3. Xander

THREE

XANDER

One Week Later

I stare down at my phone with dread.

I’ve been a sex worker for way too long to let this go on. It’s a job, like any other, so of course I don’t absolutely love every session with every client. Of course I fantasize about someone else sometimes. Not often, since I genuinely like how much men want me. I like being their object of desire.

But the last week has been extreme.

I can’t think about any other man while I’m working except Wyatt. If I have a dick inside me, I’m picturing what it would be like to have his monster cock in me instead. If I’m giving a blowjob, I remember how blessedly full I felt when I sucked him off, or worse, I remember how he absolutely blew my mind when he sucked me off.

Either he was lying about never having done anything sexual with a man, or he’s a natural. And I know I don’t have a big dick, but I’m thick and long enough that deepthroating me still takes a toll. I know damn well that someone who’s never done it before would have a problem with it at first.

Wyatt just . . . did it.

It wasn’t super-fast, I know, but he didn’t even gag.

Does he not have a gag reflex?

These types of unhelpful and unnecessary thoughts have been plaguing me all week. And it only got worse four days ago, when I got a text from Bear wondering if he could give Wyatt my number.

I told my best friend’s man I’d think about it.

Then later, Drew asked me why Bear wanted my phone number, and I couldn’t lie to him, but I also couldn’t tell him the truth. So I hedged. “It’s nothing bad, but I’m not ready to talk about it. And,” I went on, before his face got even more scrunched up with worry. “It has nothing to do with you or him. It’s all about me.”

That pacified my best friend for long enough. He’s been insanely busy since news broke that he planned the wedding of the world’s most famous rockstar—Sterling—to Jules Dupont, Wyatt and Bear’s teammate and the best hockey player of his generation. Now, everyone in Vegas wants Drew to plan their wedding and he’s fully booked for the next six months.

So I bet Drew hasn’t even had time to think about the whole thing.

And that’s a good thing.

It is .

Because I know he’d have opinions if he knew what I’m about to do, and why.

I’m going to text Wyatt, ask him to come over and fuck me hard, so I can get over him and his huge dick.

Then we’ll both forget about each other. I can go back to enjoying my work without thinking about him, and he can go back to fucking as many women and men as he wants, and explore his bisexuality to his heart’s content.

So why am I stalling?

I don’t know. But I did write it out as soon as Bear texted his phone number to me. I just can’t seem to hit send.

I don’t know why I didn’t just tell Bear to give my number to Wyatt, why I have to be the one to text him, but I’m regretting it now.

I wish I knew why he wanted my number. Maybe he just wants to tell me he had a good time. Maybe he doesn’t want to see me again.

Oh for the love of God, just send the stupid text .

The voice in my head sounds as over it as I feel, so I just send it.

Xander

Hey, Wyatt. Bear told me you wanted my number. You wanna hang out again?

Is that completely lame? Yes, yes, it is, but it’s too late now, because I can see he’s seen the text. Jesus here we go.

Wyatt

Hey Xander.

I’m glad you texted. I’d love to see you again.

Would you like to go to dinner tonight?

“What? Dinner? No.” I shake my head at my phone. “Okay, Xander, deep breaths, don’t panic yet.”

Xander

I was thinking something more chill. Why don’t you come by my place tonight.

There. That’s nice but direct, right? He’ll get that I don’t want to date him, but I do want to get dicked down.

Wyatt

Okay. I’d like that.

I don’t exactly know how to take his words. I hope he means it. So I send him my address and nothing else. Next thing is making sure Drew’s staying with Bear tonight.

After I confirm Drew isn’t coming by at all, I get in the shower and get ready for tonight. I don’t want to waste any time with foreplay, so I even plug myself with the thickest plug I have.

I debate over how to greet Wyatt, but in the end decide to just go for it. I don’t want him to think we’re having dinner here.

So here I am, standing in front of the door of my apartment, naked as the day I was born—if you don’t count the plug—and fucking trembling from anticipation.

Another, harder knock, comes from the other side of the door, and I jump on my feet. I guess I’ve been staring uselessly at the door for too long.

Okay, just open the damn door, Xander. Just fucking do it.

