Benji (The Wylde Street Boys #1)

5. Nolan

FIVE

NOLAN

I shut the door to the bathroom and leaned my back against it, trying to catch my breath.

Jesus Christ.

I needed to jerk off or something. It wasn’t right that I was having such a physical reaction to Benji. He was exactly my type, yes. Gorgeous, with younger, boyish charms. Was a twenty-one-year-old too young?

Yes.

No.

Yes . . . No. God fucking dammit.

He was an adult. He was very familiar with sex, and he knew exactly what he was doing when he moaned like that and looked at me over his shoulder with those fuck-me eyes.

Christ.

But he was here because he needed to recuperate and hide out for a week. He was injured. I was looking after him, not preying on him .

Or was he preying on me?

That sound he made... damn. It sparked fire in my bones.

I had to remind myself that he was a sex worker. A rent boy. He knew exactly what sounds to make, how to play it up. How to play me.

Did he think I expected sex?

Was that what that act was?

Maybe I hadn’t been clear enough from the beginning.

I didn’t expect anything like that . . .

Except now I couldn’t stop thinking about it. What other sounds he’d make, what he’d feel like when I buried myself inside him, him underneath me, riding me.

No.

I shot off from the door, going to the sink and washing the heat rub off my hands. Cold water and fragrant soap were a good distraction from the sultry scent of a gym locker room rendezvous.

I splashed some cold water on my face and looked myself dead in the eye in my reflection.

“Act your age,” I mumbled sternly to myself. “Show some restraint.”

Hm. Yes, restraint.

I shook out my shoulders, letting the tension slip away, and I urged my dick to behave, then went straight to the kitchen to clean up after dinner.

It was another good distraction, as was the work I did on my laptop for two hours. Benji hadn’t stirred or come out of my room, and while I understood he was there because I’d told him he could lie in my bed, I hadn’t exactly meant that he could spend the night there.

I’d assumed he’d come out at some point and settle on the couch again, but he hadn’t. When I went in to check on him, he was on his side facing me, sound asleep. The room was dark, the only light coming from the hall, casting a soft strip of colour across his features.

He was pretty. Beautiful, even.

Pale skin, a few freckles, long eyelashes, and full lips. His dark, curly hair topped off his boyish features.

It was easy to see why he used the term rent boy.

Young, thin, cute.

I considered waking him but figured he could use the sleep. It wasn’t like he was wide awake and eagerly patting the bed for me to join him... Then I considered taking the couch as I’d said I could... as I probably should. But the selfish part of me wanted to sleep next to him. It was a huge bed and I could stick to my side of the bed and not disturb him...

My god he was so beautiful.

He was asleep, and I was being a perv for watching him without his knowing.

So I got myself ready for bed, dressed in pyjamas—sleep pants and a tee—and slid into bed as quietly and gently as I could.

He didn’t stir.

I was almost disappointed.

Okay, so I was disappointed.

And annoyed at myself for being so.

I was dreading going to work in the morning, possibly for the first time ever. I didn’t want to leave Benji here by himself. Not that I feared he’d skip out on me, taking whatever he could sell with him.

I didn’t think that at all.

I didn’t want to go to work tomorrow because I’d enjoyed his company so much. I hadn’t had someone over at my place for any length of time, and the company had been amazing.

Having someone to talk to, to laugh with, to eat with.

I got the feeling he wouldn’t be staying for the whole week, and I was going to miss having the company. Which was a stark reminder of how lonely I was.

How reclusive I’d become, and how much of my life centred around my work.

With a weighted sigh, I rolled onto my side with my back to him and closed my eyes.

I woke up too warm and far too comfortable, and as I came to grips with my surroundings, I realised why.

Benji was using my arm as a pillow, curled into my side, his head on my chest.

What the fuck?

I had no recollection of moving, and a quick assessment of how I was in the middle of the bed told me that we’d both moved toward each other.

I’d opened my arm for him at some point and he’d snuggled in .

I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to wake him, and I didn’t want to go to work today.

I wanted to stay with him. I wanted to do a lot of things to him, but that wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t here for my pleasure; he was here to recuperate and stay out of trouble for a week.

