Cole, page 11
“Did he take you up on it?”
Smiling, I nodded. “The next time was way better. He even messaged my boss to tell her, which helped a lot. The second booking that went bad…” I sobered, my spine prickling at the memory. “He was just really adamant about ignoring my boundaries and wanting me to do things we hadn’t agreed to. He wanted to top me, but insisted that instead of doing some prep, I could just do a popper.” I shook my head. “Fuck no. First of all, I don’t do poppers. Second, client or not, if I’m going to bottom for someone, he’d better be willing to do the work to make sure I can take him. The fact that he wanted to skip that and push a chemical on me instead? Not happening.”
Parker’s brow furrowed. “Wait, what’s a popper?”
“Amyl nitrate. It comes in a little cannister, and you sniff it. Makes your whole body relax. A lot of guys use them so they can bottom more easily.”
The furrows deepened. “Do they work?”
“They do, but I hate them. Tried them twice and wound up with monster headaches both times. Doesn’t happen to everyone—one of my exes uses them all the time, no problem—but it definitely does to me.”
Parker grimaced. “Ugh. No, thanks. So what happened with that client, then?”
“I left.” I shrugged. “He wasn’t happy about it, but when he complained to my boss, she asked me what happened. After I told her, he earned himself a permanent ban from Emerald City.”
“Oh good.”
“Right? So I know the company has my back if something goes south. When I was modeling, I was basically on my own and at the mercy of people who had a lot more power than I did.”
“Yikes.” Parker squirmed with obvious discomfort. “I never thought modeling would be creepier or more dangerous than…”
“Than prostitution?”
He blushed.
“It’s okay.” I smiled. “I know that’s not what they call us at the company, but it’s what I am. I’m not ashamed of it or offended by it. And I mean, this job can get dangerous, but I’ve been pretty lucky. The background checks that Emerald City does—those help a lot.”
“Do they actually catch people who, uh… Who you wouldn’t want to work for?”
“Don’t know.” I half-shrugged. “I never see who gets rejected, but I’ve heard that there are certain red flags that get a guy booted. And if there’s something questionable, like a minor drug charge or they did time for something non-violent, the boss will ask us if we’re comfortable proceeding.”
“Does that happen a lot?” He paused. “God, I’m throwing all these questions at you. I’m—”
“It’s okay,” I said with a soft laugh. “You can ask anything you want. And yes, I’ve had it come up a handful of times. Not crazy often, but once in a while. I know a guy who worked for another escort company who had a lot of problem clients, and same with someone who did it on his own, so I assume that means our boss is either weeding out the assholes before they get to us, or they don’t bother trying to get approved.”
“Either way, you don’t have to deal with them.” Parker shifted again, a subtle wince flickering across his face. “And, um, as long as I’m hitting you with a million questions…” He watched me shyly. “Poppers—do you think they might help me when I try to bottom? Because I really do want to.”
I thought about it, then shook my head. “They might help, but the side effects suck. I know a lot of guys swear by them, and they do help, but they’re not my thing at all.”
“The headaches?”
“That, and like, they fuck with your blood pressure, so…”
Parker grimaced. “Oh. Okay, maybe not.” He sounded disappointed.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said softly. “We’ll get there. We’ll work up to it enough that you can at least try it and decide if you like it. I’m not exactly packing anything dangerous, so as long as we take it slow and use a gallon of lube, I don’t think you’ll need the chemicals.”
“I do want to try it, though. Just, um… Just not with the drugs.” He paused. “Hell, they might even be on the banned substance list for the League. I’d just as soon not take the chance. But if there’s a way to do it without the chemicals…”
“Sure.” I smiled. “We can try any time you’re comfortable. And yes, we can absolutely do it without any chemical assistance. I mean, besides lube. Kind of need that.”
Parker laughed. “Yeah, let’s not forget the lube.”
“If there’s one thing you’ll never have to worry about with me, it’s having plenty of lube on hand. Trust me.”
We both chuckled.
My arm was getting tired, so I turned onto my side, moving my phone to my other hand and sliding the other under my pillow. “So as long as we’re talking origin stories—what made you become a hockey player?”
“Same thing that made you become an escort—money.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Really? But you didn’t start getting paid until you went pro, right? You had to have started a lot younger?”
“Oh, I did.” It was his turn to shift around a bit and change position, which didn’t look comfortable from the way his lips tightened as he moved. Once he’d settled, he continued, “The thing is, my parents sat me and my brothers down when we were kids and said we had three choices—we could go to college via student loans, we could join the military, or we could find something to get us through college without loans. So, scholarships, basically.”
“Vocational schools weren’t an option?”
Parker laughed bitterly. “Yeah, right. My parents firmly believe that you’re either college-educated, military, or a loser. There are no other options.”
I rolled my eyes. “Nice.”
“Right? So it was college or bust because like hell was I joining the military.”
“Yeah, I think that would’ve been me too.”
