CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
After discarding jackets, vests, bowties, and shoes—the most comfortable dress shoes Dash had ever owned—Thorne and Dash reclined on Thorne’s couch with glasses of whiskey. Dash agreed to abandon his usual rule of not drinking while working as long as Thorne didn’t want anything kinky.
Thorne pouted. “I was hoping we could play pirate mutiny. But instead of walking the plank…”
Dash shook his head. “You’re really drunk.”
Thorne giggled, proving Dash’s point. “Peggy’s a very wise woman.”
Dash tried to follow Thorne’s line of thinking. “Peggy? The museum director?”
He nodded. “She buys good champagne, so everyone drinks. Drunk people buy paintings. They often regret it later, but returns aren’t accepted.” He laughed so hard he actually gripped his sides, but a few seconds later, he looked up at Dash, expression far more serious.
“Was Collins a former client?”
“The man you punched?” Dash had never known his name.
Thorne nodded.
“I only saw him once.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Not seriously, but he…wasn’t kind.”
The fire that had been in Thorne’s eyes when he’d punched Collins returned. “I have connections. I could get him disbarred.”
As much as Thorne’s protectiveness turned him on, Dash didn’t want him to do that. “I’m not a princess in need of a knight.”
Thorne fingered one of his shirt buttons. “You sure as hell could pass for a prince all dressed up like this.”
It was a bad sign that Dash loved Thorne’s drunken flattery. “Kiss me.”
Thorne did, soft and sweet, taking his time, touching Dash so gently it was more a caress of lips than a kiss. There was no wild rush of passion, yet when Thorne pulled back, Dash wanted nothing more than to be fucked by him. No, that wasn’t right. He wanted Thorne to make love to him because that would erase the ugliness of the night. Dash rarely hated what he did, but that night, that odious bastard Collins had made him ashamed. Thorne could erase the feeling.
Thorne brushed the back of his hand over Dash’s cheek. “Don’t let that son of a bitch make you feel bad.”
“Make me feel good instead.” Dash’s voice cracked. Thorne was seeing him at his worst.
“There’s nothing I want more.” Thorne’s breath was warm against his ear.
Dash’s embarrassment dissipated because Thorne understood what he needed. It was what Thorne himself often needed.
Dash remembered for a moment that Thorne was a client and Dash was there to pleasure him. “Are you sure? If you’d rather—”
“There’s nothing I’d rather do than please you. Forget why you’re really here. Your only job right now is to feel.”
Dash did feel, so keenly it hurt. Would he survive this?
“Let’s go to bed,” Thorne said.
Dash stood on shaky legs. Thorne took hold of his shoulders and turned him around.
“Move. I need to spread you out and open you up. I can’t do that on the fucking couch.”
Dash’s mouth went dry, and his cock tried to push through the snug pants of his new tux. Somehow, he managed to walk across the room, hurried along by Thorne.
“Strip,” Thorne demanded when they were standing at the end of the bed.
Dash turned and studied Thorne as he rubbed his thumb over Thorne’s lower lip. He needed to feel that fullness, so he rose up and ran his tongue across it.
Thorne gasped, grabbed Dash’s waistband, and hauled him up against his firm body. “If you’re going to tease me, I’ll strip you myself.”
“Don’t damage this thing getting it off me,” Dash insisted. “I’ve never owned anything like this.”
“I’ll buy you another one.”
“The fuck you will.”
Thorne shoved Dash’s pants and briefs to his feet, and Dash kicked them off. Then Thorne lifted each of Dash’s arms, removing the cufflinks and tossing them—with surprisingly good aim—into a bowl on his dresser. When he started work on Dash’s buttons, Dash could feel his impatience. He was going to rip the fucking shirt.
“Let me.” But Dash’s hands were no quicker. They were shaking from anticipation, need, and a hint of embarrassment at how unnerved he was.
Thorne batted his hands away, undid the first two buttons and then tugged on his wrists to indicate that he should lift his arms. Thorne pulled the shirt off and tossed it onto a chair. Then he put a hand in the middle of Dash’s chest and pushed. “Lie down, spread for me, and let me do the work.”
Dash stretched out on his back and watched as Thorne undressed himself more efficiently than he had Dash. He kept his briefs on, and Dash raised a brow.
“If I don’t have some kind of barrier between us, I’ll be inside you before I get halfway through what I have planned.”
