The Escort (Nights Series Book 2)

by A. M. Salinger

  There’s no way this asshole’s gonna get close to this place without us catching him in the act now.

  Motion on one of the feeds caught his gaze.

  Ethan was shoving his middle finger at the camera located on the wall behind the bar, a scowl darkening his features.

  “Um,” the security guy murmured awkwardly.

  Joe chuckled, amused despite himself.

  “It’s all right,” he told the bemused man. “His boyfriend’s been giving him a hard time.”

  * * *

  The letter arrived with the next morning’s mail. Joe paused inside the foyer, his fingers stilling on the white envelope. It was about the size Ethan had mentioned the notes the stalker sent to him came in. Joe’s name and the club’s address were scrawled across it in angry black handwriting.

  Joe’s heart stuttered when he opened it and saw the contents. Tucked inside the fold of a card were pictures of Ethan.

  They’d been taken while Ethan was evidently oblivious that he was being captured on camera. There were shots of him drinking coffee at a Starbucks, eating lunch, walking down the street, going for a run, and even working out at a gym, the lens focusing on his sweat-slicked face and body.

  The last two images sent ice dancing along Joe’s veins.

  They’d been Photoshopped and showed Ethan’s face superimposed on the body of a man who had been tied to a bed and was getting his ass pumped by a giant dildo. In the second shot, he’d been forced onto his knees and was getting fucked by one man while another shoved his dick down his throat, his chin dribbling with cum.

  Joe’s pulse raced when he read the words on the card.

  “Stay away from him or I will violate him and kill him.”

  Rage burned through Joe, so sudden and vicious he saw red. He twisted and punched the wooden paneling of the wall with his fist.

  This fucker!

  “What the hell are you doing?” someone said behind him.

  Joe whipped around, his heart slamming against his ribs.

  Ethan was standing in the club’s doorway, a puzzled look on his face. His gaze dropped to Joe’s hands.

  “What’s that?”

  Joe crumpled the card and photographs and lowered his fisted hand by his side, fighting to control the dread and anger rushing through him.

  “What are you doing here?” he said gruffly. “It’s your day off.”

  “I forgot my gym card in the changing room.” Suspicion slowly darkened the green eyes staring at Joe. Ethan’s gaze dropped briefly to Joe’s hand again. “What’s going on?”

  Joe remained silent.

  Ethan’s pupils flared.

  “Wait, is that another letter?”

  Joe hesitated.

  “Yes,” he finally admitted between clenched teeth.

  Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Show it to me.”

  Joe frowned. “No.”

  Ethan drew a sharp breath in.

  “Why the fuck not? It’s addressed to me, isn’t it?” He closed the distance between them and grabbed Joe’s white-knuckled hand.

  “No, it isn’t.” Joe clasped the bartender’s wrist with his other hand and tugged. “Let go, Ethan!”

  Ethan bared his teeth and fought him.

  “Stop it!” Joe snarled. He pushed Ethan against the wall. “You don’t want to see this!”

  Ethan struggled against him. Joe cursed as the card and photographs slipped out of his hand and landed on the floor by their feet. Ethan lunged, grabbed the wrinkled sheets, and unfolded them before Joe could stop him. He froze, blood draining from his face as he scanned the message and images.

  Joe’s heart twisted painfully at the haunted expression that filled Ethan’s eyes.

  A shudder ran through Ethan. He leaned against the wall, the card and pictures fluttering out of his hands and falling to the floor, his eyes wide and staring blindly at Joe.

  Alarm filled Joe when he registered Ethan’s ragged breathing and trembling legs. He reached out and gently took the young man in his arms.

  “It’s okay,” Joe said quietly. He dropped a kiss on the thick blond hair tickling his chin. “We’re gonna find this bastard and stop him.”

  Ethan’s body was rigid against Joe, his breaths coming harder and faster.

  “I can’t—I can’t breathe!” he gasped.

  Joe’s pulse jumped when he looked into Ethan’s ashen face and heard his labored pants. He grabbed Ethan’s shoulders.

  “Ethan, you’re having a panic attack! Just calm down, okay!”

  Ethan shook his head, his pupils wide, air wheezing past his lips.

