Page 16

It feels wrong telling him this. Like I’m exposing Skyler, and myself, to some dangerous predator. To someone who doesn’t deserve to be privy to these intimate struggles. Ones he could never understand. He never will, and no matter what I say, I already know what the image of Sky in his head is going to be.

Jasper makes a sort of pensive hum. There’s something shifting behind his eyes, and I can’t tell what he’s pondering about.

Is that it? Was that enough for him to finally move past this?

“Don’t you ever feel like he holds you back?” Jasper asks out of nowhere, with honesty and straight-forwardness of a child completely oblivious to how loaded that question is.

I respond without a moment’s hesitation. “No.” I’m adamant and clear in my answer, and have to stop myself from frowning.

“Hm,” Jasper sounds, spinning in his chair slightly to the side. I figure this isn’t about me anymore, or Skyler. His thoughts have gone somewhere else entirely, clearly, because he sits there, staring blankly into space. It’s almost like he forgets I’m there until he blinks and glances at me again. “You can go now. In fact, I want to be alone. Need to think. Tell anyone who doesn’t have a job to do to take an hour or two for a break and to not bother me with shit. I’ll send a message when I need you here,” he says, waving his hand before he spins around with his back to me.

While I raise my brows in confusion at his abrupt decision, I don’t question it. Whatever the hell is going through his head isn’t my problem. For now. Even if he can’t see me, I nod before walking out.

I can catch a break and relax, at least.

Today has already felt about forty hours long. I retreat to the break room on the top floor, where a few of the guys are hanging out, playing cards as always. I relay to them what Jasper told me. Some excitedly run off, clearly itching to find better fun than sitting around, and others continue playing. They ask if I want to join, but I decline, wanting nothing more than to simply sit in the car, recline my seat, and close my eyes for a few moments. Maybe listen to some music…

Yeah. That would be nice.

Driven by that lovely premise, I step out into the loading bay for a quick smoke. Jasper hates the smell of cigarettes anywhere near his cars; even told the mechanic off for the faintest scent after getting his main ride back from the shop.

I’ve definitely been slipping with this bad habit recently. I’d always tell myself I would never allow it become a full-blown addiction again, and I’m pretty sure I am approaching that point. Though…my life’s been rather stressful, so who wouldn’t?

With a sigh, I roll the cigarette between my fingers, tasting a promise of the comfort it could give me if I only let it. Instead, I put it back into the half-empty pack.

I’ll have some chewing gum in the car.

I’m about to hop off the loading bay and head for the car when I hear incoming steps. Before the creaky metal door even opens, I can somehow already smell him, that sweet scent radiating out around him like a honeytrap.

Pausing, I lock in with Apollo’s eyes as soon as he enters. He widens them in surprise. “Oh!” I’m not sure if his face really lights up as much as it does, or if I am just imagining things. His long, pretty lashes flutter at me.

“Are you following me?” I ask with a cocked brow.

He takes a moment to realize I’m joking. Rolling his eyes, he leans against the wall next to the door. “How was I supposed to know you’d be here?” I sense a bit of distance between us, like he is measuring up what the vibe is after not talking for a while.

I don’t feel that rage I did before when I look at him. In fact, that curious sense of interest and fascination from before is back. Apollo notices me staring at him, but must think I’m studying that latex bodysuit he has on. The cocky, playful smirk that pops up on his lips says as much. I wasn’t, but now I definitely am.

It suits him. Shows off everything nicely. Very…nicely. Makes him look even more like a perfectly sculpted statue.

“Funny thing is, I was going to message you,” he says, raising his hand with his phone. Our text thread is open on his screen, with a few words already written in a reply box on the bottom. “I had a client cancel on me just now. Had me booked for the next hour and a half in the Pink Room. He got shot,” Apollo clarifies like it’s important information.

I don’t hold back my chuckle. “Really?”

“Yeah. He’ll live, unfortunately ,” he mutters with an eye roll. “I’m glad he got shot, though. I don’t like him. And, well, I heard Jasper shooed a bunch of you away to do whatever, so I was hoping…”

I ignore his suggestive tone for a moment. “How do you know about that so quickly?”

“One of the boys came down to get a blowjob from Betsy,” he says matter-of-factly.

Chuckling to myself, I now understand where Antony was rushing. When I blink, I realize Apollo has stepped closer to me. His expression is weirdly insecure, even if it’s partially hidden. I think he doesn’t like the way I skipped over his previous flirtation attempt. It makes me pleased in a very amused, sadistic way.

“And you were hoping…?”

“I was hoping we could use the room since it’s gonna be vacant. It’s very private. Thought it would be a great opportunity for me to…make stuff up to you,” he says, prolonging the syllables softly. His pretty eyes dart up and down, before steadying on my lips. “If you want, that is. If you haven’t changed your mind.” He finally meets my gaze, setting that flirty little attitude aside for a moment as his words take a more serious tone.