Dash grinned and licked his lips with deliberate slowness. “I’m not sure I care.”
“I do. You deserve this.”
Dash didn’t want Thorne to feel that way. Not unless… “Thorne, you don’t—”
“Yes, I do.”
There was no talking for a while after that. Thorne touched Dash everywhere, his mouth following his hands. He nuzzled Dash’s cock, but refused to take it in his mouth. Dash reached for him to force the issue, but Thorne pinned his hands to the mattress and kept going, licking his balls, nibbling his inner thighs, driving him out of his fucking mind.
“Fuck, Thorne. Don’t tease me.”
“What happened to anticipation being the best thing ever?” Thorne asked.
“Shut up!”
Thorne chuckled. “Turn over.”
“You’ll have to let go of my wrists first.”
“That’s too bad. I liked you struggling under me.”
Dash gave him a mock scowl. “Is this payback?”
“No.” Thorne’s tone was serious now. “I don’t need to get revenge. You knew just what I needed, and now I want to do the same for you.”
Dash shuddered as he turned onto his stomach. Thorne’s words were dangerous. Thorne had always been an amazing lover, never one to demand his money’s worth and give nothing in return. But this was still just sex, wasn’t it?
Thorne started at Dash’s feet, rubbing them and then massaging his calf muscles. Dash was in an odd state of utterly relaxed and horny as fuck. His legs felt boneless, weights against the mattress. But his cock was hard as a rock. He couldn’t help shifting against the bed, trying to get more friction.
“Hold still and let me love you,” Thorne complained.
Love? This did feel like love.
Thorne’s firm touch eased tight muscles all the way up Dash’s body. By the time Thorne reached his shoulders, Dash was utterly under his spell, floating as if Thorne had taken him to another place.
“Pull you knees under you. It’s time to open you up.”
“Fuck.” The word came out as a whisper.
“Yes…eventually.”
Dash couldn’t quite remember how to control his body. Finally, he managed to wake enough from his massage-induced daze to do as Thorne said.
Thorne reached under him and gave his cock a single stroke. “So fucking hard for me,” he murmured.
Dash bit down on his lower lip to keep from whimpering and begging for more.
“You will not come until I say so, understand?”
“Thorne.” Dash hated the whine in his voice.
Thorne laid a hand at the base of Dash’s spine. Firm pressure, nothing truly sexual, but as far as Dash was concerned, Thorne might as well be stroking his cock again.
“Please,” Dash begged, not even sure what he was asking.
“Relax.”
“Isn’t that my line?” Dash meant it to be humorous, but the words sounded desperate, confused.
“Tell me to stop if there’s anything you don’t like. Otherwise, relax and enjoy.” Thorne was utterly serious.
“O-okay.”
Thorne pulled Dash’s ass cheeks apart and groaned. The sound ran through Dash like a current, lighting up every part of him that wasn’t already restless.
“We’re taking this slow.” Thorne’s face was so close to his hole Dash could feel his breath there. He squirmed, trying to free himself, but Thorne dug his fingers into Dash’s ass.
Then he licked Dash’s hole; fucking licked it.
“Th-Thorne?”
“I said I was going to open you up.” His tone was calm, casual, not at all appropriate for what was happening.
“Oh my fucking God!”
Thorne circled Dash’s entrance with his tongue and then pushed at the tight muscle.
Dash jerked, the sensation beyond intense. Just the thought of Thorne rimming him could probably make him come. No client had ever done that.
“Breathe,” Thorne reminded him.
“Please.” Dash needed more, so much more.
“Please what?”
“Please. Your tongue. Fuck me.” He’d lost the ability to be coherent.
Thorne speared Dash’s ass. Pushing deeper, tongue splitting him open. Dash was going to come apart. He couldn’t hold back, couldn’t take it.
Thorne clamped a hand around the base of Dash’s shaft and squeezed hard, holding him back.
“Thorne!”
“Yes?” His voice was low, ridiculously calm.
“I need…”
“Yes?” The bastard laughed.
“Stop fucking around.”
“You don’t like this?”
“I fucking love it and you know that, but I’m going to lose my fucking mind if you don’t give me more,” Dash shouted.
“More? Okay.”
Thorne thrust his tongue back in and worked it in and out, getting Dash slicked up and ending all resistance.
“Fuck, Thorne. Fuck!”
Thorne squeezed Dash’s cock harder. “Not yet.”