I pull with too much force and it bangs against the wall. I wince, and try to smile at Wyatt. Maybe I can distract him from the absolute mess I am. It’s his fault, really, so I shouldn’t have to?—

He’s staring at my naked body with his mouth hanging open. His dark eyes hungrily take in every inch of my body.

No distractions needed then. Okay.

I reach for his hand to pull him in and grab the bottle of wine he brought instead. How the hell did he get wine? He’s twenty.

Whatever. I yank the wine out of his grasp and that finally makes him look up at my face. I give him a mock glare. “You can’t drink.” Then I place the bottle on my kitchen counter and once more reach for his hand. He closes the door behind him, and says nothing as I lead him to my bedroom. I stop at the foot of the bed and turn to dish out the rules of the game, but his mouth is on mine as soon as we’re face to face. He carries me again, with a strong grip on my thighs and... yeah, okay, no talking.

I work on unbuttoning his shirt, but there’s only so far I can undress him when my body is in the way, so I mumble, “Down,” between kisses. I don’t mind how unceremoniously he drops me on the mattress. Mostly because he has the sexiest smirk in the world. It’s like he’s daring me to complain.

“Get naked,” I demand, and crawl to my nightstand to grab the lube and a condom out. I should’ve done that before. I’m wasting precious seconds where I could be shamelessly staring at Wyatt.

When I finally turn back to look at him, he’s already naked. Damn, but he makes a pretty sight. All muscle and perfect bronze skin. I need my mouth, my hands, me all over him right the fuck now.

He climbs onto the bed before I can make another demand, and then he’s on me. That talented mouth of his laying claim to my lips like he owns them. His hands roam down my arms, over my ribs, until they’re back where I want them, on my ass.

He seems to like grabbing and squeezing it, as much as I do when he does it. His fingers get closer to my crease, and I know the second he comes into contact with the base of the plug, not only because his body twitches, but because he grinds his steel-hard cock against my leg.

Just that, has me moaning like the horny slut I am for him, and I’m not ashamed of it one bit. I throw my head back and let out a louder moan when he pulls the plug half the way out. The fattest part is stretching my rim exactly how I want it.

“Yes, Wyatt. God.” I look back down at him, because all begging got me is a feral growl. He takes my mouth again, invading it with his tongue, and making me lose my ability to think when he pairs it with taking the plug in and out of me. Until I can’t take it anymore. I need him inside me, now.

“Take it out, put the condom on, and get in me right now.”

“I like it when you tell me what you do.”

“That’s good.” I let out a breathy chuckle. “I’ll be doing that a lot.”

He smiles—and Jesus, that’s an award-winning smile—and kneels up. He bends my legs, grabbing me by the calves, and stares intently at my ass as he reaches for the plug. He takes it out—finally—but so fucking slowly I feel like growling myself.

“I’m not gonna break, Wyatt,” I snap at him, and I’d feel bad except he laughs even as his eyes don’t lose their intensity.

I busy myself, opening the foil and handing him the condom. He puts it on and I smear more lube on his erection, because yeah, even being as prepped as I can possibly be, it’s necessary. I grab the back of my thighs and he shakes his head at me.

“No,” he says simply. Then he lies down beside me and pats his thighs. “Get up here for now. Once you’ve taken all of me, I’ll fuck you as hard as you want.”

I move faster than I have in a very long time, and I quickly have his erection in my fist and am lining up to sink down on it. It’s a challenge to get the fat tip past my rim, and I’m already breathing hard. Fuck, this is the best challenge in the world.

“Fuck, yes.” I breathe out when it’s in and I can start to lower myself more. “God,” I say in a pant a second later. “You’re so goddamn big, Wyatt.”

“But you like that, don’t you, baby?” He runs his hands up my thighs softly. He grabs my hips and uses those perfect abs to sit up without moving his cock or legs. “That’s why you texted, right?” he whispers next to my ear, then kisses my neck.

I can barely hear him over my labored breaths. I’m still trying to take all of him.

“You wanted my big cock in this perfect little hole of yours.”

“Yes, I want it. God.” I already feel so full. I have to be close to taking it all, right? “How much more?” My voice sounds like a whine. A dirty, filthy fucking whine. Damn, but I love sex. I love feeling so decadent. I love moaning like a whore, I love feeling like one, too.

“Only a third more, baby. You can take it.” He licks my lips. “Can’t you?”

