The Billionaire and the Escort

by Evelyn Mahony

  He thrust it back in and pulled it out a few times, loosening him up farther and enjoying the way James squirmed and fisted the sheets, clearly reveling in the play. His hips rolled and he panted as the plug penetrated him over and over. Josh watched his cock bounce and drool against his abs. It was glorious.

  But Josh could only take so much, and he knew James could only go for so long. Even though he’d come just a little while ago to take that edge off, it had still been so, so long. He didn’t want to lose him so quickly.

  Pulling the plug out and discarding it on the side table to be cleaned up later, he grabbed the bottle once again and lathered himself and James up generously. James was a handsome mess, his fit, tan body on display—and just for him.

  Josh kneeled between James’ thighs and James couldn’t help but drink in the view. Wide shoulders tapering down to an unrealistically small waist, strong arms, abs for days… Josh was as photoshopped as they came. But he was real. And he was James’…all James’.

  “Come ‘ere, Josh,” he whispered, reaching for the love of his life. Josh came more than willingly, as if there were a magnet pulling him in, and James once more lost himself in a searing kiss as Josh maneuvered himself into position between his legs.

  The first thrust took his breath away. It was slow, just the tip initially, slick and hot and thick. James panted at the intrusion, and it obviously took every ounce of Josh’s control not to push any farther. As they took ragged breaths, forehead to forehead, Josh slid deep and slowly until no space was left between them and they were finally, finally joined as one.

  “I love you, Jamie,” Josh whispered sweetly against James’ cheek as he started to move. James told him how good it felt with his gasps but managed a low, “I love you too” in reply amid them.

  While it wasn’t their very first time together, it was the first time they’d been together as true lovers, as partners, as boyfriends, the emotions real and raw and spoken between them. James hadn’t thought this existed in real life—and he’d played the denial card for far too long. At this moment he had no idea why. This was far better than any fantasy, any fake dating sham. He wouldn’t give this up for the world, he knew now.

  Josh started to really move, and James couldn’t help but close his eyes. Their kisses became sloppy as they writhed together, James’ heels digging into the bed as he met Josh thrust for thrust.

  Josh pushed one thigh up, hooking it through his elbow to spread James wider and to change the position. James cried out in pleasure, throwing his head back into the pillows as the new shift had Josh rubbing right where he needed him with every thrust. Josh doubled his pace, losing himself in the clear joy of watching James teeter on the edge of falling apart.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he muttered through the exertion. “Look at you, Daddy, taking my cock so well.” Josh groaned and thrust deeper, slamming his hips into James’ ass over and over as he drove them both toward the edge. Shifting his weight back to his heels and moving upright, Josh thrust forward roughly, snapping his hips as he took James’ cock in hand.

  James cried out again and squirmed, words beyond him now except the incoherent mumbles that were meant to be like Josh’s name and the word please. James felt himself on the edge, every muscle tightening as he gazed at the man he loved, holding himself back just for Josh’s command… It was alluring and completely exquisite. Josh’s hips faltered and James whined low.

  “Need…Josh, I need…” he ground out brokenly. Covered in sweat, still grabbing at the sheets of the now messy bed, Josh jerked James to his thrusts hard and tightly, begging him to come now.

  “Go on, Daddy. Let go for me. Make a mess while I come inside you…”

  James’ cry was loud and unabashed and almost animalistic as he arched his back and came. He made a mess on his chest and abs as Josh jerked him through it before his own climax caught him. Strangled noises left Josh as he closed his eyes and bowed his head as he came deep within James. It was renewing and powerful and James seemingly lost himself in the emotions as Josh panted through his high, holding onto him for dear life.

  When Josh finally opened his eyes, James was gazing up at him lovingly. They were both breathing a bit slower. “Wow, I missed that.” Josh was the first to say it, unashamed. James laughed.

  “I fucking love you,” he grinned, pulling Josh down by the back of his neck into a sweet kiss.

