over his forehead and the subtle shadows under his dark-green eyes. The crisp white bedsheets stood out against his brown hair, and in the dim light of the room he was utterly beautiful.
And, despite his catnap earlier, clearly exhausted. Liam tugged the duvet further up Zac’s slim body and shook his head. “Get some sleep, mate. I’ll bank that one for the morning.”
It was light when Zac woke to Liam gently shaking him.
“I wanna suck you. That cool?”
Hell yeah. Zac nodded sleepily, then jerked awake again to the earth-moving sensation of Liam’s mouth on his cock, and his dick hitting the back of Liam’s throat. “Fuck!”
