The Billionaire and the Escort

by Evelyn Mahony

  “I was also thinking that maybe tomorrow we could go for a drive down to Islamorada.” James’ words caught as Josh came up behind him, letting his hands roam over his hips. The belt would have to go, he decided, as he slipped his hands to the buckle. “Josh,” James chuckled, though he made no attempt to stop him, “what are you doing?”

  “I’m about to show you my gratitude,” Josh explained as he pulled the end of the belt through the buckle and began his work on the snap and zipper of the slacks James wore. He kissed along the back of James’ neck—slow, lingering kisses. He was in no rush and hoped they had at least thirty minutes.

  “Oh, you are?” James’ words broke with a moan as Josh slid a very confident, very skilled hand into the briefs James wore and cupped his significant length. He squeezed and kneaded lazily, dragging his lips across James’ skin up to his ear.

  “Mmm-hmm,” he hummed. “It’s been a few weeks and I think I’m ready to get my mouth and hands on you again.” He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little vulnerable in light of all that had happened, but he knew now how James felt. It was very clear, all gifts aside. They had grown so much closer. Josh even found himself on the edge of saying those three little words much quicker than he’d anticipated. He’d thought he could keep that under wraps for a little while longer—and he was determined to try. But it was becoming more difficult.

  “Josh, you don’t have to—” Josh pulled James around so they were eye to eye, ignoring his groan at the loss of contact. He put a finger to James’ lips to shush him

  “Shh-h. I want to. Please. Let me, Daddy?” Josh was pleading and he knew James wouldn’t be able to resist that—and he was right.

  James’ eyes all but rolled back in his head and his mouth fell open. “Yes, go on, baby. Have whatever you want,” he encouraged Josh. James pushed the suitcase out of the way and sat down on the bed, running his hands through Josh’s hair. He’d have to fix it later, but they both knew James would use it to ground himself when Josh swallowed around him.

  “I knew you wanted it,” Josh mused as he tugged at the fabric and got the slacks and briefs down and off James’ legs. He tossed the fabric aside and wasted no time in nuzzling against the base of James’ now-swollen cock, inhaling him and reacquainting himself with his now-boyfriend. He kissed along the curve of the length and watched James, who watched him in return. Their gaze felt charged, erotic, and Josh felt a whole new urge within him. This was the first time he’d touched James without money between them. This was out of pure and true want and affection. His stomach twisted and emotions threatened to bubble to the surface. He pushed them down and let himself focus on what he knew—pleasing James. He’d been fantasizing about it for weeks and now he could finally do it…the right way.

  James’ sharp moans were as quiet as they could possibly be, but he wasn’t very good at being silent. Josh chuckled a little and mumbled a few times, ”You’ve got to be quiet,” as he stroked James slowly. The man was doing his best, Josh knew. The door was locked, so even if a stray moan made its way out, no one could interrupt them.

  The first lick sent a shudder through them both. Josh undid his own belt as he toyed with James. Self-pleasure was no longer something he had to ask for. The thought was thrilling. He pulled himself out and James whispered, “fuck yes,” as he wrapped his right hand around himself. Blessed with the ability to use his left hand well, he slipped it under James’ balls and rubbed the soft skin there, a secret spot he knew James loved. The man’s groan was strained, and Josh rewarded him by slipping his mouth over his cock and down to the base, snuggling the tip deep within his throat. He relaxed into it, groaning around the taste and winning a sharp tug at his hair. He swallowed around him a few times before sliding back just slightly to find a slow, easy rhythm. Every few shallow thrusts, he’d deep-throat James. It was exciting, knowing that James was falling apart at his hands, because he knew how to please him—and knowing there was an emotional bond between them now. This orgasm he was about to give them both would be the first of many with this attachment and sentiment between them. The thought only made him work harder, stroking himself tighter, quicker, and using his mouth harder and faster on James.

