by Cara Dee
“We’ll run through it without stopping a few times,” Anthony instructed. “If you miss a cue, just jump in again.”
There was a murmur of acknowledgment, and I exchanged a nod with him before I took the first few notes and eased us into the song.
It was up to Nonna now. She’d hear Anthony sing about feeling trapped, about trying to find a way to settle for second best, about…well, giving up, essentially.
I let my fingers slide over the strings and glanced across the aisle. Anthony had his head bowed when he played—when he sang from his heart. It was a sign. I knew this wasn’t “just some song.” Nonna would see it too.
His voice never failed to capture my attention, and with the choir in the background, it was shivers all around. He sang of having nothing to say, having nowhere to go, and I wanted to say there was; he just needed to get up and dust himself off and try again.
The music quieted down until it was just my guitar, and that was when Anthony raised the tempo and sang louder. It was his thing. Ending one verse with peace, beginning the next with force.
The harmonies from the choir gave me goose bumps, and I looked out over the pews to see the response from the people watching. And my gaze landed on the strange man in the suit who remained standing in the doorway.
Feeling trapped…
Nothing to say…
Nowhere to go…
Anthony wasn’t the only one hiding, the only one settling.
I was an idiot. There was no way it was him.
Right?
Gideon had told me he was six-four or something, hadn’t he? He had a lot of money and could afford all things bespoke. Dark hair, brown eyes. I’d become intimately familiar with his body type. I’d heard the sound his dress shoes made on the hardwood floor in the apartment. But he wasn’t standing in the doorway of a small church in Brooklyn right now. Not after the spiel he’d given me on not sharing personal information with him.
I lowered my gaze and closed my eyes, willing myself to concentrate on the song and nothing else.
We had five or six weeks left before the concert.
My fingers itched to put words to paper.
There was a reason I was so invested in Anthony’s life, even in Gideon’s life, and I was afraid it was to distract myself from my own sorry love life. Or lack thereof.
I couldn’t worry about that right now, though.
As the song drew to a close for the second time, I opened my eyes again.
The man in the doorway had left.
Get back up, get back up again.
I hummed to myself as I prepared my, oh…third ice cream sundae for the day. I went with strawberry this time, along with enough chocolate sauce to cover the ice cream, then a dozen maraschino cherries and a couple chocolate-filled wafers.
Then I went back to my keyboard and sat down. I had another half hour or so to develop the song I was working on before I had to get ready for Gideon’s arrival. I’d been at it all day, unable to get Anthony’s song out of my head. It deserved a response.
You’ll find strength in the fight.
“Hmm.” I stuck the ice-cream-filled spoon into my mouth and jotted down the words in my notebook.
I wanted to believe that the best kind of love was worth burning for. A flicker of a flame wasn’t enough. It had to consume you. I wanted the blood, sweat, and tears kind of love. The unpredictable, the wild, and the hard love.
Hard love.
We were always proud of hard work. We stood taller next to our biggest achievements.
Hold on tight.
The music swept through me, and I played until the perfect melody emerged. I’d continue working on it tomorrow, though I suspected my mind would be preoccupied with it all night. Hey, Gideon wanted me passive and motionless; he was gonna get it. I’d just wander off mentally instead.
Or, I was gonna get through to him somehow. I kept going back and forth. He’d texted me the instructions for tonight, and he wanted me lying naked on my side when he arrived. Sleep mask on until the lights were off, and then he’d remove it. He’d thought of me all day, he’d said, and he wanted to be inside me within a minute of his getting here, so I had to prepare myself too.
He was taking the excitement out of this arrangement mad fast.
I was officially nothing more than a sex doll, and it made it difficult to motivate myself to help him.
That rock made a comeback in the pit of my stomach tonight, and now I knew it had nothing to do with my job as a sex worker. It wasn’t about sex, it wasn’t about selling it, it wasn’t about feeling “dirty.” It was because of clients like Gideon. Every now and then, someone had rented my services to treat me like an object, and that did it. That was the reason.