“Yes,” I say, for him and for me. Even if sweat is pooling at my temples, it doesn’t hurt one bit, so of course I can take him.

“Then go ahead, baby.” His hands stroke my skin until he has one ass cheek in each one. He squeezes hard. “I can’t wait to see this ass bouncing on my cock. I bet you’re good at riding a big dick, huh?”

I am, so fucking good. And I want to do that. I want to ride him. I want him to fuck me into the mattress, to pull my hair and spank me while he drills into me. That visual is all the motivation I need to sit on his lap.

“Fuck,” he groans. “So tight, baby.”

“Ahhh.” I can only moan for a few minutes. Can’t move or think. I’m so full . And I never want to be empty again. He pats my ass softly, keeps running his hands over it, over my back. He combs my hair back and looks at me with too much tenderness. I kinda love it, so I have to break the spell. “Wyatt.”

That’s all the warning I give him before pushing his chest so he’s flat on his back again. Then, I ride. Just like he said, I bounce up and down, though I never come even close to him slipping out—that’d be annoying right now. I rest my hands on his pecs and don’t miss his satisfied smile.

His hands are back to grabbing my ass, which I don’t mind. If I could have my way, I’d glue them there. Maybe he’ll hold on so strongly he’ll leave marks. Fuck, I’d love to see that.

Stupid unhelpful thoughts. I guess it’s time to switch it up.

“Need you to fuck me, Wyatt,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Whatever you want.” He nods earnestly, and I decide I need to stop looking at his perfect face.

I lift off him slowly, because I want to enjoy every millisecond of friction, and because I might cry if the loss of him inside me is too sudden.

I kneel next to him and send him an I-dare-you look. Again, he smirks, and is kneeling behind me and pushing into me soon enough.

I have to lower myself to my elbows, and let my head hang from the intensity. No matter how slow he’s going, it’s still a lot. “Fuck, this is good.”

“Yes, fuck yes, it is, Xander.” I miss him calling me baby, but forget when he pushes the last inches into me with more force. “You’re so fucking tight around me.”

“I bet everyone is tight around you,” I snark. He doesn’t want to have it though. He pulls back, and then starts an unrelenting pace that makes me fall face first on the bed. He pulls my hips back up and moves me like a ragdoll.

“Not like you, baby. No one squeezes me as good as your pretty ass. No one has taken me so well.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” I can’t speak anymore, only moan. I love his praise, I love being the best he’s ever had.

“Such a good ass,” he mumbles, almost to himself, and lets me drop again. I see him put one hand right next to mine and feel his other one petting my ass as he keeps drilling into me. “Gonna keep fucking you for hours, baby. It’s not ending so soon this time around.”

God, I want him to spank me. I want him to keep going for hours, even if my dick wants to cry at the thought of it. All I need is to keep feeling him moving inside me.

“Harder,” I manage to croak, and it gets me a spank. Not too hard. And he soothes the sting after. “Yes, more.”

“You want me to spank you again?”

“Ye-es. Please.”

“Whatever you want, Xander.” Another, and another, and another. Until I can’t help but beg again.

“Please.”

“You ready to come so soon?”

“Yes, now,” I demand.

This time he slips out fast, and I’m crying out while he flips me over and lifts my legs to my chest. He’s inside me again in less than ten seconds, and my hand goes to my leaking dick without me even thinking about it.

Fuck. I thought fucking Wyatt would cure me—would make me forget his perfect dick, his gorgeous face, his sexy smile, and his god-like body—but now I realize nothing will.

I don’t want it to.

As I see him above me, as he keeps drilling into me, watching me laser focused as I jack off like my life depends on it, I realize I’ll probably always picture him, feel him, when I have sex.

And that’s when I come. I go blind with pleasure. I feel the sting in my throat, but honestly can’t hear the scream I let out. Then I feel his cock twitch as he keeps moving inside me, and I have to open my eyes.

I have to see his mouth go slack, his eyes roll back, his chest rise and fall with every breath.

And I realize, it’s worth it to never forget him. To never get over him.

It’s only sex, yeah. It’s also the best sex I’ve ever had, and I’ve had lots of it. It’s also a fact that nothing has ever felt as good as when, after slipping out of me, he cleans me up with a towel he got from the bathroom, lies down beside me, and pulls me close to his chest.

This . . . isn’t good.