  James took a moment while Josh was distracted with cleaning up and the view from the balcony to fetch the small thing from his luggage that he’d been stowing for a few weeks. He couldn’t hold on to it anymore. If he didn’t give it to Josh now, it would probably burn a hole in the bottom of the little bag he’d been carrying it around in.

  He set down his champagne as he approached Josh, music from somewhere below carrying up to their room. Josh was leaning casually against the railing and sipping from his almost-empty glass of champagne. He was a picture against the Eiffel Tower and the stars. James wished he could go back for his phone for a picture, but he had to do this while he could.

  “Ya know, Jamie, maybe we should lie to Maria and play hooky for a few more days. I could get used to this view, and after dinner tonight—and after—I don’t think I’m ready to part with you, so—” Josh stopped talking as he turned around and saw James on one knee before him on the balcony. It clearly caught him far off guard, as James had hoped. “James? What are you—?”

  “Josh, listen to me,” James started quietly, trying to muster the courage and read Josh’s wide-eyed look as one of good surprise and not bad… “Ever since December, since truly getting to know you and love you for all that you are and all that you have brought into my life, I can’t imagine ever being without you. Maybe in miles, but never in heart. And if you say yes and marry me, I promise to do everything in my power to make you happy and—” His words were muffled by Josh’s lips. Josh was on his knees in front of James before he could finish his speech, arms wrapped around his shoulders as he kissed him like the world might end a moment later.

  “Yes, Jamie, yes! I’ll marry you,” Josh said with a voice full of emotion as he kissed James over and over.

  “You didn’t let me finish,” James whined playfully, smiling through his own tears as he kissed Josh back.

  “Okay, okay.” Josh leaned back and stumbled to stand up, sniffling as he wiped his tears. “Okay, go ahead, finish and let’s hope I don’t change my answer.” He grinned through the tears that continued to threaten to fall.

  James rolled his own watery eyes, and this time held the beautiful black platinum and titanium ring up for Josh to see. “I don’t remember where I was, but, Josh, will you marry me?” He started out chuckling then slowly grew somber as he finished. Josh’s reaction was no less giddy as he all but threw himself once again on James, making him laugh out loud through more tears.

  “God, yes, James! I’ll marry you!” Josh embraced James tightly. When he leaned back, tears streamed down his cheeks and he kissed him hard. James kissed him back before leaning away, only to find Josh’s left hand for the ring. “I can’t believe you got me a ring,” Josh said, awed as he stared at it. James beamed.

  “How could I not? You’re mine. I wanted you to feel like it,” he told Josh. Josh’s smile mirrored his own.

  “I already feel like yours.”

  “And now you will be. Forever.”

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  Companion Required

  Brian Lancaster

  Excerpt

  Kennedy

  London, England, August 2016

  Two triple-shot espressos down and Kennedy Grey massaged his fingers into his temples. Dull throbbing had begun to resemble a migraine. Not because of the coffee—his lifeblood most days—but because the previous candidate had tried his patience to the limit. ‘Is the food safe to eat? Isn’t Singapore in China? Aren’t gays banned in China? And will there be any fringe benefits?’ Questions about food safet
y he could accept, especially if a candidate had allergies. He could even appreciate them not being familiar with the geography of the travel destination. For that very reason, he had brought along a one-page map of Asia highlighting Singapore. But asking if there would be any fringe benefits had tipped him over the edge. The advert had been straightforward enough on the subject of remuneration.

  Not for the first time that afternoon, Kennedy considered throwing in the towel and abandoning the whole precious idea. Maybe this was the year he made a change. After all, the signs of madness were everywhere, what with a game show host being chosen as the official Republican candidate to run for the US presidency and the people of Britain filing for divorce from Europe.

  As a penniless young man straight out of university, he would have trampled heads for a heaven-sent dream of a job like this. On the laptop, he scrolled down to the UK Gay Society billboard and reread the contents of the advert.

