Everything from Josh’s face to the tips of his ears grew hot as James shifted his gaze back to him. Their eyes met again, and James offered a warm smile that was a balm to Josh’s very frayed nerves. “Oh, I plan to.”
Josh managed a smile back before he mumbled something about excusing himself to get ready. “May I…uh…”
“Oh, sure. We’ll need these in pristine condition to make prints.” Maria gathered the art and handed it back to Josh. “I look forward to meeting later.”
“Yes, me too,” Josh was quick to reply, a little more excited now that impending doom had made way for an amazing opportunity. Even if he made an abysmal amount, it was additional income to support his mother. And this was his art! His real passion!
Catching James’ glance one more time, he excused himself, slipping away as quietly as he could as he hurried back to their villa. It was only Thursday and the first week had already been a whirlwind.
Chapter Six
Josh had just signed a contract—one that stated he was to create original pieces for all Winter Luxury Resorts for the next calendar year, and it had a clause that stated they could renew the contract at the end of the year if his work was well-received and exactly what Maria Harding, Director of Interior Design for Winter Luxury Resorts and all things J. B. Barnwell LLC, wanted from him. Apparently James also owned four boutique coffee shops and an office building in Miami. Who knew? He had signed several contracts since he’d become an escort, but none of them had been for a job like this or for the amount he’d just signed on to receive, starting now. As he stood, still in his best suit, on the terrace of their villa, the chilly evening wind cooling his overheated body, he wasn’t sure if he was going to be sick or cry with joy.
He’d signed on to create two thousand pieces at a minimum of five hundred dollars each. They were already making travel plans to send him all over the world to explore the resorts. He’d be in Miami starting in January. They’d take care to make prints, all complete with Josh’s signature, and if anything sold, he’d get three-quarters of each sale. That was fine with him, because the base alone was enough. He could easily create two thousand pieces. He wasn’t overwhelmed by the prospect of what he was creating and how many. He was overwhelmed by the amount of money and the fact that his art had garnered him that at the tender age of twenty-four.
Maria said that if he had enough pieces by mid-December, she’d have a gallery set up for him in New York, with a studio he could work in. She had big-picture plans. Josh had stared at her, starry eyed, as she’d explained. It was far more than he’d ever dreamed of.
He wanted to call his mom. He wanted to call Nadia. But he really wanted to talk to James first. And as the car drove down toward the villa, he knew he was finally about to get his chance.
They hadn’t spoken since that morning short of a text exchange.
I’m so sorry. I ran right into her and I dropped my folder. I wish I had an explanation, but I don’t. I think it’s pretty obvious that I sketch you, and I should have told you. I’m sorry. I’m also sorry she disrupted your meeting. I feel like we need to talk before I sign anything.
Josh, you have nothing to be sorry for. I expect nothing less of Maria. She has worked with me for years. I was surprised by the sketch, but I’m more surprised that you’re an artist and you didn’t tell me—not for any other reason than I just want to know what brings you joy. Don’t wait for me. If this is a good opportunity for you, take it! I can promise we will uphold any end of the bargain she brings you.
Who used punctuation that well in a text? Apparently a businessman… Josh had laughed a little to himself.
People don’t pay me to talk about myself. That’s why I didn’t tell you.
I do. I want to know everything you’re willing to tell. We’ll talk more tonight. Sign the contract. Good luck! If you don’t like the package, negotiate. If you still aren’t pleased, call me. I’ll make whatever you need happen.
Josh hadn’t needed to call James. The package had been perfect—good pay, great insurance, bonuses and perks he’d never be able to fully use. Once more, though, he felt himself anticipating the end of their arrangement for the third time in less than a week, and why did it overshadow the amazing day he’d had? Oh, right. He knew. But he wasn’t about to say that out loud.
The car stopped and James stepped out alone. After James shut the door, he caught Josh’s eye as the car began to pull away. Josh only turned to go inside once James headed inside.
