Page 3 of Tobias

“So, he’s a…” I start, waiting for her to fill in the blanks. Because this sounds kind of like a prostitute.

“He’s available to rent for dates. Duh.”

Asher does the stupid cough thing, throwing the wordprostituteinto the middle.

“It’s dating, Asher. Not sex.” Morgan glares at him.

“So how is this going to help me?” I question.

“He said there are all sorts of guys there, and plenty of them accept dates with guys. Go on a date, pretend you aren’t married, see how it goes.”

“I don’t know—”

“Yes!” Asher shouts, drawing out the word. “Fuck, yes. Babe, you are a genius.” He leans over the bar to grab her face and kiss her. She shoves him off, laughing.

“You’re ruining my tips,” she complains, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “What harm can it do?” she then asks me.

“Well, someone could see us, first of all.”

“And if you don’t plan on letting him fuck you in the middle of the restaurant, it won’t matter, Theo. Shit, do either of you have brains?” Morgan shakes her head before walking off.

I raise a brow at Asher. “How do you deal with her all the time?”

He chuckles, picking up a shot glass.

“Her pussy is magic.”

When he tips the glass to his lips, I realize it’s mine.

“That’s mine!” I reach for it, but he puts his free hand out to push me away and quickly takes it. I pick up his beer and down it. He just laughs.

“Oh, hey. If things don’t work out with the rent-a-date guy, you could always let me fuck you.” Asher grins at me like he’s given me the cure to all my problems.

“I really fucking hate you sometimes," I mutter.

All he does is laugh.

Chapter Two

Tobias

I roll over in bed, feeling something tugging on my dick. I open my eyes, but immediately shut them because the bright light feels like a million needles stabbing my eyeballs. I blink a few times, allowing my eyes to adjust before I look down at what’s going on.

Used condom.

I chuckle, not recalling how that happened, and glance behind me to find three people squished in the king-sized bed with me.

Oh, yeah. That’s right.

I pull the condom off and dispose of it in the trash in the bathroom once I make it in there. There’s enough memory of the night to know I didn’t fuck anyone, because I don’t usually do that. The two girls were playing a game to see how many condoms they could fit on my dick. People like weird shit sometimes, but it’s not my job to judge. I go along with it to get paid.

I wash my face and my balls, then piss and go back into the main room to look for my clothes while the three of them—my client, Charlie, and two girls he picked up—sleep peacefully. There is discarded clothing all over the large hotel room, and I dig through them, looking for what belongs to me.

Thong. Nope.

Bra. Nope.

Chinos. Nope.

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