The Escort

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The Escort Page 3

by A. M. Salinger


  Shit.

  Joe loosened his grip on Ethan’s waist. His anger faded as he explored the full lips beneath his, curiously molding them with his own, knowing he was playing with fire yet unable to stop himself.

  Joe probed the soft mouth beneath his with his tongue.

  Ethan shuddered and parted his lips, eyes blinking open for a moment. The hunger in the emerald depths sent a torrid wave of lust surging through Joe. He cradled Ethan’s face and swooped inside the opening, his tongue invading the dark, hot space, caressing, exploring.

  Unheeding of the dozens of stares focused on them and the shocked murmurs spreading across the club, Joe plundered Ethan’s mouth, need a hot spring coiling tightly through him, twisting his belly and hardening his cock.

  Ethan’s tongue met his a heartbeat later.

  The bolt of electricity that flashed through Joe almost made him groan out loud. From the way Ethan twitched and arched against him, Joe knew the bartender was also experiencing the same shocking sensation.

  Joe pressed his thigh between Ethan’s legs, dropped one hand to Ethan’s tight butt cheeks, and deepened the kiss.

  Ethan moaned and shuddered, his body dissolving against Joe’s, his hands dropping from Joe’s face to grip Joe’s shoulders for support, his erection pushing sweetly against Joe’s hard-on.

  A wolf whistle reached Joe dimly through the red haze of pleasure flooding him from where his tongue danced with Ethan’s. He recognized Cam’s laughter and could imagine Gabe groaning in sheer embarrassment at his lover’s crass behavior.

  Had his own hands not been full of the insanely sexy man he was currently kissing, Joe would have shoved a middle finger at his best friend. It was with reluctance that Joe lifted his mouth off Ethan’s a moment later. He didn’t think he’d be able to stop if he carried on for much longer.

  Ethan panted below him, chest rising and falling with his labored breathing, his full lips swollen and red from Joe’s kiss. He blinked up at Joe, his green eyes dark with passion.

  Joe bit back a groan at the erotic picture of an aroused Ethan, his dick throbbing uncomfortably against the zipper of his pants.

  “That was—” Ethan mumbled.

  “Act One,” Joe said, his words coming out harsher than he’d intended.

  Ethan stiffened against him, desire slowly fading from his eyes.

  “Right,” he muttered, his tone bitter.

  * * *

  Ethan finished drying the last glass and placed it on the rack. It was two in the morning and the club was empty, bar Akihito and Kiba. Though it wasn’t his turn to clean up, Ethan had been reluctant to return to his apartment and had stayed back to help. Besides, he was still reeling from his first kiss with Joe. He’d found his fingers rising unconsciously to his mouth several times for the rest of that night, the heated tingle of Joe’s touch still evident on his lips.

  Despite having spent the best part of ten minutes explaining the reason behind Joe’s behavior to a frankly intrigued Akihito and Kiba, the bartender and the doorman continued to watch Ethan with indulgent expressions, as if they knew something he didn’t know.

  This did nothing to calm Ethan’s racing heart and fevered imagination.

  The reason for his current predicament strolled into the bar.

  Joe shrugged his jacket on and paused by the mahogany counter, his hazel gaze locking on Ethan.

  “You about done?”

  Ethan blinked, nonplussed.

  “What?”

  Joe sighed. “I’m asking if you’re ready to go.”

  “Go where?” Ethan said suspiciously.

  Kiba grunted.

  “He’s saying he wants to walk you home, kid.”

  “Thank you, Kiba,” Joe murmured, his eyes mocking as he continued staring at Ethan.

  “Ay-ay-ay, how romantic!” Akihito squealed, hands rising dramatically to his cheeks.

  Ethan narrowed his eyes at the bartender.

  “One of these days, I’m gonna video you acting all camp and send it to your wife.”

  Akihito grinned, unabashed.

  “She loves me, warts and all, sweet cheeks. Nothing you do will ever change that.”

  Ethan sighed, his pulse starting a steady, rising beat as he studied Joe. He knew refusing the club owner would only end in an argument. And there was no denying that the incident in the alley still sent shivers through Ethan’s body.

