Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
He’d expected a laughing brush-off to save Victor’s ego. Or perhaps an attempt to persuade, to command, to wheedle and convince Amani that he just had to give Victor a chance to find out what a nice guy he really was. He’d expected a lot of things, but not the abrupt and blunt question of:
“What about from someone you fuck?”
His stomach did an ungainly and rather startled flop; he stared. “Are you propositioning me?”
“I don’t…” Groaning, eyes closing, Vic sagged. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“It sounds like you’re asking me to teach you,” Amani said carefully. “How to be with a man.”
Winter-blue eyes lingered on him. “Maybe more than that.”
“Are you that genuinely curious about my particular kinks?”
“I’m that genuinely curious about you,” Victor countered, so very fervent that Amani thought he might almost mean it. “And you did say it relaxes you.” A one-sided, almost sad smile punctuated his words. “I’m desperately in need of some relaxation.”
“When I offer relaxation as a service, it’s in the form of a massage and it’s paid by the hour.”
Vic’s eyes widened. “What are you suggesting?”
What? Oh. …oh. He hadn’t meant that to come out like—he—oh, damn it. “What are you suggesting?” he threw back.
“Nothing!” Victor’s ears were red, and his voice actually cracked, before he cleared his throat. “It just…sounded like you were saying I could pay you by the hour for…”
Amani would never be able to explain what reckless impulse made him bold, in this moment. Maybe it was some secret buried part of him, longing for something different—something new. Maybe it was some inner need to rebel. Or maybe it was just the way Victor seemed to pull on him, when he fell into that flustered shyness so at odds with the polished corporate image he projected, until Amani just wanted to make a lovely mess out of him and leave him spent and gasping and dazed.
But he almost didn’t recognize his own cool, aloofly amused voice as he said, “I suppose you could.” His heart pounded, leaped, rolled, slammed as he gave Vic a quiet once-over from head to powerful shoulders to long, strongly corded legs, yet he tried to give nothing away as he continued, “It’s nothing I’ve done before, but plenty of people in kink circles offer their services for a price.”
Vic made a strangled noise. “Isn’t that prostitution?”
“So what if it is?” Amani shrugged one shoulder. “It’s the oldest trade in the world. There’s no shame in it. And when you specialize in something particular people need, shouldn’t you be paid for your unique skills?”
“I don’t know!” Vic spluttered. “How can you be so calm about this?”
I’m really not.
“I simply am.” Amani smiled, folding his arms over his chest and tapping his fingertip against his lower lip, letting another look linger over Vic’s flushed face, his dilated eyes. “But you’re rather adorable when you’re not. What happened to your charm, Victor? No easy lines for me now?”
“Are you enjoying flustering me?”
“Yes.” Amani circled the couch, slipping closer to Vic one measured step at a time, just to watch how Victor fell still, transfixed; just to savor how Victor’s breaths turned shallow and rapid as Amani drew near. “You don’t seem to understand, Victor. I enjoy seeing my lovers—my pets—completely undone. That means unraveling everything you think you are, and finding who you hide underneath.” He swayed to a halt in front of Victor, looking up at him. Victor’s pulse was a fluttering throb of temptation and pale skin, and Amani laced his hands together behind his back to resist the urge to touch even as he leaned in closer to the stone-still, petrified man. “Sex is just a gateway to that. Are you sure you want to be so exposed to yourself…or to me?”
Vic looked down at him with those pale blue eyes so stark, as if he didn’t know if he was staring at his salvation or his damnation. “I don’t know,” he whispered shakily. “But I want to find out. What’s your price?”
“Ten thousand per night,” Amani said firmly.
Victor’s next breath choked. “That’s robbery.”
“It’s knowing my value.” With a small smile, Amani reached up to finger the point in the plunge of Vic’s V-neck, fingernail just barely slipping past the cloth to touch skin—but the way Vic shivered, the way he licked his lips, was more gratifying than anything Amani had felt in some time. “And you’re willing to pay it.”
As if Amani had pulled his leash, Vic drew in closer, a rough, throbbing edge of desire darkening his voice. “How do you know that?”
“I know.”
In the stillness between them was the flavor of that kiss, the promise that if Amani wound his fingers in Victor’s hair and exerted even the slightest pressure, the man would be a wreck at his feet in a matter of seconds. The part of Victor’s lips, the subtle waiting tension in his body, promised he would beg so beautifully, beautifully enough that just the thought made Amani’s toes curl and his gut hot and his cock a sensitive ache between his thighs…and if Amani asked, right now, when this felt so raw and strange and full of potential, he thought Victor would give him more than money. More than obedience. More than he’d ever found in nameless one-night encounters.