CHAPTER SIX
“God, you’re hot,” Dash said, breath catching on each word.
Thorne tried to speak but decided it was too much effort.
Dash rose off Thorne’s back. “I need to get rid of the condom. Brace yourself.”
Thorne winced when Dash pulled out.
“You okay? I got kinda rough.”
That was an understatement. “I fucking loved it.”
Dash walked away for a few seconds. Thorne hadn’t moved when he came back.
Dash skimmed the tips of his fingers over the now throbbing bite on Thorne’s shoulder. “That was hot and unexpected.”
“So I like to be bitten. It’s not all that unusual.”
“No, but still unexpected for you.”
Thorne forced himself to turn over so he could prop himself against the arm of the couch and look at Dash. “I wear suits. No one’s going to see it.”
“But you’ll feel it. Just like the plug. Anticipation.”
“For next week?” Once again, Thorne felt overexposed. He wasn’t comfortable with how much he wanted Dash, and he sure as hell didn’t want Dash seeing through him.
Dash spread the blanket back out before settling on the couch next to Thorne. “You know, you might consider getting a slip cover for this couch if you enjoy fucking on it so much.”
“I’ve never…” Heat filled Thorne’s face. He hadn’t wanted to admit that he’d never even been tempted to fuck on the couch with anyone else. He’d always been content to walk the thirty or so feet to the bedroom. “You’re right. I should probably order one.”
Dash grinned. “You’ve never fucked on this couch before, have you?”
Why did he always see what Thorne wanted to hide? “No, damn it. You… You make me crazy.”
“I aim to please.”
“Well, you do. Very much.” No point in denying it.
Dash drew Thorne’s legs up and over his lap. “I like this side of you. Biting. Fucking on the couch. Eating cupcakes. Being fed cupcakes. Wearing plugs. I want to see more of it.”
Thorne didn’t like the direction his thoughts were taking. Dash was damn good at pushing Thorne’s buttons, and Thorne enjoyed Dash taking charge way more than he wanted to. But that’s why I hire an escort. I want a professional, and Dash knows what he’s doing, that’s all.
“You’re frowning. What are you thinking about?”
Thorne gave him a wry smile. “My name is Thornwell Shipton, and I’m a control freak.”
Dash patted Thorne’s thigh. “Very good. Confession is the beginning of healing.”
Thorne sighed. “I hate how much I love it when you dominate me.”
Dash ran the tips of his fingers over Thorne’s abdomen in a soothing caress. “I know you do.”
“I don’t want you to stop. I…”
“Want more?”
“Yes.” Thorne pulled Dash down for a kiss. Dash moved so he could straddle Thorne and deepen the kiss. This time they were gentle, teasing, playful, without the rush of passion that had come before. When Dash pulled back, he laid his head on Thorne’s chest, and Thorne wrapped his arms around Dash, holding him there and simply breathing, refusing to let himself think about how out of character this was for him. Dash shifted position to get more comfortable and for a few moments neither of them spoke.
Then Thorne’s phone went off, interrupting them. He cut off the ringer. The junior consultant who’d called him despite being told Friday nights were off limits could wait. But he hadn’t been able to keep himself from seeing the time. It was already eleven. How the hell had three whole hours passed?
Dash started to pull way, but Thorne stopped him. “Stay.”
He could feel Dash smile against his chest. “For someone who doesn’t cuddle, you’re doing a damn fine job.”
“This isn’t—”
Dash raised a brow and looked up, his expression clearly telling Thorne to stop bullshitting.
“Fine, but you told me to stop rushing everything.”
“That’s right. Orgasms should be savored just like cupcakes. In fact, you just might be as tasty as a cupcake.”
Thorne scoffed. “I’m no cupcake.”
Dash rose off him enough to study him critically as if seriously considering the matter. “If you were, you’d be a dark, rich one, spicy, with a surprise in the center. Maybe Mexican chocolate with a warm cinnamon ganache filling that oozes out when you bite into it, surprising you with its sweetness.”
Fucking hell if that didn’t turn Thorne on. How did Dash manage it? “If I hadn’t just come twice, I’d be hard again after that.”
“Ooh. Let me know when you’re ready for another round, and I’ll describe a full seven-course meal.”
Thorne closed his eyes and imagined Dash’s smooth voice telling him all about exotic delights. “I might jump you before you finished.”
Dash smiled. “Speaking of going another round, I did win our little wager.”
“I helped you win, so I’m not sure that counts.”
“If a client tells you how to seal a deal, does that contract still count?”
Thorne hated Dash being right. “Fine. You win.”
“Trust me, my winning is you winning. Next week we follow my plan.”
Thorne didn’t like how self-satisfied he looked. “Just what is that plan?”