  “Give me a couple of minutes.”

  Joe was waiting for Ethan outside the staff changing room when he came out.

  Ethan looked over his shoulder toward the silent club.

  “Where are Kiba and Akihito?”

  “They locked up and left. Come, we’ll go out this way.”

  Joe turned and led Ethan through the private door to his apartment. Beyond the small lobby and spiral stairs was another exit opening onto a side alley. They headed north, the sound of traffic from the main Shinjuku strip slowly fading behind them.

  Although Ethan was acutely conscious of Joe beside him as they navigated the roads toward his apartment building, he found the silence between them strangely comforting.

  It wasn’t long before they reached his street.

  Ethan stopped in front of his building and looked at Joe, feeling awkward for the first time since they stepped out of Saron.

  “Well, this is—”

  “I’m paying you too much,” Joe said bluntly. He stared at the pleasant neighborhood around them before studying Ethan’s building with narrowed eyes. “I knew you lived in Bunkyo, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

  Ethan gazed at him, intrigued.

  “What were you expecting?”

  Joe frowned.

  “Some crappy studio flat with shared facilities. This place looks like it’s serviced.”

  Irritation replaced Ethan’s curiosity. He scowled.

  “Sometimes, the shit that comes out of your mouth really pisses me off. And you’re right. It is.”

  Ethan removed his key card from his back pocket, slipped it in the door, and pushed it open.

  Lights came on, illuminating the empty lobby and the rows of letterboxes to the left.

  “Thanks for walking me home,” Ethan said coolly over his shoulder. “I’ll—”

  “I’m coming in,” Joe said behind him.

  Chapter 6

  Ethan blinked rapidly when Joe crowded him against the half-open door.

  “Why?”

  Joe glowered.

  “This asshole nearly chased you in that alley tonight and he’s been sending you notes to this place. I want to check your apartment.”

  Ethan swallowed, his pulse accelerating at Joe’s proximity despite his annoyance at the carefully orchestrated charade they were now engaged in.

  God, he smells good.

  Joe hustled him inside the lobby and inspected the letterboxes as the door swung closed behind them.

  “Which one’s yours?”

  Ethan hesitated. “Three-oh-one.”

  Joe looked at him pointedly. Ethan sighed and handed him the key card.

  Joe opened the letterbox. It was empty. He frowned.

  “What kind of stuff does he normally send his notes in?”

  “White envelopes. About the size of a greeting card.”

  Joe scanned the clean lines of the lobby, suspicion creasing his brow.

  “You sure it’s not your mailman?”

  Ethan narrowed his eyes.

  “My mailman is a fifty-five-year old lady with arthritis.”

  “Oh.” Joe watched him for a silent moment. “Lead the way.”

  * * *

  Joe studied the sweet curves of Ethan’s butt as the bartender climbed the stairs ahead of him.

  The memory of the kiss they’d shared earlier that night still burned through him. Joe had expected that making out with Ethan would be hot, but the reality of it had utterly stunned him. He still regretted the words he’d spoken following the kiss, the ones he’d uttered to make it clear to Ethan th
at this was all just an act to flush out his unwanted admirer. Deep down inside, Joe knew he’d also said those words to remind himself that he needed to keep his distance from Ethan.

  Despite the bartender’s cool behavior for the rest of that evening, Joe had still insisted on walking Ethan home, his concern about the stalker situation unabated.

  Although Joe had enjoyed the companionable silence they’d shared as they strolled to the bartender’s home, he had only intended to make sure Ethan got to his apartment building okay. One look at the place and the exclusive neighborhood it was set in had sent a bolt of intense curiosity through Joe.

  Who the hell is this kid?

  “Joe,” Ethan said quietly as they negotiated a landing.

  “Yeah?”

  “Quit staring at my ass.”

  Joe blinked.

  “What makes you think I’m staring at your ass?”

  “‘Cause I can feel your eyes boring a hole into it.”

  “You mean, besides the other hole?”

  Ethan cursed and mumbled something that sounded like, “Irritating fucker,” above him.