  Joe cursed. He cradled the young man’s face and stared into his frightened eyes.

  “Breathe,” he ordered.

  Joe swooped and took Ethan’s mouth, pouring everything he had into the kiss, forcing Ethan to match his own breaths.

  Ethan stiffened before shuddering against him. He parted his lips, his irregular gasps washing across Joe’s tongue, his fingers biting into Joe’s shoulders.

  Joe didn’t stop until Ethan’s laborious breathing eased and the shivers racking his body finally stopped. He started lifting his mouth off Ethan’s reluctantly.

  Ethan shuddered again, his grasp tightening on Joe’s flesh. For a moment, Joe thought the panic attack was gaining its grip on Ethan once more. Then Ethan softened and melted into Joe, passion overcoming his fear, his tongue lashing sensuously against Joe’s as he demanded more from their kiss. Joe stiffened for an instant before responding, sucking and nibbling on Ethan’s tongue. It was only when Ethan moaned under him that Joe finally let go of his lips.

  Ethan blinked and stared up at him dazedly, his cheeks flushed and his mouth plump and rosy from Joe’s kiss.

  Joe swallowed a groan of need and dropped his forehead against Ethan’s. “Better?” he said raggedly.

  Ethan nodded shakily. His face sobered as he glanced at the pictures on the floor. “Shit,” he muttered in a trembling voice.

  “I’m calling the cops,” Joe said in a hard voice.

  Ethan hesitated before dipping his chin in agreement.

  Chapter 8

  Ethan checked himself in the floor-length mirror in his bedroom for the tenth time, his heart drumming steadily against his ribs.

  Two days had passed since he’d seen the awful pictures that had been delivered to Saron along with the threatening note addressed to Joe. Although the detectives who had come to the club promised they would look into the matter further, Ethan could tell from Joe’s stormy expression that he didn’t think it would be enough. That must have been why he’d suggested the mad plan about to unfold.

  “What are you doing this Sunday?” Joe had asked gruffly after the detective and his partner left the club.

  Ethan had shrugged, puzzled. Sunday was the one day the club was closed.

  “Nothing in particular. Why?”

  “We’re going on a date.”

  Ethan had blinked. “What?”

  “I said, we’re going on a date,” Joe had repeated, his hazel eyes glinting hotly as he stared at Ethan across the staff room. “Be ready by one.”

  Ethan had barely slept the night before, his fevered imagination coming up with all sorts of scenarios about what he and Joe would do on their date. Then, Ethan had recalled the cruel things Joe had done to him that night when he came to his apartment and the tender way he’d managed Ethan’s first panic attack only a couple of days past.

  The man is one fucking ornery contradiction.

  Ethan sighed, decided his outfit would have to do, and headed out the door.

  Joe was standing under the awning of the apartment building, head bowed as he read something on his cell, his back to the wall and his legs crossed. He was dressed in jeans, a crisp white shirt, and a camel-colored blazer.

  Ethan’s mouth went dry as he navigated the lobby. He slowed to a stop and watched Joe for a moment, his breath stilling in his throat. It wasn’t every day he had a chance to properly look at the man he
’d fallen in love with nearly a year ago without the bastard being aware of it.

  Ethan’s gaze skimmed Joe’s rugged features and full lips before dropping to his large hands and the hard lines of his body, a slow ache building in his groin as he stared at Joe’s denim-encased long legs.

  That he’d been pressed against that incredible physique and kissed those delicious lips was something Ethan could still not quite believe.

  Joe looked up then. His eyes flared when he saw Ethan standing behind the glass wall. He put his cell away.

  Ethan swallowed and steeled himself before exiting the lobby and strolling over to Joe.

  “Hey,” he murmured self-consciously.

  Joe’s gaze skimmed Ethan from head to toe, appreciation darkening his hazel eyes as he took in Ethan’s gray designer jeans, moss-colored T-shirt, and denim jacket.

  “You scrub up nice.”

  “So do you,” Ethan said. “For an old guy.”

  Joe sighed.

  “I’m thirty-five.”

  Ethan grinned, shoulders dropping and body relaxing at their familiar banter. “So, what are we doing?”