Trouble I probably should have asked about but didn’t want to know...

With him lying in my bed with my arm around him, I wasn’t sure I cared.

My god, how I wanted this . . .

I wanted intimacy, human touch, and the feel of a warm body next to mine.

I wanted sex.

My dick was very aware of Benji’s proximity.

Goddammit.

I need to get up and out of bed now.

My alarm hadn’t even gone off, but I needed to be out of this bed before he woke up and realised I had a raging hard-on.

“Morning,” he said, still half-asleep. I froze, but he chuckled. “I probably should apologise for being where I am right now.” He sighed. “But I’m not sorry. Like, at all. That was the best sleep I’ve ever had.”

I realised belatedly that I still had my hand on his shoulder. I let it drop. “I should get up,” I said, pulling my arm free and sitting up, swinging my legs to the floor.

Willing my hard-on to miraculously deflate.

No such luck.

Benji whined out a sigh. “Such a shame. ”

I had my back to him and didn’t dare turn around to see, but it definitely sounded as if he were pouting.

Don’t look. If you see those lips in a pout with sad dark eyes, you’ll do something you’ll regret.

“I need to shower,” I said quietly and walked into my bathroom so he couldn’t see just how much I’d enjoyed having him in my arms.

I made the shower as cold as I could stand, and it did very little to rid myself of my eager cock. Well, the hard-on was gone but the urge, the need for release was bubbling just under the surface.

You’re not going to work today.

You’re going to work from home. You’ve done it before, that time when you weren’t feeling well, and it was fine. Working from home was common these days. It’s no big deal...

I shut the water off and grabbed my towel, mad at myself for even entertaining the idea.

This is a one-off. How often do you have a guest staying over? Get your work done and enjoy his company. Life will be back to miserable and lonely soon enough.

Goddammit.

No, go to freaking work. Christ.

Now even madder at myself, I dried off and regretted not bringing clothes with me. Because now it meant that I had to walk back out into my room wearing nothing but a towel.

With Benji still in bed watching me.

Except he wasn’t. The bed was empty, and I was both disappointed and grateful. I quickly pulled on my briefs and suit pants, getting dressed for work. I pulled on a work shirt, buttoning it up, convincing myself that work would be good for me.

I needed to be busy and buried in paperwork.

Except when I walked out to the kitchen, threading my belt on, Benji was standing at the counter, wearing pyjamas with bed hair, slicing up some fruit. “Coffee machine is on, and I thought I’d fix you some breakfast before you leave.”

“I’m not going to work today,” I said out loud, surprising even myself.

He paused, the knife mid-slice through a strawberry. “Oh?” Then he looked me up and down at how I was dressed. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll work from home,” I said. “I was going to go into the office, but honestly, I get more done at home, and you’re here by yourself and I feel bad for leaving you. If I go into the office, I won’t be home until late, and that’s not fair.”

He was stunned, almost as much as I was, by the words that came out of my mouth.

“I can watch TV and read a book,” he said. “You don’t need to miss work on my behalf.”

I shook my head. “I’m not missing anything. I’ll still need to get work done, and if I do need something from the office, I can have it couriered. It’s not like I’m calling in sick or anything. I’ll just sit at the table, and I have noise cancelling headphones, so the TV won’t bother me. You can watch whatever you want. ”

He smirked as he finished slicing the strawberry. “So you still wear the suit to work from home?”

I looked down at myself and chuckled. “Ah, no. I’ll go change.”

He grinned at me. “Okay. Is fruit and coffee okay for breakfast? Some toast, maybe?”

Having him smile like that, all sleep rumpled in my kitchen, making me breakfast? He had no idea... “That’s... Perfect.”

I went back into my room and changed into some more comfortable clothes. Some new lounge pants and a long-sleeve tee shirt seemed more appropriate. I refused to look at myself in the mirror because I couldn’t bring myself to look myself in the eye.

I was refusing to go into work because I had a sexy little rent boy as a house guest.

What had my life become?

I was never this irresponsible.

I never did shit like this.

Maybe that’s why I needed to do it...

Life will be back to normal next week.