I almost want to laugh in his face, though I don’t think that would help the situation. But it’s ridiculous. The way I can’t tell him no. I don’t want to. Maybe I should keep him at arm’s length for just a little longer, to really make sure he won’t lie to me again.

The only problem is that Apollo stands in front of me right now, batting those eyes and biting at the inside of his lip nervously. I wonder if he does that unintentionally.

Like this, I can’t refuse him. Even if I was still angry.

That stupid, base part of me wants to cling to his lovely aroma and to get more. All I wanted moments ago was some peace, but the idea of spending time with Apollo again fills me with the same sort of satisfaction.

“I’m not sure how long we’ll have,” I say while I touch the baby hairs waving down his cheekbone and tuck them behind his ear. I meet his gaze and see him flaring his nostrils at the scent of my pheromones inevitably coming out.

Something in his eyes shifts and comes into focus.

“Then we’ll need to be efficient,” he says, gently grabbing at my hand. Feeling the saliva pooling at the bottom of my mouth, I nod and let him lead me to this Pink Room.

Of course, Apollo lets go of me as we pass through the main area. No one seems to pay attention to us, but I stay alert anyway. Somehow, it feels wrong to do this right in front of Jasper’s nose. In his house. “He won’t mind?” I ask, my words coming out a little stiff.

Apollo glances back at me with a smirk as we’re turning a corner.

“He said anything goes. This is my time off, and yours,” he assures me, his tone airy and confident like he worries about nothing.

He opens one of the four doors in the dead end hall to the side of the main room I never went to. Walking in, I quickly understand why it’s called the Pink Room, and figure that there must be a similar theme to the other ones as well.

Almost everything in sight is pink and fluffy. Not bright pink, but a cooler pink tone, much easier on the eyes. In the center of the wall facing the door stands a massive bed with shiny satin sheets and a giant heart-shaped headboard. It’s covered in plush material, and so are the two retro loveseats on the sides of the bed. The room smells faintly of strawberry milkshake. Even the dim lights on the night tables are pink, but a slightly deeper shade.

“This…is a room,” I say, still tilting my head up and down and left and right in sheer awe at it. There must have been some porn movies filmed here, right? It looks like a set. Over the top and grand.

“Hey.” Apollo steps in front of me with a disgruntled frown. “The room is a backdrop,” he says, sounding nearly annoyed.

I smile. Oh…but you are the star, huh?

We understand each other without words. Nodding, I let him lead me to one of the chairs, already feeling myself stiffen up inside my pants. The anticipation is half of the fun, isn’t it? Apollo knows that. He’s a master at this—at seducing. Everything about him, whether intentionally or subconsciously, seems almost perfectly programmed to be that. Enticing. Thrilling. Mercilessly irresistible.

The way he moves his hips when he walks. The way he carries himself, holding his head high on that pretty, long neck of his. Even the way he blinks and parts his lip, in such a sexy but completely natural manner, drives me crazy.

Apollo pushes me to sit and stands over me with a mischievous smile. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?”

I stare at him, my throat going dry and body uncomfortably hot as I expect his next move. Still keeping his eyes on me, he walks a little to the left, where a sound system sits on top of a pink chest of drawers. He presses a button and music starts playing. Whatever the first song was, he skips it, and then another, before settling on one with a sound as seductive and slow as his own movements. My heart pounds inside my ears, nearly drowning out the song once I understand what he’s about to do.

I’ve never had a lap dance. Until now.

With a gulp, I watch him walk a few steps away from me, shifting his hips to the song. With his back to me, he lets his ass do the work, moving it from side to side in a motion that is practically hypnotizing. It looks so good in the snug latex that accentuates every mouth-watering curve of him…

He turns and makes two steps toward me before dropping with his knees wide open and hands gliding down his torso. I study him without blinking, unwilling to miss a single little detail. I see the outline of his cock and the curves of his balls trapped underneath the tight fabric, and can’t stop thinking about how I want to help free them.

Slowly, Apollo gets on his knees and crawls toward me, perfectly synced with every note. His gaze is so focused, almost like he’s in another world. It makes my heart skip a beat when I realize I’m the sole focus of his burning stare.

Me .

I breathe out shakily, watching him as he crawls closer. He places his hands on my knees, propping himself up until his knee rests between my spread legs. It touches my crotch so briefly it shouldn’t even be possible for it to cause the reaction it does. I blink slowly, drunk on him and the scent that he’s ever so strategically releasing.

The sight of him on his knees in front of me, the shiny black fabric glistening against his round ass… For a moment, I have to close my eyes and lick my lips to collect myself. When I open them again, Apollo is even closer. His warm hands slide up my chest, spreading my jacket open and sliding it off my shoulders.

Good . I’m burning up.

