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My second time beneath a man had been a hell of a lot better even if there hadn’t been a happily ever after at its end—not that I’d been wanting or expecting one with him.
Mason hadn’t looked anything like my stepbrother, but the silver fox showcased on Elite Escort’s website promised a lifetime of experience in pleasing a young man. He’d given me something real to think on when fantasizing about my stepbrother.
He’d taken things slow and had been gentle with me, making for a beautiful evening worth every penny I’d dished out for the pleasure of his company. We’d spent two other nights together in the following months, and not once had he shown annoyance at my word vomit during our pillow-talk hours where I treated him as a therapist I ought to see but wouldn’t. I never opened up to anyone. Ever. But the NDAs both Mason and I had signed assured me whatever I shared with him would never be repeated.
Mason had taken a vacation, and having gotten too used to monthly meetings, I’d agreed to book with a different Elite when their secretary told me that my silver fox was no longer available.
Kellen, the third and last man I’d bottomed for, had given me the greatest gift, prompting me to role-play and going along with my desire to pretend he was Drake, one of his co-workers I’d admitted to finding hot as hell.
Thank fuck Kellen hadn’t inquired as to why I didn’t hire Drake instead of him.
He’d spooned me from behind and jerked me off while whispering all sorts of naughty things in my ears. I’d pretended that warm clasp around my aching length had been Drake’s. The hoarse tone of his voice the low timbre of my stepbrother’s wrecked with want for my body.
That night had been over a year and a half earlier, and I’d been celibate ever since. I’d grown too nervous that rumors would spread of what I did and my sexuality would somehow be found out by Jacqueline.
I often wondered if Kellen had told Drake about me, but the agreement every party had to sign was there to protect us—same as my surname change to Gibbons, which belonged to Nancy.
Kellen hadn’t been aware Drake was my stepbrother…or had he? Had they laughed at my expense over drinks at some swanky bar downtown? Did nausea stir in Drake’s stomach over the truth his stepbrother lusted for him?
The not knowing unnerved me.
I hopped up and paced my living room, rubbing damp palms down my sweats.
It had been five years since I’d last spoken to Drake, long before I’d snooped to find where he worked. Bitter jealousy rolled over me like a tidal wave whenever I thought too hard on what Drake did for a living.
Originally, it’d been an act of rebellion and a broken heart that made me decide to book with an Elite. I’d found the balls to embrace my gayness and spent good money to hide my need for release with someone other than my own hand. I’d specifically chosen one of Drake’s fellow co-workers as a “fuck you” he didn’t really deserve.
I’d stumbled upon Elite’s website thanks to my constant online stalking of my stepbrother. It hadn’t taken much to figure out how he afforded his condo in Boston. My honed hacking skills located the company he’d told Jacqueline he worked for, but they didn’t have a Drake Hemmings on payroll. Nor did any other communications businesses in the Boston area.
Drake and his friends posted pictures on social media, which led to my discovery. His best friend he’d told me about, especially. Sean Fox revealed his brother, Micah Fox, which eventually pointed to their family business after a little digging.
Elite Escorts.
I hadn’t known Drake’s sexual identity until the day I’d found his profile on their website. While he’d never dated anyone in high school, he’d never shared his thoughts about girls or boys with me either—and vice versa.
Our conversations as teens hadn’t focused on anything other than good music, movies, and what we planned to do once we escaped Jacqueline and her penthouse that had always felt more like a jail than home to both of us.
For the longest time, I’d assumed Drake was ace regardless of his morning wood, but I hadn’t been about to ask, which would then make me have to admit to being gay.
And if my mom ever found that out? Poor Devlin would find himself in one hell of a pickle, having to choose between his son and wife, and the man was too decent to be put in that situation.
I shuddered at the thought of the hatred she would spew at him, choosing to focus on the better life I’d made for myself outside of New York and away from her toxicity.
Elite had opened a gay branch prior to my finding out about them, and I’d become a monthly supporter because surprise, surprise, I actually enjoyed sex. But that night with Kellen had taken me to an edge of messing with fire.
I’d been scared to book again, sure that somehow, Jacqueline or Drake would find out about me and my little crush.
Little.
I snorted and grabbed a bottle of beer from my fridge, choosing to reminisce over the best years of my life.
Those high school days had seemed to drag in endless agony, but looking back, they’d passed too quickly. I’d tucked dozens of memories away, finding comfort in them in my moments of need when I had no arms to hold me, no words of edification to ease my emotional pain, and no affection to fill up the void in my soul.
Drake had stood in back then, watering the desert-like areas in my heart. He’d been my rock, my only safe place outside of locking myself in my bedroom. A beautiful, giving man I would rather hate than love in the all-consuming way I did.
Pouting, I sucked down my beer, wishing I could erase the last time I’d seen Drake from my memory. Despising too that I couldn’t eradicate my need for him from my body.
Seven days until I would see the forbidden fruit whose flesh I would never be able to taste.