I took out my phone and sent a message to the office that I’d be working from home as I’d come down with a cold.

It wasn’t a sick day, as such; I didn’t need a medical certificate. I was just simply working from home. People did it often these days. I had no meetings, no appointments, so it was no big deal.

That’s what I told myself, anyway.

I also sent Dominic a text.

Working from home today. On email if needed. Call if it’s urgent.

And then, because I’d already thrown all responsibility out the window, I switched my phone to silent.

I came back out to find two places set at the island counter, not at the table. Coffee, juice, toast, and sliced fruit.

“This looks great, thank you,” I said.

He grinned, looking me up and down. “And you look much more comfortable. I had to look through a few cupboards to find everything. Hope that’s okay.”

“More than okay,” I said, pulling out a stool to sit on.

“I didn’t know what you wanted on your toast,” he said. On his plate was one slice of toast cut in half with a smear of peanut butter.

I took half, grinning as I bit into it. “Peanut butter’s fine.”

“Hey!” He laughed, swatting at my hand.

But then he took my plate and spread some peanut butter on the toast, cut it in half, and stole one of my halves. His playful smile and sparkling eyes caught me by surprise, and I had to make myself look away. I sipped my coffee as a distraction.

“Did your friends check in after last night?” I asked.

“Yep. All is well.” He nodded, popping a strawberry in his mouth. Which of course, made him groan. “Oh, that’s so good.”

I was still stuck on that filthy sound he just made.

“You like strawberries?” My voice was rougher than I’d intended.

“Mmm,” he said, having another and making another obscene sound that curled low in my belly. “That’s so good. I haven’t had fresh strawberries in years.” Then he did a cute little happy wiggle. “This is all so good. You’re spoiling me so much I won’t want to leave.”

I found myself smiling at him, at how happy fresh food made him. I wanted to ask what his story was, how he came to be working like he did, but didn’t want to ruin his mood.

We had a week to delve deeper into personal waters.

I wondered if he’d tell me. And I wondered how bad it might be, and then I realised maybe I shouldn’t even ask. Maybe I should give him a week to escape from his reality.

“You’ll have to think about what you want for dinner. We can order something if you’d rather I didn’t cook.”

He smiled behind his coffee. “Or I could cook,” he suggested. “I haven’t done that in a while and I can’t promise it’ll be any good, but it’s the least I can do.” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re paying me, after all.”

“I’m not paying you to cook though.”

“We haven’t really discussed what you’re paying me for,” he murmured. One of his eyebrows rose artfully, his smirk far too sultry.

“I’m covering your rent and loss of income because I hit you with my car,” I replied. “I don’t expect anything in return.”

He sighed, then smiled as he sipped his coffee. “ You can put me to work if you want,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “I have... certain skills.”

Jesus.

My body knew exactly what he was implying but my brain had to intervene. “Breakfast was great, thank you. Maybe you can work on some lunch-making skills around midday.” I checked my watch as I stood up. “I should get busy.”

Benji smiled, watching me as I stole a slice of strawberry and put my plate in the sink.

“I think I’ll watch a movie,” he announced. “Seeing as I have hours to fill in.”

“Good idea.”

“I can watch in your room, if that’s okay. That way I won’t distract you if you’re working at the table.”

“Of course. Though you can watch out here. I’m good at tuning out noise. I don’t mind one bit.”

He pouted as he considered this, and damn, if he didn’t do it deliberately. Like he knew what those full, pouty lips did to me. “I might get lonely in your room,” he murmured. “Your bed is too big for one person.”

Yep. He knew exactly what he was doing.

I laughed and shook my head. “Does playing the sweet boy win over all your clients?”

He smiled, biting his bottom lip. “Yes.”

“I can see why.”

His eyes lit up and I swear he purred. “So you’ll join me?”

I put my hands up and went to the dining table. I needed to put some distance between us, and it helped that he couldn’t see my semi-hard dick that these stupid lounge pants did little to hide. “No. I have work to do.”

He sighed petulantly and even stamped his foot, but then his phone rang. He answered it, looking right at me.

“Fitch, Nolan’s being mean to me,” he said.

I scoffed. What the fuck?