  James’ orgasm surprised him. It was sudden, without a warning. He all but curled around Josh as he came, gasping for air down Josh’s throat. The shock of it, the sudden climax and the way James shook silently against him sent Josh over the edge as well, spilling on his hand and the hardwood floor. His own moans were muffled by James’ softening cock as he drank him for all he was worth. When he finally pulled off, he had to rest his head against James’ thigh to catch his breath, his messy hand falling away from his own now-oversensitive length.

  “This is not the right moment for this,” James began quietly, encouraging Josh to look up at him, caressing his cheekbone. “But I can’t keep it in any longer.” His eyes were so tender that Josh wondered if he was about to cry. His heart stilled in his chest. “I love you.” Though the words were hardly audible, only meant for Josh’s ears, it was as though he’d shouted them from the rooftop. Josh’s heart erupted into frantic beats.

  “I love you too,” he whispered back. James had skirted around a confession of this sort on the street that night but hearing the three words merged together like this… Josh’s throat tightened. “I have for…a long time.”

  “Me too.” James smiled tenderly and closed the distance between their lips. The kiss was closed-lip and intimate. Josh hardly realized he was crying until James was wiping his tears. Nothing about their relationship was conventional, so why should their moment of truth be, Josh realized. He was certain that they both meant it—and that was what mattered.

  The kiss dissolved into giggles when Josh raised his sticky hand to embrace James and quickly realized that it wasn’t the best move. Foreheads together, they laughed through the moment and the joy, holding this just for themselves. Josh felt in love. He’d never felt anything like it. This was real. They were real. There was no one else for him but this man right here. James was his forever.

  * * * *

  “Mr. Roberts, I mean Josh, Mr. Barnwell is on line two for you.”

  Tommy Harrison, Josh’s new personal assistant, squeaked from the doorway to Josh’s brand-new New York office. Maria had hired him to help Josh focus on his art while Tommy helped make travel arrangements and ran errands, as well as anything Josh needed. It had been a bumpy four-week acclimation, but now they were on the same page and Josh had learned to delegate…mostly. He still felt a little silly, doing what he loved and getting paid for it as well as having a personal assistant. He was trying to settle in to the busy schedule.

  Which was why James was probably calling. They’d spent the rest of the Christmas holiday with his parents until after New Year’s, when they’d returned to the city. They had been apart since mid-January, set to meet up the first week of March in France. Josh had never seen Paris, and of course James had a hotel there. They’d missed Valentine’s Day, thanks to an unforeseen issue with permits on James’ most recent project in New Zealand. But Josh knew that came with the territory. And James had instead sent him, Sarah, Andrew and Nadia to where he had made their reservations. They’d had a lovely evening, but Josh had missed James like hell.

  They texted all day and talked at night. Time differences didn’t matter. They made an effort to talk as much as they could. Josh still lived with his friends, so talking in the middle of the night wasn’t their favorite thing, but he did it anyway. He’d rather get hollered at by a tired Nat and live off Starbucks than not hear James’ voice. He was in love—and he could talk about it. It was a dream.

  “Thanks, Tommy.” He grinned at the young man, pleased at the news and at the fact that Tommy was learning to talk to him without using his last name. It made him feel old.

  Once his office door was shut, he set his pencil down and picked up his phone, clicking the flashing line. “Hello, Mr. Barnwell,” he greeted with a grin, leaning back in
his comfortable chair.

  “Will you please tell him to stop calling me that?” James whined at the other end. Josh laughed.

  “Listen… I just got him to call me Josh yesterday. One thing at a time. He’s learning,” Josh defended him. “How’s New Zealand?”

  “Hot. Sunny. Beautiful. But I’m ready to come home.” Josh heard waves in the background and could imagine James standing barefoot on the beach in his expensive suit.

  “Sounds like torture,” he teased. “It’s snowing here and cold as the arctic. You’re not missing anything.”

  “Except you,” James easily replied. Josh flushed despite the distance.

  “I miss you too. A lot. My bed is cold. My toes are cold.”