“I have no intention of spoiling the surprise.”
Thorne glared at him. “I hate surprises.”
“You’re not thinking of reneging, are you?”
“No, I am not.”
“You’ll love it.” Dash shifted off Thorne. “Should I go now?”
Thorne pondered the question. “I should work, but I don’t want to.”
“Do you always do what you’re supposed to?”
“Yes. Well, most of the time. This evening would be an example of not doing as I should.”
“Hiring me?”
“Yes. But you are a want not a should.”
“I hope so. I’d hate to find out you were being required to pay for a fuck every Friday night.”
Thorne laughed. “I wonder who exactly would be giving these orders?”
Dash tilted his head like he was thinking hard. “I’m not sure, but I bet we could create a very hot role play around it.”
Thorne considered the idea.
“You look intrigued.”
“Maybe.”
Dash’s grin was positively filthy. “I’ll file that away. You want to share anything specific?”
Thorne shook his head. “Not now. I should shower and get back to work.”
Instead of moving out of his way, Dash sat back down, straddling Thorne’s lap. “What if you didn’t work tonight?”
“Look, I—” For once, just do what you want. Let him stay. “What would you propose if I said you could stay?”
“More cupcakes and then more of me.”
Thorne considered the offer. “Have you had dinner?”
“Wait, you haven’t?” Dash looked horrified.
“I’d only been home from the airport for about twenty minutes before you arrived.”
“Then you must be starving, even after the cupcakes.”
“I am rather hungry,” Thorne said. “I’m assuming from your continued needling about my lack of a life that you’re free for the rest of the night.”
Dash nodded. “I am.”
“Then let’s go get something to eat.”
“I like this plan. How late is the Austrian place open?”
Oh shit, could he take Dash there? Or would their being out together scream desperate man out with his male escort? Why should it? He was being paranoid. “As late as I want it to be, but the atmosphere is rather stuffy and formal despite the waiters’ flirtatious attitude.”
Dash rolled his eyes. “This isn’t Pretty Woman. I know all my utensils, and I can even order us a decent wine.”
Fuck. He’d just insulted Dash; again. “I didn’t mean—”
Dash waved away his apology. “My mother was very into appearances. She even made me do cotillion. They wouldn’t let me dance with the other boys, though. It was most disappointing.”
Thorne rolled his eyes. “I bet.”
WHEN THEY ENTERED the restaurant, Thorne held the door for Dash. It was a simple gesture, but Dash appreciated being treated like a date rather than hired help. Despite how late it was, there were people waiting for tables, but as soon as the hostess saw Thorne, she offered to show them to a private corner table and left them with menus and a wine list.
Dash couldn’t resist the urge to tease. He leaned forward and looked at Thorne over his menu. “These napkins are made of actual cloth. How fancy.”
“Am I never going to hear the end of this?”
“I might eventually let it go.” Or not. Thorne’s assumption that he might not be comfortable at a fine-dining restaurant had stung, but not so bad that he couldn’t dismiss it. He simply liked keeping Thorne off guard. He glanced at the list of entrees. “What do you recommend?”
Thorne was watching Dash. He’d yet to touch his menu. “I always order the sauerbraten.”
“Then I challenge you to order something else.”
Thorne glared at him, but a waiter approached before he had a chance to reply.
“Hi, I’m Jordan, and I will be assisting you tonight. Would you like to hear about our special?”
“Yes, very much,” Dash said, smiling at the waiter in a way he was certain would ingratiate him. He might not have Thorne’s money, but he could often use charm to get what he wanted, a great quality to have in his profession.
Dash smiled at Jordan as he described the special—beef rolled with carrots, onions, and bacon. Dash glanced at Thorne just as Jordan finished speaking. He studied Dash, probably not even listening to the server. Thorne didn’t approve of him flirting with someone else. Dash rather liked that, and he was also going to use it to his advantage.
“We’ll both have the dinner special, and we’ll have the kartoffelpuffer to start. We haven’t chosen a wine yet, but bring us each your best bourbon, neat,” Dash said.
The waiter glanced at Thorne who looked stunned. “Mr. Shipton?”
Thorne made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “That’s fine. Thank you.”
When Jordan walked away, Thorne stared at Dash with what appeared to be a mixture of shock, annoyance, and humor. “You ordered for us.”
“I did. I was afraid you wouldn’t try something new if I didn’t push.”
“How do you know I like…whatever it is you ordered.”
“You weren’t even listening, were you?”
Thorne scowled at him. “I was distracted.”
“I do seem to have that effect on you, but you had a chance to change your order and you didn’t take it.”
“No, I didn’t. Dinner will just be a surprise.”