  Joe grinned. He was glad to see Ethan back to his normal self.

  The bartender stopped on the third landing and headed left down the corridor. He paused in front of the door to his apartment and put his hand out.

  “My key card.”

  Joe ignored him, slipped the plastic strip in the lock, and twisted the handle. Lights came on as he entered the apartment ahead of Ethan.

  Joe stopped and stared at the open-plan living area, the dark oak wood floor, and the sleek lines of chic furniture dotting the place. He frowned at Ethan over his shoulder.

  “Care to tell me how you can afford this on the wage I’m paying you?”

  “I came into some inheritance money and invested it wisely,” Ethan said, deadpan. He shrugged his jacket off and barged past Joe.

  Irritation flashed through Joe. He could spot a barefaced lie from a mile away. That Ethan was holding back on telling him the truth again made his gut twist with anger. He marched after Ethan, grabbed his arm, and spun him around.

  “You’re lying to me, Ethan,” Joe said silkily. “And you should know by now, I don’t like liars.”

  Ethan’s gaze dropped to where Joe’s hand was wrapped around his right biceps. The fury in his green eyes when he looked up made Joe blink in surprise.

  “If anyone is lying, it’s you,” Ethan said harshly.

  Joe slowly released his hold on the bartender.

  “And exactly what do you mean by that?”

  “You fucking well know what I’m talking about!”

  Ethan dropped his jacket on a sofa chair and twisted on his heels to face Joe.

  “Why do you still go there? To Le Secret? What kind of hold does that—that woman have on you that you would sell yourself for her when you clearly don’t need the money?”

  Joe stilled.

  “That’s none of your business,” he said coldly.

  “Oh, yeah? Well, it’s none of your business how I can afford this place either!” Ethan spat.

  Joe clenched his jaw as he stared at the gorgeous, irate man before him.

  “I owe Eveline my life.”

  Ethan blinked, shock replacing the anger on his face.

  “What?” he mumbled.

  Joe raked a hand through his hair.

  “I would be long dead by now if Eveline hadn’t rescued me from the hellhole I was living in back in New York.”

  Ethan paled.

  “Is she blackmailing you?”

  “No.” Joe scowled. “That’s all I’m gonna say on the subject, so don’t push me, Ethan.”

  * * *

  Ethan’s heart thundered inside his chest as Joe strode past him, still reeling from the club owner’s unexpected confession.

  Joe checked the apartment and returned to the living area a moment later.

  “Everything looks okay,” he said gruffly.

  Ethan nodded mutely.

  “I’ll come pick you up tomorrow before your shift,” Joe said.

  He dropped Ethan’s key card on the coffee table and headed for the door.

  “You don’t need to do that,” Ethan murmured, walking slowly after him.

  Joe froze with his hand on the door handle. He turned, grabbed Ethan’s arm, and pushed him against the hallway wall.

  Ethan gasped when Joe trapped his wrists above his head with his powerful hands and pressed his tall, hard body against him.

  “What the—”

  Joe swooped and swallowed the rest of Ethan’s words with his lips, his kiss sending electricity surging through Ethan, his hot tongue masterfully invading Ethan’s mouth.

  Ethan moaned and arched, hips flexing against the steely leg wedged between his thighs. Joe pushed back, his erection digging into Ethan’s stomach. He kept Ethan’s wrists trapped with one hand and dropped the other to Ethan’s groin.

  Fire licked Ethan when Joe ran a finger across his throbbing cock.

  “Oh!”

  Ethan felt Joe grin against his lips. Then, his entire world narrowed in on the sound of a zipper opening and the draft of air that washed across his lower abdomen.

  Ethan groaned with pleasure as Joe dipped his hand inside his briefs and palmed his aching cock. He wrenched his mouth from Joe’s kiss and dropped his head back against the wall as the latter started stroking him with delicious, slow movements of his wrist.

  “Oh God.”

  “You like that?” Joe whispered teasingly in his left ear, his breath sending a shiver of need down Ethan’s spine.

  Ethan bit his lower lip.

  “Yes!”

