Page 7 of Expensive

All I had to do was compliment him, and he’s ready to bend over for me. My arm instinctively pulls him in a little closer. He’s completely at my mercy in this moment, and he doesn’t even know me. I could be a horrible man, and he wouldn’t be able to resist me.

Who is going to take care of this vulnerable, beautiful man? He can’t be left to deal with his bond ache on his own.

“Don’t worry. I’ll give you some relief when we get to the hotel.” I promise. Just a quick hand job to take off the edge until we can get to know each other better.

“You don’t have to,” he says. “I can wait—”

I slip my fingers underneath the fabric of his shirt to thumb his bare back. “Shhhh, baby boy. I’m going to take care of you. Just relax.”

The man in the line next to us jerks his head to stare. I’m a well-known porn star, so I stopped worrying about strangers looking at me a long time ago. Andrew leans into me, his arm brushing against my side.

“Thank you, Daddy,” he whispers, but not quietly enough to prevent the man from hearing. The heady smell of his slick flares again.

Andrew obviously doesn’t mind if people hear me calling him baby boy. He even gets off on it.

I guide him forward to the boarding lane for first-class passengers. I look into his eyes as I hand the flight attendant my ticket. He stares back at me with hope. It’s obvious how badly he wants this—not just the sex but a connection with someone.

He gives the flight attendant his ticket. She scans it and tells us to have a good flight. As we walk onto the jetway, I ease my finger under the waistband of his jeans to tease his soft skin.

He shivers.

The sharp scent of his arousal becomes stronger. I wonder what his slick will taste like, how he’ll feel loosening under my tongue. Normally, I have a fair amount of control over my body. It’s an important part of my job. But just the idea of Andrew writhing underneath me makes me want to attempt a membership in the mile-high club.

Well, if I didn’t have one already.

Andrew and I take our seats near the front of the plane in the first-class section. I lift the armrest wedged between us and wrap an arm around him. He gives me a timid smile, then rests his head on my shoulder.

“This is nice,” he says softly.

Yes, it is.

Andrew falls asleep before the plane lifts off.

5

Andrew

I sleep better than I have in months. Lately, the bond ache has become so unbearable, I feel restless in bed. But Timber’s shoulder is firm, and his arm is sure. I don’t wake until I hear the snap of the overhead bins opening.

Are we already in Rixton? It was supposed to be a four-hour flight.

“Wake up, baby boy,” Timber says softly.

I sit up, but his arm still stays tightly wrapped around me.

“Feel better?” he asks.

“Yeah. Sorry. I was just—”

“You were exhausted. It’s good you got some rest. Now we can hit the beach.”

He smiles at me—not the way you’d smile at a stranger who’s hired you to have sex with them, but tenderly. I’m sure it’s my hormones that make me melt at that smile, but I melt nonetheless.

I sent Timber the location of our getaway and a loose itinerary of what I’d like to do a week ago. He told me he’d take care of the rest. Which I guess means we’re going to the beach.

After picking up my two large suitcases at baggage claim—to Timber’s credit, he didn’t tease me even though our getaway is only three days—he sends for a Lyft. I reach for the handles of my bags, but he grabs my hand and brings my fingers to his lips.

“I got them.”

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