Nick pushed his hips forward. “Lick the seam.”
Uh. Spencer stared at the guy’s groin right in front of his eyes, the flap of leather covering the zip. Somehow, specifying “seam” sounded dirty in his ears, but he moved that little bit closer, stuck his tongue out and gingerly traced the smooth leather. He could smell the zip from here, the metal ic tang, but the taste of leather was stronger, and he thought he could sense a growing bulge just a breath away. God, he hoped Nick was hung.
Cocky as he is, he has to be. Unless he’s compensating or— “That’s enough.”
The sharp comment straightened Spencer’s spine. He looked up.
The prostitute smiled, and an odd sense of relief rushed through Spencer, though somewhere in his body it crossed over a conduit and became electricity, and that electricity went straight down to his balls. So strange, being this off-balance and aroused at the same time. And one didn’t help the other at al : the more turned on he was, the more off-kilter he was. The more off-kilter, the more turned on. What the hell?
30
Nick leaned back a little and tilted his head, looking past Spencer’s face and farther down. The smile turned to another one of those mind-bending grins. “Well. Looks like I have plenty to work with, don’t I?”
Heat rushed into Spencer’s face as well as his groin.
“Thank you,” was all he could think to say, and he wasn’t sure why.Nick’s hand moved over Spencer’s cropped hair. The touch was surprisingly gentle. It put Spencer on guard because, knowing what he did about Nick, gentle could very abruptly become . . . not. At the same time, though, it was calming. Like an intermission, a moment Nick had granted him to catch his breath.
“How long has it been since you’ve been fucked, Spencer?”
Every muscle below Spencer’s waist tightened. “It’s . . .
a while. A few weeks, maybe.” Longer? He couldn’t even remember right now. Not since . . . at least not . . . what was the question?
“That long?” Nick’s tone walked that razor-fine line between playful and snide. “Though I suppose if it hadn’t been a while, I wouldn’t be here tonight, would I?”
“No.” Spencer closed his eyes and focused on those long, fine fingers moving over his hair in a smooth, calming rhythm.
“I guess that means I should be careful, shouldn’t I?”
Playful? Observant? Matter-of-fact? Fuck, Spencer couldn’t even tell. “Rough is one thing, but I wouldn’t want to—” He paused, and Spencer swore he could feel the man grinning.
“— really hurt you.”
“It hasn’t actually been—” Spencer’s mouth snapped shut.
I didn’t ask that echoed in his mind.
“It hasn’t actually been what?”
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He moistened his parched lips. “Hasn’t actually been that long since I’ve been . . .” He pulled in a deep breath and looked up at Nick. “Penetrated.” And why was he telling him that?
Nick’s job was to make him feel good—not self-conscious. He got enough of that elsewhere, if he really wanted it. And he didn’t. Yet he didn’t move away from his position.
“So you’ve been a naughty boy and put something up your arse by yourself. What size? Are we talking a banana, a couple fingers, or a silicone horse dick?”
Horse dick? What was the little bastard thinking? That he was into animals? “Uh. Normal size. Silicone. I don’t do food.”
Nick snickered. “Or have food do you.” He didn’t continue, but the silence was now definitely thoughtful. The caress continued, keeping him in place and calm, yet some of the tensions had returned with that last question. Nick was hitting his buttons to gauge his reactions, maybe. Get to know him, his temper, his responses. Damn, the guy was clever. One of the reasons why Spencer had stayed away from prostitutes was the idea that they were cheap and nasty and uneducated and that his hand (or a dildo) really could achieve the same results—for a lot less money.
I stand corrected.
“Show me your favourite.” Another straightforward order. Spencer made to get up, but Nick pressed down on his shoulder again. “Let’s go together.”
It was a bit of an awkward shuffle on his knees, but he made it to the nightstand. He had a small collection—six in total, but really only used three of them these days. The mid-sized, electric-blue, silicone dildo was the one he used the most; then a similar size in harder plastic that vibrated; and a studded steel dildo with a bulbous head. He used that last 32
one for “rough.” Just the size of the head could reduce him to a sweaty, writhing mess.
“Favourite?”
Spencer cleared his head and reached into the drawer, hand hovering for a moment. He picked the blue one. It was the most familiar, the one that required the least preparation.
Something about the brushed steel one made it look absurdly like a weapon.
“Hand it to me.”
Spencer lifted it up towards Nick’s hand. Nick brushed his fingers and took the dildo, examined it. “Why that one?”