“Seems like an ethical approach.”
“Mostly because things can go wrong very quickly, and I don’t need an angry spouse coming after me with a meat cleaver screaming how I’ve wrecked their finances.” Jason’s tone was light, but still serious enough Blake assumed the image wasn’t all that far-fetched.
“Hence identifying the high rollers from the start.”
“It’s a poker game. If I see them twitch at what I charge, I put on a totally different game. It’s better that way for everybody.”
“It appears to be working for you. The game, the business, the whole nine yards.”
Jason nodded. “I won’t be able to do it forever, but by the time I ‘retire,’ I’ll have a fair amount of money, so . . .” He half shrugged.
“You should consider investing it. Make the money work for you.”
“Oh, it works for me.” Jason winked, and they both laughed. “No, I know what you mean. I honestly don’t know much about all of that. But yes, I probably should.”
“I could help you. Direct you to people who know better than I do, anyway.” Blake chuckled. “I don’t think we’d be discussing portfolios and investments while we’re naked in bed, but . . . I can give you a few ideas.”
“Maybe next time you’re in town.” Jason paused. “I usually don’t ask much about my clients, but I have to admit I’m curious too. Why are you here? In bed with a prostitute, I mean?”
“It’s simpler this way.”
“Simpler? So, less relationship drama?”
“Well, that and . . .” Blake sighed, shaking his head. “The last few guys I dated turned out to be gold diggers. Completely in love with my wallet, but they could take or leave me. At least like this, I know it’s the money, and there’s no false pretenses.”
“Don’t you get lonely?”
“Don’t you?”
“Touché.” Jason settled back against his pillow again, but kept a hand on Blake’s arm. “Sometimes, yeah, but most boyfriends don’t stick around past the whole ‘I’m almost there, wave a tenner in my face so I can come’ thing.”
Blake laughed, but quickly clapped a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
“No, no, it’s okay.” Jason laughed too. “It’s not quite that crude, but you get the idea. The money fetish gets old, and so does the ‘I want a boyfriend, not a whore’ discussion.”
Blake winced. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. So I stick to this. And as long as London is a bustling center of financial bullshit, I’ll have a steady stream of well-dressed, loaded companions.” He grinned. “Present company included.”
“Well, if you’re still at Market Garden when I’m back in town, I will definitely be looking for you.”
“I’ll be there. Unless Frank suddenly decides to shut the place down . . .” He shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Blake watched him for a moment. “From anyone else, that would almost sound sad, but from you, it doesn’t.”
“It’s not sad. I love what I do. I get paid. I get off . . .” Another shrug. “What’s not to love?”
“Coining a new definition of the term ‘job satisfaction.’ Now I hope all clients are nice.”
“Some aren’t—but these days I’m much better at spotting the over-the-top alpha type. And we whores talk. But most johns are nice. Some just don’t want to eat or go to the theater alone. A while ago, a guy paid me for company while he was getting over the flu. Picking up his medication and getting chicken soup into him was all I did.”
“Poor lonely bastard.”
“Well, yeah.” Jason shrugged. “That’s one thing I don’t want to end up as. Somebody who has nobody else to talk to and nobody gives a shit whether he lives or dies.” He kissed Blake. “Any family?”
“Not married, no children. Three siblings scattered around the States.” Blake paused. “You?”
“Siblings, parents, none anywhere near London. I’m closer to some of the other whores.”
“Speaking of which, what else did Tristan and Jared say? About me?”
“Well, that you’re hot and that you don’t get unpleasant. A very good client to have. Oh, and that you like watching.”
“I do. Especially those two. They had excellent chemistry. Still have it, I’m sure.”
“Oh, they do. They’re quite a pair.” Jason smiled. “They said you like a bit of a game, so as one game player to another, I was interested. Thought maybe I could learn some tricks.”
Blake laughed. “I don’t think I have anything to teach you.”
“You never know. But either way, they were right.” Jason trailed a finger along the front of Blake’s thigh. “You’re my kind of client.”
“Well, expect plenty of repeat business when I come back, then.”
Jason slid closer and ran his hand up Blake’s thigh, almost brushing his cock in the process. “When do you come back?”
Blake started to speak, but when Jason’s hand drifted downward again, a fingertip “accidentally” grazing his hardening cock, he shivered. “I’ll . . . be back in a month or so.”