  Gay Holiday Companion Required

  Based in or around London. Must have full ten-year passport with at least seven months remaining and be freely available to travel overseas for the whole month of September 2016. Candidate should ideally be between 21 and 25, non-smoking, social drinker, drug free, and must be able to pull off the role of dutiful boyfriend in front of male sponsor’s close-knit circle of friends. Acting experience a distinct advantage. Any ethnicity considered.

  Successful candidate will receive an all-expenses-paid holiday to Southeast Asia, starting with round-trip flights from London Heathrow to Singapore’s Changi Airport, a three-night stay in Singapore, followed by a 14-night gay cruise to Hong Kong. After a two-night stay in Hong Kong, the holiday will culminate in a flight to Bali, Indonesia and eight nights staying at the sponsor’s private luxury villa.

  Candidate will receive a guaranteed five thousand pounds in cash for services rendered, and a discretionary bonus, should the candidate’s performance exceed expectations.

  If you are interested, please respond to gayvaccom@mooddle.com with a recent photo (headshots only, thank you) and CV, to arrange a mutually agreeable time for an interview.

  So what if the advert bordered on politically incorrect? Marketing staff at UKGS had assured him that he had breached no advertising codes or legal regulations. Besides, the ‘exceed expectations’ line had only been tacked on this year, a suggestion from his best friend, Steph—a safe enough addendum, since for the past three years no one ever had.

  Moreover, the advertised list of requirements told only half a story. He peered up and scanned the coffee shop. Even a couple of the young men sitting at various tables could have made the grade. In his head, Kennedy had an unspoken list of other requirements, undocumentable, such as the companion being a toned, blond twink, pretty as a royal wedding, but with a relatively low IQ. They should be no more than five feet six, and definitely shorter than his five-ten. Most importantly, they needed to be totally and utterly compliant to Kennedy’s whims and wishes. And finally, once they had been paid off and returned to dear old mother England, he never wanted to see or hear from them again.

  Since his split with Patrick, his partner of nine years, he’d made a point of continuing to join his friends’ annual sojourn to different parts of the globe—his one break each year from the office and the boardroom—but now with a beautiful young acquaintance. Yes, perhaps bringing along a twink companion smacked of vanity, or desperation even, especially for someone in his early forties whose dark hair had begun to display grey streaks at the temples. But the simple truth was that while Kennedy found meeting and conversing with people for business purposes effortless, he found socialising awkward, especially on his own, and had always relied on Patrick to be the catalyst when meeting friends, old and new. Hence, for the past four years, he had paid for a companion to join him.

  Palm Springs gay festivals, Hawaiian island hopping, gay tour of Barcelona and Sitges, cruising around the Greek islands with a week in Mykonos.

  Pure culture? Maybe not. But a welcome respite from a punishing work life.

  Ollie, his first post-Patrick choice, had turned out to be perfect. Previously an intern at Kennedy’s corporate security company, the blond Adonis had flirted shamelessly with Kennedy and all other male staff, whether straight or gay. And even though Kennedy had been flattered and tempted, he had never succumbed. After the placement had ended, however, he’d made a point of keeping in touch. Once Patrick had decided to walk, Ollie had been his natural choice as lab rat companion. Perfect, as things had turned out, because Ollie had recently lost his job, so Kennedy had sweetened the deal by offering a sum of money to accompany him. Which was how the arrangement had first begun.

  That first year the holiday had gone so well, Kennedy had not only stayed in touch but had invited Ollie along for a second helping. A huge mistake, as things transpired, because Ollie had incorrectly translated the gesture to mean that not only were they equals, but that they were going steady. And Kennedy no longer did ‘steady’ with anyone.