He sighed, shifting position again. A hint of a wince flickered across his features, probably from aggravating his sore back, but he settled again and went on. “Anyway, my brothers and I, we all did music in elementary school because my parents thought it was a good way to get scholarships. Jesse and I both dropped it by sixth grade, and Trey stuck with it through high school. They kept pushing us to try different extracurriculars, and…” He gestured dismissively. “Anyway, I didn’t want to end up in debt, I really wanted to play hockey, and there was no way in hell I was joining the military. I figured hockey would get me through college, and then it ended up getting me noticed by some scouts for the League, and… here I am.”
“But you like it, right?”
“Oh yeah.” He nodded. “I love playing hockey. I got really lucky that the thing I went into for money also turned out to be the thing I love.”
“Good.” I smiled. “Seems like if you didn’t like it, it would be miserable as hell. All the travel, the injuries…”
“Yep. I went to college with a guy who was also there on a hockey scholarship, and he really didn’t enjoy it. Plus by the time he got to college, he was burned out.” Parker shook his head. “The first thing he did after he graduated was literally set all his hockey gear on fire.”
“Whoa. Yeah, that is… not someone who should be doing it professionally.”
“Definitely not. And his attitude really made me stop and ask myself if this was what I wanted to do past college. He was two years ahead of me, and I was like, is that going to be me? So I made sure I still busted my ass on my degree, and I looked into other careers just in case.”
“What would you have done if you hadn’t pursued hockey?”
“I think I would’ve gone to law school.” He said it like he didn’t even need to think about it.
“Oh really?”
Parker nodded, chuckling self-consciously. “I know a lot of people think I’m just a dumb jock, but—”
“No, no, it’s not that.” I shook my head. “You just don’t have the same personality as a lot of people I know who’ve gone into law school. You know, the ones who like the idea of arguing for a living.”
He laughed with some more feeling this time. “Yeah, that’s not really me, but I was always good at getting down to the little details of interpreting law. Plus we did mock trials for one of my classes, and I had a blast.”
“Ooh, I did some of those. I loved them!”
He sat up a bit. “Yeah? Did you prefer prosecution or defense?”
“Prosecution, totally.” I grinned. “I mean, defense was fun because you’re just like poking holes in everything the prosecution says, but prosecution actually has to do the digging and prove guilt. I don’t know why, but that’s fun as hell. What about you?”
“Defense,” he said with a laugh. “Because it was always awesome when the prosecution got up there like ‘here’s all the reasons this motherfucker’s guilty,’ and I got to say ‘not so fast, asswipe.’”
I snorted. “Oh yeah? Do tell.”
“Okay, so one was a triple homicide that everyone thought was cut-and-dry…”
We went on for a long time, laughing and sharing stories about mock trials, which led to a few stories from my time on the high school debate team and his one and only attempt to get involved with student council (an attempt derailed by “the asshole principal who thought a student bound for Princeton was more suited for the job than a puck-chaser”). Before I knew it, a sound off-camera caused Parker to stop mid-sentence, and he turned his head.
“Oh hey. Back already?”
“Already?” That was definitely Ethan’s voice. “It’s almost eleven.”
“Is it? Holy shit.” Parker glanced at something else. Probably the clock beside the bed. To me, he said, “It’s later than I thought. I should probably let you go.”
“I should let you go,” I said. “Rest that back, okay?”
“I will. And, um…” That shy smile. Oh my God. “We should do this again. It was fun.”
“Any time.”
After we’d ended the call, I put my phone on my chest and gazed up at the ceiling. I’d been anticipating a sexy virtual session, but I was oddly not disappointed with the way things had gone. I was still horny, and I could take care of that before I went to sleep, but the way our call had gone was…
It was nice.
We should do this again? Hell, yes, we should
It turned out he wasn’t kidding about that, either—that night was far from the last evening we spent FaceTiming and just chatting. In fact, after a few sessions, we fell into this routine, and the idea of fooling around virtually kind of fell by the wayside. I was still down for it if he was, but he seemed to enjoy just talking. Maybe the road was lonelier than either of us had realized, even when he was surrounded by teammates and the various staff who accompanied the team from city to city.
And though being paid for company and conversation wasn’t unusual, this didn’t feel the same. We’d negotiated a price for the sexy chats, but sometimes we just… talked. I didn’t charge for that. Maybe I should have. I don’t know. All I knew was that every time we talked without getting hot and heavy, it was more like having a conversation with Bryce or Luca—a friend, not a client.
That was probably dangerous territory. Too much risk of getting too close. Wasn’t that how Ethan and Luca had blurred the lines and wound up together? Chatting and hanging out and being friends until they suddenly realized they’d fallen for reach other? And I mean, they were blissfully happy, but this was different. Parker was lonely on the road, and when he was home, he was trying to find his footing in the bedroom. He was new to—and still intimidated by—sex, so a relationship was… I mean, that was just not going to happen.
But we kept on FaceTiming. And texting. And talking in between rolls in the hay. I probably should have been tapping the brakes and suggesting we remember what we were doing.
But I wasn’t.
I didn’t want to slow down or stop.
Because God help me, I liked it.
Chapter 13
Parker
Cole was on his way over.
I’d flown in this morning after five days on the road, slept an hour or so this afternoon, and was raring to go for tonight. Especially with last night’s video chat echoing in my head, I couldn’t wait.