Dash laid his head on his arms. He was dripping sweat and his whole body seemed to vibrate, his skin buzzing as if electrified. “Thorne?” He heard the sound of a condom wrapper tearing. Thank fuck.
Thorne moved behind him again, but he didn’t enter him. Instead he lay over him, fitting his cock into the crack of Dash’s ass. “Turn over,” he said, right against Dash’s ear. “I want to see you when you come.”
Dash considered protesting, unsure if he could do what Thorne asked. Thorne would be able to see into Dash’s soul when he was like this. Thorne hadn’t been kidding about opening him up. Dash didn’t think he had any barriers left after what Thorne had done. He turned over anyway, because he also wanted to see Thorne, wanted to watch his eyes light up when he pushed inside Dash.
Thorne pressed against the back of Dash’s thighs, doubling his legs on his chest. He gazed down at Dash, his pupils huge. “So fucking perfect. All ready for my cock.”
Dash nodded frantically. He was more than ready.
“Stay just like this. Open wide for me.”
Dash held his legs, pinned in place by the force of Thorne’s gaze and by his own need. But his mind screamed for him to shut down, to keep Thorne from seeing into him like this, because his ass wasn’t the only thing open for Thorne. His heart was open too, and while he might feel the intensity of this fuck for days, he didn’t think the wounds Thorne might inflict on his heart would ever heal.
This was it. Dash could still run. If he stayed, he risked losing himself in Thorne. But his heart was already damaged. If you run, do you really think you could just forget him?
He wouldn’t, but having Thorne inside him after he’d stuck his fucking tongue in Dash’s ass was going to be more dangerous to Dash than anything he’d done before. Even the sweet, soft kisses.
“Thorne. Thorne, I…”
Thorne looked up from where he was lining up his cock. His eyes widened at Dash’s expression. “Are you okay?”
“I’m…” What the fuck was he supposed to say? That he was scared? That sounded absurd, and he wasn’t sure Thorne would understand. Why would he be afraid? He’d bottomed for Thorne plenty of times. But he’d been in control. This was Thorne truly taking him.
“No. Just. I…need you.” He wasn’t going to run.
“I need you too, baby.” Thorne pushed forward then, breaching Dash’s ass. Dash wrapped his arms around Thorne’s neck and his legs around Thorne’s back, holding him close as Thorne drove into him, his rhythm fast but not punishing, just rough enough to keep Dash from overthinking. Thorne was loving him. It was physical and beautiful, but Dash wanted more.
He buried his face in Thorne’s shoulder to hide the tears in his eyes.
“Harder,” he whispered, hoping Thorne would think his voice was rough because of lust not sadness.
Thorne fucked him harder, faster. “Thorne, please!” He needed to come because Thorne inside him felt so good he couldn’t stand it. He was literally crying for more.
“Dash! Oh God. This is so good. So fucking good. I don’t want to stop. Don’t want this to end but—”
He brushed Dash’s prostate and Dash cried out, bucking against Thorne, desperate to come, but needing just a little more to go over. He reached between their bodies so he could jack himself off, and Thorne sat back, drawing Dash’s legs over his shoulders. Thorne pushed his hand away and jacked his cock for him, holding him tight, moving his hand fast and twisting it over the top. Dash bucked, squirmed, struggled, needing more. And then suddenly he was there. Hot cum shooting from his cock, splashing all the way to his neck. It was truly a release that seemed to drain him of everything. Tension leached from his body, and he collapsed, no longer aware of anything but Thorne’s harsh, quick breaths. Had he come too?
Thorne pulled out, still hard. Maybe he hadn’t. He rolled the condom off his dick. “I want to come on you.”
Dash sucked in his breath, not sure why that was so fucking hot. “Please.”
Thorne rose over him and gripped his cock. Dash shifted so his arms were over his head. He couldn’t take his eyes off Thorne’s hand. Dash felt his own cock twitch as Thorne’s cock grew redder, his balls high and tight. He was so close. So ready.
“Cover me in cum, Thorne. I want to fucking bathe in it.”
“Fuck!” Thorne came then, thick ropes of spunk joining Dash’s own on his chest and abdomen.
When Thorne finished, he remained still, hanging over Dash, eyes closed, head bowed. “That was…”
Dash ran his hand over his sticky torso and held it up to Thorne. Thorne sucked each finger one by one. Then he lapped at Dash’s palm. “So good. Almost enough to make me ready again.”