  If his friends suspected anything, they said nothing. Only Steph knew the truth. And he made a point of telling any candidate the arrangement would be strictly nonsexual, unless they wanted more—which was how the idea of the playing card had come into being. But more than anything, he wanted a companion, not an escort. If the rationalisation might have meant anything to any of them, he would have cited Forster’s novel A Room With A View and the chaperone arrangement between the two main female characters. But after he’d mentioned the reference to Ollie, and had then been lectured about that ‘old James Bond movie they keep showing on Netflix’, he’d stopped bothering to explain altogether.

  For the first time since Patrick had walked out, he had been in two minds whether to ditch the charade, to simply bite the bullet and turn up alone. Only five friends had signed up for this year’s sojourn—after last year’s debacle—and one of those was Leonard Day. Kennedy not only had feelings for him but respected his business acumen. Maybe this year he would finally make his feelings known. If only Leonard didn’t come with baggage of his own.

  But Kennedy accompanying a plaything had become something of a tradition, a joke among his friends, and he wouldn’t want to let them down.

  “S’cuse me. You Kennedy Grey?”

  Kennedy peered up from his thoughts to find an extremely blond, extremely buff young man standing over him. Steroid buff, Steph would have labelled him.

  “I am, yes. And who might you be?”

  “Who might I what?”

  “Who… What is your name?”

  “Francis.”

  Kennedy glanced down at his notes. Francis Slade, twenty-five years old, three o’clock appointment. Ten minutes ahead of schedule. One point in his favour. Kennedy swore by punctuality.

  “Ah yes, Francis. Please sit down. So do you prefer Francis, Frank or Frankie?”

  “Francis.”

  “Great. You’ve read the advert?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good. So let me go into a bit more detail, give you a few minutes to relax. Then I’ll ask you a few questions and finally let you ask any questions you may have. I’ve got other candidates to see, but I’ll let you know whether you’ve been successful or not by Friday. How does that sound?”

  “S’all okay.”

  Taking the response as his cue, Kennedy went into further detail about the holiday, explaining that in Singapore they would be staying in Kennedy’s parents’ house. However, the person would be introduced as a friend and would have their own bedroom. Whenever he delved into specifics—especially the rawer aspects—he always studied the candidate’s face carefully to see if any of the information caused a reaction. Francis’ flat face appeared incapable of showing any kind of emotion.

  Whenever Kennedy got onto the subject of the cruise and his friends, he found himself becoming defensive. Yes, they could be a bitchy bunch, and a couple of companions had found them bordering on rude, but they were his long-time friends.

  Bali, at the end of
the holiday, was not only the cherry on the cake, but the icing, marzipan and ornate decoration. If the companion managed to survive until then, they would be able to enjoy the delights of that magical Indonesian island. By then Kennedy would usually be ready to get back to work, so would spend most of the last week either on his laptop, mobile phone, or writing up proposals.

  “So far, so good?”

  “Yep,” said Francis, yawning and stretching his hands above his head. When his tee pulled tight, Kennedy spotted the outline of nipple rings beneath the material. Tick. Another point in the boy’s favour.

  “How tall are you?”

  “Five-seven.”

  “Nice,” said Kennedy, reaching next to his laptop for the supplementary document. “So here’s a list of other requirements. You’ll need to take a medical examination before you travel.”

  “Why?”

  “A precaution. To make sure you’re in good shape, physically.”

  “I’m negative, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “That’s not…” Kennedy huffed out a sigh. “Look, the year before last, my travel companion came down with acute appendicitis three days into the trip. And due to severe rupturing—which was touch and go for a while—he had to spend six days in a private hospital in Florida after which, quite naturally, he wanted to fly straight home to be with his family. If he had taken a medical examination before the trip, it’s likely the appendicitis would have been diagnosed early, avoiding his suffering and my equally ruptured bank account.”

  “Ain’t got an appendix. Got it removed when I was eleven.”

  “That’s not the point—” Kennedy ran a hand through his hair. “I need to make sure the person accompanying me is fit and healthy in all respects. And that condition is non-negotiable. So if it’s a problem for you, then you need to let me know right away.”