  “Good,” Joe murmured. He dropped hot kisses against Ethan’s neck, his hand working him faster and faster.

  Ethan matched Joe’s rhythm with his own hips, thrusting into the fingers pleasuring him, unable to halt the gasps and moans leaving his throat. The first wave of his climax gathered at the base of his spine and deep inside his belly a moment later.

  “Oh Jesus!” Ethan closed his eyes, his ass clenching tight and his entire body stiffening in anticipation of the intense orgasm.

  Joe’s hand froze on his cock.

  Ethan blinked dazedly and looked up at him. Confusion clouded his pleasure-dazed brain when he registered Joe’s cool expression.

  “This is your punishment for lying to me,” Joe said stonily.

  He let go of him so suddenly, Ethan nearly collapsed to the floor.

  Ethan pressed his back against the wall, knees trembling and cock throbbing. Shock turned to anger when he realized he’d just been masterfully played.

  “You fucking asshole,” Ethan hissed.

  Joe’s gaze dropped to Ethan’s stiff dick.

  “That looks kinda painful. I’d take care of it if I were you.”

  He turned and headed out of the apartment. The door closed loudly in the deafening silence.

  Rage flooded Ethan. He slipped his aching cock inside his pants, opened the door, and glared at Joe’s back as the latter strolled toward the stairs.

  “You fucking asshole!”

  Joe stopped and arched an eyebrow at him over his shoulder.

  “I’ll pick you up at five. Be ready.”

  Chapter 7

  Ethan was still fuming two days later. He scowled across the mahogany counter he was polishing to where Joe was supervising the final camera installation by the security company he’d hired.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Akihito muttered.

  “Nothing,” Ethan growled.

  Akihito’s gaze swung from Ethan to Joe and back again.

  “Are you guys having a lovers’ spat?”

  Fury and shame twisted Ethan’s stomach in equal measure as he thought of that night at his apartment. Despite his anger at what Joe had done to him, Ethan hadn’t been able to stop himself from jerking off to the hot image of that bastard giving him a hand job, his body so inflamed that it had taken three toe-curling orgasms for
his throbbing dick to finally stop hurting.

  “We are not lovers,” Ethan said between gritted teeth. “I wouldn’t let that fucker near me if he were the last man alive.”

  “Oh.”

  “In fact, that douche bag can kiss my ass if he thinks I’m ever gonna let him touch me again.”

  Akihito sucked air between his teeth.

  “Ooh. So, there’s been touching—”

  “I hope his dick rots and falls off.”

  Akihito winced. “Okay, as a man, I think that’s going a bit too far.”

  * * *

  Joe sighed when he caught sight of Ethan’s reflection in the mirror on the wall opposite him.

  The bartender was glaring at him, jaw clenched while he spoke in a low voice to Akihito.

  Joe didn’t have to be a genius to figure out the content of their conversation. Leaving Ethan two nights ago had been one of the hardest things Joe had ever done in his adult life. He had known he was playing with fire when he’d touched Ethan, but the sight of the aroused, moaning young man about to come apart in his arms had struck Joe like a bucket of icy water, drenching his own arousal and freezing his hand on Ethan’s gorgeously flushed cock.

  In that moment, Joe had known there would be no going back if he witnessed Ethan’s orgasm. He would have taken Ethan there and then against that wall, repeatedly thrusting his throbbing dick into Ethan’s tight ass, driving them both wild with pleasure while he swallowed Ethan’s cries and moans with his mouth.

  It would have been the best sex Joe would ever have had—that, he was certain of.

  It would also have been very wrong.

  Joe knew what Ethan wanted. And he couldn’t give it to him.

  “All done, Mr. Cavendish,” said the camera guy. He climbed down the stepladder and picked up the tablet on the table next to them. He tapped out a password and showed the screen to Joe. “This should work even if someone cuts the power. You can set it up on your computer and phone, too.”

  Grim satisfaction coursed through Joe as he observed the feeds from the cameras he’d had placed around the club.

  There’s no way this asshole’s gonna get close to this place without us catching him in the act now.

 

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