Gideon hadn’t been lying. He’d been inside me within a minute of his arrival, and he’d been different. He hadn’t spoken a word until he’d gotten off about two minutes ago. And then, he’d only said, “I’ll be right back.”
He’d disappeared, only to return with a wet washcloth to clean me off.
I was so done with this. Now I remembered why I’d quit in the first place.
Seven weeks to go.
Seven weeks of evidently not feeling like a human being whenever my client popped in for a quiet fuck.
At least Tina had gotten me a sweet deal with the payment renegotiation. Now I’d be walking away with four grand a week, minus her ten percent. First payment was due tomorrow, which Tina had held for me. The client paid in advance; the sex worker got paid afterward.
“You didn’t get hard during…” Gideon’s voice filled the dark apartment, and it faded just as quickly.
I had nothing to say. He hadn’t asked a direct question.
I scrubbed my hands over my face and yawned, hoping he’d either leave or wanna get some sleep, because I was a few minutes away from losing the last fuck about the rules. And if I opened my mouth now, he’d get an unfiltered piece of my mind.
The mattress dipped with his weight as he sat down on the edge next to me. “I’m frustrated. I know the rules I’ve imposed, but now I feel alone in this companionship.”
“Because you are.” Welp, those words left me of their own volition. But now I might as well continue. “You asked for a plaything who didn’t move or speak and you got one.”
I heard him swallow and take a couple breaths.
“Have…Have I hurt you?” he asked hesitantly.
Yes, I wanted to say, but it wouldn’t be right. He hadn’t done anything wrong whatsoever. I just wasn’t as perfectly suited for this work as I’d once thought I was, and now I was out of the game. Two years had passed since this had been a regular thing. My guard was down. I’d been naïve to think I could jump in without any preparations.
“I’ve hurt myself a little,” I settled for saying. “I thought I could go through with an arrangement—as a one-time thing—like I used to. This was once my full-time job, but I quit two years ago.”
“Yes, Tina explained she was pulling someone out of retirement who matched my criteria.”
That was one way of putting it.
Gideon cleared his throat. “Are you saying you can’t go through with it? I’m not good at reading between the lines.”
I blew out a breath and sat up. We were doing this. We were gonna talk. “No, I can.” Because fuck all other options. I was not going back to fucking Applebee’s. “What I can’t do is play along with your stupid rules. It’s not genuine, Gideon. You wanna explore for real? Let me see you. Let me participate. Don’t put a freaking gag order on me.”
I was met by silence, and it wasn’t like I could see him. It was so frustrating.
“It wouldn’t kill you to have a simple conversation with me,” I went on. “We can do it on your terms—we can text each other for all I care if you don’t wanna talk verbally. Whatever you’re the most comfortable with, but this…?” I gestured between us, even though he couldn’t see it. “This is about as real as you exploring with a blow-up doll
.”
The silence stretched on, but I could sense him processing what I’d said. It sounded like he scrubbed at his face, and he breathed easier. There was surrender in his sigh. He had to realize what we’d done so far wasn’t working. Not for two months. It wasn’t what he wanted, and it sure as hell wasn’t what I wanted.
“It’s…difficult…maneuvering, for lack of a better word, this arrangement,” he said slowly, seemingly struggling to phrase himself. “Normal people can multitask and try on various hobbies different days of the week, but I go all in. I almost obsess over something until I’ve figured it out, and I can’t do that with you. I’ve made promises. I have commitments. This is supposed to be purely physical, and…and that’s why I don’t want to see notes on the fridge about where you’re going on Friday. I don’t want to know that you play the keyboard and the guitar and God knows what else, because I get intrigued.”
I pinched my lips together and cocked my head.
My guitar case had been under the bed the entire time I’d stayed in this apartment.
