“I’m glad you think so.”
I leaned forward in pursuit of his mouth and swept his lips cautiously. They parted, and he took my tongue like he took my cock, eager and a little bit sloppy. I slowed and kissed him deliberately. There was no need for him to perform with me. Let us teach one another a new way, one that belonged only to us. I would demonstrate how wonderful I thought he was. And he could show me how to be wild and spontaneous. We could be good for each other and goodtoeach other.
Warm water dripped into our mouths, and I kissed him until we were both dizzy and half-drowned.
“Did you like that?” I asked and he nodded, strangely subdued. “If you don’t like something, tell me.”
“I will,” he said softly. Had he ever had a relationship that wasn’t predicated on money? Had he ever had the agency to say, no?
I shut off the water and we dried quickly. He followed me to the master bedroom where he wrapped his warm body around mine and kissed me again, open-mouthed and erotic. I sat on the edge of the bed, and Arden climbed onto my lap, long limbs ensnaring me like a grappling hook.
We made out like that for a while. My stubble left red blotches all over his face and throat, his smooth, unblemished skin made raw and tender by my touch. I sucked a bruise on the join of his neck, then another, marking him as my own. Our cocks sparred playfully, until Arden began grinding against me with purpose. He took my hand and sucked my forefinger to the second knuckle, then placed it at his entrance.
“You want that?” I asked, remembering the john’s affronted look.
“I want you. Tonight. Right now.”
I was too weak to argue or pretend I didn’t want that too.
“How do you want me?” I asked.
Arden crawled off my lap and lay flat on his back. His erection flopped against his abdomen. The bed was still made, and I didn’t bother rearranging anything as Arden gripped his legs under his knees and spread for me. His pucker was still pink and swollen. I didn’t know if he’d enjoyed the john, but he hadn’t gotten off from it. Did he ever on a job?
I’d make it good for him. Make him know the difference between a john and a lover. I grabbed a bottle of lube from my duffle bag and drizzled some of it on my fingers. I massaged around his opening, probing delicately to make sure there was no damage. I thought about the man marveling at how greedy Arden’s hole was for his cock.
I didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to be anywhere but right here and right now. With Arden, alone. That was the only way this could work, and I wanted it to work, desperately.
“You like this?”Please tell me you aren’t straight.It didn’t seem that way from the blowjob I’d given him in his apartment, but I needed to be sure.
“Yeah. I like being fingered. Toys too.”
“You like bottoming?” He nodded. His eyelids were heavy, and low moans kept escaping him, unbidden. His damp hair framed his gorgeous face as he watched me work, thighs trembling with anticipation. “Do you ever top?”
“Sometimes. You’re thick,” Arden sized up my cock. “It was hard to get my mouth around it.”
“You did a good job.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said smugly.
I didn’t want to think about all the cocks he’d had in his mouth, but I couldn’t separate the two either. That had been the point of Arden’s lesson. He wouldn’t let me ignore that he was a sex worker. What they did and how they did it—how often—all of that was out of my control. All I could command was his body, here and now. I’d make the most of it.
His muscle was relaxed, still a little loose from earlier, so I edged two fingers inside. Arden raised his hips and let out an ecstatic moan.
“I knew who you were,” he said in a rush. “At that book signing where you spoke. I wanted to meet you.”
I stared at him, realized I’d paused, then started up again. I aimed for his sweet spot, secreted away like buried treasure. There, along the smooth wall of his rectum, I found that walnut-sized bundle of nerves and massaged it with my fingertips. Arden twisted on the bed like he was bound in ropes.
“How’s that feel?” I asked as I circled and stroked his gland.
“Amazing. Don’t ever stop.”
“Did you spill wine on me on purpose?” I was flattered that he’d been seeking me out in the first place.
“You spilled the wine. I was working up the courage to introduce myself when you came barreling my way.”
Serendipity.
“Why didn’t you give me your name?” I nudged him again, and he whined like a puppy, one hand reaching for his cock. I guided it to his nipple instead, and he pinched, transforming the pale pink nub into an angry red.
