“Er, I don’t know, maybe that you’d pull over and fuck me? Or get me to give you a bit of roadhead? I’m a hooker, Liam. You pay me to do that shit.”
The fury in Zac’s tone surprised even him, but Liam appeared unmoved, like raging toms shouted at him all the time. Perhaps they did. He’d never said Zac was the only one. “I thought I was paying you for your company.”
“But why? You have loads of people in your life who want to spend time with you. Why me?”
“Does it matter? I thought you’d enjoy the time off.”
“Why the hell would you think that? I like fucking you. Why else would I be here?”
“Er, I don’t know? Perhaps for the money?”
Technically, Liam wasn’t wrong, but then, he didn’t know that Zac had been looking forward to this encounter so much he’d been climbing the walls when he hadn’t been occupied with other johns. Didn’t know that the scant few hours of sleep he’d managed had been filled with dreams of how today might go, and none of those dreams had involved yelling at each other in a cramped camper van.
Zac slumped back in his seat, his irrational anger all but gone. The beer he’d drunk sloshed around in his belly and he felt a little sick, and cold too. Hettie’s heaters were whirring, but they didn’t seem to kick out much warmth. He closed his eyes, shivered, and rested his head against the window, wishing it was Liam’s shoulder. Sometime later, the duvet was tossed over him, covering everything except his left knee, which was taking most of the draft from Hettie’s rattling doors, but the stubborn streak that had got him this far in life kept him from stirring. From admitting he was awake and facing the puzzled disappointment he knew he’d find in Liam’s gaze.
From admitting that being so close to Liam and not touching him, exploring him . . . perhaps even kissing him, was driving him fucking insane. The cacophony of bullshit turned somersaults in his brain, but exhaustion crept over him like a snake in the grass, and, lulled by Hettie’s purring engine, he fell into a restless doze.
The cold blast of air to his face sometime later took his breath away.
Zac opened his eyes as the passenger-side door opened all the way and Liam released his seat belt. “Get out.”
“No.”
“Do it.”
Zac got out. “What the—”
Liam silenced him by pushing him into Hettie’s side panel and caging him with his arms. “What do you want from me?”
“What?”
“You heard me,” Liam growled. “I’ve paid you for your time—paid you well, by all accounts—but you’re not happy. Why? What do you need?”
“Need?”
“Need, want, whatever. Just fucking tell me.”
“I want you.”
Liam blinked. “What?”
“I want you.” Zac shoved Liam hard in the chest, making him stumble backwards. “I want you to fuck me. I want you to want to fuck me, and I want—”
“What?” Liam closed the distance between them again. “What else do you want, Zac?”
Fuck it. Zac seized Liam’s face and threw himself forward, catching Liam’s lips in a brutal kiss. Liam let out a grunt of surprise and froze, but then his arms came around Zac in a suffocating embrace and he returned Zac’s kiss, responding with his whole body, like kissing Zac was all he’d ever wanted.
Zac hit the van for a second time, jarring what breath he had left from his lungs. He gasped. Liam took advantage of it and swept his tongue into Zac’s mouth as Zac shoved his hands into Liam’s hair, twisting and tugging, searching for any kind of purchase with the world. His heart quickened, stampeding in his chest, and his blood roared in his ears. He’d had Liam’s tongue in places far more intimate than his mouth, but not like this. Kissing Liam was mind-blowing, and if he died right now, he wouldn’t give a flying fuck.
But he didn’t die, far from it. He hooked his leg over Liam’s hip and pressed his dick into Liam’s bulging crotch, moaning as the friction hit him, too much and not enough all at once until, too soon, Liam pulled away.
“Shit, shit, shit. I’m so sorry.”
“What? Why?’” Zac made a grab for Liam’s hands. “Why are you sorry?”
“You don’t do kissing.”
“I don’t kiss johns.”