I heard Fitch say something, but Benji shook his head. “No, no. He’s just being mean. He won’t spend the day in bed with me.”

I heard Fitch laugh, then he said something else.

“My back’s fine . . . Yes, of course I tried pouting . . . And what? It didn’t work . . . Nothing. He still said no.”

Oh, dear god.

If only he knew how on edge my body was. How my balls ached and how my dick was only one more of Benji’s pouts away from being a full hard-on.

Working from home had been a very bad idea.

“I’m going to watch a movie,” Benji said. “ Pretty Woman , because you know, real life imitating art and all that.” Then he paused by the table and looked at me. “Though I’m sure Richard Gere’s character railed the hooker he was paying to stay with him for a week.”

Jesus. He was just saying this out loud?

He wasn’t even hinting anymore.

He wanted me to rail him?

Benji sniffed and went to the couch where he picked up the remote and lay down as the TV came to life. No longer paying any attention to me, having a mumbled conversation with Fitch.

My mind was still stuck on what he’d said—on the me-railing-him part—while my dick was very much on board, my eyes were having a blinking contest with the cursor on my laptop screen.

I couldn’t believe what he’d said.

My phone screen came to life with a text from Dominic. It was a good distraction to kick my brain into gear. I picked up my phone, ignoring what Benji was saying.

Dominic’s text was blunt and to the point, just like him.

Everything okay?

I thumbed out a quick reply.

Yeah. Just not feeling great.

Which was a lie... Or maybe it wasn’t. I was feeling... some kind of way. Mostly confused, somewhat enamoured with the sassy guy on my couch with the full pouty lips who wanted me to rail him, and definitely aroused.

Yes, definitely aroused.

All while I wasn’t feeling not great as I’d lied to Dominic, I was certainly feeling the most alive I’d felt in a long time.

The fun, the company, the excitement.

The prospect of giving Benji what he wanted...

This was not going to end well.

I slid my phone onto the table, put my headphones in, and tried to block out the world as I busied myself with actual work. I had reports and data for depositions to do, and it was good to be productive.

Though I saw on the screen when Benji found Pretty Woman on Netflix, and I saw when Julia Roberts got in the car with Gere.

I looked up again when Benji, still lying on the sofa, raised both hands in the air. Julia Roberts was telling the store on Rodeo Drive of their big mistake, and it made me smile.

It was a great scene in the movie about not judging a person by their clothes or their job.

And Benji identified with Julia Roberts’s character.

Both sex workers.

Both deserving of respect as human beings.

In some ways it reminded me of why I did what I did for a living too. To make sure people were treated fairly and justly the only way I knew how.

I went back to my work, almost done on this one report. But I looked up again in time to see Richard Gere climbing the fire escape to rescue his damsel.

I pretended to not notice when the movie ended and Benji walked past. I heard the shower start and I pretended to not envisage him wet in the shower.

He came back out and I pretended to not notice how low-slung those sweatpants were on his hips, how his hip bones peeked out below the hem of his too-short tee shirt. I most definitely didn’t notice the outline of his dick or the way I was certain he wasn’t wearing underwear.

I stared at my laptop screen so hard my eyes hurt, though the words were a blur. My heart was hammering, my blood running warm.

My dick was in a permanent state of semi-hardness.

Then, of course, he stopped walking and turned back around. “Forgot my book,” he murmured.

Which I was certain he did to make sure I’d look up at him and see him in those slutty clothes with his wet curls and sweet smile.

And yeah, he was most definitely not wearing underwear.

I let out a slow, quiet breath as soon as he’d disappeared, trying to get my body and mind back on track.

I deliberately didn’t look at him when he walked back past with a book in his hand, and I didn’t look at him when he lay back down on the couch.

I did smile as his foot appeared on the top of the backrest though... until I realised it meant he was lying there with his legs spread wide...

He was going to kill me, I was sure of it.

I decided checking emails was in order, and a decent distraction as it turned out. I hadn’t thought of Benji for a few minutes, at least, until he appeared beside me with a plate in his hand.

“Your lunch,” he said, sliding the plate toward me. There was a sandwich on it, and I hadn’t even realised he’d gotten up or heard him in the kitchen.

