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There was just the fantasy, and when the chapter ended, the book was over.
It would have to be enough.
“Kiss me, then take me to my favorite dinner,” Oliver murmured.
Victor smiled, then leaned in and spoke right up against his lips. “Sounds like a good start.”
* * *
Oliver found himself getting lost watching Victor use the metal tongs on the little grill in the center of the table. He’d found a little Korean barbeque and hot-pot shop not too far from Victor’s rental, and since it was well after the dinner rush, they nearly had the place to themselves.
The both of them had been fairly quiet since they’d put out the effigy fire, and while Victor had kept him close and laughed quietly at every attempt Oliver made to joke, something had definitely shifted between them.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Victor’s words,I want to spoil you. Oliver had heard variations of that plenty of times before, in the throes of a client’s passion. He’d had plenty of johns who wanted to feel like they had power over him—to make him want something he couldn’t have. And he was more than happy to play along.
But this was different.Victorwas different. He meant every single word he said, not to dominate Oliver but to make him feel wanted and cherished. And it was throwing Oliver for a loop because he’d never wanted anything so much in his life. Victor was offering him something he hadn’t realized he’d been craving, and now that it was on offer—even if it was only temporary—he didn’t know if he should turn it down for both their sakes.
“…Oliver?”
He blinked. “Sorry, did you say something?”
With a small laugh, Victor shook his head. “I know my reputation for being dry toast is a pretty accurate one, but you can go ahead and just tell me that I’m boring the pants off you. Trust me, I have thick skin.”
Oliver dropped his chopsticks and dragged both hands down his face with a groan. “I swear to God that’s not what’s happening.”
Victor tilted his head to the side. “Okay. So what’s got you upset?”
Oliver bit the inside of his cheek until it hurt. “I’m not upset. This whole thing is just…weird. I’ve never…” He let out a softha. “I feel like a sugar baby.”
Victor blanched. “Ah. I didn’t mean for that to—”
“No. It’s not…God, it wasn’t a criticism, and I know that’s not what we are. This would have been a lot easier if you’d actually hired me the other night.” He dropped his voice because, legal or not, people tended to get weird about it. “But you thought I was your driver.”
“Andyouthought I was some hapless fool getting lost after a failed engagement,” Victor pointed out.
Oliver couldn’t exactly argue with that. “And then we spent the evening together and found out we both like each other.”
“Which is an absolute tragedy,” Victor said dryly.
Oliver scrubbed a hand down his face, laughing. “I know you’re being sarcastic, but it kind of is. I’m out to fucking sea here, babe. If you were some john, I’d fuck you stupid and leave you smiling while I went right to the bank.”
“And instead, you’ve agreed to a ridiculous contract that keeps you with me for nearly a week,” Victor said very quietly.
Dropping his eyes to his plate, Oliver fiddled with his chopsticks. “I keep telling myself this is a bad idea, but every time I look at you, I don’t want to go.”
Victor nodded, a tiny smile playing at his lips as he brought a roll of thinly sliced beef to his sauce, dipped it, then ate it in a delicate snap of his teeth. Oliver couldn’t take his eyes off the way Victor’s jaw moved as he chewed or his throat bobbed as he swallowed.
“We can still cancel the contract, if you’d like,” Victor told him. “If that’s what you really want.”
Oliver laughed and glanced away, rubbing at one eye. “No. First of all, I’m not the kind of moron who turns down that kind of money. But if we’re being brutally honest, I’d probably do this with you for free.”
Victor was quiet for a long time, his face screwed up like he was working through his thoughts. “Without the contract, would you have…you know…”
“Sucked you off?” Oliver murmured low enough that no one but Victor would be able to hear him over the hissing grill and bubbling soup.
The tips of Victor’s ears went red. “Yes. That.”
Oliver knew the answer, but he didn’t want to give it. “I know I would have wanted to. Can we not…” He glanced around. “I don’t like talking about this in public.”
