“I know that feeling,” Liam said. “It happens when you work for yourself. There’s no one to tell you when you’ve done enough, so you keep going until you run yourself into the ground.”
“Is that what you do?”
“Sometimes, but my sister’s pretty good at reining me in.”
“I still don’t understand why you gave me eight hundred quid.”
Liam shot Zac a curious glance. He hadn’t seen Zac count the money. “I gave it to you so you can afford to take a night off, from me, or anyone else. Eat, sleep, er, rest . . .”
Jesus Christ. Why couldn’t you give him the money and shut the fuck up? Liam had no idea, and by the puzzled frown on Zac’s face, it was clear he didn’t either.
“I’m just saying you should have some time for yourself too.”
“I don’t know what else I’d do if I wasn’t working.”
“No? You don’t have anything else you’d rather be doing? People you’d rather be with? Family? Friends?”
Zac shook his head. “Don’t really have any.”
“No boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Girlfriend?”
Zac rolled his eyes. “Flippin’ heck. When did you get so nosy?”
Liam couldn’t think of a sensible answer, so he said nothing, and for a while, neither did Zac. Three miles had passed before either of them spoke again.
“Thank you,” Zac said finally.
Liam raised an eyebrow. “What for?”
“For the money. Being with you doesn’t feel like working. I’d do it for free if I could afford it.”
Liam grinned. “Yeah? Well that’s nice, though I reckon there’s not much I wouldn’t pay for the privilege of spending a few hours with you.”
“. . . there’s not much I wouldn’t pay for the privilege of spending a few hours with you.”
Zac almost pinched himself to check he was really awake, before the inevitable cynicism set in. Why on earth would Liam want to spend time with Zac? With his luxury flat and übercool camper van, it was clear he had the whole world at his feet. Nah, this was about the sex. It had to be.
Liam had fallen silent again, his eyes on the road. Zac pocketed the cash he’d been paid and settled back in his seat, slumping down on the pillows Liam had tossed to him. The duvet called his name, but he didn’t dare retreat beneath it. Warm and comfy was one thing, sleeping all the way to wherever they were going was something else altogether.
He let you sleep last time. Zac couldn’t deny that, but Liam seemed different today, more intense—if that were possible—and every glance he sent Zac pierced his soul. “Where are we going?”
“Sheffield.”
“I know that,” Zac said. “And I know you’re taking the van—Hettie—to the garage. What else is in Sheffield for you?”
“Work. My company has a factory there. I’ve not been up in a long while, so it’s time I showed my face.”
Zac couldn’t think why Liam would need a hooker with him for that, but he wasn’t about to question it. Perhaps he had an office he wanted to get naughty in, a desk to bend him over, a filing cabinet to push him against and fuck his brains out. Liam wouldn’t be the first john to pay him to perform a long-held fantasy. “What does your company make in the factory?”
“Clothes, mainly, and a few accessories. We make the boards in Newquay.”
“Boards . . . you mean surfboards?”
“Yep.”