They met in the kitchen at the same time. Josh was already blushing and felt wholly unprepared for whatever was going to happen. But James was simply grinning as he slipped off his jacket and loosened his tie. “You are the talk of the town, young man.” He chuckled and shook his head, leaving the tie over the back of the chair and heading for the wine rack. Josh winced.
“I’m so—”
“Don’t you dare apologize again, Josh.” It could have been snapped or shouted, but James was gentle and smiling as he offered the words, pulling out a bottle of white from the chiller. He grabbed two glasses and the opener. “How did the signing go? I didn’t hear from you, so I assume you’re pleased?”
Josh wanted to beg for forgiveness, to grovel and panic and all the things he felt internally. But James seemed to content to pour them wine and talk about the contract. Josh cleared his throat. “It went great. Maria is very straightforward.” Josh picked up his copy from the table, where he’d laid it upon arriving home to process. “You can read it over if you want. You have great benefits and perks.” He set it back down in front of where James stood.
“Good. I’m glad she was thorough. I try hard to take care of my people, and you just became a very important asset to our next phase.” He smiled as he handed Josh a glass, lifting it up in a toast. “To you, the artist. Congratulations, Josh!”
There was a genuine spark in James’ eye. The fact that this had been his first thought upon arriving—to celebrate his new job—was sweet. Josh raised his glass, tapping it against James’. “Thank you! You have no idea. This is a dream, honestly—something I’ve wanted my whole life.”
James’ expression softened at Josh’s words. They each sipped their wine before James stretched out his free hand. “I cancelled our dinner reservations. I have food being delivered at eight p.m. There’s a charcuterie in the fridge that was prepared for us. We’re celebrating alone, together, and you’re going to tell me all the things I should have asked about you long before now. And for that, I’m sorry.”
James had guided him into the living room, gesturing for him to sit, but Josh was so enamored with his words that he simply stood while James started the gas fireplace. When he turned around and saw Josh still standing, he frowned. But Josh was just surprised and a little in shock. It had already been a long day and his brain was hurrying to catch up and absorb such kind words. “Jamie, you don’t have to. I’m—”
“Josh,” James shushed him, closing the distance between them to place a hand to his cheek, thumb caressing his skin. “Tell me everything. I want to know everything there is to know about Joshua—” He paused, waiting. Josh’s cheeks heated.
“Grant,” he supplied quietly. James’ smile grew.
“Joshua Grant Roberts. I want the autobiography. Sit.” He pressed a kiss, chaste but no less inviting, to Josh’s lips before gesturing once more to the plush couch. Josh did as he’d been told, and James sat close. And thus began a night of Josh talking about himself, something he was far from accustomed to.
He told James about his youth, his father dying overseas in a training accident with the Army before Josh’s birth. It had only ever been Josh and Sarah, his mother, from then on out. She’d worked hard as a nurse until she’d retired at fifty-two after a health scare. Josh shared how he’d started drawing as a young child. Since he’d been small and sickly as a child with a knack for getting into trouble, it had been a good way to spend time when grounded. Puberty had been good to him, as had weight training in high sc
hool and college.
“And escorting?” James asked a couple of hours into their evening as they drank their third glass of wine and ate the delicious charcuterie provided by the head chef at the resort. Heat flared in his cheeks, knowing the question had been inevitable.
“So that’s kind of a funny story,” Josh began, laughing at the memory. “I had really no concept of what exactly any of it was. I was a twenty-one-year-old in a fancy bar downtown one night because I’d had a date and she’d stood me up—which is unsurprising because I’m not that charming.” James admonished him quietly, but Josh waved him off. “Anyway, this older woman approached me, started flirting with me and asked if I was going to accompany her home. She asked for my card and, confused, I told her I didn’t have one. She just laughed and patted my cheek. I mean, I had been flirting back and she was absolutely stunning, like gorgeous, all curves and red lips. I’ve always been bisexual, but up until that point, I had only ever been with women—and she topped that list, by far. Still does, to be honest.” Josh chanced a look at James, who seemed very interested, grinning a bit, so he continued.
