Page 16 of VIP

I shrugged, laughing. I probably should’ve been more worried about appearances, but I couldn’t be bothered. Arlo was too adorable when he was embarrassed. Before he could retreat and hide in the bathroom again, I snatched up his hand and tugged him through the open door to the balcony. We were high enough above the city that the evening’s traffic noise was in the background, and the night sky was coming to life above us, stars doing their best to twinkle through the light pollution. Pulling out a chair, I nudged Arlo forward until he lowered into it. He clasped his hands in his lap, clearly out of his element.

Too many people would’ve taken advantage of this scenario. Yes, I was paying him handsomely to play pretend with me, but I’d also offered to lavish him with gifts, and all it had done was make him uncomfortable. He clearly wasn’t accustomed to luxury, but on the flip side, he didn’t seem to want to abuse it either.

Ignoring that my place had been set across the table from Arlo, I dragged my chair around to sit beside him, and without even blinking, the staff smoothly slid the plate over in front of me. “I apologize, we weren’t made aware of any dietary preferences or allergies for your guest, so if you would prefer something else, please let me know. This evening, you may like to start with our signature crab bisque, with Caesar salad and garlic bread. There is also herb-roasted squash and sweet potato, and for the main course, pearl lobster and seared Kobe steak. For dessert, we have cannoli.”

Arlo’s eyes seemed to get larger as the meal was outlined, and a bowl of soup was placed in front of him. His jaw seemed to wag a little as he struggled to find the right words.

“Would you like me to stay and serve you?” Joseph asked.

I glanced over at Arlo and saw his lips thin into a hard line. “No, thank you, Joseph,” I told him. “I’m sure we’ll manage.” He let himself out, leaving me alone with Arlo, who’d gone tense again.

“This is too much,” he whispered, frowning down at his food. “Seriously, I would’ve been fine with a hotdog from the cart down the block.”

I pursed my lips in thought. “Now that you mention it, a hotdog sounds good. Shall we go?” I asked, already pushing my chair back, but Arlo snapped out a hand and grabbed my arm.

“No! I mean, the food’s already here, so it would be a waste not to eat it… right?” His eyes moved over the array of dishes. “And it does smell pretty good…” He bit his lower lip, undecided. He wanted the food, but he didn’t want to want it.

“It’s okay, you know,” I said, plucking a crouton from the salad and holding it up between us. “To enjoy nice things, I mean. You don’t need to feel guilty about it.”

He eyed the crouton I offered then slowly leaned forward and opened his mouth. I popped it in, enthralled by the way his lips closed around it, brushing against my fingers for a too-brief moment. His tongue darted out, licking the corner of his mouth.

When he was done chewing, he picked up his spoon and dipped it into his soup, seeming to have made the decision to eat. “It’s not guilt, exactly,” he said. “It’s about necessity. So many people are struggling to make ends meet, and I guess I don’t see the point in all this.” He huffed. “Why did you pick me?”

“What do you mean? Besides because we were caught groping each other in a parking lot?” I smirked, and my teasing seemed to lighten the mood slightly.

He shook his head, chuckling. “Yes, besides that. Nothing about me fits with the picture you’re trying to portray. Between my long hair and my earring, I’m also broker than broke. Nobody is going to believe you’re slumming it with me.”

“I’d like to think money doesn’t make the man, and you’re a pretty incredible man all on your own.” This gap between our incomes was really getting under his skin. “Would it make you happy if we ate more simply?” I took a sip of my wine, trying not to think about how much this bottle cost. Probably best if I didn’t tell him.

He sighed, then had to stifle his groan of pleasure when he took the first spoonful of bisque. “Damn, that’s good,” he admitted reluctantly. He lowered his spoon for a second, seeming to gather his thoughts. “I don’t want you to pretend to be someone you’re not,” he said, his words stilted. “I don’t mean like your job, but in your life. It makes me sad that you’ve felt the need to hide, to create this whole persona.” He took another slurp of soup and closed his eyes in bliss. “I guess I’m just a little worried about how easy it would be to lose myself, to forget with you… that I’m just playing a role.”

“Mm.” I thought that over. He didn’t want to forget who he was? But he was already perfect. When I thought of him changing who he was just for the sake of social media, it didn’t sit right with me. Yes, it was kind of what I was doing, but when it was him, it made my skin crawl. It made me want to protect him in some way, to preserve the kind, funny, sexy man he was. A tiny spark of light bloomed in my mind, and while I knew it was a risk, I couldn’t help the idea that began to put down roots. “So… what if we made a new rule for your list. What if…we agreed not to pretend while we’re together.”

He paused in chewing his bite of salad. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like behind closed doors when no one is watching, what if we are just two men, Max and Arlo. Nobody tells us who to be. We eat the hotdogs, we tell raunchy jokes, we watch porn if we want.” He laughed, and I took that as encouragement to keep going. “And… wouldn’t it be wrong not to indulge in our darker desires, if that’s who we are on the inside?”

Those gray eyes of his flicked up to mine, showing a hint of intrigue. “How dark are we talking about?”

I shrugged. “Nothing too dirty. Just a little gray, really.”

His breath hitched, and the next time he raised his fork, it seemed to wobble a little in his hand. “Would I need a safe word?” My cock twitched.

“If it makes you more comfortable, but I don’t want to hurt you. If you want to scream my name, though, I wouldn’t complain.”

He smirked. “Just so we’re clear, I think this is the worst idea ever, but… okay.”

“Okay?” I repeated. I honestly hadn’t expected him to throw his rules out so quickly. My cock, now given the green light, hardened painfully fast, and I reached down and squeezed myself into obedience.

“My safe word is hotdog, just in case,” he said. “But I’m finishing this meal first… and having a shower.”

In unspoken agreement, we both tucked into our meal and finished it in record time. We had more important things to do.

11

Arlo

My stomach might’ve been full, but my appetite was far from sated.

---