“Oh, wow. Sorry, I lost track of time.” I checked the time on my laptop. It was after midday. Jeez. I really had lost track of time .

“You were in the zone there for a while,” Benji said. “Will you stop for lunch? Or do you work through?”

“Uh...” I half shrugged. “Normally I eat as I work. But I’ve never had a house guest before. I can take a few minutes.”

He brightened, genuinely happy about this. “We can sit on the balcony!”

I chuckled at his enthusiasm. “Okay.”

We took our plates out to the balcony, and man, the warm sun on my face, the fresh breeze, was a small slice of heaven I hadn’t allowed myself in so long.

The sandwich was great too, and the way Benji was smiling.

He looked even prettier in the sunlight. It highlighted the shades of dark blues and gold in his black hair, and his freckles looked bronzed. His long eyelashes fanned shadows across his cheeks when he closed his eyes, soaking up the sunshine.

Boyish. Beautiful.

“I would never leave the balcony if I lived here,” he murmured.

I sighed, the sun making me sleepy. “I forgot what it feels like to take a minute of sun for no other purpose than to feel it warm my skin.”

He opened his eyes slowly, smiling at me. “You’re so poetic.”

I chuckled and stretched out. “Poetic? I was going to say if I was a cat I’d be purring right now.”

That made him laugh, and when he stretched his legs out too, his foot brushed mine. He didn’t move it away or apologise. He just sat there, smiling at me with our feet touching.

It felt oddly intimate.

A rush of butterflies flittered in my belly, and I was reminded of the first time I’d held a boy’s hand in high school. That jittery rush...

God, I haven’t felt that in so long...

“Are you getting through your work?” he asked quietly.

“I am.”

“What time will you be working through till?”

“If I were at the office, it’d be six or seven.”

“Damn.”

“So maybe six?” I hedged. “Did you want to order something in for dinner?”

“No, I want to cook you something. I don’t know what yet. I’ll go through your pantry and fridge and see what I can come up with. I feel bad for not doing anything. I hate being lazy.”

“You’re not being lazy. You’re resting. Is your back feeling better?”

“Much. You were right about your bed.” His eyes held mine. “Great spinal support. I bet its real comfy to fuck in.”

I very nearly sputtered but managed to rein it in. He chuckled at whatever my face did though. “You’re so easy to rankle.”

“Rankle?”

“Yes. It means to make someone annoyed. ”

“I know what it means. I’m not annoyed. I just find your blasé commentary about sex somewhat shocking.”

“Shocking?”

“Yes, it means to cause a feeling of surprise or dismay.”

He laughed and he tapped his foot to mine. “Ah. The man has wit.”

I found myself smiling at him, and as much as I shouldn’t have enjoyed this banter, I really freaking did. “The man needs to get back to work.”

He sighed then, pouting with huge puppy-dog eyes. “Aww, but we were just getting to the good part.”

Yes, we were.

Which is why I needed to stop it.

“Thank you for suggesting lunch out here,” I said, taking our empty plates. “It was most enjoyable.”

He very deliberately raked his gaze down my body to my crotch and he licked his lips. “Oh, I bet it is.”

Sparks danced down my spine, warmth pooling in my balls.

This boy—this man—was sent to test me, I was sure of it.

I went inside, only breathing after I’d dumped the plates in the sink and was sitting behind the shield of my laptop. I put my headphones back on and ignored the invisible pull of Benji outside on my balcony. I ignored the pull in my body, the burning want that now seared my veins.

I was pretty sure it was only going to end one way— with him getting what he wanted from me, being face down on my bed—but I had to be strong.

Even if he was offering... and he certainly wasn’t being shy about it.

Would it complicate things?

Probably.

But he was only here a week.

I should just enjoy it while I could. And by god, I bet his tiny little arse was sweeter than honey...

My phone buzzed, startling me and snapping my thoughts back out of the gutter like an elastic band.

Damn.

It was Perla from the office, and she was sending through some files that needed my attention before close of business.

Perfect.

Distraction and data. Just what I needed.

I had more emails too. More files, more information, more cataloguing and registering.

