Page 11 of Ready to Cash Out

“Do you really think you can give me what I want?” Jupiter’s voice dropped to a hypnotic growl. “Can you fulfill my darkest desires? Will you be totally and utterly mine?”

“For tonight, sir, I’m whatever you want me to be.”

“Excellent.” Jupiter hummed thoughtfully, reaching around to unsnap the hooks of Trev’s bralette one-handed.

Trev shrugged his shoulders so that the bralette would fall to the floor. His cock was hard, straining the lace of his tiny thong. He was done with talking. He was dying to get his hands on Jupiter’s bulging muscles, especially the one between his legs, but he doubted Jupiter would undress beyond what was necessary to fuck.

Hey, Trev could still dream.

Jupiter touched Trev’s chin again. “Stay just as you are, baby doll. You’re going to suck me first.”

“Yes, sir.” Trev’s mouth filled with spit from the mere thought of having Jupiter in it, and his heart pounded in a frantic rhythm, nearly as hard and fast as he hoped Jupiter was gonna fuck him.

Jupiter unbuckled his belt, and the drag of his zipper that followed was torturously slow. He clearly knew how much Trev wanted him, and this was a practice in sexual sadism.

But finally, finally, they were going to get to the real action. Whatever bullshit Jupiter had tried to weave about resisting Trev and peppering him with weird questions was crumbling in the wake of his clear lust.

Trev had won this game as far as he was concerned, and he couldn’t wait to?—

There was a knock at the door.

Trev ignored it.

Jupiter stopped just short of pulling out his cock, and he glared at the door.

The knocking turned into impatient banging that rattled the entire frame.

“The fuck?” Jupiter barked.

“It’s Emil! Come on!” a gruff male voice barked back. “Let’s go!”

“Is it him or not?” another male voice demanded. “You’re not supposed to be getting your fucking knob polished in there, all right?”

“Let’s go!” the first voice demanded. “Does he have the fucking heart thing or not?”

Trev’s blood froze.

The heart thing?

His birthmark.

No, there was no way…

Trev immediately peeled himself away, fumbling on his tall heels. He retreated until his back hit the far wall. “What the actual fuck is going on?”

“Shhh, calm yourself, baby doll.” Jupiter zipped his pants back up with a faint scowl. “Let me handle this.”

“Handle it, my ass!” Trev snapped.

“I think you meant, handle it, my ass, sir.”

“Fuck you!”

“Such language,” Jupiter tutted.

“Jupe! What’s the fucking deal?” The second voice sounded annoyed. “Can we come in or not?”

“You think he’s fuckin’ him?” the first one asked.

---