  “I thought we’d take a walk through the park in Chiyoda, maybe catch a movie in Ginza.”

  “Be still my beating heart,” Ethan said deadpan.

  Joe’s lips twitched as they started down the road.

  “After that, we’re having dinner in Roppongi. I booked us a table at Ryugin.”

  Ethan’s eyes widened at the mention of the Michelin-starred restaurant.

  “Now you’re talking.”

  * * *

  Joe leaned against the railing, the night air fresh against his face. He glanced at Ethan where he stood beside him, green gaze sweeping the majestic vista.

  “I never tire of this view,” the bartender murmured.

  They were on the Sky Deck atop Mori Tower, the huge complex at the heart of Roppongi Hills. The city of Tokyo was spread out below and around them, a dazzling display of colorful lights stretching out as far as the eye could see, the noise from the distant traffic a background drone.

  Joe smiled faintly at Ethan’s admission. He was surprised at how much fun he’d had on their date. From their leisurely walk through the park to the cheesy chick flick Ethan had forced Joe to watch in revenge for his past misdeeds, to the amazing meal they’d just shared, Joe didn’t think he’d enjoyed himself so much in someone else’s company, bar Cam, before.

  They left Roppongi a short while later and made their way back to Bunkyo, both of them dragging their feet while they chatted, neither wishing for their date to end. They reached Ethan’s building far too fast for Joe’s liking.

  Ethan hesitated on the porch, his key card in hand, his expression telling Joe he was just as reluctant for them to part ways.

  “Thanks for today,” he said quietly. “It was a great idea to try to flush him out, but I don’t think it worked.”

  Joe’s pulse started a steady rising beat in his veins as he studied Ethan.

  “We can try again.”

  Ethan’s eyes flared at Joe’s words. His gaze turned heavy-lidded and dropped to Joe’s mouth.

  “Sure,” he murmured, his voice sultry.

  Shit.

  Joe grabbed Ethan’s waist and pushed him against the glass exterior of the lobby. He wedged one leg between Ethan’s thighs, angled Ethan’s head with one hand, and pounced on his mouth.

  Ethan’s breathing turned ragged. His hands rose to clutch Joe’s shoulders, his lips parting sweetly beneath Joe’s mouth, letting him in. Joe accepted the invitation with an eager thrust of his tongue and was rewarded by the delicious shudder that ran through Ethan and the way he flexed his hips against his leg.

  So fucking sexy.

  Joe deepened the kiss, his cock swelling and throbbing against Ethan’s belly, pleasure sparking through his entire body as Ethan’s tongue danced with his, the bartender’s breathy gasps and moans an erotic music that inflamed Joe’s senses further.

  A noise reached him dimly through the blood roaring in his ears. Joe blinked and caught movement in the reflection in the glass opposite him.

  Someone stood staring at them from behind a bush across the road.

  Joe stiffened. He wrenched his mouth from Ethan’s and twisted on his heels.

  The figure turned and ran.

  “Get inside!” Joe shouted at Ethan over his shoulder as he gave chase.

  The bartender nodded shakily, body rooted to the ground for a frozen moment before he slid his key card in the lock and stumbled inside the lobby.

  Joe’s angry gaze found the man sprinting along the walkway some fifty feet away.

  Gotcha, you bastard!

  He put his head down and accelerated, feet pounding the asphalt.

  The man suddenly dove to the right and disappeared from view.

  Joe’s stomach twisted. He reached the spot where he’d last seen him and glimpsed a shadowy figure cutting across a small park. He vaulted over the railing and followed, his heart racing in his chest.

  Shit, he’s heading for the subway!

  Joe cursed as Ethan’s stalker dashed inside Sengoku Station moments later. The man jumped over the barriers and headed for the platform just as a train pulled up.

  A group of rowdy, drunk men stepped off, their tottering legs bringing them straight into Joe’s path when he leaped over the barriers in pursuit. He swore as he slipped and shoved through them, losing precious seconds.

  Joe reached the train just as the doors closed. He punched the carriage with his fist as it started to move, his breaths coming hard and fast. He stepped back and scanned the bright interior with narrowed eyes. His pulse stuttered when he caught a glimpse of a tall, hooded figure watching him as the train picked up speed and disappeared down the track.