And, as if Benji sensed I had actual work to do, he left me alone.

Mostly.

He swept the floor, he tidied the kitchen. The smell of lemon disinfectant down the hall told me he even cleaned the bathroom. He read some more of his book. A Stephen King novel, I noticed.

His reading selection pleased me. I wasn’t entirely sure why.

He pottered around the kitchen, used the blender, chopped something, washed something, all while humming and dancing.

He looked so carefree. So happy.

He also looked like sin personified in those too-low sweatpants and his too-short tee shirt. His pale body underneath, his hip bones...

He needed to eat more.

I wanted to feed him.

Christ.

I cleared my throat and made myself focus on my screen. Benji appeared at my side with a glass of water and a coaster. “Is your throat okay? You coughed a bit.”

He brought me a glass of water . . .

I took my headphones off and slid them onto the table. “I’m fine, but thank you.”

“Dinner won’t be long. It’s five-thirty already.”

I double-checked the time on my laptop screen. Shoot. It was that late already?

“You lose track of time so easily,” Benji said smoothly. Then he slid his hand along my shoulder and squeezed. “God, you’re tense.”

I was going to tell him to stop, but he dug his thumb into my shoulder and it felt so damn good. Then he went in with two hands and I could have wept. I closed my laptop and closed my eyes. “Oh god,” I breathed. “That feels so good.”

“You work too hard,” he said, still digging into the meat of my shoulders with his thumbs, then my neck. “You need to unwind more. Relax your body. ”

It felt so good, so fucking good, I couldn’t have asked him to stop even if I’d wanted to.

And I didn’t want to.

He stood closer than he needed to, then his hands began to smooth over my collarbones, caresses in between massaging. His soft touch lingering before digging into me again.

“I know what else would help you relax,” he murmured, low and seductive. His hand ran down over my pec, fingers skimming over the fabric covering my nipple.

God, he was so good at this.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” I said, my voice rougher, breathier than I’d intended.

He leaned down, his nose nudging my nape, and he whispered, “I’m not playing. I told you I was a sexual person, Nolan.” His lip skimmed my ear and goose flesh rippled over my entire body. “I like sex. I want it all the time.” Then he kissed the side of my neck, that spot below my ear that drove me crazy. “I need it, Nolan.”

I stood up, the chair scraping backwards into him. I turned around but he turned my seat and pushed my shoulder. “Sit,” he ordered.

I sat, my breath leaving me in a rush, every nerve on high alert, desperate and so turned on.

He smiled as he went to his knees between my legs. “Let me take care of you,” he murmured.

Right then, I’d have let him do whatever the fuck he wanted to me.

He palmed my erection through the material, humming and licking his lips. “Oh my,” he breathed. “I need to taste you.”

My fingers found his jaw, my thumb swiping his bottom lip. “These lips...”

He smirked as he took my thumb into his mouth, closing his lips around me.

I grunted as I pulled my thumb free. “Tease.”

He grinned, licking his lips, and turned his attention to the hard-on in my pants. He pulled the elastic down and pulled my cock out, his hand around the shaft. “Oh fuck, yes,” he said with a sigh. “I knew you’d have a gorgeous cock.”

Oh fuck.

He leaned in and tongued the frenulum, then kissed the tip. Soft lips opening, his tongue swiping the slit, his big eyes looking up at me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I grit out.

He opened his lips and took me in, his eyes never leaving mine. His tongue swirled and he hummed as he sucked me down.

My arse almost left the chair, needing more of this ecstasy. I raked my hand through his hair, fisting the curls, desperate to force him down, to take all of me, but somehow finding the restraint not to.

God, how I wanted to.

He groaned when I pulled on his hair, his eyes closing slowly, his lips smiling around my cock.

I slid my other hand along his jaw, framing his face, his neck, as he slid his mouth up and down my cock, his lips wet and slick. He moaned as he took me deep, humming and sucking, hot and wet, and holy fuck, this was bliss.

I hadn’t had this kind of attention in far too long.

And he was too good.

Then he cupped my balls and fisted the base, and I was too worked up, too turned on.

“You’re gonna make me come,” I said. “Those fucking lips.”

