Page 43 of Pretty Mess

He shakes his head. “You are like no one I have ever met.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“No.”

I laugh, and his mouth twitches.

“I do not like meeting you at this hotel once a week. I find myself wanting…”

My heart begins to beat fast for some reason. “What? You want what?”

He licks his lip. “I want more.” He immediately holds his hand up at whatever he sees in my expression. “I do not mean emotionally.” He grimaces. “Good god, neverthat. I just mean that I find myself thinking of you at odd times.”

“Oh my god, me too.”

He stares at me. “You have no filter at all, do you?”

“Not much of one, no.” I shrug. “I’m just being honest. I like what we do in bed.”

His expression turns cynical. “You don’t have to say that, Wes. We both know what this deal is. I pay a lot of money for your arse and that’s it. I don’t require sweet words and flummery to go with it.”

“Well, it’s a good job I don’t know what flummery is. It sounds like something on a dessert menu, to be honest.”

His lips twitch again. “Well, if it were on a dessert menu, you would undoubtedly be able to consume three bowls of it.”

“I can’t help having a healthy appetite in all areas of life. I like fucking you. You must know that.”

He rests his arse against the dressing table, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You do have very honest ways of expressing yourself in bed. It’s … refreshing.”

“There you go, then.” I stare at him. “So, what are you saying? I lost the thread when you made me focus on the sex.”

He straightens, and his voice takes on a chilly businesslike tone. “I would like to stop meeting once a week in a hotel. I want access to your body whenever I want it. I’m prepared to set you up in a flat I own. I will pay you a weekly amount.” He names a sum that makes my eyes water.

Just how rich is this man? My conscience stirs. “Isn’t that a bit of a waste of money?” I say hesitantly. “Surely you’ve got better things to spend your money on.”

He stares at me. “You are a very peculiar boy. I offer to pay you a great deal of money and give you a temporary home, and in return, I get a fiscal lecture.”

I notice the deliberate use of the word temporary. “I’d do it for a lot less,” I offer.

He groans. “Wes, please develop some common sense, for god’s sake. If someone offers you a deal like this, don’t offer to halve your price.”

“I’d only do that with you.”

He rubs his eyes in a please-give-me-patience sort of way, which always makes me smile. “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but why?” he says warily.

I wink at him. “Because you’re getting old and might need the funds for your pension.”

He starts to laugh, and I grin at him. Eventually, his serious expression returns. “It is a lot of money, but in return, you will be at my disposal. I’m afraid that means you may have to drop social plans at the drop of a hat all because I find myself wanting you.”

Heat flares at the thought, and I lick my lips. He eyes me intently, his own expression clouding in desire. “Yes,” he says hoarsely. “At any given time, I may need your hole to sleeve my cock and make me come.”

I shudder and kick the sheet away, revealing my throbbing cock. I cup my balls and moan. “So, you’d just come over and slide into me? Would I even be awake?”

He takes a step forward, pulling his shirt off and unzipping his suit trousers. “You’d be lying on the sheets in the bed that I own. You’d still be sleepy, but you’d moan like a little slut and whine when I push my cock into your tight little hole. You’d beg for my dick, and I’d pound you until you wake up and come all over those sheets.”

I fall back into the bed as he comes down over me. His mouth is hard against mine, and I twine my legs around him, feeling the fabric of his trousers against my inner thighs. It’s so hot.

“I must have you again,” he gasps, reaching for the box of condoms on the bedside table.