something solid. Jared imagined Rolex getting comfortable
as he watched them, but Jared didn’t look. He kept his eyes closed. It was so much easier to get wrapped up and lost in Tristan’s kiss like this, with precious little to distract him.
Not that much could distract him from a man who kissed
like this. Aggressive, deep, but focused. As if he wasn’t out to get his tongue down Jared’s throat or just crush their lips together. Everything he did was deliberate and calculated, from the way he teased the corner of Jared’s lip with the tip of his tongue to the way he cupped the side of his neck and ran his thumb back and forth along Jared’s jaw. Or the way his other hand drifted down the front of Jared’s shirt and found his nipple and teased it, making little circles with his thumb that were so subtle the john couldn’t possibly have seen. Oh, 14
yes, Tristan was performing for their wealthy voyeur, but he was enjoying this, and he was making sure Jared did too. It was more than giving a coworker a hand, it was almost like Tristan was doing it for his benefit. And that thought was hotter than hell. Wow, he’s into me?
“What does . . .” The john exhaled hard. “What does
another two hundred get me?”
Tristan broke away just enough to respond with a simple
“More.”
“How much more?”
Tristan’s lips left Jared’s, and he dipped his head and
descended on Jared’s neck. He teased Jared’s nipple with his thumbnail as he spoke. “If you like what two hundred’s gotten you,” he murmured, his breath hot on Jared’s throat, “then another two hundred will be worth it, yes?”
Something rustled. Then smacked. Jared and Tristan both
looked at the john, whose hand was on top of a few flat notes on the table.
“All right. Two hundred more.” He squirmed in his chair.
“Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Don’t overstretch, Jared silently pleaded, then jolted when Tristan slid his fingers under his shirt up to the same nipple. With no fabric barrier this time, this unhindered— uncensored—contact was insanely intense, especially the scrape of his thumbnail, and Jared gasped. It was completely stupid to get so worked up over such a simple touch, but Tristan had been the object of Jared’s lust for a long time now, and this was the first time in recent memory Jared had been this damn turned on, and what they were performing for their audience felt increasingly real. Their audience of one, 15
anyway, and this was for money, but damn, some things he
just couldn’t fake.
Maybe the john was into the real thing. Maybe he could
tell the difference. Maybe that was what he was paying for, and what Tristan was deliberately giving him at the expense of Jared’s sanity.
Jared pulled off his shirt, and then claimed Tristan’s
mouth again. He yelped when Tristan tweaked his nipple,
and then rubbed the pain-hard nub back into his chest, just to tease him more. Jared felt the world shift, and then he was fal ing backwards, pul ing Tristan down with him. Tristan didn’t resist, and they quickly tangled up again like fumbling teenagers.
Tristan spread his legs wide open over Jared’s groin, and
he briefly lowered a hand to pull Jared’s legs apart. Yeah, the show. From where the john sat, that was an eyeful of tight arse and two bulges, still very much clothed, but the angle would most definitely inspire the man.
Tristan broke the kiss and then sharp teeth nipped—
again—at Jared’s chest. He arched, turned on way too much; he just wanted to get all his clothes off and deliver the full porn show right now.
Fuck me right now. We’ll settle up the money later. Just fuck me. In absolutely no hurry, apparently, Tristan rolled Jared’s other nipple between his teeth until Jared damn near pleaded for mercy. He gripped Tristan’s ink-black hair, tempted to force him lower, unzip his own trousers, and see if what he’d heard through the grapevine was true.
Tristan paused again, and gave Rolex a sly look.
“Come on, take the shirt off,” the man said. He was
starting to negotiate—probably a bad sign. Though Jared
16
was halfway glad he had a moment to catch his breath. God, he wanted Tristan. The confidence, the skill, that ferocious hunger that was somehow so controlled. Now more than ever, Jared understood why the guy was usually booked.
Hell, add me to his regulars. I’ll find the money somewhere.
“You want the other shirt off,” Tristan said, slightly out of breath, “it’s going to cost you.”
“This is all an extra two hundred buys me?” It was hard to tell if he was annoyed or being playful.