  Ethan was waiting inside the brightly lit lobby of his apartment building when Joe retraced his steps. His face was pale, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. He opened the front door and stepped out, relief washing across his anxious features.

  “Thank God. I was—”

  “Pack a bag,” Joe ordered curtly. “You’re staying over at mine from now on.”

  Chapter 9

  Ethan finished brushing his teeth and spat in the sink, his eyes avoiding his flushed reflection in the mirror. He looked around the small bathroom, his pulse pounding steadily in his veins. Joe’s grooming products lined a couple of narrow shelves and his bath towel was draped across the heated rails next to the shower.

  The room smelled of Joe. In fact, Joe’s entire flat smelled of him.

  Ethan closed his eyes and dropped his forehead against the mirror as he recalled the possessive look in Joe’s eyes and his commanding tone when he’d ordered Ethan to grab a bag and come stay at his place.

  Though Ethan had wanted to protest that this was a step too far, even he had to concede that what had happened had unnerved him.

  That the stalker had been so close to them, watching them as they shared an intimate kiss, sent another shudder through Ethan.

  He splashed water on his face, dried himself on the guest towel Joe had given him, and exited the bathroom. Four steps brought him to the living area and the couch Joe was preparing for him.

  “It’s a bit lumpy, but I think you’ll be okay,” Joe said, dropping a pair of pillows on top of a blanket.

  He’d changed into gray-checkered pajama bottoms and a dark blue T-shirt.

  Ethan swallowed as he glanced at Joe’s muscled arms.

  “Thanks,” he murmured with a nod.

  An hour later and Ethan was still nowhere near falling asleep. He’d tossed and turned, his mind filled with everything that had happened that day—from the amazing date he and Joe had shared and their thrilling kiss, to the terror that had filled him when Joe had vanished into the night after Ethan’s stalker.

  The minutes had felt like hours as Ethan waited, stomach twisting while he glanced repeatedly at his cell, wondering whether to call the cops but knowing
they wouldn’t be able to do anything unless Joe caught the guy. Ethan’s feet had taken him to the door several times, his entire body eager and straining to give chase. Frustration had gnawed at him when he’d realized he wouldn’t be a match for the giant figure who’d been stalking him, however fit and strong he was. Panic had twisted through Ethan at the thought that Joe might not be able to fight his stalker off either.

  Ethan wanted nothing more than for the man who’d filled his life with fear to be stopped. But he could never forgive himself if Joe got hurt in the process.

  Ethan twisted on the couch again, the springs moving and digging into his hip. He stared at the open doorway of the dark bedroom ten feet away, sighed, and rolled onto his back.

  Shadows suddenly shifted on his right. He looked around, alarmed, and saw Joe walk out of his bedroom.

  “If I hear those goddamn springs creak one more time,” Joe muttered as he crossed the floor to the couch.

  Ethan stared up at him in the gloom. “What are you—”

  Ethan’s breath left his lips in a whoosh in the next instant, his sentence cut off mid flow as Joe lifted him in his arms and tossed him unceremoniously over his shoulder. Joe ignored Ethan’s incoherent protests and headed back into his bedroom.

  Ethan gasped when Joe dropped him on his bed and climbed in after him. Joe tucked Ethan’s head in the crook of his right elbow, wrapped his left arm around Ethan’s chest as he rolled him on his side to face the window, and nudged his knees behind Ethan’s, spooning him.

  Ethan’s heart hammered in his chest, the sound so loud he wondered if Joe could hear it and feel it against his arm. The scent of the man holding him and the large body pressed so intimately against his overwhelmed his senses, robbing him of the ability to speak. Heat flooded Ethan’s cheeks in the next instant.

  “Joe?” he breathed.

  “Yeah?” Joe muttered, the rumble of his voice vibrating against Ethan’s back and sending a shiver down his spine.

  Ethan swallowed.

  “Is that a stick in your pants?”

  Joe sighed.

  “Shut up and sleep, you little cocktease.”

  Ethan stifled a groan.