Dash’s cock was all for that, but he didn’t say it, because his need was as painful as it was pleasurable. “We should take a break.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Thorne rolled onto his back, and they both stared at the ceiling. Dash longed to know what Thorne was thinking. If only his thoughts were the same as Dash’s. That they belonged together.
THORNE WOKE TO the smell of pancakes and coffee and the clatter of pans in the kitchen. He rolled over and smiled as his muscles twinged from the previous evening’s exertions. As he kicked off the covers, he glanced at the time. Dash would go soon. After the intensity of what he’d felt the night before, he couldn’t let Dash leave without making him an offer. Dash wasn’t taking any more clients if Thorne could prevent it.
He pulled on his robe and wandered to the bathroom where he relieved himself and brushed his teeth so Dash would enjoy the first kiss of the day. He looked in the mirror. Too little sleep and too much fucking made every one of his years visible in the early morning light. Maybe a shower first?
“Thorne, are you up?” Dash called.
“Yes.”
“Good. I’m making pancakes; come tell me what kind you want.”
Thorne’s heart pounded. “I’ll be there in a second.”
Walk out that door and ask him.
Thorne walked out the door. Dash stood in the kitchen in boxer-briefs and an apron, his hair standing up, flour on his face. He looked young, painfully young, and happy and energetic. I can always ask him after breakfast.
Thorne poured himself a cup of coffee, took a few sips, wrapped his arms around Dash from behind and checked out the batter he was stirring.
“Mmm. Good morning,” Dash said, turning to give Thorne a light kiss.
“Yes, I think it will be.” Holding Dash like this, things felt right again. They were no different than they’d been last night, when they were so close, so connected. Maybe Dash would say yes.
“I can make banana, blueberry, chocolate chip, or plain. What do you want?”
“Wow, I haven’t had chocolate chip pancakes since…I don’t know…college.”
Dash shook his head. “That’s a crime. You’re going to have some right now.”
He reached into a canvas market bag on the counter and pulled out a bag of chips. Thorne watched, arms still around him, as he opened them and poured them into a dish, which he set next to the stove.
“Do you want to learn the art of pancake making?” Dash asked.
“No, I just can’t stop touching you.” Thorne moved in closer, nuzzling Dash’s neck and breathing deeply of his scent.
Dash slapped playfully at his hands. “Watch if you want, but no way in hell can I concentrate with you so close.”
Thorne smiled. “Fair enough.” If things went well, he wouldn’t have to wait a week to touch Dash again.
Ask him.
After breakfast.
Coward.
I’m just hungry.
“Go. Sit.” Dash gestured toward the barstools on the opposite side of the counter.
Thorne took his coffee and sat. He watched Dash sprinkle water on the griddle. The droplets sizzled and danced around.
“What was that for?” Thorne asked.
“To see if it was hot enough. You really don’t know how to make pancakes?”
“I understand the basic theory but…no, not ones you’d want to eat,” Thorne confessed.
“I really should teach you some basics.”
Thorne shook his head. “I’m hopeless. Besides, it’s more fun to watch you do it.”
Dash gave him a mock scowl and poured out batter on the griddle. When there were six perfect circles there, he sprinkled each with chocolate chips.
Thorne glanced at his tablet, which was charging at the end of the bar. He should at least check his work e-mail. A few months ago he would have been up early, e-mailing, typing reports, checking in on different projects no matter that it was the weekend. His time with Dash had helped him break those habits, and now, he didn’t even want to see those messages, didn’t want to take any chances that some crisis might rob them of their time together. He’d begun to see the world differently, to want things he hadn’t thought he’d ever want. There was so much more to life than his job. How the fuck had he let himself forget that?
He needed to go sailing again. Hell, he needed to look into buying a boat.
A few moments later, Dash served the pancakes, and Thorne couldn’t resist taking a bite immediately. They were fluffy and perfect with just the right amount of chocolate chips to make them extra decadent but not so many that they took away from the buttery perfection of the pancake itself. “These may be the best pancakes I’ve ever eaten.”
Dash settled into his chair and placed a bowl of fruit salad next to Thorne’s plate. “I’m glad you like them.” Dash took a bite and smiled as he chewed. “These did turn out really well.”
“Have you ever cooked anything that didn’t?”
Dash laughed. “Trust me, I’ve had my share of disasters. There’s a learning curve for everything, but I’m proud of what I can do in the kitchen now.”
