With his other hand, he steadied the straw. No suggestive stroking or up-down motion, but he looked right at Spencer while he sucked some of his cola up into his mouth. His eyes—green, stunning pale green—locked on Spencer’s, narrowing just enough to make Spencer wonder what was going on in that mind of his.
Nick swallowed his drink, paused to run the tip of his tongue around the end of the straw. Spencer suddenly wanted to loosen his tie. He gulped, which only made the tie and collar tighter.
Nick’s eyes darted towards Spencer’s throat. “How can you even breathe in that thing?” Before Spencer could choke out a response, Nick’s glass clinked on the table and those slim, staccato-tipped fingers reached for his neck.
One finger hooked the knot of the tie and pulled. With a swift, precise gesture, Nick undid the top button. And for some reason, Spencer still couldn’t fucking breathe.
“There.” Nick drew back, smirking. “Much better.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Spencer managed to grin. “Do I have to pay extra for that?”
Nick moistened his lips and turned his attention to the straw in his drink, which he’d pinched between his thumb and middle finger. “No. The first button’s complimentary.”
He covered the end of the straw with his index finger and withdrew it from his glass. The vacuum held the cola inside the straw, and Nick paused, letting the opposite end drip for a second, before he brought that end up to his lips. “Any more than that? We’ll have to discuss prices.” He slid the tip of the straw under his tongue, and lifted his index finger so all the liquid slipped out and into his mouth.
Yeah. The tie and col ar weren’t the problem. There wasn’t enough air in this room when Nick was around.
14
“So.” Nick slid the straw back into his drink. He sucked his index finger into his mouth and, watching Spencer’s eyes, slowly slipped it free. “What the hell is a man like you doing here?”
“Is that your way of asking what’s a nice guy like me doing in a place like this?”
“No.” He covered the end of his straw again and grinned at Spencer. “It’s me asking what exactly you’re looking for so I can decide how much you’ll pay me.”
God, but he was direct. Of course he wasn’t trying to sell anything or close the deal. It seemed that in Nick’s mind, the deal was already closed, and there was nothing left to do but sign on the dotted line, exchange money, and . . .
Holy fuck. He could afford it, that wasn’t a concern, but a night alone and naked with a man like this? Spencer would never have to give Percy details because there was no way he’d survive until morning. Or maybe Percy would have the good grace to leave him alone about it? Well, he could dream.
“Uhm.” He blew out a breath. “I’d be looking for a . . . a top.”There, he’d said it. Somehow, his concept of male whores involved them getting it up the arse all night—which sounded like a pretty good deal, though it was likely humiliating.
Maybe he’ll be rough.
Spencer clamped down on that thought quicker than he’d have stomped on a cockroach in his student accommodations—what, ten years ago?
Nick kept looking at him. “And?”
So that part of the deal was on. “I’m in charge.”
“You’re the customer. Of course you’re in charge.” Those lips quirked with the most devilish little grin that made 15
Spencer grateful he could just sit here for a while. That way, nobody had a clear view of his trousers.
“My place?”
“After you’ve done the membership application, yes.”
Nick nodded towards one of the guys at the bar. “There’s a background check, but they’re discreet.” The grin was still there, as if the whole thing was an elaborate prank.
“How quickly can they do it?”
“Pretty quickly.” Nick nodded over. “You can do that now.”Spencer hesitated, then figured Nick would probably wait those five or ten minutes, so he stood and headed over to the bar.
It took twenty-five minutes altogether, and he grew more and more impatient. Nick wouldn’t wait this long, would he?
But he had, chasing melting ice cubes around in his drink with the straw.
Spencer rejoined him in the booth. “All right. Paperwork is taken care of. So how much are we talking?” The implication—obligation?—in his own words rattled him.
Naturally, Nick wasn’t fazed at al . “Want an hour, half a night, whole night?”
“When do I have to decide that?”
Nick tsk ed. “Well, I need a baseline to give you a quote.
Personally, I recommend more than an hour, so we can get to know each other better.” And how did he manage to be so suggestive without waggling his brows or giving him a wink?
The inflection in his voice was so subtle the come-on was barely there.
Spencer exhaled. “Why don’t we start with two hours?”
Nick studied him for a little while. “Five hundred.”
“I beg your pardon?”
16
“Two hours. Five hundred quid.”
Spencer grinned. “You’re charging partner rates.” Not quite. At his firm, partners didn’t get out of bed for any less than ￡650 an hour. Still, nice little student job if you could get it. Of course, Nick might have to pay off the establishment, possibly a pimp.