Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
My head spun, and I saw stars behind my eyes. Then his hands were on my face, and he kissed me. It was a mix of water and the taste of me, and then he was shutting the water off. I was still lightheaded when I stepped out of the shower, but I couldn’t miss his erection. I dried off quickly and wrapped a towel around me, and even as he was still towelling himself off, I snatched up his hand and led him back to the bedroom. “Your turn,” I told him. “Lay down.”
He sat on the bed and scooted back. Then he propped up the pillows and leaned back, adjusting them so he was almost sitting up. “What?” he asked when I laughed at him. “I want to watch.”
I knelt on the bed and edged up between his open legs. He truly was gorgeous. I wasted no time in returning the favour. I lifted his heavy cock and licked from his sac up to the head, eliciting a hiss from him.
When I tasted his slit, his breath hitched, and then he moaned when I took him into my mouth. He was so vocal, every reaction was a reward for my efforts, and it spurred me on. As much as I wanted to prolong it, to draw out every sound from his lips, I wanted to taste him even more.
His hands found purchase in my hair, and he had no qualms in showing me how he liked it. Fuck. And when I looked up at him, he was biting his bottom lip, and his chest was heaving. His eyes were smouldering and locked on where his cock disappeared into my mouth.
“Oh, God,” he ground out. “I’m gonna come.”
I sucked harder and pumped his shaft until he flexed under me and shot into my throat with a raspy cry. His whole body shuddered and jerked as his orgasm swept through him, and only when he slumped back onto the pillows and squirmed did I release him.
I kissed his nipple, which made him chuckle, and then his lips, which made him hum. I grabbed the bedcovers and pulled them up and lay down beside him in the nest of pillows he’d made himself. He snuggled in, I put my arm around him, and with just a few deep breaths between us, we dozed.
It had been a really long time since I’d lain in bed and just slept with a man. Normally I only ever spent time in bed with a guy for sex and sex only, but this was… nice.
Really, really fucking nice.
It was warm and comforting and safe.
It was hard to get my head around the fact I didn’t even know this man two weeks ago. Even more so, that up until yesterday, I was still trying to get him back with his ex. Not that I was trying overly hard—it was the last thing I actually wanted. God, I wanted him for myself, and here he was in my bed. In my arms.
And it all started because he paid me to get him back with his ex, and I wondered if the exchange of money made this weird.
Like he could read my mind, he said, “Um, about the contract…”
I sighed. “Can we just rip it up?”
He lifted his head up and looked at me. “I still owe you money.”
I barked out a laugh. “Ah, no you don’t. In fact, I think I should give you back what you paid me already.”
He shook his head. “No, you don’t need to do that.”
“I’d feel better if I did,” I told him honestly.
“But you did your job. Everything you planned to happen, did.”
“I didn’t plan for you to pick me,” I corrected gently. “I wanted you to.”
He chuckled. “Wrong word choice, sorry. But you still did your job.”
“I can’t take your money.”
“Spencer, you still have bills to pay, food to eat.”
“I’d feel… wrong, if I took it.” I cringed.
His eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”
“I dunno,” I hedged. “Like a rent-boy or something.”
Andrew’s mouth fell open. “Oh, Spencer. No.”
“Yep,” I grinned at him. “A rent-boy, paid for services rendered.”
“What does that make me?”
“My pimp.”
He laughed. “Gee, thanks.”
I snorted. “Better being the pimp than the hooker, I guess.”
He made a thoughtful face. “Depends. At least the hooker gets laid.”
I cracked up laughing. “And to think you said Eli wasn’t too interested in sex. I’m starting to think the man was crazy.”
Andrew was quiet then, and I wondered if I’d said the wrong thing. “Well, it kind of makes sense if his whole agenda for living with me was to take the original prints.”
“He said he didn’t, though, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Funnily enough, I do. He was genuine when he admitted that.”
“How was he, last night?” I asked. “When you told him.”
“He wasn’t too surprised, I don’t think. He looked disappointed.”
“So he should be.”
“He said he’d seen us together before, that time at the bar for his friend’s birthday.” He sighed. “The whole thing is a bit of a mess, but to be honest, I’m glad it ended the way it did because I got to meet you.”
I gave him a bit of a squeeze. “Me too.”