Dash studied him. “You told me you hated surprises.”
“I do.”
EXCEPT WITH DASH, he didn’t. That thought terrified Thorne, because it meant that Dash had the power to change him. Dash was a hired companion. No, he was a hired fuck. He’d told Dash he wasn’t looking for someone to talk to. What was he doing?
“You know what, I don’t think this is a good idea after all. I should go.”
He pushed back from the table, but Dash put a hand over his. “Stay. Would it make it easier if this were off the clock?”
God no, that would make it worse. This would be a date, and he’d have to admit… Thorne shook his head. “No. That’s got nothing to do with it.” That had everything to do with it.
Dash raised a brow. “You should eat. I won’t keep you after that.”
Thorne sat back down, his heart hammering. Dash was so beautiful, everything he wanted but… He was twenty-two, and he was there because Thorne paid him, no matter how much it seemed otherwise.
He just offered to stay off the clock.
He has to eat, and I’m paying for dinner.
“Do you trust me to know how to pleasure you?” Dash asked, keeping his voice low.
“Yes,” Thorne answered automatically.
“Food is just another form of pleasure. It’s a sensual experience just like sex. It’s fitting that I’m an escort and a chef. The two go together perfectly.”
Thorne couldn’t take his eyes off Dash. The man had wrapped him in a spell, his voice, the look in his eyes, even the fucking beautiful way his lips moved as he spoke, hot as hell. “Tell me what you ordered for us, in detail.”
Thorne could tell by the way Dash’s lips curled up in a devious smile that he’d understood Thorne’s meaning. Thorne wanted Dash to describe the food in a way that would make Thorne hard, the way he’d talked about cupcakes earlier.
“I ordered the kartoffelpuffer, potato pancakes. They’ll be crispy on the outside, but when you bite in, you’ll taste the potato. Soft. Smooth. Hot. For our main course, we’ll have beef rouladen, soft, succulent beef covered with tangy mustard and wrapped around savory bacon and sweet, thinly-sliced onions and carrots. The butteriness of the beef, spice of the mustard, and salt of the bacon will tantalize your mouth. I promise you’ll love it.”
Dash kept his voice pitched low, and he spoke slowly, dragging out his vowels. By the time he finished, Thorne was half-hard and considering whether to ask for dinner to go and drag Dash back to his apartment.
“LIKED THAT DID you?” Dash asked, well aware of his skill and Thorne’s reaction.
“Fuck yes, I did.” Thorne’s voice was scratchy with need. Would he be asking for another round after dinner?
“Just wait until I order dessert,” Dash said.
“We’ve already had cupcakes.”
“We had a lot of things that were sweet, but I”—Dash licked his lips and closed his eyes—“believe you can never have too much.”
Dash slipped his foot out of his shoe and lifted his leg, pushing his foot into Thorne’s lap. Thorne’s eyes widened as Dash pressed against him, discovering that, as he’d expected, Thorne’s cock would be more than happy to have dessert.
“Quit that. Our server is headed this way.” Thorne looked horrified.
Smiling, Dash lowered his leg and slipped his shoe back on.
Jordan set the kartoffelpuffer and their bourbons on the table. “Did you choose a wine to go with your entree?”
“Yes,” Thorne said. “We’ll have the Dornfelder.”
“Excellent choice. Do you need anything else?”
“No. Thank you.”
“Then enjoy.” Jordan left them.
Dash used his fork to spear one of the cakes, and Thorne followed suit. Dash tasted his carefully. They were still piping hot. “Mmmm.” He closed his eyes to better enjoy the taste. A perfect blend of saltiness and quality-potato flavor. When he finished savoring his bite, he realized Thorne was staring at him; glaring, more like.
“How did you learn to be so…” He waved a hand. “Did you go to seduction school or what?”
Dash laughed. “If there were an Escort Academy, it would be nothing like most people would imagine. Most of us are already quite comfortable with our sexuality when we’re hired. It’s the unexpected parts of the job—being a therapist, career consultant, personal shopper, companion to a sports enthusiast—most of us could use help with.”
“So were you just born knowing how to make men want you?” Thorne looked annoyed that seduction came so easy to Dash.
“Were you born knowing how to swagger around the office and tell people what to do?”
“I don’t—”
Dash raised his brows, and Thorne stopped his feeble protest.
“I learned some of that from my dad and the rest from the man who hired me.” Thorne looked as though he wanted to add more but ultimately, he didn’t.
Thorne finally tasted his kartoffelpuffer then. His response was nearly as dramatic as Dash’s had been. “These are amazing.”
Dash smiled. “They are.” Since Thorne had answered his earlier question honestly, Dash gave a little more. “Most escorts learn from someone else in the business who thinks we’d make a good candidate and coaches us.”
