Page 17 of His Boys to Protect

Ward winced at the word. “Don't call yourself that.”

“But I am. And I absolutely hate it, but I don't really have a choice right now.” Skylar reached up and covered Ward's mouth with a hand before Ward could reply. “But tonight was like a dream. It was magical and beautiful and perfect.Pleasejust let me pretend it was real. Please. I need that.” He paused, then leaned close and closed his eyes again, whispering, “Daddy, please.”

Ward muttered a curse, dragging the boy into his arms. He gave Skylar another sweet, lingering kiss, and felt Skylar's little body melt against his.

When they finally pulled apart, Skylar looked almost drunk. A lazy smile pulled at his lips, and those stunning eyes of his were dark and heavy-lidded. He ran a hand back through his hair and nearly lost his balance. A soft laugh escaped him. “Sheesh, I didn't know anybody could kiss like that,” he murmured.

Then Skylar held Ward's gaze as he reached behind himself, feeling around for the door handle. He finally found it and pulled the door open. Skylar took a step back, never breaking eye-contact, like he was trying to memorize Ward's face or commit this moment to memory.

Skylar started to turn away and ran right into the door. He laughed at himself and shook his head, then looked at Ward again. His foot caught on the door, making him nearly stumble again, but he caught his balance and finally gained the hallway. He lingered there in the open doorway, still holding Ward's gaze.

“Goodnight,” Skylar whispered.

“Goodnight,” Ward whispered back. “Drive safe.”

Skylar nodded. He hesitated another moment, then finally tore himself away with a sigh, looking like it had taken a monumental effort to do so.

Ward couldn't resist peeking out into the hallway, watching the boy head for the elevators. Skylar moved slowly, almost unsteady on his feet. When the boy turned to press the button, Ward saw a soft smile on his face.

Skylar closed his eyes and touched his lips with his fingertips.

Ward muttered a curse. He grabbed the door frame, forcibly holding himself back. Every cell in his body screamed for him to stride down that hallway, grab Skylar, and tell the boy not to leave. Not now. Not ever.

But what good would that do? It wasn't like this had truly been real, no matter how amazing it had felt. And unless Ward made another appointment and came back up to the city, he'd probably never see Skylar again.

He had to let the boy go.

Chapter 8

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SKYLAR

SKYLAR STUMBLED down the street to his ratty old car, feeling drunk on Ward's kisses.

Holy Toledo in a hurricane. He touched his lips again, still feeling the pressure of Ward's mouth on him there.Hell, everywhere.Ward kissed like there was no tomorrow. It was an all-consuming passion, the likes of which Skylar had only read about in the sappiest of romance novels. Not the sort of thing one ever actually experienced in real life.

Except he had.

“Fuck,” Skylar gasped. He unlocked his car, tossed his garment bag into the back, then sank heavily into the driver's seat. Skylar had just enough presence of mind to lock the doors before he let his head fall back with a sigh, closing his eyes and mentally reliving his last sight of Ward.

He had to hang onto that. All of it. Chances were, he'd never see the man again. And even if he did, it wasn't like there could ever be anything truly real between them. Ward was a client. Nothing more.

But it sure had felt real.

Skylar whimpered, clutching the sides of his seat with both hands, fighting the urge to walk right back up to Ward's room. The man had made him feel soseen. Like he was an actual human being instead of just a dirty whore. Skylar had never been on a real date in his life, but he imagined this was how one would feel.

The thrill of something new. The excitement of discovery. Being someone's complete focus, like the rest of the world had simply disappeared. Charlie was the only other person in his life who made him feel that way, but even he didn't take it to the level that Ward had done. Skylar almost pinched himself, certain that he had to be dreaming.

Except he didn't want to wake up.

His phone beeped from inside the glove box, shattering the moment.Damn it. Skylar dug the phone out and checked the screen.

Fuck. He definitely wasn't dreaming now. The sight of a new text from Uncle Zeke was enough to ruin his good mood.

Skylar squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw.Nine more months. Provided nothing else went wrong between now and then, he only had to get through nine more months of this life. Then he'd be free. No more escorting. No more Uncle Zeke. No more playingSarahfor dirty old men who saw him as nothing but a hole to fuck. Nine more months, and he would finally be able to afford a hysterectomy. Then his transition would be complete, and he could move far away and start over where nobody knew him.

In the meantime, though, he still had to play the role.

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