Chapter 1

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WARD

WARD FREEMAN had to be out of his mind.

He sat in a glitzy hotel lobby, feeling like a big, lumbering fool amidst the glamorous people coming and going all around him. Ward bounced his leg and pushed his hair back out of his eyes. His dress clothes felt stiff and uncomfortable. He tugged at his collar and smoothed down his tie, then had to push his hair back again. Ward was a country boy, born and raised. He belonged in jeans and flannel, out in the vineyards, lifting heavy things and enjoying the fresh air. Instead, he was sitting in a fancy hotel in San Francisco, all dressed up, waiting for a date.

The city was because his old college buddy was getting married there. The hotel, because it was the closest one to the wedding venue. Ward hadn't wanted to deal with traffic or get lost, even if his phone did have a navigation app, so he'd chosen the hotel strictly by distance, regardless of the price. But the gilded surroundings didn't suit him one bit.

Ugh. Speaking of suits . He rolled his shoulders and tugged at his collar again, then eyed the well-dressed men walking past him. Why would anybody want to wear this getup every day? Sure, it looked nice, but it wasn't remotely practical. Even his new boss, Everett, had downgraded from a three-piece suit to business-casual when he moved away from the big city and took over the small-town vineyard two years ago. Then again, Everett looked like he'd been born to wear a suit. Ward, on the other hand? He probably looked ridiculous.

And felt even more ridiculous, considering the reason he was sitting there, waiting.

Maybe he should cancel. It was probably too late, and he'd lose the payment he'd made, but that wouldn't be so bad. Right? He could jump back into his dusty truck, get out of the city, and go back home. Back to the open land and shorter buildings and clear, blue skies.

Except he wanted to be here to help his old friend celebrate the day. And, deep down, he really wanted to explore all these new feelings he'd been having lately.

But maybe this was the wrong time to do so. Ward hung his head and groaned to himself. What if this was a complete disaster? He'd hired a date for the night, for crying out loud! It had sounded like a good idea at the time, but as he sat there, waiting for the escort to arrive, he realized just how stupid it really was. Everyone would know.

Especially because he was meeting a guy who'd be dressed like a woman.

Ward covered his face with both hands. Yep, this is stupid. The whole wedding party would be able to see exactly what was going on, and then everyone would look at him with pity or scorn or maybe even–

“Excuse me. Are you Ward?”

The sultry voice interrupted his thoughts. Ward lowered his hands and saw a pair of dainty feet in black high heels in front of him. He slowly straightened in his seat, his gaze traveling up the stranger's body as he went.

Above the feet were trim ankles and smooth, shapely calves, which gave way to toned, slim thighs clad in the skirt of a snug, black dress. The garment molded to narrow hips, a flat belly, and an equally flat chest. The dress had long sleeves and wasn't quite off-the-shoulder, but it was close, leaving delicate collarbones visible just above the neckline.

Waves of honey blond hair framed a pretty face with full lips and stunning blue eyes.

Ward blinked dumbly. There was no way. This couldn't be his date for the night. If this really was a boy, he was far too convincing as a woman.

“Oh,” the stranger gasped, staring at him. “Holy dancing monkeys. It's you .”

Ward frowned. “Me?”

The dressed-up boy kept staring, then blinked and shook his head. “Shoot. You know what? We never actually met. And you probably wouldn't recognize me like this, anyway. At least— sheesh —I hope not.” A look came over his face, his brow furrowing in puzzlement. “Holy bajeezus,” he swore quietly, then rolled his eyes and huffed, “Adam.”

Ward gave a start at that. “Adam?” That was the name of his supervisor's boyfriend, the boy who'd suggested the escort service that Ward had called to get this date. Adam had specifically told him to ask for Skylar. “Adam Barnes?”

“Yeah.” Skylar—assuming this really was Skylar—gave a throaty laugh that went straight to Ward's core. “That sneaky little shit. He called and asked what company I work for but he wouldn't tell me why. Damn it.”

“Why?” Ward asked, feeling like he was missing part of the story.

The boy blushed, making him look shy and innocent despite the poise and seductive confidence of his posture. “I saw you. At that party at Beau and Dakota's place back in May.” He paused. “You had Charlie sitting in your lap.”

Ward felt himself go hot all over. Geez. That damned party.

That was what had gotten him all screwed up inside. He'd been having confusing feelings for months prior to that, but the party changed everything.

Ward had been straight all his life. No question whatsoever. But then he'd found himself surrounded by happy, gay couples—his supervising boss, John, who was dating Adam; plus their boss, Everett, who was now married to Morgan, Adam's best friend; Everett's brother, Laurie, who had two male partners; some other friends in the area, including Beau and Dakota, whom Skylar had mentioned—and Ward had realized he was envious. And curious. And most definitely questioning. But it wasn't until that party, when a sweet, beautiful stranger dropped into his lap without asking, seeking comfort from the noisy environment, that Ward's world truly turned upside-down.

Having Charlie Pratt in his arms—needing him, even in some small way—had opened up something inside Ward that he could no longer ignore. It had felt so right. So perfect. Like a missing piece that had suddenly locked into place. Ward wanted more of that. He wanted to try dating a boy and give himself a chance to explore all those new feelings.

Except he kept chickening out. Ward had set up a couple dates through some app thing that Beau had shown him, then canceled every one at the last minute.

He'd been dumped by every woman he'd ever dated. Why should a boy be any different?

But he hadn't wanted to show up to this wedding all alone. He'd done that over the summer, at Everett and Morgan's wedding, and he wound up volunteering to oversee the wine for the occasion just to give himself something to do. Sitting around by himself while all the happy couples danced? It had thrown into sharp relief just how lonely he'd become. He wouldn't have an option like that at this wedding, though, so any kind of plus-one seemed like a good idea.