“Did Marc teach you?”
Thorne’s expression told Dash he didn’t like the idea. Was he jealous? Dash wasn’t sure he should analyze how that made him feel. “Yes.”
“Were you lovers?” Before Dash could answer Thorne held up a hand. “That was probably out of line.”
“Possibly. Marc and I were occasional fuck buddies, but lovers, as in boyfriends, no. Marc’s way too much of a prima donna for me.”
Thorne laughed. “He is rather particular, but he’s good at letting go when he’s in the mood to.”
“He really knows how to top a reluctant bottom, and he can also surrender beautifully when a client is in the mood. I see why he worked for you.” They would have been beautiful together. He’d love to watch Marc pin Thorne down and make him beg the way Dash had.
“That’s a sexy smile. What are you thinking about?” Thorne asked.
“A threeway.”
Thorne sputtered as if he’d swallowed the wrong way. “With Marc and…”
“You,” Dash said.
Thorne stared, looking torn between nervousness and desire.
“Don’t worry. Marc’s in California, so it won’t go beyond fantasy.”
THORNE NODDED. “THAT’S probably best.” As hot as it would be to see Marc and Dash together, Thorne wanted Dash all to himself. He wanted to cocoon him away from the world and pretend… Pretend what exactly? That they were lovers, boyfriends? That was absurd. “I’m not good at sharing attention.”
Dash rolled his eyes. “Of course you’re not.”
Jordan arrived then with their dinner, and Thorne was glad to have something to focus on other than the lust in Dash’s eyes. His entree was exactly as Dash had described, and it smelled amazing.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” The server deliberately looked at Thorne. “Was the appetizer to your liking?”
“Very much so. Dash, do you need anything?”
Dash looked up, surprised. “Oh, no. This is excellent, thank you.”
Jordan nodded and backed away.
“They aren’t used to me bringing anyone here who’s not as old and boring as I am.”
Dash studied Thorne like he’d never seen him before. “First of all, you’re not old; sure, you’re older than me, but—”
Thorne shook his head. “Stop while you’re ahead.”
“But boring? Not for one second have I thought you were boring.”
“I work. That’s all I do. Most people find creating business plans to be about as exciting as sitting in an empty room.”
“That’s what you do? Make business plans?”
Thorne shrugged. “More or less.”
“You appreciate good food, you’re generous, kind, and did I mention hot? You know how to flirt and how to play when you want to. None of that is boring.”
Did Dash really see him that way? “It’s hardly in your interest to name your client’s faults.”
“I already know you’re pleased with my work, so I had no reason to contradict you if I didn’t mean it.”
He had a point.
They ate in silence for the next few moments. The rouladen was possibly even better than the sauerbraten, but it still didn’t beat the company. By the end of dinner, Thorne was contemplating asking Dash to spend the night, which told him it was way past time for him to go home, alone. “Should I call you a car?” Thorne asked as they rose from the table.
“No, I can walk.”
Thorne frowned. “How far do you have to go?”
Dash bristled. “I can take care of myself.”
“Maybe I want to take care of you.”
Dash’s brow wrinkled in annoyance. Thorne found it ridiculously fetching. “I don’t need—”
“It’s not about need. I’ll call a car, pay the driver, and send you on your way. You don’t have to tell me where you live, okay? I’m not going to stalk you.” Or not much, anyway. He’d checked Dash out before Dash came to his apartment the first time, the same as he’d done with every escort he’d hired.
Dash smiled. “It’s not that. I’m just not used to anyone taking care of me. I’ve been on my own for a while now.”
“You took care of me tonight. I’m just returning the favor.”
Dash shook his head, but he was smiling. “Fine. You win. I’ll accept the ride.”
“You knew I wouldn’t stop insisting until you did, right?”
Dash rolled his eyes. “I did, but I actually like that about you, your command mode. I like knowing that you love being in control, but that in bed, I can make you drop that facade. I can take your ass. I can own you.”
“Holy fuck, are you trying to make me come in my pants? We are in public, you know.” Thorne didn’t really care though. Dash had him completely under his spell.
“I wish I could fuck you again tonight,” Dash said, voice barely a whisper.
So did Thorne, but before he could respond, Dash continued. “Unfortunately, I have to bake early in the morning; but you’ll be thinking about next week when you get home, won’t you?”
“Bastard; you know I will.”
The car Thorne had ordered arrived then. “The car service bills my account,” he told Dash.
Dash nodded. “Next Friday?”
“See you then.” Thorne tried to play it cool even though his cock was throbbing and he knew he wouldn’t work when he got home. He’d jerk off thinking about Dash and wondering what he had planned for next week.