4. Wyatt

FOUR

WYATT

“Oh my God,” Xander whispers, after minutes of nothing but our heavy breaths filling the room.

I was enjoying the moment of calm. My heart needed it, if I’m honest.

“Oh. My. God. ” His words come out more like serious worry the second time, and I’m about to ask if I hurt him, but before I get the chance, he springs up and out of bed. “What the hell am I going to do?” He mumbles to himself and holds his head with both hands. He looks a little pale, and now I’m the one who’s really worried.

“Baby?” I ask.

He whirls around and looks at me with crazed eyes. I guess he doesn’t like me calling him that when we’re not having sex?

That’s a shame, honestly. I like calling him baby, I’ve never done that before. Honestly, I thought it was cheesy before I met Xander, but I guess he just brings it out in me.

“What do you mean, baby ?” He turns and opens the top drawer of his dresser before I can even try to come up with something to say. “This is the worst thing ever. What am I going to do? I mean, this is my life we’re talking about. Think, Xander.” He pulls briefs up his thighs, then opens another drawer. “Just fucking think. I mean, if he tells me not to do it, then of course he can go fuck himself, right?”

I’m pretty sure he’s not talking to me. Which is good, because I seriously have no idea what he’s talking about. He doesn’t look pale anymore though. His outburst toward me brought color into his cheeks.

It looks good. Just as good as the slight redness looked on his ass after I gave him a handful of spanks. Maybe this isn’t the best moment to think about that.

Later, though. I can think about it later.

“Overgrown toddler. I know nothing about the guy. So, really? Am I really thinking about changing my whole life for some good dick?” I focus on his words again at the perfect moment.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I need to stand for this. “You are not changing your life for me, Xander. What the hell?” He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, then his gaze wanders down and I can actually see the moment he starts thinking about us having sex.

It’s cute. He’s cute. The cutest fucking thing in the world.

All riled up over who knows what, then, like a laser pointed in front of a cat, he loses his train of thought at the sight of my dick.

I love that he doesn’t want to run away from me because of my dick. That’s happened a few times, and it’s not really a nice feeling.

In any case, if what I think I’m hearing is what he’s thinking, this isn’t the moment for Xander to get distracted by my dick. I don’t want him to even think I’m trying to convince him to stop working by using my cock.

I don’t want to convince him of anything.

What I want is for him to give me a chance beyond sex.

I suppose it can be complicated, for sex workers. Dating, I mean. There’s plenty of assholes in this world who think sex work are cheaters by definition, or some other stupid thing. I don’t think so, and my guess is Xander needs me to clarify it for him right now.

So I grab my jeans and put away the distraction.

Time for some old-fashioned adult conversation.

Yay.

Once I’m half-dressed, I take Xander’s hand, and realize he’s spaced out again. Probably went back to his conversation with himself. That’s fine. I talk to myself all the time too.

I pull him with me and walk him over to the kitchen counter, sit him on a stool, and get to work in the kitchen.

I’m not some master chef or anything, but I see bacon and bread, and decide to make some BLTs. They’re always the answer to whatever ails us. I also pour him and myself a glass of water. Hydration is important after rigorous physical activity.

I snicker to myself, and it gets Xander’s attention.

“What are you doing?” The question sounds like an accusation, but I let it pass.

“I’m making us BLTs, so you can eat, relax a little, and then we can talk about whatever has you so worried.”

“I don’t—this isn’t?—”

“It is.” I cut him off mercilessly. “I bet you’re making a lot of assumptions about me, so when you’re ready to listen, I’ll clarify them.”

That shuts him up. I get back to work, and after a few minutes of silence I hear him get up and start to mutter to himself again.

I can make out a couple of things. “Too young and inexperienced, doesn’t know what he wants. I don’t know what I want, so what do I know? Probably doesn’t even want more, so why does any of it matter anyway?”