Fucking hell, I had to see him. I was done with this. I understood his worries; I genuinely did, and I’d heard similar stories from some of Anthony’s students. About the obsessing, about multitasking. But he was paying me to give him a full experience of exploring his sexuality, and I was itching to break the number one rule. The client being in charge.
I could hear Anthony’s warning about not getting involved as I reached for the lamp on the nightstand.
Please don’t panic, please don’t panic.
I shouldn’t do this. Before I pressed the switch, I knew it was wrong. It should be his choice.
I still flipped it, and the apartment flooded with a dim light.
I knew it.
Gideon sucked in a breath and looked away, but he remained sitting there. He didn’t leave. He balled his hands into fists, and his breathing sped up. No panic, though. Anxiety was part of life; doing something scary wasn’t necessarily bad, so that wasn’t going to stop me.
He was a stunning man of lean muscle, broad shoulders, and some silver at his temples. Nothing about him was small. My ass could testify… But it was time to see the rest of him.
“Sometimes you have to put yourself first,” I murmured. Moving slowly, I got up on my knees and shifted behind him. I brushed my hands up his arms and over his shoulders, and he shuddered. “I won’t push further without asking for permission, okay?” I didn’t even sneak a glance at the window, where I knew I’d be able to see his reflection. “Can I touch you like this? And kiss you here?” I nuzzled his neck.
He smelled so fucking good.
“I suppose,” he replied tightly. “This is highly unnerving.”
“Unnerving is okay.” I grazed my lips along his shoulder and peered down his front. Sexy chest, sexy chest hair, sexy thighs, sexy cock. “You’re outside of your comfort zone. That shit’s terrifying at times, but it ain’t bad. It makes us stronger.”
Funny how quickly the rock in my stomach crumbled into dust.
“I wanna ride that cock later.”
He swallowed. “Oh. Okay.”
I smiled against his skin and dropped an openmouthed kiss as I draped one arm over his shoulder to touch his chest.
“I, uh, I have fantasies about that,” he said.
“I remember.” Now I couldn’t stop touching him. My hands roamed his torso greedily, and it felt so damn good to be unshackled. “You’re a sexy man, Gideon. Out of this world sexy.”
“Thank you. So are you.”
I grinned. That sounded like one of those well-rehearsed, automatic responses he had in his arsenal. I’d heard a couple of them before.
“How are you feeling now?” I murmured.
He shivered. “Aroused and anxious.”
I could work with that.
“Can I get on your lap?” I wondered. “You can close your eyes if you want.”
He tensed up, and I was the jackass who focused on the definition of his muscles, but then he nodded jerkily, so hopefully his anxiety was manageable.
I made sure to touch him when I moved around him to get on his lap, just so he always knew exactly where I was. His eyes were closed, but I knew that handsome face. I’d seen it from afar last night.
Whereas I hadn’t shaved in a few days and had some scruff going on, he was clean-shaven and rocked a sexy, cut jaw. There was something about sharp lines that drove me bonkers.
He drew a breath through his nose and clenched his jaw, and it looked like he was struggling to relax. In an attempt to help him, I guided his hands up my thighs. I wanted him to feel me the way I did him, now that we were finally in this together.
“I love seeing you.” I cupped his jaw and leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“You do?” He let out a shaky breath and tightened his grip on my hips.
“Fuck yeah. Who doesn’t love seeing a gorgeous man?” I pressed my forehead to his and scooted a little closer, wanting his cock where it should be. “I think it’s safe for you to open your eyes.”
He shook his head minutely. “I don’t want to see any judgment.”
I furrowed my brow and inched back. “Why the fuck would I judge you?”
“I don’t know. Society as a whole is judgmental. No one wants to be common, but everyone wants to be normal. We judge what sticks out and what we don’t understand.”
He wasn’t wrong, and I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to try to fit into a bunch of boxes that weren’t made for me on a daily basis. I’d gotten a taste of it when I came out to a few friends in school who hadn’t already figured out I was gay, but that was about it. With my brother paving the way, I’d grown up in an accepting community, even with the church and old-school family members.