“So anyway, she took me back to her brownstone and asked me to fuck her, so I did, because what else was a guy to do? She was very sure of herself and I was young and not about to turn down the opportunity. Afterward, she asked how much I charged. Confused, and now exhausted, I must have just looked like a lost animal because she grinned, handed me five hundred dollars and a piece of paper to write my number on. She called me again a week later and every week after. She referred her friends to me, and soon I was knee-deep in the business.” He shrugged and slipped a piece of rich cheese into his mouth. James looked amused and affectionate.
“Do you still see her?” he asked, and Josh couldn’t figure out his neutral expression.
“I did, every week, until you happened.” Josh purposely caught James’ eyes for a short moment before looking away.
James licked his lips, a smile still slipping through the motion. “And men? When did that happen?”
That made Josh run a hand over his face, laughing a little. “So, unlike with you and Margaret, my first client, I usually screen them. She referred an older man to me. I had to nervously explain that I hadn’t ever bottomed—or even been with a man. He was very pleased by that and promised he’d take his time. If I’d had a friend I trusted, I would have tried something else first—but I didn’t. So I, um, bought some stuff and practiced, then…yeah.” He shrugged, his face as heated as the hot pepper jelly on the tray before him. James pressed on, though, to Josh’s embarrassment.
“Yeah? Did you like it?”
Josh ran a hand over his face, unsure why he was suddenly nervous talking about something that made him very, very good money. “I did. A lot. I think by nature I prefer topping most of the time, but…I mean, you know what that penetration feels like. To be so full and stretched and…” The air in the room shifted and Josh’s belly tightened as he thought about that particular feeling. “It’s been a while. God, a really long time actually, now that I think about it, but I do like it.”
James nodded his head, his gaze so focused that Josh could tell he was very engaged. “And do you still, ya know, practice?” James’ tone had dropped just slightly as he reached for the second bottle of wine.
“I…um…I always have the supplies with me for clients, but I haven’t done it to myself in a while.”
James nodded again, biting at his bottom lip as he seemed to consider what Josh said. “This guy, your first… He took care of you?”
Unsure of why James asked, he went with it, “Mm-hm. Taught me a lot about it, actually. I haven’t seen him in over a year. He got married and obviously no longer needed my services. But he always took his time and talked me through it. Probably taught me a lot of stuff I wouldn’t have known otherwise.”
“Did you top him too?”
“Oh, no. A referral from him, actually. The guy only bottomed. So I applied what I’d learned and what I knew—and that wasn’t nearly as nerve-racking. Blow jobs, rimming—the more I did it, the better I got.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he scrunched up his face. God, way to make yourself sound like a whore, Josh. “Sorry… That was…unattractive.”
“Without your talent, knowledge and guidance, where would I be now?” James replied easily, rubbing Josh’s back through the dress shirt he still wore. Josh dropped his eyes and shrugged.
“I guess that’s true.”
“Do you still see him?”
That question again. “No, also a year and also got married.” Josh finished the last bit of his wine, feeling tipsy but very good. “He still refers people, but my schedule tends to be full of regulars. The night I met you had been a rare night off.”
James’ eyes offered remembrance and he smiled fully. “You preyed on me.”
“I saved you from the nail-polish queen,” Josh amended. “I remember it differently.”
They laughed and it was easy and freeing for Josh. Somehow he wondered if what he’d told James had changed how the man viewed him. “I don’t ever talk like this with clients,” Josh spoke quietly. “I hope it wasn’t too much.”
James was quick to shake his head and assure him. “Absolutely not. I have loved hearing about you…and your job. There is one thing I’m still curious about, though.”
Josh swallowed nervously at that, whipping his head around to face James. “Yeah?”
“Can I see the sketches? Of me?”
