Dash nodded. “Go as slow as you need to. I’ll be here.”

Thorne rolled over on his side and propped his head on his elbow so he was looking down at Dash. “Clint was married. He was so fucking conflicted about cheating. He didn’t want to hurt his wife or leave his kids, but he knew he was gay. From the moment I met him I thought about him constantly, fantasized about him fucking me. Then one day we were the last ones leaving the office. He asked me to join him for a drink. We were in the bar long enough to take a sip, maybe two, before we headed to a hotel.” Thorne glanced at Dash. He didn’t look phased. He’d probably heard far worse.

As if reading his mind, Dash took his hand and squeezed it. “I’ve slept with plenty of married men. I’m certainly not going to judge you.”

Thorne should have realized Dash would have married clients. Maybe he hadn’t thought about it because he didn’t like thinking of Dash with other men at all. “I knew Clint’s wife and his kids, saw them at company picnics, had to pretend…” He paused as tears stung his eyes. He hadn’t even cried when Clint died. He’d been too shocked, too much in denial. And then he’d been shut out. He’d focused on work, on simply keeping moving.

Dash rose up and kissed him softly. He was tempted to lose himself in Dash, but if he didn’t finish his story now, he never would. “We were together such as it was for two years and then Clint had a heart attack. He died a few hours later. I never got to say good-bye and then I couldn’t grieve for him like I needed to, because I had to hide what he meant to me. Someone from the office had to travel to see a client on the day of the funeral. I scheduled myself to do it because I knew I couldn’t hold myself together.” The tears came then, hot and fast. “So now you can see why I’m so fucked up about relationships.”

Thorne let himself be pulled down to lie on Dash’s chest. “I’m right here,” Dash said. “You don’t have to hold back anymore.”

Thorne was grateful for the warmth and tenderness. And as his tears slowed, he realized that while the pain of losing Clint so suddenly was still there, it had eased. Telling Dash had been the right thing to do.

“I never tried dating after that. Once I moved up to senior partner, I started paying for what I wanted. It was so much simpler.”

“I hear that a lot, that paying for sex makes it simple,” Dash said. “It can, but it can also—”