“I feel privileged to have you share it with me.”
“I love cooking for someone as appreciative as you.” Dash gave him that sparkling grin, the one that always did him in.
This is a great time to segue into your offer.
“Dash?”
Dash looked up and set his fork down. The look in his eyes concern, fear. Fuck, how could Thorne keep going now?
“I’ve been thinking about our arrangement and…”
“Yes?” Less fear showed in Dash’s eyes now. Was that a good sign?
“I hate it when you leave. I wish I could see more of you, and…”
Dash motioned for him to go on. He was leaning forward. Tense. Intent.
Thorne swallowed. Say it. “I was wondering if you’d like to work for me full time.”
Dash jumped as if startled. His hand knocked into his juice glass, and it turned over. Orange juice ran all over the table and poured off the side. Neither of them moved.
Thorne knew he had said the wrong thing. He frantically thought how to take the look of horror off Dash’s face. “Let me explain. I want you to cook for me, not just—”
“Shut up!” Dash pushed back from the table. The look of devastation on his face made Thorne sick. The pancake lay in his stomach, weighing him down.
“Please, I—”
“Just stop. You’ve said e-fucking-nough. I can’t believe this. I thought… You’re actually offering to hire me full time. To be… Oh my God.”
Dash ran to the bedroom. Thorne followed, watching him grab his bag and toss it on the bed. He grabbed Dash’s arm, but Dash wrenched free. “Don’t touch me.”
Oh God. How had he screwed up so badly? “Dash, please.”
Dash ignored him, continuing to pack his things, even the things he’d started leaving at Thorne’s place.
Thorne had to get his attention. “Riley.”
Dash turned around, and for a moment Thorne braced for a punch. “Don’t you dare call me that. You’ve just made it very clear that you never thought of me that way. I’m nothing but an employee, and my working name is Dash. Don’t worry, though. You won’t need to call me anything. I won’t be coming back.”
Thorne had to do something. The look of shock and pain on Dash’s face was killing him. “I made a mistake.”
“Yeah, maybe your biggest one ever.”
“Look, I didn’t mean—”
“You really thought I’d agree to let you hide me away here? To be your 24/7 dirty secret?” Dash shook his head. “I actually thought… Fuck!”
“Dash, I didn’t explain things right. Please just listen to me.”
“No. That’s where I went wrong to start with. Listening to you, believing you, not so much what you said, but what you didn’t say, what you… Oh fuck.” He slammed his fist against the top of Thorne’s dresser. “I actually thought you were going to ask me to stay because you wanted me for me.”
“I do.”
“No, you want to own me,” Dash snarled.
“That’s not—”
“You want me to work for you.”
Was this about him not being out? “Dash, I don’t know if I can give you what you want, but at least talk to me about it.”
“You could give me everything, but you won’t.”
Could he? What did Dash want? “I… Let me explain.”
“No, I’m done being an idiot.”
“You know I care for you. That I’ve never—”
Dash pushed Thorne out of his way and headed toward the door. “I don’t want to hear anymore. I don’t just care for you. I love you, or at least I did.”
“You…what?” Thorne couldn’t believe it. His head spun. Dash…loved him? Oh, fuck. He’d ruined everything.
Dash turned to face him. “I love you. Are you happy? Does it make your heart sing that you conquered me, that you succeeded in owning one more thing?”
Tears burned behind Thorne’s eyes. If he’d had any idea Dash’s feelings went that deep, that he truly… “Dash, I never—”
“Right, that’s why you just offered to keep me here as your trophy.”
“No, that’s not it. I thought if you didn’t need to work for Sheila, then we could have a chance to be togeth—”
“Together? Seriously? What bullshit. If I worked for you, there would be no together, just business.”
“Then what the fuck has been going on for the last few months?”
Dash shook his head. “I thought I’d figured that out, but you just made it very clear that I was wrong.”
Dash walked out then, slamming the door behind him.
Thorne almost chased after him, but what would be the point? Dash hated him. What chance did he have now?
You knew better. You son of a bitch, you knew better. Hiring him? What did you think he’d say?
I should have phrased it differently, made it more clear what I was actually asking him to do.
You didn’t want him enough to do that.
I did. I wanted him more than anything.
Thorne sank onto the couch and buried his head in his hands. Sobs wracked his body until he couldn’t cry anymore. Then he lay down and covered himself with a blanket, hoping he could sleep forever.