Page 2 of Five Days

He hadn’t taken my refusal to break him in too well but hadn’t given me time to explain that I did want him—once he came of age and I wouldn’t get thrown into jail. I’d had no plans to leave our neighborhood once I’d graduated in two months, no thoughts of ever abandoning the kid who’d owned my heart.

And kinda still did no matter how hard I tried taking it back from his selfish grip.

True to himself, he’d thrown a nutty like the spoiled brat he was whenever he didn’t get his way, not giving me a chance to assure him that I would claim his hole—eventually. His hollering and crying had drawn attention. His father, the senator, had crashed into my room, getting an eyeful of me trying to restrain his son from punching me for the fifth or sixth time.

It didn’t matter blood ran from my broken nose or that I was innocent. I lay atop my foster brother, my hands wrapped around his forearms and pressing him to the bed.

The little shit’s screams of rage that he never wanted to see me again were the icing on the cake for his dad to assume the worst.

The senator had sent his son back to his own room, and the kid continued to rant his hatred of me until his bedroom door slammed closed behind him. Rather than pressing charges and dragging his family into negative drama, the senator had told me to leave. I’d had a single bag of belongings and a grand in cash he’d given me. Probably to make him feel better for tossing me from his home after acting as a parental figure for the previous seven years.

Things hadn’t gone well for me after I’d left Rhode Island.

I’d made do on my own, eventually escaping the streets thanks to a real job that allowed me to rent an apartment. It had taken me over a decade, but I’d risen from the ashes, and I prayed like hell some money-hungry asshole didn’t fuck up the good life I’d managed to create for myself.

Body still tensed into knots, I pulled into the parking garage for my condo’s building off Storrow Drive. A few months after starting at EEMM, I’d been lucky to get a steal of a deal that included a living room view of the Charles River. While not as high-end as Drake or Sean’s condos, I loved my place. It seemed like a real home with its comfortable furniture and older appliances.

It was also within walking distance of the shelter I volunteered at, the place that had kept me out of the cold, rain, and snow for longer than I cared to remember. I donated cash too since I had more than enough to live a meager existence while those less fortunate went without. Giving back offered me a sense of satisfaction, and I hoped they saw my actions as proof someone cared. I sure as fuck hadn’t felt the sentiment while I’d been homeless.

I trudged through the hallway to my condo, let myself into the dim interior, and went straight for my bathroom. A client had booked me for the evening, one of my regulars, someone I trusted not to call a bullshit foul against my character.

Rarely did I need help in pleasing clients, but after manscaping, showering, and trimming my permanent scruff, I popped a little blue pill. Better to be safe than sorry.

I shouldn’t have worried though.

Jamie met me at the hotel’s door, his country-boy good looks and muscles hot as fuck. And a white-toothed smile lit his blue eyes, stirring lust that would ease my mind for a time.

Nothing about this night would be a chore.

The soft cushion of Jamie’s lips met mine before I even kicked my shoes off, his hands greedy at my groin, making quick work of my button and zipper to get at my cock.

“Oh fuck, yeah,” he groaned into my mouth as his hand wrapped around my thick length. “Been too fucking long, man. Need this dick.”

“Whatever you want,” I assured him as I did every client, but I couldn’t have been more pleased to have him after the news I’d gotten earlier. Jamie never failed to meet me with hunger, an equal give and take that left me physically satisfied every time.

With a curse, he pulled away from me and yanked his shirt off, revealing ripples of muscle honed from years of playing football. He’d come down to Boston College on scholarship from some small town in the sticks of New Hampshire.

Other than that? I knew the guy could suck cock like a pro. Had a tight, hot hole he enjoyed having stuffed full. He also had a nice, thick dick for when the time came to flip.

Jamie’s knees hit the floor, his hands pulling down my jeans mid-thigh.

“Jesus,” I hissed, head tipping back as his wet mouth closed over my cockhead. “Fuck, did I need this.”

He hummed in agreement, his short hair prickling my palms as I clasped his head, allowing myself to get lost in the feel of his slick tongue and suction.

When I’d first sold my body, I’d been the one on my knees. Upon signing with Elite, I’d expected the same but had been thrilled to find those willing to pay for better service than a back-alley blowjob tended to have all sorts of wishes and kinks.

The extortion issue slammed into my brain, and I gritted my teeth, pulling Jamie off my dick when I should have let him have whatever he desired, what he paid for.

“Want your ass, Jamie. Now.”

Pupils already blown, he nodded up at me. “I’m not the only one needy tonight, huh?” he asked with a smirk while pushing to his feet. A quick shove sent his jeans to the floor.

He’d gone commando, same as always.

And his cock reached for his belly button, pre-cum welling at the tip.

“Fuck yeah.” I moved in close, palming his erection, smearing my thumb through his slickness. “Wet for me already.”

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