Yep. He’d been afraid of that. Pursing his lips then biting the bottom one, he nodded slowly. “Let me, uh… Let me go get them for you.”
“Take your time. The food should be here any”—the doorbell rang and James chuckled—“minute. I’ll get this settled. You go on.”
Josh stood, a hand to the back of his thigh stopping him. The squeeze made him look back and down, and James was tilting up his head. “C’mere,” the man murmured, and Josh wasn’t about to neglect the request. He leaned down and kissed James happily, the kiss turning hungry quite quickly, before the doorbell rang again. They separated with sheepish grins and Josh disappeared for the stairs to get his art.
James’ head was full of Josh—so full of everything Josh. He had so many questions still, and yet the more Josh said, the more James wanted to know.
He still felt terrible for not asking sooner. Hearing Josh talk about being a sickly kid in Brooklyn, hearing about his father? It made James just want to take care of him more than he already did. And hearing him talk about his escort adventures only made him want to do more with him, to experience more.
And the inexplicable pride he felt for Josh having been given a huge opportunity today? Well, that was just something he couldn’t decipher. He hadn’t even known about Josh’s talent until Maria had thrust it in front of him. And he’d been more distracted by Josh standing adorably embarrassed at the conference-room door as if he were trying to shrink himself down with his rounded shoulders.
Though he had to hand it to Josh. While James had seen his ass in those Polaroids, seeing it on paper, sketched in full detail…? Well, that had been beyond flattering.
Josh descended the stairs minutes later, bringing James out of his thoughts. He rounded the corner carrying the leather folder from that morning and James had to admire the portfolio. It looked well-made and taken care of. He wondered if some of his money had contributed to it. That gave him a rush of joy.
The Italian meal, complete with pasta and delicious bread lay waiting for them on the table under warmers. But James was far more interested in seeing the drawings. He wanted to truly understand and appreciate Josh’s passion. “Let’s look at these first, then we’ll eat,” he suggested. Josh nodded silently, following James back into the living room.
James sat first and was glad he’d cleared off the coffee table. He set their wine aside and rested his hands in his lap, waiting as patiently as he could. He’d waited all day. He could wait the thirty seconds it took for Josh to open the portfolio an
d lay them out.
One by one Josh slowly—maybe hesitantly? Reluctantly? James wasn’t sure—laid them out on the table. Not just the pictures of James—of which there were several—but pictures of landscapes, trees and sunlight and snowy mornings. There were sketches of fishermen on their boats, children on the beach… James was sure many of them came from Jamaica and New York, and he could see a few from Italy. And Josh was incredibly talented, capturing such small details to bring each picture to life.
But the ones of himself… They demanded his attention.
James studied the pictures—nude, clothed, awake, asleep. How had he kept these from him? Sure, he was often busy, but to keep this talent from him? When had he been drawing? Josh had captured every detail, James was sure, down to freckles and birthmarks and the absolute curve and detail of his length. It was like looking into a mirror. He was in awe. One in particular stood out. James looked wrecked, on his back, naked, his eyes closed. His cock was curved up against his body—but judging by the mess of his hair and sheets around him, they’d just finished. James studied it, catching a glimpse of Josh studying him.
“Is this what I really look like after?”
Josh cleared his throat twice and James had to admit that watching the man be vulnerable turned him on in a way he couldn’t yet describe.
“Yes,” Josh answered, and James knew he was being honest. The man swallowed hard, his cheeks a beautiful shade of pink.
“What do you look like?” James asked, as he looked square at Josh.
Josh balked and shook his head for a moment, his forehead pinching. “I’m not… I don’t… I only focus on you,” he got out, and if he were any more adorable in his state, James would die.
“Well”—James leaned back, resting one arm on the back of the couch and rubbing his beard with his other hand—“you’re fuckin’ talented, and I can’t believe you never told me how much. You deserve everything you got today. I’m proud of you, Josh.”
The Billionaire and the Escort Page 15