“I’m sure I’ve judged someone wrongly in my life,” I admitted, smoothing my fingers over his brow. He appeared so troubled, and I didn’t like it. “It’s easy to think you get something just by imagining it. But you don’t have anything to worry about with me, Gideon. I admire a person who will be true to himself and go after what he wants. That’s what you’re trying to do here, isn’t it?”
He grimaced a little. “It’s a compromise at best.”
I hoped to hear more about it, because I was curious, but it would have to wait. Gideon was opening his eyes, and it felt like I’d been sucker-punched. He had the most soulful peepers I’d seen. Rich brown with gold and green flecks at the center, brimming with vulnerability and desire.
I smiled. “You were in Brooklyn last night.”
He quickly broke eye contact and dropped his gaze to my shoulder, and fuck me if he didn’t get a reddish tone to his cheeks. A grown man blushing—I’d seen everything now. And it was hella endearing.
“I told you I get intrigued,” he replied defensively.
“Hey, I’m not complaining.” I grinned and kissed the corner of his mouth. I wanted more; I wanted to kiss him properly. “Did you like what you saw?”
“No,” he answered quietly. “It didn’t satisfy my curiosity.”
Nothing wrong with that in my book. I licked my lips, lingering close to his, and was done talking for the moment. Maybe he did too, because he took a trembling breath and closed the distance.
It sent a bolt of lust through me, and I locked my arms around his neck. We kept it tentative at first, letting the electricity flow between us with each soft brush, but when he applied some pressure, I let my body take the wheel and threw myself into the kiss.
Gideon was absurdly good at kissing. He didn’t go too deep or too fast. I kissed him back hungrily, turned on by his sensuality, and quickly became hooked on the feel of his tongue along mine.
“Why do you taste of vanilla?” he asked, out of breath.
“I’ve had a shit-ton of ice cream today.”
“Oh.”
I smiled and snaked the tip of my tongue around his, at the same time as I wiggled my ass over his hardening cock. It was enough to derail his thoughts,
and he reached for the lube on the nightstand.
I wouldn’t need a lot of it. There was still some slickness from the last round.
This would be better, though. It already was.
“Hngh.” I bit down on my lip as he stroked two wet fingers over my ass. My skin was sensitive. “Fuck, that feels good.”
He hummed and sank his teeth into my shoulder as he pushed both fingers inside, and I couldn’t stop the moan. Experienced or not, he was ferocious and intense in the sack, and it was exactly the kind of sex I craved. It was real and instinctive.
Once I was ready, I lifted up while he gripped his cock, and then I slowly sat down on him. The burn felt different this time. It wasn’t as sharp, and it wasn’t tinged with cold detachment.
Gideon didn’t groan expletives to express how good something felt. I noticed it in his touches and in his breathing pattern instead. He held me almost painfully tightly to him and buried his face against my neck.
“It’s better when it’s real, isn’t it?” I combed my fingers through his hair and kissed his shoulder.
He nodded. “Amazing.”
I tugged at his hair, pulling him back a bit, and captured his mouth with mine.
Now the actual exploring could begin.
Chapter 5
“I should get going,” Gideon muttered drowsily.
“Mmm…” I stretched out next to him and threw a sleepy glance at the alarm clock. “It’s only four. I thought we had till dawn.”
He hummed and dipped down to kiss my chest. “Early meeting.”
Late meetings, too, considering he’d arrived past midnight last night.
Three weeks of my arrangement with Gideon had turned me into a sex addict. Or a Gideon addict. He was still careful not to share anything about his personal life, so I hadn’t shared anything either, though I could tell he had questions. Because now that we no longer disappeared in the darkness—mask gone, curtains open, lights on—I caught him scanning the apartment at times. He’d seen the sheet music I’d worked on at the table, the drafts I’d thrown on the floor, the constant presence of ice cream fixings on the kitchen counter, and the books on autism I’d borrowed from the library. But he never asked.