  “Your toes are always fucking cold”—James laughed—“then my calves are always cold when you try to use them to warm up your icicle toes.”

  Josh barked a laugh. “I bet your calves are roasting out there in their summer without my icy toes.”

  They shared laughter for a moment before they settled into easy chat, catching up. James asked about the office and Sarah like a good boyfriend, and Josh asked about the crisis James had diverted and told him his latest projects. He whined a little about his office situation. He hadn’t found the right easel yet, and the one from his apartment had broken the previous week. James called him finicky, but it was affectionately true. Josh couldn’t deny it.

  “Tommy has your flight scheduled, right? Paris is calling us. I need a few days off, especially with you.”

  “He has,” Josh confirmed. “I arrive at two o’clock in the afternoon. My ride is set up to take me to the hotel. All is good, Jamie, unless I get snowed in. Which, as of now, that week is freezing but clear.” The weather was still pulled up on his computer so he consulted it again. Sunny but in the twenties all week. Josh shivered.

  “You’d better not get snowed in. There are wine and pastries calling our names.”

  “Is that all?”

  “I mean, I can think of a few other things…”

  They hadn’t had real sex yet, not since their original arrangement. They’d messed around, touches, some oral and other sexier things, but Josh had been holding out. James never pushed either. He was a true gentleman. But Josh was feeling like maybe he was ready, maybe they’d taken enough time. Nearly three months was good, right? He’d asked Nadia and she’d asked when he’d last gone three months without sex. He couldn’t remember. He took that as a good sign as well. He’d turned over a heck of a lot of new leaves lately. It felt good. Really good. Amazing, even.

  But maybe it was time. He’d been missing it. James had to be too. He’d travel prepared and see how it went. He wanted organic.

  He shook his head. He was such a fucking romantic.

  “Oh shit.” James interrupted in a less-than-pleased tone, “This new general manager is gonna make me entirely gray before I even get to Paris. I’ve gotta get going,” he grumbled.

  “Our kids will make fun of you if you’re gray before they’re even toddlers.” Josh laughed before realizing what he’d said. Wow, that fantasy thought sure wasn’t supposed to make its way into the world like that.

  James recovered quickly, to Josh’s surprise, “Kids, huh?” He sounded amused. “You got something you wanna tell me?” he teased. Josh flushed hard.

  “We both know that ain’t physically possible, Barnwell. And even if it was, it takes sex to make a kid, and we haven’t done that either, though I haven’t stopped thinking about it.” He said the last part quietly and spoke quick, knowing James had to go. “But yeah. You know…kids. Just ignore that.” Josh laughed. “I’ll see you in Paris, without kids. But I’ll talk to you tonight, right?”

  James’ chuckling at his rambles warmed his chest. “Yeah. I’ll call you tonight when I get back to the room. I love you. Be safe getting home in that snow, okay? Text me.”

  “I will. I love you. Get some sun for me.”

  “Bye, Josh.”

  “Bye, Jamie.”

  The call ended and left Josh feeling a little foolish and a lot in love. God, kids. He mentally slapped himself. Keep a lid on your future wants, Roberts, he chided himself. The last thing he wanted was to rush this and scare James away. And those words seemed like the best way to do it.

  * * * *

  As much as Josh preferred traveling during the day, the overnight flight Tommy had booked him hadn’t been so bad. It was nonstop, at least, and he arrived at the airport in Paris at noon. He’d slept quite a bit of it—thanks to two stiff drinks before flight, a first-class seat and a good audiobook—and didn’t feel as awful as he might have suspected as he stepped into the airport with his carry-on, the sun shining through the big windows. It was a little warmer than New York, it seemed. He’d take it.

  A driver was waiting for him to escort him to the hotel. Since they’d agreed this was a vacation trip, no assistants would be with them, and there was no work to be done unless it was absolutely necessary—just the two of them for three days. While Josh loved his work, and he really did, he missed his boyfriend and their time together. This would be a nice break from the past several weeks. And it would be a few more weeks until they were back together for a week in San Diego in April. Josh was also very excited for that trip.