He smiled, his eyes rolling closed, and took me deeper. He worked me harder, beckoning my orgasm closer and closer.

“Benji,” I grated out. “Gonna come.”

I tried to pull out, tried to back him off, but he only fought harder to stay, to take it.

I gripped his hair harder then. “You want it, huh?”

He nodded, so I forced him down, sliding into his throat, and he swallowed around me, sucking me like he needed it. Groaning out a pleading sound that ended me.

“Fuck,” I bit out as my orgasm ripped through me. I came hard, spurting down his throat, and he hummed, rocking back and forth as he took every drop.

My mind spun, all my senses a jumble of ecstasy and bliss. I was vaguely aware of Benji tucking my dick back into my pants, and when I focused on him, he was smiling like the cat who got the cream.

Literally.

But then he did the darndest thing.

He crawled into my lap, curled himself up, and wrapped his arms around me, his head in the crook of my neck. I had one arm around his back, my other arm around his knees, and damn, if he didn’t fit against me like a glove.

I wasn’t used to cuddling after sex—not really the done thing in my recent experience of convenient sex and leave—but this... I could get used to this.

He sighed, snuggling into my neck more, and I instinctively held him tighter. “Are you okay?” I asked.

He hummed. “Oh yes, very. Do you mind me sitting like this?”

Curled up like a child in my lap?

Couldn’t say I’d ever done that before either.

“I like it,” I admitted quietly.

“Did you like what I just did to you?”

Oh god . . .

“Very much.”

“I liked it too,” he whispered.

Then, all too late, I remembered something. “Did you...? I didn’t make you come.”

Benji sat up then, his bony arse grinding on my thigh, his face incredibly close, his dark eyes like molten onyx. “Oh no, you’re going to do that later.”

I couldn’t believe how certain he was of that. I couldn’t even believe he’d said that either, but still... “Is that so?”

He nodded, then put his face back into my neck, his voice sweet and matter of fact. “Oh yes. After dinner, you’ll take me to bed and fuck me so good.”

A wave of heat rushed through me, and my voice came out much rougher than I’d intended. “Oh really?”

He nodded against my neck. “Yes, really. I’ll be face down on your bed and you can rail me however you want.”

Sweet mother of god, have mercy.

“However I want?”

How was this even a conversation I was having right now?

“Now I’ve tasted your cock,” Benji said before he let out a long sigh, “I don’t want anything else. We should probably discuss sexual health.”

Oh shit. “Yes, of course.”

I’d been so busy trying to deny this, I’d forgotten the most important part.

“I get tested regularly,” he went on to say as if he were discussing the weather. “Last test was two weeks ago. I got my results last week, and I’m all clear. I’d show you the results on my phone, but I don’t want to get up right now. And I’m on PrEP.”

I rubbed his back. “I was tested a few months back, but I’ve not been with anyone since. My results are on my phone.”

I grabbed my phone and found the email, showing him the results. I had nothing to hide.

He read it, then put my phone down with another contented sigh. “So you can fuck me raw if you want.”

Jesus H Christ.

He chuckled, because I’d clearly jolted or froze... or maybe he felt my pulse kick in my neck. “Do you want to do that, Nolan?”

Oh my freaking god .

Hell yes, I did. But I also hadn’t ever done that before and it was a little daunting, if I was being honest.

“I really need you to come inside me,” he whispered, then began to kiss and suckle on my neck, then he reached my ear. He sucked the earlobe in between his lips, then nuzzled his face into my neck again. “Please?”

I’d like to think I had a logical brain; reasonable, perhaps even above average cognitive reasoning skills, analytical, sensible...

Yeah.

Benji begging me in that soft, helpless tone, and I had no thoughts at all. I’d give him whatever he damn well wanted.

I pulled back, lifted his chin with my fingers, and crushed my mouth to his. He grunted, smiling into the kiss as he changed position, never breaking the kiss but moving to straddle me instead.

My arms went around him so easily. He was thin, with a slight frame. He weighed next to nothing, and he climbed me like a tree. I had to crane my neck up as he bared his kiss down on me, delving his tongue into my mouth.