His face inches toward mine, lips so close I feel his breath, before he withdraws, nearly drawing a pathetic gasp, begging him to stop out of me. No matter how much I swallow, saliva keeps running down my throat. Throbbing pressure pools in the appendage between my legs, the one Apollo gives a brief glance at.

Licking his lips oh so slowly, he smirks and steps away.

As the song picks up, he raises his arms to the ceiling and dances with his hips again. I could watch him twirl all day long. His arms, rested loosely on the top of his head, move around his face, obstructing the view for a few seconds. Each time driving me mad.

When the song demands it with its intensity, he turns around, knees locked as he bends down, spreading his ass in front of me. I dig my fingers into my thighs, releasing another charged breath while keeping my lips tightly pressed together.

I wonder if he’s wet under there, as wet as I’m getting, just sitting here on this stupid chair. My hand itches to reach out for him, to squeeze his cheek and maybe have a little spill out of the side of the cutouts of the latex.

But I stop myself. With a lap dance, you’re not supposed to get handsy, right?

Apollo peeks at me from across his shoulder. I lock to his gaze, hoping—praying—that my desperate expression relays that my cock feels like it’s about to burst out of my pants. I want to touch myself so badly I have no idea how I’m even staying still, and I want to touch him even more. But I’m not sure if I can. If this is what he meant or wanted from this.

Stupid. You stupid idiot. We slept together. But that was different. Completely different from this. Maybe we should’ve set some ground rules before…

I groan when I feel his ass move against my crotch. Digging my fingers harder into my thighs, I suffer through him grinding against my lap with the rhythm the music sets. These movements are too close. Too much. “You’re going to ruin my pants,” I mutter breathlessly.

Apollo lets out a chuckle and turns around. Still letting his body rock slightly with the melody, his finger presses against my lip, pulling it down. I’m sure he enjoys it as he watches me—a panting, quivering mess.

“Song hasn’t even ended yet,” he says, his words flowing out like a song in itself. He knows what he’s doing to me. As he slowly sits in my lap, pressed against me, leg thrown over the side of the chair, he knows .

He’s probably done this a hundred times.

I freeze at the realization. With a blink, I focus my eyes on him properly, and Apollo clearly notices the change because his face shifts, too. That thought is impossible to push away now. As perfect as all this is, as close as he has me to coming completely undone, Apollo is in his role, isn’t he? He must have done this same dance to this same song in this same room.

“What is it?” he whispers, suddenly by my ear. There’s a certain neediness to his voice. Before I can say anything, his hand hooks around the back of my neck and his lips meet mine. He presses against me, both with his body and his tongue, momentarily overriding whatever I was bothered by.

For a few seconds, all I’m able to focus on is how fucking wet and hard I am, and how good he tastes. But then my reason shines through again and I gently squeeze his arms, making him stop.

“Is something wrong?” Apollo asks, his words swift and sharp. “Do you not like this?”

I smile, reaching out to cup his cheek. Finally touching him feels incredible. “N-No, it’s just…” I pause. How do I formulate these thoughts without offending or hurting him? Without them coming off wrong? My eyes fall as I search for a way to explain. Lightly running my other hand down his waist, I sigh. “Do you like it, Apollo?” I ask tentatively. He’s quick to respond, mouth already half open by the time I finish the sentence, but I interrupt him. “I’m so damn turned on I would probably come right this moment if you touched me, but you’re not even hard,” I say, looking down at his crotch.

Apollo’s lips flap together like he’s a fish on sand. Drawing in a sharp breath, he moves back a little, lost for words. His eyes dart across me, bewilderment tugging at the arch of his brow.

“You don’t have to ‘make up’ anything to me. Not like this. I’m not a client. Just… Is this really how you want to do it, or do you want it to be more like last time?”

He keeps staring at me, speechless, and I can’t help feeling frustrated at that. Because he shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t look at me with this confusion and hesitation.

“Hey,” I sound to get his attention, brushing my thumb against his cheek. I guess he needs a slight push. “You must’ve wondered how it would feel to be on the other side of the coin in this room, right? What you would’ve done to someone if you had the choice.”

Finally, that distressing uncertainty disappears, and another emotion comes forward. A spark. A hungry little spark he can’t, or maybe doesn’t care to, hide. He blinks, almost like he’s making sure my expression stays the same after seeing his reaction.

Sucking in his lip, he tentatively runs his finger across my shoulder. Oh, he wants to. He really wants to. I finally recognize the fundamental aspect that was missing this entire time: the need in his gaze. Before, he was performing only with the intent of producing that emotion in me, completely disregarding his own.

“Maybe,” he whispers slowly, and I see gears spinning behind his eyes as he imagines all the things he’d like to do. It brings a smile to my face.

“Let’s do it. But remember, we don’t have forever.”

That familiar confidence returns to him, only now it seems somehow more genuine. Apollo puts on a crooked, wicked smile that sends shivers down my spine. “I guess I’ll have to narrow it down then,” he says, his gaze quickly turning dangerously mischievous.