It’s too much.
There’s a sweet ache building in my chest that I cannot handle. If you asked when someone last cooked for me who wasn’t getting paid to do it, I’d be at a loss.
My lips on his is the only way I can think of to make it all stop. My hands tug at his hair as he grips my hips. There’s a frantic flapping in my chest I haven’t experienced in ages. I’ve done and seen too much to get rattled anymore.
Our tongues tangle as I press him backward, reminding us both who’s in control. Or who’s supposed to be.
For all my earlier fucking around, I really do need to pull myself back, keep this thing in familiar territory. Rowan and I, it’s a business transaction. A service exchanged for a service. Nothing more.
A fuckingbusiness transaction.
Nothing. More.
And if I say it enough times, it’ll be true. “Get in the bedroom.”
Rowan’s eyes go wide. “Oh, sure, I guess we could eat later. Or did you already—”
“Go, Rowan.”
He swallows and nods. As he stumbles backward over his own feet, I almost feel bad. Most people, when they first meet me, think I’m a nice guy. That’s intentional. When I’m traveling for work, nobody thinks of the friendly guy who bumped into them at the train station and says, “I bet that guy’s a killer,” and that’s the point.
Rowan scrambles all my circuits. Besides, he offered me fucking in exchange for his safety. There was no mention of a limit, so I might as well get my money’s worth.
When he lands on his back on the bed, he’s got a tent in his pants, so maybe I don’t have to feel so bad after all. “Get naked.”
He rushes to comply while I root around in my pack for that tie I found on the floor of his hotel room. I hand it to him as I rush to pull my own clothes off.
“Gonna fuck you again.” The sooner I can get inside him, the sooner I can chase away the warm feelings that metastasized in my chest when I walked in to find out Rowan had made us dinner.
“Here.” I hand over the tie. “Put it around your head. Make sure you can’t see.”
If I don’t look into those earnest eyes of his, this will all be easier.
“Okay, it’s on. I can’t see, I swear.” There’s a tremor of nerves in his voice.
“Keep it on. And keep your hands on the bed. If you take the blindfold off, I stop. Understood?”
A muscle jumps in his jaw. “I fucking get it, Milo.”
Asshole. “And maybe if you’re going to keep being a pain in my ass, I’ll go ahead and shoot you now so I can get some peace, got it?”
There’s an audible swallow as he nods. “Fine. Got it.”
Fuck, the way his lower lip trembles. Is this what drugs feel like? The kind all the glittery kids at the club take? I’ve never hooked up with someone who knows what I really do for a living. The way he’s both turned on and afraid of me makes my blood fucking sing.
“Good. Good whore.” Somehow, the word I started using to remind us both of reality comes out too warm. Too soft.
To make up for it, I give each nipple a hard flick.
Rowan’s chest jerks with the force of his gasp. Damn, that’s tasty.
I put one knee on the bed, determined to start at the bottom and work my way up. The other thing I pull from my pack is a lock pick set. I pull out one of the metal hooks and drag it over his skin. Not hard enough to cut him, but enough that his pale skin shows a pretty red mark.
“Oh, that’s…” He trails off with a gasp, his foot twitching.
I can’t seem to stop myself from pressing a kiss to the red line I’ve left on his skin. Then I do the same a little higher, pressing another kiss before moving on. Slow and steady, I make a path up one leg and then the other. Over his hip. Across the sensitive skin of his abdomen. Over his chest.
Along the column of his throat.