He rocked his hips forward, and his sweatpants scarcely hid his erection. I wasn’t getting hard again any time soon, but I still wanted him. That burning desire to take him to bed and bury myself inside him never waned.

He smiled and broke the kiss, leaning his forehead to mine. His eyes were dark and full of spark, his lips curved up like the devil. “Fuck, you can kiss,” he murmured. “You taste so good, you smell divine, and your cock...” He groaned as he ground down on my sensitive dick, making me hold him still. “And your hands,” he purred. “You have big hands. Strong and in control. Fuck, Nolan. You can have me as many times as you want while I’m here. I’m all yours.”

His words burned behind my sternum, embers glowing white hot. He had no idea how much I...

“Hmm,” he hummed, smirking, his voice soft and rough. “You like that, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes. Which part, Nolan? That you can have me as often and however you want?” He paused, challenging, teasing. “Or that I’m all yours?”

Then he laughed and licked his lips, his gaze locked with mine. “Mmm,” he groaned out, kissing down my jaw so he could whisper in my ear. “That I’m all yours. That’s what you like. Your eyes don’t lie.”

I ran my hands up his back and pulled him down onto me, holding him tight and flexing my hips, desperate to feel more of him. “You have no idea how much I like it,” I breathed.

The little minx chuckled, kissing me softly. “Then take me to bed and show me.”

I groaned, my dick starting to show some interest.

“What about dinner?” I asked. Pretty sure he’d mentioned that before.

“Dinner can wait. I cannot.”

Then I remembered he’d asked me to come inside him... yeah, my dick was definitely into that idea. I recalled seeing his backpack full of condoms and lube, and there had been a box of PrEP .

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Do you want me to fuck you bare?”

He pulled back and for the first time there was a flash of insecurity in his eyes. “I don’t... I don’t do that with clients, just so you know. I have protected sex only. It’s too risky otherwise.” He shrugged. “But I trust you. I can trust you, right?”

I stroked his jaw, soft and reassuring. “I’ve shown you my health status. I wouldn’t lie about that. Bareback is not something I do either, to be honest. Safe sex was drummed into me, and I haven’t been in any long-term, committed relationship...” I studied his big brown eyes. “But I won’t do it if you’re unsure.”

“I want to try it,” he murmured. He climbed off me and a second later was back with his phone. He showed me his results. “I wouldn’t lie about it either.” He swung his leg over me and straddled me, my hands going to his hips so easily. “I’m not going to get another chance, really. Unless some other rich guy wants to hit me with his car and let me stay at his place for a week.” He straightened some strands of my hair. “And I can guarantee if that did happen, he’d never be as sweet as you.”

“Sweet?”

He nodded. “Do you know how many men would have used me by now if they were in your shoes? Like, the first day, for sure, and they wouldn’t have been nice about it. With you, I had to drop all kinds of hints and pout like a child to get what I wanted.”

I chuckled. “So the pouting was a ploy. ”

“Absolutely. I did it once and your pupils blew out and your nostrils flared, so I knew you liked it.”

“So my eyes don’t lie, my pupils dilate, and my nostrils flare.”

He nodded with a sigh and nestled his face in my neck again. “Yes. Please tell me you don’t play poker.”

I rubbed his back, and something he said before was still hanging in my mind. “I won’t use you,” I said quietly. “Like other men.”

“You’re already nothing like other men,” he replied simply. “You treat me like a person.”

“You deserve nothing less than that.”

“And you still haven’t taken me to bed,” he added with a long sigh. Then he lifted his head, showing me the most pitiful pout. “All I want is for you to rail me, many times, and you still haven’t done it yet. Not even once.”

I touched my thumb to his bottom lip. “This pout won’t work now you’ve told me it’s fake.”

He turned up the dial, pouting like a spoiled child, his puppy-dog eyes large and dark. He was nothing short of an anime character. “Don’t you want me? I need you to want me, Nolan.”

I groaned and gripped his arse as I stood up, and he wrapped his legs around me. “I’ll show you what that pout will get you,” I said, carrying him down the hall.

He laughed as he locked his legs around my waist, his arms around my neck, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss.

He was a brat.

And he was about to find out just how much I wanted him.