I think I have a pretty good idea what he’s freaking out about, but I just let him rant to himself for now.

When our food is done and ready, I plate it and shove one at him on the other side of the counter. He sees it, sits back down, and starts to eat without even looking at me. That’s okay, it’s not like either one of us can run from this.

I mean, he could kick me out of his apartment, and I’d leave if he did. I’d tell him what I need to say while I do, and I’d hope hearing what I have to say would change his mind, but things don’t always work out the way you want them to.

“Probably only wants this professional ass,” Xander mutters between bites, and that’s just too much for me to ignore. I dump the little bite I still have left onto the plate, and round the counter to get him out of his chair, and over my shoulder.

“What?” he demands—more like squawks—but I just keep walking to the couch and sit down, maneuvering him so he’s in my lap. I link my hands behind his back so he can’t run away no matter how much he keeps wiggling.

“Xander, listen to me.” He finally stops moving and looks me in the eye.

“It’s true that I’d never had anal sex before today, but that doesn’t mean anything, because it’s still the best sex I’ve ever had. It’s not because you’re a professional, or whatever other insulting bullshit you’re thinking, it’s because I could feel how we were in sync, how much we were both feeling .” I have to stop talking, to take a breath, and that’s when Xander strikes.

“How can you know that’s what it was when I’m the only person you’ve had anal sex with?”

“Because I’ve been with a lot of women before, baby. I know it’s not physically the same, but mentally it is.”

“You’re only twenty,” he retorts like a winning argument.

“So? I haven’t had a sheltered life, I know what I like and what I don’t like. I’m a responsible adult who pays his taxes. I have a job, and I have lots of money that I don’t know what to do with half the time. Does all that mean I don’t get to want someone special next to me?”

He starts to wiggle on me again, and after a long sigh, I let my arms fall to our sides. He can leave if he wants to... but he doesn’t move away.

“I’m a whore, Wyatt.”

“Okay...” I don’t understand what that has to do with anything. “I’m a hockey player.”

“Ugh!” He slaps two hands against my chest. “What am I going to do?”

“Whatever you want,” I say like it’s obvious, because for me it is. But he looks at me with so much fear and confusion in his eyes it scratches at something inside me. I want to make him feel better, but I don’t know what to do or say to make it happen. “Baby, I want to date you. I don’t want to chain you to me. If you wanna keep working. As far as I’m concerned, that has nothing to do with us. Now, outside of work. There, I’d really like for us to be exclusive, but I understand if you’re not ready for that?—”

“I can’t keep working!” he snaps at me.

“Why not?” I ask as gently as I can, and cup his cheeks.

He leans forward until our foreheads are touching and closes his eyes. I close mine too and bring my hands around him again, but this time to his perfect ass. I really like fondling his ass.

I feel the heavy breath he releases. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers, like it’s a terrible secret. “I never thought I’d want this, Wyatt. Only one dick for the rest of my life.”

I feel instant elation at his unwilling confession. But I also understand he doesn’t. He’s confused and scared.

I’d be scared too if one day I just didn’t want to play hockey anymore, because what the fuck? One of my core values in life is that I’ll always love hockey, and it’s one of my priorities. So yeah, being over it one day, so suddenly, would be terrifying.

“That sounds scary, baby. It’s a big change and I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. Work, don’t work, whatever. Just date me. Please?” I beg.

“I need to work, though.”

“I don’t know you that well, but I bet there are lots of things you’d be great at. You just have to find one you’d like doing. In the meantime, you don’t have to quit. Nothing has to change right this second, Xander.”

“Except that we’re dating?” He finally leans back, and I see amusement in his bright blue eyes once more.

“Yes, we’re dating. Congratulations to us, we should definitely celebrate. I suggest we do it in bed.”

He laughs, so free and happy that it makes me sigh with contentment. I like seeing him laugh, moan, come, even freak out.

Maybe this won’t work, who knows, but I have a good feeling about it.