Page 39 of The Professional
Stepping farther into the room, Forrest turned his back on Rourke’s still form and slid his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor. The cool air nipped at his skin and he went to the thermostat on the wall to turn it up.
Rourke let out a deep breath and the sound encouraged Forrest to turn and look at him. Rourke kept his back against the door, his chest rising and falling fast. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Forrest.”
Forrest smiled. “And?”
“We can’t have sex.”
“Can’t we?” Forrest unbuttoned his pants, sliding the zipper slowly down its teeth. Wiggling his hips, he slid the fabric down his long legs, leaving him in a tight, black silk thong he’d taken hours to decide on. He turned toward the bed and tugged back the covers, but he was only doing it to give Rourke a good, long look at his freshly waxed ass, smooth as the day he was born.
“Fuck, Forrest.”
“That’s the plan.” Forrest winked at him and slapped his left asscheek. “Are you going to come over here and do it, or not?”
Rourke started to move closer but paused halfway to the bed. His hesitation nearly made Forrest groan in frustration.
Rourke didn’t do what he expected, though. “Lie on your stomach on the bed and spread your legs.”
“What?”
“Did I stutter?” Rourke grinned impishly, and Forrest’s gut clench with anticipation. His cock sat snuggly in his underwear, but the more it fattened, the harder it became for the thin piece of material to contain it. “Get on the bed and spread your legs.”
Forrest threw himself on the mattress, bouncing in the process and spread his legs like Rourke demanded. He grabbed a pillow and shoved it under his head, burying his face into the soft texture.
Rourke massaged the fleshy parts of his asscheeks with strong fingers before they were spread apart to give Rourke a view of his hole. Forrest flexed it, just in case Rourke needed extra convincing. When teeth bit into his right cheek, Forrest gasped and shot a look over his shoulder. What he saw made him flush hot.
Rourke stared at his ass, and the hunger in his eyes made Forrest’s toes curl. He wanted Forrest, no matter how much he fought it. “We’re not going to fuck.”
Rourke’s rough words brought Forrest out of a lust-filled daze. “We’re not?”
“No. I’m going to eat you out and play with this tight hole of yours. I’m going to make you cum while I’m teasing your ass.”
Just like that, Forrest melted. He’dgod damnedmelted into a puddle of goo because no other man had taken the time to make him feel good. Rourke Tormey would kill him. “Then you better get started.” Forrest grinned.
Rourke slapped one ass cheek, then the other, and pleasure zipped through Forrest, straight to his balls. “How often do you play with yourself?”
Forrest shifted his arms under the pillow and laid his cheek on it. If this was happening, he was definitely getting comfortable. “Maybe once a week. Depends on my mood and how exhausted I am.” It also depended on what kind of men he’d taken that day, and what they did for him, but he wasn’t going to mention that part.
“Have you got toys?”
Forrest snorted. “That’s like asking the pope if he believes in religion.”
Rourke sighed, which made Forrest laugh. “Not everything is about religion.”
“Says the Catholic.” Another slap to his ass and this time the blow landed harder. Forrest hissed. “Are you a spanker, Rourke?”
Rourke didn’t answer. He moved toward Forrest’s toy box, or at least that’s what Forrest called it. Most of his sex toys were kept there, and all the high earners wanted some kind of room where they kept theirtools of the trade. In Forrest’s case, he didn’t usually do crazy kinky, not like Angel or Ryder, but he owned some fun things too.
Rourke disappeared into the room and reappeared a few minutes later with a few different butt plugs. One of them had a tail sticking out the back.
Forrest raised his eyebrows. “You want me to be a pet like Conall?”
“No,” Rourke said, “Call me curious, does anyone get you to wear this?” He held it up by the tip of the brown, bushy tail.
Forrest knew better than to talk about clients, even if Rourkewashis boss. Rourke was different than the other men, and no one else existed with Rourke around.
“Does it matter?” Forrest asked quietly, shame curling up deep inside him. He’d never been embarrassed of being a sex worker, but a new stew of emotions hit him when it came to Rourke. “I don’t want to talk about them when you’re here.”
Something flashed in Rourke’s eyes, and he dropped the butt plug on the floor.