Besides, it was miles out of his hometown. Far enough away that he could try a date with a boy, all without his friends and coworkers being the wiser. Not to mention, if it went poorly, he'd never have to see the boy again. He still ran into some of his ex-girlfriends all the time—not hard to do when living in a small town—and every one of those encounters was awkward.

When Adam suggested trying an escort service, it seemed like the perfect solution. No chance of emotional entanglement. Ward knew his biggest hurdle would be the physical side of things, so if he could explore that without any strings attached, all the better. Then Adam had gone on to suggest starting off with a trans man, like himself.

Ward had to admit he'd felt an ease in the logic of that. He'd be dealing with certain parts he was used to, but if he could see a man beneath him instead of a woman, that might make all the difference in the world.

Because as much as he'd been hyper-fixated on Charlie Pratt over the past several months—on how perfect the boy had felt in his arms—every time he imagined having sex with a boy, Ward couldn't get past the idea of touching another man's dick. It felt like forbidden territory, somehow. Maybe he just needed to work his way up to it.

“And I thought you were hot,” the escort added, interrupting Ward's thoughts again. “I said as much to Adam.”

Ward's cheeks burned. This stunning creature thought he was hot? A simple guy like him? Before he could come up with a reply, the dressed-up boy spoke again.

“Anyways.” The boy held out a hand. “Hi. I'm Skylar.”

Ward blinked dumbly, then suddenly remembered himself. He shot to his feet. “Geez. Where are my manners? Sorry.” He clasped Skylar's hand and felt a shock all through his body. Skylar's fingers were warm and soft, but his grip was strong and confident. Ward was used to a limp, weak clasp of fingers when shaking hands with women, so that was what he'd expected. Instead, Skylar's long, slender fingers nearly matched the pressure of his own hand. Assertive, but still just submissive enough. Such a tiny detail, but it felt good nonetheless. Ward found himself smiling as he gestured at the chair beside his. “Please.”

“Thank you,” Skylar murmured. He sat daintily, keeping his knees together and angled in Ward's direction. His back was straight, his shoulders square. Even so, there was something almost servile—even eager—about his posture. Like he was gravitating towards Ward, hungry for his awareness.

And Ward was very much aware. He slowly sat back down, unable to take his gaze off Skylar. The boy was simply stunning. Though Skylar was still far too convincing as a woman. Ward started to frown. Adam had told him specifically to ask for Skylar when booking the service, but what if it was all some kind of trick? Or what if there was some other Skylar? “How do you know Adam?” Ward blurted out.

Skylar laughed. “Oh, gosh, we met years ago. Hit it off right away after we found out we're both trans and both into music. He stayed with me for a couple weeks when he was here in town, and we've been friends ever since. I was playing the piano when he sang at that party.”

“Oh!” Ward had walked into that party just as the impromptu concert began, but he'd been at the opposite end of the room, so he hadn't gotten a good look at the boy sitting at the piano. And then Charlie had wound up in his lap, and everything around him simply faded from existence. Ward shook his head, putting the memory aside, and focused on Skylar again. “And you're–” Ward began. He felt his cheeks warming again. “Sorry. I'm not sure what the protocol is here.”

Skylar smiled, and the effect was utterly disarming. “You can ask me absolutely anything. Tonight is all about what you need, so anything that makes you feel more comfortable…”

Ward hesitated. He looked around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear, then lowered his voice and asked, “You're really a boy?”

Skylar gave a tiny flinch, but a practiced smile was back on his face in an instant. “Well, a trans boy. That is what you asked for, right?” When Ward nodded, Skylar leaned closer and murmured, “We can go up to your room, and I can prove it to you, if you'd like. Show you my top surgery scars. My tiny cock. It's not really a cock, of course. Just my own anatomy enlarged from testosterone, but you can play with it all you want.”

Ward's dick twitched. The hell? Even though the whole point of the evening was to do exactly that, Ward knew his brain hadn't fully caught up with the reality of that possibility yet.

His body was most definitely eager, though. Especially after hearing that sultry, sinful promise in Skylar's voice.

Ward coughed and shifted in his seat. It was all he could do to keep his hands to himself, wondering if the rest of Skylar was as soft and pliant as the boy seemed, just sitting there. Ward wanted to strip Skylar down and see if the boy really looked like a man underneath all that feminine armor.

And it was armor, Ward realized. He gave Skylar a closer look, seeing tension behind those brilliant blue eyes. Or was Skylar simply uncomfortable in his presence? Was the boy wishing he could get out of this job? Did he find Ward intimidating? Unrefined? Awkward? Too simple and uncultured? A mere handful of the things his girlfriends had ultimately thrown at him, citing them as reasons for breaking up.

Ward sat back and swore quietly under his breath. This was a bad idea. He needed to let Skylar go and then get his ass back home, where he belonged. As for the wedding, he could make up an excuse. Maybe say he got sick at the last minute. It was flu season, after all.

“We don't have to do this,” Ward blurted out, getting ready to stand. “If you don't want to be here or if you're uncomfortable around me or–”

Skylar's eyes widened. “Is that what you think?” When Ward didn't answer right away, Skylar leaned even closer, leaving bare inches of space between them, and whispered, “It's completely unprofessional of me to say this, but it is taking everything I have right now, not to get closer to you. Not to crawl right into your lap and beg. Because damn ,” he added, raking his gaze over Ward from head to toe and back.

Ward's dick twitched again as tingles of pleasure shot all through his body. “Oh.” Maybe it was just an act, but when Skylar looked at him like that—all the tension gone from his face, replaced by nothing but eager, hungry submission—Ward knew he couldn't walk away.

He wanted more.