Dawn of Eve, MJ Howson [lightweight ebook reader TXT] 📗

“I always do a meet and greet to talk to them to see what they’re looking for. Believe it or not, it’s not always about sex. Everyone’s different. Some people are just looking for a hot man on their arm. Others just want to talk. Most are looking for some form of domination, either verbal or sexual. Sometimes both, but not always. Once I know what they want, I set a price.” Jacob gently pried the phone from Sean’s sweaty hand and tossed it aside. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“What are you looking for?”

“Nothing. I . . . I told you I was just . . . .”

Jacob watched Sean sink deeper into the mattress as if he were trying to disappear.

“Curious,” Jacob said. “I get it.” It was obvious Sean was not only being honest but also feeling panic-stricken. Jacob smiled and calmly asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I . . . I don’t know. I guess I felt guilty.”

“Do yourself a favor, Sean, and delete that app. I’ve told you many times what a catch you are. There are some nasty people on there. They’re all liars. Including some you have saved. I only do it for the money. Trust me, as soon as my debt’s paid off, I’m done with SAM. I hate it.”

“Really?”

“Really. I don’t like any of my clients. I have to pop a boner pill to get through every sex session. And every time it reminds me that I’m doing it to pay that debt. All I’ve ever wanted is to settle down and build a life with someone.” Jacob briefly closed his eyes and sighed. “I thought that life was with Dawn.”

“Sorry,” Sean said. “You deserve better.”

“Thanks.” Jacob leaned over and kissed the top of Sean’s head. “You’ve told me that all along. I should have listened.” Jacob allowed his gaze to slide toward the nightstand and settle on the picture of Sean and his uncle. He put his arm around Sean and pulled him closer. “I’ve told very few people the story about my scar. Even less about my debt.”

“I won’t tell anyone. You can trust me.”

“I know I can. You’re . . . you’re a really sweet guy. And . . . you’re kind of easy to talk to. I never noticed it before.”

“Well, it’s not like we ever hang out.”

“I know.” Jacob let go of Sean and folded his arms. He let out a long sigh and said, “I’ve been a shitty roommate.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. I’ve walked all over you, and you’ve let me.”

“It’s fine.”

“Would you stop being so nice!” Jacob placed his hand over Sean’s mouth to muzzle him. “I’ve been an ass, Sean. Nod that you agree.”

Sean slowly nodded his head.

“Let me make it up to you,” Jacob said. “This weekend.”

Sean pried Jacob’s hand away and said, “I can’t. I’m busy.”

“That’s what I’m talking about. Let me help you move.”

“Oh.” Sean shifted awkwardly in place. “You’d . . . you’d do that?”

“Sure.”

“But what about the bar? Your . . . clients?”

“I’m sure I can get Lisa or someone else to cover for me. And the clients can be rescheduled.”

Sean began to nervously rock back and forth. The thermostat in the hallway clicked off as the temperature finally reached the level Jacob wanted. Sean looked over at Jacob and said, “Thanks.”

“It’s the least I can do. Honestly, you’ve had to put up with me and my shit for too long. All those times you asked to hang out, and I said no, blowing you off. I was such a dick.”

“You had your reasons.”

“Stop taking my side.” Jacob ran his finger beneath Sean’s chin and tilted his head until their eyes locked. “If anyone deserves better, it’s you.” Jacob slid to the edge of the bed, taking the bottle of Patron with him. He stood up and made his way to the door. As he left the room, he said, “Stay there.”

Jacob felt a buzz as he walked to his bedroom. He removed his shirt and tossed it on the bed. Jacob paused to study his reflection in a nearby mirror. All he could see was the scar running down his face. Jacob ran his fingers over the old wound and said, “Next stop, 432 Park Avenue.”

Jacob opened his duffel bag and riffled through the contents. Sean may have told him he was nothing more than curious, but Jacob knew better. He’d had more than his share of men and women as confused, codependent, repressed, or submissive as Sean. Or Dawn, for that matter. A pill bottle rattled in the folds of the canvas bag. Jacob twisted the cap open and allowed a blue boner pill to slide into the palm of his hand. He washed the pill down with a shot of tequila and then hid the pill bottle beneath his mattress. Jacob marched back to Sean’s bedroom, bringing the duffel bag with him.

He stepped inside to see Sean staring at the picture of him and his uncle. Jacob flung the bag onto Sean’s bed. Sean jumped as the bag crashed against his body. “What . . . what are you doing?” Sean asked, his face now white as a ghost. His eyes widened as he stared at Jacob and then the duffel bag. “Wait. No. No, no, no.”

“Why not?” Jacob slowly strutted across the room, unzipped his fly, and knelt atop Sean’s bed. “You told me you were curious.” Jacob waited for Sean to say something. His roommate looked terrified. Jacob shoved his hands into his duffel bag and retrieved a maroon Bulldog-style harness and a six-foot-long black leather whip.

“You have a whip?” Sean asked, his eyes filled with fear.

“It’s just for show. I can also use it to tie you up.” Jacob arched his eyebrow. “Would you like that?” Jacob smiled, but the look of shock on Sean’s face told him he might be going too fast. He slowly put the whip back into the bag. “Look, Sean, I promise to go easy.