Dash closed his eyes, and Thorne continued exploring his body, running his hands over Dash’s calves and shins and then massaging his feet. Dash groaned with pleasure as Thorne sank his thumbs into the arches of Dash’s feet, but he kept his eyes closed. He gave Dash’s arms and hands the same treatment. Then he leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips.

Dash finally opened his eyes. “Thank you.”

Thorne still wasn’t sure what was happening. “Are you okay?”

Dash nodded. “Yeah. It’s just…no one ever…” He turned away. “Forget it.”

“No,” Thorne insisted. “Tell me.”

“I touch men. I pleasure them. I make sure they come like they never have before, and I’m good at it. But no one touches me like that, like they care how I feel or like they want their hands on me. I know this is a job, and you’re a client. I shouldn’t be saying these things.”

“Yes, you should. It’s true that I hired you because I wanted sex. I even told you that’s all I paid for, that I didn’t want anything else, but I was wrong.”

Dash gave Thorne a soft smile. “I have the impression you rarely admit that.”

“Almost never. And yet with you, I find myself saying it every time we’re together.”

Dash nodded.

“With you I don’t have to be right.” Of course if they were actually in a relationship rather than a professional arrangement, that would probably change. “I love touching you, watching your expression, learning what feels good to you. I get off on knowing you’re enjoying it. That was partly why I liked…”

“Me spanking your ass?”

Thorne smiled. Dash was acting like himself again. “Yes.”

Dash reached up and traced Thorne’s jawline. He looked like he was about to say something, but then he lowered his hand, rolled to his side, and stood. “Let’s get cleaned up. Then I’ll make you dinner.”

“How do you know I haven’t eaten?”

“If you have, it was something from a food truck and not worth your time.”

“Do you want to be my personal chef?” Thorne realized he wasn’t joking. He would hire Dash. He would hire him for anything as long as he got to see him.

“Personal chef with benefits?”

Thorne smiled. “Yes. That.”

Dash frowned, looking nervous again. “I want to enjoy the weekend and not think beyond that.”

***

Dash made chicken with a blackberry balsamic sauce, sautéed green beans, and saffron rice for dinner. He referred to it as a simple meal, though it looked like complex magic to Thorne.

“So what plans do you have for us for the weekend?” Dash asked when they’d both nearly finished eating.

“Plans? I thought we’d fuck and then nap and then fuck some more.”

Dash raised his brows. “I’m proud of my stamina, and you—”