  The ride was exciting, and any fatigue Josh felt left him immediately. The streets were out of a movie. He felt like he’d stepped into a role—which, truth be told, was how he’d been feeling since he’d met James. Surreal was the best way to describe it. The city was gorgeous—and so was the hotel, he realized.

  Arrival and check in were smooth. He was expected and the concierge took care of him personally. Since it was James’ hotel, the trip would be catered to them specifically, his staff showing off their best sides. Josh turned down the offered champagne for bottled water, because he knew that if he started drinking now, he’d be asleep by five o’clock Parisian time. That was not quite the start to this vacation that he was looking for.

  Belle—Josh was delighted with her name, if he were honest—personally saw him to their room. He wondered if he should be used to these moments by now, but he wasn’t. When he opened the door of the luxury terrace suite to an exquisite view of the Eiffel Tower directly outside their terrace doors, he was floored yet again. While Belle explained about the suite and the spa, Josh actually pinched the inside of his bicep as he followed her around. This is real life. How on Earth…?

  “Mr. Barnwell left this note for you,” she said at last, as she stood by the door and allowed the bellman to put his suitcase inside the room. “If you need anything at all, I am here for you. Raphael comes on duty this evening and can assist you as well. We’re happy to have you, Mr. Roberts. Please let us know if we can assist in any way.” She handed the envelope to Josh before excusing herself. Josh tipped them both generously before shutting the door behind them. He wanted to take pictures before he touched anything, and he wanted to toss himself onto the king-size bed he saw upstairs and sleep for a week. He wouldn’t—he was too wired—but it was just that inviting. And he was glad a bottle of Dom Perignon was chilling on the terrace, because he now realized he wanted that drink. This was worth an afternoon cocktail celebration.

  Realizing James hadn’t replied to his I’ve arrived in Paris and I feel like I’m in a movie text, Josh tore gently into the letter, savoring the beautiful black and gold envelope.

  Josh,

  You have a massage scheduled at two p.m. The spa will welcome you before that if you want to wind down and relax first. I recommend the soaking tubs and the sauna, if I may.

  When you return from your two-hour hot stone massage, you’ll find a suit waiting for you. Shoes, cufflinks, everything you need will be ready. My tailor had your measurements from Jamaica. This is one of a kind, just for you, my love.

  I’ll meet you in the downstairs bar at five-thirty. Order a drink and wait. I promise tonight won’t disappoint you.

  All my love,

  JB

&nbs
p; Josh’s cheeks heated and excitement ran in his veins. Once again, the man he loved had gone above and beyond to spoil him. There was no arguing, Josh had long-since discovered. Not that he wanted to, but sometimes every gesture felt like too much.

  He knew why James was doing all this for him. He knew it now came with the territory, with who the man was. And knowing it was real made it even more incredible and insane. This wasn’t some elaborate ruse to sell a fake relationship. Josh’s boyfriend had actually bought him an Audi and put him up in a hotel suite with an idyllic view of the Eiffel Tower. He pinched himself hard again and swore when it hurt.

  Wow.

  He really was the luckiest guy in the world.

  * * * *

  The taste of the whiskey was bitter and yet welcome against his lips. Josh stood against the fancy bar dressed to the nines in his new suit. He felt like a prince—which seemed silly to think, but it was true. He was relaxed from his massage and comfortable in his own skin. He was excited for whatever this night would bring.

  He hadn’t heard from James all day, but he wasn’t worried. His worrying days were over, he was sure of it. They had a connection. The last few months had shown him who James really was. Josh had known he loved him before, but now they were in the best place they’d ever been in.

  A hand to his lower back surprised him, and he couldn’t quell his excitement as he turned to see James there behind him. He was, however, taken aback by the lack of beard, replaced by a very small amount of scruff, as though it had only been a few days since he’d shaved instead of months, like always. His hair was shorter and styled a little differently. It was shocking.