“If you’re sure you’re ready to try it again,” Cole had said, “then yeah, I’m down.”
“Yeah, I’m ready.” I’d nodded. “I’ve been, uh… By myself… Whenever I’ve got some time alone, I mean.”
“Oh, good. It still might be slow-going when there’s someone else involved, but I’ve got all the time in the world for it.”
Right now, sitting on my couch and staring blankly at a hockey game I wasn’t watching, I squirmed and, yeah, I had to adjust myself. I was nervous as all hell and worried this would end the way it had the first time I’d tried bottoming, but damn it, I was bound and determined to do this. If it turned out I didn’t like it, then I’d be disappointed, but I wasn’t going to give up after one attempt. Especially not after I’d started to enjoy when I’d been fingering myself. The more I’d done it over the last several weeks, the less weird it had been, and hopefully that meant the real thing would be fun too.
Either way, I couldn’t wait to see Cole. Keeping in contact via FaceTime and texts was great, but it made me itch to get back so I could touch him again.
Now I was back. Cole was on his way over. Any minute now, he’d be here, and we could—
The doorbell had me off the couch and sprinting for the door in an instant.
“Well, hello,” he said with a dirty, promising grin when I answered. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“I know, right?” I wrapped an arm around his waist as he came in, then reeled him in close as I nudged the door shut with my foot. Before the door had even clicked, his lips were on mine, his arms draped over my shoulders, and I had to push him up against the wall just to keep us upright. From the way he moaned when his back hit the wall, he didn’t mind.
“Been thinking about this all day,” I panted between kisses. “I want you to—” I kissed him before I could finish the thought, and he didn’t seem to mind that either. I was pretty sure he got the message.
Slowly and clumsily, we headed for my bedroom. Fortunately, there wasn’t much in the hallway. No furniture or anything we could trip over, and I’d never gotten around to hanging anything on the walls. It was a straight shot with no obstacles, which meant I could focus on kissing him, undressing him, touching him—just… him.
His hands stayed plenty busy, too—when they weren’t running through my shower-damp hair, they were tugging at clothes and fumbling with my zipper. If his enthusiasm was just for show since he was getting paid, then he was a damn good actor.
Finally, we made it into my bedroom, out of the last of our clothes, and—
Ahh, this was what I’d been craving: Cole’s naked body pressed to mine under the covers, our hard cocks rubbing together as we ran our hands all over each other’s skin. Did other guys like kissing as much as Cole did? I hoped so, because I was getting seriously spoiled with him. Every time we landed in bed together, we made out until I was genuinely surprised I still had feeling in my lips, and I loved it.
After God only knew how long, Cole lifted himself up and gazed down at me. “So, what we talked about earlier—you still game?”
I was nodding before he finished asking. “Definitely. I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”
His grin made my toes curl. “Well, then…” He leaned down and kissed me again.
Oh yes. Yes, please. Please, let’s do this.
“It’s just like before,” he murmured against my lips. “There’s no point of no return. We can stop. We can slow down. Anything you need.”
I nodded. I didn’t want to stop or slow down. I wanted it all. After last time, though, I took the reassurance.
Cole drew back. “I want to try something a little different this time. Since it might make it easier for you and you might like it better.” He gestured toward the headboard. “Turn on your hands and knees.”
I was following his lead, so I did as I was told, and—
Oh, hello.
I’d never quite understood why guys enjoyed being rimmed, but oh, fuck, I understood it now. The things Cole did with his tongue… I couldn’t even describe them. Circling. Licking. Probing gently. All I knew was he blew my mind and made my whole body respond like he might just make me come.
I grabbed the headboard to brace myself. He teased and licked, and somewhere in my mind I remembered that I’d expected this to be weird or like I’d feel awkward, but all I felt was oh my God, don’t stop.
And unlike when he or I had fingered me, going soft was not an issue. I was rock hard. Painfully hard. Fuck, my cock needed some attention, so I took my hand off the headboard and started stroking myself.
“Oh, my God,” I moaned, because the twin sensations of my hand and Cole’s tongue were unbelievable. The longer this went on, the better it was, and holy hell, I didn’t even care what we did beyond this. The way he was teasing me with his mouth was… fuck. Forget bottoming—much more of this, and I’d be coming all over the place.
Cole stopped, though, and he slid a gentle hand over my hip. “Lie down on your stomach.”
I did as I was told. When I glanced over my shoulder, Cole was putting some lube on his fingers.
Oh Lord. Here we go.
Except my fingers had been good. There was no reason his wouldn’t be. Especially not after everything he’d just done to my ass. In fact, nerves be damned, I wanted him to hurry up and put something in me. Fingers, his cock, a toy—whatever. Just fuck me with something already.
He didn’t keep me waiting long. The gently exploratory fingertips made me tense up, but I relaxed pretty quickly. As he carefully pushed one in, I had a flash of fear that this was going to go south like it had the first time, but the uncomfortably invasive feeling didn’t last. In fact, it started to feel good. When he added the second finger, even better. A few strokes in, I was arching and squirming and wishing he’d add a third. He kept teasing and stroking, and I didn’t even care that I’d gone soft—no matter what my cock was doing, I was turned on as all hell.
