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“Will you get arrested?”
“It’s not illegal,” he said flatly.
“Thrown out?”
Oliver snorted. “I have been before. But no. Just…it’s been a nice day. It kind of felt like a date. And maybe that’s me being a selfish prick, but—”
His words died off when Victor reached across the table and stroked his fingers over Oliver’s knuckles. “This is a date. And I did say I wanted to spoil you, which means making sure you feel good no matter where we are.” Victor raised Oliver’s hand and kissed him there like it was his favorite thing to do. And considering how often he did it, it actually might have been. “The subject is dropped, angel.”
That was easier said than done since Oliver had already gotten paid, and he supposed that was kind of the problem. In the end, the thing he was terrified about most was that he was taking advantage of Victor’s obvious naivety.
The situation was too damn complicated.
“I’m sorry,” Victor said in the tense silence. “I didn’t mean to ruin tonight.”
Oliver shook his head and swallowed down several gulps of his milk tea before meeting Victor’s gaze. “It’s not you…”
“It’s me?” Victor finished.
Oliver laughed and gently smacked Victor’s arm. “That’s not what I was going to say.” An absolute lie, but the way Victor’s face relaxed was worth it. “Let’s just have a nice…whatever meal this is. They really need a word for brunch that happens well after dinner.”
“Hmm… Lapper? Though that kind of sounds like an STI,” Victor said before primly shoving a fat, greasy shrimp into his mouth.
Oliver almost choked on his attempted bite of grilled tofu. “Eat yourlapper, Victor.”
Victor grinned, then took another bite, and it was only then Oliver became aware he hadn’t moved his fingers away from the back of Oliver’s hand.
Chapter13
Victor couldn’t sayhe regretted his snap decision to hire Oliver as a companion for the rest of the week. To an outsider, it would have looked like the actions of a hurt, desperate man trying to comfort himself through an ugly split. To his friends, it would look like he was finally getting on board with paying for what—and who—he wanted.
In reality, he liked Oliver more than he’d liked anyone in a long, long time. Maybe ever. The idea was terrifying considering the circumstances, but Victor wasn’t a man prone to being irrational. Before this, he wasn’t even sure he had a gut instinct, but Oliver was awakening things in him that he knew would change him forever.
At lunch the next afternoon, Oliver ran to a little deli and got sandwiches to eat on the terrace, lying on the patio chaises like ancient Roman nobility. Victor made that comment, and he was treated to a long, university-level lecture about the historical accuracies and inaccuracies of rich Roman life.
And Oliver lit up when he spoke. He talked with his hands, and he explained things in ways that even Victor could understand. He was so consumed with it he was unable to stop himself from pinning Oliver to his chest and kissing the words right out of his mouth.
“I think you could convert even me, angel.”
Oliver blinked up at him, his thick lashes like dark kohl around his eyes. In the late-afternoon sun, Victor could just make out a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose and over his cheeks, like his own personal galaxy.
He traced a few constellations with the tip of his finger, watching Oliver’s pale face darken with color.
“No one likes history,” Oliver complained softly.
Victor tilted his head to the side, following the way his lips curved around his words. Even the simplest sentences were like poetry. “You’re wrong. You like it, and I’m pretty sure the way you speak about it will convert hundreds.”
Oliver rolled his eyes, but he was grinning as he slipped his hands down Victor’s backside, cupping his ass tight. Victor was a little hard—not completely, but it was a state he found himself in almost constantly when Oliver was within touching distance. “You’re just being nice.”
Victor shook his head. “But I am completely obsessed with you, so I might be biased.”
Oliver pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger and kissed him until Victor was rocking against his hip. He was hard as a rock now and just shy of desperate to come. There was no shortage of intimacy for the long hours that Oliver had been with him. After dinner, they’d gone to bed, and Oliver methodically stripped Victor of his clothes, not hesitating when it came to peeling away his orthotics, then kissed his way up Victor’s body and jerked him off so perfectly he nearly cried as he came.
In the morning, Oliver had woken him up with a lubed hand playing with his balls. He rolled another condom on with his lips, then jerked himself off as he took Victor all the way to the back of his throat.
But it was more than just that. In spite of the fact that Victor was having more sex in two days than he’d had for the entire duration of his relationship with Alice, what he had with Oliver felt so much deeper. It was so much more fulfilling.
He was lost in a sea of intimate touches—careful arms holding him when he needed it. Strong fingers working at his calves and thighs whenever they’d start to spasm. Oliver never pushed him to do more than he was capable of doing, and he seemed more than content to sit quietly and work on his research while Victor napped on the couch or lay behind Oliver to play with his soft, short hair.
