“What do you need?” Dash asked.
“Please!”
“Tell me, Mr. Shipton.”
“Thorne.” There. His voice did work. At least for a one-word answer.
“What?”
“Call. Me. Thorne.”
“What do you need, Thorne?”
Thorne gave up trying to say it. He let go of the comforter. His hand was nearly too cramped to work, but somehow he’d have to force it, because if he didn’t get some friction on his cock soon, he was going to lose his fucking mind.
When he reached under his body, Dash grabbed his hand and yanked it out to the side.
“No!” Thorne shouted. “Need to come. Now!”
“Oh, you want to come?”
“Fuck you!” Thorne struggled, trying to free his hand from Dash’s grip.
“No need to be rude. All you have to do is ask.” Dash wrapped a hand around Thorne’s cock.
Thorne gasped. He was so fucking sensitive now. He gripped the comforter again as Dash worked him. He thrust into Dash’s fist and back onto his dick, desperate for release.
“Yes,” Dash encouraged him. “Take what you want. Fuck yourself on my cock.”
Thorne cried out as he came, the orgasm hitting him so hard the world dimmed. He fought for air as he shot over and over, and Dash kept jerking him off.
When he was done, he collapsed against the comforter, drenched in sweat and utterly exhausted.
Dash let go of his cock and leaned over him, putting his hands on top of Thorne’s. “My turn.”
He fucked Thorne hard, fast, but still with finesse, keeping his rhythm steady until he cried out Thorne’s name. His fucking name. Did he plan that?
Dash jerked his hips against Thorne’s as his orgasm seemed to consume him and then it was all over. Thorne would have to go back to the real world where there weren’t any brazen rent boys, only fucking demanding clients.
He let out a long breath, deciding a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. He didn’t push Dash off like he might have. They lay there, Dash draped over him, their bodies slick against each other, their breathing heavy.
Dash kissed his neck, his back, each vertebra. Then slowly, he rose and pulled out.
Thorne gasped. “Wow, that’s…wow.” Thank God he wouldn’t be sitting on any hard conference room chairs tomorrow.
“All you’d hoped for?”
“More.” Thorne immediately wished he could take that back. He felt more exposed with that admission than he had with his ass spread for Dash.
“Good.” Dash leaned down and kissed each of his ass cheeks. “I aim to please.”
Thorne forced himself to stand. “Whoa.” The room spun, and he had to wait a few seconds before he was certain he could make it to the bathroom without crashing to the floor.
“Lie down for a bit if you’d like,” he told Dash. “I’m going to grab a shower and then I’ve got to get back to work.”
“YoU’re working on a Friday night?”
Thorne sighed. “I’m always working.”
CHAPTER THREE
“So we’re done?” Dash asked when Thorne emerged from the bathroom.
“Yes.” Thorne had never wanted Marc or any of the other rent boys to stay. But Dash… No. Thorne had work to do. Days’ worth of work and he only had until his midday flight on Sunday to finish it. Playtime was over.
Dash didn’t say anything else. He simply picked up his clothes and headed into the bathroom. Thorne watched his ass every step of the way, sinking his teeth into his lower lip to keep from calling him back.
When he sat down at his desk, he deliberately shifted in his seat, enjoying how sore he was. Once he heard the shower spray, he turned his attention to his laptop. By the time Dash exited the bathroom, Thorne had written a large chunk of the first report he needed to finish. He glanced at the time. Wow, Dash had been in there for half an hour. Surely he hadn’t needed to jack off again. “You do have hot water at home, right?”
“Yes,” Dash said. “As you pointed out, I’m well compensated, though my shower is about half that size.”
Thorne did like the luxuries his hard work had earned him, and the extra-large shower was one of his favorite indulgences. But was that bitterness in Dash’s tone? He hadn’t meant to be an ass, again. “I didn’t mean—”
Dash held up a hand. “I have sex for money. It’s my choice. It’s a hell of a lot more fun than other things I could do to save up for school, trust me.”
Thorne wouldn’t dispute that. Working retail or any service industry job was just a different way of getting screwed. As long as the clients were vetted—and Thorne knew they were—and Dash had a say in whom he worked for… Yeah, it could be much worse.
“You sure you don’t want me to stay?” Dash chose that moment to unhook the towel he’d wrapped around his waist and let it drop. Thorne couldn’t resist giving him a thorough once-over.